“Nothing,” he says quickly, and I watch him cut an even line around his pants at the knee.
“What else do you have in that bag?” I ask since I didn’t take an inventory of it earlier.
“Not a needle and thread if that’s what you’re looking for,” he says back, laughing as he hands me his bag. I take out its contents and see what we have to survive on. There’s his navy jacket, his father’s letter, the map, and a deep purple folder. I pull the folder out and Alexander’s eyes land on it.
“That’s nothing,” he starts to says. Hunting Gifted is written in gold print across the front. I open the folder and sift through the collection of papers inside. Most are torn or extremely worn, clearly passed down from soldier to soldier.
The last paper in the folder is titled THE GIFTED. Printed down the aged sheet are the signs of all five senses and the multitude of gift titles. I never knew there were so many combinations of gifts. My eyes hang on the symbol for enhanced sight, feeling drawn to it.
“It’s nothing?” I ask and hand the folder back to him. “Have you ever caught one?”
“No, I don’t hunt people,” Alexander says disgusted. “They’re just papers from the castle.” He shoves them back into his bag and pulls out the last of his items, a first aid kit. I open the kit and see there are some more wraps like the ones I had on my arm, different medicines for fevers and the common cold, and a thick stainless steel needle and rolls of nylon.
“You should take some of those wraps,” Alexander offers.
“Thanks,” I say softly and take a roll of the white bandages. He’s given me my own bottle of water, doesn’t mind that I have sword, let’s me borrow his knife, and now shares his small amount of medical supplies. His kindness is comforting and I’m starting to feel bad for questioning whether I should stay with him.
“What do you think?” I ask, and we stand up to examine our makeshift shorts. We both laugh as neither of them are very proportioned to our bodies. The muscles in my face feel tight and I wonder when the last time I really laughed like that was.
“They’re great,” Alexander lies and takes his seat next to me again. “Here are some ray berries,” he offers, handing me the bright yellow berries. I take one and place it between my teeth popping it and sending warm sweet juice across my tongue. I place one after another in my mouth until I have devoured my share of the berries. Almost telepathically we both reach down and collect our fish at the same time.
The taste of real food nearly brings tears to my eyes. I want to eat it all in one bite, and as slow as possible all at the same time. I go for the later and savor every bite of real food. When I’m finished eating I collect the scraps of fabric and place them into my bag.
Then, I suddenly remember what is in the pocket of my shirt. The journal my mother had given me before she died. I’m about to pull it out when I stop myself. I’m not sure I want Alexander to know. This is kind of something I want to keep to myself. Although I don’t see the point since the diary is locked and I can’t even open it, but there has to be a reason she would give it to me. If she was a Future Holder then she must know I’ll figure out a way to open it. I take the journal, the old family photograph, and gold coin from my pockets and shove them into the bag Alexander said I could have. It’s still a little damp and smells of fish, but it’s better than nothing.
Alexander is the first to break the silence, “So I think we’ve traveled far enough east, thus saying the castle is north, that we can start heading south, and deeper into the woods. If I’m predicting right the Hounds, Paylon, Codian, and Chadian will all head into the western section of the woods. While we are in the eastern section.”
“You know, it’s horrible that they’re called Hounds,” I say, and my nose wrinkles up with disgust.
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” Alexander admits. I glance up to him and his face looks distant and sad. He was trained to call them that. I know he isn’t responsible for their title.
“I didn’t mean you were horrible for calling them that,” I say gently, trying to make him feel better. “I meant the King is disgusting for treating them like dogs.”
I think about how literal my statement is. They are prisoners in their own body, forced to use their gift of enhanced smell to track. I know if we get caught that’s what will happen to me since I have a gift. I won’t be one of the Hounds because I have an enhanced sense of sight, but my mind starts to imagine the different ways I could be used for my gift and my stomach threatens to give up the fish I just ate.
“We better get started,” I say as I stand, determined to never have to be a prisoner again.
I can feel my internal clock telling me I’m running out of time to make my decision whether or not
