The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,86
breath, and I realize how hard this must be for her—coming home, preparing to see the partner and the people she left years ago. I wish I could muster more sympathy.
“It’ll be okay, Kadee,” I say. But they’re just words. Something is very wrong, I can feel it.
“Best to call me Blaze for now. They won’t know my new name.”
Heavier, slower footsteps move through the trees, stopping above us.
“Blaze.”
It’s Shrike. And right then I know Kadee was telling the truth about him. Peree couldn’t have sounded more shocked when he saw his mother for the first time in Koolkuna. Shrike sounds resigned, like he knew this day might come.
“I brought our daughter home,” she says. Shrike’s silent for a long time. Then a rope ladder clatters down a few feet away from us.
“Don’t go down there, Shrike,” Thrush pleads.
“It’s all right. This is my family." His voice is harsh, and I feel Kadee stiffen next to me.
“But one’s a Groundling, and I’ve never seen the other one before,” the boy says.
Petrel shushes him. The ladder squeaks under Shrike’s weight as he climbs. If we’re standing where I think we’re standing, this is the same place the Lofties dropped down to the clearing during the Summer Solstice celebration, and the ladder they used to escape when the Scourge came. When they left us to fend for ourselves. Bitterness pecks at me, opening old wounds.
“I am Shrike’s partner, but I left the trees,” Kadee says to Thrush. “I went to a place called Koolkuna. It's safe there, with plenty of food, water, and no flesh–”
“Stop,” Shrike says. He drops down beside us, the solid thump reminding me of the rock falling from the trees to the ground in Koolkuna. “Don’t fill his head with lies.”
“They aren’t lies,” Kadee says.
“Forgive me if I don't instantly believe you,” Shrike says. “Honesty wasn’t your forte, was it?”
“I’ve been to Koolkuna,” I say, “and what she says is true.”
A heavy hand lies on my shoulder briefly. “Fennel, I’m glad to know you’re safe. But there’s a history here that you don’t understand.”
“I understand enough,” I say. “Like that you and Blaze are my natural parents, and Aloe only fostered me because you asked her to.”
Shrike chuckles. “Aloe wanted you from the second you were placed in her arms at the Exchange. She adored you . . . we all did,” Shrike says. Regret is strong in his voice. When he speaks again, his voice has hardened. “Where’s Peree?”
“In Koolkuna,” Kadee answers. “He’s safe.”
Shrike must have looked less-than-convinced, because she says sharply, “I’m his mother. Do you think I’d lie about that?” In that moment I can understand how she got her Lofty name.
I step between them. “I don’t know if it will help, but Peree told me to show you this.”
I pull the bird carving up from under the front of my dress. Petrel whistles softly from the trees. Shrike plucks it from my fingers and examines it.
“It’s good work,” he grunts.
“He said to tell you he trusts me."
“I guess so,” Petrel says. He laughs, but I don’t get the joke.
“I promise he’s okay. He injured his leg, but it’s getting stronger every day. He’s coming back as soon as he can.”
Shrike just stands there, holding the bird.
“I know this isn’t easy,” I say softly. “It wasn’t easy for Peree and me to trust each other either.”
He lays the bird back down, and I tuck it away.
“Where are Aloe and the others, Shrike? Are they all right?” I ask.
“They’re in the caves.”
“Why?” I listen closely, but I can only hear the gentle sounds of the forest. No creatures.
“There’s been some trouble.”
An uncomfortable prickling starts at my scalp and wriggles down my neck. “What kind?”
“Your people attacked us—they actually came up into the trees.” He sounds like he still can’t believe it. “We drove them back, killing one. And one of our women was also killed in the crossfire.”
“Who?” Kadee and I ask in unison. I don’t think we’re asking about the same person.
“Glow,” he tells Kadee. “She was the lookout that night. I don’t know the Groundling’s name. Since then, we’ve kept them confined to the caves.”
I gasp. “You can’t!”
“No? Why not? We didn’t start this.”
I’m as shocked by his tone as I am by his words. Peree was clearly regretful when he told me about killing Jackal, so different from the contempt suffusing his father’s—my father’s—voice.
“They must have been desperate!” I say. “The people don’t want a war.”
“The Three should have considered that before they