Harvest: Faction 1: (The Isa Fae Collection)

by Conner Kressley

  The death I would almost certainly face on the inside of the Box would probably be much better than what those on the outside would go through. So I let go of everything but Karr’s hand. I let go of my past and of the anger I had always felt at being an orphan. I let go of the outside world, of the unspoken promises it made me, of the future it assured me would be mine if only I made the right decisions. And, in the end, I let go of the idea of right and wrong altogether. What did any of that matter now? There was only Karr, myself, and whatever horrible world existed inside of this thing.

  I took another deep breath as the energy around me heated up, pulling me toward it, and felt the faction melt away around me. It was the only home I had ever known, and now I would probably never see it again.

  I woke with a start as a slight stinging sensation ran up my leg. It wasn’t an intense pain, certainly nothing like I’d expected to feel while being transported, but it shook me to my senses nonetheless.

  Karr stood over me, though his attention and eyes were pulled in another direction. He looked to his right, my left, wearing an expression that instantly put me on edge. In his hand was a stick with a point on the end that had obviously been sharpened by some sort of tool or magic. His hair was disheveled, but his stance was steady. He didn’t look nearly as out of place as I’d imagined he would, or even as I felt in this brand-new arena.

  The world around him was different than anything I’d ever seen. We were in some kind of forest, though the trees were not the sort I’d become familiar with back in the faction. These were much taller and studded with some sort of winding vegetation which spiraled up the trunks toward the tops. This kind of vegetation wouldn’t grow in the snowy cold of Faction One. The ground was covered with vibrant flowers and strange capped fungus which sprung up in close cropped circles near a running stream. The most obvious of the differences between this place and the faction, however, was the absence of the sun.

  It was night here. I’d never really seen night before, but I knew it came with darkness, and I knew this was it. The sky was as large and expansive as its counterpart on the outside, and though I had just been thrown into a box not even as big as my body, the world around me stretched out endlessly.

  I got the feeling this place was just as big as the faction itself, if not bigger. Yet, though this place had no sun and no daylight, the air was warm and thick. It surrounded me like water and, as I breathed it in, I began to seriously consider the idea that it might choke me.

  “You’re awake,” Karr said. His eyes were on me now, though his spear stayed at the ready. “I was beginning to fear that you’d hurt yourself in the transport.”

  I swallowed hard, propping myself up on my elbows and feeling leaves, fallen to the ground, crunch under me. “How long was I out?”

  “I’ve been awake for what feels like at least half an hour, but it’s hard to tell in here. Time doesn’t quite work the same way on the inside as it does in the faction.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, spinning around and standing up to meet him. “And where’s the sun?”

  “Back in Faction One,” he muttered. “And time here moves faster. Much faster.” He poked his stick against the earth. “Days in here are mere hours out there. At least, it seems that way. I’d been here for over a year before I’d returned, but you’d said I’d been gone for two weeks out there.”

  I took that in, nodding, but still not fully processing what he was saying. If it was always night here, then how did vegetation grow? Whoever Westman was, if he was growing all this vegetation without sunlight, then he was more powerful than I imagined.

  “Well, you were,” I said finally. “Gone for two weeks, I mean.”

  “For you, maybe. But not me,” he answered, shaking his head.

  The rest of what he’d said—about the difference in the passing of time—finally caught up with me.

  “Wait—what?” I asked. “You’d been in here for over a year?” I couldn’t begin to fathom what that might be like. The things he had seen, the things he had done. Still, a twinge of irritation colored my concern for him. “Don’t you think that’s something I deserved to know before I agreed to go into this thing?”

  “When exactly did you expect me to warn you?” he asked, daring me with raised eyebrows. “You made your mind up before even speaking to me about it.”

  “What choice did I have?” I asked, spreading my arms out far at my sides in frustration. “Letting the entire faction fall?”

  Karr growled. “That hardly makes your decision my fault,” he said. “Not to mention, you required the Elders send me with you. Without asking me.”

  “Well, forgive me for saving you from an execution.”

  “Ever consider I might have preferred that to being sent back here?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought I’d done him a favor. I thought he’d be happy with me, or at least, understanding. But this, this was something else entirely.

  “So you’d rather die?” I asked.

  “I was tossed into this nightmare once without a say in it. I would have at least liked to have had one this time.” He turned away from me. “After what happened to Arbor.”

  “What about Arbor?” I demanded, striding over to him. I grabbed his arm and spun him around, repeating myself. “What about Arbor?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me,” he answered, looking at me like a wounded puppy.

  “I brought you with me because I wanted to hear it,” I said, leaving out the fact that I also wanted to believe it was true. I wanted to believe more than anything.

  “Let me show you,” he said, reaching for my hand.

  With a touch of hesitation, I took it. Instantly, I felt a spark between us, and blinked as a rush of fear, guilt, agony and powerlessness ran through me. I was feeling what he felt when Arbor died. I could sense it. I knew it, just like I now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he hadn’t been in control of himself when Arbor was killed. He was telling the truth. Of course he was.

