Remi sat on the bench next to the doctor. She touched his arm. “Talk to us.”
Dr. Robinson lifted his head. His gaze was haunted. “I haven’t seen her in almost two months. She left to do her tithe and never came back. So many of them don’t anymore.”
“What are these ‘tithes’?” Greer asked.
“Each young adult, when he or she or their family decide that it’s time for them to go out on their own, renders a service to the community. The young who have a skill important to the community are exempted from tithing. As an apprentice to the doctor, I was exempted, so I don’t know much about them. The tasks are secret, never to be spoken of.”
He looked up at Greer. “Sally was her tithing name. Her real name was Rebecca Morris.” His shoulders hunched, and he looked at his hands clasped between his knees.
“Most young women get married after their tithes,” he continued. “If they return. Many are returning already married to WKB warriors. We’re a pacifist community. These warriors are like infants.” He waved his hand around. “They know nothing of life, nothing of our ways in the community. They have to be taught everything—building a fire, hunting, butchering, farming, home construction, our ceremonies. Everything.
“Rebecca and I were in love. But she’d been promised to the woodcutter. She hated him. I went to the council. I told them if they didn’t overturn that decision, I would leave—with Rebecca. It’s my fault she hasn’t come back.”
Greer realized the young woman he’d run after couldn’t have been Sally. If she’d come back, he wouldn’t now be talking to the doctor about her absence. “Have you talked to her parents? Do they know anything?”
“Rebecca was an orphan. She was raised by the village. And no, no one knows her whereabouts.”
“Why does everyone avoid the topic of tithes?” Greer asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “Tradition. We are never to discuss them. We aren’t to ask about how they went or what service they provided or what happened while they were away. Once a tithe is finished, the young person is treated as an adult, allowed to go to council meetings, allowed to marry, allowed to have children.”
He was silent a moment. “I’ve watched these tithes change over the past twenty years. At first, while I was happy being the doctor’s apprentice, I resented the fact that I didn’t get my own tithe. When I was a kid, those who completed their tithes came back different. Wiser. More adult. Now they’re coming back changed, but for the worse. Fearful. Broken temperaments. I don’t know. I don’t think the tithes are good things anymore.”
Greer reached out to the doctor, resting a hand on his shoulder. “All right. Thanks. I’ll get word to you when I find her.”
Dr. Robinson stood and held out his hand. “I am in your debt.”
“No. I’ve been worried about her since we met. I knew something wasn’t right.”
Greer took hold of Remi’s hand again as they headed back toward the village. The shadows were long. Night was close.
Greer looked down at Remi. “Am I pugnacious?”
Remi smiled. “You do puff up at times. Like when danger is near. Or you want sex.”
He grinned. “So, all the time.”
“No. Sometimes you’re serious and introspective.”
“And shrunken.”
Remi laughed. “Is everything about size?”
He stopped and caught her up against him. “Does anything else matter?” He was about to kiss her when he noticed the woodcutter was placing chopped wood in the stand out front of their cabin.
Remi saw him, too. Greer felt her stiffen in his arms. “I want you to go inside and wait for me.” Thankfully, she didn’t argue as they neared the cabin.
They nodded to the woodcutter as they stepped up to the cabin. “I’ll be in in a minute,” Greer told her as he shut the door behind her.
“Need a hand?” he asked, grabbing a few split logs and setting them on the small stack.
“Sure.”
“Thanks for the wood.”
“Yep. I knew her.” He flashed a look at Greer, followed by a quick one over his shoulder. “Sally. I knew her.”
“How did you know her?”
“She was promised to me. We were gonna marry after her tithe.” He carried over another log.
“Her tithe?” Greer asked, hoping ignorance would lead him to say more about this mysterious service the teenagers rendered.
“We can’t talk here. Meet me in the woods by your vehicle at two hours after midnight.”
Greer nodded. “Will do.”
Chapter Seventeen
Remi was standing in the middle of the room when Greer came into the cabin. “What did he say?”
He took hold of her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “He wants to meet with us in the middle of the night. Nothing good happens at meetings like that. I think you should stay here.”
“Dr. Robinson said the woodcutter was from the WKB. Do you believe him?”
“I do. There’s nothing about him physically that would point to the gang, but it’s in his eyes, his voice. He knows something about Sally. I can’t not go.”
“What if it’s a trick to separate us?”
Her hands were on his waist. She was looking up at him as if she believed in him, as if she knew he’d keep her safe. Made him feel ten feet tall. And he did puff up a little.
“All right. You’re coming with me. I’m going to call the meetup in to the team.”
He dialed Max, glad that the infrastructure Owen had had beefed up around the WKB compound reached the Friendship Community.
“S’up, bro?” Max answered.
“Just FYI. I’m meeting up with a former WKBer who’s now a Friend here in the community. Said he knows Sally. Might have some info about the tithes, which no one else here will talk about in much detail. He wants to meet at two a.m.”
“Copy that. I’ll let Kit know. Where’s the meet?”
“Near the entrance gate for the community. There’s a small parking lot there.”
“Okay. I’ll send some of the guys your way, just in case.”
“Don’t need backup, Max. It’s just one guy.”
“Too bad. The guys here are bored and driving me crazy.”