SEVEN

--...

Ryon held me close in his buggy while I told him everything that had happened over the last couple of days. He stroked my hair, rocked me, and listened to every word without interruption. Sure, Ryon had a reputation for babbling, but he also knew how to listen. He hung onto every one of my words. Instead of a half comforting statement like “It’ll be okay” or “It’s fine, relax,” Ryon instead cupped my face and whispered, “I understand.”

“Why do they do this?” I asked. 

“To control us. To make people like your sister think the world is okay.” 

“Elodie would say you’re manipulating me. But you aren’t.” I wiped my eyes. “You can’t be.”

“I clearly wooed you with my punderful jokes.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

“But, really...” Ryon grimaced as he spoke, “When we met, you had this type of spark in you. You’re the one who pointed out how people don’t smile. You noticed how many guards were around. It was all you.”

That was true.

“I didn’t force you to believe anything I said. You could have easily thought I was some loon making up stories and discarded me.”

That was also true.

“But you didn’t. You listened, you argued, and you formed your own opinions. I never told you to change what Captain Oberland said, right? Really hope I didn’t because... I want this to be your rebellion. We each have our own battles to fight.” Ryon cracked a smile. “Besides, I think you have more the tenacity to manipulate me. You dazzled me like a sunset, after all.” 

Ryon Barnes, I swear, he always knew what to say. He rambled often, but somehow his words always came together seamlessly. 

I responded with a kiss. A deep kiss. A passionate one. After a few moments, we pulled apart, blushing and laughing. 

But the mood changed as I stared past him at the stone structures. The city beckoned; the city roared; the city lied. 

“I want to learn the truth behind this city. The true history. Not some... state-sanctioned lie.” I met his gaze, “Please.”

“Do you really?” Ryon asked with a sobering glance.

“Yes. I do. My whole life, someone else always showed me the world. I saw Stilette through my father, the countryside through Gisela and Yeshua, and now I’m seeing the Capitol through you and Elodie. But I don’t want that. I want to see everything, hear everything, and make my own decisions. Please. Can’t you help me?”

He glanced down the road, then towards the towering Temple down the road, before turning back to me. “I can show you things, Nan. Terrible things that you can’t imagine. Things you would be better off not knowing. Most people have never seen them... and... it’s heartbreaking. I would hate to make you cry.” 

“Show me.” My confidence didn’t waver. But inside, I trembled. What could Ryon be showing me that turned his usual sunny demeanor gray? 

 

Ryon directed the buggy away from the city with his aloof black horse. It was a slow, steady ride, navigating from the well-structured roads of the city into the dismantled cobblestone of the outskirts and onto the dirt road by the farmlands. Around each bend, it was like entering a new world. The well-to-do lived with luxury, but those without much lived in squalor. Ryon didn’t comment on it. His face pulled in a frown, his hand on my arm, only breaking the staid façade to pay me a glance.

We passed by the sparse shrubs, through the fields of grains, and mooing cattle. Ryon brought his horse to a slow trot just outside a farmhouse. 

“Welcome to my home...” Ryon said to me, his smile returning for one moment. 

“I thought you lived in a barn, Mr. Barnes,” I quipped.

“Only when I don’t wanna deal with my parents.” He winked. 

“Wait...” My face reddened. “Am I here to meet your parents?”

“Nah, gotta show you something up the road from here. Figured I’d drop off the horse first... though...” He glanced at the house. “Ma’s peeking out the window. I think you can’t escape her even if you tried.”

I cursed under my breath, “Fine.” 

Ryon led the horse over to the stalls. The other horses he often used for the buggy peaked out, and the brown one stomped its foot in excitement upon seeing me. I smiled at it before allowing Ryon to take my hand and lead me towards the farmhouse.

His mother greeted us in the doorway, “Ryon! You’re home early! And who’s your lady friend?” 

“We’re just passing through, Ma,” Ryon muttered. 

Ryon looked just like his mother, with a narrow nose and hazel eyes. Only his hair was different, and as I entered the home, I realized it was his father who blessed him with a head of flames. At the counter, his father stood peeling potatoes. He didn’t look up from his work, brow furrowed, entirely focused. 

Four younger girls bolted out of the backroom as we stepped inside the house. All four of them looked exactly like Ryon with ginger hair, a freckled face, and large smiles. 

“Ryon’s home early!” The youngest chanted.

His father didn’t turn, saying, “You finally gonna stop going into the city then?”

