Keep it together, Astrid, the young woman thought to herself. You can do this.
But she couldn’t do it, not really. Yesterday, the mountain had finally come into view. She’d been walking for days, trying hard to evade capture. But who was chasing her, anyway? She wasn’t sure, but she was certain someone was watching.
Is it just my imagination?
Leaving the city and journeying through these harsh lands was an act of desperation, a last resort. What she needed now was help.
But not just anyone’s help.
She looked down at the baby, Raven, her damp black curls stuck to her forehead. The little one had been so quiet on the journey, never crying, almost as if she, too, knew of the danger. Now, Raven looked up at her mother, her crystal blue eyes searching Astrid’s.
“We’ll be okay,” Astrid said, more to herself than to the child.
Now, as she crept beneath the last shred of protection offered by a long–since dried copse of trees, she considered her options.
The dead grass that stood between her and the mountain was intimidating. But Raven’s father had told Astrid where he was headed, let it slip between angry words what his true path was. She hadn’t understood, and it wasn’t until Raven was crawling that she finally accepted his leaving them alone.
But everything had changed now. She had no choice. She had to find him.
As she moved away from the trees, she took in the sight of the mountain before her. Devil Mountain; her mother had always called it that. Astrid hadn’t understood why Raven’s father had left or what about this most dangerous place had drawn him to it. But she did understand the desire to leave the city and all of its misery behind.
He’s out there. Somewhere.
She took a deep breath, but this was a mistake; immediately, a volley of deep, hacking coughs took over her body. The baby looked up at her, and while she wasn’t yet speaking, she frowned.
Maybe she knows.
But there was nothing for it. Astrid stepped out into the sun, immediately feeling the warmth of its rays on the back of her neck. Her skin was pale white beneath the dirt and grime of travel, and while the warmth of the sun was pleasant, she knew it wouldn’t be long before it would burn like fire.
For a moment, she turned back; this was her last chance, the last time she would be able to make the choice to either return to the city or continue to the mountain.
Raven put one tiny hand upon her cheek, and Astrid knew what she had to do.
* * *
Everything had gone wrong; none of this was supposed to happen. But when she saw the group of outcasts emerging from the shadows of the mountain, she knew it would be either the life or the death of her.
But she had been too long without water, without food, and when she finally fell to her knees in the dirt, she knew she’d made the right choice.
Even among people like these, dangerous people, sick people, she knew her chances of survival were better than they might’ve been had she stayed. Or, at least, Raven’s chances.
It took everything Astrid had to keep Raven’s little head from hitting the ground as she fell. Then, as if she understood that something had changed, the little girl cried, shrieked, somehow knowing these were to be her last moments with her mother.
Time blurred, and Astrid wasn’t sure whose hands it had been to take the baby from her. All she knew was that she was gone now, that Astrid was alone, and that the baby had been saved. So, as she took what she was certain would be her last breaths, she found within her a measure of understanding, acceptance.
She closed her eyes, and the last, screaming word she heard before she lost consciousness was, “Mama!”
I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.
Prologue
Rainn had never fired a gun despite being taught by Sebastian how to wield one. Bullets were a rare commodity, and she had always managed to get along without them.
Beneath her, the great chestnut horse moved from side to side, seemingly worried in the same way she was. Rainn had fond memories of the day this beast had been born. Where some foals might’ve hidden behind their mothers, this one had jumped around almost immediately, just minutes from having emerged from the womb. His little hooves had kicked against the stall walls, and Rainn had thought he would be wild forever.
Like her.
She looked down into the valley, and what she saw made a wave of pinpricks crawl across her skin. She put down the scope, too afraid to face what was down there.
People gathered, at least twenty of them, all of them convicts from the city sent there to die. Those in power in the city called the lower parts of the mountain a detention unit, but she knew the people called themselves “The Alliance.” It was a secret name not meant to share, and yet everyone seemed to know it, even the people in Rainn’s village.
She put the scope up to her eye again, unable to stop her curiosity. She’d long wondered about the people who lived down in the camps, about whether they were as evil as the elders in her village believed. But, just as they’d said repeatedly, they were a dangerous bunch. More than once they had raided her village, stealing from their already short-supplied stashes. They even took the bones thrown away to the dogs, leaving them just as hungry as anyone else.
Suddenly, one of the men below looked up and pointed in her direction. A moment later, he and two others ran from their exposed place in the valley toward the base of the mountain. Toward her.
Immediately, she took action. She kicked the horse, and he didn’t waste a moment at her urging. Even though they’d only been riding together for a few short months, Rainn was an expert in the saddle. This horse knew what a kick meant, so much more urgent than a squeeze. He took off, flying up the hill at her direction.
Rainn knew logically it would take the men hours to reach her, even if she’d stood still and waited for them. But after a lifetime of warnings and the wave of panic that was now breaking upon her, logic was lost.
She didn’t stop the horse until they’d reached the top of the hill; it was theoretically safer than where they’d been standing, but part of her understood that was only theoretical. The men, if fit, would be able to get to her no matter where she was.
But they’re not fit. They’re starving.
She wasn’t far from that, either. The horse, however, had plenty of food in the way of dried grass that surrounded the mountain. It was his strength she was counting on now.
With shaking hands she put the scope to her eye once more, but this time she saw nothing. The entire group below had vanished, and the illogical part of her imagined the entire lot of them were climbing the foothills like spiders, each of them intent on hurting her.
Just breathe, she thought. Sebastian has taught you well enough.
This time when she put the scope away, she stuffed it deep into her backpack, determined not to be tempted again. As she tucked it beneath her ratty old sweater, her fingers closed around the gun she carried.
