The Poison Season(83)

“Weapons?” one of the council members asked.

“Bows, knives, and spears will be allowed. No traps or snares, though if the fool should run into one that’s already been set up, that’s his own problem. The first Endlan to draw blood will have the honor of sacrificing the prisoner.”

It was almost impossible to fathom that they were talking about him. He’d never taken part in a hunt before, though his father had, and he could imagine their conversations were very similar to this one. Stepan was a decent hunter considering he’d grown up in a city, but he’d never taken down anything larger than a turkey. Jaren had so many things working against him, he might as well be a slow, injured, flightless bird. At least a turkey could flap into a tree. He doubted the Forest would even grant him access to one.

When they were finished speaking, he was tied to one of the pines, given a waterskin and a chunk of bread, and told they would return at sunset. Exhausted and afraid, Jaren sat down on the Forest floor and waited for his time to die.



Chapter Forty-Nine


Leelo hadn’t slept at all the night before, which had fortunately allowed her to sleep for most of today. She had woken up in the late afternoon, her eyes red, her throat still hoarse from screaming. Fiona tried to get her to eat something, but all Leelo could stomach was a few sips of water. She couldn’t believe how close they’d come to escaping, only to have it snatched away from them by her own family.

Leelo and Fiona had shared Leelo’s room for the night, and she assumed Sage had stayed with her mother in her bedroom. She would never forgive her cousin. Never. She couldn’t even look at her.

And Sage, of course, wouldn’t look at Leelo. She had been tasked with guarding them tonight while Ketty participated in the Hunt. Sage had actually argued that she should be the one to go, since she had found Jaren, but Ketty had said it was too dangerous, that there was too great of a risk of being injured by another Hunter.

Leelo wasn’t sure if Ketty was still traumatized by her husband’s death, or if it really was going to be that dangerous. She knew what the hunting song sounded like, after all, how bloodthirsty Endlans could become. She thought of poor Jaren, alone and defenseless, and her eyes filled with tears again. She didn’t think she’d ever run out.

“Can I do anything for you?” Fiona asked gently, stroking Leelo’s hair. She’d been so kind to Leelo through all of this, never once blaming her for getting their family involved. Leelo knew it was partly because she herself had fallen in love with an outsider, but it was more than that. Mama would have accepted Jaren anyway; that was just the kind of person she was.

“I want to go out there,” Leelo whispered. Sage was standing by the door with her bow and arrow. “I want to help him.”

“You can’t, darling. I told you about those men who came to Endla, the ones your father and uncle found?”

She nodded.

“They were... Hunted. And it was a terrible, bloody business. You don’t want any part of it. Trust me.”

“But this time it isn’t three strangers. It’s the boy I love being Hunted, Mama. How can I abandon him now?”

“You’re not abandoning him. He would want you to be safe.”

Leelo rested her cheek on her folded arms, the cool tears rolling over her skin and onto the table. “I don’t know how to go on after this. What am I supposed to do now?”

Fiona laid her head down next to Leelo’s, their eyes meeting. “You will grieve, child. You will grieve for the rest of your life. But you will go on. For Jaren. For Tate. For yourself.”

“And for you,” Leelo whispered.

In the distance, they heard a loud cry, followed by the hum of Endlan voices scattered all around the island. The Hunt had begun.



Chapter Fifty


By the time evening began to fall, Jaren was so uncomfortable from being tied to the tree that he was actually looking forward to the Hunt. Anything to put him out of his misery. He had one plan and one plan only: get to the boat, assuming no one had moved it. That was his only chance off the island, and he would get to it or die trying.

When the council members returned, Jaren was dismayed to see them heavily armed and dressed to Hunt. He was wearing the same ratty tunic and breeches he’d been wearing since he arrived, and though he’d tried to stay healthy, he was still far weaker than he’d been before he came. He’d had nothing but the porridge and bread to eat today, and the summer heat had been stifling.

“I’m going to untie you,” one of the men said. “You’ll have a head start.”

“How long?” Jaren asked, rubbing at the places where the rope had chafed him.

“When the sun sets, once the singing begins, the Hunt is on.”

Jaren stared at the man, who nodded, and with that, Jaren took off for the shore. He stumbled over roots that appeared out of nowhere, tripped over rocks he didn’t see. Branches that should have cleared his head smacked him in the face as he ran in what he hoped was the direction of the beach. He could hear the singing now, eerie and yet hauntingly beautiful. It didn’t lure him in, however. It just made him aware of how many people out there were trying to kill him.

He thought of his family: his gentle, loving father, his sisters, each so different and yet all just as loving as Stepan. He thought, too, of his mother, how he had always secretly believed that he was her favorite, though she would never admit it out loud. And he thought of Leelo. He wished he could spare her from all the pain he’d caused her, but he would never regret loving her. Whether it was fate, bad luck, or simply a hungry wolf that had brought him to Endla, it was all worth it to have fallen in love with her.