The sun slapped me in the face as I exited the hut, and I had to blink the spots away. The guards turned to glare, warnings shooting from their eyes like daggers.
"I'm going for a walk," I told them.
"I think it's best if you stay here," one of them hissed through blackened teeth.
"Oh, shut up," I said, walking on. I knew their orders were to stay put at the door.
I heard him laugh before I saw him. Bjorn. Standing in the light, all his fang-like teeth shining in his dark face.
"It's okay," he said to the guards, before turning his wolfish smile on me. "She's coming with me."
I pretended he hadn't just said that and kept walking in the direction I'd intended, my boots eating up the ground. He laughed as he hurried to catch up to my pace.
"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked me once we were out of earshot.
"Wherever the hell I like," I replied, cutting a path into the woodwork to circle around the row of huts that dotted the forest.
I was especially surprised to notice one of the other huts had guards standing at the door, like ours, and I wondered who else the savages were keeping trapped here. But then Bjorn stepped right in front of me, blocking my view.
"Stop messing around. You can't do as you please here."
"Why is that?"
He didn't appear the least bit fazed by my temper. "Because I'll kill your oaf of a husband."
"Go ahead," I threw at him, because I'd always laughed in the face of threats. No one had ever been able to hold anything against me and no one ever would.
But then I saw his face, and immediately knew I'd said the wrong thing.
He stopped dead in his tracks—I stopped too, secretly relieved because my ankles were killing me—and then we stood there glaring at each other.
"You're not even married to him, are you?"
His eyes bore into mine, but I didn't falter in the least. I couldn't afford to.
"I just don't believe a damn word you say."
It wasn't exactly true, but it was the right thing to say to cover up my mistake. He calmed down, although he appeared insulted.
"What should I do to make you believe me?" He made it sound like a threat.
I took a step forward. "Tell me why you're keeping us here."
He shook his head. "I decide what you need to know, and I decide where you go and what you do."
And with that, he launched his hand forward and slapped it around my wrist like a cuff. I tried planting my feet, but I was no match for him. He was the one in charge of these woods. Well-fed and strong, hardened by years of wilderness. His arm wound tight as a coiled snaked as he wrenched me forward.
I stopped fighting. There was no use.
We walked back to my hut looking almost like a couple walking hand-in-hand, and then he bared his awful teeth one last time, enjoying his advantage, before leaving me with the words, "Think of what you've done."
Even the guards laughed as I slid back in through the door, but I didn't care. I hadn't failed. Every time I stepped out that door, I learned something new about this place, about these people, and that was good enough for me.
...
They followed us down to the river. Our guards. They might not care much about hygiene in these parts, but that didn't mean I was ready to give it up.
Gunnar was on his feet, trailing behind me.
"I need to get him up and walking again," I'd told Bjorn, and he hadn't argued, as long as we were kept under constant surveillance.
I took my boots off and waded into the water up to my thighs, soaking my dress in the process. I had our other few items of clothing strung on my arm, and I began scrubbing them with our single bar of soap.
"Not too far," one of the guards called after me.
"Uh-huh," I called back, not that I was planning on going far. The water was ice cold.
I spun around when I heard a splash, and there was Gunnar with his shoes off, striding into the river.
"Do you need help?"
I shrugged and handed him his shirts, and we worked wordlessly side by side, quickly giving ourselves a wash in the process.
"How do you plan to dry them?" Gunnar asked once we were done.
"We'll hang a line?" I said, standing in the shallows and twisting the cloth with both hands, trying to get as much of the water out. I turned to the guards standing watch from the shore. "I don't suppose you people have dryers?"
They acted as though I hadn't even spoken, and Gunnar and I were laughing at their expressions as we sloshed back onto land.
"Here," I said, shoving the wet fabric into the arms of the shortest guard. "Carry these for me."
They gave a jerk of surprise but didn't fuss. Gunnar laughed some more as we walked back, and it was baffling to see him in a good mood. But the sun was out today, his shoulder was hurting less, and he wasn't confined to the hut, so why wouldn't he be?
