Chapter Ten: A Reverse Set of Questions
It was with more than a little doing that I managed to get Paige to stop surveying me like a piece on the market, and it took even more veiled threats to sit them across from me to engage in a civil conversation. The civility of the proceedings that followed seemed difficult for them. In fact, they stared at me from across the room, and the myriad of emotions that splayed wildly across the eyes and faces of the Outlanders would have been comical had the emotions themselves not been so serious. Ollie was confusion and anger. Pierce was disbelief and awe. Ali was disgust and hatred. Paige was apprehension and fear.
And all of them carried a weight of hesitancy, as if I was a diseased animal that had been trapped in the room with them. They gathered, those three, at the furthest corner of the room, I on the other side, and their eyes often widened and their bodies stiffened whenever I shifted or moved.
“Why do you speak of the Bad People?”
I addressed Paige, for she seemed the most lucid of the three – the least like she’d been slapped in the face.
“It is important,” she replied carefully.
“Why is it?”
“Probably for the same reason it’s important here. The Bad People have done a lot to our people – butchered them. We are afraid of the possibility.”
“Of what?” I asked pointedly.
“That you are a Bad Person,” she said bluntly.
I snorted, rolling my eyes.
“Stow your fears,” I said after her grave face didn’t shift to mirth. “It is a story in name only. If I was a Bad Person, would I not know? Would it not be obvious?”
“It’s not that simple,” Ollie cut in.
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t.”
I paused.
“Well, that isn’t a very good answer, is it?” I snapped coldly.
He finally sneered.
“Yeah? And what would you know? You live in a hole under the ground with a dirt for a floor. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
This barb hurt, but I refused to let it show.
“Say what you must, I am no fool. Just because I cannot understand your hard language does not mean that I am simple.”
“But believe me, nobody would ever accuse you of being a genius,” he shot back.
“You shut up!” I shouted. “You don’t even know me! And who are you? Obviously a great leader to have brought your people here, of all places!”
“I didn’t choose to come here!”
“Oh, my, but you’re here now,” I said mockingly. “How ever will you cope?”
He opened his mouth to retort again when Paige cut in.
“Enough!” she snapped. She turned to me. “Myth, you don’t understand the circumstances of our arrival. They weren’t as simple as you might think.”
“I don’t presume to understand anything,” was my reply. “But I do have some questions that I think need to be answered.”
Ollie blinked.
“What’s the matter?” I asked him.
“You’re not afraid of us?” he asked.
I sneered, masking the fears I knew part of him could feel.
“Why would I?” I asked, innocently enough. “Do you wish me harm?”
They were silent. Chills scurried up and down my arms, leaving little marks on my flesh wherever they ran.
“I see,” I finally said coolly.
I began to think I was a fool to save them.
“Tell me then,” I demanded. “From where do you come?”
There was no answer.
“Where are you heading?”
There was more silence.
“What was your purpose?” I snapped louder, beginning to lose my temper.
Every venomous silence dripped with perfidious intentions.
“We came in search of survivors,” Paige finally offered.
“Of what?” I asked pointedly.
“Of the metal fire birds in the sky,” Pierce explained.
I resisted the urge to widen my eyes, and I tried hard to mask the increasing rhythm of my pumping blood through deep, calming breaths.
“Are you to tell me then that there are colonies beyond the Great Gate that search for us?” I asked evenly.
“No,” Ollie snapped, staring Paige down with a vileness I’d yet seen. “We aren’t to tell you anything.”
“How very convenient,” I snapped back at him, my mouth rising to the challenge in his tone easily. “And am I then to assume that you find no use whatsoever for your weaponry outside? If you mean us harm, I am afraid that I will be obligated to take them away from you.”
“I’d like you to try, princess,” Ollie replied nastily.
“I need not try,” I said, shrugging. “If you all wish to continue on with this cloak and dagger business, by all means, but I cannot facilitate it. Not here. Not in my colony.”
“What are you suggesting?” Ali asked, sitting forward with narrowed eyes.
“Until I am sure you do not mean us harm, I’ve locked your weapons away.”
“Like hell you have!” Ollie shouted. “You’ll give our guns back to us now or we’ll strangle you in your sleep!”
“That would be quite a feat,” I remarked, raising an eyebrow, “considering that you cannot move.”
“Don’t ignore me,” Ali snapped. “I could slit your throat any time I wanted.”
“Well, isn’t that a cheery thought!” I said back sardonically. “Such a thing would create such a mess, don’t you think?” She was silent, and so was Ollie. I could tell they were enraged at being so powerless.
