The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella (2 page)

 
stay hidden inside
my hogan all day, tucked under my blankets, ignoring my chores and wallowing in
my own grief. I don’t know which emotion plagues me more strongly: sadness or
fear.

           
Or anger.

           
I am sad,
no doubt. I grieve for my friends—all of them. And Mona?

           
I’ve
struggled long and hard over my feelings concerning Mona. I have never felt the
blatant disregard for her authority that Kate expressed. In fact, I admired
Mona in many ways. She was strong and loyal to the Village. She kept us safe. I
was perfectly happy to follow the rules—content even. Mona never gave me a
second glance; I was obedient to a fault. She was chosen to lead us; there was
no reason to fight against it. Fate cannot be challenged. Nor should it be. It
was all that simple.

           
I bite my
lip as I think of it. Here, Kate and I differed in every respect, yet I did not
understand how much so until Kate’s celebration. For the first time, looking so
beautiful in her white sarong at the head table, I saw the true fight in my
friend.
 

           
I was
angry with her often after this—even going so far as to report in to Mona when
I felt Kate had crossed yet another line. But I was justified in doing so. At
least, I thought so at the time.

           
What I
truly wanted was Kate—my Kate, who shared a mat with me in the nursery. I
missed that Kate—the one who couldn’t care less about a rebellion.

           
I sigh
and roll over to face the wall. Mona’s death saddens me, but my fear?

           
My fear
lies in my uncertainty. I dread the thought of not knowing what is coming with
Mona gone. Of how different the Village might become because a young girl took
the life of its leader—something that has never occurred before in all of our
history.

           
What
could it mean?

           
A shudder
explodes through me, and I untangle myself from my blankets and struggle to my
feet.

           
Tara
has taken temporary charge of the Village while the Council convenes to make
the hard decisions left for them by Kate’s absence. Another characteristic of
our history: We have never been without a leader, and frankly, the women are
restless, unsure of what they should do in the interim. Kate’s departure has
left an uncertain pall hanging over our heads. I can feel it in the air.

           
I’m
pacing—a common habit for me—and I force myself to a halt, wringing my hands.
 
I have nobody—no one left to confide in—and the
idea of how alone I am consumes me for a moment.

           
In the
midst of it, my mate’s face clouds my mind, and I involuntarily sigh. I still
have that.

           
Without
another thought, I throw a thin shawl over my shoulders and slip outside.

           
It’s late
afternoon. Several of the women are making preparations for the evening meal.
They squat on their doorsteps, cutting vegetables, skinning rabbit for a stew.
They speak softly, their tones emotionless, and I sense the same numbness in
them that I have felt since Mona’s death. But Daija pauses in skinning a rabbit
and lifts her head, and her features change drastically when she sees me. I
detect hatred in her eyes, and for a moment, I’m struck with alarm. Is that
look meant for me? A shock crashes through my bones when she speaks.

           
“So you’ve
decided to crawl out of your hole, have you?”

           
Her hard
gaze freezes me in place. Gina and Ash stop their work to listen, a gleam of
humor in their eyes. Three hogans over, Blaer emerges, thinks better of it, and
pauses to hover in the arch of her doorway out of sight.
 

           
“Little
Mia.” Daija rises to her feet, rabbit blood dripping from the ends of her
fingertips. “Where are you headed? A secret rendezvous with Kate to see what
other havoc you can wreak?”
 

           
I take a
surprised backward step, my eyes darting toward the other two. They don’t move,
waiting. Several women pause in their dinner preparations to watch. I refocus
on Daija’s ugly face.

           
“Where is
she hiding? Perhaps I’ll follow you and kill her myself.”

           
Fear
mounts. I don’t want any trouble with the hunter. Avoiding her eyes, I make a
move to pass by, but her quick fingers grasp my elbow in a bloody grip. Ash
rises, her long, thin legs unfolding beneath her. She moves to my other side,
leaning in close to my ear.

           
“We’re
watching you,” she whispers. “Mona will be avenged.”

           
Gina
keeps her place without a word. She runs a rock dramatically across the edge of
an arrow point.

           
I yank
free from Daija’s slippery hold and shove past Ash. Their laughter bounces off
my back as I stumble up the path. I catch Blaer’s eye just before she
withdraws, leaving only a few bamboo leaves stirring as an indication that she
was there at all.

           
On the
outskirts of the Village, I pause against a tree, looking over my shoulder with
apprehension. They haven’t followed.

           
“Breathe
Mia,” I whisper. I bend, my hands against my knees as my nerves roil. “They’re
nothing to you.”

           
I huff
with exasperation, reminding myself that Daija is a tyrant who takes every
opportunity to intimidate, and Ash and Gina are her shadows. More than likely she
means none of what she says. She toys with me to put me on edge. I had nothing
to do with Mona’s death, and they will gain very little ground by harassing me
over Kate’s whereabouts. Foolish girls!

           
Below, the
Pit is quiet. At the edge, I spot a silent fire pit, a shining clump of metal
cages, and of course, a wide, crimson stain spreading out across the dust. I
shudder.

           
It took
some time for the truth of Mona’s death to reach every one of us. Rumors flew,
but soon we all knew Kate had pushed her. And in the process, the dog had
fallen, too.

