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"Aniwa! Aniwa!"
Aniwa froze at the sound of her older sister's voice but the rabbit she stalked bolted into the nearby woods. It disappeared into the dark shadow that covered the forest floor. Aniwa straightened and looked toward the village. What now? Despite the dim skies, it was still two hours until full dark, plenty of time to get tomorrow's supper and return to the cabin before curfew. The ground rock on the path grated and Rusk's shrill voice cut through the stillness as she called again.
"Aniwa, you little rat. Where are you?" Rusk was closer now, a dark figure that grew more distinct as she approached.
Aniwa dropped to the ground and crawled around to the other side of the prickly berry bushes that lined the small clearing. She hadn't spent any time voluntarily with her sister in the past two moons and she didn't intend to start now. Nothing good would get Rusk to leave the village this close to gathering time. Aniwa stilled her breathing and strained to hear her sister's movements. Unable to hear anything, she risked a look through the dried leaves.
Rusk had left the path and climbed up the steep incline toward Aniwa's hiding place. She climbed slowly; two wooden buckets brushed against her billowing skirt. Every few steps she would pause to glare at the surrounding wilderness as if she could will Aniwa to show herself. "If you don't come out now, so help me…" She punctuated the open-ended threat with a fierce spin that swung the empty buckets free from her skirt.
Aniwa glanced at the sling she held in her hand and grinned as a wicked little idea grew at the back of her mind. She took a small, smooth stone out of the satchel at her side and dropped it into the leather pouch of her slingshot. Rusk stopped and spun as she scanned the hilltop. Aniwa waited for Rusk to turn away from her, and then she stood, spun the sling twice around her head and let fly with the stone. She heard it hit one of the buckets with a solid thunk as she dropped back to the ground. Without hesitation, she rolled to the left and peered through the underbrush once more.
Rusk yelped, dropped the buckets, then stood there and rubbed her hand. She scowled at the empty countryside around her. "I'm gonna tell Mom that you did that!" Rusk shouted.
Aniwa backed out of the brush and worked her way closer to the woods. Rusk continued to pivot and she shook her hand as if to wake it. Aniwa bit back a pang of regret at hurting her sister. It couldn't have hurt that hard, though; she knew she hit the bucket. Besides, it served Rusk right for being so mean.
"I told Mom not to give you back that awful slingshot. I told her we should burn it."
Aniwa put another rock in the slingshot and waited for Rusk to turn the other way. Then she stood and, after only a second's indecision, whipped the second stone at the nearest bucket. The bucket jumped as Aniwa dropped to the ground and rolled to the right in an effort to keep from being seen.
It didn't work.
Rusk turned and looked right at the wood were Aniwa hid. "You are in so much trouble," she said. She picked up the buckets and walked toward Aniwa. "She's mad at you already because you ran off and didn't stay for chores."
Aniwa stood up. "Chores are boring," Aniwa said. "And I hate having to dress up to do them." She despised the whine in her voice, but she couldn't stop herself. Why did she always sound like a child around Rusk?
"We all have chores to do," Rusk said. "These clothes aren't so bad, either. They're very pretty." She twirled and the multi-colored skirt flared around her.
"They're dumb," Aniwa protested.
Rusk stopped admiring her dress and shot an angry look at her sister. "You just don't like them because they're girl clothes."
"They're dumb girl clothes," Aniwa corrected. "They make it harder to do everything."
"Oh, I don't know," Rusk said, "I find that it really helps in some cases. All I had to do was smile at Dunn and he carried all the firewood from the shed to the house for me."
Aniwa groaned. "Are boys the only thing you ever think of?"
"You're such a child, Aniwa."
"I am not! I'll be thirteen cycles next month."
"Thirteen?" Rusk laughed at her. "That's hardly more than a baby. I think Mom should sell your dresses and buy you diapers."
Aniwa clenched her fists in anger. Rusk was five cycles older than she was and, ever since they'd moved here, she'd become unbearably mean. "I'd rather wear diapers than have to kiss boys to get my chores done."
