by Kate L. Mary
“There is another way into the city?” Bodhi’s voice was higher than usual, and his blue eyes bright. As if this news was a gift that had been given to him. “A back way?”
Adina nodded slowly, but her narrowed eyes told me that she was as concerned by his interest as I was. “It is nothing you should ever consider, Bodhi. If the Sovereign are willing to kill their own babies, what do you think they would do to an intruder? Especially an Outlier.”
“I was not thinking of going there myself,” Bodhi said, but his tone was neither convincing nor comforting.
Adina’s gaze moved to me, and I could see the warning in it. Like Bodhi, she had never set foot inside the city—at least that I knew of—but she was well aware of what happened inside the walls because she was our village healer. I had gone to her after Lysander cornered me in the pantry, and I was not alone in that. I knew what she was warning me about, knew that she was telling me to be careful what I told Bodhi, but her concern was unnecessary. Even before this conversation, I told my husband very little about the city, and now I was more certain than ever that I had been right to keep things from him. It was no longer just about keeping him from sharing my pain. It was about keeping him alive.
13
Bodhi was quiet after we left the village. He walked a step ahead of me, his right hand clutching mine, and a torch in his other. The light from the fire flickered off the naked branches above our heads and highlighted the ruins from the old world that occasionally jutted up, poking their skeletal remains through the long dead leaves and snow packed on the ground. The remnants of that world were nothing more than rusted shells and stone lumps that were impossible to identify. There was very little left of the past in the wilds, and even less in the wastelands, but what did exist was a total mystery to me. To all of us, probably.
Everything we knew about the people who had once lived on this land had been passed down through word of mouth over the years. In Sovereign City they had books, their pages containing lines and lines of symbols I could not decipher and would most likely be unable to comprehend even if I could, but I had no way of knowing if the stories in those books were the same ones I had grown up hearing.
The Outliers spoke of a world that had at one time been overcrowded, yet fertile. The people of the past had lived close together like the Sovereign, packed into cities and numbering more than the stars in the sky. Electricity was everywhere, and the technology the Sovereign possessed paled in comparison to what it had been back then. These things had made life easier, but legend told us that it had also led to the destruction of their world.
They had fought with one another, all these cities that were now buried under dust. What they had fought over none of us knew for certain, but we did know that it had not only destroyed them, but had also left the earth barren and dry. Their wars had changed the ground we now stood on, poisoning it for future generations. Decades went by before the land had healed enough to allow the wilds to sprout up, but by then the Sovereign had already built their city in the wastelands. The people outside the walls, the ones who had been left to fend for themselves, had split into groups and done what they could to survive. Some had remained close to the city, depending on the generosity of those inside to keep them alive, while others had struck out and settled in the wilds. The greenery had given them hope that things would get better, but still the land had not healed itself completely, and so they waited.
Time passed and very little changed. The wastelands were still more immense than any other part of our world, stretching on as far as the eye could see in most directions. The land the Outliers lived on was green, but the soil still yielded poor crops. The Sovereign still hid behind their walls while the rest of us served them. This had been the order of things for centuries, and would no doubt remain the same for centuries to come.
By the time Bodhi and I reached a rocky part of the forest, the sky was nearly black. Here the rocks jutted up and widened into a stony mass that was not tall enough to be called a mountain, but was much too big to simply be a hill. It was here that Bodhi stopped and turned to face me for the first time since leaving the village.
“This is it.”
When he smiled it seemed to take a lot of effort, and I hated how hard he had to work to appear happy. Hated that what Adina had told us sat so heavy on him. Not just because it hurt me to see him in pain, but also because it was proof that he knew more about what went on inside the city than I suspected. Bodhi was good at hiding it, but he had done so because there was nothing he could do to change the way things were. Now that he knew there was another way into the city, it seemed like he was reflecting on everything more. Like he might be considering what he could do to even the score.
“You brought me to a giant rock?” I asked with a smile of my own, hoping to bring back the easy grin I was used to seeing on my husband’s face.
Some of the lightheartedness returned to his expression when he said, “No. I brought you to my secret hideout.”
I looked from him to the rock at our side, but saw nothing that looked like a hideout.
As a child I had gone out into the woods with Bodhi often, but years had passed since I had ventured into the forest, and even back then we had never wandered far. The Outliers were not like the Sovereign. The women were not rulers, and we did not see ourselves as indestructible. Inside the city Saffron could bark an order and it would be carried out in the blink of an eye, but in the wild world beyond those walls, the Fortis would never bow to a woman’s command. It was much too common for Outlier women to be attacked if they ventured too far from their villages. Bodhi had been around to protect me when I was younger, but I had seen women brought in, dead or wishing they were, and I had always been too afraid to go very far. Even with him.
Before I could ask what he had meant about a hideout, Bodhi took my hand and pulled me closer to the rocky hill at his side. When we were next to it he released my hand and held the torch out for me to take. Then he moved a mass of vines and branches aside, revealing a hole in the rocks.
