Fire Country

“He couldn’t stand it. Neither of us could. I didn’t have any choice really, but to stay with your father. Skye was on the way already. I was making a family out of nothing. Brev left.”

Left? “But there’s nowhere to go,” I say, feeling around with my words, trying to work it out. Ice country? The Icers’d never take a Heater on. The Wildes? Far as I know, they’re all women and they were only started a few years back. That leaves…

“He started the Marked and I never saw him again,” my mother says and I blink, stu

She finishes with my hair, and I absently feel ’round with my hands. Even without gazing into the reflections of the watering hole I know she’s done a beautiful job. Several short braids curl delicately ’round my head like a crown, woven so tightly they’re like rope. A longer braid falls down the center of my back. Even without the memory that graces my mind at that moment, I’d know it’s the same hairstyle she created for my sister just ’fore the Wilds took her.

But I can’t think about any of that. ’Cause her true love created the Marked.

There’s a knock at the door. The Call. Will I answer?

“Go,” my mother says. “You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

I squeeze her hand ’fore I go, saying And you can tell me ’bout Brev and the Marked.

~~~

My feet are heavier’n tug. The march to my Call is full of blazing torchlight marking the way, casting dancing and wriggling shadows along the pathway.

Sari refused to escort me which is fine by me. My father can’t ’cause he’s overseeing the proceedings and is already there. That means I have no family willing or able to walk with me. It’s so different’n my sister’s Call, where me and my mother walked with her the whole way—or at least until the point where the Wilds found a way to grab her.

So that leaves Veeva. Sun goddess, bless Veeva. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

She’s gripping my hand and talking a mile a moment ’bout how proud she is of me and how whoever ends up with me is a lucky baggard. I smile and thank her, but inside I’m quaking like I’m staring down the throat of a hungry Killer. And all that keeps thrumming through my head is:

I’m not ready, I’m not ready, not ready, not ready.

In my heart I know the truth: I’ll never really be ready. Maybe once upon a time I coulda been ready, back when things were simpler, when Circ was alive, when my father wasn’t Head Greynote, when my mother wasn’t dying…

But not now. Now things are so messed up I wa

We reach the Call so much faster’n I expected we would. My stomach drops ’bout to my feet, like I jumped off something high.

Not ready.

At least half the village is gathered in the center of town, where the bonfire’s been churned up to a roaring inferno. Extra seats’ve been rolled in—shaved tree trunks and boulders mostly—to accommodate all the Greynotes. My father’s atop the largest boulder, presiding over the whole thing. His eyes meet mine and a rare smile plays on his lips. This is all he’s ever wanted. A daughter of his to make him proud. To Bear. Fulfill a duty, replenish the tribe and all of that blaze. I look away from him.

The rest of the spectators are either family and friends of those participating in the Call, or nosy onlookers who just wa

The eligible men are seated in a cluster on one side of the fire. They’re shirtless, as if they wa

The rest of the Calls, like me, are entering the area from all different directions with their escorts. Some of them wear wide smiles, like they’ve waited their whole lives for this moment. Maybe they have. Others look as scared as I feel, their faces blank and their eyebrows darting ’round like they might be grabbed and carried off by a man at any moment. Some of the shiltier girls are tossing their hair and wearing dresses so small and tight they leave nothing to imagination. Most of the guys are staring at them, their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. In a way, I sorta admire those girls’ confidence. Least they know who they are and what they want.

Me, I’m a confused mess, all jitters and nerves.

Veeva guides me to a wide, white blanket where several girls are already sitting. She gives me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, but I’m so numb I hardly feel it. “Try to enjoy it,” she reminds. I blush ’cause I know exactly what she’s talking ’bout. And then she’s gone and I’m alone.

Lara is off somewhere, maybe being whipped into submission by the Wild Ones, but I know she’ll be laughing, too. Laughing that she’s not a part of this, like she pla

The remaining girls take their position on the blanket, whispering and giggling. I say nothing, just wait.

It starts. My father stands on his boulder, arms out to keep his balance. “Friends,” he says, starting slowly. “It’s with a mixture of sadness and gladness that I begin the first Call as Head Greynote. We all wish Shiva could be here, but alas, the Fire has claimed another honorable victim.” He pauses, letting everyone take in his words. “He will be missed.”

To the villagers, his words probably sound heartfelt. They’re probably tearing up, saying silent prayers to the sun goddess. But I know better. Behind his words and tone is the truth. He wanted Shiva to die—couldn’t wait for it—so he could take over. For over a year he’s been carrying on his own plans and secret trade agreements with the Icies, framing i

I curl my fists at my sides. Right now, anger is good. It chases away the fear.

My father continues. “The Call is an important and magnificent event for us, the Heaters, the people of fire country. It is near and dear to my heart. It is a chance to say to all that threaten us, we will not be defeated! We will carry on, replenish our flock! We are not afraid!” A cheer rises up, but it’s deep and heavy—a man’s cheer. When I look ’round most of the women are silent.

“It is also when our Youngling girls become women, take on the mantle they’ve been charged with wearing. They will Bear our next generation, raise them to be future Hunters, Greynotes, and Bearers. One of these Youngling may even Bear your next Head Greynote!” A hardy chuckle from the crowd. My father is working the audience like he’s been doing it his whole life. I feel a stone in my stomach, growing bigger with each word.

“Now, without further delay, we begin the spring Call!” Everyone cheers now, either ’cause it’s expected or ’cause they’re actually excited. I close my eyes.

Someone else takes over from my father, an a

“Goyer!” Luger shouts. Quite a few people cheer. I don’t know him, but apparently Goyer has lots of friends. An older guy, maybe twenty five, stands, smiling. It’s a kind smile. He seems like a nice man to have as a father, but as a Call? Uck! Kaya stands frozen for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then walks to meet Goyer between the two groups. Goyer reaches out and accepts her hand. They walk away, toward whichever tent or hut he’s in. There’s no time to be wasted—there’re children to be a-Bearing!