The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,58
to see this,” he says. “Those platforms they use to carry people up and down, the intricacy of their walkways—it’s spectacular.”
“So are their gardens,” I say. “They’re so much more developed than ours! They have all the vegetables and flowers we do, and more. Then again, they don’t have to abandon their crops every time the sick ones—I mean the flesh-eaters—come.”
“Sick ones? Is that what they call them?”
“Runa, in their language. And they call the caves the Dark Place.”
“They got that right.” A bird screeches, and Peree startles. “I can’t relax, stuck on the ground and barely able to walk. My ears kind of tingle all the time, listening for the Scourge.”
My mouth curls with the irony of a Lofty experiencing for the first time what all Groundlings feel, practically from infancy. “I know what you mean.”
“I guess you would.” His voice is tinged with apology.
We listen as people walk by, chattering to each other in the first language, followed by a group of children, playing some kind of chase game. Their excited screams remind me of the night of the Summer Solstice. It seems like seasons have gone by since then.
“So, how are people treating you?” Peree asks. “When he’s not babying me, or trying to suffocate me with incense, Nerang seems nice enough.”
I jab him with my elbow. “Peree! Nerang’s been amazing! Neither of us were in great shape when we got here, and now look at us.”
He snorts, and a second later I get the joke. My head is still horribly bruised, my ribs are wrapped, and part of his leg is missing.
“Yeah, we look great, like a couple of patched-up corpses.” He presses his shoulder to mine. “But I’m grateful to him for taking care of you, when I couldn’t.”
I flush. “Really, everyone’s been wonderful. Kora and her family, and especially Kadee. I want you to meet them. You’ll like them.”
“Sure,” he says absentmindedly. “The people here—they’re different.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way they sound. How they look,” he says.
The people do sound different, because of their accents, but I wasn’t aware they looked any different. I ask him what he means.
“Some look like me,” he explains, “with fair hair and light eyes, light skin. Others are darker like you. Some have dark skin and light hair. Some have skin as black as the night sky.”
“I guess it doesn’t surprise me. Wirrim said plenty of lor–, I mean strangers, have come over the years. And if the Exchange proves anything, it’s that children don’t always look like their parents.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” he says. “One minute I’m pretty damn sure I’m about to die, the next I wake up in a village of survivors, and they’re protected, and they’re living here like one big happy family. I don’t know what I expected when I came with you to find the Waters, but it wasn’t this.”
I hesitate, chewing on my lip. I’m not sure this is the right time to bring this up. “Peree? Do you remember how you told me in the caves, that there are less of you?” I remember what else he told me in the caves, about watching me, and my face heats up again. “It seems like Koolkuna might be what you were looking for, for your people. There’s still a lot I don’t know about it, but I do know it’s safe, and the people are kind.”
He nudges me again. “Trying to get rid of us, Groundling?”
I smile. “With you Lofties gone, we could stay in your trees when the Scourge comes, and not have to hide in the caves. Less accidents with arrows, too.”
“I thought you hated the trees.”
“Let’s see,” I tap my finger to my lips, “stay on the ground with the flesh-eaters and hide in the caves, or live safely in the trees? I think I can get over my fear of heights.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I left home for good?” He’s still joking, but there’s a serious note to his question.
“I’m thinking out loud, that’s all.”
“Well,” he pushes himself to his feet, using the trunk of the tree for support. “I want to take a closer look at the village, especially those walkways. And since that will involve actually being able to walk, I’m going back to the shelter, completely unassisted.”
“Peree, be careful.” I jump up and follow uselessly behind him as he hobbles across the grass.
“I’m good, it’s no prob–” He stumbles.
Nerang catches him. “Pigheadedness may help you heal, but stupidity will not. It’s