The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness) (19 page)

"What about Peree?"

"The Lofties are meeting us at the caves."

"I need to stop by our shelter for a few things," I whisper. I planned to pack earlier, not knowing I would spend the day hiding out, pretending to be insane.

He changes course silently. We inch the door open and file inside. Eland stops so suddenly, I run into him.

"Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"Cal, what are you doing here?" Bear keeps his voice pitched low.

"I wanted to see you before you left." Calli's good humor, the byproduct of being Fox's daughter, is nowhere to be heard. She sounds deflated. "I went to Marj's shelter to check on you, but she wouldn't let me in, so I came here to wait instead."

I can't help it; I have to ask. "Does your father know we're leaving tonight?"

"It wasn't that hard for me to figure out tonight was the night. The Three may know, too."

Bear swears under his breath. "Wish you'd told me that earlier."

"Would it have changed your minds?"

I let out a long breath, trying to control my spiking heart rate. It doesn’t help the slow throb in my head. "Probably not."

"So you are going then."

"Yeah, we're going," Eland says. He sounds determined, steady. It gives me courage.

"Come with us," I plead.

"I can't."

It feels like an impassable trench yawns between Calli and me. We shared everything as children. Every adventure, every bit of mischief, every terror, every hope—until the day I became the Water Bearer. Then it all seemed to change.

My childhood is a lump of wet sand in my fist—rough and a little misshapen, but easy to grasp. Becoming the Water Bearer was like thrusting that fist underwater. All the individual grains of sand that made up my life slipped, slid, separated, and washed away, until what was left was only the hope of a new life somewhere else. A life I can mold and shape myself.

"We have to get to the caves now," Bear says.

"I'll walk with you," Calli says.

I move around our shelter as quickly as I can, gathering the few items I can't leave behind. Extra clothes for Eland and me go into a pack, and an old doll of mine, sadly neglected, for Kora. Now her doll, Bega, will have a friend to gossip with. I add the rabbit’s foot Bear gave me for luck my first day as the Water Bearer and the scrap of fabric I stitched a bear on for him. I have Peree's knife in my pocket, as always. Eland gathers his arsenal: his still-uninitiated hunting knife and the bow he made with Peree. They never had the chance to make arrows for it, but there will be plenty of time for that in Koolkuna.

Finally, I grab Aloe's walking stick where she always left it at night, propped in the corner by her sleeping pallet. I've never wanted to use a stick—I have too much stupid pride. But it was so much a part of her that I can't bear to leave it behind. Leather strips twine over and around the top of the stick. I wish, as always, that the hands that wore them smooth with use were here to guide us now.

“I’ll take it,” Eland says somberly. I hand it to him.

Shouldering our bag, I pull him to me. We whisper our goodbyes to the home we shared with our mother. Her strong spirit and the fading ghosts of our childhoods draw close, making us shiver.

We follow Bear through the woods to the mouth of the caves, avoiding the path in case a guard is watching. We keep to the shadows. I hold Calli's hand, determined to maintain the connection between us for as long as I can. The night is cooler than it's been in many moons. The birds are silent in the trees, but I hear muted voices as we approach the cave mouth.

When I pick out Peree's musical voice, I run to him and he catches me. He gathers my tangled, wild hair behind me and covers my face with kisses. I wish we had a little more time and a little less of an audience.

The rest of the Lofty group is here, too. Frost's voice mingles quietly with the others. I wonder what she'll do when she finds out Moray and his brothers are no longer invited to come along. At least Koolkuna will be a safe place to raise her child, and she's definitely better off without him.

"Fennel, finally," a rapid-fire female voice whispers—Moon. She sounds relieved. "We were a little worried you weren't well enough, although Bear promised us he’d get you here.”

I blink.
He did?
Since when were Bear and the Lofties on speaking terms?

Moon’s still talking. “Peree was starting to pace and get that ferocious look he gets. That's never a good sign, is it, Petrel? How are you, Eland? Thrush is here, ready to compare bows and knives and arrows and whatever other weapons he could find. Thrush! Put that down!"

I'm a little breathless just listening to her. "How are you feeling, Moon?"

