26. The River Market
26
THE RIVER MARKET
WREN
I t’s fucking cold.
That’s the first thought that comes to mind as I wake up. The early morning breeze carries hints of frost and nips at my cheek. For a moment, I don’t remember where I am, but then the events of the past few weeks come flooding back all at once.
The Giving is a lie, I’m on the run, a Hunter is pursuing me, and Kadyn and I are headed to the Winter’s Eve Ball in Rosebridge.
A few days have passed since I rescued him, and we’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Having a partner is nice, but Kadyn’s presence isn’t enough to ward off the impending winter’s chill. Last night was the coldest one yet.
Worry races through me as I groan, wrapping my cloak tighter around myself. As soon as we get the twins, we need to leave this country. I don’t want to expose my sisters to the dangerous temperatures winter can bring, especially without a roof over our heads or money to buy food to fill our bellies.
I blink open my eyes, white clouds forming in front of me as I exhale. The alley where we found refuge last night is still dark, although the first traces of dawn streak across the sky. Frost lines the crates we found refuge behind, a white glimmer foretelling the end of the giving season in two weeks.
A snore comes from beside me, where Kadyn is curled into a ball. His head is resting on the brick wall, and his arms are wrapped around him.
I don’t know how he can still be sleeping when it’s so cold—I tossed and turned all night—but I’ll let him get as much rest as he can.
After all, that’s the benefit of being on the run with a partner: we can look out for each other. It’s more important now than ever, since the numbers of Watchers and Hunters seem to increase with each passing day.
Last night, I overheard two Hunters discussing the missing Marked Ones as they walked past the alley. They hadn’t seen us, but that didn’t stop me from clutching Father’s knife all night long.
They’re still searching for us. The continued attention is getting more and more frustrating. Why won’t they just let us go?
Every year, dozens of people are Given to the gods. Why does it matter if two of us escaped our fated executions and ran?
I rub my hands together for warmth, and as it has a thousand times since I witnessed her Giving, my mind wanders back to Amelia’s ceremony. It feels like every time I think back to that day, I have even more questions.
Why do they do this? What good comes from killing us? Why is it so important the gods-blessed be Given?
I keep thinking about what the head priestess said in my nightmare. The Blessed and the Inherited. Who are they, and what do they have to do with me?
Something isn’t adding up, and it feels like everyone else knows something we don’t.
Or maybe I’m wrong, everyone’s in the dark, and I’m being paranoid. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. I’m looking over my shoulder more now than ever before. It feels like every time my Mark burns, it’s getting hotter than before. It might just be in my mind, though. A side effect from being on edge ever since we heard about the honored guests a few days ago.
After the Watchers stopped the wagon, there were no more interruptions. We reached Mivat that night. Kadyn and I slipped out when it was safe and found an abandoned shed to stay in. We shivered, taking turns keeping watch while the other slept. The next day, we ate some apples we found in the shed before hitching a ride on another wagon—secretly, of course.
The second leg of our journey took us from Mivat to Saltwater. Getting to the riverside city had been an uncomfortable two-day journey.
The second secret compartment made the first one seem palatial in comparison. Kadyn and I had been pressed together, barely able to move. We’d sipped just enough water to avoid dehydration, but no more than that. The journey had been highly unpleasant, but we made it here.
Kadyn shifts beside me, unfurling from his ball. “Morning, Wren,” he whispers.
I return the greeting and sheath my knife before tucking my hands beneath my cloak. “How did you sleep?”
He rubs his eyes. “Well enough, I suppose. You?”
“Same.” I dreamed of the Hunter, but that’s nothing new. His emerald eyes seek me out whenever I rest.
I can’t escape him. However, I’ll take dreams of the Hunter over ones of the head priestess any day.
Kadyn’s stomach grumbles, and I frown. “We need to find some food today.”
Not only that, but I’d do just about anything for a bar of soap and a fresh change of clothes. Being on the run isn’t conducive to hygienic practices, and my dress is proof of that. Besides, if I’m going to sneak into the Winter’s Eve Ball in two weeks—something I haven’t entirely figured out yet but can’t ignore for much longer—I can’t be wearing Mother’s old gown.
I mention as much to Kadyn, and he chuckles. “Your dress definitely looks like it’s seen better days, that’s for sure.”
I gasp in mock outrage, elbowing him in the side. We’ve fallen into a quick friendship, likely sped along by the fact that we’re on the run for our lives.
