Weavers (The Frost Chronicles) (6 page)

~

The Brewers lived at the edge of the river that separated the Frost from Aeralis and beyond. I struggled through the snowdrifts alongside the black water, my lungs burning from exertion and my hands tingling from the cold. Finally, I spotted the low roofs of the Brewer farm. I surged toward them in relief.

A long, low-built log house backed up against a wooded hill. A barn and several paddocks formed two arms that enclosed an open space set up with wooden targets and a dummy stuffed with straw. At my approach, the front door of the house opened and a figure stepped outside.

“Lia Weaver?” It was Abel, Adam’s brother.

“I’m looking for Adam,” I said, stepping past the targets and around the dummy. “Is he here?”

“He’s in the barn.” His eyes followed me as I crossed the yard to the barn door. The hinges creaked, and a puff of warm air that smelled like oiled leather and dirt rushed over me. I saw someone hanging from a beam in a flood of sunlight that poured from a window set high in the wall.

“Adam?”

He dropped to the ground and faced me. He was wearing a black shirt and trousers. Exertion had tousled his hair, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his brow. His eyes swept over me, and the expression in them was impossible to read.

“You found my note, I see,” he said finally, reaching for a cloth to wipe his face.

I nodded and stepped into the light, letting the door shut behind me. Most of the straw had been cleared away to reveal a polished wooden floor. Beams and ladders lined the walls, and thick knotted ropes dangled from the ceiling. It was Adam’s training ground. I did not come here often.

I almost didn’t catch the bundle of cloth he tossed at my head.

“Get dressed,” he said. “We have work to do.”

I pulled on the clothing in one of the empty barn stalls. Wearing boy’s trousers always felt strange, but in a wonderful way. I had a freedom of movement that I’d never experienced before I’d begun training with Adam. Why women didn’t wear trousers all the time, I didn’t know. They were marvelous.

Adam made me climb the ropes and balance on the beams until sweat poured down my back and bathed my face in a sheen of sweat. “What is the purpose of this?” I demanded more than once, growling with effort as I tried for the third time to climb a thick, knotted rope to touch the ceiling of the barn. I could only ascend halfway up the length of rope before I was too exhausted to continue.

“Physical strength. Dexterity. The ability to run, climb, escape if necessary.”

“From Watchers?” I let go and dropped to the floor with a grunt.

“From anything,” he said, and pointed to the next obstacle. A long, flat board stretched between two ladders. I climbed onto it gingerly and peered over the side. The ground was very far away. My stomach turned.

“Does Atticus know about my training?” I asked between breaths as I tried to cross the beam without falling. I glanced at Adam and almost fell, but I caught myself.

He frowned at the mention of Atticus, but when he spoke, his voice was smooth and devoid of any inflection that might betray his emotions. “Atticus only knows what concerns him as leader, and this is not a matter of his concern.”

I had my doubts about that, but I kept quiet about them. And why didn’t he want Atticus to know I was training? Did I dare broach the topic of their previous acquaintance? “You and Atticus…you knew each other before, in Aeralis?”

“Yes.” Adam’s response was clipped. He grabbed my hands and helped me down from the beam, then released me abruptly and stepped back. I felt the distance between us keenly. He turned away, and I stared at his back.

“You don’t seem to be friends.”

“We were compatriots.” He handed me a cloth to wipe my face without looking at me.

That wasn’t really an answer. I bit my lip as he gestured for me to climb the rope again. My arms were shaking from exhaustion, but I hoisted myself up anyway. The muscles in my shoulders and back screamed in protest. “In the barn...he seemed to be alluding to something…”

“That’s enough,” Adam said, and I didn’t know if he meant the exercise or the conversation. I let go of the rope and dropped to the floor, panting.

“No more for today,” he said. “I don’t want you to overdo it.”

I bent over to catch my breath, and he moved past me and began fiddling with the equipment. When I spoke again, my voice came out low and quiet.

“Do you trust him?”

Adam froze.

I straightened, watching him. He didn’t speak at first. His hands were still against the ropes. “Of course I trust him. He is a member of the Thorns. He’s dedicated his life to the organization, and I’ve seen proof of that again and again.”

“Do you want to do what he says?” I pressed, remembering the way Adam had acted in my barn, all still and formal when Atticus had assumed control.

