by Casey Hays
I drown in the pools that float in his dark eyes, and I can say nothing. Because honestly… I have no idea.
Thunder suddenly growls in the distance as if to seal our fate.
*
And so, it is done.
At first, I’m simply numb, and I can’t sort out my feelings. My head tells me that to preserve my own safety, I’ve done the right thing. To save Chad, I’ve done the right thing. And the old Mia—the one who was simply a breeder bent on duty without any fuss—she would have agreed.
But my heart stands in the way.
I wish Kate were here. She would know what I should do.
Every day, I endure Ash’s gloating. And though I don’t receive the lashing she thinks I deserve, her haughtiness proves that she believes whole-heartedly she’s won. It sickens me.
I stop going to the dining hall, choosing to eat from the community kettle that serves the eight hogans in my section. It doesn’t take long for my loneliness to return more prevalently than ever.
I cry myself to sleep nearly every night the first week. Oddly, I miss my treks to the Pit, and I miss Chad. I miss our midnight vigils. I miss our talks. I miss falling asleep in his arms.
I miss the feel of his skin on mine.
I toy with the leather token as a tear slides down my cheek, and I wonder how things are with him—if he’s adjusting to this new role. This thought eats at me, because again, I know I’m to blame for his having to adjust at all. Stock don’t adjust; they simply do what they are conditioned to do.
It bothers me to think that his life could be in danger because of my carelessness. I’m angry for letting myself succumb to my feelings, and I fight them now, trying to turn them off. I even go so far as to remove the leather drawstring from my thumb. It lays beside me on my mat for only ten seconds before I struggle to one-handedly retie it.
I am ruined.
The days roll by; Ash gloats; my heart groans as it fights me…
And there is no word of Chad.
*
As much as I’d prefer to wallow inside my hogan, it isn’t practical, and eventually, I’m forced to return to some sort of semblance of my village life. There are my chores, after all, which will not be overlooked by the Council. And I must think about the baby now. If I want to deliver a healthy child who might be spared to become part of our community, I must eat, get sunshine, be active.
My assignment today… to gather potatoes. I retrieve a basket from the preparation area behind the dining hall and take the path that leads to the west field.
The sunshine is warm on my back as I kneel in the dirt, digging up the largest potatoes and leaving others to ripen further. Other women silently work around me. I toss a glance at the gardeners who busy themselves with tilling one field over, and the fear of starving to death suddenly has no merit. And the longer Kate is gone, the fire sparked by her words begins to dissipate, and life in the Village resembles what it once did.
On the cooks’ orders, twenty-seven full baskets of potatoes are needed, and when the sun is past the noon mark, I carefully balance the final potato on top of my load and stand. Dirt cakes the underneath of my fingernails and the creases of my palms as I take the basket up into my arms and move toward the path. I don’t get far before Ash, arms crossed over her chest, blocks my way. I narrow my eyes.
“I’ve come to fetch you to the Council,” she announces. I pause, the basket balanced on my hip, and a strange sensation begins to batter my heart. I blink once.
“Why?”
Ash takes a step, a belligerent glint in her eyes. “Because they told me to.”
I shake my head confused. “And why would they send you for me?”
She huffs indignantly, studies a fingernail a moment before she answers. “My mate is missing. And the Council seems to think you may know something about it.”
The air suddenly seems to rush backward and away as this news floats between us. The astonishment smeared across my face causes her to drop her hands to her sides, tilt her head curiously, and squint at me.
“You don’t know where he’s gone, do you?”
“No,” I answer, a panic rising in my chest. “Why would he go anywhere?”
“Yes.” She narrows her eyes at me, her malice suddenly back. “Why would he?”
“He’s not in his cave?” I brush past her, hiking the basket a little higher up my hip and scurrying up the path as fast as my heavy load will allow.
“Didn’t I just stay this?” she snaps. She follows close on my heels, working to keep with my pace. “You know, this is all Kate’s fault.”
