by Kaylin Lee
“We were just kids. We weren’t strong enough to go after the trade caravans like everyone else, so instead, we …” Si rubbed the back of his neck.
“We robbed the bandits,” Damian said flatly. “Stole what they stole. Like scavengers.”
“Like survivors. We worked together. We did what we had to do, like every other Badlander. And …” Si gestured to the furnishings and tapestries in the cave. “We stole back what they’d stolen from us.”
“But we agreed that was no life for little boys,” Damian said. “And when we got word that the Galanos family was hiring more miners, we moved out here. It’s been three years since we’ve stolen so much as a single mark, and I want it to stay that way.”
“Speak for yourself.” Si looked a little guilty. “But let’s not argue about how pristine our records may or may not be. I see what the mine is doing to you boys. You’re all starving again. And Alba may have healed Stefan, but when she leaves, he’s just going to get sick again, like always. It’s the same story every time a Badlander tries to get straight. Mine quotas are up, rations are down, and now you’re in their debt. You think things won’t get worse from here? I promise you they will.”
“What would Dad say?” Damian’s calm demeanor was fraying. “We got out of stealing. We stayed clean. We have a real trade now, for Theros’s sake! We can’t go back to thieving now that we know we can survive without it.”
Si’s nostrils flared. He pointed at their younger brothers, who sat, wide-eyed and silent, at the table. “This isn’t surviving, brother.”
“Even if we went along with you—and we won’t—but even if we did …” Damian’s shoulders sagged. “We can’t leave without paying our debt. It’s not who we are. And if we did, they’d just find us. They have powerful magic, Si. I think that’s why all the game disappeared and the plants don’t grow around here. No one leaves the mine.”
“So we pay it off together,” Si said stubbornly. “We hit one camp, maybe two, then sell what we find and use the money to pay off your obligation. You’ll be free.”
“What about Alba?”
“What about her? Simple. Soon as you’re free of the mine, we’ll sneak her past the Hollow’s guards and help her get back to Asylia. It’s the least we could do, after she healed us. Right?”
For a moment, Damian looked tempted. Then he ran a hand though his hair and heaved a deep, agitated sigh. “Three years ago, you were the one pushing for us to try the mine. You didn’t want Drew growing up like the rest of us. We argued every night until you convinced me. When we came out here, we were in total agreement—there was no going back the way we’d come.” He speared Si with a narrow-eyed glare. “What changed?”
“We’re Badlanders.” Si’s gaze slid away from his brother’s. “This world is no place for civilized morals. Survive and be free, beholden to no one—that’s the only way for men like us to live. That’s all we’ve ever wanted, right?” He paused, and after a long moment, Damian nodded. “Well, the mine won’t get us there. Thieving will. It’s a clear choice.”
The cave was quiet, save for the slightly raspy sound of Stefan’s breathing. Had his illness returned so soon after I’d healed him? I didn’t want to agree with Si, but I didn’t see how they could send their asthmatic brother back into the mine, either.
“If that’s the case, then it’s clear we don’t belong in the Badlands.” Damian pushed his glasses up his nose. “We’re going to Asylia, Si. We’ll live off victus for the rest of our lives if we must. The moment we pay down that debt, we’re gone. And you’re not going to stop us.”
Chapter 20
“I hope you don’t think less of us, now that you know what we’ve done.” Damian watched me carefully over the battered, wire rims of his glasses. “Or maybe you should. That’s probably what we deserve. But I hope you know that you are still safe with us.”
I pulled my blanket tighter over my shoulders. Si had stalked out of the cave after their argument, and he hadn’t yet returned. The younger boys were asleep in their bunks.
Damian and I sat on the thin, threadbare carpet by the suffio hearth, sharing a pot of hot coffee. Si had brought the beans with him when he’d arrived. Probably stolen.
