Phoenix’s Fire (The Ruins Of Men #2)

Chapter 67

Sixty-Seven

Callah

T hat evening, Tobias came to my room, asking if I'd walk with him, but when I stepped into the hall, my stomach growled loudly. It was doing that more often, and the water I'd been drinking was no longer silencing it. He ducked his head to hide his smile, proving he'd heard it.

"So, I was wondering if you'd like to share a snack with me?" he asked.

"Very much," I admitted, reaching up for his arm. "If you'd like, I can tell you about our lesson today. It seems Ms. Lawton is preparing us all to wed soon."

He grunted at that. "I see."

"And I've learned you have options, Mr. Warren."

That made his steps falter. "I do?"

"Rebekka Waters seems to think you're an appealing prospect."

He sighed. "I remember her."

"If you want to change your mind," I said, ready to pull my hand back.

But he caught it, pressing his hand firmly where mine rested on his arm. "I don't."

"I know she wasn't supposed to turn until next year, so if the new rules..." My words trailed off, because what if he did want to marry her? I'd started this as a way of teasing him, and my own words were now making me worried.

"Callah," he said, leaning in, "I am not interested in the basket girl. She thinks I'm a fool, likes the idea of pushing me around, and brags about how good she'll be as a wife. None of that appeals to me."

I nodded, feeling a little of my worry vanish, but not all of it. Yet I couldn't talk about that out here. So I said nothing as we continued into the dining hall. Tobias led me to the far corner, then handed me down into a seat, promising he'd be right back.

I leaned back against the wall, scanning the handful of people in here. Two were older men sitting under the tail. They laughed softly, clearly telling stories to each other like a pair of friends. In the opposite corner, over by the kitchen, Emalee was talking with a boy from sermon. I was pretty sure he was our age, so he'd be eligible to marry soon if he wanted.

Men didn't have to marry, though. Tobias said they weren't pressured to find a wife until they were twenty-five, and even then, it was little more than random reminders. Thirty was when the Council of Elders began to pressure a man to produce children. Until that age, he could enjoy the privileges of adulthood without the responsibilities of a family if he chose.

"You okay?" Tobias asked as he set down a large bowl of vegetable mash, then claimed the chair beside me.

I quickly scooped up a bite and swallowed it down. "Ms. Lawton took us to the wives' facilities today and talked to us about our marriages," I said, pausing for another bite. "Then Rebekka got angry because we were encouraged to share what we knew about our options. You know, like who's cruel and who's kind."

"It's a good idea," Tobias said. "Why was Rebekka angry?"

"Because she wants you," I breathed.

He huffed out a laugh. "Callah, I don't want her. In truth, I don't want to marry you, but I will. I mean, at least we're friends, and I'm hoping - "

"It won't work!" I blurted out, the words coming out louder than I expected.

He quickly looked around, then leaned forward, positioning himself as if we were having a serious discussion. In a way we were, but a few eyes had turned our way, which meant I'd been too loud.

"Sorry," I breathed.

He nodded. "You're just upset because you wanted our own marriage, not a shared one," he assured me. "Now tell me why it won't work?"

"Because if ten to twenty women all attack our husbands - "

"Why would they do that?" he asked.

I huffed at him in annoyance. "Because it worked for Ayla. Because she and Meri were banished, and that fate seems better than these rushed marriages. Because the girls are all talking about it - and some of the widows. Oh, Tobias, you have no idea how worried most women are right now."

"Okay," he said, sounding like he was taking that in. "So what do we do, Callah? I proposed so you could stab me and get out. We know Ayla's up there, and you told me those women offered to say something for you. To call for banishment."

"Well, yeah..." I pushed the bowl away as my anxiety slammed into me.

He pushed it back. "You need to eat. I've seen the pittance they give you, and I've been watching as your shoulders turn pointy." He poked the bone over my arm to make his point. "Callah, you have to eat. I don't care if you're trying to be appealing or something."

"I'm so damned scared that my guts feel like they want to empty," I whispered.

