Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) (15 page)

Rook pauses, his dark eyes searching my face. And nods.

Arjun sits behind me, supporting my body with his knees, and I tell them about my mother, about being left Outside. About Berg saving me.

“The Mistress found us. I think, even then, she knew what she would ask. I was tiny, and that in itself was attractive. I was alive, and that was unusual—because the small are targets Outside.”

I took a deep breath. “Those first few months, she spent teaching me. Long hours in the greenhouse, learning the best way to clip a flower. Running and lifting improvised weights with Berg, to build my strength. She made me sleep in the garret for months to teach me to get over my fear of heights.”

“Why?” Rook demands.

“Starrbriars,” I say simply, snapping one off and twisting it between my fingers. Sap runs down my fingers, sticky and intoxicatingly fragrant. I hate the tingling warmth of it, and yet—it feels like home. The familiar feel of suspension, the bruising force of the water. The feel of Berg’s arms, when I was safe again. Memories—nightmares—rise from nowhere at the scent.

“Is that the name?” Gali asks, and it jars me.

“That’s what the Mistress always calls them.”

“How often do you harvest them?” Rook demands.

“Spring and fall. Every year—she lets us scour the cliff face before she sends one of us over. I went twice every year until I was eleven.”

Arjun makes a noise of protest, and I pat his arm, absently. My gaze focuses on Rook. “How does the garden help you?”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “Something in the sap. We don’t know for sure. But if one of us has injuries—serious ones—and they sleep in the starrbriars, it helps. It draws out poison, and it heals. We don’t know why. And,” his gaze sharpens on me, “didn’t know anyone else knew at all.”

“Liar,” I say, giving him a mocking smile. Rook stiffens, and Gali’s eyes widen. I push on. “You thought she did, or you would have turned me out of the pack days ago. Its one of the reasons you had Arjun patrolling the Shield.”

He laughs, surprising me. “Very intuitive, my dear.”

Arjun jerks, jostling me. I bite back the pain as he demands, “Rook, what are you talking about?”

“Before I formed this pack, I knew a ban-wolf. An older one I called Greys, who seemed to know everything about the Commission. Things even I didn’t know, after a career with the Keepers. He taught me, secrets and rumors, and the best way to survive.” Arjun nods, and Rook sighs. “When Greys was dying, he told me a story. About a woman who had been Stripped and put Outside. A geneticist who, Grays said, was looking for a cure.”

Gali jerks to her feet, stalking away. Rook moves, so fast it shocks me, catching her. “Stay. Listen.”

“No,” she snaps, and her voice is something between a growl and a cry. “I’m not listening to this. I’ve accepted this life. I
can’t
entertain these ideas. They’re delusions, and we all know it. Even you!”

I am stunned. Gali is so gentle, lively, and warm. But here, her claws are gleaming in the half-light, her stance defensive, her tone trembling with anger and fear. She looks, for once, like a ban-wolf. A dangerous wild animal. Rook stares at her as if she had slapped him.

“She doesn’t have a cure,” I say into the awkward silence. All eyes slide to me, and I clear my throat. “I don’t know what she
does
have—she spends weeks in her study after we harvest the starrbriars. Every year it’s the same. But if she had a cure—or anything that could help you, she wouldn’t have it locked away in the Manor.” I say this confidently, and only after the words hang in the silence does it occur to me: do I
know
this? Is it really true—how much of what I know about the Mistress is true, and how much has been fed to me? And what does Berg know?

I banish the thoughts before I carefully stand in Arjun’s arms, and face Rook and wonder if he sees my doubt.

He is watching me, Gali standing forgotten behind him. “But it’s possible?” he asks, hoarsely. “She works on
something
.” Gali makes a broken sound and bolts, vanishing from the garden in a cloud of crushed flowers and intoxicating fragrance.

I shrug, keeping my face blank. “I suppose anything is possible.”

**

I’m shaky and weak when I wake up. A ban-wolf I don’t know is sitting against the wall, his legs propped in front of him, and for a moment, his dark eyes look like the sky.

“Berg?” I whisper.

The ban-wolf stirs, looking at me and shakes his shaggy head. “Who is Berg?” he asks lazily.

