Thorns (10 page)

If we needed the horses, then we were going deep into the Frost. Nervousness prickled me, but I held my tongue. I knew he wouldn’t tell me more, and I wanted to prove I could follow orders without demanding answers at every turn.

I climbed back up the ladder, and Adam followed with the lantern. When I reached the top, I dragged myself out with my forearms and climbed to my feet. I scanned the woods for any signs of Watchers. Nothing. The forest had turned gray, and pink streaked the sky. The icy terror that flavored the night had faded to the quiet ominousness of day.

“I’ll see you soon, Lia Weaver,” he said.

I STEPPED INSIDE the farmhouse and hung my cloak on the hook. A sigh slipped from my lips as I chaffed my frozen fingers together and stepped toward the kitchen. I’d done it. I’d survived the Frost alone in the dark and proved I was brave enough to be a part of the Thorns. Now I just needed to make some tea and warm myself up before Jonn and Ivy woke—

“
Lia
.”

My sister’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

I spun on my heel and came face to face with my little Ivy. She stood in the entrance to the great room, her arms crossed over her chest and her fingers tapping against her elbows.

“You’re awake,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant as I smoothed down my wet clothes and cleared my throat. “I just came in. Are you hungry?”

“We know you didn’t just get back from the barn.”

“What?”

I lifted my gaze from Ivy’s livid expression and saw Jonn sitting in his chair by the fire, his somber face in profile. The flames flickered over his forehead and freckled cheeks and made his red-brown hair gleam. When he turned his head, I saw his disappointment clearly in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. For once, he just sat there as Ivy railed.

“Yes. We know you went out,” my sister yelled. “How could you?”

“Ivy—”

“How could you get involved without telling us? How could you keep this a secret?”

“Ivy,” I said again, louder this time, “you may not understand now, but—”

“The Blackcoats would accept us all, Lia, and you know it.”

Blackcoats
? I froze, and my voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “How do you know about them? Who have you been talking to?”

She blinked. The anger in my voice seemed to have startled her, and suddenly she was defensive and uncertain as she stammered a reply. “I’ve heard things in the village. People are whispering. They’re going to free us. And—and I want to help, too.”

“I’m not helping the Blackcoats,” I said firmly. “I don’t agree with their ideas or their methods.”

“They’re fighting for our freedom!”

“Ivy,” I snapped. “They want to hurt Ann, and they would have wanted to hurt Gabe. They hate all Farthers, not just the ones like Officer Raine, and I can’t accept that. I can’t work with them. And that’s all I want to say about it.”

“But…”

“They threatened me. They
left us a threatening note
,” I said.

Her mouth clamped shut at that. Jonn straightened. “What note?”

“Never mind,” I said. “Forget it.”

Ivy looked from me to Jonn, who was staring at me with a look of silent fury. “If you aren’t working with the Blackcoats…?”

“It’s the Thorns,” he said quietly, speaking for me.

“Like Ma and Da,” I said, desperate for them to understand. “I know it’s dangerous, but I have to do this. There were children in the woods yesterday, fugitives from Aeralis. I can’t turn these people away. I just can’t.”

“We know that, silly,” she said. “Of course you have to do this. Of course we have to help them. So do we.”

“No,” I said sharply. I thought of Raine and the words I’d overheard him screaming at Ann’s house.
If I find out any person in this village has been helping anyone who opposes me, I’ll hang them from the highest tree in the Frost. Do you understand
? “It’s too dangerous. Only I can do this.”

Jonn shook his head at me. Our gazes held, and I felt the ache of his disappointment knife through me. But I wasn’t going to back down. This was not a game. This was life and death.

“Lia?” Ivy snapped. “I want to join the Thorns, too.”

“Don’t be absurd,” I said, still holding Jonn’s gaze and trying to communicate the necessity of what I must do alone to him. “You’re a child.”

“I’m fourteen,” she said. “Close to fifteen. I’m ready!”

“Absolutely not,” I said.

“Lia’s right,” my brother said, surprising me with his show of solidarity. “You’re too young.” Then he pinned me with another look.

