"There's an old farmhouse out near the Boundary Line that got hit hard by the storm this summer and is still in ruins. Mr. Mackeral only used it to keep his sheep before then, but it's got an old, broken trough where the pigs used to be kept. I'll be hiding beneath it. I've already cleaned it out and stored supplies there."
Bisa’s eyes narrowed. "You don't think that'll be a bit obvious? There aren't that many abandoned buildings in Carra."
"It's near the Boundary Line and people don't like going that far out, especially on The Seeking. There's also a nice supply of mud that will help throw off Broskow's dogs. He's already been bragging about them."
She arched an eyebrow. "He might be trying to throw you off the trail. You know he throws threats around like honey just to see if it will stick."
I sighed heavily. "Broskow is known for his dogs. He always has at least one."
Bisa shrugged and I could tell she didn't like the idea, but honestly no hiding place was perfect. Each of them had weaknesses. "So, if your primary hiding place gets found out, what then? What else is out there?"
"If that happens, I head to the woods. Remember that hollowed-out tree I showed you that one day?"
She smiled and a gleam entered her eye. "That's where you used to hide from your brothers, wasn't it? But you're not a little girl anymore, sugar. You can't really fit in there, can you? What kind of hiding place would that be?"
"It'll be a tight fit, but it's better than being out in the open. At night, they won't be able to see me that far away."
"Far away," her eyes went wide. "Wait. Dahlia, that's not just near the Boundary Line - that's past it. You literally have to step over the dandelions to get there."
"Yes, but—"
"No, that's not an option. I don't like that at all."
"I used to hide there for hours as a kid and nothing attacked me. I really don't think it's a big problem."
She unlaced her arm from mine, turned to face me, and took my shoulders, squeezing tight. "Look, Dahlia. I just want you to be safe. You're more important than the damned Exalted, okay?"
I thought of Mr. Eddington downstairs. I thought of a young man walking the Boundary Line with nothing more than maybe a wooden dagger and a torch. I looked down at the floor.
"I want to be safe, too, but I also have to think of my family. I don't know what's going to happen to us if someone like Broskow gets to live in the Exalted House. I don't know what might happen to our friends or anyone who supported us."
"If you're worried about me, you really don't have to be. I'm not afraid of—"
"It's not just you. It's Mr. Eddington downstairs. It's anyone who has spoken up for us in the past. It's anyone we've helped. For all the people out hunting me down, there are lots of people hoping I make it."
She was silent for a moment before eventually nodding. "Only as a last resort, you understand?"
I nodded.
Satisfied, she let go of my shoulders and shook her head. "I swear I don’t like the mind games involved in this. There are just too many angles to consider."
"You mean you don't think being a member of the Exalted is as glamorous as it's cracked up to be?"
She laughed. "Glamorous is the last word that comes to mind. It's like you're a solitary militia."
"You just have to learn to be one step ahead of everyone else."
3
Hunted Animals
It was almost dusk when I headed out, a small satchel of food hidden under my cloak: emergency supplies, as Bisa told me, though I could tell by the smell of them that they were Mr. Eddington's pastries. Bisa was an excellent cook, but even she couldn't replicate those.
The cold wind hit my cheeks as I stepped outside, but I didn't mind. Marcus had gone downstairs to see Mr. Eddington for a little while, giving Bisa and me a sweet couple of hours together. My body still tingled, and my cheeks felt flushed; in contrast, the cold breeze felt good.
That was her way of wishing me good luck for The Seeking. Neither of us spoke about it, but we both knew the risk was very real and that I may not live to see her again. She wanted to make our last moments memorable, and I certainly wasn't going to complain.
The sun was beginning to set, and I knew that my day of freedom was quickly waning.
The streets of Carra were alive with activity and the thick scent of apple pie seemed to clog my nostrils. As I headed back toward the Exalted House, almost everyone I passed had the familiar scent cloaking them.
When I was little, Grandma said that The Seeking had its roots in an old holiday that used to be celebrated in the Old Days, sometimes called All Hallows’ Eve or Halloween. At one point, whenever Carra was created, it was decided that Halloween would instead be known as the day of The Seeking.
She had also mentioned a plant called a pumpkin, something big and orange, but all Carra had were apple trees, so that’s what we used instead. I liked to think that pumpkin pie smelled way better than apple pie, but I probably would have still been sick of it after so many years.
One woman passed by me with four dogs following behind, and I stepped aside to keep the pack from being able to catch my scent. It didn’t really matter, but I didn’t want to give them an early start.
A boy carrying about ten unlit torches, followed his father who carried a lit one, drew near me, but he was too focused on where he was going to even notice me as I hurried by.
Next, I weaved around some of the children who were play fighting with sticks.
“This Priest is mine!” One of the boys shouted to his attacker and I couldn’t help but stiffen. The Priest child, who I assumed was supposed to be me or one of my siblings, was a toddler, likely a sister of one of the boys. I shook my head and kept moving.
There was an excitement and a buzz in the air that made my stomach sink. It filled me with dread.
I was grateful that I hadn't chosen to wear the colors of the Exalted today. In the daylight, people like Broskow could identify me, but here as twilight approached, it was harder to spot faces. I pulled my cloak closer around me as I approached the shops.
Apples, cinnamon, nutmeg: the scent of apple pie was overwhelming here, and I saw stacks of them cooling on shelves and windows. As daylight faded, shops would only sell dozens of types of apple pie to prepare for The Seeking.
I noticed Broskow's butcher shop was closed and the darkness in the windows made my chest tighten.
Where was he? Normally he would be out enjoying the festivities, selling pies like many of the other vendors, but his absence worried me. Was he trying to start The Seeking early?
I heard a raucous burst of laughter from one of the nearby buildings; there were lights on inside, but it appeared closed to the general public. With my heartbeat pounding in my temples, I made my way to one of the windows and peeked inside.
There was Broskow, as well as the old woman with the laundry basket. I could only see their backs, but they, along with about a dozen others, formed a ring. At first, I thought they were talking in a circle, but then I saw snippets of a person between the gaps - they had surrounded someone.