“Honey, be nice!” Mrs. Barnes snapped at him. “He’s brought home a lady friend! See!”

His father turned and raised his eyebrows. “Well, well, well. That clears up this lot plenty, then. Shoulda known you were seeing a lady!” 

“Dad!” Ryon protested.

I came to his rescue, curtsying as I introduced myself. “I’m Doris Nanette Ivans. You can call me Nanette, though. It’s wonderful to meet you.” 

Mrs. Barnes held out her hand, “What a pleasure—”

“I’m Queenie!” the youngest child interjected, then, with a flash of her finger, pointed at each of her sisters from shortest to tallest, “And that’s Martha, and Gloria, and Wilma!”

I smiled, but a strange bout of envy wove through my stomach. Part of me yearned for a simpler time when the biggest argument I had with Elodie would be about who got the last of our mother’s cookies.

The sisters bickered and giggled nonstop, tossing words between themselves, dominating the conversation in the room. While Ryon’s father remained silent, his mother joined in the discussion, asking me many questions: When did Ryon and I meet? Where did I get that accent? What is it like in Stilette? What do I do for a living? The questions trailed one after the other. I could hardly keep up with their banter.

Ryon was unusually quiet with his family. I gripped his hand, squeezing it for reassurance as his mother served a meal of mashed potatoes, green beans, and bread. I restrained the urge to gag as I tried the mashed potatoes. The texture reminded me of vomit... but I held my tongue and ate around it.

As we finished our meal, Queenie piped up, looking me dead in the eyes, “Are you going to marry our brother?” 

“Oh, um—”

Ryon leapt to his feet. “And we’re going! Thanks for the meal, Ma, Pa... I’ll see you later!” 

I waved goodbye as Ryon rushed me out of the house, his face once again beet red. His little sisters followed us to the fence, giggling and waving. He didn’t dare turn back.

Once we rounded the bend, I placed a hand on his chest, slowing his pace. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, sorry... they’re excited, that’s all.” Ryon looked away from me. “I told you, I hadn’t dated before. I’m almost twenty-one. I’m not married or anything. My father sees me as a disappointment.” 

“Why? You’re making money. You’re doing great things—”

“I’m a cabby making little-to-nothing.”

“Yes, but—”

“He always wanted more for me.” Ryon kicked the ground as we walked. “but Mom’s just happy I’m alive. I told you… I’ve got a blood-sugar problem. So when I was a kid, I was really sick. Would get dizzy and lethargic. The local alchemist didn’t think I’d live past twelve... and they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, either. Nothing really worked. So, I didn’t really play or do much of anything as a kid. My parents’ home became my castle. One day I found a bunch of old books in the attic and dove into them. Guess that’s why I started liking stories. Ma and Pa didn’t even know they had them...so I hid them away and read by candlelight.”

I smirked, picturing a young Ryon dripping wax on his bed from the candle, enthralled by the books.

“When I was about ten years old, my dad took me into the city to see a well-known apothecary. They gave me some injection that I still use today. I told you about that, right? Still don’t know what it is, but it fixed whatever the problem was, and by the time I was fourteen, I was like anyone else.” Ryon scowled for a moment. “But I didn’t really get along with other kids once I was out in the world. All those jokes you find endearing, that’s after years of people not getting them or thinking I’m ‘odd.’ People stayed away from me, thought I was in trouble. I started getting into some trouble here and there. Drank a bit, smoked some...but mostly, I talked about what I read in those books. Caught the attention of some...including my pa. He ransacked my room, found the books, and burned them all. It took a while for me to talk to him again.”

I touched Ryon’s arm as he continued prattling.

“I started behaving more as I got older. Stayed away from drinking much and smokes, tried to keep my mouth closed... but Pa and I never mended our relationship after that. Other people in town veered from me still. It’s why I went to the Capitol for work...no one knows me there. But I guess...people just don’t like me...so I never brought home a girl. And... sorry... I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

I moved my hand to his cheek, “Thank you for telling me.” 

“It’s not important.”

“No, it is. We’re each a vessel filled with stories. Your stories define you.” I smiled at him, “And I want to hear all your stories.”

His muscles relaxing, Ryon pulled me into a kiss underneath a dying oak tree. For a moment, I forgot why we came to this little rural village in the first place, but after our lips pulled away, Ryon turned back towards the road.

The village differed from the city in more than just size. Dust gathered in the air, few bushes or trees waved with green, and few people meandered throughout the streets. It reminded me of some villages I passed through in the caravan. But at least in the south, by the border, people smiled. Here, eyes remained downcast.

