“Ugh, she might still find something if you go though,” I reason. We both know that if I’m the one to ask then there’s no chance she’d ever help feed a spirit demon such as myself. I can imagine little worse than having to go into her home asking for food with the prospect of both herself and Rhys waiting for me.
Before Robyn can reply, my breath catches as the tavern door flies open and splinters against the wall on the other side. Bennie stumbles towards us. He continues to crash into the nearest log and for a dangerous second, he trips, heading straight towards the embers in front of us. Guy is on his feet in an instant steadying the drunk, the chicken leg’s spotless bone blackening in the live coal.
“Heloww friends,” drawls Bennie, “those arses in uuuurp there don’t want me no more,” he belches, Guy still hesitant at his side. The forest boy’s brow is wrinkled and he looks at Bennie warily, clearly unsure of what to make of this new arrival.
“And to think of all the business you’ve given them!” Robyn exclaims in a subtly mocking tone; she always enjoys messing with the man when he’s lost touch with sobriety. Then again, that’s most of the time. Between the evenings of drinking followed by the days of recovery, Bennie and rational thought have long since become strangers.
“Bennie you’ve got a little something on your shirt,” I gesture to the suspect splashes and dribbles staining the fabric. It would seem that surveying his appearance whilst maintaining balance is too big an ask however and Guy shoots me a cautionary, and slightly questioning, glare as he prevents the man from toppling forwards.
“M’fine, geroff me,” he slaps away Guy’s aid. “Yur pretty,” he comments to Guy, apparently noticing him for the first time. “She’s uuurp alright too,” he admits.
“Aww thanks,” Robyn grins, glancing sideways to give me a wink. Meanwhile, Bennie has turned Guy so that the two of them face the fire with their backs towards us. Bennie’s arm is slung over Guy’s broad shoulders whilst his other gestures, even from the silhouette of his back I can see that Guy isn’t comfortable with the arrangement.
“You don’t talk good, but thaz alright, ya should sweep er off er feet you sood... should,” Bennie unsuccessfully attempts to whisper, “Yur pretty now, but we get ugly real quick, and den she’s gonna want a real fella. Dunt worry I’ll stay away, but I’m just sayin, you ever need advice you come to good Bennie.”
The pair turn back around, Guy looking profoundly awkward and Bennie apparently oblivious that we could hear every word.
“Anyways, imma take a leak,” the drunk starts off towards the forest.
“No Bennie come on, I’ll take you home,” I call after him.
“Buh is a nice night!” he complains.
“I know it is, but come on, you know you don’t want to head off in there in the dark. Let me take you back.”
“Urghhh,” Bennie complains, regardless he starts making his way back towards us, “I’m not gonna be like yur dad though, no tree spears gonna be gettin’ me. Too quick li’l buddy, waaay too quick for tree monsters.” That stung a little, but I know he doesn’t mean anything by it.
“Bennie don’t-” Robyn starts.
“It’s ok don’t worry about it,” I cut her off. “I’ll go help him back, it’s getting late anyway. Guy you coming?” I get a shrug in response, but he moves to prop up Bennie under one shoulder. Alice rises whilst still gnawing on her last piece of chicken.
We, or should I say I, give Robyn our goodbyes and we head off towards Bennie’s hut, unfortunately for us it’s on the outer edge of the village. Guy seems completely comfortable taking most of the weight at least whilst I offer stability and directions.
“M’fine y’know,” Bennie repeats.
CHAPTER THREE
CRASH! I sit bolt upright.
Guy is already alert and on his feet, having claimed the floor at the foot of my bed for the night. There was a commotion outside of the hut, cries pierce the night.
My heart leaps into my throat as my mum comes barrelling into the room, she pulls Alice along by her side. Clearly relieved to see that we are all fine and awake, she rushes outside without another word. I find Guy’s eyes in the dark and then we’re both slipping on the floor and hurrying out the door in pursuit. He exits the door before me as I stuff my feet into my boots.
Fire.
One of the farmhouses in the distance is ablaze, luckily too far away from the village for it to spread and I silently thank the gods that the harvest has not yet been collected. We hurry forwards to aid in the attempt to put out the hungry creature. That is until a steel arm swings out from my mother bringing me and Guy to an abrupt halt.
Something is off, I sense it now too. The battle against the flames is unfought, instead a small crowd has formed someway in front of the building. Their silhouettes constantly distorting but just visible. Some of their chests are radiating a fierce ever-changing orange.
The air solidifies in my lungs and my heart begins assaulting my ribcage. Their chests are not emitting the brightness, but rather they are breastplates mirroring the light from the inferno.
Colony men.
The colony have essentially been our captors for as long as any in the village could remember, even Ida. A considerably more developed community far away, the colony demand regular payment as tribute for them not invading and leaving us be. It is their annual quota that we always struggle to meet, having to put their needs in front of our own. They always know the perfect amount to collect, in excess of the minimum quota of course. They take as much as they can get away with, while leaving us with just enough to survive and continue