Adam turned to face me. He lifted one eyebrow. “He is my superior. I don’t have a choice. And neither do you.”

I didn’t find that answer satisfactory, but it was clear that the conversation was finished.

~

Jonn, Ivy, Everiss, and I finished the last of the bread and leftover squirrel stew that night for dinner. We all ate slowly, chewing carefully, savoring each bite, and sucking the juice from our fingers.

The table was quiet. Jonn wouldn’t look at me, and neither would Everiss. They were avoiding each other’s eyes, too. Ivy stared at her plate and wouldn’t speak to anyone. The only sound in the house was the clink of utensils against the dishes and crackle of the fire on the hearth. The wind rattled the shutters and made the walls creak, and faintly in the distance I heard the low moan of a Watcher.

Ivy tensed at it.

We all held our breath and listened, but the sound faded and did not come again. I relaxed slightly. I looked at my brother until he lifted his head, and our eyes met.

He frowned but didn’t look away this time.

We needed to talk. I blinked at him, and I knew he understood.

“Is there anything else?” Ivy asked, reaching into the bowl.

“That’s the last of the meat,” I said. “And the potatoes.”

“There’s never enough food anymore,” she said, falling back in her chair. Her voice crackled as if she was going to cry. “I’m so hungry all the time.”

“The Farthers eat most of it,” I said. “And we have an extra mouth to feed now.”

Everiss turned her head and fiddled with a tendril of hair. Jonn’s mouth tightened. “Lia—”

“Maybe I should start going to the school in town,” Ivy interrupted.

“What?” I gaped at her.

She lifted her chin. “They’ll give us food.”

“No. Absolutely not. They brainwash the students there.”

“I’m not stupid,” she said. “I know they teach lies. I won’t believe them. I won’t listen.”

“Ivy—”

“I don’t want to starve to death!” she burst out. “Do you?”

I flinched. Jonn and I looked at each other. He pressed his lips together and didn’t speak.

“I’ll go into the woods tomorrow, check the traps again,” I said finally, with a sigh. “You can find more berries—”

“It’s never enough,” she said. Her voice was a whisper, full of dread and strong with certainty. Something twisted in the pit of my stomach, because she was right. It wasn’t ever enough. We needed more food. Still, she couldn’t go to Raine’s military Farther school. She couldn’t. Just the thought made bile rise in my throat.

Everiss sat very still through the entire conversation. Her mouth trembled, and her hands looked small and fragile in her lap. Slowly, involuntarily, she raised one to rub her shoulder where she’d been shot a few weeks ago. The silence shivered and stretched until I could barely stand it. Finally, Ivy rose and reached for the plates. “I’ll do the dishes,” she announced, her tone subdued.

Everiss grabbed the cups. “I’ll help you.” She crossed the room after my sister without looking at either of us. I saw the blush staining the back of her neck. She was ashamed that she was eating our food.

Jonn and I waited until they’d moved into the kitchen.

“Jonn,” I said. “She can’t do it. She can’t go to that Farther school. She’s so impressionable, what if they turn her into one of them? What if they infiltrate her mind with their lies?”

He gazed at me, his expression shrewd. “But what if she’s right? What if we need this?”

“We’ll find food somehow,” I said. “Some other way. I’ll learn to hunt. I’ll trap more. I’ll speak to Ann—”

“Our sister has grown up in the last month,” he said. “She’s been through a great deal, and she’s learned.”

“She’s still too young.” I knotted my hands into fists and stared at them. Atticus, our lack of food, my sister’s safety, Everiss...everything. My eyes burned, and my chest squeezed tight.

“What is it?” he murmured. “You’re upset. More Watchers in the woods?”

I struggled to find a response, but nothing came. I just felt unsettled. Uneasy. It was this bad feeling I sensed between Adam and Atticus, and the secrecy involved. But I couldn’t tell him about it, not yet. I just shook my head.

“How is the search coming?” I asked, glancing at the stack of journals and papers beside the table.

Jonn brushed a few crumbs from the table with his hand. He took his time answering. “I believe Da included instructions about how to use the PLD in one of his journals, just as he included clues about where to find it in the riddles he told us. But like I said before, I don’t know how to unravel the code in what he’s written. There are a few cryptic mentions of a key to decoding the journals, but I don’t know where it might be. It’s missing.”