His meaning was clear. We were the same age.

“Jonn,” I said, exasperated, “how are you supposed to help me if you can’t walk more than two steps?”

His expression didn’t change, but I saw the light in his eyes wither and immediately I hated myself. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

He picked up a ball of half-rolled yarn from the basket by the fire and began winding it around his hand, and I felt the breech between us like a knife.

“Ivy,” I said without looking at her, “please go milk the cow. I haven’t done it yet.”

“I don’t—”

“
Ivy
.”

She went, slamming the door behind her.

The air in the room felt too hot. Jonn wouldn’t look at me. I crossed the floor to stand in front of him, but he kept winding the yarn, methodical in his movements.

“I didn’t mean it.”

He laughed, low and bitter. “Yes, you did.”

“It came out wrong.”

“You said what you meant.”

A headache began to creep up the back of my skull. My voice was somewhere between a sigh and a plea. “You have to understand. What I’m doing is very dangerous. There’s no way Ivy can do this.”

He tipped his head to the side, his lips pulling down in a scowl. “Of course not,” he said. “She’s too little, like we both said. But
I
could help you.”

I rubbed my hands over my eyes with a groan. I wasn’t going to allow him to risk himself. “This isn’t about playing music or telling riddles. This is life or death, and—”

“You didn’t even tell me about that threatening note you got.”

“Jonn…”

“Forget it.” He yanked at the yarn in a rare show of frustration. I flinched.

“Let’s not—”

“I said forget it.”

I stood there another moment, my hands dangling uselessly at my sides and my mouth full of words that suddenly felt sharp and hurtful and ugly no matter how true they might be. Fighting with him felt wrong, like an ill-fitting garment that I’d put on by mistake. Usually we were so in sync, bound together by blood and friendship.

I strode to the door and yanked it open. My brother didn’t turn or speak as I went out into the snow.

~

My sister was dumping a bucket of water into the horses’ trough when I entered the barn. She didn’t look up.

“Ivy?”

“I just want to help,” she muttered without turning around. “And if you tell me I can help by working on quota, so help me…”

I leaned against the stall door beside her and put my hand on her arm. I tried to say it the way our mother would—sort of soft and gentle, but firm at the same time. “Please, Ivy. Try to understand.”

She spun away from me. “You were mean to Jonn.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

She stormed out, slamming the barn door behind her, and the silence felt empty after she’d gone.

I sighed and stared helplessly at the barn around me, and then I trudged back to the house. I had to take the quota into the village.

~

The villagers milled about with the quota, but everyone was quiet. The missing men had not been recovered.

I looked at the wall where the message had been written, but fresh whitewash covered the spot. I bit my lip.

“Lia,” Ann said from behind me, and I slowed so she could catch up.

“The men still haven’t been found?”

“No,” Ann whispered. “And Raine is furious. He is blaming the village. He says he wants to know who wrote the message on the wall, but no one will come forward or name any names.”

If he got any names, those people would be killed. I shuddered.

A Farther soldier’s gaze slid over us as we entered the quota yard and joined the end of the long line, and I shivered under his scrutiny. Were they looking for members of the Blackcoats? After a moment, he averted his gaze. I let out my breath slowly. Beside me, Ann’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if she’d found the soldier’s gaze just as nerve-racking.

The line crept forward a few inches as another villager received his allotment of salt, sugar, and other foodstuffs, and then scurried home. Ann and I shuffled forward with the rest.

“How are Everiss and her family?” I kept my voice low as I eyed the Farther soldier standing guard beside the quota master. What did the Farthers think we were going to do, riot? These little shows of power disgusted me almost as much as they frightened me.

Ann didn’t immediately reply. She seemed deep in thought, her eyes unfocused and her lips pressed together tightly. I nudged her, and she sighed, blinked, and gave me a tight little smile she’d learned from her father. “Another family took them in temporarily, although I don’t know what they’ll do. She has three younger sisters. But she won’t say much to me or anyone. She’s been keeping to herself. I heard the soldiers have been harassing her.”

