Recurve

I reached out and touched her wrist. “Hey, she probably won’t even like him. He’s too scrawny. She likes them like Ash, tall and on the fat side.” I indicated at the Ender with a bob of my head and Blossom looked at him. Ash was anything but fat, but I wanted to soothe Blossom’s worries. I didn’t like to see pain in her eyes.

“You think?”

“Yeah, Mal isn’t the queen’s type.”

Ash, feeling our eyes on him, turned to glare at us. I wiggled my fingers at him, speaking loud enough that he couldn’t miss my words. “He loves the queen. Don’t you, Ash?”

His eyes narrowed so far, I wondered if they were even open anymore. Blossom, leaned into me. “He might love the queen, but I don’t think he likes you.”

With a grunt, I agreed. “Yeah, that’s the understatement of the season.”

My body, so newly healed from the attack of Griffin, still ached, but I didn’t have the luxury of taking a day off.

Granite looked us over. “Seeders, ready?”

We all nodded.

“Enders, ready?”

The Enders grinned. Yeah, this was going to be rough.

“Begin!”

I battled it out with my sandling, which was of course being manipulated by Ash. I wanted to cheer the first time I took its head, only to want to cry when its head slowly regrew.

To my left, Blossom panted. “Lark, got any ideas?”

I wiped sweat from my eyes, the grit of dirt mixed in with it stinging my skin. “Not a clue.”

It didn’t help that my mind was still on my father’s visit, which left me fighting without any real effort. Sure, he’d come to fill in the hole that I may or may not have made. But what was that about the eastern front? Wasn’t that were the ranger had said the trees were dying? Was something going on, was the disease not caught by the healer?

The end of the day finally came and the Enders lowered the sandlings, who just absorbed back into the ground as if they’d never been.

Granite checked on each of us, then disappeared to his rooms.

The idea of the eastern front, and of my father’s obvious worry, stuck to me. I no longer had Coal to go through to get the gossip, which meant I had to get it straight from the source.

Granite knew what was going on, and I thought—hoped—he would tell me if I asked. Maybe there was nothing I could do, but I hated to be in the dark. Hated to have secrets wound around me. Especially now, after all that had happened.

I knocked on his door, my knuckles bruised and bleeding, dirt sticking in the wounds, yet I barely felt it.

“Enter,” he barked.

The door opened soundlessly. “Granite, I have a question.”

“Lark, I don’t have time for questions.” I ignored him and barreled forward, coming to a stop beside his well-worn wooden desk.

“What is going on in the eastern front?”

He looked up from where he sat, paper strewn in front of him. I saw the words ‘disease’ and ‘dying.’ More worrisome was the ‘spreading fast’ I glimpsed before he covered the sheets, shoving them into the bottom drawer. I strained to see more, but only caught a glimpse of a stack of the green human money used for when an Ender went into the human world on a run.

“None of your concern. Your job is to train, and train well.”

“But—”

He stood up fast and I braced myself, putting one leg back and balancing so if he hit me, I could take the blow. A smile lit his face for just a moment. “You’re getting better. But you aren’t good enough to deal with this. Go, take your rest and get food into your guts.”

I backed out of the room, frustration filling me. I was not a child, yet even now I was treated as one.

“Damn it.” I slapped the wall as I walked, which only served to make my palm tingle uncomfortably.

My own room was at the farthest end of the barracks and I suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of being there. But where else could I go?

The truth was, nowhere. This was my home; this was where I had to stay. There could be no running away for me, no going back to the Planter’s fields or, I snorted, the Spiral. The barracks was my home.

I slipped into my room and shut the door behind me, leaning against it.

I looked around the small space, blinking, wondering if I was seeing things. “Damn.”

My room was tidy, the bed made and the clothing hung. Not at all the mess I’d left it. Like someone had suddenly decided I needed a clean and neat room. An envelope lay on the bed.

I picked it up, turning it over a couple of times before cracking it open.

Meet me at your home as soon as possible. I’ll be waiting.

Fern

I turned the paper over and lifted it to my nose, smelling it. There was a hint of citrus, which was good enough for me. Cassava hated citrus scents, so I was pretty sure it wasn’t her. Mostly sure. Ok, not at all, for all I knew it could be some sort of trap. But what if it was Fern? Maybe she had a message from my father. Or maybe she could tell me what was happening on the eastern front. That was enough to go.

I tucked the envelope into my vest. What in the world could Fern want from me? It wasn’t like we were friends, she’d treated me like she was the princess and I the lowly planter all the years we knew each other, even though it had been her family in the planting fields and mine in the Spiral.

The world was a twisted place that sent me to the fields, and her into the arms of the king.

Outside the barracks, only a few people were roaming the main pathways. Most people would be in their homes with their families eating, resting after a long day in whatever task they favored. Those who I saw on my walk to my apartment were like me. Alone.