No More Frozen Bones

Chapter Six

I sat on the hide-covered ground, crossing my legs and resting my elbows on my knees. I cupped my chin in my hands as I observed the two figures before me. Baker had termed it 'babysitting.' My task was simple: watch over the pair and prevent them from leaving camp.

I supposed my younger siblings were cute, but the ache in my tailbone made me yearn to be anywhere else. Fear kept me seated. Our captor might come back and see me break the 'babysitting' rules, so I forced myself to endure it.

I refrained from asking about Mother, Father, and Jack. I shouldn't. Yet, doubts nagged at me. What if these children weren't actually my siblings? Accepting the word of the bone-thin man without question was not an option. It meant denying my own free will. Speaking with them seemed not only reasonable but necessary. I also wanted to know how Mother was doing after her hard pregnancy. And if Jack became a soldier like he wanted. And if Father trained them both as he did me.

"Do you—" I faltered, cheeks flushing bright red. "Are you okay?"

They stared at me.

The wide-eyed boy cocked his head. "They cut us."

My entire body heated up at the thought of one of Baker's men manhandling them. They were too young for anything like that. Especially a silly initiation.

The boy seemed reserved. He was reluctant in every tilt of his head and each breath he drew through his nose. It was as if he was too worried to do anything under my watchful eyes. He lifted his sleeve, inspecting the fresh and stinging cut skin of his forearm. He noticed me looking, and his eyebrows knitted. He cradled the injured limb closer to his chest.

I averted my gaze to make him more comfortable.

"Noah." a higher voice snapped. With gritted teeth, she clutched one of her hands and tapped the other against her thigh. "Don't."

Noah. The name sounded like something that appealed to Mother.

The girl's shoe was missing. Her pants tore at the knee, and irritation had reddened her tapping hand. She stood as her brother's protector, a role she likely always embraced. Her gaze never wavered, unapologetic even in her exposed state.

I tried to swallow down the hurt at the mistrust she displayed.

I couldn't help but compare myself to her. Did she look like me? No, not really, but neither did Father. They looked like Jack, especially Noah. I'd need to check my reflection. Analyze the contours of our faces with hard focus to find any sort of resemblance.

"I'll get you out of here," I thought out loud, the weight in my chest lightening at her hopeful look. They needed me, and I was ready to look out for them.

"Father will come," Noah squeaked. A shadow formed on his face when he leaned forward. "We can't leave. We'll get lost." I couldn't stop life from blossoming in one of the darker recesses of my mind. The place where I shoved back my hopes of rescue.

The girl's head snapped towards him, hair whipping her neck. "Father won't find us. We have to do this ourselves."

"Did you—" I started to ask, gaining back both of their attention. "Does your father train you?"

"Yes," Noah rubbed his shoulder. "He trains me. Sometimes..." His body was shaking, and he moved to sit on his knees. "Trains Willow more."

"Noah and Willow," I said. I liked it.

Willow tilted her head when I said her name. "Yes?" The way she enunciated resembled her twin in an eery way.

When I first got to camp, it was hard to fall asleep without my mother there to hold me. She gave me comforting rubs when I curled up by the fire. And, light whispers of love when I felt left out of training.