The Scourge (8 page)

“Is that how she died?” I ask.

“Believe it or not, she survived.”

“How?”

“It’s a long story. Sure you wouldn’t rather get some sleep?”

I’m worn out, but I’ve only heard a few stories of sighted people who survive the Scourge, and most were from before I was born. None were about Lofties. Hazily, I realize
I
almost didn't survive this time. Could the Three possibly have known my protection would fail when I fell asleep? Did Aloe know? She wouldn’t have allowed my punishment then, would she? I rest my head against the gnarled tree bark, too tired to contemplate all the possibilities.

“I’d like to hear it,” I say.

Peree’s voice drifts across the narrow, dark space between us. “From what I’ve heard, Mother was always asking questions as a girl: why we have to stay in the trees; why we can’t walk on the ground or swim in the water; why we don’t allow Groundlings in the trees; why we always hide when the Scourge comes. She asked hard questions, and she didn’t like the answers she got. As she grew up, she went looking for different answers.”

“What did she do?”

“She started leaving the trees without permission, to take walks on the ground.”

“Really? Why?” The Lofties didn’t leave the safety of the trees other than to bathe or to collect water when the Scourge was gone. They usually kept it short, and hurried back up like panicked squirrels when the task was done. Of course, we wouldn’t allow them to stay on the ground for long, either.

“Shrike said at first she wanted to prove she could. Then she wanted to prove we
all
could—leave the trees, spend time on the ground—when the Scourge wasn’t here. The Council was livid when they found out what she was doing. They talked to her, reasoned with her, threatened her. They even gave me to her to foster, hoping being a mother would tame her. They were wrong. She was a good mother—kind, caring—but being a mother didn’t stop her. My parents had to give up a baby in the Exchange a few years after they got me. Mother supposedly left the trees even more often after that. My father said he worried constantly, that she might be consumed by the Scourge, or grabbed by a Groun–” He stops, as if he remembered who he’s talking to.

I’m startled. I never considered the Lofties might be afraid of us.
They
were the ones lurking in the trees with their bows and arrows, shooting people at will. Then again, I thought, we creep around on the ground with our spears, superior hunting skills, and fire-setting torches. Maybe I could understand their concern, a little.

“Anyway,” Peree hurries on, “the Council lost patience with her. They said if she was so comfortable on the ground, she could stay and see how she liked it.” His voice is harder now, more bitter. “The punishment was meant to be for one night, but she was gone more than a week.”

I almost choke. “A week? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know, she wouldn’t talk about it. Mother was different when she came back, more serious. She did her work, didn’t ask questions anymore. The Council figured they’d found a cure for her curiosity.”

“What did you think?”

“It seemed like she was waiting for something, something that never happened. She was always watching the ground . . . My parents began to quarrel. One night, they had a fierce argument. I remember being cold. I wanted them to lie down; it was warmer when we all slept together. Then, sometime during the night, she hugged me, and told me she loved me. The next morning she was gone. I think about that night, and I wish I’d done something, anything, other than rolling over and going back to sleep.” Peree sounds . . . vulnerable. Like a child. My heart breaks for him.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“I wish I knew what was so important on the ground that she’d leave, give up her life, because of it. I’ve been looking down ever since, hoping to figure it out.”

“What was her name?” I ask.

“Blaze, and it fit her well. She had red-blonde hair, like tendrils of flames. She was beautiful.”

“And brave, from the sound of it.”

“Maybe even reckless.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Aloe had suddenly disappeared.”

“You’re close to her, then?”

“I thought I was, but now I don’t know. Things have been different between us since the Scourge came.”

“How so?”

I shrug. “She hasn’t been talking to me. It seems like she’s distancing herself–”

“Right when you need her most.”

I nod, gratified that Peree understands how I’m feeling. I’m angry. Angry at the Council for punishing me in front of the whole community, and angry at Aloe for going along with it without even talking to me. Ever since she joined the Three I feel like I don’t know her at all. “Peree, do you know who my natural parents are? I thought someone might remember when I was born, because of my Sightlessness.”

