The Glass Arrow(18)

She halts a few feet in front of the barrier, and even from the distance I can see her shoulders heave. She’s bawling now, and a strange sadness cracks my hardened heart. She didn’t want to come to the Garden, and if I understand nothing more about her, I get that.

I wonder if she’s been to auction. The Governess usually holds back the new girls for at least a month of conditioning, but if she already had a prospective buyer she could have gone today. I’m too far away to see if she’s still wearing her Unpromised earrings. One would have been removed if she’s progressed to the paperwork stages.

And then I see a figure break from the crowd on the street and approach the fence.

One of his hands stretches towards her, and for a moment I think he’ll touch the metal, but he backs away suddenly and kicks the ground. She’s still crying, and has wrapped her arms around her midsection. In his other hand is a bottle, and I see it only moments before he heaves it at the ground near the fence. Pieces of glass clang against the metal, and sparks fly as the liquid spurts out.

Straw Hair is wailing now, chasing him down the fence line as he strides away, head down.

He’s right to make a quick escape. He’ll be fined for throwing that bottle. If he’s a Merchant, he might even lose his business license. If he ever wanted to buy her, he won’t be able to now.

She’s lucky he didn’t throw a knife at her chest.

I keep staring at her like she’s putting on some kind of show.

It’s dark now, and the Watcher is rising from his chair. I think he’ll come out and watch me for a while, but instead the door slides open, and he throws a thin bedroll on the ground outside. It rolls through a patch of dust until it’s coated on all sides by dirt. I sneer at him, but he simply turns around and lays down on his mattress inside the office.

Though the bedroll would make a nice mattress atop the rocks, I refuse to take it, and march back behind the office to the little privacy I have. I keep my eyes on the barn, just in case the Driver boy wants to break the Watcher’s command and come at me, but only the horses are moving within.

Tam and Nina love horses. Tam especially. He’d probably have chewed through the chain by now, just to get to that barn. The thought makes me smile.

At last Brax arrives. He’s happy again to see me, though probably not as happy as I am to see him. We play for a while, and soon I’ve forgotten all about the straw-haired girl and her visitor. About the Watcher and his stupid bedroll. About everything ugly in my life.

Brax has laid down, and I am just about to rest on his fluffy neck when he jumps back up and snarls, so quietly I can barely hear him. He’s facing the barn, and I strain my eyes to see what he’s looking at. Maybe a horse out in its paddock has startled him.

A moment later, the Driver boy appears, and this time I can see that he’s wearing a plain white T-shirt and dirty, tie-on linen pants, and he’s barefoot.

An ice-cold fist closes around my heart. He’s walking straight towards me.





CHAPTER 5

I REMEMBER HOW FAST he flung the knife. How I would be dead if I hadn’t reacted quick enough. He wants to finish the job. He’s going to come in here and try to kill me, since he didn’t succeed before. Or if not, at least try to hurt me—the Watcher didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

If I scream, my guard will come out, but after the way things went before, I doubt he’ll do anything. He’ll probably think I baited the horseman and punish me for it. Strong as I am, I’m not ready for another choke out.

I should flee around the side of the office. The Driver won’t follow; he has to be afraid of the Watcher. Everyone is afraid of the Watchers. My pulse is pounding in my ears. A freezing line of sweat rolls down my spine.

Just as I’m about to take off to where my guard can see me, the boy stops, three paces away from his side of the barrier. He lifts his hands to show they’re empty, like this is supposed to mean he’s safe or something. He’s trying to tempt me to drop my guard. Well, I’m not going to do it. He must think I’m ten kinds of stupid if he thinks I’ll fall for that.

My toes claw at the dirt, but my feet stay planted. I don’t know why I’m not running. Some unseen hand is holding me in place. Fine. If my body won’t run, it can still fight.

I wrap the chain around my right hand and drop down and pick up a fist-sized rock with my other. I stand behind Brax, waiting for him to strike. We’ll take this boy together.

The Driver climbs down to the edge of the stream and lowers himself to the water. For a moment I think he’s about to drink it—this time I’m not objecting. His hands plant in the mud and he sniffs at it. There’s a subtle sour scent to the water, the only clue that it’s poisoned, and he must smell this because he jerks back and stands. His face is shadowed, and this makes me even more nervous. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Brax is lowering himself to the ground, a low growl rumbling in his chest, but the Driver seems oblivious to the wolf’s killer instincts. Maybe he’s insane. Or maybe the city people are right and Drivers really are thick.

But I remember that look on his face right before the Watcher knocked me out. He didn’t look thick. He knew exactly what he’d done.

The Driver wipes his hands on his thighs. Shifts from side to side. Then, very slowly, he reaches his foot forward over the water.