“I don’t think less of you.” I took a sip of my pilfered coffee. It tasted just like the regular kind. “Now that I’ve had a moment to think about it, I’m sorry I reacted so …”
Loudly. Wildly. Without restraint? Was this how I always dealt with news I didn’t like—with immediate, self-righteous fury? “I’m sorry I judged you all so quickly. I do hope none of you ever have to steal to survive again, but the truth is, my family’s record isn’t exactly pristine, either.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Sounds like there’s a story I need to hear.”
“It’s not that interesting.”
Damian’s lips tilted up slightly. “Just take my mind off my own shame, would you? Tell me the story.”
“You remember I told you we were in hiding most of our lives?”
Damian nodded. “In the bakery. Right?”
“I suppose that was my first crime—keeping my mother’s secret. She’s an absorbent mage.” I studied the glowing, golden-orange suffio embers in the hearth. “A very absorbent mage. She has the Touch.”
“I’ve heard of her.” He whistled low. “Zel. She’s Draician, right?”
I nodded. “She escaped Draicia when she was my age, desperate to save her babies. She was pregnant with us when she made the journey across the Badlands. She snuck into Asylia and found shelter with a baker in the Merchant Quarter. If the old Asylian king had found her, he would have put her to use the same way her Draician mistress had—as an assassin.”
The frank revelation of my mother’s past made my cheeks heat. I focused on the embers, watching them shift and spark as they heated the cave with magical warmth. “Trackers searched the city for her for years, but they never found her. She would have been safer in the Badlands, but she didn’t want us growing up out here.” I shot him an apologetic glance. “Not that there’s anything wrong with—”
“You already know we nearly starved to death as children. Your mother was right. You were better off in the city.” He cocked his head. “And what was your second crime?”
“Our mother planned to surrender to the authorities. She couldn’t stand the thought that we would always be in danger because of her power, because of the way the city government would inevitably want to use her. She thought if she separated from us—if the authorities never knew we existed—then even if she had to be enslaved, my sister and I would be safe.”
“She was willing to give up her freedom for yours.” Now it was Damian’s turn to stare at the embers. “She loves you. I always wondered what things would have been like if our parents had survived, but …” He shook his head, his gaze wistful. “It doesn’t matter. This is what we got instead.”
“And you and Si did your best with what you had.” I nudged him. “Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but you were children out here alone. You survived.”
A dry smile dashed across his lips. “Let’s get back to your crime.”
“Fine, fine.” I couldn’t help returning his smile. “Mom made a plan. She was determined not to bring us down with her when she surrendered. And that’s crazy—we only survived those thirteen years because of her, because she’s amazing and had a good plan for everything. But I think the guilt of her secret was crushing her. She didn’t want me or my sisters paying for her powers. She couldn’t keep us hidden any longer, but she wanted to be sure we’d make it on our own in the city, without depending on her or Ella. So she trained us.”
“But you were barely more than children.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Like your brothers are now?”
“They have me. And when I was younger, we all had Si. It’s not the same.”
“Well, I had my twin sister. Briar Rose.” My smile faded at the memory of those nights I’d spent on the city rooftops, always petrifi
ed something would happen to Bri. “After thirteen years of hiding in the bakery’s upper room, I was terrified of the outside world. Mom was determined to fix my fear. She would send us out on the rooftops of Asylia every night, each evening with a new task—retrieve this book from the Mage Academy library, retrieve that object from a guarded Procus family compound. I was so frightened I could barely leave our rooftop. Half the time, I only made it one building away. Then I would cower and panic the whole rest of the night. But Bri was fearless.”
“Does she look like you?”
I shook my head. “She looks like our mother—tall, strong, with tan skin and blonde hair. She’s lovely. But she’s also smart and brave, probably the bravest girl on the continent. She’s not afraid of anything. When I was scared, I always knew I could go to her, that I’d be safe with her. We fought, of course, but I knew deep down she’d do anything for me.”
“She sounds like a good sister. I bet you miss her.”
Every day for the last five years. I swallowed. “I have. I mean, I do.
“Si said she helped him kidnap you.” Damian frowned. “Why would she do that?”
