Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(12)

The words stalled in my throat. I haven’t run since Mama died. But even that was a lie. I had run. The day after burying Mama I headed into Letum Wood out of desperation, hoping to get away from my overwhelming new life. It had been a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.

“Since Marie died?” Merrick finished for me. My heart reacted with a painful ache. I folded my arms across my chest.

“I won’t run.”

“Yes, you will,” he said without an ounce of sympathy. “It’s our first lesson and I need to figure out what you’re capable of before I plan the rest out. I know you used to run all the time. Derek told me.”

Like Papa, Merrick spoke with even, calm logic. No emotion, no judgment. Just fact. It was infuriating. How could anyone live in a world of black and white, especially now?

“I already told you,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “I won’t run in Letum Wood.”

He paused, narrowed his eyes, and studied me. I wasn’t sure which was worse, not knowing what he was thinking or getting the sense that no matter how hard I protested, I still had to run. Merrick didn’t seem like the type to back down.

“Look, I can’t run,” I said, pleading. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” he retorted. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you run? You look capable.”

My mouth opened but the words faltered.

I see Mama when I run and I can’t bear it.

No, it sounded insane, even in my head, though it was the truth.

A rousing start to our first lesson, Bianca, I told myself. Two minutes in and he thinks you’re a coward. If you tell him the truth, he’ll think you’re mad. Why don’t you just start screaming like a shrew and really impress him?

“Yes, I used to run all the time, but I stopped. I-I don’t want to run.”

“So you’re afraid to run?”

The insinuation prodded my powers, raising them from their slumber with liquid fire.

“No!” I yelled. Forcing myself to calm by inhaling a long breath through my nose, I leveled my voice. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Really?” he asked in a dry tone that told me I’d just revealed too much about myself. This was rapidly slipping out of my control. “Is that why you’re reacting like a two-year-old?”

“I am not!” I stomped my foot. Merrick raised a single eyebrow. I wanted to call it all back, to rewind the morning and start over. I was acting like a small child. But I was desperate that he understand. I would not run.

“I’m not afraid of running,” I said in a too-calm voice, dropping my arms to my sides. "I just don’t like it.”

The lie almost didn’t come out. It felt as thick as sap on my tongue. In truth, I needed to run. I could feel it in my bones, in the ache of my muscles. My body longed for the freedom of movement, for release and euphoria. But I couldn’t risk seeing Mama’s ghost on the trail again, calling to me. Running through Letum Wood would revive all the memories I’d been trying so hard to keep buried. I’d never endure that kind of pain. My heart was just too frail.

He thought about what I said for so long that the silence became cumbersome. I opened my mouth to speak and closed it again. A few Guardians stumbled into the high bailey below us, laughing raucously over a joke about a gypsy.

“I’m sorry,” he said. I drew in a breath of hope. Mercy! He was going to show mercy and think of something else for me to do. My body nearly collapsed with relief. Perhaps Merrick wasn’t as ruthless and intense as I had thought. He continued, “But it’s time to face your fears and start running again. Let’s go.”

All my hope disappeared. He took off at an easy lope down the stairs on the outside of the Wall that led down to the gardens. I didn’t even have a chance to protest. His pace didn’t slow to a walk; he sped up. He couldn’t so much as put a friendly arm around my shoulder and say, “Let’s go easy on you this time.” No, none of that. He simply started running.

“Merrick, wait!” I called, starting after him. “Please?”

My cries went unheeded. Dread filled my stomach. I had to follow him or he’d tell Papa and the High Priestess. They’d demand an explanation. I’d have to talk about Mama again, and explain how frazzled the grief had made me.

I see Mama’s ghost in the woods now, Papa. I refuse to think or talk about it, so this is your only shot to learn how crazy I am now.

Forced to move forward, I let out a heavy sigh, following behind at a jog more worthy of a walk. My sluggish muscles moved with all the grace of wooden sticks at first. I felt like a toddler learning how to walk for the first time. Each step thudded heavy and leaden. I marveled that I ever used to run at all. Had it only been two months? It felt like so much longer.

Without saying another word, Merrick led us right to Letum Wood, canceling any hope I’d harbored that we’d run around the gardens.

“Keep up,” he said, ducking a low branch with a lithe side step. His body moved graceful and fast like a cat. “I don’t want to get separated while we’re in the forest.”

The rocks in the trail cut into the soft bottoms of my feet, and I mourned the hardened, calloused skin that once protected them. My heart beat uncomfortably hard and fast. When I didn’t adequately dodge a root, the hem of my dress snagged, and I spilled onto the trail, scraping my foot on an exposed stone and rolling onto my back.