It was on our walk back to camp that I caught sight of Bjorn, skinning game with a group of hunters. He watched us like a hawk, and although he was smiling at me, his brow was furrowed, casting dark shadows over his mossy eyes. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, so I just smiled back so he'd know I didn't care either way.
By the time we made it to the hut, we were both tired and aching, and still damp from our swim. Gunnar's good mood had vanished like a puff of smoke, and he'd stopped talking entirely, even as we worked together to get a line hung and our clothes up to dry. He continued to say nothing as we walked to the fire pits for our afternoon meal.
Bjorn was there with the freshly carved meat, and they didn't bother cooking it for us this time. They handed us our portions of meat and cold-crop vegetables, and we cooked them on the fire ourselves and ate them still hot, while pretending not to notice we were being watched the whole time. Even their dogs were watching, as though they understood we were outsiders. I wasn't going to complain, though. I stared right back, they were freakish in their own ways, even if they didn't think it, and I was glad to be getting fed. Besides, standing close to the fire was helping me dry properly from our swim, and it gave me a chance to study these wild folks.
There was something decrepit about them, but also enduring. They were rejects of the world, but they were also warriors of their own world, with flowers wrapped onto their heads like crowns, and vines hanging from their ears like jewelry. They wore whatever style they pleased, and their clothes were made of feathers and skins. Wools and furs. Guns and knives.
Except for Bjorn. He wore no ornaments, had no tattoos, and his clothes were more along the lines of what you'd call modern. They were draped across his body and laced into place with leather bindings, and his pants reminded me of the uniforms Gunnar's army wore. Loose-fitting but tucked into tall boots.
Even among savages, the leader dressed to separate himself from the others. I guess, no matter how far from civilization you went, some rules of status still followed.
Bjorn caught me studying him, and then stood up and started circling the fire towards us. Gunnar spotted him too, and I felt him go rigid beside me, but didn't understand what it meant. Bjorn flashed his fangs and descended in the spot at my side. The spot no one had dared claim.
Don't get too close to the albino, it might spread.
"Good to see you up, soldier," Bjorn spoke over me, to Gunnar.
Gunnar just scowled.
Bjorn didn't acknowledge it. He turned to me. "Did you have a good walk today?"
"Yes," I said.
"Good," he replied. "Perhaps you can start carrying your own weight around here."
"Perhaps you can tell us why we're here," Gunnar shot back.
The two men glared at each other, the silly things. I couldn't help laughing aloud.
Bjorn was the first to snap out of it, and he smiled at me without showing any teeth. It was less menacing that way. "That laugh is nice to hear."
I just smiled.
He smirked like I was amusing to him, before shifting his attention back to Gunnar. "All in good time, soldier. Around here, everything happens at its own pace."
I instantly understood what he meant, since the pace around here felt much slower than any I'd known before. In fact, life out here was so different, it was hard to recognize it as the same life—the same world. Too often, I'd felt like our country was cloaked in brown. It seemed full of brown smoke and sludge and money. An entire society built on oppression and rules, with any one of your neighbors ready to hand you over to the authorities if they heard you whisper a word of disaccord with the Law.
But out here, life was lighter, greener, and slower.
Basically unrecognizable.
Gunnar, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit impressed with that answer. "Is now a good time?"
The others around the fire turned to look. The ones who hadn't already been staring, that is.
Bjorn just shook his head and stood up, as though using his height as a warning, but it was a stupid move. Gunnar raised himself, too. Slowly. Uncoiling to his full height. He shrunk the lesser man and seeing the two of them side by side had an almost comical effect. Gunnar was a different kind of warrior. A military warrior. Calculated and graceful. And these savages seemed like thoughtless animals in comparison.
To his credit, Bjorn didn't waver.
"I think you should turn in for the night," he said, his voice warm, as though he refused to acknowledge the threat. "You've been injured, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt again."
"Thank you," I spoke before Gunnar could, but it was a dismissal more than a kindness.
Bjorn's mossy eyes were unfocused for a second as they sought me out, as though he had forgotten I was even there, but then he saw me, and his mouth curled into one of his hostile smiles.