"Huge. Ready to have this hatchling." She hugs me, and I jump as the baby kicks us both, probably annoyed at being squashed. Moon groans. "If he kicks me in the spine one more time, I think it's entirely possible he'll break me in half."

Petrel touches my back. "I'm glad you're all right, Fennel." He sounds tense.

"We'd better get moving," Bear says. "Too many people here. Too loud."

"Agreed," Peree says.

I grope behind me, searching for Calli. I put her hand in Peree’s. "Peree, this is Calli. I really wanted you to meet her."

She says hello, sounding embarrassed, probably remembering all the times she avoided Peree when he was on the ground. I try to forget that now. I want to leave the bad memories behind as much as I can.

"I wish you'd come with us,” Peree says. “Fenn will miss you."

"And I wish she'd stay,” Calli says. “But she'd miss
you
more, and I'd rather she be happy.”

I find the familiar features of her face. Her smile wobbles and threatens to fall.

"I love you," I tell her. "You'll always be with me, wherever that may be." She kisses my cheek, and we hold each other. For the second time in the last few hours, I cry.

"No hugs or tears for us, boys. As usual."

My hands curl into fists when I hear Moray's voice. Peree and Bear make almost identical sounds of wrath. It would be funny if I weren’t so angry myself. Even Calli bristles. She and Eland step closer to me. My friends create a physical barrier around me.

"What do you think you're doing here?" My voice is as sharp as the blade of Peree's knife in my pocket. The knife I fully intend to
really
use on Moray if he comes any closer.

"Going to Koolkuna. I'm hurt you didn't let me know the plan for meeting, Fenn. I had to send Cuda and Conda to stake out the caves."

"I thought after almost killing me you'd sort of get it through your thick skull that you and your brothers aren't welcome!"

"What are you going on about? I didn't give you enough poison to kill you, only enough to make you—you know—go a little out of your head for awhile. Now look at you with all your people around. It's touching." He sounds as genuinely contemptuous as always, but no more sinister.

"So it
was
you that poisoned her," Bear hisses. He calls Moray a string of names, most of which I agree with.

"Had to," Moray says. "Thistle was on to me. If I hadn't poisoned Fennel, she would've stuck to me and the boys like tree sap all day. Couldn't have that when I was trying to get the last of the supplies pulled together. I thought I was doing you a favor. Did your work for you while you had a nice rest up in Marj's shelter."

"A favor?" I hiss. "I was out of my mind for hours!"

"Better than dead." He pauses. "And dead is what Thistle and her friends had in mind for you, if I hadn't slipped you the banewort."

Her friends?

"Marj was right," Eland whispered behind me. "About the banewort."

"Stay behind us," I mutter to him.

"Face it, sweetheart," Moray says. "If I hadn't tried to kill you, you'd be dead right now."

I try to wrap my mind around that bit of Moray-esque logic. I'm not terribly surprised he was responsible for the poison, or that Thistle hated me enough to try to kill me . . . but who was Thistle in cahoots with?

Calli stiffens at my side.

"What is it?" I ask. Then I hear approaching footsteps.

"What's going on here?" a voice calls out. It's Fox, and he's not alone.

"Calli?" Acacia shouts anxiously.

"I'm just . . . I'm . . ." Calli's voice has a desperate edge to it. She probably doesn't want to give us away to her parents.

"She's only here to say goodbye,” I tell Fox and Acacia. “We're leaving. Please don't try to stop us." Peree takes my hand, supporting me. My chin lifts a notch.

"We have to try to stop you, Fennel," Pinion says. "Of course we do."

I curse to myself. I thought it was only Fox and Acacia, but the Three must all be here. And there are other Groundlings with them. I hear their voices and footfalls now.

"Calli, come here," Acacia pleads.

"Let her be, Cacia. She's not going anywhere. Groundlings, listen to us," Fox says. "You don't know exactly how to get where you're going. You don't know what you might encounter along the way. And with apologies to Fennel and Peree, you don't know what kind of reception you'll get when—if—you arrive."

I snort defiantly. Doesn't that describe pretty much every day of our lives?

