The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella (6 page)

           
He jokes,
and it’s sweet. But heat rises, sliding up my neck and into my cheeks. In the
light of day, I’m suddenly very aware of my recent behavior in this cave, and
guilt nags at me. My gaze settles on
Chad
,
and the warmth in his eyes draws me. My heart thumps; he blinks once. I clear
my throat and look away.

           
“I saw
the Village physician,” I say, my eyes on the gate. “She says I’m not sick.”

           
“That’s
good.” He takes a long swig of the water, lowers the cup, and looks at me. “That
means you can kiss me again.”

           
Something
catches in my throat, and I am very still beside him. He’s different today.
Full of teasing confidence. After a moment, I shake my head.

           
“
Chad
,
stop talking like this.”

           
“Why?”

           
“Because…
it’s strange.” After a moment, I add. “And there won’t be another kiss.”

           
His brows
push together. “Why not?”

           
“Because
I never should have let it happen. It’s not common.”

           
“It
should be common.” His eyes burn into me. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever felt.”

           
Me too.
 
I catch the thought before it becomes words.

           
“I had a
dream about you after you left this morning,” he adds. “And you did kiss me
again.” He grins, then changes the subject. “The gate is still unlocked.”

           
He takes
another bite and sweeps his eyes toward the bamboo bars, and my eyes follow. A
wind burst suddenly rattles the gate. It eases open slightly and clatters shut
again.
 
 
 

           
I watch
Chad
eat. He looks nice today. Handsome. Especially since his recent bath and shave.
His jawline smoothes into a thick neck, and the defining muscles of his
shoulders and upper arms have grown more prevalent with his exercises. He looks
strong. Without thinking, I reach a hand toward his arm. My fingers graze the
bicep. He looks at me.

           
“What
else do you dream of… besides me?”

           
 
His eyes flick slightly and then fill with
intensity.

           
“I don’t
dream often,” he concedes. “But when I do, I’m always a little boy… in the
nursery. And I’m—happy.” He shrugs, a slight smile lighting his lips. “That’s
the only time I remember being happy. Until now.”

           
He
focuses on me, and I let my hand fall away as his words sink in.

           
“I dream
of you, Mia. And then you’re here, and I don’t have to dream anymore.”

           
He takes
my hand. His is warm, and it swallows mine up. The nursery was a happy place. I
remember.

           
Chad
has never told me about the “in-between” part of his life—in between the
nursery and the Pit. Every time I’ve asked, he cringes and closes me off. That
alone makes me wary. Truly, I don’t want to know, and he shouldn’t have to relive
it.

           
“Why did you
really come today?”
Chad
asks, and the question yanks me back to the present moment, his hand still warm
over mine. I purse my lips, thinking.

           
“I’m—I’m
missing my friends terribly today,” I confess. “I suppose—” I shake my head,
eyes down. “I just needed to be with someone familiar.”

           
His chest
heaves once, puffed up with air, and his shoulders sag with a satisfied sigh.
And then that sweet, crooked grin spreads across his face.

           
“Stop
it.” I shake my head, feigning exasperation, but I can’t help smiling. I’ve
come to know that his grin is somehow contagious, and I must give into it every
time he offers it. “So you’re happy? Right now?”

           
The smile
fades. “I’m as happy as I can be. Only because I remember the feeling.” He pauses,
his eyes swiveling toward the gate again. “The Council thinks they wipe us
clean when they cage us, but they can’t. Somewhere, far way, we remember that
we are human.” He faces me. “And yes, you have brought that feeling back to me.”

           
I
swallow, fighting tears, but they spring to my eyes.
Chad
’s
face lights with his smile again, and something in my heart nudges me one step
closer to him.

ia!”

I pause just outside my hogan, hand on the doorframe, and
turn toward the voice. Rhoda comes bumbling toward me. She clutches a medicine
bowl in one hand and a clay pot in the other. Swags of herbs fresh-picked from
the medicinal garden drape over her arms.

           
“There
you are, girl.” She comes closer, breathing a little too heavy in her slightly
plump body. “Walk with me.”

           
She hands
me the medicine bowl as she trudges past the other women huddling in front of
their hogans.

           
“I’ve
informed the Council of your condition,” she begins, and I pick up the pace to
match hers. “They were quite pleased, as you can imagine.”

           
“Yes,” I
nod, that feeling of elation growing.

           
“As you
know, you will have a reprieve from the Pit until after the birth.” She winks
at me. “That must make you quite happy.”

           
“Yes.” I
keep my voice flat. “And my mate?”

           
Rhoda
tosses me a curious look. “What of him?”

           
“Well,
what will he do? While I’m away?”

           
She
frowns. “Why would you care?”

           
We reach
the small infirmary, and she slides through the bamboo leaves and deposits her
load on the first table. I follow her in, resting my hip against the edge.
 

