Shame burned in Zarrah’s chest that her intent had been so obvious, and she lowered the bird from where it was clutched to her chest. “Apologies.”
Daria snorted. “No need to apologize—there’s not a soul on this island who hasn’t considered doing the same.” Catching hold of Zarrah’s elbow, she tugged her in the direction of the camp. “But to fixed on the grey gulls pecking among the rocks, Zarrah’s arm trembled as shegive in is to allow the bitch on the throne victory over us. She wants us to devolve into beasts with no thought for anything but satisfying our own hunger because it means we are no threat to her. Wants to watch her enemies snapping at one another’s scraps while she feasts.”
You will starve and suffer while he feasts. Her aunt’s words filled her head, and Zarrah shook it sharply to clear it.
“She sent us here to destroy us,” Daria said. “What she doesn’t realize is that we have taken her punishment and turned it into a training ground to become our strongest. When we are freed, we will be her damnation. But only if we keep our focus, only if we hold on to human purpose, and that”—she patted Zarrah on the back—“means plucking and cooking that bird before you eat it.”
Zarrah nodded, the other woman’s words a balm to the pain in her core, and though hunger still lurked, she found her steps calm and steady as they approached the camp. Some of the prisoners were playing handball, a game that had once been so popular in Valcotta that massive stadiums had been built, with great crowds coming to watch the game masters direct the players on the whispering courts. Zarrah had been to matches as a child, though her aunt had detested the game and banned it not
long after her sister, Zarrah’s mother, had been murdered by Silas. People still played and bet on the sly, though, and she smiled to see the rebels defying her law by playing it in the prison. “When will the rebels come to liberate you?” she asked. “Have you had communication from them?”
“They’ll come when they are ready to make their move against her,” Daria answered. “To free us before they are ready would mean drawing her wrath down upon them before they’ve the strength to defeat her, destroying all that we have worked for. We need to be patient. As to how I know their intentions, every time Petra imprisons one of my comrades, they bring certainty that we’ve not been forgotten.”
Patience had never been her strong suit, but Zarrah had bided her time before and would do it again, so she nodded.
“Here.” Daria handed her a knife. “For the bird. Waste nothing, for another will not be swiftly forthcoming.”
Stopping at the outskirts of the camp, Zarrah cleaned and dressed the gull before spitting it over a fire, the other members of the tribe applauding her success but keeping a respectful distance. She remained on her knees next to the fire while the bird cooked, her eyes and mind entirely fixated on the meal to come, though she waited until it was fully done. Grease burned her fingers as she pulled loose the first bite, but she didn’t feel the heat as her teeth sank into the first real meal she’d had since being taken off the ship.
A whimper escaped her lips at the taste, and her control fractured.
Barely chewing, she swallowed mouthful after mouthful, gnawing at the bones to get the smallest scraps, her belly aching from the onslaught, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything until the gull was nothing more than a pile of cracked bones in front of her.
Zarrah stared at the mess, cursing herself for her gluttony when she might have stretched the bird into three or more meals. “Idiot,” she muttered, picking up the bones to dispose of them outside of the camp.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Zarrah,” Saam said as he walked through the camp, a roughly made handball under one arm. “You’ll soon remember how to think of things other than food.”
That seemed a dream, but as Zarrah walked away from camp to bury the bones, her belly so full she had to clench her teeth to keep the precious sustenance down, thought did return to her head.
What it delivered to her was questions.
doing the same.” Catching hold of Zarrah’s elbow, she tugged her in the direction of the camp. “But to Knowing that the island was full of rebels who thought the worst of her, why had her aunt
give in is to allow the bitch on the throne victory over us. She wants us to devolve into beasts with no imprisoned Zarrah here? Surely she had to realize that rather than causing Zarrah to rediscover her loyalty, being around these people would only cause her to hate her more. Did she not know they were all alive and, if not thriving, at least surviving?
It didn’t make any sense.
She glanced over her shoulder at Daria, who was laughing at something Saam had said to her.
Perhaps what didn’t make sense was how quickly she’d learned to trust these people, to take them at their word, to see their actions as kindness rather than a form of manipulation.
be her damnation. But only if we keep our focus, only if we hold on to human purpose, and that”—she When she cared for someone, Zarrah was blind to their flaws. To deny that would be to deny her ignorance of how ruthless her aunt truly was. Or how much Keris had been like his father, willing to sacrifice everything to get what he wanted. I prepared you for life in so many ways, but I neglected lurked, she found her steps calm and steady as they approached the camp. Some of the prisoners were to teach you of the devilry of men. Zarrah flinched as her aunt’s voice filled her thoughts.
Was she making the same mistakes again? Who was to say that Daria didn’t use this promise of rescue as a way to control her tribe? As a mythology that bound them all together and made them courts. Zarrah had been to matches as a child, though her aunt had detested the game and banned it not
strong? Doing so didn’t make Daria precisely a villain, but if it was all a lie, then Zarrah needed to seek another way to escape.
Though she’d have to be mindful. Daria was dangerous, and if Zarrah incurred her wrath by
questioning her mythology, she might not find herself long for the world. Better to glean what she could from others while pretending to believe every word Daria said, to stay on her good side while she made her own plans. Better to—
A wet crunch filled her ears, followed by a gasp of pain. Zarrah jerked her head up in time to see one of the rebels falling backward, a spear punched through her chest.
Zarrah reached instinctively for her own spear.
Only to find a worn boot standing upon it. Her eyes raced up to find Kian standing next to her, gold teeth glinting.
“Hello, lovely,” he said. “We’re here to save you.”
remained on her knees next to the fire while the bird cooked, her eyes and mind entirely fixated on the meal to come, though she waited until it was fully done. Grease burned her fingers as she pulled loose the first bite, but she didn’t feel the heat as her teeth sank into the first real meal she’d had since being into three or more meals. “Idiot,” she muttered, picking up the bones to dispose of them outside of the
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Zarrah,” Saam said as he walked through the camp, a roughly made
strong? Doing so didn’t make Daria precisely a villain, but if it was all a lie, then Zarrah needed to seek another way to escape.
Though she’d have to be mindful. Daria was dangerous, and if Zarrah incurred her wrath by
questioning her mythology, she might not find herself long for the world. Better to glean what she could from others while pretending to believe every word Daria said, to stay on her good side while she made her own plans. Better to—
A wet crunch filled her ears, followed by a gasp of pain. Zarrah jerked her head up in time to see one of the rebels falling backward, a spear punched through her chest.
Zarrah reached instinctively for her own spear.
Only to find a worn boot standing upon it. Her eyes raced up to find Kian standing next to her, gold teeth glinting.
“Hello, lovely,” he said. “We’re here to save you.”