Breeder: An Arrow's Flight Novel

by Casey Hays

  His eyes change into something like sorrow mixed with fear, and at first I don’t think he’s going to answer, but he leans forward into the light and writes the letters slowly.

  E-D-E-N

  The word doesn’t make sense in my mind right away, and I stare in utter shock as I realize what it says. Eden.

  Eden?

  My eyes drift in stunned silence to his face.

  “Are—are you sure?” I whisper the words as if I’m afraid Eden will completely disappear if I speak too loudly.

  John lets out an enormous sigh and nods once. I just sit still, absorbing the unbelievable information with wide eyes. John has been to Ian’s village! He’s seen it with his own eyes! It simply isn’t possible!

  I asked Mona to tell me more about Eden, and she’s promised to—eventually. I can hear her words echoing in my memory: “Eden is a favorite of mine. It is very special.”

  Why? This is the question that burns me at every turn. Why is Eden special? Why did she take Ian from his home? Why did she pair me with John?

  Why did she pair me with John? Is she mocking me?

  She must know John’s been to Eden. In fact, the certainty that she does lies in the fact that she conveniently ripped out his tongue. And again, why? I know the answer: To keep him quiet about what he knows. To make sure the women in the Village never hear the truth.

  To keep us from learning that we are not the only ones left on Earth.

  A bitter anger rises in me and weaves its way through my other emotions, smothering all other feeling for a moment. I can tell the women a story—feed their imaginations with things they’ve never dreamed possible. Ian told me enough to cause damage if I dared. Mona knows this, and yet, she’s left my tongue intact.

  I am the next leader. The inevitability of it stings me.

  “I’ve heard of Eden,” I say tonelessly. “Did you like it?”

  He focuses on me and shrugs, a sadness visible in the motion.

  “I knew someone from there,” I say as John raises his brows, surprised. “He’d been brought here to be my mate, but he became my friend instead. His name was Ian. I helped him get away.” I close my eyes. “I miss him.”

  John tilts his head, lifts my chin, and understanding flows from him. I smile through blurry eyes.

  “Ian told me a few things about Eden. He came back for me once because he wanted me to go with him, but I couldn’t.” I shrug with a sigh. “Sarah isn’t there anymore, is she?”

  The hurt crosses his eyes again, and he shakes his head.

  “Did something happen to her.”

  His own tears form. He nods again.

  “I wish you could tell me more, John. I wish you could tell me about Sarah. Perhaps we can find an easier method of communicating.”

  He swallows hard and looks away. I sense that he has no desire to talk about any of it.

  “I can tell you about Ian,” I say after a minute. I smile sadly and look at my hands. “He was so stubborn.” I half laugh as I say it. “And so sweet. He had a temper, too.” John is listening intently. “And he had the most beautiful eyes. Bluer than the sky.” I sigh and stare out through the gate. “I wish I could see his eyes. Just once more would be enough.”

  John’s hand, still clutching mine, squeezes slightly. I shake my head, collecting myself.

  “It’s over now. But I would have liked to see Eden, I suppose.”

  John’s grip tightens painfully, and it startles me. Our eyes connect, and the fierceness in his is piercing. He shakes his head just as fiercely and very definitively, and he keeps hold of me as he writes one more word in the dirt.

  D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S-!

  When he raises his head, he looks different, and the heat of his fingers—which matches the intensity of his brown, warning eyes—burns into my arm at the same moment a cold fear crawls up my spine like a million spiders. And Mona’s words penetrate my memory again:

  It is very special.

  >--->

  I can’t sleep. I toss and turn on my mat, kicking the blankets off when I get too hot and pulling them back over me as the breeze through my window brings me a chill. The bamboo leaves rustle loudly and then quiet as the breeze lulls and kicks up again in an uneven pattern.

  Ian and his village are on my mind. My world has been irrevocably turned upside down over a place that isn’t supposed to even exist—a place full of thousands of people. I cannot wrap my mind around the concept. I’ve never seen a thousand people.