Rusk's face blazed and her eyes snapped. "What are you talking about?"
"I saw you in the woodshed yesterday."
"You little spy!"
"I wasn't spying." She hadn't been, really. She was just looking for some good sticks to whittle on when she saw them. Two figures in the shadows at the back of the shed. "I did see you, though, and when I tell Mom--"
Rusk grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't you dare." Her eyes were wild and watery and when she shook Aniwa, her fingers dug into Aniwa's shoulders. "Do you hear me? Don't you dare."
Blinking back sudden tears, Aniwa shook her head and a thread of fear laced through her. It was the first time in her life she'd ever known anything that could hurt her sister and that scared her more than Rusk's anger. "No," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone."
Her sister stopped shaking her and just stood and stared at the ground. Unsure of what to do, Aniwa twisted the sling in her hands and waited for Rusk to make the first move.
"Things are different now, Aniwa." Rusk spoke without looking up. "This is different than the Wilds. There are rules we have to obey. Customs we have to follow. This village is now our home. We have to learn to live here."
Aniwa couldn't believe what she heard. "This isn't our home. It will never be our home. Our home is the farm, in the mountains. In the freedom of the Wilds we find our life, our home." She'd grown up singing that pledge. As had Rusk.
"Nothing is free, Aniwa." Rusk looked up. The hard edge of panic in her eyes had been replaced by a shadowy sadness. She reached out and put her hand on Aniwa's shoulder, gently this time. "We will never go back."
"That's not true!" Aniwa stepped back from her sister and shook Rusk's hand from her shoulder. Her own emotions as churned up as Rusk's. "We have to go back. Dad will come for us."
"No." Rusk fiercely scrubbed the tears from her face.. "Dad's dead."
"He's not," Aniwa shouted. "He's just not come back, yet!" There was a roaring in her ears and she couldn't catch her breath. "Mom promised we'd go back. She promised that Dad would meet us."
"Mom lied." Rusk's words were harder than the stones that Aniwa used in her sling. "Do you think she would have left if Dad was still alive?"
"She promised," Aniwa repeated but a small doubt grew at the back of her mind. "Dad's alive and he's coming back." She grabbed her sister's sleeve to force her to agree.
Rusk jerked her arm away from Aniwa and caused the younger girl to lose her balance and fall to the ground. "Believe what you will. I don't care." Rusk kicked at the buckets. "You have to get us water for tonight." She smiled.
It was a mean, small smile and so very different than the Rusk that Aniwa had grown up with. She wondered if the real Rusk was still back at the farm and had been replaced by this evil stranger. This being whose moods changed so violently.
"Since you won't wear proper clothes," the mean doppelganger said, "you will have to go all the way to the river."
Aniwa frowned as she fought to keep up with the changes in the conversation. "The river? But that's too far away."
"It's not that far away, you crybaby," Rusk said. "Just follow the path and you'll find it. Although, you may have to have to run to get back before curfew."
She spun, the bright colors flashed in the setting sun, and she headed back to the village. "When you get home you better tell Mom it was your idea to go alone," she shouted back over her shoulder. "If you don't, I'm going to tell Mom you hit me with stones. You'll never get your slingshot back."
Aniwa watched her sister walk away, then stood up and dusted herself off. Rusk hadn't been so mean before moving here. She hadn't been so mean before Dad... Aniwa couldn't finish the thought.
"Dad's coming back," she shouted after her sister's retreating form. "You'll see, he'll come back."
Rusk never looked back.
After a moment, Aniwa turned and trudged down the path toward the river. Her hatred for this new and horrid world she lived in grew with every step she took down the path. In the five weeks since they'd moved here, Aniwa hadn't made any friends and she could no longer do any of the things that she loved. When she turned thirteen she would have to wear dresses and shoes all the time and would have to join the other of-age girls in daily classes held in the village where they would be trained to be servants and attendants. Her mother had explained that the Training Academy in the village was the most respected and honored academy in the land. She'd said that Aniwa was lucky to be going there.
