Chapter 12 Hanne #3
“Plant fibers,” I said. “A mixture of several different kinds. I started to work on the arrows, but that’s been more challenging.
” I reached for the few that I’d created, wooden sticks with misshapen wooden feathers.
“On the surface, these arrows are made with feathers. Helps them fly. As far as I can tell, there are no birds here.”
“There are,” Morco said. “They’re just hard to see in the dark.”
“I haven’t heard them.”
“Because they don’t want to be heard.”
Because we lived in a dark world where hiding was the best survival. “Can you hunt them?”
He shook his head. “They’ve never been our primary prey. We’ve harvested their eggs from nests in Stonework.”
“Stonework?” I asked.
“The fortress my ancestors built. It was home until we were forced to flee.”
I nodded in understanding with a twinge of pain. They hadn’t always lived out in the open in little cabins with no food. They’d had a place to call home…until someone took it away.
“We can’t rely on feathers,” Morco said. “We’ll need a substitute.” He stared at me like he expected me to produce an answer right on the spot.
“I—I don’t know.”
“We’re so close. This is the last component we need.”
“Morco, I said I don’t know—”
“But I know you’ll figure it out.” He didn’t raise his voice or seem angry, but his tone deepened. “You always have. You always do.”
Caius looked away, like he felt as if he was intruding on a private conversation.
I was irritated that Morco simplified something so complex, but I was also touched that the believed in me so unconditionally. That he didn’t care how difficult the task seemed, he had faith that I would find a way. “Okay.”
“The rest of the meat has gone bad. We’ll need to hunt again.” Morco turned to Caius, like this was his responsibility. “Morale in the camp has increased. Everyone seems stronger. We need to continue that.”
Caius didn’t object. “I won’t pretend I haven’t enjoyed being full for the first time since…I can’t even remember.”
“Gather a team and leave today or tomorrow.”
I was relieved Morco wasn’t leaving. If he did, I would probably go with him.
Morco looked at me again, his stare back to penetrating and intense. “My mother wishes to speak with you.”
My instinct was to swallow. I couldn’t imagine how terrified my expression must have looked. She’d been in the cabin when Morco was ill, but I hadn’t even looked at her, wanting to be out of her space as she comforted her son. “Why?”
His eyes had been born of the night, dark and endless, but full of so much substance. He showed it to me now, looking at me as his equal rather than his subject. “Because you’re leading our people as much as I am.”
Morco escorted me farther down the path than I’d ever been.
The cabins were larger here, and one was bigger than all the others, a building surrounded by several bonfires, a set of double doors that led inside.
“Your mother lives here alone?” I asked, wondering why a single woman had so much space.
“No. She lives with the rest of the Elders.”
I’d never seen anyone who wasn’t my age.
Everyone at the Gathering was young. Now, I realized there was a separation between the two groups.
The young worked while the old rested. It was a sign of respect, but I didn’t understand why age exempted them from work.
My father worked every day until his death.
I stopped before we reached the door, feeling a surge of uneasiness.
Morco halted when he realized I was no longer at his side. He turned back to me and absorbed my trepidation. “What do you fear?”
“Does she…know about us?” Was I here to meet his mother? Or was I here for the good of the Obsidian tribe?
He stared for a while before he stepped closer, like he might touch me, might even kiss me. “She knew before I did.” His eyes flicked back and forth between mine before he turned away.
I followed him inside, and we walked into an entry with a fireplace that illuminated the room. Two maids were there, one holding a bucket of water like she was about to help someone bathe.
The other approached Morco and waited for his orders.
“My mother is expecting us.”
She nodded. “This way.” She led us into a hallway and then into another large room, chairs and couches on rugs, several fireplaces against the walls to illuminate all the corners. Groups of people sat in different sitting areas, engaged in quiet conversation.
One woman sat alone and faced us directly.
And she had no eyes.
I stilled at the sight, releasing a gasp I was powerless to stop.
Morco stopped beside me but didn’t look at me.
Empty eye sockets stared back at me, dents in the skull, scars all around the eyebrows and the cheeks, like someone had carved them out with a knife and missed several times in the struggle.
“I thought you knew.”