A tall wooden fence bordered the edge of the village. Towers stood on the corners, gaping over the town with their stern stares. 

Ryon gripped my hand as he led me towards that wall, “We’re here.”

“Where?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me. “Go to the wall and look. You’ll see.”

I glanced once at Ryon, then released his fingers and approached the wall. As I neared, screams bellowed from over it. My nerves galloped up my throat, and I lowered myself to a hole in the wall.

I’ll never forget that moment. My heart broke into a million pieces that day. Beyond the wall, I witnessed what may have been a prison. Rows and rows of dilapidated homes filled my vision. Individuals with tattered clothing, emancipated bodies, and worn eyes worked and marched. Bodies lay in the streets, rotting. Children ran past naked. 

On each of their wrists, they bore a black mark, reminiscent of the hourglass-shaped structure sitting above the Temple in the Capitol.

He stumbled back. Ryon caught me in his arms, “I got you.”

“What am I looking at?”

“What do you think?” He prodded. “You wanted to make your own judgment.” 

“It looks like a prison!” 

He touched my shoulder, nodding as he answered, “They call this the Pit. The Guard brings so-called criminals here. But that definition is flimsy; this is the home to both the murderers and the homeless, to the rapist and the magic users, and to the thieves and storytellers. They brand them and drag them here, leaving the city pristine.”

“So they can say Rosada is a utopia...” I swallowed. A child ran past, playing with a handful of mud. A little further away, a man lay on the ground, hardly breathing, flies fluttering around his face. My lunch gathered in my throat. “No one deserves this...”

“I warned you.”

“I know... it’s just... I—” I turned away and vomited.

 

Evening dwindled as we made our way back to the farmhouse. We strolled in silence, clinging to each other, fear swarming. I didn’t want to go home. Sweat drenched my body, my throat burned, and my eyes kept watering. How could I sleep with what lay just out of sight? 

Especially alone?

“You can stay in the barn tonight if you want. That way, you don’t have to go home...” Ryon mumbled. “I already have a cot set up. I spent a lot of nights in there... gets me away from my family.”

“So, you do live in a barn then?” I managed a half-smile.

“Guess so.” He grinned back.

The smile brought a slight pep to my step. Yet, once I returned to the barn, all I wanted was to curl up in the makeshift cot with a woolen blanket. 

“I know it’s been a lot...” Ryon said as I collapsed on the cot, “I understand if you want to be alone right now.”

“No...” I sat up, “Stay.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the Pit. If Ryon lay next to me, maybe the nightmares wouldn’t be as bad. 

Perhaps I’d even feel safe.

He lowered himself onto the straw. After settling in, he removed a needle and vial from a bag beside the cot. He lifted his shirt and pressed the needle into his abdomen. I gasped as he injected the needle into his skin. He didn’t even flinch, tossing the needle aside like common trash into a nearby bucket before rolling over onto his side to face me.

I took in his face, counting the freckles on his nose and observing the way his beard stuck out in uneven patches. With a single hand, I ran my fingers along his beard, then let them fall down the side of his body, and along his stomach, before leaning in for a kiss.

We lay together, entwined in each other’s arms. The late summer humidity drenched us in sweat, but I didn’t pull back from him, kissing him every few minutes to make sure he was there. 

With each kiss, desperation wallowed in my chest. We would keep each other safe.

And Ryon responded with the same yearning.

Harder.

More passionate.

Desperate. 

We tossed our worries into the affection, devouring each other while wrapped in this blanket of fear. My body craved him. My heart cried for him. 

I needed him.

My hands found the buttons of his tunic. The shirt fell away, and he stared at me, stiff and wide-eyed. 

“Nan...” he murmured. “I told you. I’m clueless about all this most of the time.”

“That’s okay. I had some people teach me…” I removed my dress, sitting before him in my bodice and stockings. I brought his fingers to the lace front, guiding him through unknotting it, allowing my chest to breathe.

He gulped, staring at me. “You had someone teach you?”

“Is that okay?”

He nodded, pivoting his gaze away.

I redirected him back at me, and I guided his hand to my skin. He trembled as his fingers circled the curves of my breasts.

“I don’t know what I’m doing...” He laughed again. “Are you sure you want this?” 

“Yes. I want you. I need you, Ryon Barnes. Do you want this?”

He nodded, “I do.” 

I leaned in to kiss him again. “Then trust me.”