Aniwa didn't feel lucky. "It's not fair!" she shouted at the quiet countryside.
Her life had been perfect, back on the farm. She didn't want to be anyone's servant. She couldn't stand the thought of spending her life cleaning up after other people who thought they were too good to do their own work. Even worse was the idea that she would have to do so in a dirty, crowded city, far from the woods and hills that she loved. Her dad would return and save her from that. He had to.
Aniwa stopped and looked around. She'd never walked to the river before and was suddenly unsure how far away it was. The village well sat in the middle of the Meeting Square in front of the Training Academy, only a ten-minute walk from their home. Aniwa knew that she could turn around, walk to the well and home again in half the time it would take her to walk to the river. When she looked down at her dirt-covered trousers and shirt, however, she knew she couldn't do that. She'd been warned, the last time she'd appeared in a public area dressed like this, that there would be dire consequences for being 'unseemly and insulting'.
Aniwa had no idea what the 'dire consequences' actually were. Her mother, though, had been called to a special meeting that night and when she returned, she hadn't just been angry, she'd been afraid. She wouldn't tell Aniwa what had been said, but had taken all of Aniwa's hunting and trapping equipment and packed it away in an old trunk. For the next week, Aniwa had been restricted her to the house, where she had to write apologies to everyone who had seen her about town dressed inappropriately. Today had been her first day of freedom from that tedium and she did not intend to jeopardize what little liberty she had left. The river had to be close.
Twenty minutes of walking later, Aniwa could no longer ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would take her twice as long to walk back with two buckets of water. If it were much further, she would never get back to the village before curfew. At full dark, the sentries closed the gates and released the guard hounds. Once that happened, no one was allowed in or out. If she weren't back in time, she'd be locked out in the long, dark night.
Aniwa had spent many nights out under the stars in the past, but she had no desire to do so here. She'd heard the tales of the water sprites and river dragons that were told to frighten the children into being safe at home before curfew. Those tales didn't frighten her. Sprites and dragons were just wild animals, after all, and she had grown up in the Wilds. Animals were simple to deal with. They were to be respected but not feared. No, what frightened her were the demons that walked the Low Lands, hunting for people to capture and devour, the Shadow Wraiths of legend that weren't even whispered about around the campfire.
She peered at the darkening woods that encroached on the path. She didn't want to believe in the wraiths and, while the sun shone, it was easy not to. Now that the sun set, however, the deepening shadows seemed to move from hollow to hollow and the wind in the tree limbs sounded more like a moan than its usual sigh. She shook her head and fought to free herself from the haunting thoughts. A rustle of fallen leaves jerked her attention to a small grass-covered opening that led away from the main path and wound into the trees. A second later a small rabbit scurried out of the woods and down the grass pathway.
Aniwa gave a shaky, quiet laugh. Scared of a rabbit, how stupid was that? It's a good thing Rusk wasn't here to see it. Aniwa watched until the rabbit disappeared, only then did she remember that she should have tried getting it with her sling. Rabbit stew would've gone a long way to earn her mother's forgiveness for not doing her chores.
Aniwa started back toward the river only to stop a second later and look back at the overgrown pathway. She knew what this was. It was the trail to the abandoned WatchTower. If that was the case, the river was still a good forty-minute walk away. She dropped the buckets and fell next to them, unsure if she wanted to cry or scream. She couldn't do it, not even if she ran both ways.
A new, unfamiliar hatred of Rusk burned deep within her. Rusk probably wanted her to get into trouble. Did Rusk know how far away the river was? Did Rusk want her to be locked out of the village?
Her only choice was to go home now, without the water and beg her mother's forgiveness. Perhaps there would be enough time for her to change and go to the village well. She stood, tried to ignore the thought that this was just what Rusk wanted, and turned to head back to the village. As she did so, her eyes fell again on the path that led into the woods and a sudden inspiration struck her.
