Taking a deep breath, I hold a rag to my side until the bleeding ceases.
Then I get dressed and change the bedclothes.
Jed returns a minute later. He looks better now. A lot better. “We shall go and get food now.”
I try to hide my shaking. They’re just insect bites, I tell myself. Just insect bites. And I keep telling myself that as Jed and I leave the room.
In the gathering room, Corin barely looks at me as we all prepare to eat. But just seeing him makes me feel better. He hasn’t left.
Jed puts his arm around me, and his lips briefly press against my left temple. I crane my neck away from him, watching Corin as he limps across the room, joins a small group of people, including Esther, on the other side.
“We are going to be very happy,” Jed says, his words pulling me back to our circle.
A Zharat man in front of us nods, smiling a semi-toothless smile. He is sharpening an arrow, and shards of wood and splinters fly from his lap. Something about the pattern the splinters land in on the table reminds me of my insect bites, and I shudder, try to distract myself.
Nyesha is next to the man with the arrow; she’s preparing more food, and her seven-year-old daughter sits next to her. I’m not sure where her youngest baby is, but this girl’s eyes watch me, make me feel uneasy.
And, looking around at Jed, the Zharat man, and Nyesha, I realize just how out of place I am here. They’re all so much older than me. I’m still a child, according to my old culture. But here, I’ve been an adult for over three years. The Zharat even think I’m old to be getting married; before, when Nyesha was helping me change into my wedding gown, she told me how she got married on the eve of her fourteenth birthday. I’ll be close to eighteen by the time of my marriage in a month’s time.
I gulp, look across at Corin, but he still won’t look at me. He’s looking anywhere except at me. I keep glancing at him—when I think Jed’s not watching me—imploring Corin to meet my eyes. But he doesn’t.
A few minutes later, I see Esther sneak several glances at me, and I drop my gaze.
Nyesha’s voice makes me jump. She’s standing now. “Come on, Seven, we must go and sew now. There are clothes that need fixing.”
I follow Nyesha. She exits by the smallest less-well lit tube, and we have to walk right past Corin and Esther. Neither looks at me. Corin is now intent on rolling some sort of cigarette. I notice Esther’s short hair is now in tiny, stubby braids.
And, as I look around, I see other women are leaving too. In fact, all the women are leaving. Even the female children are getting up, following their mothers and sisters and aunts.
Apart from Esther. She doesn’t move. She just smiles toward the opposite doorway, where Manning now enters. He returns her smile.
I quicken my pace, catching up with Nyesha. She leads me into a wide cave room where several other women are now sitting.
We join them on the floor, and Nyesha shows me how to use the needle more efficiently, scolding my poor, uneven attempts.
“Where’s Soraya?” I put the sewing down a little while later and look around, can’t see her. A small child climbs onto my lap. I’m not sure which one of the women is the girl’s mother, but no one says anything. They just act like it’s normal.
“Neither she nor Miles joined us at breakfast. They’re probably together,” says Nyesha.
“Unless they’ve run away too,” a voice says. “Clare says we should all run away.”
“What?” I look around.
Nyesha frowns at the woman who spoke, then she turns to me. “You know that first group of girls who went fishing on the day of the fight for you—the ones getting fresh fish for the wedding feast? They never returned. Our men went to look for them, but found nothing. And another group went out yesterday to fish. Different lakes though. And they should have got back within the last hour at the latest, but they’re still not back. Many people think that’s two lots missing.” She turns her eyes on the other woman. “But they will return. They haven’t run away—Clare’s wrong. She shouldn’t be listened to—there’s a reason she wears violet now.”
She nods, seems confident.
“They could’ve got in trouble. You know what the spirits at the lakes are like. They could all be dead,” another voice says. “Or it could be the lions again. They’ll be hungry at this time of year, and that group was all young girls, wasn’t it? Easy prey.”
Nyesha frowns at the new speaker. “They’ll be back soon. All of them. Unharmed.”
“Mummy?”
Nyesha’s daughter suddenly crosses the room, stops in front of us. She looks at the small child I’m still holding, then at me.
“What is it, Kyla?” Nyesha asks.
The girl continues to regard me with her big eyes for a few moments, then shrugs, turns to Nyesha. “I had another bad dream this morning. But I was scared to tell you.”
Nyesha kneels down by her, places her hands on her shoulders. She glances at me for a second. I’m the only one watching them—the other women are talking again.
“You were scared?” Nyesha asks, pulling her daughter closer to her.
The girl nods. There’s water in her eyes, it nearly brims over the edges. She sticks her bottom lip out. It trembles.
“Why, sweetie?”
“Because of Daddy. He told me if I had a dream with it in I mustn’t say because it would upset him. But this one was scary, and it felt real, Mummy. And I’m scared.” She lowers her voice so her words are barely audible. “The bison looked like a real bison.”
My body jolts. My chest tightens. I’m stepping nearer, holding the small child in my arms, before I’m even aware I’ve got up.
The bison.
Nyesha stands up quickly, shoots me a warning look, and grabs her daughter’s hand. “Come on, Kyla.”
She marches her daughter straight past me.
“Nyesha—” I race after her as best as I can, still holding the smaller girl.
