Thorns (15 page)

Everyone around me inhaled sharply. I felt as though the air had been sucked from my lungs. They were increasing our quota by half? How would we find the time? We were worked to the bone as it was.

“That is all,” the Mayor said sharply.

We were dismissed.

The crowd parted numbly as I locked gazes with Adam. I wanted to ask him questions, but he gave me an infinitesimal shake of his head. Not here.

We parted ways without speaking. I knew he’d find me later, perhaps even come by the farm tonight. And I needed to find Ann.

I searched the streets for her, but saw no sign of her bright red hood. I passed the quota yard, and beyond it I spotted the walls of the consulate Korr had mentioned. Already, the building gleamed coldly in the sunlight, an alien thing in the midst of our wooden houses. It was going up quickly, much more quickly than I could understand. I wondered with a stab of foreboding what the Watchers would think of this development. Would the extra Farther technology drive them further into a rage?

Finally I gave up on finding Ann. I needed to get home. Jonn and Ivy would be worried sick.

Just as I turned the corner to head for the Cage, a hand grabbed my upper arm. I whirled.

Ann.

“Oh,” I breathed, grabbing her tight. “I was worried—”

She was extra pale today, and her cloak seemed to envelop her slender frame even more than usual. More dark circles ringed her eyes, and the cut on her cheek had scabbed over. “Don’t worry,” she murmured, her eyes darting around as she spoke. “I’m the Mayor’s daughter, remember? They can’t touch me.” But her expression belied her words—she grimaced as she spoke. I noticed her hands looked thinner, more fragile than normal, and her lips were almost colorless.

I took in her appearance. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted. “It’s just all these Watcher attacks…” She averted her eyes as a pair of Farther soldiers passed us. “And…I wanted to ask you something. A favor.”

“Anything,” I said without hesitation.

“The Elder families are gathering for a private party with Officer Raine and Korr. It’s all Raine’s idea, you see…a ploy to prove he is in control here, and we all get along. I will host the gathering at my father’s house.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “We are short a few servants, and I thought—”

My heart turned over as the words sank in. Servants. Shame rushed over me. She wanted me to work in her home as a servant. “Oh.”

Her face pinched. “We’re paying people in food. It will be like quota. And I know you need extra, so I thought…”

In my head, I saw the note again.
Do whatever you can to find out what he wants
.

If I did this, I’d be able to keep an eye on Korr. Wasn’t that what Adam wanted?

“All right,” I said, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth together. It was the most abhorrent idea I’d ever had, but it was an opportunity and I wasn’t going to waste it.

“Yes?” She took a deep breath and let it out. Clearly she’d expected me to refuse. Her relief was palpable. “Thank you, Lia. You’re a true friend.”

Or a true idiot, I thought darkly.

Silence washed between us.

“I’ve seen Everiss,” she said, changing the subject with a note of desperation in her voice, and the way she said it made my stomach twist, because her tone made it sound as if she was warning me to prepare myself. What else could have possibly happened to that family?

“How is she?”

“She…” Ann trailed off and made a useless gesture with one hand. “Well, she’s been avoiding me. But things have been hard for her family.”

“Why would she be avoiding you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen her keeping company with someone and it makes me wonder, though.”

“Did she reconcile with her fiancé?”

“No…the blacksmith’s son. Leon, I think he’s called.”

Understanding pierced me like a knife. I gaped at her as the pieces fell into place. Everiss was avoiding Ann, and hanging out with Leon…

No. It couldn’t be. Everiss and Ann had been close friends since they were babies.

But the certainty gnawed at me, and I felt sick. “Are you absolutely certain she’s avoiding you?”

Ann clasped her arms across her chest and turned her face against the wind. “I’m not the most beloved person right now, Lia, thanks to my connections to the Farthers.”

“Thanks to your
father’s
connections,” I muttered. I looked at the scab on her cheek and my blood simmered. “I don’t understand this madness. Turning on friends, changing loyalties…”

“People have to do what they can to live.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

I squinted at the sun instead of replying. Everiss’s betrayal was too upsetting. I couldn’t pretend to understand it. “I need to get back.”

