But I can’t do anything. I can’t think of what to say. All I can think is that it’s Corin. That he’s here.
“I am not going to ask you again.” Jed’s voice is low as he squares up to Corin, forcing him back toward the hanging drape.
I stretch up, trying to sit up straighter, and meet Corin’s eyes. I nod.
Corin leaves.
“Who the hell does that man think he is?” Jed slams his fist into the wall.
He turns on me, and I try to shrink farther into the bed. Try to get away. Try to escape another beating… No, that’s not right… This is Jed… That’s not right, is it? Jed’s nice… He wouldn’t, would he?
No. I frown. Can’t think… Everything’s too… It’s like…a bit like when that kavalah spirit was in me. I suck in my next breath too quickly, feel my stomach twist. Is one inside me now? But it doesn’t feel the same, I don’t think—not like before, not really… This disorientation, it’s just because I’m hurt. Must be.
“I warned you what would happen,” Jed says. His voice is flat. “I told you the other men are not as nice as I am. I told you.” He walks toward me.
“But…” My voice comes out as a squeak. “Esther… It’s abuse.”
Jed shrugs. “What goes on between a man and his woman, behind the drape, is no one else’s business. Whatever it is.”
It sounds like a warning.
Jed steps up to the bed, looking down at me with a tenderness that is so sudden I think I must have gone mad. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
“I dressed your fingers as best as I could.”
He looks down at my right hand. I look too. Each finger has a bandage, with a splint of some sort, around it. Some of the bandages are redder than others. But I can’t really feel them. Can’t feel any pain. Any hurt.
And then I notice what I’m wearing. A violet gown.
Violet. I’ve lost more status. Because I challenged Manning.
“They might set a bit unevenly,” Jed says, talking about my fingers. “I had Soraya dose you up on some strong plants. But you will feel the pain later.” He turns away and walks to the door, then looks back at me. “I am sorry I was not there to protect you. I will not fail you again. But I have to go now.”
“What?” I stare at him.
“There is another fraud to dispose of.”
My chest tightens, and I feel the blood drain from my face. “What?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, shakes his head. That’s when I see the marks on his neck. The marks that look like the ones on my body. The insects have bitten him too.
I frown, get a bad feeling in my mouth.
Do not ignore the Dream Land warnings.
I flinch. Don’t know why I remember Death’s words now.
Jed turns his collar up, shakes his head again. “I should have gone straight there, but I came for you when I heard. Another girl has revealed herself as a fraud. It is a shame, as we are getting short on girls now… More have gone missing during hunts when you were unconscious. It must be the spirits. They want our girls.” He pauses. “I am sorry, S’ven. I have to go.” He bends down, presses his lips against my forehead. “Sleep now. When the painkillers have worn off, it will be harder.”
Four hours later, all I can feel is pain. It rushes at me. Throbbing pains that scratch and tear at me, clawing their way inside, until I’m screaming dry tears. Until I can’t breathe. Until I’m sure I’m dying.
It hurts with every breath. It wasn’t only my hand and my face Manning hurt. My chest, my ribs, my legs. They’re all screaming. I can’t move. Can’t do a thing to stop any of it… And the dreams are bad—Kyla’s murder and Esther’s attack play over and over in my mind—and when I awake, the bite marks are everywhere. But not just on me and Jed; they’re on the walls, the bed, and the floor too. Everywhere I look, they’re there…getting bigger and bigger. Until there’s nothing else left, and I’m just here, crying, scared, alone….
At last, Jed returns with Soraya. She gives me a drink of bitter-tasting liquid, doesn’t say anything to me though.
After a while, the pain subsides. I become more conscious of who I am… And the bites, the puncture marks, I’m not covered in them, after all. It was just my mind. There’s still the same amount as there was before, just on my side, my ribs and my hip. And it makes me feel better. I just imagined them—imagined the ones on Jed’s neck? I shake my head, try to think clearly, try to push the pain and confusion away.
