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  Dedicated to

  All my friends living in the beauty of Mt. Rainer

  Chapter 1

  The room was damp and dark. The familiar stench of human waste and illness hung thick in the air. There was no sound other than the screeching of the metal tub across the prison floor and the clang of the iron hitting itself as the door to our cell was closed. My eyes stayed shut as the water flowed from the ceiling. Exhausted, I pushed myself up. It was more difficult than I expected. Trying not to draw unwanted attention, I used the wall to brace myself. Waiting for my head to stop spinning, I struggled into the open area of the cell to bathe. My vision faded in and out of focus while I studied my hands.

  Is that blood?

  I reached out to the falling water in an attempt to rinse them. This wasn’t water at all; it’s blood. And I’m covered in it. Terrified, I became more alert; my sight quickly sharpened. Everyone in the cell stared at me with mouths agape. It wasn’t my nakedness that drew their attention, but my form. My entire stomach was missing. I’d been hollowed out like a saddlebag. Breathing became difficult, and the pain tearing through my abdomen grew unbearable. I fell to my knees, reaching around my middle as if that would help at all.

  The woman in the red tunic held my baby by the ankles over a boiling stockpot, its umbilical cord still attached. She grinned, showing off her pointed teeth. “We were just getting ready for lunch.”

  My eyes flew open. I was in my own bed at home. Reaching down to confirm I was still intact, I was relieved that my stomach was still there. Closing my eyes again, I tried to overcome my anxiety and get that tormenting image out of my mind. How long have I been back at home? With dreams like that, it hadn’t been long enough. One would think with the light of day getting longer, and Talium finally passed, I could tell one day from the next. I had trouble leaving my bed. It wasn’t because of my injuries that I couldn’t muster the energy to get up; my mother had fully healed me the night I returned. All that remained were the scars on my skin and the haunting of my memories. Every moment confined to the prison of the Authority was spent yearning to be home. Being home, I couldn’t move.

  The nightmares tormented me in some new, evil way every time I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to sleep, although I didn’t want to be awake either. Perhaps I wasn’t home at all, but still in the cell dreaming of home. Who would know for sure? My body didn’t ache; was that a significant piece of evidence? Why would my mind continue to trap me back in that place if I wasn’t there anymore? I fought so hard to survive only to fade into nothing once free. My days and nights blended together. They were spent in my bed, listening to the sounds of the rains on the roof above my head.

  My family took turns trying to comfort me but decided to give me most of the time to be alone. We all knew things were getting worse, not better. I overheard their whispered discussions when they thought I slept. “A few more days of rest” was the prevailing thought. As long as I knew they were near, I was thankful to be left alone.

  The dream was not uncommon from any of the others, just different. Each one presented itself a unique version of perverted cruelty. For that reason, I doubted my sanity. How could I imagine all these terrible things on my own? If I did, what did that say about the condition of my soul? Surviving the catacombs of the Authority gave me the will to fight. Since the struggle ended and I returned home, a new challenge presented itself. I began to wonder if the only true rest came with death. My desperation for a restful, quiet mind made the option a valid one to consider.

  “Una,” Mother whispered, “I brought you something.” I lay there, pretending I was still asleep. She reached out to touch me, and I recoiled, not expecting her gesture. “I’m sorry, little bird, but you should eat something.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

  My mother sat down on the floor beside me and sighed. “I’m worried about you, Una.” I didn’t acknowledge her concern. “We need to talk.” She touched my shoulder again, and I just clenched my jaw.

  “Can we do it later?” I asked, pulling the blanket up and around my neck.

  “No, we cannot. Before we do, take a bite.”

  “I told you, I’m not hungry,” I said softly.

  “It’s not for you. It’s for the baby.” She held out a bowl of thistle soup.

  My heart sank, and I averted my stare. I never told her I was pregnant; I didn’t have to. As a Healer, she figured it out on her own. There was no way to heal me without sensing it first. Until now, she hadn’t brought it up. Instead of replying, I tried to inconspicuously wipe a tear from my cheek.

  “Take it, Una.” I did as she said, albeit slowly. “Can you tell me what’s going on? I really would like to help you if I can.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, Mother,” I confessed. “I’m just so tired.”

  “But you’re sleeping all the time.” She pulled the blanket gently off my shoulder.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I have the most terrible dreams. They’re so real. So terrifying.”

  She slid her hand behind my back and helped me sit up. “Are they visions?” she asked, trying to understand.

  “No,” I said impatiently.

  She handed me the small bowl of soup. “How can you be sure?”

  “I just know.” I took a drink, knowing she wasn’t going to go away until I did.

  “You’re home now,” she said, smoothing out my blankets nervously. “They’re not going to come for you again, right? I thought you said that they could only do the Verification of Fertility once.”

  I nodded.

  “Then what are you afraid of? Is it the pregnancy?”

  That and more. The baby complicated a problem that already existed.