The WatchTower had to have a well, didn't it? Every WatchTower had its own well and they often provided water for the poorer homes in the community. If the well was still there, she could fill her pails and make it home in time. She scrutinized the dark path, took a deep breath and headed into the gloom. If a rabbit could do it, surely she could. She was braver than a rabbit, right?
Despite her protestations of bravery, Aniwa was happy to see that the woods quickly thinned and a clearing opened up in front of her. The tall, grey walls of the WatchTower loomed up in the center of the meadow, decay and neglect crumbling its once grand design. It hurt Aniwa to see it like this. She'd been to a WatchTower twice in her life, both times for the Reawakening Festival after the first true rainfall in the spring. That had been at a WatchTower two days ride from their farm. Her dad had told the stories of the Breaking of the Worlds and how BreckenHaven had come to be. He'd been so proud of his service to the Council and the Keeper herself had welcomed him into the WatchTower. It was the first time Aniwa had realized that her farther was a man of importance to BreckenHaven: A hero.
This WatchTower was taller than that one. That one ended with two parapets while this one had three. Or at least it had had three, back when it was cared for. Now the top third of the spire had fallen to the ground and the inner rooms were exposed to the elements. Aniwa didn't know why anyone would abandon a WatchTower. Without the WatchTower, there was no place to gather for celebrations and no one to turn to for reading of the word and the law. Her father would never have wanted them to live in a place that didn't have WatchTower, she was sure of that.
The collapsed form of a well could be seen off to the side and Aniwa worked her way over to it, stepping over the scattered ruins that littered a once beautiful garden. She feared for a moment that the well had been filled in, but the cover lay to one side and a rope was still wrapped around the hook. Aniwa unwound it and tied it to one of the buckets. She lowered it into the well and it dropped a good thirty feet before she felt it hit water. She waited for it to fill, then pulled it back up. The water in the pail was clear and cold and Aniwa took a long drink of it. It tasted better than the village water. It took another minute to fill the second bucket and she wrapped the rope back around the hook, ready for the next use.
Aniwa took a moment to get a better look around the abandoned WatchTower. Five small statues stood under a tall tree whose leaves were still green despite the lateness of the season. At first Aniwa had thought that the weathering and the passage of time had damaged the statues, but when she looked closer, she could see that someone had beaten them. Anger flared within her. It was bad enough that people abandoned this place. What kind of person would deliberately destroy its treasures? The head of one of the statues lay half-buried in grass. Aniwa knelt and cleaned it off. The face of a young man stared up at her, his eyes glittered with dark jewels and his ears were broken off.
Another head, this time of a young woman, lay not far away and Aniwa dug it out of the overgrowth, too. As with the boy, the dark jewels in her eyes remained, but the sides of her head were chiseled away. A bright flash of color caught her attention and she saw that a thin ribbon was attached to neck of the girl statue. When she tugged at it, a deep red stone swung free of the debris. It glittered in the dying light and, when it spun, it looked almost liquid. Aniwa set it back in the grass next to the beheaded statue. She stared at it for a moment, then picked it up and put it in her pocket. Maybe a gift for her mother would help make amends for the problems she caused. Besides, she didn't think the statue would care.
She stood and took one more look around, trying to see the glory of its past days in the current ruins. Her gaze drifted to the side of the tower, past the overrun gardens to the Remembrance Wall. She walked over to look at the names etched into the smooth, reflective stone. These people died in service to BreckenHaven and the Council.
Those who serve Grace, live always in Grace. She read the words carved into the top of the wall and reached out to touch the names, as she'd seen so many do during the Reawakening Festival. The stone was cool and the letters hard and sharp. She didn't know why but she read all the names aloud and was happy to note that none of them were her father's name.
"Looking for someone?"
Aniwa let out a small scream when the voice spoke from behind her. She spun, pressed her back against the wall and reached for the small dagger that hung at her hip.
A young boy stood before her. A boy who looked like the decapitated statue she had just seen.
