The Poison Season(19)

Stupid, stupid bet! Jaren thought, and ran as fast as he could away from that cursed lake.



Chapter Eleven


Five days. Five short days until Tate would board the boat used to send incantu children away before their twelfth birthdays. Five precious days before Leelo would never see her brother again.

Leelo held a branch aside as she and Tate made their way through the underbrush. They were practicing his hunting skills the old-fashioned way, since he wouldn’t be able to lure animals with song the way the Endlans did.

Incantu could sing, of course. They weren’t truly voiceless. But their songs held no magic, and the shame that came with their inadequacy meant most incantu children wouldn’t even attempt to sing in front of others.

Tate had a small wooden bow and arrow that he’d fashioned himself over the winter, and as he quietly followed the rabbit he’d chosen, Leelo tried to reassure herself that he would be all right. The rabbit seemed to sense Tate’s presence, but it continued to munch on the clover in the little clearing it had found. At least Tate knew how to hunt. He wouldn’t starve out there.

Yesterday, she and Sage had done their own hunting after their shift as Watchers. There were very strict rules about how many animals Endlans could take for themselves and how many they needed to give to the island. While the Forest was capable of taking its own food, as Leelo had witnessed, it was perfectly content to let the humans help. After all, if it got too greedy, the animals would cross the ice to the mainland in the winter and never return. Everything on Endla was a careful balance of give and take.

Sage had set the snare, and Leelo had done the singing. While every Endlan had a beautiful voice, Leelo had an especially wide vocal range and unique tone. Besides, she far preferred the singing to the killing, and it was always a relief to let the notes out, even if it had only been a few days since she’d last sung.

They were a good team; they’d caught two squirrels and a fat hare. The Forest had gotten the squirrels, since they didn’t have as much meat on them and Fiona could use the hare’s pelt for clothing. Sage had volunteered to take the carcasses back to the pine grove, which had given Leelo enough time to finish all her chores yesterday so she could spend this afternoon with her brother. Sage might not be able to understand what Leelo was going through, but at least she was trying.

For several minutes, Tate sat with his bow poised and an arrow notched, until finally, he released it. The arrow struck the rabbit in its haunches, immobilizing it, and Tate made quick work of slitting its throat, letting the blood run into the soil as he murmured a prayer of thanks to the island.

“Well done,” Leelo said, trying not to look at the rabbit. One of the other good things about hunting with Sage was that she was always willing to do the dirty work, knowing how sensitive Leelo was when it came to death. But she had to get over this squeamishness somehow. If there was one thing she had learned from her aunt Ketty, it was that survival was a bloody business.

Tate smiled at her over his shoulder and cleaned his blade on the grass. “I know you’re worried about me,” he said. “But I really will be okay.”

There was an assuredness to his tone that Leelo hadn’t heard before, and she was grateful he was managing to be so brave. “It’s not you I worry about,” Leelo said, looking off toward the village on the other side of the lake. “It’s them.”

“That’s what I mean. Mama told me something... I’m not supposed to tell you. But it’s a good thing. Something that will keep me safe. So you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“What something?” As far as Leelo knew, her mother had never kept a secret from her before. Certainly not with Tate. He was terrible at keeping secrets, like the time he’d overheard Leelo confide to Sage she had a crush on a boy and Tate had immediately told. Of course, that had been years ago. She looked back at her brother, marveling at how much he’d grown.

Tate kept his lips pressed together and shook his head. “Mm-m. I’m not telling.”

If their mother had told Tate a secret, especially one that could keep him safe, then she wasn’t going to pry. She just hoped it wasn’t a lie Fiona had concocted to make him feel better. He deserved to go out into the world with his eyes wide-open. She remembered the villagers with their taunts and stones all too well.

And then she remembered the boy who buried the hatchling. She hadn’t seen him again, and none of the other Watchers had reported a sighting. She wondered what had brought him here that day and what he thought of Endlans. He had waved when he could just as easily have thrown rocks. Perhaps Tate could find someone like him. Even Sage said some outsiders were better than others.

There were two more incantu leaving in five days with Tate. Another boy and one girl. Only three islanders out of more than three hundred. Why did Tate have to be one of them? Leelo wondered. Why couldn’t it have been some other family? But she knew deep down that those other families would grieve the loss just as much, that her desire was selfish.

At home, Tate skinned his rabbit while Leelo helped her mother sort wool for knitting. Fiona was making Tate another sweater—he already had plenty, but it was Fiona’s way of working out her feelings—and Ketty was pulling a savory pie out of the oven.

“What’s the occasion?” Leelo asked, inhaling the smell of butter crust and roasting meat.

“Didn’t Sage tell you? We’re going to the Hardings’ for dinner.”