“We should spend the day in Saltwater,” Kadyn suggests. “We can get some real food, find some clothes, and then firm up our next steps.” He draws his hood more firmly over his head. “You’re still planning on going to Rosebridge, right?”
“Yes. I can’t leave my sisters in the king’s hands.” Goosebumps erupt on my arms, and I shiver. “I could be wrong, and nothing will happen to them, but I have to be sure.” I lean my head back and sigh. The sky is growing lighter, and the city is waking up around us. “I need to be there for them.”
That feeling, the one Kadyn called a sixth sense, hasn’t gone anywhere. Every time I think of the twins, my stomach twists tighter and tighter, warning that they’re in danger.
“I understand.” Kadyn rubs his temples, and his voice is heavy. “Family is everything.”
Grief is laced through his words, a thread of loss and pain that I’m all too familiar with. I haven’t forgotten what Kadyn said before we left Mora—his brother was Given.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly. “About your brother?”
He pushes his tongue against the side of his stubble-covered cheek and shakes his head. “Not really.”
“I’m here if you change your mind.” I place my hand on his. “If you want to talk about anything, let me know.”
I can’t bring his brother back, but I can do this. Gratitude fills my friend’s eyes, and he dips his head in thanks. Silence stretches between us, but it isn’t uncomfortable.
Several minutes pass before our stomachs rumble, and we decide to emerge from the alley and start our day.
Even though it’s still early in the morning, people are already walking down the cobblestone streets. They all seem to be headed in the same direction, so logically, we follow them.
Two rights and a left later, a large sign reading The River Market leads into a bustling square.
“This must be where Saltwater got its name,” Kadyn murmurs beside me.
I nod, drinking in the sights unfolding before us. “It’s enormous. Have you ever been here before?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’ve heard of the Salt River before.”
When I see the body of water, I understand why that is. The Salt River is at least four times the size of the one I fell into earlier, and it’s filled with boats of all sizes.
Fishermen and merchants mill around the docks. Early-morning shoppers weave through them, filling wicker baskets that hang on their arms.
Hundreds of voices call to and fro. There’s a frantic energy in the salty air. The chaos is reminiscent of Mora, but the atmosphere is decidedly less joyful and more businesslike.
“Excuse me! Pardon me!” A young boy whose navy curls peek out from beneath his blue cap bumps into my arm. He races through the market, running around people before careening down the docks.
He’s not the only one in a hurry—everyone here seems to be moving with a purpose.
To my right, a group of fishermen are lugging in this morning’s catch. Their nets are brimming with fish whose tails slap on the ground as they valiantly attempt to escape their fate. These aren’t the tiny fish my brothers would sometimes pull out of Mud River in Grenbloom. Those were barely the size of my palms. These are massive. A few are as tall as the fishermen and women pulling them out of the water.
Kadyn touches my arm.
“Breakfast is on me,” he says quietly, steering me towards a merchant manning a fire nearby. He’s rotating skewers on a grate over flames, and as we draw near, he drizzles oil over the fish. “Thank the suns, I had some money in my cloak for my offering when you arrived. I’ve been saving it until we could spend it without attracting attention.”
I bite my lip. This is the closest either of us has come to acknowledging what happened the night of the Giving Festival.
Even though I’ve tried not to dwell on it, I’ve been thinking about Mirabelle and Joshua. We left them behind, and if their Giving Ceremonies went as planned, they’ve met the same fate as Amelia.
I’m not sure if there’s anything I could’ve done differently, but the weight of their deaths is heavy on my shoulders. It’s one thing to know the Given are being killed, but it’s another to have names and faces to put to them.
Still, we should be careful talking about this in the open. My eyes sweep across the River Market, checking for nearby soldiers. I don’t see any, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here. These days, Watchers are everywhere.
By the time my gaze has returned to the merchant, Kadyn has placed an order for four skewers, two for each of us. He pays with a silver coin. Once the merchant drizzles lemon over the top, we take our food and find an empty bench overlooking the water.
I’m not the biggest fan of fish, especially for breakfast, but at least it’s not jerky. I take a small bite of roasted fish, pleasantly surprised to find that it’s delicious. The fish is strongly spiced, but the lemon complements the flavors perfectly. I gobble it up quickly, my belly delighted by the warm meal.
Neither of us speaks until our skewers are empty. The silence between us isn’t heavy, but I can tell Kadyn has something on his mind. When we’re done, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares pensively at the water.