           
“I’m just
curious, is all.” I set the bowl down.

           
“Oh,
you’re curious?” She eyes me. “Curiosity is dangerous.”

           
She
fumbles through the items on another table until she finds a wooden shank. Returning
to the first table, she pushes a few jars aside and spreads out one spindly
branch of basil. She chops off a piece, deposits it into a stone mortar, and
begins to grind it with the pestle. The bittersweet aroma floods my nostrils.

           
“Well?” I
press. She glances at me, sighs.

           
“If you
must know, he’ll be paired with another breeder.”

           
I
straighten, a strange shock slamming into my gut. “Who?”

           
“Girl, I
have no clue.” Her weathered hands work the pestle. “The Council decides such
matters based on need.”

           
“What
kind of need?”

           
I hear
the indignant tone of my voice, and Rhoda does not miss it either. She stops
grinding and leans forward over the table on the heels of her hands.

           
“What has
you ruffled, Mia?” Her eyes pin me with warning. “I hope you are not planning
to follow in the footsteps of some of your friends. I would hate to see a nasty
end to you.”

           
She
squints, and I ease my hip away from the table, wringing my hands.

           
“I told
you, I’m only curious.”

           
“Hmmph,”
she huffs, and leans back.

           
I’m
silent for a moment, contemplating how to approach the subject again with less
aggression. This has never been easy for me, but I know Rhoda. I’ve sat under
her teaching since the moment I was released from the nursery and stumbled upon
the wonderful art of medicine. And despite my chosen destiny, Rhoda saw my
skill for what it is. She has never turned me away, and she has never failed to
answer a single one of my questions.

           
“I was at
the nursery this morning.” She takes up the pestle again. I focus on her lips.
“Checking over the upcoming stock. We have a shortage of males this season.
Again.”

           
I crease
my brow. “So we have more breeders than we do stock. Is this what you’re
saying?”

           
“This is
what I’m saying.” She lifts the mortar and pours its powdery contents into a small,
glass jar.

           
“How did this
happen?” I ask.

           
“Not
enough male births,” she says matter-of-factly. “And to make matters worse, too
many disposals over the past few years in my opinion.” Her voice carries a note
of disapproval. “We simply have to double up the assignments in some cases. Now
that we know your mate is productive, we can do the same with him.”

           
I’m numb,
and my hand involuntarily slides up to rest over my belly. Rhoda, who never
misses a thing with her keen physician’s eyes notices. She nods.

           
“So let’s
hope, for once, that child you carry is a viable boy.” She winks. “I’d hate
having to revert to Mona’s plan again.”

           
I straighten
at this. “Mona’s plan?”

           
Rhoda
pauses, the glass jar in her grip, and a look of regret passes across her
features. “Never mind that,” she says quickly. “Mona won’t be making anymore
decisions for the Village.”

           
A sick
feeling rises even as she turns away to deposit the jar with a clatter onto a
shelf littered with other jars and pots. She makes light of her comment, hoping
I will forget what she said, but she can’t change that I heard it. I am not an
idiot. Kate was very clear that Ian was from somewhere else as was Meg’s mate.

           
I don’t
have to question Rhoda further to know her meaning. A shortage of males caused
Mona to look elsewhere. Timidly, I run my fingers across the edge of the table.

           
“You don’t
think the Council would continue with Mona’s plans to cure the shortage?”

           
I half
hope her answer is what I want to hear, but she quickly shakes her head.

           
“The
Council’s plans are to do nothing like Mona.”

           
I
consider this. So it was only Mona who was brutal and not the entire Council.
Even
Tara
’s harsh personality does not compare. But
still, I don’t like how Rhoda’s revelation makes me feel, and my thoughts skip
to
Chad
. There
is no stopping it;
Chad
will be assigned to someone else.

           
It
shouldn’t matter to me what they do with a dog once he’s fulfilled his duty. And
it didn’t matter once. Now, I’m left feeling disgusted at the thought of
Chad
with someone else.

           
He
belongs with me.

           
This
sudden thought skimming through my brain stuns me, and my gorge rises. I choke
it back long enough to whisk through the bamboo leaves. Bending, I vomit in the
dirt.

           
“Are you
using the syrup?” Rhoda calls through the door.

           
“Yes,” I
whisper. I close my eyes, my hands on my knees.

           
This
time, syrup most definitely isn’t going to help me.

*

           
I don’t
sleep well, and this is rare. Sleeping has never been a problem, unless
sleeping too much is accounted for. But tonight, it is a problem. When I do
manage to fall into a fitful sleep,
Chad
seeps into my dreams, and I wake over and over in a panicked sweat.

           
By the
time the sun is barely rising over the mountains, I’ve made an uncomfortable
decision. I have to ease my mind somehow, so I will go to the one council
member I trust.