Bream speaks. His voice finds its usual monotonous rhythm, as if settling in for a long, hard march. Or maybe that's just how it feels to listen to him. "There are many accounts of Groundlings who tried to find a way to the source of the Hidden Waters, only to never be seen again. The last time a group of this size went to find a new place to call home, it left the community in shambles. Three generations were required to build back up to the numbers they had before the group left. The people who left were consumed by the flesh-eaters. Furthermore, history tells us—"

Pinion interrupts him. "What Bream is trying to say . . . I think . . . is that this community may not survive the loss of your departure. Vole and Bear, who will take over the repairs of our structures and the creation of new shelters if you go? Ivy, who will watch over the little ones? Fennel, who will collect the water when the Scourge comes? Have you thought of that?"

Of course I’ve thought of that.
“No one has to stay here. We wanted you
all
to come with us. You made the choice to stay. And you don't need me—the creatures are sick, not dangerous." I wish I didn't sound so defensive.

"So you say." Pinion says. "But if you really believe that, why were you so terrified when you believed the flesh eaters had come today?”

I chew on my lip. She’s right. If I'm really honest with myself, a large part of me still believes the Scourge
is
dangerous. I wish I didn't, but there it is.

Pinion presses her point with the group. "You're following two young people on the basis of some tall tales—stories they clearly have trouble believing themselves. Are you sure you want to risk your lives, and the lives of your children, in this way?"

"Between the Scourge and the Lofties," Vole says, "we risk our lives every day staying here in the forest! What's the difference?"

"Are you comparing us to the fleshies?" a Lofty retorts. "That's rich. We could say the same of you."

A few people in our group shout at each other. My stomach clenches; the feeling in the clearing is so similar to the morning of the Reckoning. Peree lets go of my hand and pulls his bow off his back. I lay a cautioning hand on his arm.

Fox speaks up. "We received explicit warning, passed from Councils before us, not to leave our part of the forest. They said there are things—people—beyond our borders that are worse than the Scourge. It’s why our ancestors settled here, so far from the City where the Scourge originated. Our lives here might not be perfect, but we have persisted and found ways to survive. If we leave, that may no longer be true. Aloe herself cautioned me about this, Fennel."

I frown. What did the past Councils know that we don’t? What did Aloe know that she’d never be able to tell me?

The scent of rosemary—Aloe’s scent—drifts to me on the cool evening breeze. And with it, a moment of relief and confidence, like pushing through unfamiliar vegetation in the forest and finding I was on the right path after all. I can almost feel her touch on my arm now, telling me she's with me. Telling me to trust myself.

"I think if my mother was still alive, and she heard about what we experienced in Koolkuna, she would have changed her mind. Aloe believed we should all do our duties to the best of our abilities. But I think she also understood that sometimes the right path is the one you're told not to take."

Peree speaks. "The people gathered here have chosen to leave. What does it say about life in our community if this many people are willing to follow us into the unknown?" He raises his voice. "Lofties and Groundlings, Fennel and I will take you to Koolkuna. We know the way. But anyone who’s changed their mind is free to stay." He pauses. A few people mutter and shuffle, but no one speaks out. "Groundling Council of Three, our group intends to leave. Will you let us go?"

"I'll tell you what we won't do," Fox says.

I wait, my body tingling, all of my muscles tensed. I'm torn by the conflicting desires to run and to stand my ground and fight for what I believe to be the right choice for my family and me.

"Adder and the last Council chose the path of violence," Fox says. "I have many faults, but the inability to learn from mistakes—my own and others’—isn’t one of them."

I release the breath I was holding. Based on the exclamations around me, I wasn't the only one relieved by Fox's words.

"We came," he continues, "hoping to change your minds. We wanted to convince you to reconsider your decision. But we won’t force you to stay."

Calli runs to her father. From the grunt I hear, she must have practically knocked him off his feet.

"Thank you, Fox." My voice wavers. "We didn't want to sneak away like this. But talking didn't seem to be getting us anywhere. And it was becoming too dangerous to stay."

"I know," he says. "What happened today convinced me that the path we were on was wrong for many reasons. But are you all positive that leaving is what you want to do?"