“What happened to their home?”

Ann looked away. “Officer Raine uses it now. The Dyers were nicely situated.”

The pieces fell into place. A manufactured story for a land grab. I bit my lip to keep from shouting, and I tasted blood. Ann put a hand on my arm.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “It won’t help anything if you make a scene.”

I shivered with rage, but stayed silent.

My gaze cut to the soldier standing at the front of the line again. He was thin and sharp-faced, and his expression was mask-like as he stared at the villagers stepping past him to receive supplies. If I hadn’t already known other Farthers, kind ones like Gabe, I’d think every single one was a devil in human form.

The line moved again. We were almost to the front of the yard now, and the platform loomed before us. The soldier at the front leered at Ann. “Too bad your quota isn’t keeping me company,” he called out.

She ignored him, but two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks. I simmered with silent rage, but Ann tugged me forward as the line moved again. I was next.

The quota master was fumbling with his list, looking for my name. I tapped my foot on the ground. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I was going to explode.

“Girl,” the soldier said again to Ann.

She turned her head as if checking the sky for signs of snow. The Farther soldier didn’t like being ignored. He reached for Ann’s sleeve.

I didn’t think, I exploded. I swung a fist at his face.

“Lia!”

Ann grabbed my arm. My hand stopped an inch before the Farther’s nose. The soldier drew his gun. The quota master was shouting something.

The soldier grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me to the ground.

I lay still, the icy dirt cutting into my cheek where I lay. My skin felt too hot, and my heart was pounding a call to war in my chest. My head ached from striking the ground.

Ann was speaking low and fast above me, but I couldn’t make out the words. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the soldier holster his weapon. Ann crouched and pulled me up.

“Just give the quota master your yarn and let’s go,” she said.

I looked at the soldier. His eyes bore into mine, and they promised violence. Grabbing my sack, I handed it to the quota master and accepted the supplies in return. Shame burned like a hot coal against my skin. My lungs hurt. I struggled to draw breath.

Ann put an arm around me and half-dragged me from the yard.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded as soon as we’d stepped into the street. “Are you insane?” Blood flushed her cheeks and made her eyes feverishly bright. She grabbed my arms and shook me. “He could have hurt you.”

“He tried to grab you!” I exploded.

“They’re all talk.”

“How dare these Farthers come into our town, harass our people, steal our land and our houses—”

“Lia,” Ann said sharply. “Let it go. If you get angry, you’ll become a target. You don’t want that. Now come on, let’s just go before he bothers us again.” She turned toward the Assembly Hall.

I was rooted to the ground. My righteous anger blazed inside me like a white-hot flame. “So you’re just going to do nothing? Sit back and let them stomp all over us like this?”

Ann’s shoulders scrunched up, and she swung back around. Her eyes were two shards of blazing color in her white face. “What can I do? What can any of us do? They are bigger and stronger, and they have guns. We are
helpless
against them.”

I let my breath out in a huff. I couldn’t tell her anything about the Thorns, and the thought dug into me like Watcher claws. I wanted to scream with frustration.

“Come on,” she said, softening. She grabbed my sleeve and tugged me down an alley between two stone shops with icicles hanging from their roofs. “You can’t let them see you like this.”

I took a deep breath. My frustration hissed in my veins like steam, but I struggled to suppress it. She was right. I had to be calm. What was happening to me? I used to be so unemotional, so strong and hard and ruthless in my decisions. Now I felt like a pot about to boil over, my emotions and feelings in constant turmoil, barely contained. Was this what love had done to me? Had my feelings for the Farther begun an infection of my emotions?

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “You’re right. That was stupid of me.”

“Very stupid,” Ann agreed, but I heard the forgiveness in her voice.

“Ann? Lia?”

We both turned at the softly uttered exclamation and saw a girl with wispy brown curls and big gray eyes staring at us from the end of the alley. I recognized her—one of Everiss’s younger sisters, Jullia. Her chapped, red fingers matched the skin around her eyes. A ragged scarf clung to her neck, the ends blowing in the wind, and she plucked at it nervously.