22. Dead People Walking
22
DEAD PEOPLE WALKING
WREN
T hree sets of wide eyes meet mine as the tent flap flutters behind me. The Given stare at me, and before any of them can scream, I shove Father’s knife into its sheath and hold up my hands in the universal I mean you no harm signal.
Blankets and pillows are piled in the corners, and three cots line the walls. Prayer booklets are stacked on a wooden nightstand. A two-foot-high black marble statue of Esyn’s naked form sits beside them.
Even here, the Mother Goddess watches over the Given. Before I knew the truth, I would’ve found the sight of her comforting. Now, I can’t stop a shiver from running through me.
I drag my eyes away from Esyn’s statue and look over the gods-blessed, who are still staring at me. Dressed in the palest of greens, with their glowing Marks proudly on display, the trio reminds me of myself and Amelia the night before her Giving Ceremony.
Alive. Happy. Excited .
The young man with the flame as a Mark is perched on a wooden crate. He’s holding a glass bottle filled with amber liquid, and his hand is frozen halfway to his lips.
A lantern is on the crate next to him, casting flickering light on the woman sitting cross-legged on the mat in front of me. She looks younger now than she did earlier, with her blue hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her dark skin looks like the night has wrapped itself around her. She, too, is unmoving.
Next to them, crouched with his hands curled into fists, is the third Given. He still seems to be carrying the tension from earlier, and the Mark on his neck pulses a dark forest green.
Like Gabriel’s eyes when he’s angry .
Fuck, where did that thought come from? I can’t be thinking about the Hunter or the color of his eyes. I have people to save.
“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?” The growled question comes from the angry Given with the green Mark. His eyes flash with emotion, but it’s gone too quickly for me to decipher what he’s feeling.
All three Given are staring at me, and sweat drips down my neck as I try to figure out how to answer. Damn it.
I should’ve spent some time thinking about what I would say to these three when I found them because right now, words are escaping me. How do I explain to them that their entire lives have been lies and that they’re going to die in a few hours?
Not easily, that’s for damn sure.
Think, Wren .
The words bounce around in my mind as I try to come up with something to say. Time is ticking, but the pressure is making it harder to think. I have to get out of here before the Watchers turn around and see a fourth shadow in the tent.
The only thing working for me is the weather—the rain has picked up, and the blowing wind should muffle the sound of our voices.
It’s not often these days that I think anyone is on my side, but it seems like someone might be looking out for me.
Amelia’s mantra echoes in my mind, giving me strength. I look each of the gods-blessed in the eyes. “My name is Wren, and I’m here to talk to you.”
They deserve something Amelia never got: a choice. A choice to leave, a choice to live.
No one else has said anything, so I add, “I’m here to save you.”
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
There’s a beat of silence before an incredulous laugh bursts out of the woman. She leans back on her hands and tilts her head. “Save us? From what?”
The man on her right looks like he’s about to smile, while the tense gods-blessed is staring blankly at me. I don’t know who to look at, so I move my eyes from one to the next.
Slowly, so as not to spook them, I tug back my hood. The blue glow illuminates the sides of the tent, and I pull the hood halfway on to dim the glow.
The three gods-blessed lean in closer and take in my Mark. If this wasn’t such a tense situation, and I wasn’t being actively hunted, I would’ve found their reaction amusing.
“The Giving is a lie.” I choke on the words as I say them, my lungs tightening as the memory of Amelia’s blood pouring from her neck flashes through my mind.
A tense heartbeat passes, and then the blue-haired woman rears back. “What?”
“It’s true.” I wish I weren’t the one delivering this news, but it’s better they learn it now than tomorrow at the altar. “You’re not going to be sent to serve the gods tomorrow.”
Three pairs of eyes look at me incredulously, as if I just told them I was the king.
“I know this is a lot,” I say, picking my words carefully. “You’re not going to work in the temples. They’re going to kill you.”
The air thickens, and all three of them inhale deeply at the same time.
None of them are speaking. Why aren’t they speaking?
Almost desperately, I continue, “You have to believe me, please. I’m telling the truth.”
Every second feels like an eternity as my words settle upon the trio. I don’t move, waiting for one of them to react. A dozen scenarios about what they might do run through my mind, but none of them prepare me for what happens.
The man with the flaming Mark scoffs, lifting his bottle to his lips. He takes a long drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he’s done.
“A lie?” He sneers, disbelief etched on his face. “You show up here out of the blue and want us to believe that our whole lives have been falsehoods? No. You’re just jealous that we’re going to be Given tomorrow.”
Jealousy is the last thing I’m feeling.
“I’m not lying,” I protest, widening my eyes and trying to infuse as much sincerity into my gaze as possible.