"You're welcome, lightning girl," he said, before giving Gunnar a look, and then striding away on a breeze.
He moved with liquid grace, at one with his wilderness.
Gunnar took off in the opposite direction, cutting a path back to our hut, and I kicked up onto my feet to follow him, not willing to stay behind alone and suffer the weight of curious eyes. Besides, the day was starting to grow dark.
I felt the stares chasing me as I walked away, but no guards followed us.
"Gunnar?" I asked when I caught up to him, inexplicably afraid of him all of a sudden.
"Why did he call you that?" he muttered, almost to himself.
"What?" I asked, confused, and then when he didn't answer, tried again, "Gunnar?"
He stopped then and turned to look at me. I held my breath and waited. I'm sure he didn't know—he'd only stopped here because there was no one in sight, no one to listen in on our conversation—but from where we were now standing, I could easily spot the hut between the trees. The one I'd seen being guarded in the first days of our arrival, although there was no one standing watch now. The urge to walk over and look inside was almost too much to bear, but Gunnar tore my attention away.
"What's his name, that one? The leader?" He sounded angry.
I frowned. "Bjorn?"
"Bjorn," he said his name like he was trying it out, seeing how it tastes. "He's after you."
I can't explain why, but at his words, I flushed all over. I was flattered, I think. But I tried to mask it.
"After me?" I echoed, playing for time.
Gunnar said nothing. He was making me nervous, watching my face like that. Like he could guess my thoughts.
"You like him," he said then, and it wasn't a question. It was an accusation. "You trust him."
"No," I barked in surprise. "Of course, I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone."
He appeared to relax at this. "But you trust me?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but then stopped. Being honest with him might not be in my best interest right this moment. But then, it was already too late. He'd guessed what my hesitation meant. There was no sense denying it now.
"You're disappointed in me," I said.
He looked away—frowned at the near distance. "I'm disappointed in myself."
That, I hadn't expected. I just stood there in stunned silence as Gunnar walked the remaining distance to our hut without me, as though heavy with regrets. I remained standing beneath a darkening sky, tormented by something I couldn't name—something that felt like restlessness.
Something that felt like the need to run away and never look back.
Once he was out of sight, I walked off the main path and cut a line through the trees, to see what was inside that hut now that it was unguarded. But when I pushed the door aside, I found it empty. Although there were still unmistakable signs of someone having been here, which left me wondering who else in camp didn't belong.
...
"If you expect to eat, we expect you to lend a hand," Bjorn barked at me.
That morning, he'd showed up at the door of our hut while Gunnar was gone to the river. Bjorn had asked me to follow him, and we'd walked deeper into the woods than I'd been before, then he'd turned and pressed a rifle into my hands.
"We don't expect to eat," I retorted, shoving the rifle right back at him. "We expect to leave."
"You can't leave," he said, giving me a toothy grin. "Your husband is injured."
"It's been a week. I'm sure he's well enough to journey on to the next town."
"You killed everyone in the next town."
"We've been over this already."
He stuck out his bottom lip, like a stubborn bulldog. "Well, you're not going to want to leave without eating something first."
"Cut the crap," I snapped. "You're keeping us here. Why?"
"The people who fail to contribute to our community don't get fed, lightning girl," he continued, avoiding my question. "We might not function to the rules of society here, but we do have rules of our own. We do have punishments for those who abuse of our kindness."
My thoughts turned to the savage Gunnar and I met on the train. He'd been weak and underfed. He'd been dressed poorly, and he'd been separated from the others.
Is that why? He was being punished?
My stomach twisted with distaste. The more time I spent with these savages, the more they disappointed me. They weren't as different as the rest of the world as they liked to think.
He lifted the rifle at me again, urging me to take it, but I shook my head.
"We didn't ask you to feed us. We didn't ask you for anything. You brought us here, and I'd like you to tell me why."
"I'd like you to show me if you can shoot. Please."
I could shoot. My mother and I had conned our fair share of hunters. But I wasn't about to tell him that. I didn't need him knowing I had skills he could use.