           
An anger
pierces me, deepening the red stain in my vision. I can’t help but to lay some
of the blame on him. He changed Kate—made her feel things. Discontentment with
this life. Affections for him.

           
I saw him
only twice, but I remember both times well. Blond hair curling out in a mess all
over the top of his head and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that stole
Kate’s heart and disappeared with it over the mountain. After him, she wasn’t
the same.

           
I angrily
shove away the tear that appears and scramble over the top of the ladder. I would
be glad for his death if it had returned things to the way they’d been. But it
didn’t. He should have kept her heart and stayed away.
 

           
The
ladder rattles against the inside of the Pit as I make my way down.

           
I haven’t
been back since the day Kate left, and the Pit is uncharacteristically and
eerily deserted. I’m not surprised. All of the breeders were given a reprieve
to mourn Mona’s death, and most have taken advantage of it. Still, an
uneasiness creeps in on me at the stillness.

           
The metal
cages loom ahead, standing tall and erect in the very center of the area, and memories
sweep in on me. The morning they’d been constructed, I’d shirked my duties, and
Chad
and I had
watched from his cave. A few days later, Ian and his friends were imprisoned,
and I began to believe Kate’s story of another village. I’d found Kate near the
Pit in the bushes with one of them. After this, everything had exploded.

           
We’re
still wading through the aftermath.
       

           
I pass behind
the barracks to move down a row of cells. Usually, I find a jailer quickly, but
today, even they seem to have abandoned their posts to mourn. I pause outside
the cave and peer through the gate.

           
“
Chad
?”

           
He’s
there instantly. His light, brown eyes pierce me, intense as always.

           
“I didn’t
see any jailers,” I say.

           
“You
don’t need one.” He lowers his eyes, indicating the large, wooden lock, and I
follow his gaze. “It’s broken.”

           
Confused,
I pull. The gate moves outward. I stand in the doorway and stare at him.

           
“What is
this?”

           
He
shrugs. “I don’t know. When I woke up a few days ago, it was like this.”

I stare for a minute longer
before I sweep my eyes along the long row of caves to my left. It isn’t hard to
see that every lock is broken.

           
“Do you
have any food?”
Chad
pulls my attention back to him. “I haven’t eaten today.”

           
I frown. “Why?”

           
“Because
no one brought food,” he answers matter-of-factly.

           
I study
him. He’s dirty, a streak of brown crusting out across his cheek. His hands are
covered with dust, the nails caked with grime. He keeps his eyes pinned on me.

           
“The
jailers haven’t fed you today?”

           
“No.”
 
A kind of fevered desperation crosses his face
“Will you bring me something?”

           
I nod, at
a complete loss. His shoulders slump with relief. The gate clatters when I
release it. I pause as the latch falls into place against the splintered wood,
and I peer at the bars more confused than ever. “Should I try to lock this
somehow?”

           
Chad
shrugs. “Does it matter?”

           
One
simple question.

           
Thoughtful,
I turn away, and this time, I pay particular attention to the other caves as I
pass by. One male after another raises his eyes to watch me. I don’t allow
myself to linger long on their dirty, scruffy faces, and a slight panic edges
into my gut. These males are just one gate away from freedom. One gate away from
confronting me face to face. And what’s to stop them?

           
Chad
does not scare me. Of course, I’ve learned enough to know I don’t need to fear
him. But these strange males? What might they do with their freedom? This
thought increases my fear, and I pick up my pace, scanning for a jailer.

           
When I
reach the main door of the barracks, it is not only unlocked but ajar. I pause
for a moment, my fingertips pressed against it before I hesitantly ease it
further open.

           
“Hello?”

           
No
answer. I frown. Something isn’t right here.

           
I pull
the door wide and step into a common area. One wall holds a line of shelves
stocked with containers of dried meat, some boiled eggs, a jar of water, and a
half-eaten loaf of very stale bread. I spin in a slow circle, taking in the
room. It’s small with hard wood floors. I don’t know what I expected, but it’s
surprisingly clean. On another shelf bowls and cups are stacked neatly, and a
table in the center is polished to brightness. I take a container of meat, a
few eggs, and the water.

           
A door at
the far end suddenly bursts open, and a very surprised jailer halts in the
doorway, shock lighting her eyes.

           
“What in the
name of the stars are you doing in here, girl?” The jailer moves forward.
“Stealing?”

           
I freeze,
my fingers tightening around the smooth shell of an egg I’ve just selected.
Quickly I slip it into my pouch.

           
“No—” I
begin. She yanks the container of meat from my grip and moves in for the jar of
water tucked under my arm. “My mate,” I say hurriedly. “He hasn’t eaten today.”

           
She
pauses, her rude eyes narrowing. “And since when do his needs matter to you? It
is not your duty to provide for him.”

           
“I know,
but—”

           
She cuts
me off with a sharp tug on the jar. It slips free.
 

           
“Are you
one of them, then?”

           
“What?”

           
She
sneers at me. “One of those who’s decided her place isn’t good enough.”

           
I shake
my head, baffled. “No. I just—”

           
“A
rebel?” The name is an ugly word on her tongue.

           
“No,” I
shake my head again. “My mate is hungry, and I said I would bring him something
to eat. Nothing more.”

           
The anger
in her eyes deepens, and she takes another step closer to peer down at me. Suddenly
small and frightened, I shrink beneath her heavy glare.