Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 15

I followed him down a familiar hunting path. It wasn't an actual trail, so it was unlikely we would encounter anyone. It felt strange following him without my gathering basket, and him without his bow.

"The new Krat chieftain is gifted," Remi began.

"Like us?" My mouth hung open. This couldn't be possible. Plainsmen either openly hated the Gifted or secretly didn't trust us, and they would certainly never make one of us a chieftain.

"No, not like us," he said grimly. "He's a murderer. His gift is death."

"Death?"

"You give life," he explained. "He takes it, with his very touch. It energizes him."

The exact opposite of me. "Were they the ones who attacked the Zurbo compound?"

"Yes."

I stopped walking. "What does this mean? Is he exterminating the non-gifted?"

He turned around, his expression somber. "No. He's hunting us."

I felt the prickle of panic in the pit of my stomach. "What do you mean, us?"

"He's hunting the Gifted."

"But . . . why? He's gifted! That makes no sense!"

"He wants to be the only one with power. He thinks the Gifted are a threat to him." Remi snapped a leaf off a bush and shook his head. "He's insane."

I began feeling light-headed as the blood drained from my face. We were being hunted. "So the attack on the Zurbos . . ."

He nodded. "Word had spread that the Zurbos had Gifted within their ranks, helping them win battles."

He was talking about Stobon, the sharpshooter. He was talking about me. My heart sank into my shoes as the realization struck me. All those women and children died because they were trying to kill me. I stumbled backward into a tree and leaned against it. I had trouble breathing. First my mother, now this.

"Siena"—Remi came closer, gripping my arms—"this isn't your fault. None of it is."

I couldn't look him in the eye. What he said sounded right, but a tear slid down my cheek anyway.

"Siena, no. I'll make it right. We'll find a solution."

"How?" I snapped. "Foresthome is in danger now because I escaped a madman and came here."

"They don't know about Foresthome," he said, trying to placate me by rubbing my arms.

"Maybe not yet! But there are stories. If I've heard them, you can be sure he has too." My panic rose, and I wrenched my arms out of his grasp.

"Siena wait!"

But I was already running. I instinctively headed toward the place that soothed my tormented soul. When I broke into the clearing I slowed to a walk and took several deep breaths. The air was different by the lake. There was an earthiness from algae and decaying logs. I inhaled it and tried to calm myself. To his credit, Remi did not follow, giving me time to sort my feelings.

I came upon a log with little Sember perched on it, face forlorn and looking out to the water. She glanced at me but said nothing, so I sat down next to her and sighed heavily. She saw the pain in my pinched brow and taut face. Understood it, for it was reflected on her own face. She leaned her head against my arm, and I scooted closer to put an arm around her shoulders. We were nine years apart, but at this very moment, we were the same.

***

I sat on the outer edges of the gathering, numb and heavy, like a boulder weighed on my chest. Remi was in the center of the circle, explaining what he had discovered about the Kratt and Borga, the madman leading them. He told them about their role in the Zurbo slaughter, and Borga's thirst for Gifted blood.

The Forestfolk began murmuring in worried tones. I wondered how wise it was to tell them this. They might start abandoning Foresthome in a panic.

"I have a solution!" Remi shouted over the crowd's chatter, and the resulting silence was palpable. "We don't wait around for Borga to find us. We go after him."

Various snorts and skeptical guffaws ensued. "We're not assassins, or even fighters!" someone shouted.

"I don't mean 'we' as in all of us. I mean 'we' as in me. I'm going to go back there, and I'm going to kill him." Remi's shoulders were squared, chin lifted, eyes steely and bold.

As the meaning of his words sank in, anger replaced the numbness I felt. How could he come up with such a ridiculous plan to get himself killed? Go after Borga by himself? Was he insane? I willed him to look at me, but he avoided me altogether.

The crowd buzzed again. Some agreed it seemed to be the only way. Others expressed doubts that a boy could handle such an enormous job.

"He won't be going alone." Galen stepped into the center and quieted the crowd. "I'll keep him safe, and I'll do everything in my power to keep Foresthome safe. If you're thinking of leaving, reconsider. Right now, this is the safest place to be. I'll make sure that continues to be true."

There were some questions and answers exchanged, but I didn't hear them. My own thoughts were swirling madly in my head. I couldn't sit idly by while someone else fought my battle. I was done being the victim. Dilla was right. The only way to control my own life was to prevent others from controlling it for me. My fists clenched with resolve. Whether they wanted me or not, I was going with them.

***

"Absolutely not." Remi ran a hand through his disheveled hair as he paced inside Galen's cabin. "Galen, tell her."

The tall man sighed, obviously uncomfortable. "It will be dangerous."

"Which is exactly why I'm going. I can keep you safe."

Galen's cabin was a little larger than mine, with a bigger bed and more chairs around the table.

"How?" Remi retorted. "With that little pointed stick you keep around? You can't protect us."

His words stung, but he wasn't going to change my mind. I kept calm and put as much iron resolve into my voice as I could. "I can keep you away from death."

My words hung in the air like heavy storm clouds. He couldn't refute them. I was valuable. I've known this most of my life. I was reviled, yes. But whether people liked me or not, I was an asset, and I wasn't about to let anyone, least of all Remi, reduce me to a weak damsel who needed saving.

I stared hard at Remi, daring him to prove me wrong. The air was so thick with tension that it nearly choked me.

"Fine," Galen relented. "You can go."

"What?" Remi broke away from our staring contest and turned his disbelieving eyes to Galen. "No! It's too dangerous! Our task is that much harder if we have to protect her as well."

"I'm not useless," I said through gritted teeth.

Galen threw his hands up in frustration. "Look, I personally wouldn't mind having a healer keeping me away from death's doorstep. If you have personal issues, I suggest you work them out." With that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of his own cabin.

I turned back to Remi, his mouth agape as he stared at Galen's retreating back. When he faced me again, his mouth closed into a thin line. His posture seemed a little less rigid as he searched my face.

"Tell me you'll change your mind," he said, all antagonism gone.

"I can't," I said, my own voice softening. "If I stay here I'll go crazy. I have to do something."

He wavered a little, but still looked undecided.

"Remi, you don't know how much guilt I live with. If I sit idly by, if I do nothing, and something happens, either to you or to Foresthome, how would I feel then? How could I live with myself?" I took his hand, trying to make my point. "I have a chance to do something for a change. So I'm going to take it."

He looked down at my hand holding his and took in a long, slow breath. When he looked back into my eyes, I saw comprehension and defeat there. He closed his hand around mine and simply said, "Okay."

I think that fine display of resolve deserves a vote. :)