She withdrew it from the pack and looped the reins around her forearm, holding the metal with both hands and determined to regain her composure. She knew better; of the thirty people left in her village, she was one of the strongest, and that meant she couldn’t allow her actions to be dictated by fear. She tried to slow her breathing, to release the tension in her chest, as if she had absolute power over her body.
Instead, she felt suffocated as she tried to hold back tears.
How could someone so strong be so weak in the face of fear? In the face of danger?
Perhaps if she’d had Sebastian with her, she might’ve felt protected, but as it was, she was on her own. He’d sent her out to hunt, pointedly giving her the gun along with Phoenix’s reins. That was the name of this wild, red horse, and as he pranced forward and backward, side to side, she was finally able to get her breathing under control. There was no other way to calm such a horse.
She sat up tall, tucking the gun into her belt and angrily wiping away her tears. This time when she set off, it was only a gentle squeeze that came from her legs.
Was that enough?
No. The panic she’d felt had transferred to the horse, and even though they were circling around the hill, heading back home now, he pulled on the reins, snorting, white foam sweat on his neck an unexpected indicator of stress.
It took her several minutes to calm him, and she found that by the time the small valley where she lived came into view, she’d managed it. But then, realizing she was empty-handed, she pulled him up short.
It wouldn’t do to come back with nothing. She looked over her shoulder; now the issue was trust. Everyone back at Wild Oak, her village, was waiting on her, relying on her to provide them with their dinner. She’d had some experience setting snares, but in an arid land like this, their success was hit or miss.
No, she had to go back to the hunt. The sun wasn’t yet setting; she had a few hours left, and even though she wanted desperately to run back to Sebastian and tell him everything she’d seen, she wanted this post, this job, even more. For her first day out on her own, she wasn’t doing well. What did they expect of her? Would she be forced to face the jaunts from the other villagers if she failed to bring back prey?
She didn’t want to take the chance.
She turned Phoenix around, and while he struggled against her, clearly wanting to be back in his safe pasture, he finally relented and walked away from it.
There were other places Rainn could go. The snares had just been checked that morning, so she knew it was unlikely that they would be full before tomorrow. There was the possibility, however slim, that she could see a deer. She let her thumb slide over the handle of the gun; then, in a rush, she withdrew it from her belt and pointed it at nothing.
I’m fast enough. If I see one…
Despite her fear, she was just as hungry as anyone else. Her stomach had long since stopped growling; now, it simply hurt. She thought of the two little kids who lived nearby her cabin, the only children left in the village now that she’d grown. She knew that if her stomach hurt, theirs would be torture. Knowing this gave her new resolve, and this time when she kicked Phoenix, she felt quite calm.
But Phoenix did not feel calm. Instead of moving forward, he stopped dead in his tracks, his tail swishing from side to side. With each kick from Rainn, he kicked out his back legs, and a couple of times she nearly fell. This weirdly made her laugh, an uncommon reaction to most anything on the mountain.
Instead of kicking him harder, she let herself relax in the saddle. She leaned over and wiped away some of the white foam that covered his neck.
“You’ll be okay, mister,” she said quietly. “I promise I’ll take you back there. But we have work to do, you and I.”
Finally, after much coaxing, the horse moved out. They might’ve been off trail on the way back home from the meeting spot she shared with Sebastian, but now that she had her bearings, she walked him across the side of the hill until the main trail was visible. As soon as Phoenix’s hooves began to clack on the hard-packed earth, she felt back at home. She knew this trail, knew where it would lead, and even though it would take an hour to get there, she was taking him to the last place she had seen a deer. It had been months before that a small doe and her fawn had happened across her path. She’d had no weapon then, so she’d simply stopped to watch.
The deer had eyed her cautiously, but she seemed to know that Rainn posed little threat. Nevertheless, she led the fawn away from her at a brisk pace, leaving Rainn to watch after them, hungry but also amazed; such sightings on the mountain were rare, but it was a secret she kept to herself. She hadn’t even told Sebastian about them, for what might he have told her to do?
Sebastian was a gentle man, and through his hands many creatures had felt his healing, Rainn included. But still, she feared that someday she would push him too hard, she would do something terrible that would result in him leaving her on her own. Did she deserve any better?
She wasn’t sure.
She was an orphan, and as a baby she had been forced to live with an old couple who’d never had a child. They weren’t bad people, and Rainn had spent many nights tucked in beside the woman, enveloped in her arms. But this didn’t change the fact that she’d long since been left behind, even if it had been the death of her parents to do it.
Now, she was forced to come up on her own; her guardians, as she called them, were growing frail, and Rainn wasn’t sure how many years they might have left with her. She’d long since wondered what might become of herself after they passed, but she’d always been too frightened to ask the question. She didn’t even talk to Sebastian about it, as he was an older man, himself, and she didn’t want to offend him. So, the truth remained: she would simply be forced to wait and see what would happen after the worst occurred.
After half an hour on the trail, the sweat upon Phoenix’s neck began to dry, making his coat stick out at crazy angles. It was then that she saw him: a great buck stood on the trail before them, quietly chewing dried grass. She pulled on Phoenix’s reins.
She carefully reached around and released the gun from her belt. Her heart beat wildly as she pointed it at the buck; but he didn’t move, just stood there staring at her. Could it be that he was, in fact, that fawn she’d once seen? No, of course not. Not enough time had passed, and yet a crushing guilt settled into her chest.
You have to do it. They’re all waiting for you.
So, fighting back tears for the second time that day, she aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.