The Offering
Page 27
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Here,” she said, ignoring the stink of his unwashed skin and the smell of human waste and rotting flesh that emanated from him as she twisted the cap from the water-filled flask that hung from her waist. She held the flask to his lips and let the water trickle into his mouth. She was careful not to choke him, since he barely seemed able to swallow. “We’ll try again later,” she finally told him, when she realized most of it was dribbling down his chin.
“Wh . . . ,” he tried, but the pathetic attempt to question her died on his cracked lips as if the effort were too much.
Why had she come? What did she want? Why him? It could’ve been any or all of those questions, and she half-wondered herself what the answers were. If her sister discovered what she’d done . . .
Well, she would discover it eventually, all right. The trick was not getting caught for it.
“I need you to get up,” she told him. “Just long enough so I can get you out of here. There’s a vehicle waiting for us. We’ll be safe until we reach the border, and then we’ll have to travel through forests. You’ll have to ride on horseback then.” She didn’t know why she was explaining all of this to him; she doubted he understood. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
She slipped his arm around her shoulder, again trying to shut out the stench coming off him, but failing miserably. He cringed against the movement but didn’t resist her. Despite the pain he was in, and his weak physical state, she was surprised to see that he actually managed to help haul himself from the ground. He wobbled, and leaned heavily against her, but he allowed her to lead him toward the cell door. “It’ll be okay,” she assured him in a voice so quiet, it was almost nonexistent. She didn’t want to risk being discovered.
They slipped through the passageways more noisily than she had on her way in, but because she’d timed it so perfectly, they managed to go unnoticed. As they emerged, with the vehicle still there, waiting for her, she let out a breath of gratitude.
She eased him inside and watched the way he clutched his arm, keeping it close to his chest. His skin was greasy and pale, and she noted the way the bandages surrounding his hand were saturated with a mixture of blood and pus. She wondered what kind of infection she’d find when she uncovered them. She wondered too if she’d have to take the entire arm.
With the last of his strength, he lifted his head. “Why . . . are . . . you . . . doing . . . this?” he rasped, right before he passed out again.
Because you’re being used, she answered silently as she slammed the door, checking once more to make sure no one had spotted them, before she climbed into the front. And if I don’t get you out of here now, I run the risk that Niko will make good on his promise to keep my sister alive forever.
VII
Eden pulled us out of bed while it was still dark outside, but I knew it was close to dawn when we crept from the bunkhouse onto grass that was damp the way it was in the early morning hours just before daybreak. As we followed her, staying quiet and keeping close, I briefly wondered if she’d even managed to doze, since she didn’t appear to have changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing the night before, and she didn’t look nearly as rumpled as I felt after sleeping in mine.
Brook grumbled about the hour, about needing more sleep, about the cold, and about wanting food. What she got instead was coffee when we arrived at yet another cabin. It was a poor substitute for all that she wanted, but was a substitute nonetheless.
I curled my fingers around the warm mug and sniffed the bitter contents as I sat down across from Eden and her brother, still marveling at the resemblance between the two of them. It was stronger now that Caspar, like all the children he was in charge of, had rinsed the muddied grime from his face. His strong brow and sharp jawline and black eyes were so similar to hers that if they’d been closer in age, I might have mistaken the two of them for twins. It was his size that gave him away as younger, but it was his hair that truly set him apart from his sister. It was a fiery shade of orange-red. A sharp contrast to Eden’s natural crow-black hair.
I lifted the coffee in front of me, which smelled nothing like the savory blends we’d become accustomed to at the palace, and I realized how spoiled I’d grown over the past months. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dared turn my nose up at such an indulgence, despite the fact that I wasn’t a coffee drinker by nature. A hot drink was a hot drink, and hospitality— no matter its manifestation—was always hospitality.
“Thank you,” I told Caspar, keeping my face as straight as I could while I sipped the pungent beverage. It didn’t matter how it tasted, though. It went down hot and thawed my belly.
Eden didn’t have to pretend, nor did Brook, both of whom swigged the scalding liquid as if it were the sweetest elixir they’d ever tasted. Clearly they’d been accustomed to worse.
“So what’s the plan? How long are we staying here?” Brook asked. She shoved her empty mug toward our host, her way of requesting a refill, but she looked to Eden as she spoke, not Caspar. “I’m thinking we need to move on by daybreak or we’re begging for trouble. These kids are all alone here now, but they won’t be for long. Eventually someone’ll come to check on ’em, and we can’t be here when they do.” Caspar filled her mug and passed it back to her. She offered him a quick nod of appreciation in return.