“I don’t know . . . you’re about seventeen?” I nod in answer. “That’s what Shrike said. I would have been pretty young when you were given up.”

“Is Shrike your father?” I ask. “I thought he might be when we first met. He sounded so proud of you.”

“He just wanted credit for his coaching abilities,” Peree says, his voice warm again. “He’s impressed with you. He thinks you’ll be a strong, reliable Water Bearer, like Aloe. Others agree.”

I flush at the compliment. “I’m not sure
my
people have so much faith in me.” My voice drops. “I’m not sure I have that much faith in myself. When do you think the Scourge will go?”

“I wish I knew. It can’t be much longer though, can it? Speaking of the creatures, let me see the bite.” I offer my arm to him. He unwraps the bandage and moves closer to look at it with only the illumination of the moon. “How does it feel?”

“It still aches, but not bad. Why do you think I didn’t change?”

“Because you’re protected? Because it didn’t break the skin? I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m just glad I don’t need this anymore.” I hear him sheath a knife that I didn’t know he had. The sound is chilling. He rewraps my arm. “So, why did you ask me about the fleshies’ hair?”

I fidget with the worn hem of my dress, reluctant to tell him what I heard.

“What is it, Fenn? What happened down there?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I won’t. Tell me.” He leans closer. That succulent, honeysuckle smell again.

The words tumble out. “I thought I heard one of them speak to me. She asked me for help. It sounded like the partner of the man you shot.”

He whistles softly. “Are you sure? Could you have misheard?”

“Maybe.” I draw my knees up under my dress, hugging them to my body. We always thought someone couldn’t change back, once they began to change. But what if that was Rose I heard? Could we have saved her? Does it take longer to change than we think? Does that mean there’s still a chance
I
could change? I touch my arm.

“Will you tell Aloe?” Peree asks. I’m not sure if he means about Rose, or the bite.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what any of it means yet.”
And I don’t know if I can trust Aloe anymore.
I’m ashamed by the thought. Of course I can still trust her. Can’t I?

“Our Councils will need to know if you hear anything like that again. It might mean something’s changing with the Scourge.”

I rest my chin on my knees and rub my eyes. They’re even grittier now.

“You should sleep,” he says. “Would you like me to tell you a story? A bedtime story?”

I smile, and slide down to lie on my side, resting my head on my good arm. “What animal will it be this time? You said you’d tell me about the sheep.”

He laughs. “I have a different story in mind. This was one of my mother’s favorites. Have you heard of a cassowary?”

“Tell me.” I close my eyes, listening to the hum of the crickets in the trees. The fleshies don’t bother
them
, either. Lucky Lofties, lucky bugs.

“The cassowary was a bird, an unusual bird, that once lived in the forests. It had thick black feathers on its body; a bare, bright-blue head and neck; and it wore a crown. It was as tall as a person, fast, and a fighter, but it couldn’t fly. It made its home on the ground.”

“A fighting, flightless bird as big as a person?” I snort. “That’s impossible.”

“Maybe so. It’s a story. Who knows which ones are true and which aren’t? But this is the story Mother told me.” He settles back against the tree next to me. “There once was a hunter who could take down any animal in the forest. He would sit in the trees for days, waiting for prey, without stirring or even blinking. At first the animals avoided him, but eventually they forgot he was there. When they came a little too close, he’d raise his bow and arrow and strike.

“One day, the hunter went into the forest to hunt for game. He found a tall tree next to a water hole, and prepared himself for a long wait. At midnight he saw his prize. Five giant cassowaries came to the edge of the water hole and circled around it in a happy dance. Very slowly, the hunter took aim at the plumpest bird. Suddenly, all five birds slipped off their feather coats to swim, revealing themselves to be five beautiful sisters. The hunter, who’d trained himself to be completely still while hunting, trembled at the sight. The youngest woman, in particular, was so beautiful, he knew he had to make her his partner. At midnight the next night, the cassowaries came to the water hole again. The hunter watched as they slipped off their coats of feathers. When the youngest sister swam across the pond, he left the trees, and stole her coat.

