Breeder: An Arrow's Flight Novel

by Casey Hays

  His eyes light up in the sun, and I’m in awe. Out here, they are bluer than the sky. He glances at his surroundings.

  “Where’s this village you’re always talking about?”

  “That way,” I point in the direction of the path. “It’s a short walk from here, hidden in the trees.”

  He nods. Moving closer, he cups my chin in his hands and turns my head for a better look at my wound. His expression turns grim.

  “That’s pretty bad, Kate. You better take care of it soon.”

  “I will.”

  His eyes meet mine.

  “I’m afraid for you,” he says. “You’re sure you won’t come with me?”

  I shake my head, but my eyes never leave his.

  “I can’t. It’s just— too many people I care about are here. I can’t leave them. Not when I have a chance to make things better if I stay. I’m beginning to see that it might be possible.”

  Ian lowers his eyes. I cover his hand with my own where it still cups my chin, so gentle in our parting moments.

  “Ian,” I whisper softly. “You must go.”

  He gazes at me, not heeding my warning, and the very air itself pauses to watch us. I’m mesmerized by the blue of his eyes—a picture of the ocean I’ve only seen in a book. I hold my breath, unable to turn away.

  And suddenly, he pulls me to him—tight against his chest. He presses his lips to mine. Shock flushes through me at first, my eyes wide with surprise. But slowly . . . I melt into a place I’ve never been: where Ian and I are the only residents, and no one else is permitted to set foot here. It is ours. I forget about all the pain, the fear, and my worries, as the warm, sweet taste of his kiss consumes me.

  He pulls away slowly. A trembling breath escapes between us. And I’m swimming in the ocean again.

  “I wish things had been different with us,” he says, pressing his lips into my hair. “We could have been good for each other.” I can’t help myself. I lean into his chest, longing for a few more minutes, a few seconds even, of him. “You were my water, Kate. I’ll miss drinking you in. I’m really sorry for, you know . . . . I didn’t always treat you so good.”

  I close my eyes, my heart severely catching through my breathing. Good-bye was not supposed to be so difficult—not with us. He wanted out. I made it happen. The end.

  But I can’t ignore one tiny part of the process. I have become everything to him over these past weeks. His companion, his hope, his only tie to a life outside that cell. And now the tie is unraveling with his departure. I’m acutely aware that it was the same for me. For weeks now, nearly every decision I’ve made included his safety, his welfare . . . him.

  “Ian—”

  A sudden noise on the path stops my words. I turn with a leap of fear, but it’s only Mia, although she races toward us, frantically waving her arms.

  “Kate!” she screams. “They’re coming! Hurry! We have to hide.”

  My heart thumps erratically. I push Ian toward the forest that will take him over the mountain. “Go! Please, go now!”

  Our eyes lock one last time. He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me. And with a final glance, he bolts toward the trees.

  I watch him disappear into the green and brown tangles of branches and leaves. And he’s gone.

  “Kate!”

  Mia’s shouts bring me back. She tugs me hurriedly in the opposite direction. Away from Ian forever.

  Chapter 17

  “How is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God.” 1 Peter 2:20

  Mia scrambles for a patch of bushes, pulling me in behind her. We both pant heavily, and my muscles are tense. The aches in my body flare to life again, reminding me of my recent encounter with Mona, and my nerves jolt in response. I’m so exhausted. I’m not ready for another confrontation with her. I scan the trees anxiously.

  “How far back are they?”

  “Just at the first bend.” Fear stares at me from Mia’s round eyes. “They have ropes,” she whispers.

  I clutch my throat, try to calm my beating heart as it flutters with the awful realization that if we’d waited one minute longer—just one—he may not have escaped. I toss a wary glance toward the forest.

  “I hope they don’t catch him,” I whisper, my eyes frantically searching the area. He’s still out there, still close. He’s not safe yet.

  I can feel Mia’s eyes on me, and I meet her gaze.

  “It really means a lot to you to save him, doesn’t it?”

  I see something in her for the first time, faint, but there all the same. A glimmer of understanding.

