Page 8 of Spoils of war
Somehow,Idid.
I knelt beside her and placed a trembling hand against her cheek. To my surprise, I wasn't met with the icy touch of death. Instead, herskin burned like a fever, and panic seized me as I grabbed her shoulders.
“WAKE UP!” I cried, as I shook her.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, as if waking from a long, peaceful sleep. But the moment she saw my face the drowsiness vanished, and she was wide awake in an instant.
“Licia?” she gasped, almost frightened, as if she’d seen a ghost.
But if anyone had seen a ghost, it was me. Kera wasn’t supposed to be alive. Even though her parents had refused to hold a wake, they'd begun to accept that she was gone, and the rest of us had done the same. Kera was supposed to be dead, but there she was, staring straight at me, her eyes full of confusion. As I struggled to find an explanation, I realized I had none. I didn't know why we were there, I didn’t know what had happened to Kera, where she'd been, or who she'd been with. I didn’t even know whyIwas there. Or how.
“What... what happened? Where are we?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
She tried to sit up, but her hands slipped. Sticky red liquid stuck to her fingers, and she stared at them. At the blood.
“No,” she said. “No, we can’t stay here, we have to leave. Now!”
With trembling legs, she slid off the stone and staggered toward the treeline.
She nearly collapsed before I stepped forward and offered my shoulder to her. Her bare feet struck the ground in uneven bursts as we stumbled through the tangled undergrowth. I couldn’t help but notice the deep crimson stains on the back of her dress. They bloomed like morbid flowers across the pale fabric.
It still didn’t feel real. How could I have found the missing girl, drenched in blood, yet somehow unharmed? None of it made sense. But she was running from something, and I didn’t want to find out what, so I ran too.
“Do you know the way back?” I asked between gasps for air.
“Yes,” she said. “I know these woods.”
Despite the lack of tracks, she moved like she knew exactly where she was going. And in the distance, I spotted Kera’s family’s farm and the little red house, tucked behind the trees. They lived out there in the countryside. I’d always thought that kind of life sounded perfect. A small, warm house with a yard for vegetables and potatoes. A few cattle, maybe horses or sheep. To live by the land and only see other people when I chose to.
My friends never understood it, they saidmudstomperswere weird. That they smelled like goats or dirt or whatever insulting words they could think up. But to me, grass and dirt smelled like freedom. And I envied the kids who got to run through forests, and climb trees, and roll in the mud.
Kids like Kera.
Maybe that was my selfish reason for wanting her to like me. Maybe I just wanted an invite to a life I knew wasn’t for me. My own parents had too many rules. I was told what to wear, who to play with, what games to play, when to laugh and when to smile, and I was sick of it.
As we approached her house, Kera suddenly stopped. She hadn’t slowed down since we’d left the Barrow, but as she stood on the porch of her own home, she froze.
Maybe she didn’t know what to do. Normally, she’d probably just burst through the door without a second thought. But she hesitated. Maybe she was afraid of what waited on the other side. Shock, joy, or confusion. Most likely all three.
That was when I realized something.
Kera had no idea what had happened over the past month. She didn’t know that everyone thought she was dead.
Or that other children in villages had been taken too.
But no one else had been found alive.
And the wreath hanging on the door wasn’t for decoration.
It was a prayer.
Kera kept looking over her shoulder, like she was waiting for something to come out of the trees. I checked too, but there was nothing there. I wondered if she remembered what happened to her. If she would tell me one day. I told myself I wouldn’t ask, but if she wanted to tell me, I’d listen.
“They never stopped believing you'd come back,” I said, gesturing toward the wreath. Its once vibrant flowers now wilted and faded.
Kera's face twisted as she looked at it.
“How long has it been?” she asked, gently plucking a flower from the decaying arrangement.