“A cave?”
I ducked lower so I could get a look inside. The hole was small, wide enough that we would be able to pass through but so low that we would need to duck to get in. Thanks to the light from the torch, I could tell that it went deep and opened up inside.
“Yes,” Bodhi replied from behind me. “And tomorrow I will teach you how to shoot a bow.”
When I glanced back at him, I had no doubt that my eyes were shimmering with surprise. “Winta women do not hunt.”
“I want you to be prepared in case something happens to me.”
I stood up straight and turned to face my husband, the cave in front of me forgotten. “What are you saying?”
He did not blink when he said, “Just that life in the wilds is hard and things happen. It is unfair that women are left to fend for themselves but given no skills to do it.”
“The village helps them,” I argued even though I agreed with him.
When my father died, we were forced to accept the leftover meat from other families in the village. Families who still had a man to go out into the woods to hunt. I remember eating the meat of a forest cat, tough with fat, and wishing I was allowed to venture into the woods to find food the way the men in the village were. At the same time, however, I never would have done it even if I had been allowed. I was a woman, which meant that I was too weak and small to protect myself from the animals, let alone a Fortis hunter if I happened upon one.
“I believe women are capable of helping themselves and I want to make sure you are able to.” Bodhi took the torch from my hand and nodded to the cave. “Now, follow me.”
He moved forward, keeping both the flame and his head low as he ducked through the hole in front of us. He shuffled through at a crouch that looked both practiced and proficient while I crawled in behind him on my hands and knees. Once we were inside, the room opened up so that the ceiling towered over our heads, making it possible for me to stand. It w
as bigger than any of the huts in our village, and the openings at the back told me this was only one of many rooms.
“What do you think?” Bodhi asked as he moved forward.
“Amazing,” I said in awe.
He knelt in front of a pile of wood, and I watched as he used the torch to start a fire, which took no time at all.
“Will it fill the cave with smoke?”
Bodhi grinned up at me from where he knelt by the now crackling fire. “There are a few holes in the rocks here, see.” He pointed to the sloped ceiling over his head. “I have to make sure they do not get clogged when the leaves fall off the trees in the fall, but as long as I keep the holes free of debris they do a good job of venting the smoke.”
Once he was certain that the fire would not go out, he crossed the cave yet again. On the other side he had mounds of animal fur stored in a crevice, and more wood piled up so he could keep the fire going.
Bodhi spread the fur out near, but not too close, to the fire and then settled back. When he patted the fur at his side, I went over to join him on the ground, snuggling up next to him.
“Why have you never brought me here before?”
“I wanted to wait until we were married. That way it could be our special place.”
I looked up from where my head was resting against his chest, peering at him through my eyelashes, and found his blue eyes trained on me.
“You were always sure I would eventually marry you?” I whispered.
He pressed his lips against my forehead, right over the passage markings that still throbbed slightly. “I never had a doubt.”
I laughed and scooted closer so he could wrap me in his warm embrace. We sat in silence, staring at the fire. Enjoying this quiet moment together. Before long my thoughts were once again on the things Adina had told us. Talking about it felt like fanning the flames of whatever thoughts Bodhi had swirling through his head, but I was afraid that not discussing it would only give those ideas time to stew.
Finally, I broke the silence by whispering, “I want you to promise that you will never try to sneak into the city. No matter what happens.”
“Indra,” he began.
I cut him off by sitting up so I could look him in the eye, and what I saw there terrified me. So much pain. More than I had ever seen before. Where had it come from? What had happened to cause him to hurt this much?
“I am serious, Bodhi.” He started to look away, but I took his face between my hands and forced his eyes to stay on mine. “If they catch you, they will kill you. Do you understand that? Do you understand what that would do to me?”
“What about me?” he whispered. “You have no idea what it does to me, knowing all the things you have been through, but being unable to do anything about it.”
Tears filled my eyes at the knowledge that he was hurting, but the pain I knew I would feel if something were to happen to him overshadowed it. “And you think dying would be doing something?”
Bodhi tried to turn his head again, but I refused to let him. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a deep breath. “I might not die.”
“Bodhi—”
His name came out as a strangled gasp, and even if I could have managed to utter another word, there would have been no time before he said, “I was there, Indra, I saw you.”
My heartbeat thudded against my temples, making it impossible to understand what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“Three years ago, right after you started working in the city, I was waiting for you to get back from work. I was at the front of the village at first, but then Anja asked me to help her carry some wood to your hut. I was on my way back when I saw you outside Adina’s hut. You were shaking. Even from a distance I could tell. I know you so well—know all your emotions and reactions—and I knew right away that something bad had happened. I was about to call out to you when Adina opened her door, and when you saw her, you started crying.”