“After their swim, the women returned, and the youngest sister realized her coat of feathers was not where she left it. Her sisters tried to help her find it, but they were sleepy and wanted to go back to their nest. ‘Go home,’ the youngest sister told them. ‘When I find my coat, I'll join you.’ Once her sisters were out of sight, the hunter walked up to the girl, holding her coat in his hand. ‘Is this what you're looking for?’ he asked, smiling. ‘Yes,’ the cassowary woman replied, ‘May I have it back?’ The hunter shook his head, and walked away. The girl followed, begging him to give back her feathers. He led her far away, to his home. When they reached it, she fell down in exhaustion. The hunter carried her to bed and covered her in a warm blanket.

“When the young woman woke up days later, the hunter fed her hot soup and tended to her every need. But she asked only for her coat of feathers. ‘It’s lost,’ he said. ‘I can’t find it.’ So the cassowary woman decided to stay with the hunter until she regained her strength and could find her lost feathers. Slowly, the girl’s memories of her life as a cassowary began to fade until, when the hunter eventually asked her to partner with him, she couldn’t think of a reason to refuse him. Within the year she gave birth to a child. For three years, the hunter, the cassowary woman, and their son lived happily together.

“One day, while the young woman was cleaning their home, she discovered a box hidden in a hole in the dirt floor. She pulled the box out of the ground, opened it, and found her coat of cassowary feathers inside. As she stroked the black feathers, the woman remembered she had once been a bird, living free with her sisters. She slipped the coat on and instantly turned into a cassowary again. Flapping her wings with joy, she raced outside as her family was coming back after a day in the forest. ‘Look,’ said the little boy, pointing to the cassowary. ‘What a pretty bird!’ Recognizing the feathers, the hunter shouted, ‘Please, don’t go!’ But it was too late. The cassowary had remembered who she was.” Peree stops. The crickets are silent too, as if they were listening.

“Such a strange story,” I slur, already half asleep.

I dream of flying again. But this time when I take to the air, my head and neck are a brilliant blue, my feathers a glossy black. And nothing impedes my powerful wings as I soar across the sparkling water.

He grips my arms, steadying me. “Easy, you’re all right.” His voice is husky with sleep, his hands warm against my chilled skin.

“I need to go, I need to get down. Someone might see us.”

“It’s early, no one’s awake yet.”

“Still.” I was so frightened and exhausted last night; I would have gone anywhere the Scourge wasn’t. Now that I’m safe, well-rested—and still human—being in the trees feels very wrong.

His hands stay on my arms. “Was it that bad, then, spending the night with me?”

I laugh nervously, and turn my back to him, finding a rope handrail running above the edge of the walkway. I hold it with both hands to settle myself. Peree stands behind me and places his hands on top of mine. My heart lurches, but I don’t move away.

Instead, I turn my hands over and braid my fingers through his. Scars covering calluses covering scars. I listen for sounds of the flesh-eaters below, but I only hear birds singing in the swaying branches.

“I should go,” I say again.

He leads me down the walkway and helps me loop the rope around myself. I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. As he lowers me down, I don’t feel like I’m flying so much as falling. And instead of being happy when my feet finally touch the ground, I’m disappointed. I want to be up in the trees again, with him.

The community is meeting, trying to decide what to do. I sit with Bear in my usual spot, leaning back against the rock wall. I’m only half-listening. It doesn’t matter what they decide; I’ll still have to collect the water.

Unbelievably, no one discovered I spent the night in the trees. I slunk back to the cave that morning, the bite wrapped and hidden under the sleeve of my dress. Unsure what kind of reception I would receive, I was astonished when the Three publicly forgave me. Grudges lead to hostilities that a small community like ours can’t afford, Aloe explained. I try to let go of
my
hard feelings, too, but it’s not easy.