Broken Skies

Even though we’ll be in the woods and I’ll probably be able to hunt and gather plants, it might not be enough to feed both of us. Lir seems pretty helpless…Or does he just want me to think that?

I narrow my eyes and study him. “Are you going to be useful or are you just going to sit there?”

“What would you like me to do?” He swings his arms out to the side with his palms up. “I am happy to assist you.”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t mean right now. I meant when we’re out there…Do you hunt? Do you know plants? How far can you hike in a day? How strong are you? Are there any…differences about you I should know about?”

“Why do you need to know?” he asks, suspicion lacing his words.

Maybe not helpless, but he sure is difficult. He was pretty quick back there in the clearing and strong enough to subdue me, I’ll just assume he can hold his own physically and I’ll just have to teach him some of the other stuff.

“Nevermind.” I roll my eyes and spin around, retreating to my room.

After quickly throwing together two packs, I make a list of things I need to run to the market to trade for. By the time it’s complete, Lir is settled back on the couch, his eyelids drooping. The injury must have taken more out of him than I thought.

“You stay here and rest. I’ll to the market and get some more supplies.”

“And I was so looking forward to seeing your primitive bartering center,” says Lir. One side of his mouth slides up. “I am sure I can see it another time.”

I roll my eyes, not responding to his insult, and stomp out the door. My feet hit the dirt at the bottom of the steps before a thought makes me pause. Now that his wound has been cared for and he’s eaten, what’s to stop the alien from just sneaking off and leaving me here? Is he really even sleepy? Could he be faking? I have no reason to trust him. Back up the stairs.

I tilt my head in the doorway. “Don’t run off. There are bears.” Lir’s chuckle follows me back out and my cheeks heat. That must have sounded incredibly stupid. Hopefully it will still deter him from trying to get out of our deal.

The market, located just inside the South gate is made up of some permanent shops, but it’s mostly traders from outside that Dane allows to enter. Once they’re cleared, the traders are permitted to set up stalls just inside the gates. Some of the more…unsavory…ones set up shop outside the gates sometimes, but I stay away from them.

It feels like people are staring at me, their eyes crawling over me like little bugs. Well, they always stare a little bit, but this time they aren’t even bothering to hide it. What? So I’ve never gone to the market without Jace. Do these sheep really have nothing better to do than worry about me?

I stare at the ground. Who knows what they’d do if I actually spoke to them. I’ve barely made it past the main stretch of shops and into the rows of trader stalls when someone calls my name from a stall to the left with animal pelts lining its display.

I have no use for the pelts— Jace brings plenty of those home— but there’s still something at the stall that interests me.

My eyes dart to Matt, all long limbs and shaggy brown hair, and then to the kestrel perched on his arm. It’s his birds that bring down the small animals whose furs are set out. He strokes the kestrel’s chest with one finger. “She’s nearly fully trained now, Jax. Do you want to hold her?”

I don’t really have time for it, but I’ve been eyeing that bird since the first time he brought it out and I’m sure he knows it. I shake my head. “Maybe another time,” I say.

He smiles, one side of his mouth twisting up further than the other due to the puckered scar ru

Whoa. His words may be offering me a bird, but his face seems to be offering me something else. I take another step back. I’m sure, if I were looking to be Promised, Matt would be a good candidate, young and, despite the scar, attractive, but that is just not in my plans.

A creeping discomfort works its way through my body. He’s not standing too closely and I doubt he’s a threat to me, but the shyly hopeful look on his face throws me off. It’s best for both of us if I get that idea out of his head right now.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…I’m going on a trip and I won’t be around for a while.” I cringe. I did not mean to say that. “You know, for training the bird and all. It’s just…a bad time.”

“Alright, I understand.” Matt’s shoulders droop, but he recovers quickly. “Next time then?”

“Yeah, definitely” I say, returning his smile. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you around.”

A few discreet trades and I’ve got some dried rabbit meat, a few ration bars, some cheese and an extra loaf of bread. It will have to do. The longer I’m here and the more stuff I get, the more people are watching me.

The last stall I pass has a selection of knives displayed. I hadn’t thought much about weapons, but it couldn’t hurt to have a couple extra. Knives are good, they’re easy to use and there’s no risk of them locking up like some of the more techie stuff out there like jolt guns.

I study the selection and run my fingers over a few. A longer one catches my eye and I pick it up, testing the weight and grip. This one will work. When I look up to ask the seller how much, my eyes land on an old-fashioned rifle hanging on the back edge of the stall. That would be even better.

I wave the seller over and he slithers across to me. “What do you want for it?” I hold up the knife and use it to point at the rifle.

“The knife?” His eyes dart from me to the gun.

“And the rifle.”

The seller looks at something to my right and pales. “Not for sale.”

My body goes rigid when someone steps up behind me, not touching me but close enough to send my heart racing.

“Now, Jax, you know guns are reserved for guards and hunters only, neither of which you are.” The voice is familiar. Flint may be Dane’s son, but Daniel is his lackey. His breath on the back of my neck sends warning signals tingling through my limbs. Fight. Run. No, breathe.

My chest expands with a deep breath and I step away from Daniel, turning to face him. “Back off.”

Daniel smiles, but it doesn’t wash away the cruelty in his eyes. He takes one step back with his hands up and his smile morphs into a mocking grin. “Sorry, forgot you were a bit touchy.”

The heat of anger starts trickling in to chase away the icy fear and my limbs and tongue unfreeze. “Jace is a hunter. The rifle is for him. Early birthday present.” My words are still choppy and short, but the more deep even breaths I take, the easier it gets. “I am allowed to buy a gift for my brother, right? You know the hunter?”

“Sure,” says Daniel. “You would be, except everyone knows your brother doesn’t use guns. He’s too fond of those throwing knives of his. Why don’t you just pick him out a set of pretty little knives and leave the guns to the real men?” He steps forward again and I instinctively take a step back, ru

My right hand comes up clenching the knife from the table, my knuckles white. I jam the point up into the soft spot underneath Daniel’s chin, pushing hard enough to get his attention, but not drawing blood. Yet. Air hisses in and out of my nostrils as I struggle to control my quaking limbs and my urge to just ram the knife in a little further and be done with it. Not a good idea. I am not a killer. Well, I am, but Daniel’s just being an asshole, not really trying to hurt me. Right?