Aniwa froze at the sound of her older sister's voice but the rabbit she stalked bolted into the nearby woods. It disappeared into the dark shadow that covered the forest floor. Aniwa straightened and looked toward the village. What now? Despite the dim skies, it was still two hours until full dark, plenty of time to get tomorrow's supper and return to the cabin before curfew. The ground rock on the path grated and Rusk's shrill voice cut through the stillness as she called again.
"Aniwa, you little rat. Where are you?" Rusk was closer now, a dark figure that grew more distinct as she approached.
Aniwa dropped to the ground and crawled around to the other side of the prickly berry bushes that lined the small clearing. She hadn't spent any time voluntarily with her sister in the past two moons and she didn't intend to start now. Nothing good would get Rusk to leave the village this close to gathering time. Aniwa stilled her breathing and strained to hear her sister's movements. Unable to hear anything, she risked a look through the dried leaves.
Rusk had left the path and climbed up the steep incline toward Aniwa's hiding place. She climbed slowly; two wooden buckets brushed against her billowing skirt. Every few steps she would pause to glare at the surrounding wilderness as if she could will Aniwa to show herself. "If you don't come out now, so help me…" She punctuated the open-ended threat with a fierce spin that swung the empty buckets free from her skirt.
Aniwa glanced at the sling she held in her hand and grinned as a wicked little idea grew at the back of her mind. She took a small, smooth stone out of the satchel at her side and dropped it into the leather pouch of her slingshot. Rusk stopped and spun as she scanned the hilltop. Aniwa waited for Rusk to turn away from her, and then she stood, spun the sling twice around her head and let fly with the stone. She heard it hit one of the buckets with a solid thunk as she dropped back to the ground. Without hesitation, she rolled to the left and peered through the underbrush once more.
Rusk yelped, dropped the buckets, then stood there and rubbed her hand. She scowled at the empty countryside around her. "I'm gonna tell Mom that you did that!" Rusk shouted.
Aniwa backed out of the brush and worked her way closer to the woods. Rusk continued to pivot and she shook her hand as if to wake it. Aniwa bit back a pang of regret at hurting her sister. It couldn't have hurt that hard, though; she knew she hit the bucket. Besides, it served Rusk right for being so mean.
"I told Mom not to give you back that awful slingshot. I told her we should burn it."
Aniwa put another rock in the slingshot and waited for Rusk to turn the other way. Then she stood and, after only a second's indecision, whipped the second stone at the nearest bucket. The bucket jumped as Aniwa dropped to the ground and rolled to the right in an effort to keep from being seen.
It didn't work.
Rusk turned and looked right at the wood were Aniwa hid. "You are in so much trouble," she said. She picked up the buckets and walked toward Aniwa. "She's mad at you already because you ran off and didn't stay for chores."
Aniwa stood up. "Chores are boring," Aniwa said. "And I hate having to dress up to do them." She despised the whine in her voice, but she couldn't stop herself. Why did she always sound like a child around Rusk?
"We all have chores to do," Rusk said. "These clothes aren't so bad, either. They're very pretty." She twirled and the multi-colored skirt flared around her.
"They're dumb," Aniwa protested.
Rusk stopped admiring her dress and shot an angry look at her sister. "You just don't like them because they're girl clothes."
"They're dumb girl clothes," Aniwa corrected. "They make it harder to do everything."
"Oh, I don't know," Rusk said, "I find that it really helps in some cases. All I had to do was smile at Dunn and he carried all the firewood from the shed to the house for me."
Aniwa groaned. "Are boys the only thing you ever think of?"
"You're such a child, Aniwa."
"I am not! I'll be thirteen cycles next month."
"Thirteen?" Rusk laughed at her. "That's hardly more than a baby. I think Mom should sell your dresses and buy you diapers."
Aniwa clenched her fists in anger. Rusk was five cycles older than she was and, ever since they'd moved here, she'd become unbearably mean. "I'd rather wear diapers than have to kiss boys to get my chores done."
