23. This isn’t Fair
23
THIS ISN’T FAIR
WREN
K adyn is a silent guide leading me through Mora’s streets. We move swiftly, sticking to dark alleys and roads cast in shadows. A few times, we see some people up ahead. Ducking onto side streets, we wait for them to pass.
Even though Kadyn has a cloak, which hides his tunic, marking him as a Given, I can’t help but worry about getting caught. I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking over my shoulder. Not after everything I’ve already survived.
The rain has slowed to a faint mist, and puddles line the cobblestone streets where dancers were performing hours before. It feels like years have passed since I first woke up in the Moran Gardens, and I’m more desperate than ever to get out of this city.
Thank the suns, the winding streets are much easier to navigate with someone who knows where they’re going. The moons are still high, but judging by the absolute exhaustion in my bones and the streaks of light pushing back the darkness, dawn can’t be far off.
The scent of manure fills the air as Kadyn leads me down a dark alleyway, and a horse whinnies.
Panic squeezes my chest at the sound. This is his plan? Oh, suns. We should’ve talked about this beforehand because this won’t work.
I stumble to a stop, shaking my head. “Wait.”
He turns, eyes wide as he scans the street behind me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to ride. I’ve never even been within five feet of a horse.”
Like hunting, riding is something no one ever bothered to teach me. Perhaps if I’d grown up on a farm, I would’ve learned how to do it even though I’m Marked, but that’s a moot point now.
If this is Kadyn’s plan, it won’t work. We don’t have time to learn new skills, especially ones as involved as riding horses.
Burning fucking suns. My feet ache at the realization that running is back on the table.
“Don’t worry,” Kadyn assures me from beneath the shadows of his hood. “We aren’t riding.”
He takes my hand, and I jump at the sudden contact. But there’s nothing in our touch. Just his warm hand on mine, as if I were touching one of my brothers. No spark or jolt or awareness pulsing through me, demanding my attention.
My mind automatically flies back to Gabriel and his hand on mine earlier tonight. That touch sent fire running through me. It made my heart pound, my core heat, and every part of me yearn for him, even though I hate him.
Gods. What kind of person yearns for the man who is hunting them? Obviously, the Mark on my forehead sentencing me to death isn’t my only problem.
“If we’re not riding, what’s the plan?” I ask, hoping to take my mind off the handsome Hunter I have no business thinking about.
“I’ll show you,” Kadyn replies in a hushed whisper, lifting his finger to his lips in a sign to be quiet.
I nod my understanding. He leads me further into the alley and through an unlocked wooden door I didn’t notice before. The door leads to a storage space with abysmal lighting.
Faint streams of moonlight filter through two frosty windows, partially illuminating twelve wagons and carriages sitting in two even rows. Some are small, just big enough to hold a driver and a few boxes, while the bigger ones are meant for transporting large amounts of goods over long distances.
Kadyn slips his hand from mine and walks over to the far wall. I follow close behind him, moving cautiously and holding my cloak close so it doesn’t get caught on a stray nail.
Unlike me, Kadyn walks through the dimly lit room with the familiarity of someone who knows exactly where they’re going, grabbing a clipboard hanging from a nail. Running his finger down it, he taps it twice before returning it to the wall.
“This way.” He jerks his head to the left, and I follow him to a long wooden wagon. He taps the railing running along the side. “This wagon is scheduled to leave through the Stone Gate today. They’re taking a shipment of fabric to Mivat.”
My brows furrow. I remember seeing Mivat on my map—it’s a day’s ride away from here. The city is one of three standing between us and the Sapphire Coast.
“Okay…” I’m not sure I understand Kadyn’s plan. The vehicle has a rectangular box at the back, with enough space up front for two people, but where does he think we’ll go? “We can’t be seen leaving Mora. There will be Watchers everywhere.”
Did he miss the glowing swirl on my forehead? It’s far more prominent than the green Mark on his neck.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be.” He walks to the back, and after a moment’s pause, I go with him. Curiosity nibbles at my insides as he runs his hands down what appears to be solid wood, his brows furrowed in concentration. “It should be right…”
His voice trails off as he presses down. There’s a hiss, and then the back of the wagon shifts. The top rises a few inches, revealing…
“It’s hollow,” I whisper to myself, staring into the hidden compartment. My chest tightens. The space is small—maybe a foot and a half high at most, but it stretches the length of the wagon.