  And John? His reaction to Eden worries me. It makes me wonder what Ian didn’t tell me about his home, which in turn makes me worry about him. And these thoughts spin around inside my brain in vicious circles.

  Hours past midnight, I get up. No sense in lying here any longer if I’m not going to sleep. I pull a blanket around my shoulders and slip through the door of my hogan into the cool night.

  The stars twinkle across the sky, brightening the darkness some. I lean against the side of the hogan and slide down until I’m sitting. The Archer is out tonight. He’s always out, it seems—always checking up on me. I trace his bow from one starry point to the other. He has spoken for me ever since the night I was born under his sign. Just like tonight, he bravely guarded the sky then, too. I smirk at him.

  The woman who brought me books said something once. “Katie, you keep a look out for the Archer. Always know where he is. Do you understand? You cannot ever lose sight of him, or he might just take your dreams away when your back is turned.”

  As usual, I didn’t fully understood what she meant. I thought, in my young mind, it was her way of promising he would protect me, and all I had to do was look up to find him. So out of habit, I made a point to find him every time the stars were out. Sometimes I find myself doing it still—like tonight.

  Now, I see a different meaning in her message.

  In our classes, we learned that the stars give direction. Fate is written in them, and we must accept what life has for us without challenge. It’s drilled into us, and this has been my problem all along. I don’t accept it. I want to believe something bigger holds this world together—something bigger than three women spinning thread on a ribbon of stars.

  I know I’m treading deep waters to even think these things. We should never tempt Fate, and each of these thoughts takes me one step farther from the Archer, who is beautiful and strong and full of fire, according to the lessons. He is to define my every move, and I am supposed to find my life’s path by following him devotedly. But I don’t want to follow him.

  I don’t believe in Fate.

  So tonight, as I stare up at the Archer in all his brilliance, I make a promise to myself that goes beyond just refusing to be a breeder. I vow to avoid every sign of the Archer that crosses my path. If he orders me in one direction, I will run as fast as I can in the other.

  And Eden is more real for me than ever, not only because of Ian, but because of John. Knowing he’s seen it even when I haven’t gives me permission to believe there is a world where Fate does not decide, where males and females are equal, where mothers raise their own children, and where love between a man and a woman exists. And this makes me brave enough to turn my back on this destiny and find a new one.

  I stare at the stars until they seem to fade out, and after a while, I must be dreaming because Ian is with me. He lifts my face and kisses my forehead again, just like he did the last time I saw him. But this time, he doesn’t leave. He pulls me to my feet and spins me around under the stars. I laugh with the pure joy of seeing him again. He pulls me close, and I feel his lips on mine, soft and sweet. But soon, he begins to fade, and a familiar pain digs a hole through my heart and settles in. His kiss on my forehead scorches like fire, until his memory is burned right out of my mind, and all that’s left is a bow he traded his mother’s silver goblets for and the scream burning in my throat.

  Something thuds against my leg. I squint. The stars are gone, along with the dream I can’t remember, and a shadow falling over me blocks the m
orning sun. I raise a hand to shade my eyes.

  “Are you all right, Kate?” Mia’s arms are crossed over her chest. She tilts her head in concern. “What are you doing out here?”

  I straighten. “I guess I fell asleep finally,” I croak.

  “Out here?”

  I rub my eyes under her scrutiny.

  “It’s morning,” she says. “Do you want some porridge?”

  I nod groggily, and stand, stretching. My mouth is thick with sleep. I roll my tongue against my cheeks. Mia skips away, and I slip inside to wash.

  She returns quickly, and I take the bowl. We sit on the mat together. I scoop a bite into my mouth and am about to take another when I catch Mia’s eye. She’s not eating.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She doesn’t answer, but her eyes twinkle.

  “What, Mia?”

  “Nothing. I just wondered how things are with you and . . . you know . . . just things.”