  “There is something you should know.” I bit my lower lip, unprepared to talk to her about the baby or anything else. Telling her the father’s identity would be the best way to make her leave. After she calmed down, she’d be back, eager to discuss the pregnancy more. A moment of silence to delay the inevitable didn’t make my lips move. Why not tell her? Because Blue would kill him. Blue owned me, and nothing could be done about it. Scavenger women existed for the purpose of trade. Nothing more. I acted like a fool the night I gave into desire. To have hope for a life with Calish was nothing more than a stupid fantasy of an equally stupid girl. Now, it would cost one of us our lives, if not both of us and the baby.

  “Una, let me explain something to you.” She touched my lower leg. “There is nothing, nothing you can say that will change my love for you. Please tell me so I can help you. I want to do something, even if it means all I can do is listen.”

  I put the bowl down in my lap and looked into the thin and milky broth. Thistle soup didn’t have a reflection, nor could you see through it. There was a time that I couldn’t stand its bland taste. Now I appreciated it. Feeling the warmth through the walls of the cup tied me to the world of reality. A brown cup, thrown out in the street, became a sliver of proof that I was home.

  “Una?” Mother reminded me she was there.

  “Sorry.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “It’s about Blue. His Petition was accepted.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Mother asked tenderly.

  “It means I’m now his, legally. He has to decide if I’m his wife or his slave. It’s effective immediately, and he can take me at any moment. When I left him, well, he didn’t know I was leaving.”

  My mother’s mouth fell open.

  “He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, either.”

  She paid more attention to her breathing. “Does anyone else know?”

  I lied and
shook my head. I didn’t want to bring up Hawk, my uncle, and Paw, the Animal Communicator. It’s not that I didn’t want her to know, I just didn’t want to talk about it. I’d successfully removed Hawk’s and Paw’s names from the complicated story I’d made up to explain my adoption of a wolf pup the night of my arrival. My family was by no means satisfied with my explanation; nevertheless, it kept them from putting me through another exhausting inquisition.

  More information meant more questions, and more questions meant more talking. Declining to start a conversation was the easiest, at least for me. Eventually, I’d need to tell them the truth or get more detailed about the tall tale I’d made up. The problem with a colorful story was that I’d have to remember it in the future. I tried to keep it simple and buy myself some time by saying, “I don’t want to talk about it.” That would get me only so far for so long, although it seemed to be working for now. I was in survival mode, and given my pregnancy, Blue may not allow me to see the results of a long-term plan anyway. There was no point in borrowing more trouble than I already had.

  The one thing I was honest about was my injuries and how they came about. In an effort to minimize details, I left out names, describing them as the Lord-Judge, the Guard, and the man in the corner of the cell. I wouldn’t burden them with all that I’d learned about our family history over the past season, nor did I wish to trouble myself. Talium may be over, but the talons of the beast remained. The only thing worse than my father accepting what had been done to me was finding out his kin carried it out. No doubt, my father would seek vengeance. While I wouldn’t mind seeing Reinick dead, I knew he was almost impossible to get near. Additionally, Hawk wasn’t the cruel, dishonorable man he would have appeared to be in my recount of my injuries. I didn’t consider it lying to my family; I simply omitted parts of the truth. I needed to come to terms with everything myself before sharing it. Someday, if the situation presented itself, I would tell them everything.

  “We should tell Blue,” Mother began, but I shook my head and stopped her.

  “He won’t be happy,” I said.

  “Oh, Una, I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic! I bet that he’ll—” she exclaimed, and then she saw my face. “Oh, oh my. This baby is not his, is it?” she whispered. She looked away, letting the weight of this information settle in her mind.

  My mother was not a stupid woman. She knew exactly what this meant for me. What she didn’t know was the risk this pregnancy caused for our family and for the baby’s father, her only son. As long as I kept that a secret, they would be safe. At least, I hoped they would. After a moment or two of sitting there silent, she took my soup and put it on the floor next to her. She crawled on my bed, pulled me into her arms, and held me.

  I knew by her touch she didn’t suspect Calish. Why would she? If it wasn’t Blue, there was only one conclusion for her to come to. Prison. As much as I hated doing it, I let her believe a man took me during Talium. I desperately wanted to tell her about Calish, but I couldn’t. He needed to know first. I felt sick my mother thought I was molested while in custody. Lies like that are never worthy of forgiveness. Some things exist beyond love’s ability. Omitting the truth is a lie wrapped in cowardice. It’s a lie of the worst kind.

  Rape is vile; the most horrific act of evil that a woman could know. My parents did their best to prevent me from being in a position to be a man’s instrument of rage and sexual relief; that’s why they made the arrangement with Blue’s family. The depressing irony was there had been a man who tried to have me. If the guard in the laundry had had his way with me, I wouldn’t be able to say who the father was with any certainty.

  In the days that had passed, I spent my sleepless moments trying to figure things out. I had no plan. No options. The only thing I came up with was going to the Resistance camp to hide out for the duration of my pregnancy. But then what? I was still a Scavenger. When I was found, they’d take the baby and sacrifice it to the gods as an apology for such an atrocity against their law. Maybe, just maybe, I’d find a childless Citizen couple who would show us mercy and raise the child as their own. I would gladly throw myself into the river if it would ensure the safety of my family and provide this baby with a birthright.