I toss her an angry glance over my shoulder. “That’s lovely, Ash. Blame someone who isn’t here to defend herself.”
“And whose fault is that?” she asks. “She carved her own fate.”
At least someone did, I think. I cringe and squint upward.
“Her foolish ideas have tainted too many of the women,” she continues. “The Council is becoming very agitated.”
I have to wonder if she tells the truth, especially after Leah told me the Council was beginning to get a handle on the situation.
We enter the Village. I drop my load of potatoes at the kitchen door and douse my hands in a vat of cleansing water while Ash waits impatiently. And by the time we arrive at the Great Hall, my stomach is so twisted in knots, I fear I’ll never be able to untangle it.
The women gather around the platform in the large assembly room. Several heads turn as we enter, but the only sound is the pattering of our footsteps on the wooden floor. I search for Leah until I find her. She stands to the side of the platform next to old Anna Maria, her expression unreadable. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Better yet, I wish she could read my mind. Then, she would know I’ve done nothing but comply with her order since the moment I left the Pit.
Tara sits on the edge of the platform, but she rises as we near. The others, without moving a muscle, seem to fall into place behind her… waiting. I swallow the bile that clings to my throat.
“Well?” Tara sneers resting a fist atop the coil of rope at her belt.
I shake my head. “I knew nothing of this until Ash came for me.”
“Is that so?” Her eyes slant suspiciously, but I raise my shoulders to reach my full, tall height.
“I have no reason to go to the Pit, and I have not been there in over a week.” I pause, glancing at Leah. “I don’t know where he could be.”
I work to keep the trembling out of my voice, but it’s no use. Tara holds my gaze, and I grow uneasy.
“I fear we’ve miscalculated the stock’s lack of desire to leave their dwellings,” Eleanor says. My eyes drift in her direction. “We must have more locksmiths. Two, even working at full capability, will not do.”
“How many of the stock are missing?” Anna Maria’s voice croaks with her age.
“One other, as of right now. And a dangerous one at that.” Eleanor huffs, crossing her arms. “We cannot have an uprising among the stock as well. With our shortage, the situation would be dire. We must repair the locks more quickly.” She turns to Laura, the Bull. “Are there any among the other women with the skill?”
“I’m afraid not,” Laura replies with a shake of her head. “Locksmithing is a very specific skill.”
Leah’s eyes stay locked on mine as the women continue to discuss the locksmiths, and I see a heavy question in her mind. I promised her I would tell her if I saw any signs of rebellion among the breeders. Unfortunately, thanks to Chad’s strange disappearance, it appears I am the only rebel among us.
With that thought, I intake a sharp breath. What have I done?
Only Leah notices, her eyes shifting slightly. I close my mouth quickly and focus on Tara’s stern expression.
“This is unheard of,” Tara weaves her arms together over her chest, stopping all other conversation. “What would entice a conditioned dog to leave his hole whether the gate is locked or not? Mia? Might you have some insight into this?”
; Every eye is suddenly on me. I hold my breath, thinking perhaps they can read my mind after all. And if so, they will see that I’m almost certain I know where he’s gone and that I’m choosing to keep this information from them. To my credit, it’s not easy, and a struggle begins to ensue inside my gut, tearing at my conscience. Still I keep silent. Tara peers at me, eyes narrowing.
“I suppose we should mention the other missing dog is Kate’s mate.”
I lift my head, confused. “You mean… Ian?”
“No.” A look of disgust crosses her face. “Although his body disappeared as well. Those… intruders must have taken it with them.” She purses her lips. “We’re talking about her second assignment.”
Ash gasps beside me, but I raise my hands toward the Council in a pleading gesture. “What does this have to do with me? I don’t even know what he looks like.”
The Council remains silent. Tara tucks her fingers into the crook of her opposite elbow and rubs at her chin. “And yet, how strange that both your mate and hers are the two dogs who have defied their destinies.”