  I’m confused at first, but I catch on quickly. “With John?”

  “John?” Mia’s brows furrow together.

  “Yes. John.”

  She lowers her bowl to stare at me in irritation. “Why do you do that, Kate? I don’t understand you.”

  “Do what?”

  “Get to know your mate so personally. It’s disturbing.”

  Here it is again. I’ve hopelessly fooled myself into thinking Mia has changed her mind about the stock. And even after she helped me free Ian, our conversation by the river has not urged her to reconsider her loyalties. Still she insists on doing Fate a favor and keeping everyone locked in their proper places. I take her up on her challenge.

  “And why shouldn’t I? He’s a real person, in the flesh, with real needs. He has every right to be treated as one. Do you even know your mate’s name?”

  Mia juts out her chin defiantly. “No! No one does. Why would I need to? There’s no point.”

  I sigh. “There’s always a point to everything we do. If you haven’t learned that, you’re more dense than I thought.”

  Mia’s mouth drops in shock.

  “You think I’m dense?” she whispers, the hurt evident in her voice. “After all this time that we’ve been friends, you say that to me?”

  “Mia, I’m sorry.” I set my bowl on the ground. “It’s just that you frustrate me. You never think for yourself. You just do everything Mona tells you to do. You never ask questions. Why don’t you ask questions? You might find something so much better that just—just—this!”

  “Maybe I don’t want to know the answers! Is that all right with you?”

  Mia stands up and walks several paces away before she faces me again.

  “I don’t want to have to live every day thinking that there is something better when I know I will never see it. And I don’t want to spend any more time in that Pit than I have to asking questions. I have a duty, and I am there to fulfill it. It’s my calling. And as for Mona, she only does what is best for all of us—to protect the Village and keep the peace. We should be grateful.”

  I snort. “I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to be grateful when she’s slapping at me every time I blink.”

  “You don’t behave, Kate. She never worries with me because I do as I’m told—without questioning her.”

  I stare her straight in the eyes.

  “And that is why you will never truly live.”

  Her eyes turn cold. I instantly regret how harsh I sound, and I redirect.

  “Mia, rejecting Mona’s idea of how the Village—how my own life should be handled—has dumped me into a mess more times than I can count. But it’s done something else, too.”

  “Left you bloody and bruised,” Mia mumbles under her breath.

  “No. It’s given me something that is mine. Something no one else can have unless I choose to give it. And it’s the only thing I have left of myself.”

  It’s quiet for a long time as Mia digests what I’ve said. She shakes her head.

  “It’s too late for me,” she finally says.

  “No, it isn’t,” I wait for her to connect with me again before I continue. “You can change things still.”

  She shakes her head and leans against the wall. “No. I am a breeder. I can’t erase time and make myself who I was before my sixteenth birthday. It’s done.”

  “It’s never too late for change.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, Kate. You’ve made all the right choices, regardless of whether it caused you a smacking.” She pauses, shrugs. “I admire you. But I could never do it.”

  “It’s not about making the right choices. It’s about listening to your heart.” I scoop up my bowl and stand to rinse it in the wash basin. I lean against the basin facing her. “Let’s have a dare.”

  She frowns. “Kate, we aren’t little girls anymore.”

  “Humor me, Mia. Go to the Pit, just once and talk to him—and nothing more. Learn his name; tell him about you; let him tell you of himself, as limited as that may be, and you just might find there is more to him than you imagine.”

  Mia’s doubt is evident.

  “That is quite ridiculous, Kate. You can’t possibly understand what you’re asking me to do.”

  “Yes, I can—because I’ve done it.”

  She begins to protest, but her mouth only clamps shut. She cannot argue with this.

  “And I can tell you,” I continue when she still says nothing. “That it is the most rewarding experience I’ve ever had. It has changed my life. And more importantly, it’s changed my mind about men.”

  She is thoughtful, and I remain quiet, giving her time to digest my speech.