“Wait,” she said quickly. “I need to speak with you about something.”

I paused, waiting for her to explain. She shook her head. “Not here. Tomorrow, in the garden behind my house? Please.”

“Of course,” I said, but anger was still seething in my veins.

We embraced, and then I headed for the gate, and home.

~

Thoughts swirled thick and fast as snowflakes in my mind as I worked on quota that night. My ruminations jumped between Everiss, Ann, Raine, and Korr…but mostly I thought about Korr. He looked too much like Gabe. They were both from noble families. It was not a coincidence—they must be related. Cousins? Brothers, even? But this man was cruel, calculating, and clearly working with the Aeralian dictator.

What was going on?

Gabe clearly had left out some important details about his life when he’d told me things. This thought clung in my mind like a cobweb, sticking all my other thoughts together, refusing to let me go.

“How can you work as a servant for the Farthers?” Ivy demanded, pacing from the window to my side and breaking into my thoughts. In his chair by the fire, Jonn sat silent and grim. He didn’t look at me as he worked at the yarn. We still weren’t on good terms since our fight.

“It’s for Ann,” I said wearily. I was tired of explaining, and I had not yet told them about the resemblance between Gabe and Korr. The words stuck to my tongue when I tried to speak them. I felt bone-weary and sick. Tossing the yarn down, I went to the window and peered out.

“You’re expecting Adam Brewer?” Jonn asked from his chair. His voice was low, flat.

“I…” I had been hoping he’d come. I hadn’t put out the lantern, but we had things we needed to discuss.

As if on cue, a faint knock sounded at the door.

We all flinched; Jonn and Ivy looked at me. I drew in a deep breath and crossed the room. I paused, my hand hovering over the handle.

A Watcher wouldn’t knock, and a Farther knew better than to wander around at night.

I lifted the bar and pulled it open.

Adam’s dark eyes met mine. He leaned against the frame, his cloak fluttering in the cold wind that swept around him and into the house. Behind him, the snowy yard gleamed silver in the darkness, and I saw the outline of his footprints. Something else crisscrossed the snow, too.

“Watcher tracks?” I whispered.

He nodded with a jerk of his head. That was when I noticed the blood blooming on his sleeve.

“Adam?”

I grabbed his shirt and tugged him inside, slamming the door shut behind me. The chill from the outside air lingered around us as I pulled away the fabric. It was sliced to ribbons and stained a blackish red.

“Was it Watchers?” Ivy ran to my side, her voice squeaking. I felt Jonn’s attention sharpen, and he pushed himself up to see, but he didn’t speak.

Adam met my eyes, and his gaze was full of tiredness and reluctance and something else I couldn’t name, something that tugged at me deep inside. It was as if he were asking me to fix something that had been broken, but not his arm.

“Watchers,” he confirmed, the word almost a sigh.

I helped him to the fire and then hurried into the kitchen for the kettle and a bottle of whiskey. When I returned, he’d already rolled back the torn sleeve of his shirt. Ivy hovered around him, and Jonn had pushed himself up to see. I put the kettle on the boil in case we needed hot water, then sank by Adam’s side and reached for his arm.

The cut was a clean one, almost as if it had been made by a knife. Among the wild things of the Frost, only Watcher claws were so sharp. Rivulets of red beaded along the sliced skin and traced a scarlet path down his forearm.

Adam winced but didn’t make a sound as I dabbed it with whiskey from the kitchen and then bound it with strips of clean rags. He was pale but resolute, and he looked at Jonn as if he were issuing—or accepting—a challenge.

“Are you going to tell us what happened?” I asked after I’d finished.

“A Watcher came out of nowhere. I didn’t see it. I felt the wind rush over my head and heard the growl, and I ran. But the creature caught my arm with its claws.”

“Another attack,” I murmured.

“It’s the presence of the Farthers, isn’t it?” Jonn leaned forward in his chair. “It’s stirring them up. They can sense all the foreignness of the materials, the technology they’ve brought into the village. They’re getting restless.”

Adam raised his eyebrows in silent agreement. “I think so, yes.”

“You knew this,” Jonn continued, his tone turning accusatory. “You knew how the dangers were increasing, and yet you’ve dragged my sister into this mess anyway.”