  “Yes. It does,” I say.

  She nods and looks toward the path again.

  “You’re risking so much for him.”

  I shrug. “I suppose.”

  Silence follows. I watch the trees, hopeful that Ian is at least over the first ridge of the mountains, and if so, that he can find a place to hide.

  “Does he always look at you that way?”

  Mia’s question surprises me. I turn.

  “What way?”

  She faces me.

  “As if he’s never seen anything better in his life.”

  I crease my brows. Does he? Ian and I spent so much time trying to adjust to each other, and trying to plan and plot and scheme his way out of the cave that I never noticed one way or the other how he looked at me. I think back, trying to recollect even a hint of what Mia means, but all I can see is the bluest of all blue staring back at me.

  “I—I don’t know. I’ve never noticed,” I answer.

  She shakes her head softly. “You should have paid attention.”

  Our eyes lock, she smiles, and for the first time in a long while, we share a moment. But voices fill the morning air, breaking the connection, and we shrink down further behind the bushes. I crane my neck to see.

  Mona appears first followed by a small crowd, mostly Council members. She carries several feet of a long rope looped over one shoulder. Tara walks close behind her, a spike in each hand. Her expression is as hard and cruel as it was the day she took so much pleasure in making a whipping post out of my back. I’m beginning to think she can’t smile anymore. Her face has frozen into a stone scowl.

  The group marches purposefully along. A few of them smile and chat, however, and this strikes me as extremely cruel. They will execute Ian without a thought, wipe their consciences clean of the filthy deed, and return to their easy lives. A death. An unmarked grave. A dusting off of dirty hands. All in a day’s work. It disgusts me.

  At Mona’s command, one of them heaves the ladder over the edge, and one by one, they disappear like ants returning to the hill. Mia springs to her feet.

  “Come. If we get back before they realize he’s gone, they won’t be able to blame you.”

  She bounds for the path, and I limp after her. I ache from head to toe, but gratefully, I’m no longer dizzy. It doesn’t take us long to reach the outskirts of the Village. A few signs of life are noticeable as the women begin their daily routines. If we keep to the path, we risk being seen. I halt.

  “Mia!” I whisper as loudly at I can. She turns.

  Understanding, she nods and searches the border of the Village. My mind reels, formulating a plan.

  “The only option is cutting through the backwoods behind my hogan. But you won’t be able to get to yours. And we’ll still have to get inside without anyone seeing us.”

  “It’s better than nothing,” she shrugs.

  We leave the path and move toward the woods that outline the Village. The dense underbrush scratches angrily at our legs and faces, but we press on.

  I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until we’ve skirted the outside wall of my hogan and made it safely inside. And we’re a mess, too. Mud cakes our feet; our skirts are ripped and dirty. If anyone sees us now, they’ll think we’ve hiked across the mountains and
back.

  We clean ourselves and replace our clothes with fresh ones from my basket. All of my shoes are too small for Mia, and hers are filthy with mud. She will have to go barefoot, but this won’t raise much suspicion. Many of the women choose to go barefoot in the Village most of the time.

  I examine the ugly head wound now crusted over with blood that mats my hair. It’s not pretty. Mia helps me pour water over my head, dabs the gash with prunella and uses the salve the doctor left behind to dress it while I try hard not to flinch or vomit. I also vow not get beaten up today if I can help it. But my chances are slim indeed.

  Mia wraps long cloths tightly around my body to hold my aching ribs in place. I suck in a deep and painful breath as the pressure surges through me. The entire time, we say nothing.

  Outside, the Village is buzzing. We make our way to the community fire-pit where several of the women gather around a bubbling pot for breakfast. I nod at an older woman, Marabelle, who answers with a wave of her gnarly claw of a hand. Her eyes, misty with age, peer at me from leathered and wrinkled skin. Marabelle used to be a hunter. Legend tells she was the best in her day, which, they say, is the sole reason Mona has not disposed of the “useless old woman.” Most are not so fortunate.