Just as Adam had suspected.

“Do you think perhaps the Mayor has it? If Da was carrying it when he was shot, and Cole—”

“Not the Mayor,” I said. “Not anymore.”

I needed to pay Korr’s private quarters a visit.

MY HEAD ACHED and my muscles burned from the previous day’s physical exertion as I headed for the village the next morning. The unease I’d felt last night had not dissipated with sleep. Bad feelings still lapped at the edges of my mind, and worry gnawed a hole in my stomach, but I pushed the feelings away. I had other things to deal with besides the mess of feelings stewing in my chest. I used to be sensible, hardened, practical. Now look at me. I was practically a sniveling mess—worrying about Adam, worrying about Jonn and Everiss, worrying about everything and everyone. Worry, worry, worry. Was this what caring did to people? It made me feel weak.

Grinding my teeth together, I moved faster down the path. The edges of my cloak brushed the snow blossoms that lined the path. The sack of quota thumped against my shoulder, and a cool wind teased my face and played with the edges of my cloak. Everywhere, the forest was dripping.

I felt restless. The weather made my blood itch with longing, although I didn’t know what that longing might be. I thought about the PLD and what we planned to do with it. Could we really find Gabe? Just thinking his name made my chest simmer with anxious anticipation. We didn’t know where the gate had taken them, only that they were all together wherever they were. Would he want to come back? Would he want me?

The last thought cropped up unbidden, and I stopped on the path.

Gabe and I…we had never declared anything regarding our feelings. We’d known from the start that our love was doomed, that he must leave, that I was a Frost dweller and he was a Farther and that those two things were as compatible as fire and water. We had loved fiercely with the full knowledge that every moment was a stolen one and that every word might be the last. I didn’t regret it, either. Knowing Gabe, and caring for him, had awakened a fire in me that had burned into a beacon of life, incinerating my reluctance and fear in the flames of justice and passion.

I wasn’t sorry I’d loved him.

But I didn’t know how I felt now, either. Could I love him again? Could he still love me?

Would he want to be with me?

Adam clearly seemed to think so, which was why he refused to address the feelings between us. And I…I didn’t know what I thought, or what I wanted. Everything was in a muddle in my head.

I shook my head and began walking again. This was silly. It wasn’t as if Gabe was standing before me, offering marriage. I had no idea what he wanted. And this pining…it was useless. I had other things to worry about. Korr. Blackcoats. Everiss. Raine. And now, Atticus.

Yanking my attention to more pressing matters, I mulled over Adam’s words about our new Thorns leader as I turned the corner of the path and entered the Cages. There was something between them, something Adam didn’t want to admit. It made my stomach twist with apprehension. I didn’t like being in the dark like this—how was I supposed to know what to do if Adam wouldn’t let me in?

I entered the village and headed through the cobbled streets for the quota yard. The sound of chanting drifted on the wind as I passed the new school, and a shudder ran down my spine. Through the windows, I saw the children in their uniforms, like little rows of Farther soldiers decked out in matching gray and brass. Their mouths moved in unison as they intoned facts about Aeralis, and the Farther teacher, a thin man with a withered neck and piercing black eyes, paced down one of the aisles. He brandished a ruler in his hand like a weapon. One of the children looked out the window and saw me. I put my head down and hurried on.

Lines filled the quota yard already. Villagers holding firewood, cloth, and other goods shuffled their feet against the cold and tried not to make eye contact with the soldiers as they delivered their bundles of supplies to the quota master and received their allotments of food in return. Across the yard, I spotted Adam Brewer, but he didn’t acknowledge me. The wind stirred his dark hair across his eyes, and I bit my lip as something painful panged deep in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t handsome, not by any objective standard, but the way he moved and spoke and smiled—the way he slid his gaze over me—lit my blood on fire whenever I caught sight of him.

Jonn needed to speak with him. I dared not approach Adam in the village, not like this, but I could pass him a signal. I curled my fingers into a crooked shape of a Y and flashed them against my cloak. Had he seen it? I couldn’t tell—Adam’s expression never changed. He slipped away into the crowd, and I moved forward in line and gave my quota to the quota master while the Farther soldiers flanking him watched.