Nyesha turns back to me, raises one hand. She looks around, eyes fierce. “Not a word of this to anyone,” she says. “Forget this happened, Seven. Promise me.”
Her eyes get even fiercer as she waits for me to nod, to agree.
“I promise,” I say.
Nyesha nods, then turns, pulls her daughter from the room.
Not one word, Seven. Don’t betray anyone else.
I try to forget it happened, but I can’t get Kyla’s words out of my head—or maybe I don’t want to because it’s a welcome distraction from my situation with Corin and the other situation with Raleigh and my eyes. But either way, Kyla saw the bison. And it felt real, that’s what Kyla said. It’s got to be a Seer warning. It has to be important.
But I wasn’t warned. And I’m a Seer. If there was something we needed to know, the Gods and Goddesses and spirits should’ve told me. Could Kyla’s dream have been a normal one that just happened to have a bison in it?
But Kyla said her dream was scary. And I remember how shaken up she was. Is that how a normal nightmare would affect her?
An hour later, I finally decide I need to find out what the girl saw.
But the moment I step out of Jed’s room, he’s there, eyes blazing.
“You did not listen.” He leans forward until his face is right in front of mine. The dark circles under his eyes make him look dangerous, make me wonder if he’s sleeping at all.
I look at him, uncertain, then tighten my hands into fists. “What?”
“I told you I did not want you outside. Yet you went out—and you had taken your ring off. I saw you.” He leans in even closer. “I saw you down by the tree line. And, believe me, if I had not been up to my shoulders in animal guts, I would have marched straight over and dragged you back myself.”
I stare at him, look down at my hand. The ring is definitely there. I’ve been trying to ignore it. “I didn’t go outside.”
The muscles around Jed’s eyes tighten. “Do not lie to me, S’ven. I saw you, you disappeared thr
ough the trees. Thought you’d sneak out and meet Corin?”
Just his name—his name spoken by Jed—makes me flinch, but I lift my head higher.
“No.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I didn’t go outside! I was with Nyesha…and the other women. We were repairing clothes. You can ask them.”
He makes a low sound in his throat. “I shall be lenient this time.” Then he steps back, looks at me. His pupils seem to rotate as he looks me up and down. “Where are you going now?”
“To find Nyesha.”
Jed glares at me. “But you should not be walking around the caves on your own, S’ven. I told you that.”
I feel my temper rising. I fold my arms. “Then come with me. I’m just going to see Nyesha. That’s all.”
But if Jed does come—and he waits with me—I’m not going to be able to speak to Kyla. And what if Nyesha thinks I’ve told Jed? Or what if Jed suspects something?
“I am tired.” He flicks his hands in an irritated manner, then steers me back into his room—our room. He indicates for me to sit down, and I do, on the edge of my mattress. “Stay here with me. I have to prepare for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“A Seer meeting.” He looks up, and his eyes meet mine. Shivers run through me.
“Oh.” Questions burn me, but I know I can’t ask them.
Jed lets out a long breath, then he too sits down. Next to me.
I watch him from the corner of my eye. He’s close, too close. I sit up straighter, fold one leg over the other. Then he puts his arm around me, rests its weight on me in such a way that pulls on my neck.
A minute passes, then his arm slips down, his hand curls around my waist. I flinch.
“What are you doing?”
“Comforting you.”
“I don’t need comforting.”
I try to stay calm, try to stop my chest from shuddering. I need to keep a clear head. I look toward the doorway. The drape has been drawn across, and I’m not sure when that happened, but there’s a slight gap. If someone walked past, they might see us. But I don’t even know where I’m going with this thought. Everyone thinks we’re together.
“You feel thin.” Jed’s fingers press into my left side, intruding, against my ribs.
I flinch, the skin there is still tender, and I don’t want him to feel those bites, to ask questions.
Jed frowns at me. “I have hardly seen you eat here. Why are you not eating?”
“I am.”
“You are not.” He removes his hand from my body. “If this is some kind of protest against our marriage, starving yourself, then know that it is not going to work.”
“It’s not.” I try to keep my voice neutral, but my words are too high-pitched.
“Good. Because you are obviously not happy about this, and you know I am not going to force myself on you—so there is no point dragging your health down too. That is just attention seeking, and I do not like attention-seekers.”
Jed leaves early the next morning for his Seer meeting. He didn’t speak to me any more that night, and I didn’t speak to him either. Still, I caught him watching me though, when he thought I wasn’t looking.
I stay in bed a little longer, but there’s no point in just lying here—a baby’s crying not far away—so I get up. It is cold, but the air is dry, rough. Unlike some of the other tubes, which are damp, there’s no humidity here at all now, and it makes my throat feel tickly.
I sort out new yellow clothes to put on, then peel off my nightdress. I’m relieved to find there are no more marks. The insects must’ve gone. The old bites are healing now. Changing the bedclothes solved it.
I head off for the gathering room, and although I pass a few groups of men, none of them say or do anything. Still, I don’t feel comfortable walking on my own, because they stare. Their eyes burn into me. And I already feel self-conscious enough as it is.