  I scoop a bowl of porridge for Mia and then for myself. We pour warm molasses into our bowls and huddle together away from the group. I don’t have much of an appetite, but I eat anyway. Unpredictability floats on the air, and I’ll need my strength.

  If I’m fortunate, Mona will suspect nothing. I laugh to myself, but it’s loud enough for Mia to flick warning eyes at me.

  I am rarely fortunate.

  I wonder where Ian is now, and I think of the hammer—the one we forgot to put back in the wood shed in our haste.

  I sigh. Mona will most definitely know.

  Soon a rustling of whispers begins making its way through the Village. My ears perk up.

  “Mona is coming!”

  “They’ve been to the Pit. Something’s happened.”

  “What could have happened already this early in the morning?”

  I try to stop the trembling that begins to overtake me, but it’s a losing battle. Beside me, Mia sits very still. Her hand falls lightly on my knee to settle my shaking. I take a deep breath.

  Mona’s eyes are full of a kind of fury that, surprisingly, I’ve not seen before. After every encounter I’ve had with Mona’s angrier side, I can honestly say this is a new extreme. And a new kind of fear climbs my spine and hangs over my shoulder smirking with delight at its control over me. My stomach turns inside out, and Mona just moves closer and closer.

  She stops dead in the center of the crowd of women.

  “Where is Kate?”

  Several gasps of relief and more whispering circle the area. The women understand now. Kate. Me. I’m once again the target of Mona’s rage. Inevitably.

  Each and every eye around the fire pit settles on my face. I meet their gazes—their blank, unfeeling stares. Don’t show emotion. This is what they’re thinking. To show emotion toward me is to defy Mona. And no one dares defy Mona.

  Except me.

  I clear my throat, gather my courage, and stand.

  “What is it, Mona?” I do my best to hide my trembling.

  Mona purses her lips. Her jaw flexes as she clenches her teeth. She weaves her way through the other women until she’s standing just feet from me. The rest of the Council lurks in the background, all eleven of them—each one chosen for a different sign: the Crab, the Bear, the Virgin—patiently waiting for their orders. Don’t they have minds of their own? Just once, I’d like to hear one of the other members say something. Anything!

  “Where is he?”

  Mona’s voice is low and calm, but her eyes tell the truth. There are no flames in them, not this time. Instead, I see a cold fury that chills me even from where she stands feet away, and for a moment, I think I’ve had my first experience with ice. We stand frozen a beat longer.

  “Who?” I finally say.

  Mona inhales, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t play games with me. You know very well who I mean. What have you done with him?”

  Silence. Staring eyes. I swallow, trembling. I should be accustomed to humiliation by now, but I am not, and I dread it. I dread what kind of methods Mona will use to tear me down while all the women watch in silence. I am sad for my people who believe there is no other recourse in dealing with Mona but strict obedience. But what if Mona is wrong? What if her way of leading the Village does more harm than good. Is it wrong to defy her then?

  I remember a promise I made to myself to never give Mona the satisfaction of winning again, and an anger twists its way into my heart and pushes aside my fear. And my eyes turn as cold as hers.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I say, slowly and calculated. “I have been here all morning. And besides, how could I have left? I did hit my head on something hard last night. I believe it was your fist.”

  Mia gasps. And once again, I detect the foreign quality in my voice—as if it is not me speaking at all. It’s too full of cool confidence. Mona’s eyes glint. She chooses to ignore my last comment.

  “I see you will be of no help to us. Not with words anyway. But you might be of use still.”

  In a flash, she yanks my hands upward. The bowl of porridge clatters to the ground and rolls away. Mona wraps the end of the rope around my wrists, tying them together so that my palms are flat against each other. She pulls the rope into a tight knot. It hurts, but I smile, despite it. I’ve irritated her like a piece of sand in the eye. Good.

