Chapter 7.
Sacrifices.
Owen's grip tightens on my arm. I notice the look on his face as he watches them.
He's livid, and I think I understand why. From what I know, the people here do love their leaders.
It seems a bit odd that they'd put all of their trust in them, though. Maybe its just me but I wouldn't trust them with everything I had.
I'd still be a bit cautious every now and then, but I guess if you grew up here from birth and were raised that way...
Never mind.
"Owen," I softly whisper, "are you ok?" I quickly realized that I just felt sympathy for this moron.
What's even worse is he doesn't seem to have noticed. He's still watching them with this death glare of his.
He turns and looks at me after a few seconds, "Huh?" I turn my head as if it were nothing.
"Ok then.. Look, we need to find out who they're sending," he tells me.
"How do we do that," I ask, "Shouldn't we just wait on them to say it themselves?"
He shakes his head, "No, they've moved on from that. Once our chief says something, we have to obey it. So do they.
But what we need to do is we need to find someone who might be able to ask for us."
I tap his shoulder as he attempts to direct his attention back to them, "Why can't I do it?"
He chuckles, "You're in no position to confront any of them with your stupid questions. You're a peasant to them.
As I said before, there are our kind, our enemies, and then the outsiders. You're an outsider. You're nothing to anyone here."
This grown boy is acting like a stubborn little child and I am about sick and tired of it.
I jerk my hand out of his wrist and sit on the opposite side of the small ledge we've been camping at by the window.
I can't necessarily get down myself, and if I did then it'd make noise. I don't care if he gets caught, but I'd rather remain on
good terms with these people, for a while at least. "I'm sorry," he says, "its just the first time I've had an actual outsider here that made me uneasy and-" "Just shut up and listen," I tell him, quoting what he had said to me from before.
"What is your issue," He asks. I shrug.
We hear a knock echo in the room from the door as a friendly reminder to us that we're being distracted.
Mariah walks into the room and looks at them, "You asked me to come?" My eyes widen, "Are they going to send her?"
He thinks, "N-No.. They wouldn't. She's too young to do anything like that, she.."
The chieftian stands up and looks at her, "Yes, do you remember when you were spoken to the other evening?" She nods.
"Well," he continues, "first we want to let you know we do appreciate what you're doing for us very much.
Besides that, when will you be ready?" She watches in confusion, "Um.. Not for a while, I.."
"Nonsense," he says, "You need not forget our arrangement, Mariah Willman." She shakes her head, "Of course not!"
I clench my fists and jump from the window. Owen tried gripping onto the back of my shirt but his hand must've slipped,
because he wasn't dragged down with me.
I storm into the room, "MARIAH," I shout, "What are you doing here?!" She jumps and looks at me, "Jesus Christ, you scared me.."
The chieftian and the others watch me. I pause. I look at the chieftian, his eyes are filled with excitement.
"It seems our offering has arrived," he says. The others begin to mutter to each other in confusion. "What," I ask.
"This, my friends, is the girl who I was speaking of," he continues, "She is our honored guest!"
I try with all effort to avoid looking to the window where Owen may be, because I know their eyes would follow mine.
At the moment, I was unable to understand what he was talking about.
"Sir," I say, "the people here call me an outsider. I am no honored guest of yours."
He laughs, "No, dear girl. You are a very precious pawn for me to behold. You may be unaware if you are a witch or not, but.."
He stands up, and without finishing his sentence, he looks at Mariah. "We can delay our plans," he says. She nods.
"Mariah Willman, please ****** this young lady out of the room," he tells her, "and make sure she doesn't interrupt again, understood?"
Mariah nods once more and we leave.
As we're walking, her head is down and her hands folded into each other.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything special," I say, "its just I didn't know where you were when I went to ask you something and I.."
She looks at me, "I saw you in the window with him. I know you were eavsedropping. But why?"
"N-Nothing," I tell her, "its just that, when I went to ask Owen where you were, he said he had an idea. He said was going to see what all of the noise was there, so we went. I was dragged along, but still." "Like you were dragged here," she asks.
"Mhm," I confirm. When I look over my shoulder, I see Owen walking behind us. You could barely tell he was there.
Unlike us, he doesn't make a sound when he walks on the wood. He's a shadow to others.
He nods and continues following. I look back at her, "Its chilly this evening, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, I was going to bring a jacket but I was in a bit of a rush, as you can tell," she giggles.
A few "SHH's" are heard, I'm guessing this is the normal around here. In the day time you're quiet, and in the night time you're silenced.
If you attempt to speak, you will be rejected by those who act like they don't have the same behavior when no one is nearby.
"Well," she says as we get back to where I stay, "I suppose this is where I should say goodbye. Thanks for coming to check up on me."
I nod, even though that isn't what I meant to imply from my story. I close the door and I watch as Owen drops into my room by
the window he used last time when he had used his great knowledge to drag me onto a wooden ledge for what seemed like forever.
"Who knew you were such a liar," he says. "Who knew you were such a stalker," I reply, "Other than everyone."
He smiles, "The name suits me well, now doesn't it?"
I shrug, "Maybe. But I'm not sure if you should consider that a good thing."
His smile fades, "Wait wait, you seem to not be acknowledging the issue here.. Don't you remember what he had said?"
"About me being an 'honored guest?' Yes, I know, and I'm not interested in his pathetic attempts of flattery, so don't act jealous."
"I'm not," he says, "What he was saying was not meant for you. It was for the other people there. You're who he wants to send, idiot."
I laugh, "Why would he want to send me? I'm not one of your kind, I'm just-.. an outsider.."
"Exactly," he says, "You would be the perfect to send. You know nothing about us and as far as they know, you know nothing of their intentions on what to do with you. But, why did you go rushing into that room?"
"That girl is a friend of mine. Maybe not a friend, but we know each other," I say. "She's years younger than you," he replies.
I pet his head, "Curiosity killed the cat, Owen. Maybe you should stop wondering about what its like to be nice and actually try it sometime." "Oh? Well, I-.. Wait," he says, "You've learned my name, but I don't know yours. I know you aren't older than I am just by the way you act. But your name.." "I don't know," I tell him, "Mariah, the girl who entered the room, she said I could go see one of the Ethereals and they could find out who I was for me, but.." "NO," he says sharply, "You don't want to do that."
"Well why not," I ask him. "Yeesh," he says, "Cut the attitude, no-name. Look, if you let them figure out everything about you, then they'll know how to keep you in line. People who go there, the Ethereals find out what makes them who they are. I haven't been
to one myself, but I can guarantee that they can use it against you if ever needed. Our captives, when captured they are seen by a group of Ethereals. They find out what they are made of. They then will use something opposite to that to torture them into telling them whatever they want to know. You can't do that, especially now that we know what they want from you."
"Well then what am I supposed to do," I ask, "its not like I have any other way of finding out who I am and I need to know."
"I'll do it myself," he says. I stare at him, "You know how? Are you an Ethereal too?"
"No, but I will help you find out. I know I haven't been the nicest to you lately, but you deserved at least half of it.
Besides that, I need to test my knowledge out on someone. But yes, I will help you." he assures me, "Now rest up, I'll be here early in the morning to get you ready." "Ready for what," I ask. He grins, "We aren't going to let them use you. Not yet, at least."
That evening after he's gone, I find comfort in what he told me.
Perhaps even though we are opposites, we just might be able to get along.