When I’d come to his bedside, I’d been focused on him and nothing else. In a different situation, I would have noticed that the woman beside me had no eyes. I wished I’d noticed then instead of gasped in horror like this, but my reaction would have been the same in either instance.
“Do not fear my appearance, Hanne,” she said with a strong voice. “Our vengeance is due.”
Morco’s hand went to my arm, and he gently held me. It didn’t elicit a surge of heat and desire like it did before.
I was too horrified to be affected.
He guided me to one of the chairs that faced her before he took the seat beside me.
A heavy silence enclosed us in an invisible bubble. My breathing was still elevated, and I did my best to fight it. I didn’t want to subject her to my discomfort. My eyes shifted away to focus on something else. I looked at the other elders in the room.
They didn’t have eyes either.
The flames cast deep shadows in the empty sockets. They looked like skeletons with skin. They didn’t face one another head on…because they couldn’t see where their companions sat.
My eyes immediately flicked away, and this time, I didn’t gasp.
Morco reached out his hand for mine and squeezed it on my thigh.
I squeezed it back before I looked at him, tears burning in my eyes, my hand trembling.
He stared with the strength of two men, loaning me his stability when I felt none. It was a sight he must have grown used to over time, or perhaps he just pretended for my benefit. His lips moved, and he mouthed, “It’s okay.”
“The Knives may have taken my sight, but they can never take my heart.” In a long-sleeved dress made of beige hemp and fur, she straight perfectly straight in the chair, holding herself like a queen who had a ferocious army at her disposal. “Our day will come—and they will bleed.”
My breaths hadn’t regulated yet, finally understanding why the Knives were so deeply feared.
“And I believe that day will come in my lifetime—because of you.”
My eyes returned to her face, and this time, I remained subdued. Looked into the chasms where her eyes should be, eyes that would probably look like her son’s. “You overestimate my contribution.”
“And you undervalue it,” she said somewhat coldly.
“One day, you will know motherhood, and on that day, you will understand what you’ve done for me.
My son, my leader, my world, lives—because of the courage that burns in your heart.
I have little to offer you in gratitude, but I will give all of what I have left. ”
My eyes dropped down like the contact was too intimate, but because she didn’t have eyes, it changed nothing.
The intimacy of her words was as powerful as Morco’s stare.
I still felt the uncomfortable burn of praise I didn’t believe I deserved.
“I didn’t save him for you. Or the tribe. I saved him for…for me.”
Morco continued to stare at the side of my face, choosing to look at me rather than his mother. His hand didn’t squeeze mine, but he lightly brushed his callused thumb over the surface in acknowledgment.
“I’m grateful that my son means as much to you as he does to me.”
My eyes continued to focus past her face, unable to accept the horror of what had been done to her. What had been done to all the Elders in that room. Now I hated myself for questioning their hierarchy of labor, not realizing that the Elders were literally blind.
“You’ve provided food for our starving tribe. You’ve healed my son with your botanical knowledge. And now he tells me you’ve made a weapon—a bow. Don’t diminish your achievements, Hanne.”
“I’m not sure if it will work—”
“It will work.” Morco continued to stare at me. “You will find a way.”
“We always have,” she said. “We always will.”
I looked down at my hand in Morco’s. I slid my fingers between his.
“You’ve earned your place here, Hanne.” She sat still as a statue, like a mountain that wouldn’t bow to the wind. Her lack of orientation in space made her seem more rigid. “And you’ve earned your seat here with me. We have much to discuss.”
I had been touched that Morco wanted to introduce me to his mother, but now I realized that hadn’t been his intent. He wanted me to help him lead the tribe—and that was a far bigger compliment. I didn’t know how to accept their kindness graciously, so I let the silence speak on my behalf.
“We’ve been existing rather than living, and I’m tired of hiding like a rat in the dark.
These Depths belonged to us first. We’ve claimed this land as our home, and then they came and poisoned it.
” Her hands were together on her knee, her legs crossed, trousers visible under her coat, and her feet bare.
“It’s time we take it back. What are your ideas? ”
The pressure was suffocating, like a heavy rain cloud that continued to drop rain. “I appreciate your belief in my capabilities, but I’m not a warlord. I’ve never served in an army. I’ve never lived through a battle. I’m just a girl who knows how to garden.”