           
Eleven
large hogans stand in a long line just beyond the Great Hall, flanked by tall
trees with sweeping branches. It is uncommon for any of the women to visit this
area, and my palms begin to sweat as I approach the path that will take me
there.

           
I don’t
question authority; I never have. Kate managed to do so enough for the both of
us, and I pause on the path, hesitant. I should turn around, go back to my
hogan, and keep my mouth shut. I may gain nothing but trouble from this brave
moment, which could define the course of my life. I wring my hands, turn, and take
a few steps back toward the center of the Village.

           
But then
Chad
is in my head again, and his lips are on mine, and his breath is warmth with the
smell of mint… and I regret that kiss more than ever. And then, in the next
second, I don’t—and this urges me to turn around and move forward. Another bend
in the path, and I see the hogans.

           
Several
of the council members are outside enjoying the warm, morning sunshine, and
Anna Maria is the first to spot me.

           
“Mia!
What a surprise to see you here.”

           
She sits
on the stoop of her hogan, her aged back hunched forward grotesquely in her
long, gray shroud of a dress. She is the oldest member of the clan, and
well-respected for her wisdom. I stop in front of her, giving a small curtsy.

           
“What
brings you here, girl?”

           
“I’ve
come to see Leah,” I say quietly.

           
Anna
Maria shifts her body upward to the best of her ability, and it looks so
painful that I drop to my knees in front of her and lower my head to meet her
eyes.
 

           
“Leah’s
hogan is three doors over.” A smile squeezes out of her wrinkled face, then disappears.
She raises a bony finger. “I suppose you’re missing Kate.”

           
My mouth
parts when she says this, and I swipe the tip of my tongue across my lower lip
and sigh.

           
“I am,” I
admit. “And… there are a few harsh words I would like to say to her for
abandoning me here.”

           
The old
woman’s smile returns. “I don’t doubt it. But take comfort; we haven’t seen the
last of her.”

           
I pull
back. “Why do you say that?”

           
“Oh, for
one, I’ve lived a very long time. I’m acutely attuned to a girl’s proclivities.
And secondly, Kate has work to do here, and she is passionate about it. She
sensed her life was in danger; she left the Village with a sweeping impulse—to
survive, and rightly so, for now. But fear not. Something will bring her back
here to finish what she began.”

           
I stare
at her. “Do you really think so?”
  

           
“I do.”
Her back grows suddenly tired, and she slinks her head forward to rest it on
her chest. “Now, you have business with Leah. Go on about it.”

           
I rise, leaving
her to bask in the sun. Her words are bold, but I’m not quite certain I believe
them. Perhaps old age is catching up to her.

           
I make my
way down the path to Leah’s hogan. Each dwelling is marked with the sign under
which that council member was born, and carved into Leah’s, right above the
doorway, is the Lion. I study it for a moment, before moving closer to rustle
the bamboo.

           
“Leah?”

           
“Yes?
Come in.”

           
I shove
through the leaves to find Leah seated on a low stool eating a bowl of
porridge. Seeing me, she lowers the bowl and wipes her hands on a cloth spread
over her lap.

           
“Mia.
What an unusual surprise. How good to see you.” She gestures toward a stool
beside her, and I slink over and drop onto it. “Have you eaten?”

           
I shake
my head, and she stands, moves to a small kettle and dips up another bowl of
porridge, handing it off to me. When I bite into it, I notice molasses has been
stirred throughout the whole batch. Leah sits. My eyes sweep across the
interior of her hogan, which is similar to mine, but bigger.

           
“Is
something on your mind?” She scoops up her own bowl again, pauses just before
taking a bite. “Are you here to report a breeder uprising?”

           
She
smiles when she says this, but her eyes hold a hint of uncertainty until I
shake my head.

           
“No
uprising. Actually, I’ve come about—” I cut my words short, pondering how I
should begin. “It’s about my… pregnancy.”

           
“Oh,
yes.” She smiles, her eyes brightening. “We heard the news yesterday. It’s
taken some time, and I’m sure you’re relieved.”

           
“I am,” I
nod, trying to smile. “But—”

           
I break
off, my thoughts suddenly clearing, and I know that I must simply say what is
on my mind. I push forward then without hesitation.

           
“I’m
wondering about my mate.”

           
Leah’s
brows lift with surprise, and she lowers the bowl to her lap. “Yes?”

           
“Well…
Rhoda tells me he is to be paired with another girl during my absence.”

           
“Yes,”
she nods. “That is not unusual.”

           
“But…” I
clear my throat, squeezing my fingers more tightly around the bowl. “I’m
confused.”

           
“How do
you mean?”

           
“As you
said, it’s taken quite some time for me to conceive. So why would the Council
think another girl would be any more fortunate?”