I blink and the resemblance fades. He is just a ban-wolf with eyes like Berg. And only in color—there is something detached and cynical about his gaze that disturbs me. "A friend," I answer, sitting up with effort.

He makes a non-committal noise and I cock my head at him, suddenly wary. "Who are you?"

This is the first time I have seen another ban-wolf since my fever broke, and I wonder if it means something—does Rook have no more use for me?

"I'm Merc," he says, smirking, "Arjun is on patrol for another few hours, and asked me to stay with you."

I blush, looking away. Something about the emptiness of his eyes is disturbing--almost as if he is deliberately refraining from judgment.

"Oh."

"You come from the House, by the Shield,” he observes lazily. I glance at him, and nod. He offers me a dreamy smile. "I like the House. It always seems so warm and welcoming."

I'm not sure what to say, so I simply nod again and he seems content to lapse into silence. I wonder what he would do if he knew how uncomfortable the Manor could be. How filled with secrets our halls are.

Not that I will tell him. That is our business, not the pack’s.

"Why did Arjun ask you to stay with me?" I ask, in part to distract myself. He looks at me, and I clarify, "You, in particular, I mean."

"I suppose, because he trusts me," he says at last, his lips twitching. "I was his patrol partner, when he ran the Shield,” he adds, as if this is common knowledge.

Perhaps it is, I think. There is so much that I don't know about Arjun. So much he doesn't know about me. I sigh, and Merc stands, coming to my bedside.

"Jade says you are to go to the pool today. Would you like me to take you?" His voice is neutral again, but this time it does not disturb me. My instincts have calmed, and Arjun trusts him—enough to leave me in his company alone. He must be safe.

Merc ambles beside me as I half stumble toward the pool, his hand steadying me as I need it. He is quiet, and I am thankful—much as I would like to question him, it is nice to be quiet, and I need my concentration to stumble my way through the darkness.

I smell the pool before we reach it—the warm, slightly rancid odor of watery sulfur. My nose wrinkles, and for the first time, I look up at Merc.

"Does it smell bad to you?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "Horrible. Jade says it helps—and I've seen it do so. But the stench is in your fur for weeks. I don’t think it's worth it."

I laugh, and he grins at me, a flash of teeth in the darkness. His hand grips my arm fiercely as I sway. "Almost there, Sabah."

I blink at him, and he gives me a half-smile. "Arjun did tell me your name, before he left. He may be an animal, but he has his manners."

I make a face, and he laughs, a great shaking noise above my head. It pleases me that I have amused him. Maybe more than it should. I am finding it increasingly easy to be with this ban-wolf.

I am so lost in my thoughts that I do not realize we are at the pool until Merc's grip on my arm tightens. I glance around at the dark gleam of water lapping at my bare feet—it's tantalizingly warm and I want desperately to sink into it.

"Um," I say, realizing for the first time that Merc is male, and I am not getting in the sulfur pool in my only clothes, or changing into a shift with him present.

“I’ll wait outside,” he says, smiling lazily. I can’t help the laugh that escapes as he ambles away.

I strip out of my loose dress and underclothes, pulling on a thin shift before I sink into the water with a sigh of pleasure. It tingles, the heat prickling and soothing at the same time. The tension filling me drains slowly, my shoulders relaxing, drooping. I know I should think, consider all that Rook has told me--and what I have pieced together. But with the watery warmth engulfing me, it's impossible to do anything but close my eyes in the darkness, and relax.

I float for a time, using my hands to support myself. Far too soon, my arms are weary, reminding me of my wounds. The rock forms a natural step and I rest against it. The water has worn away the rock, smoothing the stone so that it is a comfortable place to sit.

I lean my head back, my eyes closing as a moan slips from me. My muscles are sore from tension and the ache of sickness.

"Sabah?" Arjun’s voice startles me so badly I slip underwater in my splashing. I come up choking and coughing. He is crouched by the pool, a shadowy shape I can barely make out. "I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is so full of contrition, I cannot help but believe him.

"I'm fine," I croak. I peer into the darkness behind him, looking for Merc. "Where is...?" I trail off.

"I went to your room when I returned from patrol. You weren't there, so I followed your scent to the pool. Since I'm here, you don't need Merc—I sent him to sleep," he explains.