“Besides,” I said, “you could not kill me. I have but one hiding place, just one, and it is far out into the wastes. If you want to brave the horde, and the elements, in order to reach it, I dare you to try.”
This was a lie. I’d hidden away their weaponry in a lock box concealed in the wall in my front room to keep thieves from cropping up and taking them.
The Outlanders didn’t have to know that though, especially when the words “murder” and “butcher” were used in the last hour more than once.
“What’s our alternative?” Pierce interjected diplomatically before Ollie could blow up again.
“Wait,” I snapped.
Ollie glowered.
“For what?”
“Wait until I decide you’re well enough to handle a weapon, first of all,” I said motioning to his side. “And until I’ve decided that you won’t do us any harm.”
“Why?” Ollie asked.
Paige, all the while, had a budding smile on her face that grew more and more widened for the duration of her conversation. Her eyes met mine but once, but they communicated a message of both gratefulness and admiration.
“Because it’s my job to protect these miserable jerks from all threats, both foreign and domestic,” I said wearily. “And that includes fixing my mistakes.”
“Saving us was a mistake?” Ollie asked, sneering. “What a gem you are, going out of your way for us.”
“I was beaten for portending your arrival,” I replied with sudden graveness, and my hand found my face, where Rhyme had slapped me. My hands too, sore both from Rhyme’s abuse and Ollie’s, reminded me of the fact.
“Who did this to you?” Paige asked, suddenly breathless.
“My uncle,” I replied back, with a tone that dared any of them to belittle me for it. “He accused me of making up false realities in which Outlanders were not bloodthirsty savages.”
My eyes connected with Ollie’s. He looked at me queerly for a moment before turning away. His imperceptible eyes revealed nothing of his reaction of this to me.
“I humbly request that you do not give him the satisfaction of being right,” I finished blandly.
“Look…” Ollie finally said, sighing exasperatedly. “We aren’t going to kill you, alright?”
The other three turned towards him in what was obviously surprise. This didn’t reassure me.
/> “We can’t…go anywhere until I’m well again,” he said cautiously. “So we’ll wait and we’ll try to cooperate. We don’t have to be enemies.”
Yet, I couldn’t help sensing in the realm of unsaid words.
I eyed them each more shrewdly than the last, finally lingering on Ollie.
“But…” Paige finally said. “Would you mind answering a few questions for us in the meantime? We’re very eager to understand you.”
I snorted.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “Sure you are.”
But I saw she was undeterred and her curiosity, at least, was genuine. This brought a scowl to my lips.
“What do you want to know?” I asked angrily.
“We search for a mark,” Paige said slowly and concisely.
Though I’d never admit it to any of them, this method helped me to understand a great deal better than their hurried, shushed speech.
“What kind of mark?” I asked, curiosity peaked.
“A mark on your skin. Like a scar. Or a tattoo.”
They had returned to this point many times among themselves, but this was the first time they actually thought to ask me about it.
“I don’t understand,” I said, and I didn’t.
Why it would matter to them was beyond me.
“Marks,” Ollie pressed. “Burns. Blackness. Spots. Anything.”
“I have many scars. I need a more specific answer.”
Ollie rolled his eyes, as if every word I said I did so just to infuriate him.
“I…mean no disrespect, Outlanders,” I began, flushing hotly. “But many of these ‘marks’ are in places that I would not show even to those who were my lovers.”
“What did she say?” Ali asked Ollie.
“I do not feel like undressing myself to be examined by dangerous strangers!”
“Dangerous?” Ali asked, feigning hurt. “Oh, but pumpkin, that’s not very nice. Why don’t you hurry up and tell us where the marks are? Otherwise, we’d have absolutely no problem finding them for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at this.
“Just threaten me again, and see what happens,” I ordered her with a toothy grin. “I dare you.”
Ali’s eyes ignited with a challenged hatred that was so frightening even I, with all my bravado, felt a chill. Surely, something was wrong with her – her and Ollie – if they could look like that. No human anywhere knew how to handle that kind of emotion. It was too much for our frail bodies to overpower. Such emotions would rule us if we did not rule them.
But, beyond this, she didn’t move. Her hands were tied. I’d caught them in a bind, weaponless, and it made me satisfied.
“Look…” Paige said wearily. “It seems…we’ve started out on the wrong foot.”
I glanced down at my own feet.