Bodhi finally managed to turn his face away, but my hands did not drop to my sides. They stayed suspended in the air as if I had forgotten how to use my arms. I had never heard this. Had not known that he had been present to witness my shame, and I hated it.
He was still looking away when he started talking again. “I have known all this time what happened, but I could never talk to you about it because I knew you would never want me to. It has almost killed me at times, thinking about what you went through. Thinking about—”
His voice broke, and when he squeezed his eyes shut, a tear rolled down his cheek. Years had passed since the last time I saw Bodhi cry. We had been young then, only seven years old, and he had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm. Seeing the tears in his eyes now nearly broke me the same way his arm had broken that day.
“Bodhi,” I whispered. I found myself moving closer, putting my arms around him. “Do not cry.” I kissed his cheek, and when his shoulders shook, my own tears spilled over. “There is nothing you could have done and I am okay. I promise.”
He cried harder, wrapping his arms around me and holding on like I was the only thing keeping him from floating away.
This was the very thing I had been trying to avoid, Bodhi taking on my pain. I had no desire to see him hurting because of what I had gone through, had no desire for him to think that he was somehow responsible for saving me when there was nothing that could be done. It was too much responsibility, and I knew that if he took it on, the weight of it would eventually kill him.
“Promise me,” I said between sobs. “Promise me that you will never try to go into the city. Promise.”
He nodded, possibly too choked up to get any words out, and I foolishly took it as agreement.
14
As an outlier working in the city, I got one day off every two weeks, and for my first one as Bodhi’s wife, I chose to spend the entire day with him. We slept in the cave, curled up on top of a pile of furs. Between the fire going at our side and the warmth of my husband’s body, there was no chance for a chill to sink into my bones, and even the hard floor of the cave was unable to keep me from snagging a good night’s sleep.
The scurry of feet in the dark recesses of the cave woke me in the morning. Sunshine streamed in through the holes Bodhi had pointed out the night before, and I had to turn my eyes away from the light. They were small, placed at a level that was both good for venting the smoke from the fire, but also would not allow too much water in if we had a rare night of rain.
I had only been awake for a moment when Bodhi turned to face me. His eyes were hazy with sleep and puffy from the night before, but the smile that lit up his face was closer to the expression I was used to seeing.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Every night that I am with you, I will sleep well.”
I snuggled against him and the sigh he let out seemed to sink into me.
“Good,” he said.
He kissed the top of my head before untangling himself and climbing to his feet. I was naked, so I pulled the fur up to my chin and watched as he built the fire back up. Bodhi was still undressed as well, and I expected him to worry about sparks, but he seemed unconcerned.
“Hungry?” he called over his shoulder, his focus on the fire in front of him.
“Of course.”
He looked back, shooting me a grin that lit up his face, and then pulled a leather pouch from his bag and tossed it my way. It was filled with dried fruit and meat, as well as a handful of nuts. Not much, especially for two people, but this was the way we lived and something we were both used to after a lifetime of struggle.
He came back and sat at my side, and together we ate, naked but warmed by the fire.
“What is beyond this room?” I asked, nodding to the other tunnels. “Have you explored more of the cave?”
“Some,” he replied, “but not much. A larger room sits just beyond the tunnel, but there is no light and no holes for ventilation. Further back are even more tunnels. I explored them once, but they seemed to g
o on forever and I realized that if my torch burned out I could get lost and die. It seemed too risky.”
I shivered and scooted closer. “Yes, it does.”
After we finished eating, we staunched out the fire and left the cave. Bodhi had his bow, as well as a smaller one for me, and even though his offer the night before had surprised me, I was looking forward to learning how to shoot. It was something I had done a handful of times when we were kids, but I had been forced to give up after my father’s death. At the time my mother worked in the city, and the responsibility of looking after Anja had fallen completely on my shoulders.
“Do you always hunt this far from the village?” I asked Bodhi as we moved away from the cave.
“Not always.” When he looked at me, his dimples were showing. “I like to stay close so I can be back by the time you get home.”
I squeezed his hand, remembering all the days over the years when he seemed to pop up the moment I returned from Sovereign City.
“Why are we out so far today?”
“I wanted to show you something. Remember?”
“I thought the cave was what you wanted to show me.”
“It was part of what I wanted to show you, but not all of it.” Bodhi pulled on my hand and walked faster up the slope of the hill in front of us. “Come on.”
The hill got steeper, rockier too, and more difficult to climb, but Bodhi clung to my hand as he went and it helped keep me on my feet. We seemed to walk forever, and I was just about to ask him once again where we were going when we reached the top and he stopped. I did as well, but the awe I felt at the sight made it impossible to speak at first.
Only a few feet in front of us, the hill we had worked so hard to climb ended in a cliff. It was impossible to tell how far down the drop was, but it was far enough that a fall from here would no doubt end in death. The cliff was not what made me freeze, although that was a sight to behold, it was what loomed in the distance. A city. Or the ruins of one, anyway.