Kadyn nods, patting the top. “My family builds these. Sometimes, they get requests for hidden compartments like this.”
It’s like there are ropes around my chest, and someone is drawing them tighter. I grip the edge, staring into the hollow space. “So, we’re going to…”
“Climb in.” He points to the side, where I can barely make out a lever. “When we reach our destination, I’ll pull that, and we’ll be able to get out. Pa puts a safety feature in all of these.”
“I see.” To be honest, the presence of the so-called safety feature doesn’t instill in me much confidence. The fact that it exists means that at some point, someone was stuck in one of these wagons, and they were unable to get out.
A frown tugs at my lips as I shudder, drawing my arms around myself. “It’s so… small.”
I’m not a tiny woman, a fact that has never bothered me before. I’ve always loved my curves and the way they make me look. But this space is so tight that it will feel like going into a coffin.
“I know.” Kadyn glances over to me, and his lips slant into a frown. “Look, Wren, we can run, but…”
“We wouldn’t get far,” I whisper.
He nods, and I hug myself tighter as I consider our options. Not only are my feet aching at the thought of running again, but I’ve been awake for nearly an entire day. I’ve been pushing my body to its limits since escaping Grenbloom, and I don’t know how much longer I can go without collapsing.
On top of all that, there’s the matter of speed. Riding in this wagon would allow us to get out of this country faster. Maybe… maybe we could even make it out of Myreth before my birthday on the first day of winter?
I want the freedom that comes from fleeing this kingdom more than anything. Real freedom, not the taste I got from the Hunter’s head start. If I get in here and we survive, we’ll be much closer to our goal. That’s the thought that has me considering the compartment more closely. One thing is niggling at the back of my mind, though.
“Why should I trust you?” The question is out of my mouth before I can try to word it in a way that might not be considered extremely insulting, and I wince. Suns, I’m so awkward. “I mean?—”
“It’s okay. That’s a fair question.” Kadyn steps towards me. I wait to feel something for this man, but there’s nothing. “I know you don’t trust me, but I have no reason to lie or pull anything over on you. My family…” He pauses, seeming to consider his words. “I’m my parents’ last child, and I was going to be Given today. We’ve already said our goodbyes, and I’ve already resigned myself to a life in the temples.”
One word stands out to me. “Resigned?”
“I never asked to be Given,” Kadyn says firmly. “This fate was forced upon me, but I never chose it. I never wanted it.”
“I did,” I confess, remembering how excited I was for my Giving. “Right up until I realized what it truly meant.”
Sharp steel. Amelia’s muffled scream. Crimson rivers.
Kadyn nods gravely, as if he understands the direction my thoughts have taken. And maybe he does. “Hours ago, I had no hope. Now, you’ve given me a chance to live. I’m just trying to repay the favor.”
I sweep my eyes over his shadowy, cloaked form. Trust is hard to come by, yet nothing is warning me away from this man. No sense of unease or niggling awareness that I should be careful. Besides, I asked him to trust me not long ago—it would be hypocritical of me not to do the same now.
Maybe it’s the Mark faintly glowing on his neck. Maybe it’s the fact that the sun is rising, and we’re running out of time. Either way, my head dips, and I agree to his plan.
I half-climb, half-slide into the compartment at the back of the wagon. I shimmy down, wrapping my cloak tightly around myself, but I make it.
My back protests the wooden slats, which were definitely not made for comfort. By the time Kadyn slides in next to me, I’m doubting whether this is a good idea. This compartment clearly wasn’t built for more than one person.
I twist my fingers together and gnaw on my bottom lip. “On second thought, this might be a bad idea. Perhaps we should?—”
A horse whinnies, cutting me off. Footsteps ring out. Someone nearby says, “Getting ready for the day, George?”
Gods-damn it. We’re out of time.
A masculine huff that sounds far too close for comfort comes from my right. “You know it. I had to drag myself out of bed this morning.”
“Drank too much?”
George laughs, and my stomach somersaults. “Just enough, my friend. Just enough.”