I feel the token snug on my thumb, and I carefully ease my hand behind my back, a move Leah doesn’t miss.
“What’s done is done,” a stout council member named Eve says, her voice lacking a single hint of concern. “I say we wash our hands of them and concentrate on securing the rest.”
A series of nods makes its round. Ash has been incredibly quiet by my side, but she raises her voice at this.
“But… what about me? What am I to do? I’ve already lost one mate. It seems unfair that I should lose another.”
The Council exchanges a few glances, but the question is finally deferred to Tara.
“We understand your predicament, girl. There is simply nothing to do for the moment. We don’t have enough stock to spare another.”
She takes in a long breath, holds it, her fists clenched at her sides. “Then what am I to do? How am I supposed to contribute to the Village? It is my duty.” A sudden fear seems to clutch her, and a noticeable shiver shakes her whole body. “The Moirai demand it,” she whispers.
I cringe. I know all too well how she feels, and I gratefully press my hand more definitely against my abdomen.
“Well, the gods are going to have to send us more males if they expect the Moirai to hold us accountable,” Eleanor reasons.
“And what of our Village?” Ash takes a brave step forward. “What will become of us if no more male babies are born?”
No one says a word, and the room grows tense. Finally, Anna Maria breaks the silence.
“Now, now. I’ve lived a long time, girl,” she addresses Ash, raising her head to meet her eyes. “I’ve endured more trouble in life than anyone else in this room, including a shortage of stock—twice before. We are still here.”
This does nothing to appease Ash, and her lips purse into a straight, hard line.
“It isn’t fair,” she repeats.
“Go, Ash,” Tara demands. Her voice is heavy with irritation. “Your complaint is noted.”
At this, Ash releases an angry hiss of a sigh and turns on her heels. I stand perfectly still and tall, waiting to be dismissed. Tara’s eyes fall over me.
“As for you...” She settles on the edge of the platform again, appearing casual despite the tension floating on the air. “You will not enjoy the punishment I’ve devised for you if I so much as find one clue that you’ve aided in the dog’s escape.”
I swallow. My eyes flick toward Leah and back to Tara.
“I’m watching you, Mia. You’d best tread more carefully than your friends.”
That is threat enough. With a submissive bow, I turn. Everything in me wants to run, but I force myself to take slow, calculated, and unsuspicious steps. The room seems suddenly so much larger than when I first arrived, and in my thinking, the door looms from miles away. But finally, I duck out into the afternoon sun and away from the Council’s searching eyes. With a huge sigh of relief, I press my back against the warm surface of the outside wall, checking my surroundings. Ash is gone, and I see no one else. I must be quick. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, slip around the backside of the Great Hall, and head toward the river.
Chapter 11
T
he sound of the rushing waters hits my ears before the river comes into view. I scramble over the terrain, ignoring the dead twigs and branches that reach out to scratch at my shins. At one point, a greedy bramble yanks on my skirt, hoping to keep a piece of it. I tug it free, but a shred tears away, and the shrub gets its wish.
Our spot by the river is reclusive and well-hidden from the prying eyes of the Village. Kate, Diana and I chose it for that very reason, and for as long as I can remember, we’ve kept it a secret. I come to a halt next to the tall tree that lends its shade over the spot and lean the heel of my hand against the trunk, lungs heaving. My eyes dart across the area.
“Chad?” The sound of my puffing breath is my answer. Straightening, I turn a circle, scanning. “Chad!”
Panic rises. Where is he? I was so sure he would come here. I make another wide circle, scanning the river, the tree line. Nothing.
“Chad!”
Time is running short, and I have no doubt Tara will live up to her words. She may already be at my hogan, and if she doesn’t find me there...
I push the thought away. Hopefully, council business has kept her at the Great Hall. They must have had other things to discuss.
I scurry along the river until I reach the path that leads to the Pit. I could be wrong about believing he would come here. I did only bring him once. He must have forgotten the way.
At the entrance to the path, I see the two guards, and they see me. They move in my direction.