They’re coming. “I don’t think she had a choice.” I cringed at the memory of Bri’s black-clad, rag-like body flopping painfully down the steep cliff. Had she thrown herself down the slope on purpose? She hadn’t fought the Masters. She’d gone with them willingly. Why? And why hadn’t she wanted me to heal her after her fall?
The memory of two cold, high voices rang in my ears.
You’re all grown up now, aren’t you, Briar Rose?
The curse will set in any moment now, and I don’t want to carry that dirty bag of bones. She should walk herself back to the crater. It’s only fitting.
I’d been avoiding this memory for four days, and now, it rushed back with excruciating clarity. The warmest suffio ember on the continent couldn’t have eased my chilled bones as I let the truth about my sister sink in.
Briar Rose was cursed.
“I think something is wrong with her,” I answered Damian, afraid to say the real word out loud as I stared into the shimmering suffio embers. “Really, really wrong.”
~
Outside the cave the next afternoon, the forest was quiet.
A pool of rainwater had collected among the rocks near the tunnel entrance. Unable to resist, I checked my reflection in the pool. A halo of tangled, frizzy hair surrounded my head, and the gray dress was embarrassingly crooked. “Most beautiful girl in Asylia, indeed,” I murmured to my disheveled image. Working quickly, I pulled my hair out of its braid, redid the braid as tight as I could, my fingers flying as I yanked the wildest strands back into place. Then I adjusted the plain dress so the neckline was at least somewhat even.
“There.” A strange light flickered across my reflection as a faint, distant whisper reached my ears. I squinted at the puddle. For a moment, the reflection hadn’t looked like mine at all. I glanced over my shoulder, but I was alone in the woods. Even Drew had left me to scavenge for root vegetables around the cave. Who had spoken?
Perhaps I’d simply mumbled under my breath without realizing it.
Feeling silly, I finished adjusting the dress and stepped away from the pool. Too much time alone in the Badlands was affecting my sanity.
I ventured several more steps away from the hidden tunnel entrance, then sat beneath a dry, leafless tree. A freezing wind whipped through the trees, making the dress flutter around my ankles and sending a chill up my legs.
I released a puff of magic to warm my body, tilted my head up, and leaned on the trunk of the tree. The sky was a low, deep gray. Twilight was approaching. The boys would be home from the mine soon, and perhaps Si would return then too. We hadn’t seen him since his angry departure after dinner the previous night.
No doubt they’d berate me for venturing outside the cave alone, but for the moment, as fresh air rushed across my upturned face and magic warmed my body, I didn’t care.
The tree’s dry, scratchy bark poked the back of my neck. Working on instinct, I released another wave of healing magic, this time into the tree. The dying plant drank the magic in thirstily. I paused. I could feel it practically begging me for more.
I leaned away from the tree, turned around, and inspected the trunk. The spot where I’d been leaning was slightly smoother than the rest, and the gray bark had changed to a deep, healthy coffee color. I wasn’t a grower mage, but even I could tell this tree was desperate for magic.
Unable to resist the tree’s hunger, I knelt before the trunk and placed both palms on the tree the way I would on a patient in the hospital. Magic poured through my hands and into the tree. Drawing on what little I remembered from the botany books Mom had made us read while we were holed up in the bakery, I sent magic through the tree, nourishing its roots, trunk, and branches until it would accept no more magic from me.
When the huge cloud of golden sparkles finally dissipated, the entire tree was a healthy, dark brown, and the little green leaves of early spring budded on every branch. I couldn’t help smiling. “There you go, little guy,” I whispered. “I bet that feels better, doesn’t it?”
Something rustled on the ground beside me. A scrawny squirrel with a ragged tail peeked its head around the healthy tree’s trunk. The little animal cocked its head.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I whispered. “Don’t be frightened.” I held out my hand. It was the first living creature I’d seen in this part of the Badlands, besides Si and his brothers. The squirrel crept toward me, its tail shivering. “I’ll help you, little one. Don’t fear.”
