The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella

by Casey Hays

  Casey Hays

  Whispering Pages, LLC

  Copyright © 2016 by Casey Hays

  Editor: Anna Faulk

  Graphic Designer: M.A. Phipps

  Published by Whispering Pages, LLC, an independently owned company.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Publisher Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella, bk 1 / by Casey Hays

  168 p. 22.86 cm

  ISBN 978-0-9905698-6-2

  1. Young women - - Fiction. 2. Survivalism - - Fiction 3. Christian fiction - -

  I. Hays, Casey, 1972-

  PZ7.H3149176 SCE 2016

  [FIC]

  Books by Casey Hays

  The Cadence

  A stand-alone YA Contemporary Fantasy

  The Arrow's Flight Series

  Breeder

  The Archer

  Master

  The Arrow's Flight Novellas

  The Scent of Lilac

  A Heart of Flesh (forthcoming)

  A Tongue of Fire (forthcoming)

  A Soul of Stone (forthcoming)

  For Mary and Cheree

  who love me sight unseen

  make me laugh until my side hurts

  and have rooms reserved next door to me in Heaven

  ...you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes.

  Song of Solomon 4:9

  Chapter 1

  I

  stretch my hand forward, allowing the lonely purple flower to slip from my fingers. It flutters downward to rest on top of the mound… so out of place amid the other gifts: food, brilliantly-colored cloths, the wooden hilt of a favorite sword or two. My gift of one purple lilac appears quite simple.

  I don’t cry. It would be useless to shed a tear. Tears will change nothing.

  The other women were long gone before I returned to Mona’s graveside with my humble if not insulting gift. I wasn’t sure at first why I chose it—Kate’s favorite scent. I had plenty of other much more valuable possessions to spare, but in the end... it seemed fitting somehow.

  I lift my eyes and scan the clouds that roll over the horizon in shades of purples and blues and pinks. In the shadows of the mountain, I see the scattered dotting of other graves. Some are marked; some are so overgrown with wild vegetation they are hardly visible. Meg is there somewhere... and Layla. I think of them, and for the first time in my life, I feel numb.

  I feel… alone.

  The shock of this thought overtakes me. The sun is rising, and I blame the tears that suddenly flood my eyes on its brightness. I turn away from the mountains and scurry up the path that leads through the clearing and into the Village.

  In the few days since Kate left, a strange temperament has overtaken the Village. I’ve heard the women talking, low and late into the night. And though none of them have voiced their opinions publicly to the Council, the change in their attitudes cannot be missed. Many have taken Kate’s defiant words to heart—a dangerous prospect. Fate does not allow for choices, yet this was Kate’s strongest desire—to have a choice. Of course, Kate never believed in Fate. Not really. As for me, I am afraid of what her words may have done.

  My hogan comes into view, and a small pang of relief stabs me at the sight of it. Safe. I push away a strand of dark hair disturbed by the breeze and pick up my pace.

  Ten steps from my door, I see her standing between two hogans, arms crossed, legs planted in an intimidating stance. Tara visits quietly with Daija and Ash, and the solid confidence exuding from her cuts through me. I cringe and hurry past them, but not before I see her head shift to follow my movements.

  Perhaps she hasn’t come to speak to me, but I ready myself for her constant question anyway: Have I seen Kate?

  I haven’t. And I have no answers to her other questions either. Where are the prisoners? What happened to Ian’s body? I don’t know why she thinks I would have this information. I’m as much at a loss as she is. Still... she persists.

  If Tara has another chance, she will tear Kate to pieces. She’s been clear. And we all know this stems far deeper than mere revenge for Mona’s death. Mona was a Scorpio, and Tara is well aware that if Kate ever has a change of heart, her position on the Council will be finished. For Tara was born under the sign of the Archer, as was Kate. And the ledger is clear: twelve council members, twelve signs. It will be her duty to step down and let another Scorpio take her place.

  Just as I’m about to reach the safety of my hogan, she calls out to me, and my emotions boil raw beneath the thin layer of my skin. I turn, take a tentative step backward until my heel finds the familiar raised bump of earth just outside the threshold of my door. She approaches.

  “Any news of Kate?”

  I swallow. “No. I have not seen her in eight days, same as you.”

  I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting tears. Kate was clear when she left that it may be the last time we saw each other. She spoke of finding Ian’s village, and I have no doubt that she will.

  Rumors abound about the boys in the metal cages. Even those who didn’t see them with their own eyes have heard the stories from those who did. And no one believes that those giants were from the stock—another point of unrest among the women. The Council has had its hands full forming plausible theories, but every one of them has fallen flat with the villagers. Because of Mona’s ambition, the secret is out. We are not the only Village after all.

  I still can’t wrap my mind around it, but I believed Kate. Even before her speech in the clearing, I believed. Still, I fear she and Diana will not survive for long outside the Village.

  “You are her best friend, Mia.” Tara’s voice pulls me back. “Surely, she told you something.”

  I focus on her dauntless, brown eyes.

