The Scourge

by Henley, A. G.

  No one speaks. I stand up, my heart hammering. “I’ll go.” The crowd murmurs, sounding dubious. “I work in the caves; I’m comfortable here. I’ve spent as much time exploring them as the oldest among us. I have as good a chance of finding the Waters as any.”

  Sable says, “Child, thank you for your willingness to serve the community, but you must stay and collect the water.”

  “Aloe can collect the water. She said so this morning.”

  “But, Fenn, how will you find your way?” Calli asks timidly. She’s not used to speaking in front of the community.

  “How will anyone find their way? Like Sable said, the torches won’t stay lit forever. I’m not afraid of moving in the dark, and when the caves end I can leave without fear of the Scourge.”

  “And what then? Will you smell your way to the water?” Adder asks, his voice as irritating as a bee sting.

  “If I have to,” I say.

  “I’ll go with Fennel,” Bear says. “I’ll serve as her eyes.”

  There are several outbursts, but the voice I hear is Thistle’s. “That’s outrageous! An unpartnered boy and girl traveling together?”

  Aloe says, “Thank you for offering to assist my daughter, Bear. But as her mother, I cannot allow it.”

  “Better luck next time, hero,” someone mock-whispers nearby.

  “Shut up, Moray,” Bear mutters.

  “I’ll go with Fennel!” Eland calls out from across the room.

  “No!” Aloe and I say together.

  “But–”

  “No!”

  After a moment’s pause, I hear him sit down again. I face the community, clasping my hands together in front of me to keep from squirming.

  Sable says, “Fennel, are you willing to go alone?” I nod. “Aloe, are you willing to collect the water while she’s gone?”

  “I’ll do what’s needed for the community, but I’d like a word with Fennel—in private—before this is decided.”

  “Of course,” Sable agrees.

  “Come with me,” Aloe says.

  I pick my way across the main cave, listening to the hushed conversations of the people. I can’t tell if they’re for or against the idea of me going. Maybe they’re just relieved it won’t be them. I won’t say it out loud, but Adder is right. I don’t know what I’ll do when I leave the parts of the caves I know well. I remember how vulnerable I felt in the trees, without a map in my head to move by. My chest tightens, and I swallow hard.

  Aloe chooses the tunnel where I met with the Three, the night Rose and Jack died. I realize we haven’t really talked since then. When I’m not collecting water, I can usually be found curled up in a dark corner, sleeping. Aloe’s been busy with Council work, keeping the community organized while trying to dampen discontent. I have no idea if she’s still angry about my disobedience of the Council’s orders.

  I follow the rhythmic sound of her stick, and stop when she does. I feel the absolute silence of the vast, black caves beyond us. It’s sobering. I brace myself for a lecture, but instead Aloe hugs me. She smells as unwashed as any of us, but underneath that I can still smell her particular scent of herbs and iron. Her hands clench my arms, reminding me how strong she is. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Why?” She sounds curious, not challenging.

  “I want to help the community however I can. If the Scourge doesn’t leave, then we may have to. We’ll need a source of water.”

  “Fennel,” Aloe says in the clipped tone she uses when she’s about to call Eland out for some transgression or another, “I’m your mother. I know when you’re not telling me everything, and I want to know what it is before I agree to let you disappear alone into these caves.” She pauses. “Does this sudden desire to find the Hidden Waters have anything to do with Peree?”

  I'm surprised, but I try not to show it. “No, why?”

  “You spent the night in the trees with him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  Shock shoots through my belly. “How did you find out?”

  Aloe chuckles. “We weren't born yesterday, child. Shrike saw you leaving the trees that morning. He questioned Peree, then informed their Council. We still have to communicate with the Lofties at times, even while we’re in the caves.”

  “Why wasn’t I punished?”

  “Peree explained how the flesh-eaters behaved when you fell asleep. Sable and I agreed you’d been punished enough, given the circumstances.” I notice she didn’t say Adder agreed. He probably wanted to banish me.