“What does that even mean?” I asked her, surely such a nonsensical phrase was mocking, but she redacted again.
“No, no, it just means…we began our acquaintance wrongly, and we apologize.”
Ollie and Ali both snorted as if to say, “Speak for yourself.”
She and Pierce shot them a glare before she returned her gaze on me with a gentleness that parried the sheer hatred and rage I felt from the other two.
“We just want to make sure we’re safe,” Paige explained. “This is as strange and scary for us as it is for you. We want to make sure you are not dangerous to us.”
“And my marks would decide if I am volatile or not?” I asked abrasively.
But it was restrained abrasion. Paige, of them all, had been polite and courteous.
“Your marks would determine what is to happen next,” Paige said encouragingly. “We do not want to be impolite, but it’s just…important for us to understand.”
“If you worry about my illness, I’m immune. I carry no bite marks.”
I extended my hands to them with open fingers, flipping them back and forth as if to demonstrate my sincerity, but Paige shook her head again.
“No, not a bite,” she conceded, nodding. “It’s more like a dark black spot. It might be hidden or very small.”
I hesitated, and she saw it.
“Do you know what I’m talking about?”
I nodded suddenly and gathered my hair together. It was barely liftable – it was so short – but I knew that it covered the only other strange markings that there were on my skin. My mother had always forbid me from cutting the hair any shorter so that it would forever and always remain hidden. She’d made the thing seem indecent, and even to her I did not speak of it, so I felt abashed revealing it to them. I raised it above my ears and pointed to a black mark on the left side of my neck behind my ear.
What came next was noise of magnitudes that I was uncomfortable with. Above the clamor, lost in the chaos, I also hear other things I was sure they hadn’t meant to show me: anger, hope, confusion, and fear. Again, I became a background piece, and brief moments of being ignored turned to what felt like eternity. What was more, the Outlanders, ever prone to their exhaustive speculation, talked in so many circles that even I, with my divergent English, found myself to recognize certain phrases.
They most certainly thought me extraordinary, but I still didn’t understand why.
Finally, after two solid hours of being ignored and shouted at, with pent up exhaustion, fatigue, pain, distress, and genuine exasperation, I stood.
“I have to leave.”
“Where are you going?” Ollie finally asked, sitting up. “You can’t just leave! What are we supposed to do?”
I ran a hand over my face wearily.
“You are supposed to sit and wait for my return. You have already consumed much of my time, and I suspect that my energy will forbid me from venturing out the whole day anyway.” I sighed. “I fear that you will not trust another that you have not already seen, so I will bring Chess back. He was the man of last night. If you have any questions or concerns, you need only bring them to him.”
Saying his name brought a bitter taste to my mouth. His betrayal wounded me deeply, and I would not hesitate to show that to him every chance I got.
But that didn’t mean we had to stop associating. Maybe it was all just a bad misunderstanding. I hoped it was, but the presence of these disappointing Outlanders had blackened my hopes, at least for the day.
I found myself not wanting to give them my friend. I wanted to give them straight to Rhyme’s mercy. I had learned to despise them quickly, but I hid it well with good grace.
“Will you be back from…wherever you’re going?” Paige asked.
“Yes,” I replied quietly.
“Can we go with you?” she asked nervously, stepping forward as I stepped back.
The others barely noticed, so strongly were they back to their own conversation.
“No,” I said instinctively, but the reaction was harsh.
I paused to think.
“I do not trust you,” I amended, but this was not much better.
“You’re wiser than we could have hoped,” Paige said, glancing at the other three.
“You know more about a mark that’s been on my skin my whole life than I do,” I said ruefully. “That makes us different, you and I, doesn’t it?”
She nodded.
“And that means they’ll hate me, won’t it?” I asked, nodding to the others, who went on as they had, ignoring me.
Paige just nodded again.
“And for whatever reason you’ll go on hating me but tell me nothing about it?” I asked, feeling the first degree of hurt this brought me.
“It has to do with the Bad People,” Paige said. “I think. That’s all I’ll allow myself to say. I’m sorry.”
I nodding, waging whether or not to feel angry or blessed to have a half-ally among the new.
“Pierce,” I said to Paige. “He is your husband?”
“Yes,” she said, eyeing him wearily. “For many years now.”
“He is gruff and unlikeable,” I said bluntly.
This, too, was harsh.
“I apologize,” I said quickly. “I am not used to conversing with people whom I have never met before. I did not mean he is a bad man, he just seems…”
Paige nodded.
“I know what you meant,” she said.
