“They’re going to announce the donors tomorrow. Aren’t you worried?” the girl asked Verena. “You’ve been here long enough and you have a sturdy build.”
“Of course I’m worried, but what can I do if they choose me? It’s not like I can say no.”
Marie shivered.
“Oh, no. Marie, you’re going to be fine. You’re just fifteen.” Laila smiled at her. “Captain Callista has never picked a girl younger than eighteen. I think there must be some kind of rule.”
“And you’re so slim. Donors are never thin. So maybe you’ll never be chosen.” Cina took Marie’s hand in hers to give her some comfort. “Look at Verena. She’s the perfect donor.”
“And I’ve just turned eighteen. Lucky me.”
“Maybe you’re going to be lucky this time.” It was Marie’s turn to console the girl.
“Chances I can escape it forever are slim. I’ll be eligible for seven years, and with my physique, it’s almost a given I’ll be a donor sooner or later.”
“But I heard it’s not as terrible as it was for our grandmothers. Now you won’t come in contact with the sementals at all.” Marie blushed as soon as she said the word semental.
“Still…”
“We won’t treat you differently if you got picked tomorrow. I promise I’ll be your friend no matter what happens.” The brunette, Cina, hugged Verena and Laila joined her.
Marie looked at the group of friends and felt out of place when one of the girls sniffed, maybe Verena—but the sound came from within the human block of intertwined teens and it could’ve been any of them. She’d never met a donor. Madame Carla was protective of her girls to the extreme. There was a rumor that the Institute rector starved her children to prevent them from becoming donors. Marie had never believed it. Food was scarce in general. But it was true nobody was allowed to gain weight through a daily routine of physical activities that nobody was excused from. Rain or shine, the girls had to run, squat, and lift weights for two hours every day of the week. Madame Carla explained her fixation with the reasoning the chances a fathered woman being employed by a pure breed family were strictly related to her looking good. Why a woman would look better when she was a stick on legs was beyond Marie’s comprehension. She was instinctively attracted by fuller figures. Idra. Beautiful, curvaceous Idra, who had never lost a pound despite the harsh dietary regimen of the Institute.
“You won’t be chosen.” Marie reached out one hand to touch Verena’s head.
Verena disentangled herself from the communal hug and tried to smile. “We’re going to be late. You know the elders don’t like it when they are interrupted mid-story.”
Cina and Laila nodded. They hurried outside, running down the last flight of stairs and heading toward the walled courtyard Marie had spied upon earlier. “But—” For a moment she worried they would see men up close and personal. Then she remembered the workers weren’t usually employed inside Redfarm. At ground level, the courtyard looked bigger and emptier without the frenzy of activities the white gazebo had required. The structure was now towering in its brightness against the dark canvas of the night sky. Verena took her by the elbow and broke in a sprint, only to stop before the structure.
“It’s so pretty.” Marie couldn’t help but feel like a little kid, a big smile on her face and wide eyes. “A fairytale house.” The shimmer from countless candles waved with every gust of playful wind, giving it an undulating quality that added to the atmosphere. “Like being underwater.” The low murmur from a crowd of happy girls came to an end when one elder stood and took the floor, raising her hand over her head. Marie joined Verena, Cina, and Laila on the wooden floor along the rest of the crowd.
“Apprentices!” the elder intoned. “We’ve gathered tonight to celebrate another great quarter for this farm. Let’s ask the Goddess for another fruitful season. Let’s have—”
Marie stopped listening; she was more interested in looking at the older girl, the way her long, fair hair almost brushed the floor, moving in sync with the wavering lights. Everybody applauded something the elder had just said and she did the same, looking right and left to get an idea of what they were doing. Madame Carla wasn’t big on formalities and the elders at the Institute never had any propensity for them, either. The intensity in this elder’s voice and her regal appearance intimidated Marie. A priestess-in-training syndrome it was called. A joke, a cruel, cheap expression used by pure breeds when they wanted to put a fathered woman back in her rightful place: way beneath them. But the expression did come to Marie’s mind in regard of the long-haired beauty talking to the apprentices as if they were garbage. You aren’t better than us, just older, she thought and then, with a hint of malice on her mind, added, You’ll never be anything else. Just a fathered woman like me. Apparently, she was the only one who wasn’t focused on the elder’s words. Four or five more bursts of applause and another elder, a slightly less exalted copy of the first, took her spot to tell the first story of the night.
