or think. I fill my lungs and scream as loud as I can, hoping someone might hear it. Or that it might chase the smothering fear away. My mind clears a bit with the piercing sound, but the tight feeling in my chest doesn’t lessen.
The earth around me swallows some of the sound, like our blankets when Eland and I used to giggle into them at night. Eland. I was so close to being with him again. Did he think I should be banished? Did everyone? And why would they? I didn’t collude with anyone. I didn’t even invite Peree to come with me to search for the Waters, although it might look that way. Is this what banishment really means? Binding someone’s hands and throwing them in a pit until they die of dehydration? Or was this a special sentence just for me, because I’m protected from the Scourge? Tears run down my cheeks. I can only absorb so many horrible revelations about my community today.
I have no idea why the Three would want to banish me, and I can’t believe Aloe would be part of it. Adder yes, Sable maybe, but not Aloe. Something terrible must be going on in the caves. There’s no other explanation.
I scream again, louder this time, hoping someone might be able to hear. Someone does, but it’s not who I was hoping for. I hear a groan, followed by the scent of death. A large group of the sick ones gather at the edge of the hole. One minute I hear the moans and screams of the Scourge, the next I can make out words—the pleading and pitiful cries. Like there are two different types of creatures above me. I listen, unable to do anything about their misery, or my own.
I lay on my side, the pack beneath my head. It’s hard to get comfortable with my hands bound behind me. The earth is cold, and there’s little room to move around. The darkness is complete. I curl up, shivering.
One time I left a loaf of bread baking too long in the oven. The gooey, fragrant blob of dough that went in came out an ashy, inedible rock. At this moment it feels like the same thing has happened to me. The people, places, and predictable routines—the flour and shortening of my life—have transformed into something strange and foreign. Something unrecognizable.
Lying in the dark with only the moans and entreaties of the sick ones to listen to, my mind plays tricks on me. The trees overhead whisper and mutter to each other. I hear things I don’t think are possible, like soft laughter or singing. I imagine torch light touching the darkness.
A white-hot fury builds in me as I huddle at the bottom of the pit. How did I end up here? I followed Aloe's example, never questioning her commitment to duty. I always assumed being Sightless was the honor people told me it was; an honor that brought certain hardships and specific responsibilities with it. Aloe performed her role as the Water Bearer without complaint, and I accepted that one day it would be my role too. But really I was being used. I was deliberately blinded to provide a service to my community. A service that, it turns out, isn’t even really needed or helpful, since it’s the poisoned water that created the Scourge and kept us prisoners all these years.
I could have stayed in Koolkuna where I was safe. Instead I returned home to my people. Now, thanks to them, I’m banished without even a chance to defend myself. So where does all that commitment to duty leave me?
Alone. Thirsty, hungry, and in pain, in the bottom of a pit. And growing more furious by the minute. The anger seethes through me, making my arms and legs quiver. I’m angry at the Three; angry at Aloe for not treating me like the adult I was becoming and preparing me for my difficult role; angry at the people who must have turned a blind eye to the things being done in the name of our community.
Surrounded by darkness and silence, anger and fear take on physical forms, and a destructive will of their own. They crouch next to me in the pit with toothy grins and clawed hands, waiting to tear into me. When they begin to pace around and around me in circles like predators stalking prey, I start singing. Like I did when I first faced the Scourge, or