Kadyn reaches for the lever, pulling it shut before lying down beside me. The top descends, seeming to take an eternity and a few seconds. It leaves us blanketed in darkness as thick as a starless night.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my palms growing sweaty around my cloak.
Suns save me, but I think tight spaces might be as bad as heights. I try to draw deep breaths to steady myself, but it’s not working. Each heartbeat isn’t strong enough, and each breath is too shallow.
The voices outside are getting louder. George and his friend hook up horses to the wagon, chatting about the Giving Festival while they work.
I turn my head, and the wall is right there. My nose could brush against it. I look back up, where wooden slats greet me. Sitting up isn’t an option. Panic squeezes my chest, and those ropes from before constrict tighter, tighter, tighter.
What if something happens? What if I need to move? What if?—
Kadyn’s hand brushes against mine, and I hitch a breath.
“Sorry,” he whispers, his words little more than air. “It’s tight.”
I huff an incredulous laugh, his words drawing me out of the panic spiral I was falling into. He’s wrong, though.
Tight is when my whole family gathers around the kitchen table, and Mother forgets to put in the extender. This isn’t tight. It’s gods-damned suffocating.
Forget worrying about Gabriel finding me—right now, my only thoughts are about this coffin I willingly entered. What will we do if we’re discovered? Scream? Kick? Neither of those options seems like they’ll truly help us.
A thousand curses race through my mind. I ease my hand up my hip, sliding Father’s knife out of its sheath. Gripping the hilt, I hold it against my chest and try to breathe.
I remind myself that I’m armed, which means we at least have a chance if someone finds us. Not a big one, but a chance is still a chance.
A series of bangs and thuds come from above us, and the wooden slats shudder as heavy objects are loaded onto the wagon. Every movement is louder than the last, until it sounds like we’re back in the middle of the storm.
Only this time, all it would take is one wrong move, and everything will be ruined. They’ll drag Kadyn back to the temple for his Giving, and I’ll be held until a Hunter can return me to Grenbloom.
Then we’ll both be dead. The knife grows slippery in my palm as memories of Amelia’s Giving mingle with thoughts of what my own might entail. There’s no excitement, no joy. Just pure, cold dread.
Time seems to play games as the wagon is loaded. It could be seconds or minutes before a muted, “Safe travels, George,” comes from outside.
I hold my breath as the wagon dips.
“Thank you, Ky,” the driver calls out. “The ride to Mivat takes most of the day, so I won’t be back until tomorrow.”
My nails dig into my palms as I hold my breath. Have we done it?
“Suns be with you,” Ky responds.
“And also with you.” George clicks his tongue and murmurs a low command to the horses.
I exhale a long breath when the wagon starts moving. It feels like it takes forever for us to make it through Mora. The sounds of early morning life are far more subdued than yesterday.
The driver stops at the gate and speaks with the guards. Thank the suns and moons, they don’t inspect the wagon.
After that, we’re bumbling down the road. Once dirt and stones crunch beneath the wagon wheels, I take my first full breath.
We did it.
I can scarcely believe this worked. So much can change in a day. Yesterday, I woke up in Mora’s garden, and now I have a new travel companion and a ride.
By the time we stop tonight, we’ll be well on our way to the Sapphire Coast.
Thank the blessed, burning suns. Gratitude warms my chest as the suns rise, chasing away the night’s chill. Slivers of light make it through the slats in the roof, welcoming us to another day. I’m still here. Still alive.
I tilt my head, looking over at Kadyn. His hands are folded over his chest, and his green Mark is a leafy squiggle on his neck. It’s glowing faintly as he stares above us, but he notices my attention and tilts his head towards me.
Thankfulness shines in his eyes, and a knowing settles in my gut. I did the right thing, sneaking back into Mora. Not just because Kadyn’s still alive but because whether the head priestess knows it or not, I’m sending her a message by saving him.
Fuck her and her fake Mark.
Fuck the Giving.
Fuck it all.
Together, Kadyn and I will defy all the odds, escape our fated deaths, and flee this country, never looking back.
The Given stick together .
Amelia’s words echo in my mind, becoming a silent vow that dances across my lips until, finally, I give in to sleep’s call.