~~~
I try to act natural as I head to Learning, but I know I’m walking way too fast. Most Younglings dawdle, drag their feet, look for anything to distract them. Me, I’m head forward, taking shortcuts, making record time. I’m hoping Circ’ll be early too.
When I enter the roofless structure, my head swivels ’round expectantly. Empty. I was so fast I even beat Circ. No matter. I’ve waited a a quarter full moon—I can wait a while longer.
I sit cross-legged in the back corner, a highly-coveted spot conducive to mischief and whispered conversations.
I hear footfalls and Lara enters. Her hair is even shorter, cut almost to the scalp. Maybe she did shave it all the way to the skin and I missed it, only seeing it now that it’s grown while I been away. I expect her to sit next to me, to start talking my ear off and asking questions ’bout Confinement, but she silently takes her normal seat near the front of the room.
Odd.
Silence.
Teacher Mas enters carrying a bundle of scrolls, glances at me, moves to the front.
Where’s Circ? It must be getting close to Learning time, but it’s still just me and Lara. Dreadfully silent.
The silence is broken when a chorus of voices and scrapes and laughter carry in from outside. Younglings pour into the open-air hut, talking and bumping and shouting. I scan the crowd, my heart leaping as I expect Circ to head for me at any second. I get some curious stares, but no one approaches me until—
“Mind if I sit?” Hawk says.
I curl my lips in disgust. “Keep moving,” I say.
“I got a message from Circ,” he says, cupping a hand over his mouth, as if someone might be reading his lips.
“You’re full of it,” I say, refusing to take the bait. I sense there’s a punchline coming.
“I ain’t lyin’!” he protests. “I owe him, all right?”
Everyone’s inside now. Everyone ’cept Circ. Maybe Hawk does know something ’bout where he is. Even though I may be setting myself up for embarrassment, I’m willing to risk it. “Okay. Sit,” I say.
“Look, I ain’t your friend, or Circ’s neither, so don’t get the wrong idea,” Hawk says.
“Just spit it out, Hawk,” I say, refusing to look at him.
“Fine. When you got drug away to Confinement, Circ got sent on another mission.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “What other mission?” I say.
“Like the last one,” he says. “A small one. Just a few Hunters.”
My eyes narrow and I glance at him. Teacher starts talking so I lean close to his ear, dropping my voice to a whisper. “How do you know ’bout that? It was secret.”
“I’m a Hunter, remember?” Right. He might know more’n I give him credit for. “Anyway, it don’t matter. Circ left, okay?” I nod. Okay.
“How long ago?” Teacher’s attention is on t’other side of the room. Lara’s answering whatever question he asked.
“That’s the thing. He left the same day you did. The mission was only s’posed to be three days. None of ’em have come back yet.”
~~~
My head’s hot, but not ’cause I’m sitting in the sun.
I don’t have a clue what happened in Learning. It was all a blur. Thankfully, Teacher didn’t ask me any questions, ’cause I don’t know if I coulda spoken, or even understood them.
Circ’s been gone seven days on a three-day mission.
Normally, I’d be worried but I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but this time is different. He’s in Killer country. And it’s my father that sent him there.
Anger curls my toes and boils in my stomach.
“He did this on purpose,” I growl under my breath. A group of Youngling girls who’re chatting a mile a moment outside the Learning Hut look at me strangely and laugh. I wanna go over and punch them. I stand, seething, consider heading in their direction, but think better of it. Not only would I lose a fight against five other girls, but I’d end up in Confinement again. Now that I know what I know, that’s the last place I wanna be.
I’m lost in a sea of nothingness.
Everywhere I look people are going ’bout their business, washing clothes, cooking food, repairing tents. Kids are laughing, playing, running off all the pent up energy from another boring day of Learning. But none of it means anything with Circ missing.
I don’t know where to go or what to do when I get there, what to say or who to say it to. I’m empty.
My father.
I could confront him, give him a piece of my mind, but not only would that not bring Circ back, but that’s exactly what he wants. He wants to get under my skin, to see that he’s not only the controller of my life, but of my mind too. That he can make me angry and sad and upset. I won’t give him that pleasure.
There’s only one other option then. Something I wouldn’t have considered a year ago ’cause I was just a scared little girl. But now I’m desperate, on the verge of becoming a Bearer without my best friend to talk to ’bout it. My best friend who kissed me, who held me, who changed me. If my mother says I hafta go after what I want, then that’s what I’m gonna do.
I’m going after Circ.
Even as I make my mind up, breathless and scared and excited ’bout the decision, a cry goes up from the tower guards. I’m not that close to the edge of town, but they’re yelling pretty loud. I crane my head, waiting to hear it. Waiting, waiting, waiting: for the bells. The guards’ll shout ’bout pretty much anything—a harmless burrow mouse scampering across the desert, an increase in the winds, a sneaky shilt and her guy out for a midnight rendezvous outside the border tents—but they’ll only ring the bells if there’s imminent danger to the village. Like when the Glassies attacked. Or during the Killer War. Sandstorms and wildfires receive a bell-toll too.
Their shouts grow more urgent, but there’s no bell. No danger. Not for the village. But they keep shouting. I scan the towers that poke like fingers into the air, high above the village. They’re all yelling to each other, trying to get information through the chain, from whichever guard spotted something worth yelling ’bout. Every guard is still in his tower—’cept one. My eyes lock on the empty tower, slide down its ladder, focus on the guard frantically climbing down.
I run in that direction.
~~~
I don’t know what comes over me, but I run like the wind. It’s gusting at my back and then it’s gone, like I’ve outdistanced it, leaving me sprinting past surprised villagers in a calm bubble.
It’s him. I know it. Circ and t’other men on the mission have returned. Rushing to see Circ’ll not go down well with my father, but I hafta. I hafta see his smiling and dimpled face, hafta hear his laugh, hafta smell the dust on his skin.
Reaching the tower at almost the same time as the watchman reaches the bottom rung, I ignore his shout as I fly past him, out into the desert. If we’re under attack, I’m rushing straight to death. There were no bells, I remind myself. No attack.
I peer across the winter wasteland, feeling the wind catch up to me as I slow my pace, swirling around my feet, swishing my dress back and forth. I see them.
The Hunters coming back from their mission. A small group. Pitifully small considering they might be facing Killers. Five men. Four walking—no, trudging, heavy-footed and on the verge of collapse. And one being carried horizontally across another’s shoulders. Something bad happened to these Hunters.
I rush forward, squinting to make out the faces. When I get close enough to see details, I realize: none of the four walking are Circ.
An exhausted groan slips from my throat. Not him. Please, sun goddess, please, I pray. It’s been sunny all day, not a cloud in the sky, but at that moment, just after my silent plea, the world goes dim. I look up, feeling fear and dread in my heart, as a mountain of dark clouds blot out the sun as completely as if it were dusk.