The Scourge (A.G. Henley)

CHAPTER Twenty



I become aware of my surroundings slowly. I’m in the caves, stretched out on some sort of lumpy pallet, and my head’s bandaged with cloth—again. A headache cleaves my body like a well-aimed ax. Low voices echo around me, and someone is holding my hand. I squeeze the thin fingers.

“Fenn?”

“Eland,” I whisper. I push myself up, but the movement causes the ax to burrow deeper, so I lay down again. Eland puts his arms around me instead. I can feel the outline of every rib in his bowed back, but he’s alive and whole-bodied as far as I can tell. And he smells of fresh air and soap.

I smile, my lips cracking. “You’ve been outside . . .”

“The Lofties let us go home.”

He sounds older somehow, more mature than he did even a few weeks ago. The innocence that was already beginning to fade in his twelve-year-old voice is gone. I feel like a mourner who not only didn’t get to say good-bye to the deceased, but also missed the funeral.

A soft sound escapes him, half hiccup, half sob. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“I’ll always come back for you, Eland.”

There’s a screech from nearby. “Fennel! You’re awake!” Calli leaps on me, her long, wispy hair pooling in my face as she hugs me. “How do you feel?” Her voice has the same childlike quality as before, but like Eland’s, it’s changed, too. There's a hard edge.

“I’ve been worse,” I answer, thinking of my most hopeless moments in the pit.

“Where were you?” she asks. “Before you strolled into the middle of the negotiations, I mean. I was in here helping Marjoram, but I heard all about it.”

The time is coming when I’ll need to tell everyone my story, but for now I sidestep her question. “What happened with the Lofties? I don’t remember anything after I hit my head. And where’s Aloe?”

Eland’s hand stiffens in mine. Neither of them speaks. A spear of apprehension jabs into my gut.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Marj did everything she could . . . but Aloe had bled too much,” Calli says softly.

“We buried her yesterday,” Eland mumbles.

My chest tightens and my limbs feel strangely useless, like limp strands of waterweed. Something inside me crawls into a small ball, refusing to acknowledge their words. Aloe’s not gone, I tell myself, she’s just busy getting things sorted outside. She’ll come to me soon. As if I tell myself that enough times, my wish will come true.

“What happened?” I whisper.

They tell me everything. After I left to find the Waters, Adder grew increasingly distracted and paranoid. If anyone questioned a decision of the Three, he accused them of being spies and traitors, calling them Lofty-lovers. He was furious when he found out I’d been in the Lofty trees on the night of my punishment, especially because he didn’t hear it from Aloe. She should have told him, as a fellow member of the Council. He became suspicious of her motives.

Adder threatened Aloe. If he found out she was speaking to Shrike or any other Lofty while she collected the water, if she disagreed with his decisions, if she sided with Sable over him—if she went against Adder in any way—Eland would have an unfortunate accident. Accidents happen in the caves.

Eland said Thistle’s third son, the one whose name I could never remember, began hanging around him all the time, even sleeping near him. He never did anything overt that would rouse the suspicions of others, but he also never let Eland out of his sight. He just sat nearby, playing with a small knife used for gutting animals. It was enough to terrify Eland and Aloe both, and to buy her cooperation. As Sable’s health failed by the minute, Adder cloaked himself with the power of the Three.

He ordered the attack on the trees, believing the Lofties planned to hold them in the caves indefinitely. The people were desperate and afraid. Many were sick from a stomach ailment. They would agree to do anything to get out, even something perilous and ill-considered. And with Aloe and Sable’s continued silence, there didn’t seem to be another alternative.

After the attack failed, guards were posted at every entrance to the caves. Adder justified it by saying he was protecting them from retaliation, but it kept in people who might have gone out to try to make peace with the Lofties. As far as I can tell, no one knew I had returned. Moray told everyone he bit his tongue while eating jerky.

Then Peree came into the caves, looking for me. Calli said he was limping badly, but he still managed to saunter in like he belonged there. He would have been killed on the spot if Aloe hadn’t intervened. She stood in front of him, protecting him from the spears. She convinced Adder he could be used as a bargaining tool with the Lofties. It was the best she could do to spare his life.