  “I do want to live, Kate, as you said,” she finally replies. “I do my best with what’s been given to me.”

  I walk to her, taking her hand. “Do more with it, Mia. That’s all I’m suggesting.”

  “And what will you do now?” Her eyes are weary. “Now that Ian is gone, and you are still refusing to obey your calling?”

  I think on it. It’s never been my plan to deliberately stage a mutiny. I’m not dead set on an uprising. After all, war is what ruined our world in the first place. But I cannot betray my conscience. I have to be true to who I am. And I don’t care what Fate declares; I am not a breeder.

  “I don’t know, yet,” I finally say. “But whatever it is, you can be sure Mona won’t approve.”

  After all, she rarely approves of anything I do.

  Chapter 23

  “The world cannot accept Him, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him. But you know Him, for He lives with you and will be in you.” John 14:17

  I arrive at John’s cave early in the morning, just before the unexpected storm turns the skies dark, and heavy clouds move in to settle over the Village. Outside the cave, rain gushes from the sky like many rivers, but inside we are dry and warm enough. The rains have cooled the air considerably, and it is welcome after so many days of heat.

  We lie side by side on John’s mat, tucked toward the back of the small space. The weather has darkened the cave, and we can hardly see each other. He props his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling. I rest my head on his arm. Aside from the rumbling thunder, it has been another peacefully quiet day for us, and I drift off a time or two to the sounds outside.

  When the rain finally eases to a pattering of drops and suddenly stops, John slides off the mat and slips to the floor beside it. He scoops up a pointed stick I’d brought for him a few days ago and proceeds to draw a picture. I roll onto my side to watch him.

  He draws a picture of me—a perfect depiction. It’s the third time he’s drawn me, I smile again at his talent. If only the others could see this. What would they think of the dog?

  “Have you ever wondered where you would be if Mona hadn’t dragged you back here?” I ask.

  He pauses in his drawing and shrugs at my question. He reaches over to adjust a piece of my hair before returning to his drawing. I smile.

  “I guess you’d be with Sarah.”
I sigh and roll onto my back to stare at the ceiling. “Of course you would.”

  I turn my head. He stops drawing to look at me. Leftover rain drips rhythmically from the overhang outside the cave entrance. The sun fights to show itself through the obstinate clouds.

  “What was she like?”

  He lowers his brown eyes, sadness seeping in at my question. I touch his shoulder. After a moment, he writes with the stick.

  B-U-T-I-F-U-L

  I lean over the mat to read. “Beautiful.” I smile at his effort to spell the word. He writes.

  S-M-A-R-T

  I nod at him. “Did you learn of love from Sarah?”

  Instead of answering, he draws a heart with an arrow piercing it clean through. I purse my lips.

  “John?” He raises his eyes. “Are you satisfied with this life?”

  He gives me an exasperated look.

  “I know. Foolish question. It’s just that . . . I have this unsatisfied aching inside, a cracked pain that has no name. It is here all the time.” I place my hand over my heart. “I haven’t been able to rid myself of it.”

  He raises a brow and writes I-A-N-?

  I smile, but I shake my head. “No. I miss him, no doubt, but I don’t mean him. It’s more of a feeling that something is missing—something inside me that should be there, but has never been. Do you understand?”

  He tilts his head and waits for me to speak again.

  “Do they teach you about the Stars when you’re in the nursery.”

  He shakes his head with confusion. I nod.

  “I didn’t think so.” I sit up and cross my legs under me. “We are taught about Fate. That it has the final say in our lives. I suppose it applies to you, too, even though you don’t realize it.”

  I pause, reach down and draw an arrow in the dust. John finishes it by adding detailed feathers to the end.

  “We’re supposed to be satisfied with what Fate has planned for us. Content.” I shrug. “I’m not. I feel . . . empty.”

  He only stares at me. I know I’m not making any sense, but I keep talking because I can, and he can do nothing but listen.