Marie liked to hear a good tale like anybody else and her eyes and focus zeroed in on the newcomer.
“Darlene is one of the best storytellers. You’ll see.” Cina elbowed Marie. “I’m sure you’ve never heard anybody so good.”
Cina wasn’t exaggerating. Darlene had a gift. The whole time the elder spoke, not a single breath was heard. Darlene’s voice was pleasant enough, but the quality of the narration was what kept everybody glued to the story she slowly unraveled. “What a complicated plot, and with so many characters.” Marie shook her head in awe, unable to shush her inner thoughts. “She sure has a great imagination.”
“It’s said she’s friends with the captain…”
“Oh, do you mean…?” Marie lowered her voice to a whisper.
“I mean what you’re thinking. Darlene has special permission to watch TV with her pure breed friend.”
“I’d give anything to watch a TV show again.” Marie had a glimpse of a television show once and sighed at the memory. Madame Carla installed the television for the pure breeds who occasionally visited the Institute to snatch promising fathered girls. Although usually locked, during one of those visits, someone left the television room open and she snuck in and turned on the big screen. She had reverently taken the remote control in her hands and flickered through channels until she had found the program she was looking for. She had loved every one of the four minutes the wondrous experience had lasted before a pure breed caught her and sent her away. In her mind, she still played the photograms over and over, adding parts to the story she imagined happened right before and after those four minutes. It was a historical show. The actresses wore beautiful dresses and there was a duel being fought over a wife’s stained honor. The pure breed had showed up at the exact moment the pistols shot. Marie had begged the woman to let her see the end. Still to this day, she didn’t know who had died because of the gunshot. Marie’s malcontent toward pure breeds and what they stood for probably took form that day.
“Me too,” both Cina and Laila commented, bringing Marie back to the present.
Verena was silent. Marie noticed how the girl watched Darlene as if she were the last drop of water in the desert and felt sympathy for her. She knew exactly how that story was going to end, with Verena’s heart broken. It wasn’t uncommon that fathered girls, especially if beautiful, chose to elevate their lives by attracting pure breeds’ attentions. It normally meant a job inside that pure breed’s family and a series of privileges that lasted as long as the fathered girl’s beauty stayed fresh. Not the life Marie would have wanted for herself, but good enough for many other fathered women. When you were born on the wrong side of the woman race, there weren’t a lot of choices. Still, she wouldn’t have condemned herself to a loveless life just to eat or dress better. She nudged Verena’s shoulder with hers and when the girl turned, she smiled at her.
Verena lowered her eyes and blushed. “Am I that easy to read?”
Marie shrugged but tilted her head slightly and widened her smile.
<
br /> “She deserves a better life.” For the briefest of moments, Verena’s gaze went back to Darlene. “I know I’ll never be able to give her what she wants.” She slowly uncurled from her sitting position. “I need to loosen up my legs.”
“I’ll come with you.” Marie would have preferred to stay and listen to some more stories, but it was clear Verena could use some company and neither Cina nor Laila were looking in their direction, their faces rapt by the narration. “You too deserve a better life, you know?” Marie said, unable to contain her frustration at Verena’s fatalism. “I know I deserve better than peeling potatoes.”
“You must come from a nice place.”
“I suppose I do.” Once again, sadness invaded her heart at the consideration she wasn’t at the Institute anymore. They moved silently, exiting the gazebo without disturbing the other girls.
Verena led her to a darker corner. “They can’t see us from there.”
