by Casey Hays
In a way, he saved my life.
Mia stands and makes her way down to the river. She wades in to her ankles and stares across the wide expanse to the other side, deep in thought. I roll onto my stomach and tug at the grass just for something to do.
“I see a difference in my mate,” Diana suddenly confesses, and I reel back in slight shock. She shrugs and runs a hand down Tabitha’s back. “I don’t—love him. But, I see more in him than mere stock. He’s a person. He has feelings and . . . he can think for himself. He is not ignorant.”
“You talk to him?”
She nods. “Sometimes. Very little, but enough to know that he views himself as nothing more than an animal.” She looks straight at me “I think he’s wrong.”
She ignites a curious thought in me. I wonder if other breeders feel this way. Do any of them see their mates as more than a means to an end? I know not all of them could. Mia, for one, sees only a dog when she looks at her mate. But perhaps . . . .
“And what about you, Kate?”
I turn at Diana’s question. Her eyes twinkle playfully. “Do you know about love?”
I blush, and Diana laughs. My eyes follow the trees as far as they can. Is Ian still out there hiding? Waiting for another chance to come for me? Part of me almost hopes so. It would make it easier to answer Diana’s question. I shrug.
“I think I might get what you meant about how I’ve never held my own child in my arms so I couldn’t understand love.” My eyes wander toward Tabitha now sleeping on the blanket beside Diana. “Once you’ve held someone close to your heart, you begin to understand what it means to give everything you have to make sure he’s safe. No matter the cost. That’s what I feel.”
“Then why aren’t you with him?”
I raise my eyes.
And there’s the dilemma: Choose Ian or choose the Village. Run away with him to his paradise city and forget my life here, or bear up under the whip until the day comes when I have the means to change it all.
It wasn’t an easy choice, but I’ve made it. I want my village to be an Eden. No matter the cost, I want this village to be a place where people have choices. Where Diana can raise her little girl herself, and where I am free to choose Ian because I want to and not because I’m forced. A place where Mia can fall in love and where nobody will ever have to die again the way Layla did. The way Meg did. When I am leader, I’ll make a better way.
“I have my reasons,” I finally say, nodding decidedly at Diana.
But I have to admit, after tasting Ian’s kisses, it’s much more difficult to be content with the choice I’ve made.
Chapter 20
“Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. As a dream comes when there are many cares, so the speech of a fool when there are many words.” Ecclesiastes 5:2-3
I watch Diana and Mia make their way down the path that leads to the Pit with a sinking feeling in my stomach. At the bend, Mia waves, and they disappear out of sight. I don’t go with them because I have no reason. I turn away and take the path back to the Village. And I am sad for them.
All my life, I’ve viewed the Pit like a mouth waiting to swallow me up when the time came as it swallowed up my friends before me: Mia and Diana, Layla and Meg. One by one they slid down its throat and slipped into a life designed for them by the stars. A life designed for all of us. Breeder—where our bodies are not our own and our children have no hope of escaping the vicious cycle. I want it to end, even if I am the only one.
The fact that I’ve escaped my duty so far is more than likely a fleeting prospect. I know the ultimate result expected of all breeders each time they travel this path. And even as my heart speaks to me in soft, rebellious whispers, I know the expectation is no different for me, and I hate it.
The Pit gapes still, wide and savage in the core of my soul: the place where we all must leave off who we want to be and give in to what we are. I have not escaped it, and if I allow it, my mind replays the scene. It’s my birthday again, and I sit on a throne filled up with fear. I’m dragged to the Pit, forced down the ladder, locked in a cave, and then . . . .
And then . . . .
Ian.
And suddenly, the Pit holds something else for me: a place of friendship with a scared boy in a tiny cave, a recollection of blue eyes above a straight, white smile, and shared whispers in the darkness; the pulsing heartbeat of fingers entwined. The Pit is no longer ominous because my memories create a level of comfort that shouldn’t be.
This disturbs me. It makes the Pit seem less abrasive somehow. But Ian is an unforgettable piece of it, and I can’t bring myself to view the Pit with the contempt it deserves. And I wish with all my heart that I could gain back the full repulsion.
I’m surprised to find Mona standing in my doorway when I reach my hogan. We haven’t spoken since she cut me free from the elm, and I’ve been hoping she’d forgotten me. But wishful thinking never gets me anywhere with Mona.
“Good morning, Kate.” Her smile is warm and friendly, and I raise my guard instantly. I recognize the sickly sweet tone and brace myself for the blow.
“I have news for you. The Council has made a decision about your future.”
“Oh?” I deliberately fill my voice with sarcasm, but what I feel is dread –the same dread I feel every time Mona comes to my hogan. I tap my foot nervously. “And what might that be?”
“We have assigned your new mate.”
I go completely still.
“He’s not anything like your last mate.” Her hands, as usual, are clasped familiarly behind her back. “He’s far less intelligent. I am not as pleased with him, but he was our second choice. He will do, I suppose . . . at least until we can find something better. You will go to him by the end of the day.” She pauses. “Of course, the result of your mating won’t be what I had hoped, which is a shame.”