  “Peree didn’t tell me you knew.”

  “The Lofties keep their own secrets, don’t forget,” Aloe says.

  “So he told them I was bitten?”

  She gasps. “No, I didn’t know you were . . . are you all right? Where were you bitten?”

  I touch my arm. “It didn’t break the skin. I think it’s healed now. It doesn’t hurt anymore, anyway.” I hesitate. “Did you know our protection fails when we fall asleep?”

  “Of course not, or I never would have agreed to the punishment.” I feel a rush of relief, and realize I’d been wondering all this time if Aloe knowingly allowed the Three to put me in danger. “The Lofty Council told us you thought you heard one of the creatures speak, and that it sounded like . . . someone you knew.”

  More relief. I’ve wanted to tell someone for days, but I didn’t want to make anything worse. “It sounded so much like Rose, but I was so tired, I couldn’t be sure. Did anything like that ever happen to you?”

  Aloe doesn’t answer for a moment. “There were times when I thought I heard something that might have been words.”

  “Did you tell the Council?”

  “Yes. There were no secrets between us. Unlike between you and me these days.”

  I hang my head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about disobeying the Council orders, and about Rose, and the bite, and staying in the trees. But since you joined the Three–” I stop, losing courage, but she waits for me to finish. “I haven’t been sure, when I talk to you, whether I’m talking to my mother, or reporting to the Council.”

  She takes my hands in hers. “Fennel, I’d hoped that we’d have more time to talk after I joined the Three, and before the Scourge came. You’ve had to bear more than your share of hardship—the Scourge only stayed two days my first time collecting the water.”

  I think about Aloe at my age, and wonder how much stronger than me, how much braver, she must have been.

  “There are many things you need to know,” she continues, “but now isn’t the time. So I’ll say this: you’ve come to the point in your life when what’s best for you won’t always be what’s best for me, or even for the community. You must decide on the right course for yourself now. But no matter what you do, or what I do, know this—I love you, always.” She kisses the back of my hand; her chapped lips are warm against my skin. “That said, I still need to know why you have this sudden desire to search for the Hidden Waters.”

  I frown. Aloe’s words confused me. I’m happy she’s not angry with me, but I’m even less sure than before how much to confide in her. What I want to tell her is that knowing Peree makes me think the Lofties may not be as terrible as we’ve been told, that maybe they’re more like us than I’ve ever imagined. And if they’re more like us, then a time might come when there won’t need to be a division between us—when we aren’t confined to the ground or the trees; when we can raise our own babies; when we can fight the Scourge side by side. A time when Peree and I might stand together as equals, not as Lofty and Groundling. But I don’t dare go so far. Those ideas would be considered scandalous.

  “I want to help,” I repeat. That’s the truth, too, if not the whole truth. “Aloe, why does Adder seem to hate the Lofties so much, even more than anyone else? Why does he want to pick fights with them?”

  She sighs. “He does have his reasons. Did you know he was intended once?”

  I grimace, repelled by the tho
ught of partnering with Adder. “To who?”

  “Her name was Peony. She was very sweet, and the sighted raved about her beauty. She adored Adder.”

  “Was she all right in the head?” I ask.

  Aloe laughs again. “Adder was brave and clever, and he loved Peony. But he was reckless in those days, and he never knew when to stop his tongue. One day he was showing off for some friends, taunting a Lofty, and the Lofty shot at him. I think it was meant only as a warning. Adder jumped out of the way, and the arrow hit Peony. She died a few days later.” She taps her cane on the rock floor. “People change, Fennel, and not always for the better. Adder became increasingly bitter, more hateful toward the Lofties. I suspect he even has a prejudice against Lofty children given to us in the Exchange.”

  “Well, that would explain why he seems to hate me,” I say.

