AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Has the future been hidden because of horrors before?”
I blinked. Good question. “No.”
“Then it’s not that.”
My mother poked her head into the tent flap, and then the rest of her followed. She held three plates, so I guessed Papa wasn’t back yet. “It’s done.” She wiped water off her forehead and then rid herself of her coat. “I think the meat turned out well, considering the rain.”
Jayne and I scooted forward to sit in the center of the tent with her. We got a big tent for travel, but it didn’t have the comforts of some of the others I saw camped nearby. That was pretty standard for our city-state, though. Big but not that comfortable could be our motto.
She smiled at us as we began to eat her creation. Mama wasn’t much of a cook—truthfully, Jayne and I surpassed her skill in the kitchen years ago—but who wanted to hurt her feelings when she tried so hard?
Dry meat with not enough seasoning, might be hard to chew, but we smiled at her and didn’t say a word. Despite none of her meals being even slightly appetizing, my mother chewed and swallowed with even diligence as I watched, so I shook my head. She had to know, since her teeth and taste buds must function like everyone else’s, but her expression gave away nothing of her thoughts. Surely, she knew how awful it tasted, right?
Mama wasn’t beautiful, if she ever had been. Regardless, something about her made Papa look at her and never want to stop. She tucked a strand of her gray hair behind her ear, and I tried to remember a time when it was blonde, but I couldn’t. Her dark brown eyes met mine, and for a second, I knew that although she might not win any contests for her looks, I never saw a lovelier woman anywhere.
Jayne and I looked like our father’s side of the family. People said we were pretty, and then my mama would say it was so unimportant. She liked to remind us of so many more important things to think about. Work to do. People to help. Gifts to consider. I still liked them thinking me pretty, but I figured anyone would prefer it, if they had a choice.
Long and almost white in color, practically colorless, our hair looked so different from our mother’s, which everyone said used to be honey-blonde, the color of sunshine. My face was oval, more so than Jayne’s, which was longer. We both had bright green eyes, though. Our Papa called us beauties when my mother wasn’t listening. His white-blond hair had never grayed—or hadn’t yet, anyway.
“Should we play a game after dinner?” Mama looked around. “I brought cards.”
Anything to not talk about what will come in two days. She had to know there was a possibility she would leave at least one of us behind, even if she didn’t know how powerful we were or weren’t. Only Jayne knew my secrets, and I was happy to keep it that way.
What was a sister for if not to share unspeakable confidences? Besides, if I told my parents, they might have brought me to the Hawkseye earlier. The all-seeing hawk’s eye. I hated it, and I’d never visited there before.
“Maybe we could talk?” I didn’t know why it felt important, but we might not get another chance. I wanted moments spent in their company, not staring at cards. Besides, I could win with my eyes closed—literally.
That was one of my gifts. I knew what cards were coming.
My parents just thought I was really good at the game.
“Sure.” She smiled too brightly, her tone brittle somehow. “What should we talk about?”
Jayne eyed me. “Right. What would you like to talk about, Sloane?”
“The ritual. Look, I know you can’t talk about it.” It was supposed to be a sacred ritual which no one discussed. I didn’t buy it for a second—some of the other moms probably told their daughters what to expect, but my mama was a rule follower. “But you went through it. What was Hawkseye like? What should we expect to see there?”
She brightened at my question. “Yes, I went right when I turned eighteen. I met your father right afterward, which is very common, actually. A lot of young ladies meet their husbands right after their ritual.”
That was another problem with the whole thing. Warriors married in groups. My father seemed like a lot of work for my mother, so what was I going to do with multiple men to manage? How many could there be?
We knew the story of our parents’ romance, though. How they met made a lovely story, but I’d asked her about Hawkseye, not Dad.
“What can we expect to see?” I set my steak aside. I’d had enough. If I got really starved later, I could get up and make something edible after she went to bed.
I’d done it before. It wasn’t her first failed meal.
She put her hands in my own and squeezed. “Truthfully, we didn’t do any touring. We didn’t have the gold, not like your father has now. We had to stay in the free housing, the places for people who couldn’t afford to be there otherwise. It also meant we had to help serve as a way to compensate for our stay. I didn’t see much of Hawkseye besides the kitchen.”
She cooked for the ritual? Did anyone survive it? I blinked, disbelief keeping me from saying something just a little bit rude. “What did you make, Mama?”
My father stumbled into the tent. The scent of booze wafted off him and made me look away. I hated when he was like that. Papa didn’t drink all the time, but when he did, it was too much. He grabbed on to my mother, who had managed to get to her feet just in time to pretty much catch him—or maybe it was more like drag him?—to his sleeping pad.
“Love you,” he mumbled before he passed out, snoring loudly. Rain still battered the tent, a staccato beat interrupted by his rhythmic wheezes. I sighed, realizing the rain meant no escape from the noise.
They wanted me to have multiple husbands? How would I cope at all? And why had Papa gotten drunk again? Monsters lurked outside, and he was supposed to protect us. No one taught women how to fight; in fact, the Judge forbade it. If something came for us while he snored, we would all be dead, and then it wouldn’t matter if I knew what to expect at Hawkseye or not.
Jayne met my gaze and put her head back on my shoulder.
