89. Sloan
EIGHTY-NINE
SLOAN
Sloan’s stomach felt like it was going to burst as she turned the last corner that would lead to her destination. The top button to her pants had been loosened, the burger she’d ordered to-go still uneaten in a bag she held in her left hand.
She had spent so long in the restaurant, the sun was setting. A full moon was slowly drifting upward.
A pair of soldiers Sloan didn’t recognize passed on the opposite side of the street. They exchanged confused looks, but still offered her crisp salutes.
In turn, Sloan only stared at them until they looked away. The aroma from her childhood overwhelmed the smell of the cold burger in her bag. A bakery stood on the corner, its owner closing up for the night. A dry cleaner on the opposite end did the same.
The scent of the two establishments combined to make one of the best odors Sloan had ever smelt. In a way, it was the best part of her childhood. Bouncing around from orphanage to foster home to orphanage hadn’t been easy.
As a child, she had never known her parents, much less what a family was. The idea of people being related and caring for one another was as foreign to her as flying to a fish.
In a way, the army had been the closest thing to a family Sloan had ever known, the Queen the most similar thing to a parent.
Sloan stopped in front of a massive house with peeling white paint.
She leaned against the ill-kept gate. Weeds dominated the yard.
Lights that would have shone in every window a few years before were now dark.
The orphanage sign was long gone, leaving a building abandoned to only the memory of what it had once represented. Sloan’s grip on the paper bag tightened as she was transported back in time to relive her childhood, like some kind of punishment.
“Excuse me, mum.”
A young girl’s voice broke Sloan out of her trance-like state. Sloan wasn’t sure how long she had been standing in front of the empty building—minutes, maybe; surely not an hour—but the sky was dark. The moon was full, huge and bright.
“Yes?” Sloan looked the girl up and down. She couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. Her clothes were worn, but she was clean. “What is it?”
“Did you live there?” The girl pointed to the dark orphanage. “I lived there for a time before it was shut down, and I was moved to the Albright Orphanage down on Thirty-second Street.”
“I did live there.” Sloan knelt down next to the girl. “That makes you and I sisters in a way.”
“Oh, really?” The young girl’s face lit up. She smiled, showing two rows of crooked teeth. “My name’s Cherish.”
“Cap—” Sloan caught herself. Was she still prepared to be a captain in the Queen’s army after the events of the day? “My name’s Sloan.”
“Sloan.” Cherish repeated the word with reverence. “You’re in the Queen’s army, then? You must be so brave. I don’t think I could ever do that. Everyone says I’m not worth anything.”
Sloan wasn’t the motherly type, but something much like motherly instinct caused her to reach forward and place a hand on Cherish’s shoulder. The young girl flinched under her touch.
“You decide how much you’re worth, Cherish.
” Sloan looked deep into the girl’s dark brown eyes.
“Not your friends, not your enemies. Every day, you teach people how to treat you. People want to tell you what you can and can’t do, because that’s what they’ve told themselves in the mirror every morning.
It’s easier to write something off as impossible, than to actually apply yourself day after day to accomplish that goal. ”
“You’re saying I can be like one of those heroes who rescued Burrow Den from the beast?” The girl’s eyes lit up as bright as the moon. “I heard one of them was the Queen’s own guard. She fights like a goddess incarnate. Fire shoots from her sword, and no one knows her true name.”
“Yes.” Sloan gave the girl’s arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. “I’m saying you can be just like her. You can be better than her. You should be getting along now, it’s late. Do you like burgers?”
Cherish accepted the bag, gave Sloan a quick awkward hug, then ran down the street.
Sloan was left alone for a moment. But just as thoughts that things might be all right had entered her mind, the screaming started.