Rusk's face blazed and her eyes snapped. "What are you talking about?"
"I saw you in the woodshed yesterday."
"You little spy!"
"I wasn't spying." She hadn't been, really. She was just looking for some good sticks to whittle on when she saw them. Two figures in the shadows at the back of the shed. "I did see you, though, and when I tell Mom--"
Rusk grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't you dare." Her eyes were wild and watery and when she shook Aniwa, her fingers dug into Aniwa's shoulders. "Do you hear me? Don't you dare."
Blinking back sudden tears, Aniwa shook her head and a thread of fear laced through her. It was the first time in her life she'd ever known anything that could hurt her sister and that scared her more than Rusk's anger. "No," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone."
Her sister stopped shaking her and just stood and stared at the ground. Unsure of what to do, Aniwa twisted the sling in her hands and waited for Rusk to make the first move.
"Things are different now, Aniwa." Rusk spoke without looking up. "This is different than the Wilds. There are rules we have to obey. Customs we have to follow. This village is now our home. We have to learn to live here."
Aniwa couldn't believe what she heard. "This isn't our home. It will never be our home. Our home is the farm, in the mountains. In the freedom of the Wilds we find our life, our home." She'd grown up singing that pledge. As had Rusk.
"Nothing is free, Aniwa." Rusk looked up. The hard edge of panic in her eyes had been replaced by a shadowy sadness. She reached out and put her hand on Aniwa's shoulder, gently this time. "We will never go back."
"That's not true!" Aniwa stepped back from her sister and shook Rusk's hand from her shoulder. Her own emotions as churned up as Rusk's. "We have to go back. Dad will come for us."
"No." Rusk fiercely scrubbed the tears from her face.. "Dad's dead."
"He's not," Aniwa shouted. "He's just not come back, yet!" There was a roaring in her ears and she couldn't catch her breath. "Mom promised we'd go back. She promised that Dad would meet us."
"Mom lied." Rusk's words were harder than the stones that Aniwa used in her sling. "Do you think she would have left if Dad was still alive?"
"She promised," Aniwa repeated but a small doubt grew at the back of her mind. "Dad's alive and he's coming back." She grabbed her sister's sleeve to force her to agree.
Rusk jerked her arm away from Aniwa and caused the younger girl to lose her balance and fall to the ground. "Believe what you will. I don't care." Rusk kicked at the buckets. "You have to get us water for tonight." She smiled.
It was a mean, small smile and so very different than the Rusk that Aniwa had grown up with. She wondered if the real Rusk was still back at the farm and had been replaced by this evil stranger. This being whose moods changed so violently.
"Since you won't wear proper clothes," the mean doppelganger said, "you will have to go all the way to the river."
Aniwa frowned as she fought to keep up with the changes in the conversation. "The river? But that's too far away."
"It's not that far away, you crybaby," Rusk said. "Just follow the path and you'll find it. Although, you may have to have to run to get back before curfew."
She spun, the bright colors flashed in the setting sun, and she headed back to the village. "When you get home you better tell Mom it was your idea to go alone," she shouted back over her shoulder. "If you don't, I'm going to tell Mom you hit me with stones. You'll never get your slingshot back."
Aniwa watched her sister walk away, then stood up and dusted herself off. Rusk hadn't been so mean before moving here. She hadn't been so mean before Dad... Aniwa couldn't finish the thought.
"Dad's coming back," she shouted after her sister's retreating form. "You'll see, he'll come back."
Rusk never looked back.
After a moment, Aniwa turned and trudged down the path toward the river. Her hatred for this new and horrid world she lived in grew with every step she took down the path. In the five weeks since they'd moved here, Aniwa hadn't made any friends and she could no longer do any of the things that she loved. When she turned thirteen she would have to wear dresses and shoes all the time and would have to join the other of-age girls in daily classes held in the village where they would be trained to be servants and attendants. Her mother had explained that the Training Academy in the village was the most respected and honored academy in the land. She'd said that Aniwa was lucky to be going there.