On the day of the Reckoning, as people are calling it, right before the negotiations, Aloe finally confided in Fox about Adder’s blackmail. She asked him to step in as a de facto member of the Three, to temper Adder’s madness. I wondered why she didn’t tell someone what was happening sooner. Eland said she probably wasn’t sure who she could trust. Adder had allies, and not all of them were as vocal as Thistle and her family.

Adder insisted Eland come to the mouth of the caves during the negotiations while the other children were kept behind, to remind Aloe of what she had to lose if she didn’t keep her mouth shut. She died protecting Eland. I wish I could say it was a stray Lofty arrow that killed her, but Marjoram told me it was a spear wound.

My only comfort is knowing that the choices Aloe made were for Eland’s sake. She forwent her duty in order to protect him. I would have, too. I try not to think about the times I needed her protection but didn’t get it, from being blinded as a baby, right up through the Reckoning. Instead, I remember she was doing the best she could to protect her children under difficult circumstances. Maybe all mothers are.

Sable and Willow succumbed to their illnesses days ago. Thistle, her sons, and a few others are being held under guard, until a decision is made about what to do with them. Adder was killed by Lofty arrows. Scores of them. No doubt he was targeted. With Adder, Aloe, and Sable gone, Fox, Pinion, and Bream were chosen as temporary Council members. They persuaded the Lofties to let us bury our dead and return home.

That is what I know.

This is what I don’t know–

If Peree lives. Eland said Peree managed to wrestle Cuda’s spear away from him again when the fighting started. He knocked Cuda out rather than killing him. All anyone could remember about Peree after that was he ran out into the Scourge like he’d suddenly gone mad. Eland thought he was consumed by the flesh-eaters, but Calli said she heard he was shot by a Lofty.

It can’t be true. Peree can’t be dead. But I’m haunted by Kadee’s wail of despair. How could he have survived—a fair-haired, fair-eyed target for generations of Groundling resentment and rage? Or survived the conviction of many of his own people that he was about to be consumed by the Scourge?

I’m strong. The last month convinced me of that. But losing Peree and Aloe in one day is more than my heart can bear.



I sit in the circle of light from the fire, singing softly to Bear as he coughs and shifts on his pallet. The throbbing ache in my head returns with brutal swiftness when I think about Peree, but physically I’m improving. I touch the bandage on Bear’s side, under his left ribs, to be sure the wound isn’t bleeding again. My guilt grows the longer he remains unconscious.

Calli told me Bear made it to the caves after I literally slipped out of his hands, only to have Moray stab him in the back. Bear’s lung was pierced, but somehow he fought him off. I can’t say I was glad to hear Moray survived.

Calli started helping in the infirmary when so many people began falling ill from the pestilential conditions in the caves. Marj and she work diligently and without complaint over the long hours. I admire their determination while I sit in a silent stupor of grief.

“Hey, Fenn, guess what?” Calli says as she leans over Bear, probably checking his temperature. He isn’t feverish anymore, thank the stars. “Cricket told me last night he was going to ask me to dance at the Solstice. He wanted to know if I would have.”

I twitch, remembering Bear asking me the same thing. “What did you tell him?”

“That he’ll have to wait and see." Her voice takes on a mock mysterious tone.

I try to smile for her. “I thought he was too short for you.”

“Who knows . . . maybe he’ll grow some more before next year.”

“Not likely,” Bear whispers.

I grab his hand, but Calli pushes me aside, all business now. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was stabbed,” he rasps. “Oh wait, that is what happened.”

“Nice to see your sense of humor survived,” Calli says. “Do you need anything?”

“Water?”

“I’ll get it,” I say, jumping up.

“No, you stay. Maybe he can tell you where else it hurts and you can kiss it and make it better.” Calli laughs as she moves away to fetch the water.

I hold Bear’s hand in both of mine while she helps him take a few sips. His skin is like tree bark, rough and dry from dehydration, but his grip is strong and steady.

“How are you?” he asks.

I smile. “Better than you.”

“That’s not saying much. Why are we still in the caves? What happened with the Lofties?”