“Does she know your feelings?” Marie looked around, letting her eyes get used to the dim light surrounding them. Only a flickering sconce illuminated the archway at the end of a small courtyard created by the recessing walls of the building. She looked up, wondering which wing the walls belonged to.
“I was stupid enough to declare my love.” Verena laughed.
Marie lowered her eyes to the herringbone-patterned cobblestones. “I’m sorry.” What else could she say? It wasn’t that she had any experience in unrequited love. She had kissed Idra and Idra had kissed her back. And before Idra, there had been nobody else. She was only fifteen, not old enough to have her heart broken.
“Well, I should’ve known better.” Verena walked slowly, kicking a pebble that skidded on the stone pavement with a pleasant metallic sound. She stopped under the sconce and removed a small box from one of the pocket on her pants. “Mint?”
“No, thanks—” Something moved under the archway and Marie jumped.
“What is it?” Verena put her body before Marie’s in a protective, bigger-sister way. “Is anybody there?” She walked closer to the archway where the sound had originated. “I don’t have time for stupid pranks. Come out.”
“People do this kind of thing here?”
“Pranks?”
Marie nodded. “Yes, pranks.”
“All the time.”
Marie shivered at the idea. She hated pranks. Especially if they were aimed to scare the unfortunate recipient.
“Maybe it was a rat.” Verena made sign to go farther inside.
“A rat?” Marie didn’t follow her. Darkness and scurrying rodents weren’t a combination she liked.
“Probably. That’s another entry to the cellars.” Verena disappeared, wrapped by the shadows.
Marie stood, certain she didn’t want to go any closer to the archway, but not happy to be left there outside all by herself. A few seconds later, she heard the distinct click of an opening locket and Verena’s disembodied voice calling her.
“Why are we going there?” Marie asked to the archway.
“Got a surprise for you.” Verena reemerged from the shadows, empty hand outstretched, a big smile on her face.
“Are we going to get in trouble?” Marie couldn’t believe that sentence had escaped her mouth. Until a day ago, she would’ve been the one looking for trouble. She cursed, appalled at her own thoughts, and took Verena’s hand. I’ve been here less than three days for the Goddess’s sake.
“If we’re caught.”
Marie felt the dare in Verena’s words and stepped into the darkness, angry with herself for looking like a coward.
“Thought so.”
Marie felt overly pleased by Verena’s approval, but when the door was closed behind her and not a single ray of flickering light illuminated her steps, she gasped. The humidity pressed against her skin like a wet cloth.
“Are you nyctophobic by any chance?”
“Am I a nycto… what?” Marie had never heard the word. She wasn’t even sure she could repeat it. Verena’s status grew in her mind. She’s one smart cookie.
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
Marie appreciated that Verena didn’t make her feel an idiot by repeating the question in words she could understand. “No, I’m not,” she lied. So that’s what it is.
“Nyctophobia is a common fear.”
“Which I don’t have.” Marie reached to the side with her palm outstretched, looking for the safety of the wall to guide her. “How do you even know that word?”
“Redfarm has a well-stocked medical library and I like to read in my spare time.” Verena shrugged. “Be careful now. We’re going two floors down. Give me your hand and follow me.”
Is all of this really necessary? And what happened to, “You don’t want to miss the stories…?” Marie was regretting coming. She needs a straightjacket. Smart, but still crazy. What fun is it to blindly break your neck while falling down a flight of stairs? She slipped once or twice on the dew-coated steps. Although the temperature steadily decreased as they descended, she was feeling warmer. Or maybe it was her heart beating so fast. She couldn’t be sure.
“Almost there.”
“There, where?” The flat sole of her leather sandal slipped once more, unbalancing her.
“Easy.” Verena’s strong arms caught her before she could fall. “Behind the cellars is the Apothecary.”
Marie knew that word. They had an apothecary at the Institute where Madame Carla prepared the concoctions to treat the small ailments plaguing the girls monthly. The rector never gave them medicines unless necessary. More side effects than benefits, the stern woman used to say. “I like apothecaries.”
