The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,26
don’t feel like I’m flying so much as falling. And instead of being happy when my feet finally touch the ground, I’m disappointed. I want to be up in the trees again, with him.
Chapter Six
Two days later, and the Scourge is still here.
The community is meeting, trying to decide what to do. I sit with Bear in my usual spot, leaning back against the rock wall. I’m only half-listening. It doesn’t matter what they decide; I’ll still have to collect the water.
Unbelievably, no one discovered I spent the night in the trees. I slunk back to the cave that morning, the bite wrapped and hidden under the sleeve of my dress. Unsure what kind of reception I would receive, I was astonished when the Three publicly forgave me. Grudges lead to hostilities that a small community like ours can’t afford, Aloe explained. I try to let go of my hard feelings, too, but it’s not easy.
I think often about my night in the trees, but Peree and I don’t talk about it as I collect the water. He finally tells me the story of sheep—dim creatures that gave their wooly coats to make warm clothes for people in cold climates—but he seems more distant, making me wonder if I dreamed the moment when we touched. I want to ask Calli what she thinks, but I don’t dare.
Sable’s droning on about how the Scourge has stayed this long before; how we should remain strong and wait them out. I lean my head against the wall, and close my eyes. Even after a full night of sleep, I’m exhausted. I drift off, until I hear my name.
“Fennel can’t keep bringing us water—look at her,” a woman is saying. It’s Pinion. I can hear people twisting around to stare at me. “She’s done in! We’re on restricted rations as it is. What will we do if she can’t collect the water anymore?”
“Then I will collect the water, as I have before,” Aloe says.
“That’s only a temporary solution,” Fox says. “You’re needed on the Council, and no offense meant, but collecting water is for the young. What if the Scourge doesn’t leave this time? Pinion is right. We need a plan.”
“The Scourge has always left,” Sable says. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“But what if they don’t? Our children are hungry and dirty!” Pinion’s two-year-old daughter, Yew, whimpers by her side. Others murmur their agreement.
“They have a point,” Bear whispers. “The fleshies aren’t showing any signs of clearing out, are they?” I shake my head back and forth against the rock, my eyes still closed. “And it doesn’t sound like the Three have another plan.”
“The smell in here alone may drive us out, Scourge or no Scourge,” I mutter.
Bear snickers. The small room we use as a toileting area is sufficient for short stays, but not for a lengthy imprisonment like this. The odor’s creeping through the entire cave system; my sensitive nose has been barraged by it for days. And it’s not only the caves. Bear smells like he’s been rolling around in the fertilizer pile in the garden. I don’t want to know what I smell like.
“Don’t go near Moray, whatever you do. He stinks like a flesh-eater,” Bear says.
“Are you two getting into it again?” I ask. “Ignore him. He’s an overgrown bully.” Moray is one of Thistles' three giant sons. Cuda is another, and I can never remember the third one's name.
“Exactly. And bullies need someone to put them in their place.”
“Of course that someone’s got to be you.”
“Give me a break. It’s incredibly boring in here, I need a little excitement.”
Someone shushes us, and we quiet down in time to hear Bream say, “What about the Hidden Waters?” People murmur at that.
“The Hidden Waters are a legend,” Adder says. “We have no proof they exist.”
“Let this be the time to find proof, then.”
I sit up. The legend of the Hidden Waters is familiar to all of us. The waters are supposed to be safe—safe to drink, and safe from the Scourge. It’s said they can be found by journeying through the caves, but no one knows where or how long it might take to get to them. Groundlings have searched for the Waters before. They returned disappointed, or not at all. We pretended to search, too, as children, playing in the caves while the Scourge was here.
Adder’s laughter is harsh, like the meeting of a switch and a bare backside. “It’s a fairytale, Bream! We don’t have the slightest