  The realization of Karr’s truth slammed into me. He’d been forced to kill someone he cared about against his will. What if it had been? I could not imagine the internal torture he would face for the rest of his life. Part of me wished I could erase that memory from his mind somehow. Free him from it.

  “I’m… sorry,” I said softly, knowing the words were meaningless.

  Karr wouldn’t even look at me.

  “It was selfish of me to bring you here,” I said finally. “I thought I was doing the right thing, saving you from certain death. Thinking that, at least here, you’d have a chance.”

  “I guess being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” he asked, biting his lower lip.

  “No,” I admitted. “But this is where we’re at now. And I can’t do this without you.”

  Finally, he turned to me. “You won’t have to,” he said, his posture deflating. “And I’m sorry for making you feel bad. The truth is, I would have come here with you anyway, even if I hated it.”

  “Would you have?” I asked, but I wasn’t really so uncertain. He was still the Karr I’d known before he’d gone into the Box. I hadn’t lost him the way I’d thought I had. And I knew without a doubt he wouldn’t leave me here alone.

  “Of course,” he said. “But I really need you to trust me. I know that’s hard after… after what you saw. Even knowing the truth. Hell, I can’t even think of myself the same way anymore.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, more lost than ever, but for the first time in a long time, feeling not quite so alone.

  “I’m not really sure what to do,” he said finally. “Only what not to do. You can’t be yourself in this place, Lara, okay? Not if you want to survive.” He motioned forward and started walking. “Now come with me. There’s a lot more I need to show you.”

  Chapter 17

  I followed Karr, taking in the sheer absurdity of what was going on around me. This world—this strange place shove
d inside a box—was more than I could have ever imagined from the outside. Because no one had ever come back from any sojourn in this place before Karr, there were no stories of what this land was like, of what it entailed, or of the creatures that might exist within it.

  I had only ever heard of Westman in the days before my own exile into this place, and even that was a mystery I still didn’t feel as though I fully understood.

  The trees here seemed to sing around me, though their song was more of a wail, a cry of mystery and disaster that stretched out as far as I could see in a low and awful hum.

  Artificial lights, reserved for indoor spaces back in the faction, hung every few feet out here, illuminating everything. Somehow, though, the lights setting against the odd blackness of the sky seemed more concentrated than the ones on the outside.

  I squinted, looking at them.

  “You get used to it,” Karr said, looking back at me and smiling a little.

  The look on his face was so familiar, so enchanting, that it took all I could do not to melt into his arms and forget the last few horrible weeks had even happened. I wanted that so much, to just be with him, to have Arbor back, to live the life we had planned to live when we were nothing but orphans no one cared about.

  That world was gone, though, and this new one was all either of us had.

  “I’m not sure I can get used to any of this,” I answered. I caught sight of my arm and scoffed at the excess of riches that was my atern. “It’s strange,” I said. “My whole life, all I wanted was this; this stupid bar on my arm to be full. For whatever reason, I thought it was all that mattered. I thought it would make me happy.” Blinking back tears, I continued, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been unhappier than this.”

  “We’re going to make it right,” Karr said, his voice high and light. I could tell he was lying, of course.

  I scoffed, running hands through my hair. “You can’t promise that. Not that it matters. I’m not even sure I know what right is anymore. I couldn’t say I’d recognize it.”

  “I would,” he said. “If it was right in front of me. I’m sure of it.”

  He blinked as he looked at me with a strange expression on his face. It was as though he barely recognized the person he was seeing, as though I was brand new somehow. I shuddered a little, unsure of how that made me feel.

  “I don’t want you to be afraid of any of this, Lara” he continued. “We can survive. I swear. We just have to stick together. We have to keep our heads down and try to go unnoticed.”

  “Unnoticed?” I said, my eyes growing wide and my heart beating faster. “I’ve been called by name, Karr. For the first time in forever, you were sent back, and it was for the sole purpose of bringing me here. I’m going to guess that Westman and that band of lunatics the Elders told me he gathered are looking for me right now.”

  “We’ll stop them,” he said, using the same patented ‘Karr confidence’ he always seemed to have. Even when we were young, he’d always looked at the faction and seen possibilities where I looked at it and saw chains.

  “You and me against an army?” It broke my heart just a little to deflate him the way I intended to, but I couldn’t allow him or anyone else to get my hopes up. This was a suicide mission. I’d known as much going in here. I couldn’t allow myself to think otherwise. It was too dangerous.

  “Not at all, Lara.” He smiled over at me. “I told you, time moves differently here, but that doesn’t mean it affects us in the same way. In fact, it doesn’t seem to affect us at all.”

  “What?” I asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

  “Time,” he stated simply. “It doesn’t matter here. None of us age. None of us wither away the way we would back in the faction. Sure, we can be killed… and many of us have been… but time won’t ravage us. The people who were thrown into this box never knew what it was to age another day. Even the first of them, who have been in here for hundreds of years in their perspective, are still the same as they were the day they got here.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked. “What does that have to do with it being us against an army?”

