“Jumping ’zards, you gave me a fright,” Kiroff says, taking his hand off his belt. “I thought you mighta been one of them Glassies, snuck inside.” I remember Kiroff. He was a year ahead of us in Learning. He didn’t make Hunter until after finishing Learning, when he turned sixteen, four years behind Circ. Still fresh on the job.
Circ laughs. “Come on, do you really believe all that nonsense?”
Kiroff scratches his head. “The Greynotes seemed pretty searin’ serious about it in the briefing. They said all guards had to be extra watchful.”
“So you’re sitting here smoking pipeweed and letting me sneak up on you?” There’s amusement in Circ’s tone.
Kiroff kicks at the durt sheepishly. “It was all I could do to stay awake. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
Circ chuckles. “Nah. That’s why I’m here. They decided to switch it up, change guards more regularly so everyone stays fresh.”
“They didn’t tell me that,” Kiroff says, eyes narrowing.
“Strange,” Circ says. “They must’ve forgotten. Anyway, I’m here to relieve you of your post. I’m on duty till morning. Get some sleep.”
Kiroff seems uncertain at first, his mouth opening and closing, his feet shifting back and forth, but then he shrugs. “Thanks,” he says gratefully. Apparently the thought of some extra sleep won out over any sense of duty.
Kiroff trudges off, in the opposite direction, and Circ waves me over. “We’re in,” he says. Excitement builds in my stomach. Tonight is turning out to be better’n just carrying out my plan.
~~~
I’m not sure how it is during the day, but being inside the Lodge at night is eerie. It’s dark and hollow and feels like we’re inside the belly of a sleeping beast, wind rushing through the endless passageways.
“Around the edge are the weapons rooms, strategy rooms, commanders’ quarters, supply holds and a whole lot of other boring stuff,” Circ explains as we walk down a hallway. It’s weird, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like all the huts in the village’ve been joined together, the walls knocked down so that it’s one, long hut. We reach a corner and turn right. The next side of the square.
“And all the sides are like this?” I ask.
Circ grins, his teeth gleaming in the light from the torch he lit when we entered the main door. “Yeah, but that’s not why I brought you. The real treat is in the middle.”
Instead of taking me all the way to the end of the next passage, Circ stops midway, where another path goes off to the right, further into the belly of the beast. I’d expect it to be darker in there, but it’s not. The air seems to lighten the further in we get, until I see a square of night sky ahead of us.
“Where does this lead?” I ask.
“You’ll see, Circ says, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward, more quickly now.
My heart starts beating faster.
“Close your eyes,” Circ says as we approach the soft light.
I let my eyelids slip shut. I wanna peek, to squint, to cheat, but I resist the urge. Circ’s giving me a treat, after all, he deserves my trust.
I take ten, fifteen, twenty more steps, never stumbling under Circ’s guiding hand. He stops me with a firm touch on my hip. Spring butterflies swirl in my stomach. We’re just friends, just friends, just friends, I think, trying to calm the butterflies. Duty, honor, the Call.
Breeding, Lara says in my head.
“Open your eyes,” he says softly.
I do, gasping at the sight before me.
~~~
When I open my eyes, what I see is beautiful, but scary too, like the skeleton of a long-dead beast, its skin picked clean long ago by carrion-eaters.
We’re in the center of the Hunting Lodge, which is exposed to the night sky. As always, the air is warm, even in the deepest part of the night. The Lodge and its series of rooms and passageways is really just a big, square wall, surrounding the yard we now stand in. Beneath us the durt is hard-packed, trampled by dozens of Hunter feet, their footprints zigzagging this way and that. Wooden beams and walls and crossbeams rise and jut out and connect in an intricate pattern around the perimeter. Under the pale moonlight, that’s what gives the Lodge a skeletal feel, like a mammoth creature has died here, and we’re stuck in the middle of its elongated body. Somewhat scary.
But above us, there’s only beauty. Although I’ve seen the moon and the stars countless times, nothing could compare to now. Something about the quiet protection of the fortress around us seems to magnify the brightness and colors and magnificence of the night sky, framing it all like a picture.
“Lie down,” Circ says softly, pulling me to the durt.
As we have so many times before, Circ and I lie next to each other, hand in hand, staring up, watching the star servants wink and twinkle, flash in, flash out, speak to us.
“Oh,” I murmur. Some of the stars are moving, shooting across the sky, born by wings, or by some extra-world power bestowed upon them by the moon goddess. They arc over us, their brightness leaving dazzling tails behind them, and then disappear beyond the Lodge walls.
“Good timing,” Circ says, sitting up suddenly.
I sit up, too, across from him, still holding his hand, feeling a flutter in my chest.
Everything about Circ is right. The way I feel when I’m ’round him, safe and happy and excited; his easy-on-the-eyes smile that comes quicker’n a pack of Cotees to a fresh kill; his respect for life and all who live in fire country; his loyalty, above all else.
Releasing his hand, I touch my fingertips against the charms dangling from my tug-leather bracelet. The one for Skye. The one for my mother. The one for me, the tree.
The tree. On the night of my Call, I’ll give it to the man I’m Called to be with, to live with, to Bear children with. Not Circ. He’s too young, not eligible yet.
Breeding. The thought of lying with some stranger just to bring more children into this world seems to get more revolting the closer I get to my Call. And having more’n one woman do it with each man? Is that right? It’s the way it’s always been, I know, but that don’t make it right, now does it?
I desperately wanna tear off my charm, give it to Circ, his to keep forever and ever, no matter who I end up with, no matter what the consequences. I’ll tell my father I lost it, that it musta fallen off during the Killer attack. They’ll make me a new one. Circ’ll always have a part of me.
“That’s not the way,” Circ says, touching my finger with his, running it from nail to knuckle to hand, stopping, feeling, exploring. What’s happening? In the name of the sun goddess, how is this possible?
Circ is strong, graceful, important. And I’m…
“Perfect,” Circ says.
“What?” I say, my eyes taking in his.
“Don’t even think those words about yourself. Don’t even joke about them. Not now. Not ever again.”
I search his fathomless brown eyes for a clue as to how he’s doing this, how he’s reading my thoughts as quickly as I think them. The answer’s so obvious I’ve barely scratched the surface of the beauty his gaze hasta offer when I realize it: he knows me better’n I know myself.
I stand up, walk away from him, my mind overworked, practically spinning with Circ’s touch, his eyes, his words. Once when I was a Midder, I overheard Skye ask my mother what a Call should be like. My mother smiled, knelt down, and said, “By the time you die, your Call should know you better than you know yourself.”
Circ already knows everything about me.
But it’s impossible—he can’t be my Call. I can’t let myself wish it, hope it, want it, not for even one second. For down that path lies only heartbreak.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
Lara’s words crash into me like a heavy wind. What if she’s not crazy? What if there’s some truth to what she says. What if whoever she’s working with really does have something to offer me?