I stepped away from him. "My father didn't cheat; he followed the rules the same as everyone else!" By now several people had stopped to watch us. The old woman with the laundry basket wore a smirk. A middle-aged man passed us on the street before he stopped to lean against the building on the opposite end of the trail, laughing in a drunken haze.
Broskow adored it; he loved having an audience. He stood up straighter, easily towering over me, and spoke to the people around us. "Bribery is for cowards who are too weak to hunt their prey on their own." He pointed at me. "Her family does not deserve to be our Exalted. Who here will help me hunt down Dahlia Priest tonight and drag her to Town Hall?"
A small cheer erupted from the onlookers.
"Together, we'll make sure the Priests have seen their final dawn as the Exalted!"
I felt the blood drain from my face. This time the cheer was more heartfelt, and some of the people cheering – some of them I knew.
My wrist was grabbed in a claw-like grip and I jerked back to see the old woman with the laundry basket, her eyes watering with anger.
"Perhaps we ought to hold onto her now, and bring her when the bell tolls," she said with a cracked voice. "That would be easier."
"No, no," Broskow chided with a wide, toothy grin. "We must follow the rules. Carra would fall without her traditions.” Again, his eyes met mine. “Don't worry, she won't escape us tonight."
In my heart I knew he was right. Every year the hunting parties grew more and more determined and I had to push myself to be smarter and faster than every person in town.
I turned from them and ran.
I no longer cared what they thought.
"That's right, run!" Broskow’s laughter taunted me from behind. "Run, Little Mouse, back to hide in your hole! It won't save you!"
I pictured Bisa's face in my mind: her warm smile, her easy laugh, her mischievous eyes.
I wiped at my face, at the blood on my cheek. I hated the warm blood that was seeping into my leather tunic and growing colder by the second. I hated the way I smelled. I hated that I had let Broskow get to me, and I knew that word of what happened would spread quickly.
Why couldn’t I have just left him alone? Why did I always have to try and prove them wrong? If I just didn’t care, it would have been so much easier.
I took a few deep breaths as I turned down the next street. I didn't want Bisa to see how shaken I was. She would fret and want me to stay, but I had to be strong for tonight, didn't I?
Dappled morning sunlight streamed down through the pines. Leaves rustled and swirled past my feet, and in the distance a crow cawed. Earlier, before I ran into Broskow, I had felt like I had plenty of time, but now I felt like every minute before midnight was fleeting. Only mere hours of daylight were left before the terror of The Seeking began.
All I wanted to do was to sink into Bisa's arms and forget all of it.
I stepped inside Mr. Eddington's restaurant and immediately appreciated the heat from the fireplace in the corner. The room was filled with pine tables and matching chairs on a well-worn wooden floor. Everything in Carra was made of pine because those were the only trees within the Boundary Line.
"We're closed!" Mr. Eddington called from behind the swinging doors of the kitchen. "Come back for lunch." When my boot squeaked against the floor, he stuck his head out with a suspicious look. He was a short man, bald on top save for a handful of wispy white hair that stuck out against his golden brown skin.
"I'm just heading up," I said, hoping for a quick exchange so he wouldn’t see the shape I was in.
His eyes went wide. "Dahlia! By the Grays, what happened to you?"
I shrugged. "Just Broskow being an asshole again. Nothing I can't handle."
His face clouded over with disgust as he approached, but I knew it wasn't aimed at me. "No matter what they say, remember they can't do a damn thing until midnight. This is your time, not theirs."
It was hard to look him in the eye as I nodded. Mr. Eddington had always had a piercing gaze, though I’d never seen him really angry. Even when the restaurant was packed with people, he was able to keep calm.
"They don't seem to care much about rules."
"You've had to hide for too many years if you ask me." He pulled a white cloth from where it was tucked behind his belt, the same he normally used to wipe down the tables. "Here, hold still." He wiped the pig's blood off my cheek then did his best to wipe it off my shoulder.
I thought I had done a decent job of it myself, on my cheek at least, but the cloth came away with more blood than I realized. The leather tunic I wore was normally easy to clean, but some must have gotten into the seams. That could be a problem, as even the Exalted family only had so many outfits. Clothes in Carra were rarely replaced because materials were always scarce.
He sighed. "That's going to need a good washing to get out."
I thought back to the old woman with the watery eyes and her basket of laundry. "No, that's okay. I'll see if Bisa can work on it."
“Ah, that’s one of Bisa’s, isn’t it?”
“It’s from a few years back, but yeah. She insisted on making one herself since my last one fell part.” I gave a small smile and he nodded, stepping back. I was trying to lighten the mood, but his anger lingered.
"Bisa's upstairs. Remind her that she and her little brother are welcome to come down and enjoy some apple pie tonight. She may be my only tenant, but that doesn’t mean she needs to hole herself away all day.” He balled up the bloodstained cloth in his hands. “Tell her if she needs anything from me today...or tonight, let me know." His eyes gleamed as he said this, and I understood this offer was for more than just Bisa.
"Thanks, I'll let her know." I made to head upstairs, but Mr. Eddington lowered himself into a chair, and the tone of his voice told me that I wasn't yet permitted to leave.
"You're a strong girl, you know that?"
His bluntness took me off guard and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I turned toward him and watched as he dragged a hand over his head.
"My boy Ray, I used to call him my little ray of sunshine. He was insightful for his age, just didn't know how to keep his tongue. He meant well but he wasn't strong like you.”
I cocked my head to the side, “I forgot you had a son.”
“Oh yeah, little Ray was a ball of energy.” A grin spread across Mr. Eddington’s face as he looked down to the bloody cloth in his hands.
For a moment I could imagine what he looked like ten years younger and dealing with backtalk from a gregarious son. Then the smile faded, and the years fell hard on his features again.
He twisted the bloody cloth into a tight rope. “His mouth, though. That’s what got him in trouble. One day he said the wrong things to the wrong people and, well, he didn't last long monitoring the Boundary Line."
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my mind slowly wrapping around his words after the run-in with Broskow.
Mr. Eddington spread out the cloth, as if he only just realized it was stained completely with blood, and used the back of his arm to dab at his forehead. His expression softened again. "Your family are good people, Dahlia. Don't let anyone tell you differently. When Ray got killed out there, your mother and father were the first to visit. They did everything they could to help. I'm grateful for that." He cleared his throat and looked down to the worn boards beneath his feet. “I'll do anything to keep them as the Exalted."