I fill him in on what he’s missed, smoothing his palm with my fingers as I speak. He’s quiet as I list the dead.

“I’m sorry about Aloe," he says.

"I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“That she died. That you’re hurt. I feel responsible.” I wonder if I look as lifeless as my voice sounds.

“It’s not your fault. Aloe made the choices she had to make. And Moray and I had unfinished business. I guess we still do.” I can feel him studying my face. “Anyway, that’s not why you’re sorry.”

I swallow hard. “Why am I sorry, then?”

“You’re sorry because you’re going to hurt me.”

Unexpected tears leak out of the corners of my eyes. “What do you mean?” I know what he means, but I’m not ready to say it out loud.

“You’re going to tell me you don’t want to partner with me,” he says evenly.

I shake my head. I’m not sure what I’m denying.

“Fenn, when a boy wakes up after a life-threatening injury, and the girl he gave a bonding band to isn’t wearing it . . . it’s not that hard to figure out.”

I pull the band out of my pocket. “I have it here.”

“Great, maybe I’ll see how Marj feels about wearing it,” he jokes. “I’d ask Calli, but it sounds like Cricket might still have a chance.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeat. I don’t know what else to say, so I kiss his knuckles instead.

He exhales. There’s suffering in the sound that belies his lighthearted words. “I guess I already knew.”

“How?”

“From your Lofty’s face when you stepped out of those trees. And from your face when you heard what that bird necklace meant.” He pauses. “Although, it doesn’t look like you’re wearing it either.”

I slide it out of my other pocket.

He snorts. “Keeping your options open?”

“I’m not sure where Peree and I stand now . . . I don’t even know if he survived the Reckoning . . .” My face crumbles.

“I’m kidding, Fenn.” He squeezes my hand.

“I told the truth when you asked if I’d have danced with you at the Solstice. I probably would have. But I didn’t know then that I’d feel this way now.” I hang my head. “I hate what you must think of me.”

“Fennel, I’ve known you all my life, you’re one of my best friends. I only think the best of you, period.”

“See, when you say that, that’s when I think I’m making a mistake,” I say.

“You are making a mistake,” he says seriously. “Then again, maybe it’s for the best. You really are a terrible cook, and you can’t sew worth a damn either. Our kids would be in rags.”

My smile wobbles. “You’re pretty wonderful, Bear.”

“That’s what they all tell me.”

“All right, Fenn,” Calli says as she walks up, “kiss him and be gone so I can check his wound.”

“Yes, Fennel,” Bear says, “lean way down here and kiss me. Show Calli what it’ll be like with Cricket.” I laugh my first real laugh since the Reckoning and kiss him on his stubbly cheek.

“Don’t stay away,” he warns me.

“Stay away? She’s been here practically every minute,” Calli says. “You two are intended—where else would she be?”

“You really need to try confiding in your friends,” Bear says to me.

“About what?” Calli asks.

I hug them each in turn. “Later, I promise.”



I wander around the main cavern—it’s practically empty now—trying to work up the courage to go outside. I know I should face whatever I’ll find in the forest. But every time I think of getting confirmation that Peree's dead, I feel sick.

The stench finally drives me to the mouth of the cave, seeking semi-fresh air. I remember the days, not long ago, when every step toward the Scourge was torture. I keep telling myself it’s the poison we need to eradicate, not the sick ones. It’s working . . . sort of.

Voices approach—Fox and Pinion. They must be coming from the meeting with the Lofties. Maybe they’ll know something about Peree. I try to slow my anxious breathing.

“How did it go?” I ask.

“As well as could be expected,” Fox says. “They’re bitter, we’re bitter. It’ll take time.”

“Who did you talk with?”

Pinion answers. “Two women, Breeze and Blaze, and a few of the men. I thought they carried themselves well, especially considering one of the women lost a son in the Reckoning.”

I reach back to steady myself against the ice-cold wall. He can't be dead. He can't be. Grief twists my gut. I run out of the caves. The late-afternoon sun hangs heavy on my shoulders as I stumble through the clearing. Groundlings speak to me, but I ignore them.