“Oh, you’ll love this one.” Verena stopped and released her hand. “Just a sec.”
Marie didn’t move. She kept her body at an angle so she was still touching Verena, if only by the hem of her shirt. She didn’t want the girl to think less of her, but she couldn’t stand the darkness and the humidity anymore.
“The Redfarm Apothecary,” Verena announced as a room appeared behind the door she had opened.
The light inside wasn’t bright, but compared to the obscurity, it was a relief. Marie entered the room and looked around, eyes wide in wonder. This apothecary was different than she had expected. It had the same good smell of lavender and roses she associated with that kind of place, but here, the bouquet was richer. Her nose high in the air, and she walked around, sniffing the scents. “What kind of medicines do you make here?” She lingered close to a table where petals of flowers she didn’t recognize had been laid to dry. The perfume was sweet with a hint of citrus. Her fingers traveled to the table to grab a handful.
“No medicines. We make perfumes at Redfarm.”
“But what about the name?” She crushed the fragrant petal between index and thumb and then brought the powder to her nose. “Love this smell.”
“Jasmine.” Verena mimed what Marie had just done, and at her puzzled look, Verena explained, “Jasmine is the name of the flower. This place is called the Apothecary because it was one a long time ago. Nobody needs homemade medicines anymore, but the room was already here. Why not use it? The name remained. They tried to call it the Perfumery, but it didn’t stick.”
Marie wandered toward the end of the room, only to see the Apothecary was bigger than she had thought; branching from the main room were several smaller rooms opening to a narrow hallway that curved, hiding what lay beyond its cream wall. Curiosity won and she was attracted by the fragrant smell coming from around the corner. Soft murmurs caught her attention. She turned toward the noise and almost stumbled at the unexpected sight. She brought a hand to her mouth and backed against the wall, unable to leave. There was a woman and a man hugging in the darkness of one of the small rooms. Marie kept her body at an angle, confident they couldn’t see her, busy as they were kissing. She was horrified the woman wasn’t struggling to free herself from the man’s clutches. Instead, she leaned against him, gluing her body to his.
A hand gently tapped
on her shoulder and Marie turned to face Verena, who brought a finger to her lips and shot Marie a warning look. “Let’s get out of here,” Verena whispered in her ear and took her by the elbow.
Marie stepped back and turned to face the hallway when the couple moved. The woman’s head was under the light for a moment. A glimpse of deep red. “But, it’s—”
“Don’t say it.” Verena pulled her away.
Marie freed herself from Verena’s grip but followed her. I can’t believe Carnia is a man lover. She turned at the last moment and saw the man looking at her. A flash of green eyes. Grant? After an impatient tug from Verena, she unfroze. They were back into the main room in no time. Marie’s heart was beating as if she had run a marathon. She felt dizzy and her mind kept playing the scene she had witnessed, making it impossible for her to concentrate on what Verena was saying.
“You aren’t going to say anything to anybody. Do you understand?” Verena shook Marie with both hands on her shoulders. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, I’m not to say anything to any living soul.” Marie looked at Verena, but didn’t see her. “Why?”
“Because I say so.” Verena accompanied her to the door and out of the Apothecary. They ascended the dark staircase fast, not speaking a word.
“Carnia—” Marie started, unable to let the argument go without an explanation. She needed to talk about it.
“Carnia nothing.” Verena led them back to the courtyard, her voice betraying how upset she was.
“But don’t we have to report her to Madame Lana?” Marie couldn’t help but look back at the dark archway, but nobody came after them.
“Carnia’s dead if you report her. Do you understand?” Verena stopped several steps away from the gazebo and kept her voice low. Applause drowned out her voice.
“Dead?” Marie looked at the crowd cheering for an encore.
“Worse than dead. If Madame Lana gets wind of it, Carnia will be sent to a waste plant.” Verena’s eyes were imploring Marie and she felt horrible.
“A waste plant?” She couldn’t believe her ears.
Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles) Page 3