The moment I arrive in the gathering room, Corin corners me. He smells of smoke. My heart speeds up, relief floods me—he’s been waiting for me, wants to talk to me, to see me.
I reach for his hands, and he lets me hold them. “Corin, I—”
“No, Sev. No.” He yanks his hands away from me, as if he’s only just realized he let me take them a moment ago. His eyes are on me, but he seems to have difficulty swallowing. “I need you to… I need you to watch Esther.”
I stare at him. The insect bites start to itch a little. “What?”
He purses his lips for a few seconds, then drops his gaze to the floor as he wrings his hands together. “Something’s not right. I’m worried. This isn’t like her at all. She spends too much time with that man. She says nothing’s going on, but I’m—I’m not so sure. She reminds me that he’s married, every time I say it, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He shakes his head again, and the light catches the healing cuts on his face.
I want to touch his face. The sudden realization surprises me, makes me feel strange, and I have to actively think about not moving my hand. But his skin looks sore, and I want to make it better. I bite my lip.
“Sev?” His eyes are back on me now, and I watch his Adam’s apple move a little.
A jolt runs through my body. “What… Which man?”
“Manning.”
My eyes widen a little, and I know I shouldn’t be so surprised. All the signs are there—they have been for a while, and I feel bad I haven’t really been paying attention to what’s going on with other people.
Corin rubs his hands together in front of his chest. “He’s been doing way too much for her, more than a chief should.” He shakes his head. “You must’ve noticed. He personally oversaw her healing, made sure she didn’t get branded as a spy, and now he’s… There’s something going on, Sev. I don’t like it. Keep an eye on her. She disappears on her own a lot. When she does, follow her. You’ll be less noticeable than me.”
I nod, because it seems like I haven’t got a choice.
“Thank you,” Corin says. He starts to turn away.
“No, Corin, wait—we need to talk.”
I try to get his hands again, but he avoids me. His eyes meet mine, then he shakes his head.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
And he walks away, to the other side of the gathering room, his gait uneven, limping.
I stare after him. It’s back to the way it used to be: he only spoke to me because he wanted something. My chest caves in.
I turn back, toward the center of the gathering room. I look around, looking for a friendly face. The sudden need to talk to someone hits me hard. But I have no friends I can confide in here. None at all, not really. No one’s on my side: Nyesha and Soraya are still Zharat, and if they knew I was a Seer, they’d be horrified.
“S’ven.”
I turn, Jed’s suddenly behind me, marching toward me with swift speed. He’s back from the Seer meeting, so soon.
“Why were you talking to him?”
My cold fingers burn as I stare at him. My lips start to move, try to make sounds, but I don’t know what I’m saying. My shoulders hunker a little.
“Why?” Jed repeats. His hands find their way onto my shoulders. “I will be your husband. You do not need to talk to other men.”
His eyes are narrowed, waiting for me to agree or something.
“S’ven?”
I swallow hard, lift my head up higher.
Suddenly Jed’s hands slip down to my wrists. I turn, try to pull my hands away, but can’t. His fingers are concrete.
“Do you understand me?” His voice is darker, darker than I’ve ever heard it.
“Let go.” Somehow, I keep my voice steady.
Jed’s grip only tightens. “Do you understand me?”
I turn, and people are watching. Everywhere.
Corin’s watching. I see him, see the tightness in his face, recognize the way he’s breathing; he’s angry. But he doesn’t do anything.
Jed’s grip gets tighter.
>
“Do you understand me?”
I nod. He drops my hands a second later. I pull my wrist up, see the imprints from his fingers on my skin. My stomach tightens. But I don’t say anything.
We don’t speak for the rest of the day. Or the night. Which suits me fine. I don’t want to speak to him. When we’re not talking, it’s easier for hope to grow within me, hope that says somehow I will get out of this marriage…that Corin might still rescue me. Somehow. I hope.
Then I feel silly.
I don’t need Corin.
I can’t afford to need anyone.
The next morning, I do my chores. Soraya is back now, and I help her make flour from sorghum, grinding it into a fine powder. She introduces me to her two-year-old son who’s playing with a piece of animal hide on the floor behind us, and I’m surprised I haven’t already met him—or known of his existence. But there are so many children here, because of the rules about marriage and reproduction.
“Did those girls come back?” I ask. “The ones who went to the lakes? Or the first lot?”
Soraya shakes her head. “No. The men have gone out looking again, and Manning. That’s what that Seer meeting yesterday was about. The Seers all asked their Gods, but didn’t find out anything. They say Gods only see and foresee things in our world relating to their chosen Seers, but even then, they see a distorted version, or only fragments. The Dream Land only works because so many Gods put what they’ve seen into the warnings—it builds a picture. Sometimes, good spirits will help with the warnings too—maybe add a few small details if they can—but it is the Gods who are the strongest. Still, the Gods don’t foresee everything. They never can. Not really.” She sighs. “It was a long shot our Seers just asking a few Gods anyway. But there’s no sign of them, the girls.” Soraya pauses and rubs her stomach. “Evil spirits have probably got them, and in that case, the Gods might not know anyway. But it’s best not to talk about the girls, in case their parents hear. Anna’s not doing well.”
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