When I didn't budge, Bjorn sighed, and that's when I knew I was winning. I was wearing him down.
"I'm going back," I told him, turning on my heel and starting back towards camp.
"Wait," he called.
I stopped and smiled secretly. I had him.
"If you shoot for me," he said. "I'll tell you what I want you here for."
I turned slowly.
"You'll have to show me how to use it," I lied.
He gestured for me to come closer, and I walked back to him and let him put the weapon in my hands again.
"Like this," he stood very close and showed me how to hold it.
I copied him and tried not to let my experience show. Thankfully, he didn't appear to catch on. He was too preoccupied with other things. Like how to make his hands linger on me longer than needed without my noticing.
I noticed.
And I remembered what Gunnar had said, about how Bjorn was after me, and it made me feel... powerful. Like I finally had an advantage on him. I finally had the upper hand. Then I held the gun up and shot, deliberately missing the tree he'd instructed me to aim for.
Bjorn huffed impatiently. "Try again, please."
I did. I shot and I shot. I missed each time. Then I aimed for real and caught the tree dead-center, just so it would look like dumb luck. Even an inexperienced shooter would have to get lucky from time to time, right?
"Huh," he said, as I handed him back the gun. "You've really never been hunting before?"
"Never," I lied again.
He looked disappointed by this, just like I wanted him to. He nodded over and over as he appeared to consider what to do.
"That's somewhat of a letdown."
"Were you hoping to take me hunting?"
"Oh, I'm going to take you hunting, lightning girl. I meant it when I said you'd have to earn your keep."
"Did you mean it when you said you'd tell me why you're keeping us here?"
He smiled, amused. "Yes."
"And?" I pressed.
"And I'd like your husband with us for this conversation."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure I can relay the message."
He laughed. "Please, just tell me something first. Why are you so eager to leave? Where are you going?"
I wasn't all that interested in answering his questions when he wasn't answering mine, but I suddenly couldn't resist the idea of shocking him. "My husband and I are returning to the new king and queen."
"And why is that?" He smiled, faintly curious.
My own smile grew. I was having fun now. "Because the new queen is my mother."
The shock spread all over his face at once. He actually took a step back, and I wanted to laugh so badly. For a long minute, he said nothing. He just stared.
"Then you are a princess," he said finally, and although I hadn't considered that before, I realized it was true. It sounded ridiculous, though. What did being a princess even mean in a world like ours?
Quietly, I watched Bjorn as he attempted to process this new piece of information, and I saw the moment his expression started to shift—saw the moment he began to adjust to this revelation and start fitting it into his plans.
"And yet," he said suddenly, green eyes bright with mischief. "You're not loyal to the new king."
"What makes you say that?"
"You might be married to one of his soldiers, but I've been watching you, and you don't exercise religious practices. Plus, there's what happened a few days ago, to that town."
"That wasn't our fault," I reminded him, resenting him for mentioning it at all, but it was a foolish thing to say. Being defensive wasn't going to convince him of my innocence, it could only do the opposite.
His smile confirmed my fears. "I knew you would be useful to me the first time we met."
He came close again and brushed the hair out of my eyes in an almost tender gesture. I wanted to push him away, but I also wanted him to finally tell me his plans.
"Is that why you're keeping us here?" I spoke slowly, and he watched my lips forming the words.
"I'm keeping you here because I want you to become loyal to me."
He was still standing much too close, but I held very still as I waited for him to continue.
"I see you. I watch you. And I know that you're not loyal to the new leader. I also suspect that you were never loyal to our fallen king." His gaze moved from my mouth to my eyes. "You're too wild a creature for the world as it is now, and I recognized it in you almost from our first encounter. And I believe that you belong here. With us. With me."
I leaned even closer, our noses almost touching, wanting him to keep going—wanting to know everything.
"What for?" I whispered.
"I want you to go with your husband... as my spy. I want you to pretend to be a part of their cause, but really, you'll belong to me. I want you—" And then he broke off and left it at that, before he kissed me.