He, like so many before him, grinned back at her, not invulnerable to Brook’s smoldering looks, even when her hair was matted from a night of restless sleep. She barely seemed aware he was watching her with such eager intensity.
“Wh . . . ,” he tried, but the pathetic attempt to question her died on his cracked lips as if the effort were too much.
Why had she come? What did she want? Why him? It could’ve been any or all of those questions, and she half-wondered herself what the answers were. If her sister discovered what she’d done . . .
Well, she would discover it eventually, all right. The trick was not getting caught for it.
“I need you to get up,” she told him. “Just long enough so I can get you out of here. There’s a vehicle waiting for us. We’ll be safe until we reach the border, and then we’ll have to travel through forests. You’ll have to ride on horseback then.” She didn’t know why she was explaining all of this to him; she doubted he understood. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
She slipped his arm around her shoulder, again trying to shut out the stench coming off him, but failing miserably. He cringed against the movement but didn’t resist her. Despite the pain he was in, and his weak physical state, she was surprised to see that he actually managed to help haul himself from the ground. He wobbled, and leaned heavily against her, but he allowed her to lead him toward the cell door. “It’ll be okay,” she assured him in a voice so quiet, it was almost nonexistent. She didn’t want to risk being discovered.
They slipped through the passageways more noisily than she had on her way in, but because she’d timed it so perfectly, they managed to go unnoticed. As they emerged, with the vehicle still there, waiting for her, she let out a breath of gratitude.
She eased him inside and watched the way he clutched his arm, keeping it close to his chest. His skin was greasy and pale, and she noted the way the bandages surrounding his hand were saturated with a mixture of blood and pus. She wondered what kind of infection she’d find when she uncovered them. She wondered too if she’d have to take the entire arm.
With the last of his strength, he lifted his head. “Why . . . are . . . you . . . doing . . . this?” he rasped, right before he passed out again.
Because you’re being used, she answered silently as she slammed the door, checking once more to make sure no one had spotted them, before she climbed into the front. And if I don’t get you out of here now, I run the risk that Niko will make good on his promise to keep my sister alive forever.
VII
Eden pulled us out of bed while it was still dark outside, but I knew it was close to dawn when we crept from the bunkhouse onto grass that was damp the way it was in the early morning hours just before daybreak. As we followed her, staying quiet and keeping close, I briefly wondered if she’d even managed to doze, since she didn’t appear to have changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing the night before, and she didn’t look nearly as rumpled as I felt after sleeping in mine.
Brook grumbled about the hour, about needing more sleep, about the cold, and about wanting food. What she got instead was coffee when we arrived at yet another cabin. It was a poor substitute for all that she wanted, but was a substitute nonetheless.
I curled my fingers around the warm mug and sniffed the bitter contents as I sat down across from Eden and her brother, still marveling at the resemblance between the two of them. It was stronger now that Caspar, like all the children he was in charge of, had rinsed the muddied grime from his face. His strong brow and sharp jawline and black eyes were so similar to hers that if they’d been closer in age, I might have mistaken the two of them for twins. It was his size that gave him away as younger, but it was his hair that truly set him apart from his sister. It was a fiery shade of orange-red. A sharp contrast to Eden’s natural crow-black hair.
I lifted the coffee in front of me, which smelled nothing like the savory blends we’d become accustomed to at the palace, and I realized how spoiled I’d grown over the past months. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dared turn my nose up at such an indulgence, despite the fact that I wasn’t a coffee drinker by nature. A hot drink was a hot drink, and hospitality— no matter its manifestation—was always hospitality.
“Thank you,” I told Caspar, keeping my face as straight as I could while I sipped the pungent beverage. It didn’t matter how it tasted, though. It went down hot and thawed my belly.
Eden didn’t have to pretend, nor did Brook, both of whom swigged the scalding liquid as if it were the sweetest elixir they’d ever tasted. Clearly they’d been accustomed to worse.
“So what’s the plan? How long are we staying here?” Brook asked. She shoved her empty mug toward our host, her way of requesting a refill, but she looked to Eden as she spoke, not Caspar. “I’m thinking we need to move on by daybreak or we’re begging for trouble. These kids are all alone here now, but they won’t be for long. Eventually someone’ll come to check on ’em, and we can’t be here when they do.” Caspar filled her mug and passed it back to her. She offered him a quick nod of appreciation in return.
He, like so many before him, grinned back at her, not invulnerable to Brook’s smoldering looks, even when her hair was matted from a night of restless sleep. She barely seemed aware he was watching her with such eager intensity.