  My eyes began to water as I considered my new hope for a future. If I could go back and warn myself about the pregnancy, I would. How could I be so careless? So stupid? Then again, if I hadn’t shared my body with Calish that night, my Womanhood would have come at the prison and I would have been sentenced to death anyway. Perhaps this baby was the reason the Great One allowed me to live as long as I had. It was a noble purpose to give life to another. Maybe my purpose was simply to give birth to this child. If that was what I was created for, then he would make a way for it to be fulfilled. Right? I sighed.

  Mother released me and rubbed my back. “We’ll figure something out, sweetheart. Try not to worry.” She forced a smile.

  “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  “This cannot be kept a secret for long.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “I know. Just a few more days? Please?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You get up, you don’t have to do anything but get out of this loft, and I’ll keep this between us for a few days longer.”

  I nodded.

  “We agree then.” She pushed up and made her way to the ladder, heartbroken. “You finish your meal. I’m going to continue my work in the garden.”

  While I continued to sip the soup, my mother put on her rain cloak and went outside. The gardens needed to be turned, but I’m sure she was using it as an excuse to remove herself. Her parting was appreciated. If she’d pressed for any further information, she might feel the need to address the situation now, rather than delay a few more days. I for one was not prepared for that.

  The more I ate, the more I wanted. Before I knew it, the bowl was empty. The kettle simmered over the fire, waiting for me to find it. Even though there were clothes and towels hanging to dry, my mother left a space, giving easy access to the soup. During Hytalia, there was always something in the process of drying. Scavengers like us who were lucky enough to have a roof over our heads—especially one that was not leaking—had plenty to be thankful for. A few articles of laundry hanging around the house to dry was not a nuisance. It was a blessing. Pushing the damp towels out of my way a bit farther, I refilled my bowl, careful not to spill it or burn myself in the process.

  Calish came in just as I hung the ladle on the hook on the side of the fireplace. He stopped in the doorway, surprised to see me standing there. Rainwater saturated his hair and dripped down his face.

  “Hi.” His eyes sparkled.

  “You’re soaked through. Let me get you a towel.” I reached up to grab him one.

  “No. Wait, I’ll get it in a moment.” He stepped back to hang his coat on one of the many hooks outside. I sat down at the table, waiting for my soup to cool. He shook the excess water from his hair. That one little curl always seemed to find the center of his forehead. No matter if his hair was wet or not, it stayed there in defiance of an unknown cause. Did he ever notice it, or had he pushed it out of the way so frequently the action became as automatic as blinking?

  Once inside, he grabbed a towel from the line strung across the fireplace. He sat at the end of the table next to me. “I was only coming in for a moment. Seeing that you’re up, I’ll take a longer break.” He patted the water from his face and neck. “I’m so glad to see you out of bed.”

  “Mother can be quite motivating,” I said before sipping my broth.

  “Do you feel any better?” His concern was genuine.

  I nodded, giving him another lie.

  “How’s the soup?” he asked, putting the towel on the table.

  I swallowed. “Delicious.”

  “Then I must get some before you and Marsh eat it all.” He dished out a portion of his own. “That pup you brought home with you is very energetic.”

  “What is he eating?” I turned to watch Calish.


  “Rabbits mostly.” He hung the ladle. “It’s fortunate they reproduce quickly. That wolf eats almost as much as Marsh.” He sat back down at the table.

  “What are you working on out there?”

  “Moving the pigs.” Each Hytalia we’d move them to a different place in the yard. With all the rain, they rooted in the ground easily to make it their own before the next season started. “Father said they turned the soil well enough to expand the garden rather than relocating it.”

  Calish’s handsome face captivated me. He could have been talking about anything; I hadn’t listened to his words, only his voice. The details of projects done in the rain held no interest for me. I kept thinking how much I wished things were different for us. This moment, however, was the stuff that filled a life with happy memories. The tedious chores, the small celebrations, the heartbreak of saying goodbye; these were the things I should be thankful for. I experienced more true love than any Scavenger would think was possible.

  I studied his face for some clue that he knew about the baby he put inside me, but I didn’t see it. How did he not know? And how was I supposed to tell him? If only things were different.

  “Una, are you listening to me?” Calish caught on that I was deep in thought.

  “Yeah, sorry. You were talking about the pigs?” I reminded him.

  “It’s not important.” He paused. “What’s on your mind? You look like you want to tell me something.”

  That’s an understatement. I shook my head. “Sometimes I can’t believe I’m home.” I finished my soup and set the empty bowl on the table.

  Calish moved his chair closer to me. “I know what you mean.” He took my hand, caressing it with his thumb. “I feel like I’m dreaming again. I missed you so much.”

  I need to tell him.

  He leaned in and kissed me gently before I said anything. His lips were soft and warm. He touched my face and continued to hold it as his mouth left mine and his eyes held my gaze.

  The front door opened, and Marsh stumbled in. When he saw us at the table, he groaned and stepped back outside, closing the door. My face turned red, slightly embarrassed by getting caught by our older brother. Privacy was not something our family was privileged to in a house this small. Unlike Blue’s house, which had many rooms, we lived in one great room with a loft.