Soon, I begin to feel things that aren’t pain; the covers over my legs are heavy, the air is cold, but my mother’s pendant against the base of my throat is colder.
My mother’s pendant. I inhale sharply. The Dream Land….
There’s a thickness in my head, like murky water, and it tries to obscure my thoughts… But I won’t let it.
Why wasn’t I warned of this? Why wasn’t I warned of what Manning’s capable of? No… He’s Untamed. Of course I wouldn’t be warned… The Dream Land is only to warn of the conversion attacks—Enhanced attacks.
But then I frown, trying to think of the last time I was there. Truly there, not just when Death pulled me there to threaten me, to warn me… When was the last time I had an actual Seeing dream?
I shut my eyes, try to fight through the pain. Try to think. I need to think.
But the throbbing in my head doesn’t stop me from realizing it’s been too long. That it’s been far too long since I visited the Dream Land…since I visited it properly.
But that’s because it’s unnecessary here. Because we’re safe. Jed’s told me that so many times… I think. Their own Seers don’t get warnings anymore, because there’s no need for warnings here.
Yet two girls were made Seers recently. Two. Kyla saw the bison. She had a vision. And the other girl would’ve too, the one Jed’s now disposing of.
I frown.
And both were killed—by the Zharat.
My frown gets deeper. Two girls became Seers.
My mouth dries. It’s almost as if the Gods and Goddesses are trying to warn us of something. But if they don’t warn me, why not use the Zharat Seers—the male Seers? I frown. Unless their access to the Dream Land has been permanently blocked, like the Enhanced Seers’ access—after all the Zharat kill the female Seers, and their male Seers don’t do anything to stop it, they even encourage it, take part. And killing an Untamed Seer would be justifiable grounds for blocking that Seer’s access to the Dream Land, just as if the individual had converted to the Enhanced…wouldn’t it?
I breathe out slowly. I’m onto something. I know that. I need to discuss this. It’s been too long. I’ve had no Seeing dreams recently—the last was that one of Three, if it was one—yet the Gods and Goddesses are trying to get a message across. I think of the two dead Seers, the two dead girls. My stomach curls.
There are only two other Untamed people here who know about my powers. And Esther will still be recovering. And Manning will be with her, watching her carefully, I know that. I can’t tell her, no. Can’t risk any Zharat finding out. And I feel guilty for thinking about my problem when she’s in danger.
But it still leaves one person I can tell.
Corin raises his eyebrows, and the movement highlights a new bruise on his face.
“You’re asking me—someone who, not long ago, didn’t trust Seers—Seer-related stuff?” His eyes are cold. If there’d been just a tiny hint of warmth, and if I’d been feeling like I wasn’t dying, I might have laughed and we’d have got on fine. But there isn’t any warmth at all. His eyes are as cold as the depths of the coldest river, with icy fragments protruding out of them, trying to scratch me.
“Corin, please.”
I try to hold his attention, but he’s already looking down at the crude piece of flint he’s working on. He’s shaping it into a sharp point. I’d managed to catch him alone, for once, in the men’s workroom, but it had taken me awfully long to get here, having to pause and lean against the wall every few seconds
, and several women gave me very strange looks on the way, but I made it here with no one stopping—or hurting—me.
I try again, press my hands flat against my gown. The violet color screams back at me, reminds me of my drop in status. “Something’s wrong.”
He shrugs and picks up his blade. “Oh, really? You’ve only just realized, after you and Esther were beaten, and Esther’s—”
I drop my gaze. My insect bites burn. “I meant with the Dream Land.”
He shrugs again. “You have no evidence for that assumption.” I see him glance down at my bandaged hand, but only for a second.
“Corin, I haven’t had a Dream Land vision in ages.” I pause as a sharp pain shoots around my chest. I shake my head. “It’s been too long. I can feel it.” I frown. Maybe it’s grief…my grief… Because grief stopped my mother’s visions before… No. My back aches, and I’m sure it’s not my grief at play here; I had a Seeing dream after the battle, before we even knew the Zharat. And Death told me to obey the Dream Land warnings—he’d have known if it was grief, he wouldn’t have threatened me. No. Something bad is happening here. “I can feel it, Corin. Something’s wrong.”