  “I’m saying there have been a lot of us over the years. I’m saying not all of us died. Not by a longshot.” He smiled ever bigger now. “I’m saying Westman isn’t the only person with an army.”

  A flicker of hope came to life within me, but quickly wilted as I took stock of the situation.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I sighed, taking Karr’s hand. “Westman wants me. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t matter. He’s the only one with the power to bring this night into the faction, the only one who can help everyone out there,” I said, pointing up to the sky as if the exit of the Box was up there somewhere. “Even if it’s a longshot, I have to give him what he wants. I have to give him myself.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Karr answered, almost sneering at me. His body stiffened, and his whole demeanor darkened. “You don’t even know what he wants from you.”

  “I know what he can give,” I shot back.

  “Okay then. Let’s go to him. By all means, if you think it’s the best way to go about this, I’m here with you. Let’s not do it alone, though. Like I said, there are more than a few people out there who are chomping at the bit to go toe to toe with Westman. Let’s get them first. Then we’ll march up to his castle, as you wish. But we’ll do it with some backing behind us. We’ll do it with enough people to make a statement, let Westman know he can’t just do whatever he wants.”

  “We don’t have time for that, Karr,” I said, swallowing hard. “Who knows how long the people outside in the faction have until their world is utterly destroyed?”

  Karr shook his head. “All we have is time,” he answered. “We’ll be in here for weeks before the people out in the faction are even able to walk back to their homes. Things work differently in here—remember? So let’s use that to our advantage.”

  I took a beat. As much as I hated to admit it, Karr made sense. Going to get help might not be the worst thing in the world. Still, why did I feel like it was? Maybe, somewhere deep inside of me, the idea of actually making it through this was worse than dying.

  To live my life out like this might be even worse than the death I was sure would await me just minutes ago. At least, in death, I’d be with Arbor again… wherever she was now.

  But what would Arbor think of that sort of idea? Would she really want me throwing away a chance at the only life I had left because I was tired or afraid… or just depressed?

  “Okay,” I said, nodding firmly and keeping my friend’s face and what I thought her wishes for me would be in the forefront of my mind. “I’ll do it. Show me the way to this… army.”

  “Good,” Karr said, grinning. His bright eyes, brighter than any sun in the faction, tore into me. “It won’t be easy, though, I’m afraid. Judging by the trees here, I’m fairly certain we’ve landed a long way from the safe house where my people are holed up.”

  “They’re your people now?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. I wasn’t sure why, but his words struck me the wrong way. It hadn’t been that long ago for me, that Arbor and I could have been described as ‘his people.’

  And where had that gotten us? Arbor was dead, and I was likely soon to follow. He had others now, though, other people he trusted and other people he relied on. It infuriated me, and I knew why. While him being thrown in the Box and the events that happened afterward had destroyed my life and left me all alone, Karr had managed to use that to be decidedly not alone.

  “It’s been years for me, Lara. In those years, I’ve fought alongside these people. I’ve eaten with them, slept beside them. I’ve come to consider them family.”

  “Stop it,” I said, snapping at him, because the word ‘family’ was a bridge too far for sure. “You’re an orphan. You don’t have any family.” I shook my head, tears burning behind my eyes. “And now, neither do I, thanks to you.”

  Karr’s gaze cast toward
the ground. His mouth tightened, and he sighed heavily. “I know I can’t make what I did right. I know I can’t undo it, but—” He fell silent, his eyes darting back up to me.

  “Go ahead,” I said. Even as I said the words—even as I found myself unable to stop myself—I knew it was wrong. It wasn’t his fault. We’d been over this. But there was still some part of me that wasn’t letting go. “I’m really interested in knowing how that sentence ends, because I can’t imagine anything that would make it better.”

  “Quiet,” he said tersely.

  “Excuse me?” I balked, instinctively jerking backward.

  “Stay behind me,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he spun, his back facing me. “There’s something out there.”

  “Out where?” I asked, my body tensing as I neared him.

  Whatever Karr had heard had completely bypassed my own ears. I stood there, breathing heavy as the idea of what this thing might be ran through my head. What kind of creatures live in a nightmare world? Not good ones, I was certain of that.

  “Don’t look up,” Karr said. His body had gone still, all expect his hand, which grabbed my arm.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I said, mimicking his stance and going nearly completely still.

  “It’s an unkindness,” he said, not daring to move his head enough to look at me. “Black avian creatures. They fly through the night, serving as both spies and executioners for Westman and his people.”

  “Birds?” I asked, my voice low and deliberate. “You’re talking about birds.”

  “No,” he muttered. “Much more than that. Birds are mostly harmless. These things are bloodthirsty, and smart enough to take us down without much resistance. They travel in groups, and I’ve watched them take out more than a few of the greatest warriors I’ve ever seen.” He swallowed hard and squeezed my hand. “And, if I’m not mistaken, there’s an entire group of them settled overhead.”