I turned astonished eyes on him. “Jonn!”

There was a brief, shivering silence. Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I did not drag her into anything,” he said. “She made the choice herself. But we need her. And yes, it is dangerous. I won’t deny it.”

“Our parents
died
, Brewer.”

“Many have died,” Adam said icily. “And Frost dwellers aren’t squeamish about danger. But this isn’t about that, is it? It’s about something else.”

“How dare you—”

“Stop,” I interrupted. “We’re all in danger, and if I don’t do something about the Farthers then it will only get worse. I’m doing this for you, Jonn, and you, Ivy.”

“If we’re all in danger, then why won’t you let me help?” Jonn shouted.

Well. There was the crux of the matter. I was shocked out of a reply at his outburst, so I just looked at him.

“Leave your sister alone,” Adam said. “This is between you and her, and it isn’t about the Thorns.”

“This doesn’t involve you,” Jonn said.

“Both of you,” I snapped. “Stop it.”

They glared at each other. My brother’s breath came in gasps. His gaze slid to my face and then away, and a stain of bright color leaked across his cheekbones. The fire sparked and crackled. Adam glared at the wall, his arms crossed tightly. Ivy made a soft sound that was something between a whimper and a sob, breaking the thick silence.

“Stop,” I said again. “We’re upsetting Ivy.”

“I’m not a child,” she grumbled.

Jonn and Adam glared at each other like two wolves defending their respective territories, but they didn’t say anything else.

My eyes fluttered closed with short-lived relief as the pit of my stomach churned with unease. I felt like a bird caught in a net that was ever-so-slowly tightening. So many opposing loyalties. So many opposing considerations.

When I opened them, Adam was watching me.

I still needed to speak to him about Korr. But how would I find the opportunity with my siblings hovering around?

A plan formed in my head.

“Listen,” I said. “I think you should stay, just like last time. You can make a bed here by the fire.”

“I’ll be fine—”

I touched his shoulder. “Your arm is injured, it’s very cold, and the Watchers are still out there. Stay, Adam. Don’t be foolish.”

He looked at my hand on his arm and then at my face, and I couldn’t interpret his expression. “All right,” he said slowly.

“All right,” I repeated, withdrawing my hand. “Good. We’ll make you a bed by the fire just like before.”

I gathered up the yarn and put it away while Ivy climbed the steps to our room. Jonn fumbled with his crutches.

“I’ll get the blankets for Adam,” Ivy said.

Adam shoved his hands in his pockets. He filled the room with his presence, and the scent of pine and snow permeated the air. My gaze kept straying to him as I cleared up our quota and packed it in a basket. Jonn caught me looking, and his brow furrowed. I bit my lip and turned away as my cheeks reddened.

My sister returned with her arms full of blankets. “I need more quilts,” she announced.

“There’s some in Ma and Da’s room,” Jonn said, and threw me a meaningful look.

He hobbled for the door, and I followed. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, watching as he limped to the bed.

“Jonn…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, without turning around. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. I’m just…scared.”

“I know.”

He slumped back on the bed and stared hard at the ceiling. “I can’t do anything. I can’t help you, protect you, nothing. I’m useless.”

My voice cracked. “You’re not useless—”

“You’d better get him these blankets.” He tugged at one of his quilts, pushing it toward me. My mother’s Frost quilt, all shades of white and silver with a ribbon of black cutting through it.

I grabbed the blanket and bunched it in my arms, searching for the right words to say to him as I hugged the quilt close and inhaled its scent. “You understand why I’m doing it, don’t you? Why I’m working with the Thorns?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I understand,” he said finally, and his voice rasped with emotion. “I just wish…”

He left the last bit unspoken. We both knew what he wished. No reason to say it out loud.

“I’d better get this to Adam.” I patted the quilt, suddenly eager to be out of the room as awkwardness filled it.

Jonn frowned. “Are you sure about what you’re doing there?”

“What do you mean?” I squeaked, avoiding his eyes.

He just shrugged.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, gathering my thoughts and emotion up and stuffing them deep inside me. I took a deep breath and returned to the main room.