I end up on the path to the water hole. Birds sing around me as if nothing is wrong. I find the sled, and crumple against it. But the sled reminds me of Peree, and thinking about him feels like being stabbed.

Two voices move down the walkway above, one male, one female. At first I think I’m imagining them. That I want to hear his voice so bad I’m conjuring it. But then I hear it again.

“Peree!” I yell. Silence. Did he not hear me?

“Fennel." He doesn’t sound right at all. There’s no trace of the warmth and humor I’ve grown to love. The knots that were loosening inside me suddenly cinch up again.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine. You?”

“Not really.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He sounds distant and completely uninterested, as if he’s talking to a stranger. Or worse, to a Groundling.

“I thought you were dead." I can't keep the quiver out of my voice.

“Not quite yet.”

“Can we talk for a minute? Alone?” He's quiet for so long I’m not sure he’s going to answer. “Peree?”

I hear him speak to his companion in a low voice, then one set of footsteps follows the walkway back toward the clearing.

“I’ll meet you at the platform by the water hole,” he says to me.

What's wrong with him? I chew on my nails as I walk, but I stop quickly. They’re filthy. Water breaks on the shore of the water hole, and a few geese honk. It sounds deserted, but it probably won’t be for long. Peree steps onto the platform above my head.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks.

“Can you come down here?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Then I’ll come up, if it makes you more comfortable,” I offer.

“Always the brave one,” he mutters. I frown, hurt by his tone. “I’ll come down.”

I can’t stop fidgeting as I listen to him release the rope ladder and climb down. Why is he acting so strange? What does it mean? Is it because of the Reckoning? Does he no longer feel the same about me?

“Peree, what’s wrong?” I ask, the moment I hear his feet touch the ground. He grunts in pain, and I wonder if his leg is any better.

He ignores my question. “Why did you think I was dead?”

I tell him what Pinion said.

“They were talking about my grandmother, Breeze. Shrike’s mother. You heard Kadee yelling for me to come to him when she saw he was hit.”

It takes me a moment to realize what that means. “Then . . . Shrike is dead? Oh, Peree, I’m so sorry.” I reach out to him, but find only empty space. I drop my hands to my sides. “Aloe, too,” I say. Shrike might not have been my father, not really, not in the ways that count. But I can’t help feeling like I lost two parents in the Reckoning.

“I heard. I’m sorry.” His voice is a little kinder, and it gives me courage.

“I thought–”

What did I think? That we’d run off into the sunset together? That our little fairytale could have a happy ending, like one of Kadee’s stories? He’s a Lofty. I’m a Groundling. I knew all along we had no future together. The Reckoning just proved it. And now Peree's obviously changed his mind.

“Forget it,” I say. “I only wanted to know if you were all right.” He doesn’t respond, so I turn back toward the path.

“Took you long enough."

I whirl around to him, allowing anger to cover my anguish. “Were you listening? I thought you were dead! And in case the bandage on my head isn’t obvious enough for you, I was hurt! You could’ve come to check on me, too, you know.”

“I went in the caves once to find you, and my father was killed as a result.”

Is that it? He blames me for Shrike’s death? Guilt washes over me again. “I lost people, too.”

“How’s your . . .” He doesn’t finish.

“My what?”

“Your intended. I heard he was injured, and you haven’t left his side.” Bitterness oozes from his words.

“My intended? You mean Bear?”

“What, is there someone else, too? He put that thing on your arm that meant you were partnered, didn’t he?”

I throw up my hands. “And you gave me the bird without telling me what it meant! I feel like a piece of land people keep trying to claim by sticking stuff on me! Why doesn’t anyone bother to ask me before they decide I’m partnering with them?”

His breath quickens. A cautious note slips into his voice, nudging out the resentment. “What are you saying? You aren’t partnering with him?”

I take a deep breath to calm the raging storm of emotion inside me. Peree’s alive, and he doesn’t hate me. He’s only acting like a boar’s back end because he’s jealous. I can deal with that. I hold my arms out and twirl around slowly.

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he thinks I’ve lost my mind.