He nodded. "So we sit here longer, saying we were planning our marriage suite. You eat when you can, and someone complains, I'll say I wouldn't let you go. "

I pulled the bowl closer and took a little taste. "See, that's part of my problem. I can't go. I used to think it was just us. That Meri, Ayla, and I were the only ones who weren't happy here. That because we'd listened to Ayla's stories, we'd been corrupted, and everyone else was happy - but I was wrong."

"So why does that mean you can't go?" he asked.

Using my spoon, I pressed at the mash, filling in the spot where I'd taken my previous bites. "I know the girls. I've met some of the wives, and a few of the widows. I'm a healer, and you said you'll let me keep doing that." Then I dropped the spoon and turned to meet his pretty eyes. "And I know Ayla's alive. I know there's another option. They don't."

"Right about now," he told me, "I'm feeling just as stupid as they say I am. Callah, what does any of that have to do with getting you out?"

"Ayla had this book. It's called The Art of War, " I explained. "It was about fighting, but so much more. She left it out on the counter in the library, placed lovingly as if she'd come back to it over and over, so I read it. Then I realized she'd quoted it a lot. Just little things, but it was what she said when encouraging herself."

"Okay?" He sounded confused. "What library?"

I paused. "Um…."

"You don't have to tell me," he hurried to say.

But I'd already mentioned it. I could keep this vague. "There's a room. Ayla found it, and we're not supposed to know about it. It was blocked, but there's a way in, and it's filled with books."

"Oh," he muttered, sounding surprised. "And Ayla had a book in there?"

"Yes. One she thought was important, so I read it," I told him, making sure he was keeping up. "All of it, and some history books, and other things no one else knows exist. Stories of the world before we left it. Much of it is about war and how to win - or lose."

"And you think this is a war?" he asked.

I nodded. "It most definitely is. You men go and attack dragons, hunting them for food." My words had gotten so soft, he had to lean even closer. "They fight back, killing our hunters. The men are ambushing the women with this rule change. We're unarmed. Yes, I think this is exactly what war would be like."

"So why don't you want out?" he pressed.

"Because someone has to get the other women out," I hissed, struggling not to get too loud. "I'm the only person who can help them, Tobias. If we find a way to get out, I know I can get them help. You can arrange it with Ayla. She can find somewhere safe for them. Don't you see? She's working out there, and I'm working down here, and you're the liaison, helping us coordinate."

"To what end?" he asked. "Callah, why are you going to risk your own life for people who never did anything to help you before?"

"But they did," I countered. "Ms. Lawton tried to help Ayla. Deenah and Helah tried to help me. Everyone is trying so hard, but we're all powerless because we're alone. But what would happen, Tobias, if the women realized they aren't alone? If we band together and stop letting men have everything their way without any repercussions?"

For a long, long moment he simply stared at me. Every so often, his eyes shifted, landing on another part of my face, but the furrow in his brow was growing. Then he slowly began to nod.

"Most wives can't," he said as if he'd just realized it. "Most wives would be punished by their husbands for being absent, not keeping the home well enough, gossiping, or any of a dozen reasons. He'd use the rod well enough, she would be bedridden for weeks."

"Which would scare everyone else into giving up," I said. "And without a leader, they'd fall back to saying nothing, trying to pretend it's okay, and all the same things they've been doing up until this stupid rule change shocked everyone enough to actually make them talk about it."

"Say that again," he dared.

Confused, my head twitched slightly. "Huh?"

"Without a leader," he repeated to me.

"No!" I gasped. "I didn't mean me."

"Why not?"

"But, I'm not even twenty!"

"So?"

"And..." I shook my head. "But I can't!"

"Why not?" he asked. "You just said it yourself. You know the girls, the wives, the widows, and even many of the matrons. Ms. Lawton seems friendly now, and Mrs. Worthington respects you in the infirmary. Healing also means you'll hear more about what happens above. It's a way to help the other women, and an excuse to see them when they need you. A cure for their sickness, or maybe stitches for a wound from being punished. It's cover, Callah, no different than what I'm trying to do to talk to Ayla."