I shiver. It is wrong. I know it is. I feel the marks down the left side of my torso as they begin to feel more raised, prominent.
Corin looks up at me, and our eyes meet for the briefest second. But there’s no spark between us. And he doesn’t place a reassuring hand on me, or tell me it’ll be okay.
“So?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you not listening to me at all?” Corin doesn’t answer, so I continue. “Don’t you think it’s odd? Since we’ve been here, I haven’t been summoned. Not properly—there was only that one of Three, if it even was one.”
And, Death summoned me to make it clear I must obey the Dream Land warnings—yet I haven’t had any.
He shrugs. “We’re safe here then, that’s what that means. We’re safe. Well, at least from the Enhanced.” His eyes darken, and he strikes his piece of flint again. A shard flies off, and I watch as he tests the sharpness of the point with the fleshy pad of his thumb.
“So why were two others made into Seers? Those girls.” I flinch a little. “Corin, I’m telling you, something’s wrong.”
He strikes the flint with his blade, making a shrill sound.
“I think it’s fine,” he says. “But, then again, what do I know?” His tone takes a dangerous turn. “I’m just the man who couldn’t save his sister from that disgusting creep, and the man who was too weak for you to be with.”
“That’s not fair,” I cut in.
“Isn’t it?” He throws his arms in the air, dropping the flint and blade by his feet, showering us with loose stone flakes. “I didn’t see you fighting for us. I didn’t see you in Manning’s chamber begging him to let us be together. No.” He laughs sarcastically. “You just swanned off to that Jed bloke, happy as can be.”
“Happy?” I shake my head. “You think I’m happy with this?”
He glares at me. “You’re not trying to get out of this marriage,” he says. “You spend so much time with that man and his friends. You even smile when you see him now. What else am I supposed to think? You’re getting like Esther. Neither of you can see what these men are really like, and it’s as if you’re happy being treated like…” He shakes his head, then pushes past me. “And I can’t do a bloody thing about it. Not for either of you… Look, I’ve got to go, Sev. I’ve got better things to do than worry about Seer matters with you.”
“Better things?” I echo his words, and, for some reason, I think of Clare, picture them together. My shoulders tighten, and I breathe a little harder.
“Yes,” Corin snaps, picking up the flint. Its point looks sharper than before. “Like making sure Manning knows exactly what I’ll do if he ever touches my sister again.”
I watch him leave, my eyes glassing over.
He doesn’t care about you anymore, the voice in my head says. He doesn’t care if anyone else hurts you.
Over the next few days, I begin to feel better, even despite more insects biting me last night; but it’s okay, because the older scars have nearly gone, and I’ve changed the bedclothes twice more. At least, I feel better until I see Mart blocking my way.
I swallow hard, look around. It’s just the two of us in the tube. Nearly everyone else is outside. Jed said the spirits have granted us some unusually sunny weather within the rainy season, and people are making the most of it. He even said he’d take me out, show me the gardens where they grow food, but I told him I was too tired.
I can’t go outside. I can’t let the Enhanced find us. Can’t let them have all the Untamed.
But what are you going to do? Make sure your people survive by hiding here all the time? That’s no life.
I push that thought away and concentrate on Mart, see his eyes narrow. The lantern just above him casts long, jagged shadows across his face.
“I know what you are.” Mart steps closer, until he’s right in front of me. I try to move, but my legs won’t work. “I heard you, Seven. You don’t fool me.”
I twist my head, try to lean away from him, but he just presses himself closer to me, until his head is an inch from mine, and I’m engulfed by the foul smell on him—rotten vegetables and stale body odor.
Mart’s blue eyes flash. “I know you’re an Enhanced spy, and I know you’re planning an attack.” He bares his teeth slightly, and I swallow hard. “I’m watching you. So are my men. You won’t get away with this.”
