Recurve

I rocked back on my heels, and a cough turned us all around.

He was pale, and his eyes fogged with pain, but there were no worms on him, and that gave me hope we would be okay.

“Not quite the last three,” I said softly.

Ash stared at us. “That’s it? Three Seeders and me to defend the Rim?”

Blossom nodded. “Yes.” And then burst into tears once more.

“Then I guess we’d better move your training up,” he said, naturally stepping into Granite’s role. Taking his place as our mentor.

He sent us out to help those who needed a hand, clearing bodies, getting the ones too weak to stand back to their homes. The day waned and still we lifted bodies, both alive and dead.

With the fading light, I found myself in the gathering field, the mound of dirt where Cassava had stood still there, unchanged. Chunks of boulders lay here and there, and a few people pointed at them, questioning who had done it.

My feet carried me closer until I could see the depression where Granite’s body had lain.

It was gone. I grabbed at the sleeve of one of the men helping. “Did someone move him?”

He paused and looked at where I pointed. “Move who?”

Jaw ticking, I ran to the spot I’d left Granite. No body, no blood. But around the edges were large score marks, like that of a large bird’s claw scooping up its prey.

I swallowed down a sudden uprush of bile. They were both still out there. A not so small part of me was happy; I didn’t want Granite dead. He’d been my only friend in a long time, and I didn’t want to wish him ill.

Cassava on the other hand . . . .

A hand clapped on my shoulder, and I didn’t need to turn to know it was Griffin. “She won’t give up, you know that.”

“I know. I just wish someone else believed me.” The tendrils of a fresh wind blew through the trees, wiping away the scent of disease and death, bringing with it the sharp bite of a coming autumn.

A second hand clapped me on my other shoulder. “I believe you.”

I turned my head. Ash stared at me, his eyes no longer full of hate. “You were the only one who could see through her lies, Larkspur, even I was wrapped in her spells. None of us would have made it without you.”

I thought about the ring, how the earth had sucked it down. If someone else found it, we would be no better off. In my mind’s eye, I could see Belladonna slipping the ring on her finger, and taking up where her mother had left off. My gorge rose. I slipped away from the two men. “Thank you, but I have to go.”

Without another word, I strode toward the planting fields, grabbed a single tool, and then headed for the Spiral. The thought of someone else holding that ring, of wielding whatever power it had over our people made me want to vomit. Stomach rolling with anxiety, I found the spot where the earth had swallowed her finger with ease. Her blood had soaked in, but the dark spot was still easily visible.

I pushed the spade into the earth and lifted out the clump of dirt. Three shovelfuls, and there was nothing.

“What are you doing?”

I didn’t look up at Raven, just kept digging. “Go away.”

“You’re looking for her finger, aren’t you?”

I stopped my shoveling and looked up at him finally. “Yes, now go away.”

“Why?”

“Raven”—I dug another scoop and dumped it out on the floor—“I have to hide it.”

“Her finger?”

Let him believe that, it was easier. “Yes, I have to hide her finger.”

“Hmm. Why exactly?”

I still was trying to figure out who had sucked the finger down. Had it been my father? Or maybe one of my siblings? Too hard to say, I hadn’t been able to watch everyone’s hands while I wrestled Cassava.

“Never mind.”

Another scoop and I was standing over a hole almost three feet deep. And there it was, laying there, her finger still twitching, as if with a life of its own.

Raven drew close and I swung the spade out, stopping him. “No, I mean it, Raven, you don’t need to see this.” In reality, I didn’t want him to know the ring was what had given his mother her power. And he was smart enough to put two and two together if he saw it.

I leaned into the hole and with one hand slid the ring off, palming it, then stood with the finger. Raven handed me a small piece of silk and I wrapped her finger in it. “Raven, I’m sorry about your mom.”

He shrugged. “She wasn’t a good mom, she didn’t even like me. Told me so on several occasions. You know, I remember your mom, but I could never tell you. I fell down in front of her once, when I was very little, split my lip open.” His eyes had gone distant with remembering. “She picked me up and held me close, sang softly to me until I stopped crying. It’s the only time I remember someone comforting me. She smelled like exotic flowers, scents I couldn’t name even now.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. Moving forward, I brushed past him. “Raven, will you fill that in for me?”

“Sure.”

And then I was outside of the Spiral and heading for the southern edge of the forest. I walked, unable to do anything more. It didn’t matter how long it took me, there was no urgency any longer. So I breathed in the smells of the forest, and tried to put everything that had happened behind me. At least for a little while.

I passed by Griffin’s home and stepped to the edge of the ravine. I tossed the finger down, watched it tumble over the rocks and disappear into the scree.