  “She told me good-bye,” I say sharply, and then I shudder as my tone batters around inside my head. What am I doing? I don’t speak to authority this way.

  Tara doesn’t seem bothered. She sighs, letting her hands drop to her sides.

  “Very well,” she says with a nod. When I visibly sigh with relief, she lifts a finger. “If you see her—if she returns at any time and makes contact with you—you will come directly to me. Do you understand this?”

  I blink once. “And what will you do to her if I choose to comply?”

  Tara narrows her eyes. “You’d best choose to comply. And what I do to her is council business.” She pauses dramatically, her jaw clenching once. “Kate’s little speech has caused quite a disturbance, and she must be reined in before the women grow out of hand.”

  “But her name was in the box. I think that entitles her to speak.”

  “That was clearly a mistake.” Tara’s voice quips with a low growl, and her face turns hard. I take in a surprised breath and focus on a small, flat mole just to the left of her lower lip. I’ve never noticed it before.

  “Are you saying the Moirai were wrong?” I ask.

  She growls again. “Don’t put words in my mouth. What I’m saying is don’t disappoint me, Mia. I’m counting on you—as Kate’s friend—to do right by her. What she needs is discipline, and you know this. You of all people should have her best interest in mind.”

  I see what she’s attempting immediately, and a frown penetrates my brow. I may not be the brightest among the women, but I know when I’m being manipulated.

  “Is execution still your intention?”

  She steps
in close enough for me to feel her hot breath, and she doesn’t answer the question. From the corner of my eye, I see Ash and Daija and a few other women watching our encounter.

  “You will report to me.”

  I purse my lips, but I nod, suddenly frightened. Tara eases back.

  “I know you, Mia.” She attempts a smile that comes closer to a scowl. “You have always obeyed the rules, unlike your friends, and the Council respects this in you. We expect that you will continue to do so. It has always served you well.”

  I study her, my heart sinking at the truth in her words. I don’t cross lines; I don’t like contention. I’ve always believed the rules laid out for our Village were in place to protect us—to keep peace and order. I still believe this despite Kate’s recent actions. So there is no need for Tara’s speech. I nod briskly.

  “That is my plan,” I say.

  A satisfaction crosses her features even as a hint of my betrayal slips through me. I felt this once before… the day Ian hit Kate. I believed it was my duty to protect her from her mate. I believed it so strongly that I disregarded her feelings completely. But my actions placed her into Mona’s thoughts more solidly than ever, and Kate suffered.

  I should have kept my tongue quiet. I never do, and I hate this about myself. I look at Tara.

  “May I go?”

  Tara nods, and I slip through the bamboo leaves before I can make anymore promises.

  Chapter 2

  I

  stay hidden inside my hogan all day, tucked under my blankets, ignoring my chores and wallowing in my own grief. I don’t know which emotion plagues me more strongly: sadness or fear.

  Or anger.

  I am sad, no doubt. I grieve for my friends—all of them. And Mona?

  I’ve struggled long and hard over my feelings concerning Mona. I have never felt the blatant disregard for her authority that Kate expressed. In fact, I admired Mona in many ways. She was strong and loyal to the Village. She kept us safe. I was perfectly happy to follow the rules—content even. Mona never gave me a second glance; I was obedient to a fault. She was chosen to lead us; there was no reason to fight against it. Fate cannot be challenged. Nor should it be. It was all that simple.

  I bite my lip as I think of it. Here, Kate and I differed in every respect, yet I did not understand how much so until Kate’s celebration. For the first time, looking so beautiful in her white sarong at the head table, I saw the true fight in my friend.

  I was angry with her often after this—even going so far as to report in to Mona when I felt Kate had crossed yet another line. But I was justified in doing so. At least, I thought so at the time.

  What I truly wanted was Kate—my Kate, who shared a mat with me in the nursery. I missed that Kate—the one who couldn’t care less about a rebellion.

  I sigh and roll over to face the wall. Mona’s death saddens me, but my fear?

  My fear lies in my uncertainty. I dread the thought of not knowing what is coming with Mona gone. Of how different the Village might become because a young girl took the life of its leader—something that has never occurred before in all of our history.

  What could it mean?

  A shudder explodes through me, and I untangle myself from my blankets and struggle to my feet.

  Tara has taken temporary charge of the Village while the Council convenes to make the hard decisions left for them by Kate’s absence. Another characteristic of our history: We have never been without a leader, and frankly, the women are restless, unsure of what they should do in the interim. Kate’s departure has left an uncertain pall hanging over our heads. I can feel it in the air.

  I’m pacing—a common habit for me—and I force myself to a halt, wringing my hands. I have nobody—no one left to confide in—and the idea of how alone I am consumes me for a moment.

  In the midst of it, my mate’s face clouds my mind, and I involuntarily sigh. I still have that.

  Without another thought, I throw a thin shawl over my shoulders and slip outside.