“You told me in Koolkuna that I had ties here, and you were right. But look, not anymore. I’m . . . untied. And no, I’m not partnering with Bear.”

He almost knocks me over when he grabs me. “I was going crazy the past few days, Fenn. First Shrike . . . then I didn’t know what happened to you . . . then I heard you were alive, but you were staying with Bear–”

I touch my lips to his, quieting him. Then I sketch the curve of his eyebrows and the length of his coarse sideburns. His lips curve under my thumbs. He takes my hands, still cold from the caves, in his, warming them.

“So . . . are you still looking for an ending to that story about the boy and the girl?" I ask. "I think I have one you’ll like.”

“Do you?” Peree murmurs. “What is it?”

“The girl loves the boy, too. She loves him, and she stays with him.”

“I don’t know . . . that wasn’t exactly what I was looking for,” he says, and I laugh. “Okay, twist my arm. It’s good.”

“You’re the only one I want to be with, wild boy. If you’ll still have me.”

His kiss answers my question, and a few more I would’ve been embarrassed to ask out loud. I snake my arms around him and rest my cheek on his chest. His heart is beating at a satisfyingly breakneck speed.

“Peree?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know if Kadee told you, but we’re kind of . . . related.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Does it bother you?” I ask.

“It would if it were true. It would bother me a lot that I feel this . . . bothered, about my sister.” He nuzzles my neck. “But it’s not like we’re natural siblings. Does it matter to you?”

I smile. “Somehow I feel like it should, but no, not really.”

A group of children run past. Most of them head straight into the water like a flock of gabbling geese, but a few slow down and whisper to each other when they see us.

“I should go back up,” Peree says, “before the full-grown ones come along.”

I squeeze him tighter against me. “No, I invited you down, and you’re staying until you’re ready to go.” What did the Reckoning accomplish, if we don’t take this chance to change some of the rules?

“Always the brave one,” he says again, his voice warm this time. “But I have to warn you, I may never be ready to go.”

“That works for me.”

“Hey, Kadee wants me—us, now—to speak at the next Confluence, to tell everyone more about the Scourge, and present Nerang’s offer.”

“Confluence?”

“That’s what they’re calling the meeting today.”

“I like it,” I say.

“It’s a start. So . . . do you still have my bird? There’s something I need to ask you.”

I retrieve it from my pocket and hand it to him. He offers it back with a very sweet, very formal request for me to partner with him. I accept, and we create our own version of a Confluence, with a not-so-formal meeting of mouths and arms and bodies.

I tug on Peree’s hand, pulling him to the water. Soon we’re laughing and splashing alongside the children. I help him up from a half-decent float and he gathers me into his arms.

“This is like my dream, the one I had in the caves about us swimming together. Only now I get to show you what else we were doing.” He kisses me thoroughly, prompting an outburst of giggles from the children. I wonder if anyone else can see us. I don’t care. Let them think what they want.

Happiness pours over me . . . in sharp contrast to the ache in my heart caused by Aloe’s absence. I wish she and Shrike were here to share our joy. I don’t know if they would have, but I like to think so. Eland told me Aloe never lost hope that I would come home. He said she never doubted me, or my loyalty. I don’t know if that’s the truth, or if he’s telling me what I desperately want to hear.

I’ll miss Aloe’s voice, her strength, the comforting warmth of her rosemary-scented skin. She was the only one who really understood the challenges of being Sightless. The only person in the world who knew about my secret scars, the ones I keep hidden away inside. She kept hers hidden, too. I wish I had the chance to ask her all the questions I’d been saving up since I became the Water Bearer. I wish I could have told her what she meant to me.

It occurs to me that collecting the water may not be my responsibility for much longer. What will I be now, if not the Water Bearer? What can I contribute as my people try to shape a new relationship with the Lofties, and maybe with the anuna? For the first time I face a future that hasn’t been predetermined for me. I get to choose. It’s thrilling, and scary.

I hope what we gained the past few weeks will outweigh all we lost. As I hold the one I love—a Lofty, no less—I have to believe it does. But maybe it’s not a question that can ever really be answered. Maybe we just have to cling to the faith that because of us, and through us, hope will live on.