I try to hold my head higher, but he can see I’m shaking.
“Run along, Seven.” His tone is nasal. “Run along while you can. Because it’s only a matter of time. A matter of time before I have proof of what you are. A matter of time before I slice your neck open with my axe, spill your blood.”
Mart’s lips twitch slightly, and then he steps back. I feel my nostrils flare as I watch him, try to work out what he’s going to do next. But he just stands there.
“Run along, Seven.”
My chest pounds. I push past him, gulping back tears. I try to keep them at bay, but I can’t. So, I run. I run out of the room, down the corridor. Don’t know where I’m going. I alternate left and right turns, until the walls are just blurring past me.
Until I’m—
Until I’m standing in front of Death.
That painting. Next to the bison. I stare at the wall, waiting for Death to move, waiting for Death to warn me about betrayal again. But he doesn’t move. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just an illustration, not the Dream Land now. But I need it to be. I need to get there, find out what’s wrong, receive the vision that Kyla had, that the other girl must’ve too.
But nothing happens.
My tears only make Death blur as I stare at the wall. I slide down, onto the ground.
I’m going mad. I’m actually going mad. It’s just a painting. And I’m sitting here, waiting, expecting it to move, to transport me to the Dream Land.
Oh Gods. I’m not normal. I’m like that woman my mother told me about. One who went mad after she was rescued her from the Enhanced. She said the woman never was the same again, that she saw things, talked to people who weren’t there.
And I’ve been doing that—talking to my dead sister’s ghost. And Death.
I swear loudly, then I punch the ground next to me with my bad hand, feel my scarred knuckles split open; pain shoots through my crushed fingers. Feel the blood oozing out, bursting around the bandages on my fingers, the splints. I watch it, watch the redness make little trails down the dry skin on the back of my hand. It’s like a map, a living map on the back of my hand. New rivers forming.
I pull the bandages off, one by one, and—
“Seven?”
I look up, see a girl heading toward me. Jeena. Jed’s daughter. Another girl trails her.
“There you are!” Jeena’s eyes widen as she sees my hand, the blood.
I try to hide it, try to wipe the redness awa
y on my violet shirt, but I can’t. There’s too much. My worn, black denim skirt soaks some of it up, but not enough.
“Are you okay?” That’s the other girl. They’re both staring at me.
I nod. Then I point at the wall with my bloody fist, at the painting of Death. “Have you ever seen it move?” And I don’t know why I’m saying it, because I know last time it was because of the Dream Land, not my madness.
Jeena looks uncomfortable. “That’s a painting. Paintings don’t move.”
More tears roll down my face.
“Come on, we shouldn’t be here,” the other girl says. She’s looking around. “The Seers don’t like females to be alone in the Gods’ Corridor.”
Electricity springs through my body. I jump up, feel a strange pressure in my ears. “What? The Gods’ Corridor?”
The girls recoil.
“These are depictions of the Gods.” Jeena points at the one of Death, then farther down to where there are more paintings—paintings I didn’t get a chance to look at last time. “We shouldn’t be here.”
My chest tightens as I stare at the painting of Death. “He’s a God?” My hand shakes as I try to point at him.
The other girl nods. “Yes, that’s Waskabe, the God of Death.”
The God of Death.
My lips move slightly. I shake my head. And I’ve seen him. Jed’s words come back to me, about how Seers meet their Gods. About how his father met the God of Life.
My skin starts stinging, all over.
I’ve seen Death.
I’ve seen the God of Death.
“The stories say that he is drawn to those who are the most powerful,” Jeena says, “those who will become the most important Seers, because they are the ones who are most easily tempted by the Enhanced—he wants to stop them converting. He makes them his Seers of Death, and he threatens them if they think of converting; and those Seers listen, because as their God, he owns their bodies and souls. No one wants to be trapped with him forever and never make it to the New World when they die.”
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