The Grace Year(71)
I get up and start pacing the floor. “They need to know. Everyone needs to know.”
He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t make any difference.”
“How can you say that? It would make all the difference in the world. They wouldn’t be losing their minds … they wouldn’t be acting like this. The grace year could come to an end.”
“The curse. The magic. Even if they believed us, it wouldn’t really change anything,” he says. “As long as there’s a price on your flesh, there will always be poachers. There will always be a grace year.”
“There has to be something we can do,” I say, my eyes welling up.
“We can leave,” he says, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Last year, a trapper from the north brought us a message from a family we knew. They made it over the mountains, beyond the plains, to a settlement where men and women live side by side, as equals. Where they’re free.”
I’m trying to even imagine what that would be like. Everything in me wants to say yes, run away from the pain, but a horrible feeling spreads from the pit of my stomach all the way to my throat. “Our families—”
“Anders will take care of my family. They’ll get his pay, and as soon as we’re settled—”
“What about my family? If my body is unaccounted for, my sisters will be punished, sent to the outskirts.”
“If Michael is half the man you say he is, he would never let that happen.”
I bristle at the mention of his name. It feels wrong coming out of Ryker’s mouth. “Let’s leave him out of this.”
“Even if they were sent to the outskirts, my mother would take them in.”
“But would they be expected to…”
“Not until they’ve bled,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“And after that?” I ask, the realization gutting me.
“As soon as we’re settled, we’ll send for them.”
“And if we never settle?” I ask, but I mean live, and I’m tired of not saying what I mean, so I ask again. “What if we don’t survive? What happens to them?”
“We will … but why is it okay for my sisters to work in the outskirts and not yours?” he asks.
“It’s not…,” I say, completely flustered. “But when I think of my sisters having to receive a man from the county, a man like Tommy Pearson, or any other man who’s patted their head at church, watched them sing in the choir, watched them grow up, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“When I found you on the ice that night, you were ready to take your own life rather than hand it over to a poacher. Your sisters would’ve been sent to the outskirts. Why are you hesitating now?”
“I wasn’t in my right mind.” I raise my voice. “You saw me … I was dying.”
He pulls me close, pressing his forehead against mine, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
The nearness of him, the warmth, feels like a soothing balm.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.
“Then trust that we can do this,” he says. “We have time to figure all of this out, but in the meantime, know that I will find a way. For all of us.”
“Why do you want this?” I ask, searching his face for answers.
He traces his fingers down my braid, all the way to the end of the red silk ribbon. “I want to see you with your hair down, with the sun on your face.”
Just before dawn, Ryker descends the ladder to meet Anders, and I feel hopeful for the first time in I don’t even know how long. Lying down on the bed, breathing in his heavy scent, I imagine what it would be like, being with him, as man and wife, away from the county, away from all of this. I always thought the best I could hope for was to work in the fields. I never imagined anything more than that. I can tell myself it’s because I’m a realist, but the truth is, I’m a coward. You can’t be hurt if you don’t try. I don’t know when it happened—when I stopped reaching for things. Maybe around my first bleed, that first heavy reminder of our place in this world. But I think I’m ready to start striving for something more.
When I hear Ryker’s boots on the ladder, I spring from the bed. He must’ve forgotten something, but I’m glad. I’m going to surprise him, tell him yes—but a dark-shrouded figure emerges through the door covering. Before I can grab one of the knives, he has me up against the wall, crushing the hilt of his blade against my windpipe.
“Anders…” I try to get free, but he only presses harder.
“Don’t talk. Listen. Tonight, when the moon is highest in the sky, you will leave.” I’m blindly groping the walls behind me, desperate to find something I can use as a weapon. “There will be a candle and a shroud waiting for you at the foot of the ladder.” I’m struggling against him, trying to grasp his arm, but it’s no use. “I will make sure your path is clear and marked to the breach in the fence. There, you will take off the shrouds, leaving them behind, and then slither back into your hole, where you belong.”
“Ryker…,” I whisper, straining to speak. “He’ll kill you first.”
“You need to know that I’ll be coming back here at first light with every poacher in this camp. If you’re not gone, and Ryker chooses to protect you, I won’t be able to stop them.”