Enclave (Razorland 1)

“Don’t worry. Please. You were right. You can trust me.”

When I knelt down to touch her shoulder, she fell forward in a pool of blood. Banner wasn’t just upset; she was dead.

Recompense

Nobody cared. The elders sent her body out into the tunnels as a gift for the Freaks. That was all. People talked about the shock, but everyone agreed she must’ve killed herself. A girl in the baths with two slit wrists? What else could it be? They speculated that perhaps she’d snuck around and gotten herself in trouble. Bred without permission, maybe. That kind of offense got you exiled.

Almost anything could get you exiled. As a brat, I hadn’t realized the magnitude; I didn’t dare articulate my thoughts or my fears. The safety of the enclave was starting to feel like a prison. Life went on for all us, and only Fade wore his grief nakedly. He didn’t talk to me anymore outside of patrols, as if I might’ve had something to do with it. And that hurt, more than I wanted to admit.

After the naming ceremony, Twist came looking for me. “Thanks for taking care of the gifts.”

So much had happened I’d almost forgotten I had an ulterior motive for doing that. I’d wanted to find out what they’d done to the Burrowers. I wasn’t sure I did anymore. The knowledge might only prove a burden.

But since I had him here, I figured I’d try. “I’m glad I could help.”

I fell into step with him as he talked, venting about the strain of working for Whitewall. Twist didn’t have any friends that I knew of, so maybe he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Listening cost me nothing.

When he wound down, I said, “I saw the team come back with a lot of stuff. I guess you have to sort and organize it for the Wordkeeper.”

He sighed. “Of course I do. They don’t trust anyone else.”

“How much did we pay for it all?” I tensed.

“A few bags of fish. The way I heard it, those Burrowers are smart and wouldn’t let the Hunters in until they passed the trade goods through a narrow gap in the wall.”

Relief spilled through me. I’d nearly let suspicion poison everything. Just because the elders had made some tough decisions, it didn’t make them brutal or merciless. A weight lifted from my shoulders.

I talked with Twist a bit longer, so he didn’t suspect I’d been after that information all along. Since I liked him—and few people did—I didn’t want him to think I’d only been using him. In the kitchen, we went our separate ways: him to other work and me to patrol.

Fade waited for me beyond the barricades this time, one foot tapping with ill-concealed impatience. As soon as I scrambled over, he spun and led the way into the dark. I thought we needed to talk, but plainly he disagreed. The hours passed with excruciating speed, between the silence and the tension.

At last as we turned back toward the enclave, he spoke. “Do you believe them?”

“Who?”

“The elders. The gossip.”

“About what?” I thought I knew but I wanted him to spell it out.

“Banner. They’re saying she killed herself because…” He trailed off, unable to say it aloud.

He’d been close to her. That made him a likely candidate for the sire of her unborn brat, if the story was true. I didn’t like how that made me feel. I cast back to the day we’d found her, remembering the cuts on her wrists, how the skin looked—

Sickness overwhelmed me.

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t.”

He froze for a long moment and then spun to face me. “Why?”

I could see in his eyes he’d noticed right away. I just hadn’t wanted to think about it until he forced me to remember. “The cuts were wrong.”

If I wanted to die, I’d use one long motion, no stop and start of the blade. The ones we’d found on Banner showed where the knife dragged and paused. Someone had killed her; I didn’t know why. If they’d found her hoard, she should’ve been exiled.

But maybe it ran deeper. Maybe the elders knew something about the silent rebellion. In that case, Banner would’ve been killed as an equally quiet warning. Associate with them and you’ll wind up like this. It was nothing they would want to confront openly because that would mean admitting some citizens mistrusted their leadership. Acknowledging discontent would only breed more. I understood the way they thought.

“They added all of her things to the archives,” he said softly. “And fed her to the Freaks.”

I flinched. “I’m sorry.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“What can we do?”

In answer he turned and headed for the barricades. I feared he might do something stupid, and I couldn’t think how to help him. If I pushed, I’d end up like Banner. And so would he.

A few weeks later, as promised, they rewarded me for my contribution to culture. With Banner’s death hanging over me, I didn’t want the credit, but there was no refusing. They held a feast, and the Wordkeeper sat me beside him in a place of honor.

Once everyone had assembled, he rose. “We’re here to honor Deuce, a Huntress who, despite considerable risk, brought back a bag of artifacts. She did not attempt to keep anything she found for her own personal pleasure. As one should always do, she thought first of the enclave.” The Wordkeeper droned on about the importance of putting the group before self. He also mentioned how I’d been principal in a trade that gave us access to more artifacts than we’d ever seen before.

I felt strange, being lauded for something that had been coincidence. I ducked my head, hoping the enclave wouldn’t hate me for making them listen to the Wordkeeper, but everyone seemed happy to take the day off. When he finished, he threw his hands skyward in a dramatic gesture. “Let the celebration start!”