"Oh." He had a point.

"And you can write letters to her," he said. "I'll carry them, but wrap it in something I can claim is a token from my girl. No one will even question it. There's just one problem with this whole plan."

"What's that?"

He shoved his hands across his mouth. "We've been told these grenades are small explosions. They will make an eruption about the size of six tables around us, and throw shrapnel - which is like bullets - across the length of the dining hall."

"So don't use them," I said.

"Everyone will be using them," he countered. "Even if I don't, others will, and the Dragons don't know about them. They were in crates at the back of the weapons storage. Mr. Worthington said we have to try something new because we've lost too many men."

"What if Ayla dies?" I asked.

"I don't know," he breathed. "That's what I'm scared of, Callah. If Ayla or the Wyvern die, then what? Are we stuck down here forever? "

"No, the surface is safe," I reminded him. "We can still get out and live on our own. You can protect us from the things up there, and I can keep us fed."

His mouth curled slightly. "Almost like a husband and a wife, huh?"

"What? No! Like friends," I insisted.

"As friends," he corrected, "but like a husband and wife. I will protect and provide. You will care and nurture. And maybe I can teach you how to protect and provide, and you can teach me how to care and nurture?"

"You're already good at the caring part," I assured him.

Gently, he shifted his massive hand to rest atop mine. "But Callah, there's a problem with your plan."

"What's that?"

"If you don't stab me with that pocket knife, we will be wed. You've agreed. I've announced it. We're now intended, and they'll be giving me a suite soon to prepare for you."

"Oh."

I hadn't thought about that. Sure, I knew it would happen, but it still felt like some horror that was far away. It wasn't. Every day, my fate grew closer, which meant I had to make a decision. Sadly, there wasn't a good answer.

If I stayed, I'd be his wife. If I tried to get banished, there was a good chance it wouldn't work. If I stayed, I could help those women become safer in their own marriages. I could show them all how we could protect and care for each other. But if I was banished, I knew Ayla was up there, waiting for me. She'd help me find a better life.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted.

"So marry me?" he suggested. "Be my wife, Callah. I can brag about how my woman keeps so many hunters fighting back against the Devil. We'll share a suite where we can talk as long as we want with no one to chide us for doing anything improper."

"But I'm not ready!" I insisted.

"For what?" he asked.

"For that ."

He scoffed. "Who said we'll do that?"

"But men like the act."

Tobias simply shrugged. "I like my friend more. I happen to like you enough that I don't want to hurt you. Besides, I'm a big, dumb man. I'm sure I'm not going to figure it all out quickly." Then he grinned. "But we can let them think we're a doting couple, right? Maybe hold hands and smile at each other too much as if we actually enjoy each other's company?"

"Because we do?" I asked.

"I do," he admitted. "You actually talk to me, Callah. You don't try to tell me how you're better than me, and you aren't always trying to make me prove something, calling me an idiot, or laughing at me for a mistake."

"But a husband punishes his wife," I reminded him. "And you are a large man."

"Hey." He turned to face me. "I will never hit you. Not with a hand, a foot, or a rod. In exchange, you will never serve me food that will make me ill. I mean, you'll have to do my laundry or there will be questions, but I don't mind cleaning my own mess, and I like books. I'll let you read them too, okay?"

"Really?" I asked, sitting up a bit.

So he offered me his hand. "Will you be my lawfully-wedded friend, Callah? Shake on it like a man?"

I pressed my palm against his and shook with gusto. "I will." But as I released his hand, the tension began to ease. "I can do this."

"You are doing this," he corrected. "We just have to figure out a way to let Ayla know what's going on down here, so she can make sure they know up there."

"I'll think of something," I promised. "But I'm going to need paper, Tobias. A lot of it, because my letter to Ayla is going to be long."

He nudged the bowl towards me again. "I'll say it's for your wedding list. Things you want in our suite. They'll laugh at me, but I'll remind them that I'm too dumb to know how to make it properly."

"But you aren't," I reminded him.

"I'm really not," he promised.