The Poison Season(82)

“That may be true under normal circumstances,” Ketty said. “But this boy has done far worse than the average criminal. Not only did he use our own vessel to deliberately cross to the island, nearly destroying our one boat in the process, but he seduced one of Endla’s daughters and tried to lure her away.”

Jaren wanted to point out that was not entirely true, but with a gag in his mouth, the most he could do was gurgle in protest.

“Shut up,” Ketty said, poking him with a stick in between his ribs, which were already bruised from being dragged through the Forest by several burly men.

“And what would you have us do with him?” another council member asked. “Kill him ourselves?”

Ketty began to nod, but someone else spoke. She was an elderly woman with a kindly look about her, and Jaren began to feel a small spark of hope that someone might defend him. “What about a Hunt?” she said in a honey-sweet voice.

There was a murmur of excitement among the council members, and Jaren realized with growing dread that the little old lady was not defending him at all.

“What’s a Hunt?” Sage asked, a little too gleefully.

“We let the boy go on the far side of the island, and then we sing the hunting song,” Ketty explained. “Whoever catches him gets the honor of sacrificing him to the Forest.”

Jaren’s eyes met Leelo’s, and he knew the terror he saw there was reflected in his own.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Ketty said, but Jaren stopped listening then. He already knew what the answer would be.

It could have been several minutes or several hours later when Jaren was hauled to his feet (he’d collapsed to his knees at some point, it seemed) and dragged through the Forest.

He lost sight of Leelo and her mother, and maybe that was for the best. He couldn’t stand to see the anguish on Leelo’s face anymore. He hoped for her sake that she wouldn’t have to participate in the Hunt, that she would be well clear of the pine grove when they slit his throat. He hoped Ketty wouldn’t be the one to catch him.

Around him, the Forest was silent. It had to be the middle of the night by now. Would they do it tonight, he wondered, or would they wait till morning? Either way, he was so exhausted he knew he wouldn’t last long. He decided he hoped they’d do it tonight. He wanted to get this over with.

Finally he was pulled up a walkway to a large cottage. The big man who had spoken first at the council meeting yanked him through the doorway. “You’ll stay here tonight,” he told Jaren, which was the first information he’d received all night, and he was strangely grateful for it. “The Hunt begins tomorrow night at sundown. You’ll be fed before then, though not much. And if you cause any trouble, I’ll slit your throat myself.”

Jaren nodded. He was pushed into a bedroom, brusquely untied and ungagged, and locked inside.

He collapsed on the bed and curled onto his side, too tired to even check his body for damage. What did it matter, when he was going to die tomorrow anyway? His stomach turned sour at the realization that he’d been so close to freedom, of escaping not just on his own but with Leelo, and now he was going to die. He didn’t even hate Sage and Ketty or the other Endlans. They were doing what they thought was necessary. He just wished he could prove to them that he would never hurt Endla, or any of the people on the island.

At some point he fell asleep, and he woke to sunlight streaming through the windows. For a moment, all he could think about was how nice it had been to sleep on a real bed. He stretched out and rolled onto his side, and that was when he remembered where he was and why. His mouth felt fuzzy, his wrists were raw where they’d tied him with rope, and his injured leg was acting up again. But he was still alive.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A man—not the same one from last night, but one similar in stature—brought in a tray of food and set it on the nightstand without looking at Jaren. As if he was afraid Jaren and his outsider ways might rub off on him somehow.

Jaren hadn’t had a hot meal since he came to Endla, and he quickly gobbled down the porridge, scalding his mouth in the process. For jailers, they were being awfully considerate. There had been cream and honey in the porridge, though Jaren had eaten it so fast he’d hardly tasted it. He wondered if it would be considered rude to ask for more, then decided it probably would be.

Later, the same man came back and told Jaren to follow him. In the daylight, he could make out the size and quality of the house better. Whoever this family was, they must be powerful in some way, because this cottage was far grander than any of the others he’d seen on Endla. Once they were back among the trees, Jaren realized with disappointment that they were returning to the pine grove. He didn’t like that place. It smelled of old blood and had an eerie, watchful feel about it.

The rest of the council was already there when they arrived.

“Did he try anything last night?” Ketty asked the man who was escorting Jaren.

“No. He was quiet as a mouse.”

“Good.” Ketty glared at Jaren and took her place with the rest of the council. “Everyone has been alerted of tonight’s Hunt,” she said. “One member from each family will be permitted to take part. Except for the Hart family,” she added. “My sister and niece will be kept at home, in case they get any ideas about helping the outsider.”

Jaren was glad that Leelo wouldn’t have to see this, but knowing he would not see her even one more time made his chest feel hollow.