An answering roar went through the crowd. Pipes and drums echoed through the enclave. The torches smoked; people whirled and stomped while brats ran around underfoot. Roasting meat and mushrooms smelled unbelievably good, and there was fish too. For once, they didn’t limit us and I took seconds of each dish. Brats immediately snatched my plate, running off to lick it and then wash it up so someone else, someone less honored, could use it.

From the sidelines, I watched the party until a Hunter came to get me. Gazing up at him, I realized he’d been patrolling longer than Fade. As a brat, I’d watched this one train and he was smiling at me. What was his name? Silk had introduced me, but that first day, I’d been so nervous, I couldn’t remember more than half of them.

Crane, I remembered belatedly.

“Come on,” he said. “You’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“We’re doing a demonstration.”

A thrill went through me, despite my dark mood. How could I have forgotten? At any feast, the Hunters assembled and sparred as part of the entertainment. Citizens often bet on the outcomes. Rising, I tried to look serious when excitement bubbled inside me.

I glanced at the Wordkeeper, who had been sitting with me, watching the others dance. “May I be excused, sir?”

“Certainly. Fight well, Huntress.”

I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing people call me that. Hurrying, I kept pace with Crane. He led me to the training room, where everyone else stood already waiting. As we slipped in, Silk was handing out the assignments, telling people who they’d face first in the tournament.

The elder Hunter beside me whispered, “It’s by elimination. The winner of each round progresses to the next until only two remain.”

That much I remembered. When Silk paused before me, she said, “Deuce, your first opponent will be Pinwheel.” It was a terrible name, and the girl who owned it scowled at me. She was tall, which meant she had a good reach—better than mine. I could see her assessing me in turn.

“Pin,” the other Huntress muttered, not that Silk cared. She had already moved down the line.

Once she finished, she went and got a box. “The senior Hunter will choose a number that determines the order in which you’ll fight.”

I stood by while Pin picked for us. No question I was low in seniority, even if I’d completed a dangerous mission and brought back some artifacts. She held up the wood chip so I could see it read “5.” Good, other people had to go before us, but not so many I’d have too much time to get nervous.

Pin slipped over beside me. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon.” But her tone was friendly. I wasn’t used to that.

“Make sure you give them a good show,” Silk ordered. “Now move!”

I followed the throng of Hunters into an orderly formation to the side of the training area. The rest of the enclave filtered in, forming a circle around the fighting ring. As a brat, I had pushed my way to the front, kneeling down so nobody complained about me being in the way. I’d watched so many of these tournaments, and now I was finally going to compete. For safety’s sake, we didn’t use weapons.

Random pairings meant no consideration had been given to skill level. I watched as a slim Huntress faced an older Hunter. She fought hard, but his experience dominated. In the next match, two Hunters circled each other, but the elder had the greater reach and better timing. Speed would help the smaller one in time, but at the moment he lacked the experience to parlay it into a win.

So the first two went quickly. The opponents were too unevenly matched for it to be otherwise. Anything else would’ve amounted to fakery, and the Hunters had too much integrity for that. The next two pitted veteran Huntresses and Hunters, and they were so fierce and graceful, they had me bouncing on my toes, cheering and oohing along with everyone else.

Then it was my turn.

Heart pounding, I took my place in the circle, where I faced Pin. She wore a fierce, focused look. At Silk’s signal, we faced each other and bowed.

“Begin!”

We circled. She was wary enough of me to want me to go on the offensive first; I took it as a compliment. Seeing I wouldn’t, Pin spun at me with her big move first. I leaped away from her lashing leg. I faked an off-balance landing, hoping that would bring her rushing in. It didn’t. She grinned at me and shook her head.

Pin blocked both my attempts to punch and countered with a kick aimed at my knee. I wheeled her arm into a lock and flipped her. Ha. Didn’t see that coming, did you? She landed hard on her back, but she pulled until I fell with her, flipping over the top. I turned the fall into a roll and came to my feet with a bruised shoulder. The sounds of the audience hooting and cheering faded as I narrowed my eyes on her movements.

We exchanged a flurry of hits and blocks. My speed came into play then, but when she connected, it rocked me. Her fist felt like ten pounds of solid rock slamming into my stomach. I doubled over, but when she went to finish me, I snagged her ankle and pulled. Immediately, I dropped all my weight on her chest and sank an elbow into her throat. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove my dominance. I held her there until she slapped the floor three times.

I staggered to my feet and Silk threw my hand in the air. I don’t believe it. I won. Proud and happy, I beamed at the audience, despite my new bruises. Afterward, Pin shook my hand and slapped me on the back. I went to stand with the other victors.