Page 4 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

After a few minutes of walking in silence, I say, “Four?”

“Yeah, four.” He kicks a pebble.

I hear my stomach grumbling. There’s no way we could hunt again, not with the keepers. Dinner is normally the only meal we get, and just from trading for water and extra clothes, we didn’t make out quite as good as we usually do.

“Wella and Layla make it on one, easy,” Damien says quietly. The little ones, who are probably waiting back home for the water they were promised. Water they wouldn’t have got if Damien was caught.

It’s different for him than me. If anything happens to me, my mom would be fine. His family relies on him. Sure, his mom gathers, but plants aren’t enough to feed a family. And when the occasional survivor of a fire comes around for a healer, they don’t have much extra to offer in turn for her salves.

“Mom and I can split one,” I say.

“No,” Damien says. “No. You get two.”

With my stomach this empty, I’m in no position to argue, but Wella and Layla sharing one leaves him, Elliae, and his mom with one. He takes me back to my dwelling, and we unload the water, two austecs, and salt on the table, throwing a sheet over it in case of any snoops.

Before he leaves, I slip one austec back into the pack.

Night falls while I run my hand through the dirt, brushing away all the debris and filling the newly cleaned space with twigs and bark. I twirl a twig in the gap I made on a piece of wood, and when I see the glow of orange I place it on my pile of twigs and blow until fire catches. This used to feel silly, a Fire Folk using practical skills to start a fire. Now I worry I won’t have to do this much longer.

Mom has the austec skinned and on a stick, holding it over the fire. I tuck my knees into my chest and watch the flame. I try to ignore what it reminds me of, what it means to me now after ten nights of running from it in my dreams.

The dreams are only dreams, I tell myself. I’ll never be what I am in them. Even if I can start fires with my hands soon, I won’t kill anyone.

“You okay?” Mom asks, the fire turning her face orange.

“Yeah.”

“You’re looking at that fire like it’s going to burn you.”

“It might.” I smile to lighten the mood.

“Only if you fall in,” my mom says. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

I wish I could tell her. The dreams and the cut and the fire and the arson come to mind. All the things that occupy my brain when the distractions of the day die down. “Nothing comes to mind.”

“Your magic?”

I hold my hand tighter. “Still nothing.”

“Good,” she pauses, “good. Things are changing around here,” she says. “I saw more keepers today.”

I wonder if she knows Marice is dead and Sevyn is gone. “Oh.”

“I don’t think you should hunt tomorrow,” she whispers, making sure no easy ears nearby can hear. Nepenthe and their super senses.

“We need to eat,” I whisper back.

“Janice can get us berries.”

“She has Wella and Layla to worry about.”

“I’ll watch them while she gathers.” She turns the austec and starts cooking the other side. “It’ll be fine.”

“Won’t there be more work with the keepers here?—”

She cuts me off. “No woods tomorrow. Understand? Stay close to home.”

I push away the thought those words bring. It’s just anxiety, I tell myself. But staying close to home normally means leaving home, in the end.

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