Aniwa didn't feel lucky. "It's not fair!" she shouted at the quiet countryside.
Her life had been perfect, back on the farm. She didn't want to be anyone's servant. She couldn't stand the thought of spending her life cleaning up after other people who thought they were too good to do their own work. Even worse was the idea that she would have to do so in a dirty, crowded city, far from the woods and hills that she loved. Her dad would return and save her from that. He had to.
Aniwa stopped and looked around. She'd never walked to the river before and was suddenly unsure how far away it was. The village well sat in the middle of the Meeting Square in front of the Training Academy, only a ten-minute walk from their home. Aniwa knew that she could turn around, walk to the well and home again in half the time it would take her to walk to the river. When she looked down at her dirt-covered trousers and shirt, however, she knew she couldn't do that. She'd been warned, the last time she'd appeared in a public area dressed like this, that there would be dire consequences for being 'unseemly and insulting'.
Aniwa had no idea what the 'dire consequences' actually were. Her mother, though, had been called to a special meeting that night and when she returned, she hadn't just been angry, she'd been afraid. She wouldn't tell Aniwa what had been said, but had taken all of Aniwa's hunting and trapping equipment and packed it away in an old trunk. For the next week, Aniwa had been restricted her to the house, where she had to write apologies to everyone who had seen her about town dressed inappropriately. Today had been her first day of freedom from that tedium and she did not intend to jeopardize what little liberty she had left. The river had to be close.
Twenty minutes of walking later, Aniwa could no longer ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would take her twice as long to walk back with two buckets of water. If it were much further, she would never get back to the village before curfew. At full dark, the sentries closed the gates and released the guard hounds. Once that happened, no one was allowed in or out. If she weren't back in time, she'd be locked out in the long, dark night.
Aniwa had spent many nights out under the stars in the past, but she had no desire to do so here. She'd heard the tales of the water sprites and river dragons that were told to frighten the children into being safe at home before curfew. Those tales didn't frighten her. Sprites and dragons were just wild animals, after all, and she had grown up in the Wilds. Animals were simple to deal with. They were to be respected but not feared. No, what frightened her were the demons that walked the Low Lands, hunting for people to capture and devour, the Shadow Wraiths of legend that weren't even whispered about around the campfire.
She peered at the darkening woods that encroached on the path. She didn't want to believe in the wraiths and, while the sun shone, it was easy not to. Now that the sun set, however, the deepening shadows seemed to move from hollow to hollow and the wind in the tree limbs sounded more like a moan than its usual sigh. She shook her head and fought to free herself from the haunting thoughts. A rustle of fallen leaves jerked her attention to a small grass-covered opening that led away from the main path and wound into the trees. A second later a small rabbit scurried out of the woods and down the grass pathway.
Aniwa gave a shaky, quiet laugh. Scared of a rabbit, how stupid was that? It's a good thing Rusk wasn't here to see it. Aniwa watched until the rabbit disappeared, only then did she remember that she should have tried getting it with her sling. Rabbit stew would've gone a long way to earn her mother's forgiveness for not doing her chores.
Aniwa started back toward the river only to stop a second later and look back at the overgrown pathway. She knew what this was. It was the trail to the abandoned WatchTower. If that was the case, the river was still a good forty-minute walk away. She dropped the buckets and fell next to them, unsure if she wanted to cry or scream. She couldn't do it, not even if she ran both ways.
A new, unfamiliar hatred of Rusk burned deep within her. Rusk probably wanted her to get into trouble. Did Rusk know how far away the river was? Did Rusk want her to be locked out of the village?
Her only choice was to go home now, without the water and beg her mother's forgiveness. Perhaps there would be enough time for her to change and go to the village well. She stood, tried to ignore the thought that this was just what Rusk wanted, and turned to head back to the village. As she did so, her eyes fell again on the path that led into the woods and a sudden inspiration struck her.