“Really?” His brows lift. “I’ve never even seen you before. Have you seen her, Mirabelle?”
The woman angles her head. Her blue eyes are as bright as her hair, and they sweep over me.
“Nope.” Her lips twist into a sneer. “I’ve never seen her before, Joshua. Have you seen her, Kadyn?”
The tense man with the dark green Mark shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.”
None of them take their eyes off me, and the air in the tent is growing thick and uncomfortable. Regret is blooming in my stomach, and my fingers twitch at my sides.
Have I made yet another mistake in coming here? How many mistakes can someone make before their luck runs out? I have to be getting close to the limit.
“Please, you have to believe me. I risked so much to come here.” I put everything on the line for them. To give them a chance to live.
“We don’t even know where you came from, Wren.” Joshua crosses his arms, his tunic straining against his muscles. “Or if that’s even your name.”
The cruelty in his voice makes me want to turn around and leave. How dare he be so rude? I’m just trying to help.
There is a part of me—a rather large one, if I’m being honest—that wants to leave these three to their own devices. And maybe I would have, if I didn’t notice the leather-bound book beside Esyn’s statue. Tucked beneath a stack of prayer booklets, the novel’s spine is covered with flowers that are wreathed in flames. Even though the book is cast in shadows, I would recognize it anywhere.
A Flame So Deep
My heart twists, and a tear runs down my cheek before I can stop it. How many times did Amelia and I sit together in my room, poring over a worn copy of the exact same book? A Flame So Deep is a romance, but that’s not all it is.
It’s an epic tale of love and loss, of darkness and light, of mythical creatures, fated mates, and battles of good and evil. It was my best friend’s favorite story, and seeing it here feels like a sign.
Once again, Amelia’s mantra echoes through my mind, reminding me of my purpose.
You have to give them grace, Wren , she adds calmly. You wouldn’t have believed this either, if you didn’t see it.
Even from beyond the grave, Amelia is being logical. She’s right. I can’t blame this trio for not believing me, not when we just met. I can’t give up on them yet. Amelia wouldn’t want me to.
“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know why they’re doing it, but they’re killing all of us.” I open my hands in supplication, letting my horror, grief, and sadness leak into my words. “Go ahead. Ask me questions if you want. Touch my Mark if you need to.”
Just believe me, I silently add. Please .
The man with the Mark on his neck, Kadyn, is the first to move. He reaches for me, and it takes everything I have not to flinch as he touches my forehead. His hand is warm, and there’s a sense of wonderment in his gaze as he traces the swirl etched into my skin.
“She’s right, it’s real,” he proclaims, pulling back his hand and sitting on his haunches.
“Of course, it’s real.” Why would I lie about that? “I’m telling you, I’m just like you. I come from a village named Grenbloom, and I was supposed to be Given earlier this month.”
“Supposed to be,” Joshua echoes, his voice less harsh than before.
Are they starting to believe me? Hope sparks in my stomach. All might not be lost.
“Why weren’t you Given?” Mirabelle asks, leaning closer to me.
Uncertainty is still present in her tone, but at least she’s no longer sneering at me. Since the trio hasn’t alerted the Watchers of my presence, it seems like we might be moving in the right direction.
“I ran away. My best friend…” Crimson flashes before my eyes, and I shudder.
I can’t stop now, though. My nails bite into my palms, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to continue.
“My best friend was Given the day before me. I snuck in and watched as they… as she… they killed her.” A silver blade. A scream. Blood everywhere. A pink flash. The priestesses, laughing. “I saw it, and I couldn’t stay.”
Mirabelle gasps, and Joshua’s eyes harden. He sets down his bottle and stares at me. “The time for your ceremony has passed?”
I nod, pinching my lips together.
“And you didn’t go?”
“Obviously,” I say, gesturing to myself.
“So, you’re being hunted.” Mirabelle’s voice is a hushed whisper, filled with awe and horror.
My stomach twists, and Gabriel’s green eyes flash through my mind. I’m sure there are other Hunters after me, but Gabriel and I… whatever’s between us feels personal.
As if there’s something more to our relationship than just our statuses as predator and prey.
It must be the connection we’d begun building before he found out who I was. There’s no other explanation that I can think of.
“Yes, I am,” I admit. “I’m on the run, but when I saw you three, I knew I couldn’t leave. Not without making sure you knew the truth. If you come with me?—”
“Come with you?” Mirabelle jerks away from me, making a religious gesture across her chest. “Why in Esyn’s holy name would we do that?”
A cough comes from outside the tent, breaking past the steady pitter-patter of rain, and ice floods my veins. The four of us freeze. My heartbeat sounds like drums in my ears as I stare at the canvas walls.
