I sit and listen to his enthusiasm as the sky slowly fades to black. He’s particularly thrilled as I tell him about the tribe thinking that I’m the Akanian. I had expected him to at least chuckle but instead he looks at me with pride, with a slight curling of his lips.
As I move over to an old lantern in the corner of the room, he points out a pair of shoes for me among the chaos. They fit poorly but they fight off the numbness from the evening chill. I thank him and talk a little longer before leaving him to rest.
The last traces of orange have vanished from the horizon by the time I leave the hut and begin my journey back towards Tarrin. Someone is slowly shuffling towards me, they’re muttering something to themselves. As they near, I recognise the incomprehensible babbling.
“Good evening, Ida,” I smile. She must be on her way to see Randall. She carries a pouch in her free hand, I wonder if it contains more of the peculiar green paste. She uses her other hand to lean on a small branch as she walks.
“The jay returns with the goldfinch, will the sparrow hawk come looking?” she asks with bizarre sincerity.
“I’m sorry, I-” I say, before I am interrupted by a smashing off to our side. A rickety door splinters against the wall as an obscenely fat boy squeezes past. Rhys storms towards us, his wretched mother calls after him from somewhere inside.
I wait patiently as Rhys waddles towards us. I have not been afraid of the boy for years, but I had always dreaded him. That part of me is gone. As I watch him pathetically carry his unhealthy wait towards us, I feel nothing at all. After everything I’ve been through, the fighting, the imprisonment, this bully before me is insignificant. For once I don’t take a step back as he approaches, instead I stand tall and defiant. I’ve grown I realise; the difference is only slight, but I am undeniably taller than Rhys now.
“Spawn!” he shouts.
“Rhys,” I greet, calmly. I could run, he would never catch me, but I am not the same person I once was.
“You’ve got some nerve coming back here,” Rhys says hotly as he points a sausage-like finger.
“From what I hear, it’s your family who should have been exiled,” I reply crisply.
Rhys swings for me, a meaty fist blurring in the darkness. I see it coming from a mile off, ducking as the blow sails harmlessly above my head. I bounce backwards onto the balls of my feet with my hands raised.
Ida beats me to it. She raises the branch and swings it with surprising force into Rhys’ back. He falls onto one knee before scrambling to his feet. Rhys looks down at Avlym’s elder in shock.
“No more. The lone pup fears man, but even man takes caution before the wolf with pack,” says Ida.
Ida sets her branch back down before leaving the pair of us alone. We both watch incredulous as she wanders off into the distance towards Randall’s hut, resuming her conversation with herself.
“You ruined everything,” Rhys accuses, the anger has faded slightly and has been replaced with hurt. “Everyone treats our family like dirt because of you and him. The looks we get, like we’re about to betray everyone if they get too close.”
“Now she knows how it feels,” I reply coldly, some cruel part of me is thrilled that Cecilia is being treated this way. “She’s treated me the same way all my life.”
Rhys doesn’t act like he heard a word I said, his shoulders shake up and down. He lets out a sob. What is happening?
“They killed Landen,” Rhys wails.
“What?” I exclaim.
“When they burnt down the village. Landen was trapped inside,” says Rhys, he loses all self-control and both knees fall to the dirt.
I don’t move for several long seconds. I had hated Landen with a passion, but I had never wanted him dead. I let Rhys’ words wash over me, surprised by the little emotion that stirs within. Have I become desensitised to death and the violence? I have just found out that a boy I’ve known since before we could walk has just died and I can’t manage to free a single tear. Who have I become? Have I lost all my humanity?
What do I do now? A moment ago, my lifetime bully was blaming me for everything and now he kneels sobbing at my feet. I awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder. I am lost for words and so we stay like this for several minutes. A better person might find something comforting to calm him down but try as I may, nothing comes to me.
Shouts come from up ahead as Orrian, Damaris, and Alice hastily make their way out of the tavern. Even from here I can hear Alice crying. A pair of drunken men lean out of the swinging doors calling after them aggressively. The men are telling Orrian and Damaris to go back to where they came from and that Tarrin doesn’t want anything to do with either of them. I guess Thoren hasn’t announced anything yet, they’re in for a shock when he does.
“Just go,” Rhys mumbles.
I help pull him to his feet. I strain against his weight as he rises, and I doubt I assist him much, but I think he appreciates it nonetheless. There’s no need to hurry towards the others, the drunks have already quietened their slurred words and staggered back inside. I’ve only travelled maybe twenty steps when I call back to Rhys, stopping him as he