“And what of the younger woman?” I asked. “You travel with her. What of she?”
“She is a bit of a mystery, actually,” Paige said. “She has a thick history with…” She caught herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t say. I don’t know much about her.”
“And Ollie?” I asked, eyeing him up and down. “What comment do you have about him?”
“He’s as mysterious as she is,” Paige said with genuine forlornness. “I want them to open up, but they won’t. Not to me.”
“How is it that you barely know your travel companions? Tell me, woman, was it your wish to die?”
“It was not mine, but I believe it may have been the High Council’s wish,” Paige said honestly.
I blinked in surprise.
“How cruel…” I finally whispered. “And yet you follow them still? Despite this treachery?”
“I do not, nor have I ever,” Paige explained.
She pointed to Ollie.
“He believes in them, and we must do as he says,” she said, leaning in to whisper it to me. “We were sort of trapped into coming to you. Trust me when I say it was not our wish to travel through your dead lands.”
“That brings me little comfort,” I replied. “Your leaders must be very harsh, indeed.”
Paige’s silence spoke volumes of agreement. Again, I voiced my disappointment.
“This is all very unfortunate,” I said, sneering. “None of this even seems real. You do not know how long I have waited to see an Outlander. We thought they were myths. And here you are, speaking nonsense of killing rulers and of young men leading a group of people to their deaths. Now, that’s just stupid.”
“I’m sorry,” Paige said sincerely. “I’ll do what I can, when I can. Right now, that’s all I have for you.”
“Why are you all disgusted with me?” I asked her, eyeing the rest of the group.
They were calming somewhat, distracted by Paige’s conversation with me, and I knew my insight would quickly come to an end.
“I am not,” she said quickly. “Really. I’m not.”
“But they are?” I asked, nodding to them.
She nodded back.
“I should have known better than to believe in children’s stories,” I said to myself, turning away. “You Outlanders are a big, stupid waste of time.”
“Where are you going?” Pierce asked.
“Outside,” I said simply. “When are you departing?”
I gathered my gun behind my shoulder from its place on the wall. I was already eager for the departure.
Ollie shrugged but met eyes significantly with the others. It made me furious, again, but there was little I could do but grin and bear it. It was only Paige’s sympathies that kept me civil. I sighed with impatience and finality.
“Fine,” I said. “I will return, perhaps, by half-noon.”
“When’s that?” Pierce asked, blinking.
“When it is noon plus half the day is half-noon. Near the time of dinner.”
I suddenly felt so disappointed that tears threatened my eyes. I was used to blowing things up and tearing walls down or throwing Undead out of buildings. I was not used to subterfuge and trickery. Subtlety was not our world’s strongest point. I was not used to Outlandish ways or customs, to the way they lied and cheated, and I wanted more, even if I didn’t like them. I wanted my discovery to mean something, and it didn’t – not really.
I stopped just outside of my room, and Ollie pursued me. He was clearly exhausted and in pain. The rest were still in the back room, arguing about something else now.
“Listen,” he began, but I cut him off.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know,” I said to him.
“What?”
“Since your wakening, you and the others have shown me nothing but contempt,” I said back. “It does not have to be this way. You owe me nothing.”
“You saved my life!” he snarled back with a surge of emotion. “I kind of do owe you something.”
I shrugged.
“If this is how you see it, so be it, but to me it was a favor that needs no return.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” he said sullenly. “You took away our guns. We’re trapped her until you decide to give them back to us.”
I relented, if only a little.
“Please, try to understand my position, Mr. Dark,” I said gently. “I do not mean to antagonize you, but I fear for those I care about. Do not take it personally, I implore you.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. He was surprised by its presence, as if people didn’t touch him daily. I found it disquieting and quickly removed my own, as if burned.
“You have to rest,” I said. “The wounds you received were many and deep. Blood attracts the Undead. I urge you to at least consider a leave from your journey, to wherever that may have been, and to stay your anger, for whatever reason it comes.”
He frowned. What I said made sense, and he knew it.
“We will stay here,” Ollie said to me, “if you deem it necessary.”
“I do not,” I said warily. “But it is my recommendation.”
“We will not survive out there?” he asked, clearly disappointed at the prospect of staying.
I shook my head. He tried, unsuccessfully, to smile at me. It was hard for him, and it made him look like as if he were grimacing than anything else.
I turned away, rolling my eyes only after my back was turned, and I could not stifle a noise of disgust as I ventured out to greet the newest and strangest day I had had in a very long time.