Oh, suns, this is it. The Watchers will come inside and realize there’s a fourth Given present. There’s nowhere for me to go, nowhere for me to hide.
I’m going to get caught.
The tent feels too tight, and the air is too thick. Several seconds pass, but even after the Watchers start talking to each other, I don’t relax. I can’t waste any more time trying to convince this trio to believe me. Either they do, or they don’t.
“You’re not going to be assigned to a temple tomorrow.” I drop my voice, wishing there was an easier way to say this. I tighten my fists, my nails slicing into my palms. “The Given all die.”
“What about the Marks the temple workers wear?” Joshua asks. “I saw one on the head priestess.”
My stomach lurches. “Fake. Hers doesn’t glow. Not like ours.”
And it wasn’t in the same place today as when I saw her at Amelia’s Giving.
A beat of silence passes, and then Mirabelle whispers incredulously, “You think they’re stickers ?”
“They have to be.” I’m pleading with them now, but I don’t care. “You need to trust me. I saw my friend die, and the priestesses laughed .”
Thunder booms outside as if accentuating my point. There’s a heavy silence that seems to stretch for several lifetimes.
“I don’t understand,” Mirabelle murmurs. Joshua places his hand on her shoulder while Kadyn is unmoving.
“It’s true,” I whisper. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
This is my last chance to convince them. I can feel time slipping away from me, so I don’t hold back. I tell them everything. Sneaking into the temple, being excited for Amelia, and then watching her die. I tell them about the priestesses gossiping as my best friend bled out, the pink flash, and the strange person dressed in black. I keep going until I’ve recounted the entire tale, and when I’m done, I clasp my hands in front of me.
“I know this sounds crazy, but you must believe me. Everything we’ve been told is a lie.”
It feels like I’m breathing in gobs of mud as I wait for them to speak. Every raindrop hitting the canvas tent sounds like the boom of an executioner’s drum, reminding me that the Hunter will be coming for me.
Has he already gotten up? Is he pursuing me again?
It feels like hours pass before Mirabelle exhales.
“I’m sorry.” She rubs her temples. “Clearly, you’ve risked a lot in coming here, but I’m not leaving.”
“What?” I blink, the unexpected response taking me by surprise. “Did you hear what I said? They kill the gods-blessed.” Keeping my voice down is incredibly difficult, and my last words are little more than gasps. “They’re going to kill you tomorrow.”
What doesn’t she understand?
“I heard you, and I believe you think that will happen.” Mirabelle looks at me with pity in her eyes as she reaches behind her, grabbing the Mother’s statue and cradling it lovingly in her arms. “I don’t think Esyn would do that to us. She’s the goddess of life, the Mother, the reason this world exists. Myreth is blessed because of her. Why would she do this?”
That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think Esyn is kind at all. At least not the way we were taught. Why would she allow sacrifices to happen in her temple if that were the case?” I clench my fists at my sides. “Esyn is fucking cruel, if you ask me.”
“Don’t curse at her.” Mirabelle hugs the statue closer. “I told you, I don’t believe you.”
“Neither do I,” says Joshua, squeezing her shoulder.
Disbelief is acidic at the back of my tongue. I never saw this coming when I snuck back into Mora.
Stupidly, I thought they’d believe me. Stupidly, I thought that even though I couldn’t save Amelia, I could help these three.
My chest aches, and I know this is my last chance. Despair tinges my words as I hold their gazes and beg them to believe me. My words pour out of me as I ask them to trust me. To come with me so they can live.
By the time I finish speaking, I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. I’ve laid it all out for them.
Joshua and Mirabelle share a long look before he looks back at me.
“I’m sorry, but no.” A vein pulses in his jaw. “We don’t believe you. Even if we did, we’d be running for the rest of our lives.”
“The Hunters will chase us as much as they are you,” she adds quietly.
There’s a finality in her tone that takes my breath away. I’m really not going to get through to them.
I thought the Giving Festival was bad, but that had nothing on the sinking pit that is my stomach.
I’m looking at dead people walking, and I can’t stop silver from lining my eyes. This feels worse than when I realized what would happen to me if I stuck around to be Given.
At least then, I was able to escape and save myself. But these three are their own people. I can’t force them to come with me. They need to be willing, and they’re not.
I failed them. I’m not sure what I could’ve done differently, but it doesn’t matter, because they don’t want to come with me.
My fingers are trembling as my gaze swings from Mirabelle to Joshua. “So, you won’t…”
“I’m coming with you,” Kadyn announces, his deep voice interrupting mine. I fling my head in his direction, and my eyes widen.