  I don’t know what Mona has in store this time, but I think of Ian free of the Pit, and I am not afraid. The wide, knowing stares of the women watching give me courage. I smile at one woman. Her name is Eva. She’s a gardener, and her fingernails are caked underneath with the earth. Her eyes widen, and she turns quickly away. So much fear. Not me. Not anymore. Ian is safe, and for the moment, even in the ropes, I feel free. Rebellion does that to you. It makes you bold about the cause before you’ve won. It plays tricks on your mind that give you hope.

  A few years ago, before Mona ordered the library off-limits to everyone but the teachers, I read about a man named William Wallace. He was a Scottish hero who fought against injustice long ago. He was bold, and his defiance killed him. But I also read that his death led to his people’s freedom. I don’t believe I’m much like William Wallace, except in defiance—and possibly in death. But for him, it was worth the sacrifice. Perhaps it will be for me as well.

  Mona tosses the end of the rope to Tara, who expertly catches it with one hand and twists it twice around her fist. The women gape at me, and I cannot see a hint in one of them of admiration toward me. Perhaps Diana had been wrong after all, and I am merely a spectacle rather than a hero. This is what I’ve decided to call myself—a spectacle. But it feels good to be one. I raise my shoulders a bit higher. No one says a word. I glance at Mia who watches with fear. Her eyes make me waver a little, so I look away.

  Mona moves in the direction of her cabin, the Council at her heels. Tara jerks on the rope, and I stumble on behind them. Mia wrings her hands. Tara yanks again. I trip, barely managing to keep my feet under me.

  To the left of Mona’s cabin is a large elm tree. It’s been here for longer than even Mona has been alive, and this is where they take me. Tara yanks again, hard enough that I crash into the huge trunk. The bark leaves an ugly, scratchy bite on my cheek, and my aching ribs vibrate with a new pain. She shoves me by my shoulders into a sitting position, and she walks circles around the tree, wrapping the rope several times. She takes the loose end and ties it in with the knot already at my wrists, forming another tight knot. I look at it helplessly. She’s left me only a foot of rope for movement, and absolutely no chance of escaping the expertly tied knots. I glare at her as she checks her work one last time, eyes never meeting mine.

  The Council watches with blank expressions. No one looks at me—except Anna Maria. Old Anna Maria,
who has also been afforded a long time due to her wisdom, and who can do nothing to help me despite it.

  Mona raises her hand to smooth my hair. I knock it away with my elbow. She chuckles.

  “The dog is a long way from home, and the woods are dense. If he doesn’t die out there, he’ll be back, and you’ll be waiting. Here.”

  I stare coldly, and I know exactly what Mona has in mind. I’m the bait. He’s the prey. Furious, I kick at her. I ignore the rope burns that leave red stripes on my wrists and kick again. Mona laughs, and most of the Council snickers. I tug. The rope bites again, deeper this time.

  “Why can’t you just let him go?” I yell, ignoring the pain.

  Mona crosses her arms over her waist and cocks her head to one side.

  “This wasn’t the plan, Kate. You were never supposed to develop feelings for him. He has the right look, and the two of you would have given us a good supply of strong children. Good quality, both male and female, for the next generation.” She leans in close. “How was that coming along?”

  I say nothing. Mona takes my silence for what it is. A confession.

  “Ah, I have my answer. Shame on you, Kate. You have defied a direct order. Fate will not look kindly upon you.”

  “Why don’t we just kill her and be done with it?” Tara’s hard, raspy voice rings out among the Council members. “She’s given us nothing but grief since she came of age. Breeders like her will not be tamed. Remember Meg, Mona? We cannot let the same thing repeat itself.”

  Mona spins. “Kate will not die! Not yet.” Her fists clench. Her eyes pass over the entire Council one by one. “That is a direct order. Until this boy is found, no one will touch her.”

  I raise my brows. Why is she so determined to keep me alive? What is she afraid of? Is she such a servant to Fate that she wouldn’t defy it even to rid herself of a troublemaker like me? Has she so solidly determined that Fate has chosen me to be her successor? I’m not so convinced that Fate has anything to do with it.

  She runs her hands down the front of her leather skirt, smoothing it out along with her anger. Her voice is more even when she speaks.