I held my breath as it approached with hesitant, shaky steps. When it was crouched trustingly in the palm of my hand, its body painfully lightweight, I released a gentle tide of nourishing magic. “There. Isn’t that better?”
The squirrel’s tail stopped shaking.
“I thought it might—”
“Don’t move, Alba.”
The squirrel froze at the sound of Si’s deep voice.
“Si? What are you doing?” I searched the woods around us until I caught sight of him edging out from behind another tree, his crossbow cocked. “Si!”
The squirrel edged off my palm toward the tree, its movements faltering. No doubt it thought that if I was friendly, perhaps Si was too. Poor, confused creature.
Si pointed his crossbow at the skinny squirrel. “Alba! Hush. I told you not to move.”
“Oh, you monster!” I gave the squirrel a gentle shove, and it darted away behind the tree. “You’re not slaughtering a tiny, starving squirrel when I only just healed it.”
“You healed a squirrel?” Si squinted at me incredulously. “What’s wrong with you?”
I got to my feet and shook the dirt off my skirts. “I’m a healer,” I ground out. “Nothing is wrong with me. That’s just who I am.”
“Spoken like a true city girl.” His eyes were oddly bloodshot. When had Si last slept?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can cuddle the local wildlife instead of hunting it because you don’t have any hungry little boys waiting for you back at home!” He reached over his shoulder and flung a heavy canvas to the ground. It unfurled on impact, revealing three scrawny, dead rabbits and a small, lifeless deer.
Oh. He’d been hunting all this time. How far had he journeyed last night to find game when his brothers hadn’t been able to find any near the mine?
“I don’t—” I sputtered. “I can’t—”
“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like. I get it. Just try to keep your judgment to yourself, would you? No one is counting on you.” He ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. “You just don’t know what it’s like,” he repeated. “And that’s that.”
I’m a healer. Nothing is wrong with me. That’s just who I am.
I bit my lip and approached him slowly, edging around the bloodied canvas that held his hard-won game. I’m a healer. It was true, wasn’t it? I wasn’t the most beautiful g
irl in Asylia anymore. Out here in the Badlands, my only admirer was a six-year-old boy who had me confused with a heroine in a fairy tale novel. Even if I made it back to the city, I couldn’t imagine resuming the frivolous, flirtatious life I’d lost.
I thought of the way the locket had warmed then cooled a dozen times on my walk through the Mage Market. What was my beauty worth when it couldn’t even bring me true love—when, in fact, it might have been the source of my ruin?
Everything I’d ever counted on had failed me, but I was still a healer. That would never change.
I stopped in front of Si. “You’re a good brother.” I brushed a hand along his cheek, sending a probe of investigating magic through his body. The injured leg I’d healed was doing well, but he was worn down by exhaustion, hunger, and thirst. He must have traveled an inhuman distance to find meat for his starving brothers.
“What are you doing?” His voice was gruff, his gaze searching.
“Shh.” I sent a stronger wave of magic from my skin into his to ease the soreness in his muscles and joints. “I’m healing you. Not everything requires an argument, you know.”
“I could say the same thing to you.” The words softened even as he spoke them. His eyes drifted shut, and his guarded expression relaxed into one that almost resembled peace.
I kept up the steady flow of magic, nourishing every ache, pain, and deficiency I could find. When I’d finished, I let my hand drop to my side. “You’ll still need to eat and drink soon.” I shifted, suddenly feeling awkward at how close I stood to him. “I know you don’t like victus, but it is quite nourishing. It will give you the energy you need if you plan to hunt again. And you’ll need to get some sleep before you go out. At least four hours, continuous. Understand?”
“Mm-hmm.” He opened his eyes, but his gaze remained heavy-lidded, his focus locked on my face. “You should know that every time you heal me, I want to kiss you.”
I blinked. “What?”
His mouth twitched, like he was holding back a smile. “You heard me.”