The WatchTower had to have a well, didn't it? Every WatchTower had its own well and they often provided water for the poorer homes in the community. If the well was still there, she could fill her pails and make it home in time. She scrutinized the dark path, took a deep breath and headed into the gloom. If a rabbit could do it, surely she could. She was braver than a rabbit, right?
Despite her protestations of bravery, Aniwa was happy to see that the woods quickly thinned and a clearing opened up in front of her. The tall, grey walls of the WatchTower loomed up in the center of the meadow, decay and neglect crumbling its once grand design. It hurt Aniwa to see it like this. She'd been to a WatchTower twice in her life, both times for the Reawakening Festival after the first true rainfall in the spring. That had been at a WatchTower two days ride from their farm. Her dad had told the stories of the Breaking of the Worlds and how BreckenHaven had come to be. He'd been so proud of his service to the Council and the Keeper herself had welcomed him into the WatchTower. It was the first time Aniwa had realized that her farther was a man of importance to BreckenHaven: A hero.
This WatchTower was taller than that one. That one ended with two parapets while this one had three. Or at least it had had three, back when it was cared for. Now the top third of the spire had fallen to the ground and the inner rooms were exposed to the elements. Aniwa didn't know why anyone would abandon a WatchTower. Without the WatchTower, there was no place to gather for celebrations and no one to turn to for reading of the word and the law. Her father would never have wanted them to live in a place that didn't have WatchTower, she was sure of that.
The collapsed form of a well could be seen off to the side and Aniwa worked her way over to it, stepping over the scattered ruins that littered a once beautiful garden. She feared for a moment that the well had been filled in, but the cover lay to one side and a rope was still wrapped around the hook. Aniwa unwound it and tied it to one of the buckets. She lowered it into the well and it dropped a good thirty feet before she felt it hit water. She waited for it to fill, then pulled it back up. The water in the pail was clear and cold and Aniwa took a long drink of it. It tasted better than the village water. It took another minute to fill the second bucket and she wrapped the rope back around the hook, ready for the next use.
Aniwa took a moment to get a better look around the abandoned WatchTower. Five small statues stood under a tall tree whose leaves were still green despite the lateness of the season. At first Aniwa had thought that the weathering and the passage of time had damaged the statues, but when she looked closer, she could see that someone had beaten them. Anger flared within her. It was bad enough that people abandoned this place. What kind of person would deliberately destroy its treasures? The head of one of the statues lay half-buried in grass. Aniwa knelt and cleaned it off. The face of a young man stared up at her, his eyes glittered with dark jewels and his ears were broken off.
Another head, this time of a young woman, lay not far away and Aniwa dug it out of the overgrowth, too. As with the boy, the dark jewels in her eyes remained, but the sides of her head were chiseled away. A bright flash of color caught her attention and she saw that a thin ribbon was attached to neck of the girl statue. When she tugged at it, a deep red stone swung free of the debris. It glittered in the dying light and, when it spun, it looked almost liquid. Aniwa set it back in the grass next to the beheaded statue. She stared at it for a moment, then picked it up and put it in her pocket. Maybe a gift for her mother would help make amends for the problems she caused. Besides, she didn't think the statue would care.
She stood and took one more look around, trying to see the glory of its past days in the current ruins. Her gaze drifted to the side of the tower, past the overrun gardens to the Remembrance Wall. She walked over to look at the names etched into the smooth, reflective stone. These people died in service to BreckenHaven and the Council.
Those who serve Grace, live always in Grace. She read the words carved into the top of the wall and reached out to touch the names, as she'd seen so many do during the Reawakening Festival. The stone was cool and the letters hard and sharp. She didn't know why but she read all the names aloud and was happy to note that none of them were her father's name.
"Looking for someone?"
Aniwa let out a small scream when the voice spoke from behind her. She spun, pressed her back against the wall and reached for the small dagger that hung at her hip.
A young boy stood before her. A boy who looked like the decapitated statue she had just seen.