I’ve stopped listening. I see myself walking toward the Pit, descending the ladder, moving toward a cave with an unfamiliar face. My heartbeat speeds into a panic. I focus on Mona.
“I don’t want to,” I say, shakily.
Mona’s jaw twitches. She clenches her fists, relaxes them.
“As usual, I don’t care. Your fate was determined the day you were born. And you were born a breeder, Kate. Face it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe in Fate. Circumstances can change. Mine did the moment Ian escaped.”
Mona clucks her tongue loudly.
“You just don’t see it, do you? Your fate did not change, only the course of how your same fate would play out. You are a breeder, and you will go to your mate today. Do not defy me again.”
I stare at her. I’m fairly certain I’ll not survive another beating, so I nod, but with all the cool defiance I can muster through my rising apprehension.
“Good,” Mona gives me a tense smile. “I expect much from you, Kate. You can expect me to check in with you from time to time. Don’t disappoint.”
She leaves me standing numbly in front of my hogan.
>--->
I walk the path alone, tears smarting my eyes. I’ve known this was coming, and I am not surprised, but I can’t deny that I’ve been hoping beyond all possibilities that Mona would change her mind and give me another role. It has been my wish since the moment she cut me loose from the tree.
I shake my head now in resignation. What a foolish wish. Mona doesn’t change her mind. Fate doesn’t change its mind.
And so I go to the Pit, but not with my heart. Never with my heart.
Each woman does her duty, asks no questions, and complies to Mona’s will. And even if they are compelled to, no one is brave enough to take a stand. Not even me. Not really. I try, I pay for it, and I cower under Mona’s gripping dominance and follow her orders anyway. I’ve proven myself a constant example of what happens to anyone who opposes the leader of the Council. And I’ve proven that I, too, bend to h
er will.
In this regard, the Pit looms ahead for all of us one way or the other.
My feet carry me to a new assignment—a different boy in a different cave. What will happen when I refuse this time? Will I die for sure? Will Mona be finished with me and disregard Fate to be rid of me once and for all?
I will refuse—make no mistake—but this time, I’m motivated by much more than my selfish rebellion.
It’s Ian I think of as I take to the top rung of the ladder. He’s the one I should be meeting in a dark cave. Even as my feet mechanically move me toward the bottom of the Pit, I feel as if I’m betraying him. It’s a ridiculous thought, but it’s a true feeling. It’s always been Ian in the Pit.
Many things are wrapped up in Ian. We were thrown together and left to sort out our highly charged emotions. We experienced fear, sadness, joy, and anger in a short period of time. And no one could understand the messy mix of feelings roiling around inside me except him.
And he is the only one I care to meet in the Pit.
I reach the bottom of the ladder where a jailer waits.
“Mona said you would be coming,” she grunts. “Come on then, girl. I’ll show you to the cell.”
My heart thuds with the same anticipation I felt the first time as the jailer opens the bamboo gate and motions for me to step in. This time, no crazed maniac from the stock charges out of the cell. No one is bent on escape. I step inside.
I’m close enough to the gate to feel it shudder against my back when the jailer slams it. Over my shoulder, I watch her retreat. My heart beats faster.
I don’t know what I should expect with a male from the stock, and I search for him until my eyes adjust to the sudden dimness, and I see him.
He stands in the middle of the cave, watching me. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a hard-set jaw line. I see the whites of his unblinking eyes. I can read nothing in them as he stares at me blankly. He’s dressed in cut-off pants and a vest, similar to what Ian had been given to wear. I raise my hand.
“Hello.”
He only stares. I begin to sweat. I rub my palms together, take two tentative steps toward him.
“I’m Kate. What’s your name?”
He tilts his head, still not blinking. I lick my dry lips.
“Your name?” I repeat.
His head automatically tilts the other way, and he slowly shakes it.
“Can you speak?”
His eyes change drastically, and he leans forward and opens his mouth. I gasp, and my hands fly up to cover my face.
His tongue is gone, cut out severely. All that remains is a stumpy mass of leftover flesh. Astonished, I step backwards and trip over an empty bowl, flailing to keep my balance. I catch myself against the closest wall. My eyes must reflect everything I feel, because sadness flickers across his face, and he lowers his head.
The cave walls seem to close in on us. I swallow the lump rising in my throat.
The male is completely still, his large hands hanging limply at his sides, and as I stare back at him, I’m filled with pity. I also know I don’t need to be afraid of him. I read this in his body language, his expression. I push away from the wall.
“What happened to you?”
He’s silent, and he shakes his head again. Of course, he can’t tell me. I reach a tentative hand his way.
“I—I didn’t mean to react that way. You just—you startled me.”
When he doesn’t move, I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Am I your first, um, mate?”
He shakes his head, then raises his fist and spreads his fingers. Five.
“Then . . . I am your sixth?”
He nods, pulls off his vest and lets it drop to the floor of the cave. When he pulls the string on his pants, I realize his intention. A surge of panic hits me in the gut.
“No don’t!” I raise my hands. “Put your shirt back on. Please. Let’s—let’s get to know one another first.”
