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WE’VE BEEN STUCK here for just over three hours when we hear it. A dull scraping, scratching sound that seems to be coming from behind the rock face of the back wall. Jake and Devon, who are lounging there, spring up and back away.
My heart starts to thud, a heavy pounding in my chest.
Kane stirs. He throws me a passing look as he moves toward the sound. His face is guarded, and he doesn’t say anything.
“What’s happening?” Hannah asks in a trembling voice.
No one has an answer.
I rise to my feet along with everyone else. It’s a relief that something is finally happening. I’m terrified of what that something may be, but I’m also weary, thirsty, hungry, heartbroken, irritable. Far more terrified of being left to rot here in this cave.
A seam in the rock is splitting. There’s no light beyond, no glimpse of what’s in store for us.
Gabe crosses to stand by me. He places himself between me and the widening crack, as if he can protect me. As if he wants to protect me.
The gesture surprises me...then it doesn’t. Whatever we’ve done to each other, I haven’t stopped loving or caring for him. He’s in my heart, and he’ll be there forever. He’s the scar tissue that stays behind long after the wounds are healed.
Kane steps back suddenly—
—three hooded figures step just inside the crack.
My breath catches, nearly chokes me.
They’re steeped in darkness, shaded by shadows and black robes, but from what I can make out, the beasts appear to be human in form. They keep their heads lowered, their faces shrouded in the depths of their flowing hoods.
Two have the thicker, taller builds of men.
The third has a slighter frame... a woman, softly spoken with a lyrical voice. “There’s no reason to be frightened, we’re not here to hurt you.”
They speak like humans.
Confusion washes over me. I’ve always wondered if there were other communities out there, towns like Ironcross that had found a way to survive. It never crossed my mind that our Alders might be in contact with them.
Is it possible?
It doesn’t feel possible. Why would the Alders keep that secret? And why would they hand our Tithed over to human strangers?
I dismiss the notion.
It makes no sense.
These things may walk and talk and look like humans, but beneath those cloaks are the hideous formations of the beasts that have terrorized humanity since the plague destroyed our world.
Georga pushes forward to get a better look. “Who are you?”
“You may call me Mistress Ell,” the female says, then waves a hand across her companions. “Grigore, and Dannesh.”
“Names mean nothing! What are you? Where did you—”
“Georga,” Kane says, a quiet command to shut her up.
No one else is brave enough to speak, although there are whispers around me.
“All your questions will be answered shortly.” Mistress Ell lifts her hands out to us in a friendly, supplicant manner. “We should get moving. If you’ll follow me...”
She walks out, her movements as graceful as her voice. It looks like her feet are gliding beneath the folds of her cloak.
Kane doesn’t hesitate to follow and Georga is hot on his heels, the darkness swallowing them.
Gabe makes to go, but stops when he sees me hesitate. “What is it?”
I need a moment to gather my courage. The beasts. The black nothingness through that crack in the rock. The unknown.
“The lantern,” I say, bending to pick it up by the dangling handle. “We should take it with us.”
As the flickering pale light swings up, it sweeps across one of the hooded males who has remained behind with us. He raises his head for a split second, giving me a glimpse of skin and a hairy jawline.
Too quick to tell if it’s bearded man or furred beast.
Perhaps a blend?
I asked Gabe about that once. I’ve often tried to puzzle through some vague theory that the beasts must be sentient creatures rather than four-legged animals. How else could the treaty with the wall work?
Gabe thought the treaty was less literal than implied. He likened the Tithed to chickens tossed over the fence to keep the hungry foxes at bay.
Food.
He also thought he was smarter, faster, stronger, that he could outrun the beasts and survive.
I sneak a sidelong look at him. What do you think now?
He meets my gaze, holds it. I can’t see the deep blue of his eyes in the yellow lamplight, but I feel the intensity of his look. There’s too much between us for it to ever be a cool, distant and disconnected look. It feels like a torrid mix of anger, concern and hurt.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he says. He promises.
“I know,” I say with a small smile, even though we both know that’s a promise he can’t keep.
“I can’t,” comes a trembling voice from behind us. “I shouldn’t be here.”
I turn, to see Chase trying to tug Hannah along with him. “You can’t stay in the cave,” he says.
“The boy is right,” a cloaked male drawls from the depths of his shadowed hood, his voice a low, gravelly growl. “This chamber won’t be reopened until next year. There is only one way out, and it’s now.”
“It’s not fair,” Hannah whimpers as she reluctantly allows Chase to drag her forward.
It isn’t fair for many of us, but I guess she has a righteous claim to unfair.
Kane volunteered for this. Gabe sacrificed himself to spare the twins. Georga made her choice to not pair without love. I betrayed Gabe, gambled on love, and lost. Olly was left unpaired when the Alders withdrew June from the Tithe. There were no girls left to pair with Chase, Devon, Jake and Kadin.
But Hannah lodged her pairing with Luke. They signed the register to officially bind it, then took their place in the worthy seats at the Tithe ceremony. I don’t know how the Alders choose, why Hannah’s name came up, but the Alders needed one more soul for the wall and they broke her pair. She did everything right, and they left Luke behind in Ironcross and condemned her to this fate.
Gabe and I are the last ones left now...us and the two males. I remember their names, Grigore and Dannesh, but I have no idea who is who.
Gabe and I share a look, then we step through the crack, the lantern swinging low in my left hand.
The fear is there, carved into the fabric of my chest, but it’s a hollow shell. It’s been a long day. The horror and heartbreak of a long, long day that has shaved at my emotions until there’s not much left except the grit that kicks me into survival mode.
A narrow tunnel stretches out before us, long and straight and claustrophobic. Up ahead, silent shadows walk in single file. The padded footfalls and the echoes combine into a slithering noise that reminds me of a snake.
In the distance, at the very end, there’s a pinprick of light to lead the way. Not daylight. The Tithe ceremony took place at four-thirty in the afternoon and we’ve been sitting in the cave for at least three hours.
The walls are concave, the rock face as smooth as polished granite. We have to walk in the center so the curved ceiling doesn’t scrape our heads. There’s a scratching sound of stone on dirt. They’re sealing the cave off.
I don’t glance back to look.
I pick up my pace and Gabe falls into step beside me, increasing the gap between us and the male beasts who’ll no doubt soon be bringing up the rear.
“The beasts are not mindless savages,” I whisper to him as we walk. “I caught a glimpse of skin and hair. Did you ever expect them to resemble us so closely?”
“They don’t resemble humans.” Gabe flashes me a look. “They are human.”
“From where?” I snort.
“Ironcross.”
“The Alders sent them?” I look at him sharply. “Did you recognize a voice?”
“No,” he admits. “But where else would they come from?”
“I guess...” My pulse kicks as I realize what he’s saying. We haven’t faced the beasts. Yet. “So they’re taking us to the wall now. But why hide beneath those cloaks? Why make us wait in that cave for hours?”
“I don’t know, Senna.” There’s a note of weariness in his voice. “Just stay alert. Be prepared for anything. And keep close to me.”
Our eyes meet above the flickering flame.
I nod.
I think we’ve just reached a truce.
To be this.
The protector and the protected. The ex-best friends who still look out for each other. The broken lovers who have already moved on. As if years have elapsed instead of hours and we’ve recovered from the damage.
I wish years had elapsed.
I wish we’d had the time to stew and hurl accusations and fight and hate and finally move on to acceptance.
But I’m not sure we’ll ever have that luxury.
I’m pretty sure we won’t.
Even if Gabe and I survive this day, I can’t imagine any kind of normal where we’d make the time and effort to vent our grievances.