“The day my brother Kaleb was Given, I woke up with the strongest sense that something was off.” Kadyn’s pained voice is quiet, and I strain to hear him over the sounds of the morning market. “Like me, he’d been at the Giving Festival the day before, and he spent the night in the garden. Communing with the gods .”
Kadyn curls his fist and his chest heaves. Several moments pass in silence before he continues.
“It was wrong, but that morning, I snuck out of my house. Even though I wasn’t supposed to, I went to the Moran Gardens. I snuck past the Watchers and crept inside the tent. I spoke to Kaleb before they took him.”
He shudders. For a long moment, we sit and listen as the water rhythmically hits the sides of the dock.
“He didn’t… I told him I felt like something was off and begged him to run away, but he didn’t listen to me,” Kadyn chokes out. He opens his palms, tracing the lines of his left hand. “He was Given that same day.”
My heart constricts at the pain in his words, and I shake my head.
“I’m sorry.” The words sound inadequate, even to my own ears, and I place my hand on his arm. “Truly, Kadyn, I wish things had gone differently for you.”
I lost Amelia, but he lost his brother.
Kadyn looks up, his eyes shimmering beneath the shadows of his hood. “Being gods-blessed is a curse.”
I inhale sharply. “I know.”
How many times have I thought that exact same thing? Suns save me, but I know that all too well.
“My parents only had two children, and we were both born with Marks. Everyone in Mora called us blessed, but how can the Mark be a good thing when it stole my mother’s sons?”
He drops his head, raking his hands through his hair beneath his hood. His shoulders shake, and my heart cracks at the sight.
“Ma wept for a year after Kaleb was Given,” he says, staring at the ground. “Every single day, she sobbed. I had to stand by and watch her cry for the son she would never see again, knowing that in a decade, those same tears would flow for me. That she would weep for me as much as she did him.”
His muscles tense beneath my touch, and I shift closer to him. “Kadyn, I?—”
He turns to me, his eyes hard. He grits his teeth, and a vein pulses in his jaw. Grief morphs into anger.
“Every time we went to the temples, she searched for him. Every time we traveled to another city, she wondered if he was there, serving the gods. Ma wasted years trying to catch a glimpse of the son she lost, and now… now I find out it’s all a lie. He’s been dead the whole time.”
Visions of a pink light followed by blood pouring from Amelia’s neck flash through my mind. I draw in a stuttering breath, shaking my head.
“I know.” An amorous young couple walks by, trading kisses, and I shut my mouth, waiting for them to pass before I turn back to Kadyn. “I don’t know why they do this to the Given.”
Why kill everyone with a Mark?
“Neither do I.” Kadyn’s voice is quiet. Resigned. “But there has to be a reason. Maybe when we save your sisters, we’ll learn why they’re doing this.”
“Maybe,” I whisper, twisting Amelia’s bracelet around my wrist.
There are so many unknowns. So many things I don’t understand. It boggles my mind to think that, not long ago, I thought the Giving was something to look forward to. Now, I can’t imagine looking forward to anything ever again.
Life in the market continues around us. A young mother who can’t be much older than me walks past with her son, holding his hand as he toddles beside her. A sailor carrying a line full of fish hurries by, calling out into the crowd. Two older men laugh as they hobble past, leaning on canes and smiling as they reminisce about the past.
They’re all just living like this is any other day. And to them, it is. They’re unmarked, blissfully unaware of the horrors Kadyn and I are running from.
It isn’t fucking fair, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fairness, like the Giving, is a lie.
Some people are destined to have a nice, easy life. Those people see the light easily. I bet they can laugh at a moment’s notice, and they find joy in everything.
Then there are others, like Kadyn and me. People whose lives revolve around darkness.
The Marks we bear mean that we will never know a simple life.
The gods-blessed are doomed to darkness, a life where we are different from the moment we leave the safety of the womb.
The Given may stick together, but ours isn’t an easy path.
I’m not sure how long we sit there, the weight of everything that’s happening to us pushing us both down, before a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. At first, it’s so quick that I’m not sure I see it. But then, it appears again. And this time…
This time, I know it’s real.
Standing several dozen feet away, looking in the other direction, is a man taller than most others in the market.
It doesn’t matter that his back is to me. I’d recognize that hair anywhere. It’s been haunting my dreams, and now, my reality.
My chest tightens, and my empty skewers clatter to the ground, forgotten.
“Fuck,” I breathe, tugging my hood further over my head. “The Hunter is here.”