  It’s late afternoon. Several of the women are making preparations for the evening meal. They squat on their doorsteps, cutting vegetables, skinning rabbit for a stew. They speak softly, their tones emotionless, and I sense the same numbness in them that I have felt since Mona’s death. But Daija pauses in skinning a rabbit and lifts her head, and her features change drastically when she sees me. I detect hatred in her eyes, and for a moment, I’m struck with alarm. Is that look meant for me? A shock crashes through my bones when she speaks.

  “So you’ve decided to crawl out of your hole, have you?”

  Her hard gaze freezes me in place. Gina and Ash stop their work to listen, a gleam of humor in their eyes. Three hogans over, Blaer emerges, thinks better of it, and pauses to hover in the arch of her doorway out of sight.

  “Little Mia.” Daija rises to her feet, rabbit blood dripping from the ends of her fingertips. “Where are you headed? A secret rendezvous with Kate to see what other havoc you can wreak?”

  I take a surprised backward step, my eyes darting toward the other two. They don’t move, waiting. Several women pause in their dinner preparations to watch. I refocus on Daija’s ugly face.

  “Where is she hiding? Perhaps I’ll follow you and kill her myself.”

  Fear mounts. I don’t want any trouble with the hunter. Avoiding her eyes, I make a move to pass by, but her quick fingers grasp my elbow in a bloody grip. Ash rises, her long, thin legs unfolding beneath her. She moves to my other side, leaning in close to my ear.

  “We’re watching you,” she whispers. “Mona will be avenged.”

  Gina keeps her place without a word. She runs a rock dramatically across the edge of an arrow point.

  I yank free from Daija’s slippery hold and shove past Ash. Their laughter bounces off my back as I stumble up the path. I catch Blaer’s eye just before she withdraws, leaving only a few bamboo leaves stirring as an indication that she was there at all.

  On the outskirts of the Village, I pause against a tree, looking over my shoulder with apprehension. They haven’t followed.

  “Breathe Mia,” I whisper. I bend, my hands against my knees as my nerves roil. “They’re nothing to you.”

  I huff with exasperation, reminding myself that Daija is a tyrant who takes every opportunity to intimidate, and Ash and Gina are her shadows. More than likely she means none of what she says. She toys with me to put me on edge. I had nothing to do with Mona’s death, and they will gain very little ground by harassing me over Kate’s whereabouts. Foolish girls!

  Below, the Pit is quiet. At the edge, I spot a silent fire pit, a shining clump of metal cages, and of course, a wide, crimson stain spreading out across the dust. I shudder.

  It took some time for the truth of Mona’s death to reach every one of us. Rumors flew, but soon we all knew Kate had pushed her. And in the process, the dog had fallen, too.

  An anger pierces me, deepening the red stain in my vision. I can’t help but to lay some of the blame on him. He changed Kate—made her feel things. Discontentment with this life. Affections for him.

  I saw him only twice, but I remember both times well. Blond hair curling out in a mess all over the top of his head and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that stole Kate’s heart and disappeared with it over the mountain. After him, she wasn’t the same.

  I angrily shove away the tear that appears and scramble over the top of the ladder. I would be glad for his death if it had returned things to the way they’d been. But it didn’t. He should have kept her heart and stayed away.

  The ladder rattles against the inside of the Pit as I make my way down.

  I haven’t been back since the day Kate left, and the Pit is uncharacteristically and eerily deserted. I’m not surprised. All of the breeders were given a reprieve to mourn Mona’s death, and most have taken advantage of it. Still, an uneasiness creeps in on me at the stillness.

  The metal cages loom ahead, standing tall and erect in the very center of the area, and
memories sweep in on me. The morning they’d been constructed, I’d shirked my duties, and Chad and I had watched from his cave. A few days later, Ian and his friends were imprisoned, and I began to believe Kate’s story of another village. I’d found Kate near the Pit in the bushes with one of them. After this, everything had exploded.

  We’re still wading through the aftermath.

  I pass behind the barracks to move down a row of cells. Usually, I find a jailer quickly, but today, even they seem to have abandoned their posts to mourn. I pause outside the cave and peer through the gate.

  “Chad?”

  He’s there instantly. His light, brown eyes pierce me, intense as always.

  “I didn’t see any jailers,” I say.

  “You don’t need one.” He lowers his eyes, indicating the large, wooden lock, and I follow his gaze. “It’s broken.”

  Confused, I pull. The gate moves outward. I stand in the doorway and stare at him.

  “What is this?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. When I woke up a few days ago, it was like this.”

  I stare for a minute longer before I sweep my eyes along the long row of caves to my left. It isn’t hard to see that every lock is broken.

  “Do you have any food?” Chad pulls my attention back to him. “I haven’t eaten today.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “Because no one brought food,” he answers matter-of-factly.

  I study him. He’s dirty, a streak of brown crusting out across his cheek. His hands are covered with dust, the nails caked with grime. He keeps his eyes pinned on me.

  “The jailers haven’t fed you today?”

  “No.” A kind of fevered desperation crosses his face “Will you bring me something?”

  I nod, at a complete loss. His shoulders slump with relief. The gate clatters when I release it. I pause as the latch falls into place against the splintered wood, and I peer at the bars more confused than ever. “Should I try to lock this somehow?”