“Girl? What is your business here?” one says, her beady eyes narrowed suspiciously.
I think about shrinking away without answering until I recognize the other guard. Ruth. She pins her gaze on me.
“Where are you headed, Mia?”
“I was...” I fumble with the hem of my blouse. “I was spending time at the river when I decided to go to the Pit.” I pause. They stare. “It’s faster to take this path… rather than going all the way around.”
Ruth takes me in. “You didn’t happen to see anyone come through? A dog, perhaps?”
I feign surprise. “A dog? Why would I see such a thing?”
The other guard frowns, but she waves me on. “Move along, girl. You’re no help to us.”
I leave them, pretending to move on toward the Pit, but when they disappear into the overgrowth, I double back, moving past the path and further down the river. With every step, my worry grows.
*
By late afternoon, I’ve given up hope, and when the sun begins to drop over the western mountains, I fear that Chad has vanished from the face of the earth. No doubt, Tara is looking for me by now, and despair floods over me. With a heavy heart, I turn toward the Village.
The breeze kicks up a loose end of my hair just as the rustling of the undergrowth reaches me. Clutching my chest, I twist toward the sound, and there he is—his hair wet from a recent dip in the river. He scrambles along a row of overgrown lilac bushes. With a sigh of relief, I close my eyes.
In the next second, I’m in his arms and my feet leave the ground. He nuzzles his face into the curve of my neck until I laugh at the precious feel of him. My hands slide up into his hair, pulling him closer, and I take in the fresh fragrance of his river-washed skin.
“You had me so worried,” I whisper. He holds me close, his face still buried against by throat. “Chad, what are you thinking?”
He lowers me to the ground, and I lean back to take in his eyes. They are seared with a deep fear that is only slightly relieved by my presence.
“I’m thinking too many things,” he says quietly.
I press my palm against his cheek and he wraps his fingers around my wrist.
“I never used to think,” he says. “I could go days without having one thought.
” His fingers tighten. “That was before you. Before all of this.” He gestures with his hand outstretched. “Now, I must think. All the time.”
I lay my free hand against his chest. “What you’re doing is very dangerous.”
He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Last night, I dreamed about the river,” he says, and I straighten. “Vivid. I could smell it and feel the water on my skin just like that night. When I woke, the walls of my cave seemed so close. Tight. I couldn’t breathe.” He pauses, focuses on me. “I counted the days. I knew she was coming back.” He swallows. “I can’t breathe when she’s there. The gate was still open, and it was so easy to walk out.”
“Easy,” I repeat, guilty. It was easy because I made it easy for him. I am to blame for his insubordination. “Chad.” His name eases from my lips, and I try to keep my tone as gentle as possible. “You have to go back.”
He pulls away from me, startled. “You want me to go back there?”
“I—” I hesitate. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It doesn’t matter what you want. We don’t get a say in the matter.”
His eyes scan the expanse of the sky before he drops his gaze to the clear waters of the river. The current tugs against the rocks, and I feel the tug of his desires, and my own, in the motion. But what can we do? If we defy the Council, we cannot win.
“Chad—”
“No.” His piercing eyes settle on my face. “I won’t do it.”
I blink once, shock crashing through me, but I know then how very serious he is. I swallow, raising my hands slightly.
“What are you going to do? Live here by the river forever? How will you eat? Where will you sleep?”
“I found a place.” He nods excitedly. “On the other side of the river. No one will find me there. And there are plenty of fish in the water. I saw one today.”
I shake my head with a small laugh. “So you have it all planned, do you?”
“Yes.”
His answer is so sure—his scheming is so innocent, so full of hope in its own way—and my heart rumbles in my chest with so much feeling that one would think the answer to this dilemma would be there in its beating. But there is no easy answer to this problem. And I cannot hide such a large secret here beside the river’s edge. And besides, I am a loyal member of the Village clan. I’ve already done enough damage without meaning to, and I am no traitor.