He raises an eyebrow in confusion, but he shrugs and reaches down to pick up his shirt. I wheeze a sigh of relief.
Tentatively, he offers his mat with a gesture of his hand, and I comply and ease down on a corner of it. My eyes wander the small cave. It looks exactly like Ian’s, right down to this thin mat and the hole in the corner. The smells, the familiar shadows, the quiet whistle when the breeze blows between the bamboo—it’s all the same . . . minus Ian. I glance at the male.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
He holds up two fingers. Two years. He’s eighteen.
We stare at each other for another minute. It grows awkward in the silence. My eyes roam over him. He’s one of the stock—a real mate—not like Ian.
It doesn’t matter to me, of course. I won’t be turning breeder today. My eyes scan the cave nervously and settle on him. He’s massively thick, and this makes me feel so small, as if he could break one of my bones with a single touch.
“You’re eighteen?” I ask after a minute, just for something to say.
He shakes his head, leans over, and draws a “nineteen” in the dirt. I look at him puzzled.
“You didn’t come here when you were sixteen?”
He shakes his head again. I take in an uneasy breath and stare at him. A dangerous theory begins formulating in my mind. If he didn’t come here at sixteen, perhaps Mona took him from somewhere else. It’s not impossible. She’s done this at least twice before to my knowledge, once for me. I raise my eyes and lean in confidentially.
“Are you from this Village?” I whisper.
His eyes widen in surprise, but he nods slowly.
“You were raised in our nursery?” I ask just to be certain.
He nods again, but his eyes shift as if he’s deciding whether or not he should share something else. He stands very still and analyzes me, weighing the level of trust between us. I do the same.
“I know there are other villages,” I say cautiously. “So if you ever want to say more, I won’t mind.”
He doesn’t move a muscle, but I see a flicker of knowledge cross his face that makes me certain he’s experienced a life outside the Village. I’ve only known him for a few minutes, and still, it’s as evident as the fresh breeze that kicks up the dust near the gate. He may have been raised in the nursery, but he knows something of the outside world. And something—or someone—took away his ability to tell about it.
He breaks his gaze and turns away, and I see he’ll be sharing nothing with me today. Of course, we’ve only just met. In time, I will get him to open up. Because I’m beginning to realize that with every bit of knowledge I gain, I have a better chance of combating Mona.
>--->
I go straight to Mona’s once I leave the Pit. I don’t think twice about it this time. The sight of her cabin has become as familiar to me as the back of my hand.
She sits on the steps, reading over the Council logs. The sun is setting behind the surrounding woods. I stand at the bottom of the steps waiting for her to acknowledge me. I don’t plan to leave until she does.
Mona keeps her eyes on the log book, ignoring me for some time—her way of letting me know she has the upper hand. She’s in control. I clasp my hands behind me before I remember to do so mimics her own gesture, so I drop them and rock on my heels, waiting. If she thinks this ploy of ignoring me will make me leave, she’s mistaken. I have all the time in the world.
Finally, she sets the log aside and looks at me.
“What brings you here, Kate?”
I don’t bother with formalities. I get straight to the point of my visit.
“What happened to him?”
“What happened to whom?”
I narrow my eyes at her. She smiles, and the way her eyebrows bend at the action makes her look more evil than usual. She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“He was mouthy. We remedied the problem. There’s nothing more to tell.”
I know this is a lie, but I indulge her, hoping she’ll tell
me herself how she caught him and dragged him back to the Village—because I’m convinced she did.
“There has to be more,” I say defiantly. “You don’t cut a man’s tongue out for something so trivial.”
Mona’s smile is malicious. “I do.”
She laughs softly and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees.
“To be honest with you, Kate,” she says, rising and coming to stand over me. “He was a bit like you. I got very tired of beating sense into him, so I took a more drastic step. It worked.”
I’m silent, but inside I smile. So I’m not her first nuisance. There was Meg, of course, and my mate, it appears, has given her a share of misery as well. It gratifies me to know she’s had her hands full.
“Did you take him from another village, too?”
She sighs.
“No.”
I examine her eyes. She tells the truth. I stand silent studying her.
“Is that all?” she finally asks, peering down her nose from the top step.
“Yes.”
“All right, then. I suppose you’re hungry. I’ll walk with you to the dining hall.”
She locks the Council logs away inside her cabin and descends the steps.
“I’m glad you feel comfortable coming to me with your questions.” We walk side by side on the path, like equals—a pretty illusion. “You can always come to me. I will never keep anything from you. You’re sensible enough to digest whatever I tell you, I’m sure.”
I smirk. Mona never shares anything willingly. And she never tells me everything. She only reveals what she thinks is enough, and I’m supposed to be satisfied. Mona tosses me a look and laughs.
“Oh Kate, I can see why Fate has chosen you to take my place one day. You have spunk.”
I glance at her. Over the past few days, I have put some thought into becoming leader, and it repulses me still. I don’t want the role, and I am careful not to react to her words now. I don’t want to give her the impression I’ve resigned to it when I haven’t. Not quite yet.