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“Are those the only tribes there are?” I asked, committing to memory the five she’d mentioned.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “No. There are eight tribes. But you’re clearly not a Kovak, Brambleman, or Annundu Wolf, are you?” She paused, like this should have been obvious. “Skies, you reallycan’tremember anything, can you?”
In truth, Icouldremember certain things. I remembered the tingling feeling of magic that once coursed through my veins. Iremembered the smell of the ocean at dawn. I knew the name of every tree just by the shape of its leaves. I knew the patterns of constellations that rose and set in the night sky. And I remembered the taste of better food than the slop they served us here. Yet, it was as if all the people and places in my memory had been plucked out, leaving only a barren landscape behind.
Hen nodded toward the tattoo of four black feathers on my inner forearm. “With a mark like that, I’d wager you’re probably an Arden.”
We both fell silent as the guard returned, gripping his whip as he surveyed our progress.
I only spoke again when he marched away to hover over another group of workers. “Why doesn’t this mineral affect the Rathalans?” I asked, breathing hard. Even though it was cold this deep in the earth, I was sweating from the work, and the muscles in my back ached. Whoever I was before I arrived here, I clearly hadn’t spent twenty hours a day doing manual labor.
Hen dumped a load of gravel into the cart before responding. “The Rathalans?” she scoffed, keeping one eye on the guard. “They don’t have a speck of magic in their bones.”
I stared at her, unsure how this answered my question.
She must have seen the crease form between my eyebrows because she continued, “My mother once said that magic’s like an invisible string, with your soul tied on one end and yourkanatied on the other. Every tribe has a unique kana or ‘other half’ that they’re bound to. For the Terrans, magic binds them to the earth elements. Ardens are bound to plant life. Jakeens to eron metal. Kovaks to the wild bears. And so on.
“The malarite we’re mining temporarily severs our connection to our kanas when we touch it—like someone cutting the string—which erases our magic and powers.” Her shovel scraped against the gravel, more forcefully this time, and she coughed from the billowing rock dust. “The Rathalans don’thave a soul for the magic to bind to, so the mineral doesn’t affect them. Look at them. They’re hollow. Empty inside.Cruel.”
I shivered at the thought of them being soulless.
“What tribe are you from?” I asked, eyeing the rune-like tattoos that trailed across her collarbone.
Pain flashed behind her eyes, and she turned away. “It doesn’t matter anymore. With this blazen collar on, I’m nothing. No magic. No tribe. No hope. Guess you better get used to it.”
The Kovak bear’sresounding growl jarred me away from my memories of Hen and back to the present moment. Even in chains, the bear was thrashing around and tipping over minecarts. Unable to connect with her companion, the Kovak girl now looked helpless as the guards whipped the beast. The fact the Rathalans hadn’t killed the bear yet meant they had some important use for it, like powering the rock-crushing machinery or hauling loads of mineral to the weapons forge.
There was so much commotion that even Hen had stopped working. We were both staring at the scene, jaws slack.
“What do we have here?” A hot, breathy voice crept over our shoulders.
Oh, no.
A cold shiver crawled down my spine when I turned and found myself face-to-face with the guard I’d secretly namedMeat—because he reminded me of a thick slab of rotten flesh.
Meat gripped Hen’s arm and spun her around. “Is there something more interesting to you than meeting our mineral quota for the day?” he sneered.
Hen was silent.
“Is there?” He jerked Hen’s arm as he spoke, making her gasp.
“No,” she said, eyes cast down.
“Are you sure? Because I’m happy to offer you a much better view from the platform,malack.”
I’d learned early on that this was their derogatory term for tribespeople.
When Hen didn’t answer, Meat wrapped his thick fingers around her throat above her collar, choking her. Her hands flew to her neck, trying to breathe. “Look at me,” he demanded. When she didn’t move, he squeezed harder. “I said,look at me.”
The dim torchlight lit up her bewitching sea-green eyes as her thick lashes fluttered upward. A vile grin spread across Meat’s ugly face like he’d just been offered something sweet after a savory meal. He licked his lips.
A panic swept through me.We both knew what that look meant. We knew what happened when the female workers got dragged away into dark corners by the guards.
“I think it’s break time for you,” he said as he reached for her collar to attach a chain to it.
“No!” I shouted, shoving Meat as hard as I could. “Get away from her!” I reached for my pickaxe.
“Raven,no,” Hen choked, gasping for breath.