"I like him," I say without thinking, and am startled when a growl slips from Arjun. I stare at his shadowy form in surprise, and then laugh. "No. He's just nice—I didn't expect that, not from the way you and Gali have been hiding me away from the pack," I explain.

He relaxes, and huffs a little. "They're good people, pet. But they’re hurting right now. We aren't a large pack, and everyone feels the deaths. Even though they know it's not truly your fault, having someone to blame is novel and welcome--it makes it easier to not blame themselves."

"Why would they blame themselves?" I ask, confused.

He sighs. "We all do recon--except for Jade and her apprentices. Any one of us could have found a hibernating bear in our territory. It would have been easier to deal with--less of us would have been at risk--if we had chosen to deal with it while it was still sleeping,” He pauses. “It
should
have been found.”

"But it
should
have been still sleeping," I object.

"Yes." He nods—my eyes are beginning to adjust, and I can see a more defined shape of white. "It was bad luck—that's what it essentially comes down to. But that does not make it easier for us to accept."

His voice is soft, full of remorse and guilt.

I change the subject, pulling his mind from such dreary thoughts. "Have you eaten?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I came straight to you."

Now that I take the moment to smell him, I know that it's true. He smells a bit wilder than usual--a slightly earthy, sweaty smell that permeates the air, above the reek of sulfur.

"You need a bath," I say, tugging at his foot.

He resists. "Sabah."

For the first time, I remember I am almost naked in the pool. The darkness of the water hides me, and my flush. I turn away, a little. "I'll stay on this side of the pool," I offer, slipping to the far side.

He still hesitates, and I feel a tendril of panic--does he not want to get in? "Or you can go bathe on your own, and meet me in my cave later," I offer, so low I am not sure he can hear me.

He laughs, a quiet, self-mocking sound. Then I hear the soft rasp of leather being pulled against fabric, and the weapons belt he wears clatters against the stone floor. I shiver as he steps gracefully into the pool, ripples splashing against my sensitive skin.

I wait for him to surface, and gasp when something tickles my leg. He comes up, inches from me, and I am suddenly panicked—how much can he see with his enhanced vision in the dark? My wet shift seems suddenly much thinner.

"You should rest," he says. I strangle a laugh, so tense I feel close to breaking as he says, "Go, sit. I'll stay over here."

I swim to the rock seat and perch there, acutely aware of the flow of water—and the silk touch of his hair where it brushed against my skin. I flush, and look into the water, black in the darkness.

"Where were you today?" I ask.

There is a grin in his voice as he splashes water—something he
has
to be doing for my sake. He's too graceful to make that much noise unless it’s deliberate. "Did you miss me?"

"No," I answer immediately and he laughs.

"Liar," he teases.

I growl, doing a startlingly accurate impersonation of him and it earns me another laugh. But--finally--he answers my question, his voice serious. "I had to do recon. Rook wanted to know how the Manor is faring in your absence."

Chills chase their way down my spine, and I can't breathe for a moment. "Why?"

His voice is quiet, understanding. "It's not just your home, pet. It's the home of Kathleen Lawson, and she's doing
something
in there that we need to know about. We can't ignore that, not even for your sake. I wish we could."

I can hear in his tone that he's being honest--he would do this differently, if he could. But in our world, feelings such as mine rarely factor into equations, and I understand it.

"How are they?"

He makes a noise of disgust. "Berg hasn't been hunting—his bait lines are full, and ignored. The meat is going to waste, which is irresponsible. The snow on the ground seemed undisturbed, but I could hear the children. They were subdued, but well,” he sighs. “I would say they miss you.”

That makes me feel better—and guilty. I haven't thought about the children much since finding myself in this strange world of secrets and ban-wolves. A surge of worry fills me as I think about them now. With me gone, who is taking care of my children?

"And the Mistress?" I force myself to ask.

He hesitates. "I saw her. In your rooftop room."

The garret. She doesn't spend much time there—unless it is with me, or when she is upset. A pang goes through me, and I cannot stifle the sob that escapes. How can I have forgotten them so easily?

Water rolls against me, splashing my throat, and then he is there, his claws gentle on my shoulders as he says, "Sabah?"