The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,5
the forest behind us, shrieking as they come.
I start to run, supporting Willow, trying to stay on the path. Hands seize me, and I cry out.
“I’ve got her!” Fox yells. He sweeps Willow into his arms and sprints forward, his feet pounding the path.
I run too, terrified I’ll trip and fall. People call to me from the mouth of the cave, giving me a sound to aim for.
I hear the flesh-eaters just behind me now.
Then, warm arms and bodies catch me. I’m safe. Eland finds me and we hold each other. The people are quiet, listening to the creatures groan in the darkness outside the cave. Aloe’s voice rises above their hungry cries.
“Come,” she directs us.
And we do, following her through the passageway to the still, black cavity that will be our home until the Scourge leaves again.
Calli and I huddle together against the rock wall, shivering in our bedrolls. Groups of people around the main cavern confer in hushed voices, comparing escape stories as they warm themselves at small fires. It was a long, mostly sleepless night.
The Lofties usually give us more warning when the Scourge is near. It’s their part of our uneasy bargain. We provide them with small game and skins, produce from our gardens, and access to the water. In return, they allow us to cut down certain trees for wood, and they warn us when the Scourge is coming so we can hide out in the caves. What they never do is offer to share the safety of their airy homes.
The caves are safe. The flesh-eaters don’t come in—they don’t seem to like dark, confined spaces any more than we do—but we can’t leave either, until the Scourge is gone. They only move on when they’ve exhausted their food source, the animals—and humans—who rely on the fresh water to survive. Groundlings have tried over the years, but we’ve never been able to find another source of water. It’s risky to explore very far from the caves, because we never know when the flesh-eaters will come. So we’re stuck, with the Lofties, with the Scourge.
“I hate the caves,” Calli says. “And I hate the fleshies. We never even got to dance.”
I put my arms around her. “We’ll dance again, when they’re gone.”
“I know Bear was going to ask you. You should’ve seen his face while you talked to that Lofty.” She pulls the bedroll up under our chins. “We couldn’t believe it when you went over there. You do the strangest things sometimes. Who was he, anyway?”
“My Keeper, Peree.”
“Peree? What kind of bird is that?”
“Short for Peregrine.”
“Oh. Well, what was he like?”
“I don’t know; I barely spoke to him.” I think of his callused hands and his musical voice. I won’t tell her I asked him to dance. “What did he look like?”
“Tall, fair-haired, feathers sticking out all over the place. Looking down his nose at everyone. You know, like a Lofty. They all pretty much look the same. Ugh, I think my toes are frostbitten.” She grabs my leg. “The Three are here.”
We jump to our feet, and I feel Aloe take my hand. Sable, the oldest of the Three, speaks to me, his voice splintering like desiccated wood. He’s been on the Council for as long as I can remember. Some call him Sable the Unstable, because he totters when he walks, and because there’s been quiet speculation about how sound his mind is these days. Aloe said his time on the Council is probably limited, but he would stay on until she settles into her new role.
“I understand you rescued my mother last night, Fennel,” Sable says.
“Fox really did. How is Willow?”
“Alive, thanks to you,” he says. Aloe squeezes my hand, and my cheeks warm.
He continues in a clearer voice. “We were only able to bring in a little water last night, so I’m afraid we’ll need you to collect three sacks today. I’m sorry to ask you to make more than one trip on your first day among the Scourge, but we have no choice.”
“Three sacks,” another man repeats, emphasizing each word. It’s Adder, the last of the Council. His voice is raspy and harsh. I’ve always disliked it. I decided I didn’t like Adder period when I heard he was unhappy that Aloe was chosen by the people to be one of the Three. “And don’t let that Lofty Keeper talk you into any more than their equal share of the water. They’ll not get one drop more than they’re due—”