  “He doesn’t seem to like either of us, it’s true,” Aloe admits. “Adder can be stubborn, difficult. But he serves our community well, and he’s committed to the well-being of the people. We owe him a great deal for his service. People have faults, daughter, and we must try to forgive them as much as we can. Now, enough about the past.” Her voice is all business again. “Are you sure you understand the dangers of this search?”

  I nod.

  “You’ll only be able to carry about three days’ worth of drinking water. If you’ve found no sign of the Hidden Waters after two days, you must return. Promise me you will, and you have my permission to go.”

  I promise her.

  “Fennel, think about this while you’re gone: I can tell you have feelings for Peree, feelings of friendship, maybe more. But even if he shares your feelings, you’ll always be less than human in the eyes of his people, little better than a flesh-eater. And he’d be hardly better in the eyes of yours. Your feelings can only lead to despair.”

  I nod again. I know she’s right, but a part of me—an increasingly stubborn part—wishes she wasn’t.

  By morning I’m ready to go, at least physically. I have a pack stuffed with food, water, extra clothing, and a bag of herbs from Majoram in case of minor illness or injury. Eland insisted I take his warmer bedroll, and Calli gave me her extra dress for layering in the cold. Bear made sure I packed the rabbit’s foot. “Just in case,” he said.

  I also have my “breadcrumbs:” a pouch stuffed with foul-smelling crampberries. I had the idea to smear them along the walls of the cave every so often as I walked. Their potent scent lasts for weeks when crushed. I should have no problem following my nose back home, and I’m pretty sure nothing will be tempted to eat the nasty things.

  I’ve said my good-byes to Aloe, Eland, and Calli. Others come by to wish me luck. Bear asks if he can walk with me to the end of the first passageway. I’m surprised, but I agree. He plucks my pack off my shoulder and slings it over his own.

  We walk in uncomfortable silence through the short tunnel, the crackling of his torch the only sound. I’m stiff with fear, thinking about what I’m about to do. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself, and the acrid smoke makes me cough. We reach the fork in the tunnel. To the right is the cave mouth and the forest. To the left is the passage I’ll take that leads deeper into the caves, and another, mostly unused passageway that eventually opens to the outside. Bear hands me my pack.

  “I wish I could go with you,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “I don’t like you wandering in the caves all alone, any more than when you’re outside with . . . them.”

  “I’ll be all right." I would’ve welcomed Bear’s company—any company—on my journey, but I wonder how he would’ve managed in the ceaseless dark of the caves, after the torch went out.

  “I know you can handle yourself. It’s me. I want to protect you. Do you remember during the fever a few years ago, when I was so sick?” It would be hard to forget the fever. Many people died, and almost everyone else fell ill. I was one of the fortunate ones who recovered quickly. “You mended my shirt, and stitched a bear on it to help me feel better.”

  I laugh nervously. “I remember. You said it looked like a fleshie. I think that was the last time I was asked to help with the mending. I was terrible.”

  “I only said that because I was afraid, afraid you’d be able to tell how much I liked it. How much I liked you. I wore out that shirt years ago, but I kept the bear you stitched.” He puts a piece of fabric in my hand. “Here it is. I want you to take it, since I can’t go with you.” He speaks quickly now. “I wish I could’ve danced with you at the Solstice. I’d been planning to ask you all year, did you know?”

  My stomach clenches. “No, I didn’t.”

  “If the fleshies hadn’t come, would you have danced with me?”

  I don’t know how to answer him. The Summer Solstice feels like one of my dreams, not real life. Real life now is the Scourge, hunger and thirst, uncertainty. I can’t tell him the truth—that I’d chosen to ask a Lofty to dance. But the truth is I’ll never dance with a Lofty, because Groundlings and Lofties don’t dance together. Peree said so himself. So I say what Bear wants to hear.

  “Yes, I would have.”

  I’m totally unprepared when he pulls me to him and presses his mouth hard against mine. His cracked lips sweep across my forehead and cheeks, and he kisses my lips again, gently this time. Then he’s gone.

  I lean against the wall in the inky blackness, trying to catch my breath, and a hand clamps over my mouth.