“What?” Mirabelle exclaims, her hand flying over her heart. “Kadyn, you will abandon Esyn?”
No longer crouched on the ground, he’s on his feet, grabbing a cloak from the pile in the corner. He flings it over his shoulders.
“I don’t think Esyn is all that kind, Mira,” he says softly. Then, to me, he adds, “I believe you.”
Three simple words have never meant so much.
“Really?” I breathe. “You do?”
He rakes a hand through his hair, his neck muscles tensing. “Yes.”
“Why?” I can’t stop myself from asking. The others don’t believe me, so why him?
“I’m not the first one in my family to be born with a Mark.”
My eyes widen. As rare as it was for Amelia and me to be born in neighboring villages the same year, it’s even rarer for one family to have two children bearing the Mark of the gods. I can’t even think of the last time something like this happened.
“My brother was Given a decade ago. And I’ve always thought something was off. My mother and I sought him out in the temples after his Giving, and we never found him. Never caught a glimpse of him. No one I asked had even heard of him.” Kadyn’s Mark pulses on his neck, and he clenches his fists. “I’ve already said goodbye to my family, and with my brother gone, I have nothing left. I’m coming with you.”
He believes me.
Warmth suffuses my chest, and if I weren’t already sitting, my limbs would go weak from relief. It wasn’t a waste. Thank the suns, it wasn’t a waste.
Emotion thickens my throat, and I dip my head in Kadyn’s direction. “Thank you.”
Such small words, but they carry so much meaning.
Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for not making this a waste. Thank you for coming with me .
Kadyn turns to the other two as he pulls on his hood, covering his Mark. “Are you sure?”
The pair shares a look for a long moment. “We’re sure,” Mirabelle confirms. “Esyn will look after us. I’m confident.”
I’m not. I won’t lie and say I understand their reasoning, but at least Kadyn is coming with me. Saving one person is better than saving none.
Kadyn makes a religious gesture across his chest. “May the rising suns bless you both.”
“And may you forever remain in their undying light,” Joshua replies.
The blessing is familiar. A few weeks ago, I would’ve repeated it.
Now, I don’t bother. The suns haven’t personally harmed me—that I know of—but based on my rapidly devolving relationship with the gods, I wouldn’t put it past the suns to abandon me next.
Besides, we can’t waste any more time. There’s an itch under my skin that’s getting worse with each passing moment. I have a feeling it won’t subside until I get out of this gods-damned country.
According to my map, several cities stand between me and the Sapphire Coast. At least now, unlike this morning, I know where I’m going.
I approach the tent flap, pressing my ear against the canvas. Quiet conversations reach me, but it doesn’t sound like the Watchers are on high alert. The rain has quieted, and the storm seems to be passing.
When I turn around, Kadyn is standing with his friends. Their heads are bent, and they’re murmuring quietly. Kadyn asks them to cause a distraction with the guards, and they agree. The trio speaks for a few minutes, and Mirabelle and Joshua pray over their friend before they break apart.
Mirabelle steps forward, taking my hand in hers. “If what you say is true?—”
“It is.” I would never lie about this.
She nods. “If it is, please keep Kadyn safe. He’s a good friend of ours, and he’s already been through so much.”
The three gods-blessed exchange a warm look, one that I recognize because I shared it so often with my best friend. They’re close, like Amelia and I were close. It makes it even worse that they’re not all coming with me.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell her. It’s all I can do.
Mirabelle releases my hand, picking up Esyn’s statue. She kisses the Mother’s forehead and murmurs a few quiet words before slipping out of the tent.
A moment later, a booming voice fills the air.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
A feminine laugh. “Now that the rain’s dying down, I wanted to come and say hi,” Mirabelle purrs. “Is that allowed?”
Another Watcher rumbles a reply, and then faint conversations come from the back of the tent.
Joshua pops his head out, looking both ways, before returning inside. “The coast is clear.” He throws his arms around Kadyn. “Be safe, brother.”
The two men hug, and when Kadyn steps back, he looks at me. “We’re leaving Myreth, right?”
I nod. “I’d like to get to the Sapphire Coast. Once we’re there…”
“We can escape.” He exhales, and a spark of hope enters his eyes. “We can live.”
He understands. Thank all the suns, he understands .
My chest warms. I’m no longer alone, no longer the only Given escaping their fate.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I can get us out of the city unseen,” Kadyn says as another peal of laughter comes from outside the tent. “I’ll explain on the way.”
And as we dart out of the tent and into the garden, avoiding the Watchers’ gazes, more hope sparks deep within me.
Maybe tonight was a sign. Maybe, even with the Hunter pursuing me and the damned swirl on my forehead, everything will be okay.