  Chapter Seven

  The hand smothers my screams. I claw at it, then stop struggling a few seconds later when I realize large calluses sprawl over the ends of the fingers. Peree.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss.

  “I’m going with you,” he whispers.

  “What? How did you know I was going for sure?” What I really want to know is what he heard, and saw.

  “Aloe told Shrike, in confidence.”

  “I didn’t know you would be here–”

  “Clearly.” His voice is frosty.

  “Peree, Bear is an old friend.”

  “It’s none of my business,” he says. “We’d better get moving. Is this the passage we take?”

  “Yes, but–”

  A torch flames to life, and he strides away. I pull on my pack and run my fingers along the walls, hurrying to catch up with him. My insides, which weren’t doing very well to begin with, are completely tangled now.

  “Your Council let you come?” I ask.

  “No. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving.”

  I grab his arm. “Peree! You have to go back, you can’t come with me!”

  He shakes me off. “Why? Your friend back there won’t like it?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’ll be in terrible trouble when they find out!”

  “Not necessarily. You Groundlings aren’t the only ones who would benefit from finding another source of water.”

  I slow my steps. So he only came to find the Hidden Waters for the Lofties. It didn’t have anything to do with me.

  “And anyway, isn’t it my duty, as your Keeper?” His voice is a sneer.

  His duty. That isn’t any better. Anger at his attitude, and shame that he saw me kissing Bear, get the best of my temper. “Feel free to go back if you’re going to act like this. It’s not like I asked for your help.”

  “How could I resist such gratitude?”

  “Why are you being such a boar’s back end?” I yell.

  “Why can’t you just say you’re happy I’m here?” he yells back.

  “Fine! I’m happy you’re here!”

  It takes a minute, but we both snort with laughter.

  “A boar’s back end? Really?” he says.

  “That’s sort of the milder form of the insult. Lofties don’t say that one?”

  “No, we call people other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, uh, bird-waste-for-brains.”

  We both laugh again, then walk o
n. Things aren’t completely right between us, but the tension is broken. Somehow in the span of five minutes everything changed. I was kissed for the first time, and the last person I would want to know about it was watching. I went from searching for the Waters alone, to being accompanied by the person I would choose above all others—when he’s not acting like the back end of a boar, that is.

  We enter a cavern smaller than the enormous space we use as shelter when the Scourge comes, but still expansive. The sounds of our movements reverberate far in front of us, and well above our heads. Peree whistles softly.

  “What?” I ask.

  “The size of this place, and the strange formations.” I forgot he’s never been in the caves before.

  “I’ve heard they’re beautiful,” I say, not bothering to hide the envy in my voice. I take a few cautious steps in, arms outstretched, feeling for the columns and curtains of rock I know are there. I find a pillar and walk around it, smoothing the cool surface with my hand.

  “They’re unbelievable,” he says, “like drops of rain frozen while falling. Others splash up from the ground, or fan out like a palm frond. Some are bright white. Some have colors shot through them. You heard right: they’re beautiful.”

  No one ever described the formations to me before. I can’t picture them, but I know what falling rain and palm fronds feel like, and it adds depth and dimension to the rock beneath my hand. I make my way through the space to the other side of the cavern, sweeping my arms in front of me, as he looks around. I’m trying to find the passage on the other side.

  Peree comes toward me, pausing a few feet away. “Will you let me help you if I offer, or bite my head off, like in the forest?” His voice is still chilly, but I hear a note of teasing behind his words.

  “Ask me and find out.”

  He takes my hand. “May I be of assistance?”

  “Yes, please.”

  As I would with Eland, I automatically slide my hand up to grip his arm more securely in case I stumble. He tenses. Embarrassed, I keep my hand still. He guides me in silence into the next passage, then walks away.

  I grope around in my pack for the pouch of crampberries and pull it out. Holding my breath, I crush a few and rub them on the stony wall to mark the entrance.