Page 4

It didn’t take long. He ran out of breath, hindered by the gag. He was too busy trying to run to remove it. When he stumbled in the forest, I was quick enough to catch him before he could get hurt, settling him on his feet without holding him back. He spun around to glare at me again, his chest heaving with his breaths.

“Want me to remove that?” I asked, pointing at the gag so he knew what I was speaking about. His glare never wavered, and he reached to untie it himself, only to give up moments later. He turned around and crossed his arms, waiting for me to remove it for him. Uttin had tied it quite tightly. I bit back my irritation at my clan brother. Uttin was not patient. It was not in his nature. He was pushy because, most often, he had to be in order to keep the townsfolk in line.

Once the gag was removed, I waited. The male would either try to run again or be too tired to continue.

In an unsurprising move, he took off again. What surprised me was when he tripped a moment later, landing with a yelp on the ground. I grimaced. It was too dark to be running around in the forest. He would only hurt himself.

Stepping over the root he tripped on, I squatted down beside his ankle, touching it gently. He hissed and jerked his leg away, but it did not feel bent in any odd fashion. It could be a sprain. I’d need to take him to the healing tent to be sure.

“Do you wish to run again, or shall we go back?”

I knew he didn’t understand me. Even if he did, I assumed he’d be too stubborn to answer. For tributes like these, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

“I will take you back now. We will see a healer for your injury.”

I scooped him up before he could protest, heading for the village again. Rath stood nearby, as he usually did when I was chasing down a tribute. He was the best hunter in the clan, and could see danger coming before I could. I understood thewildness of man. He understood the wildness of the creatures he hunted. It was his expertise I needed while chasing someone through the forest.

The little male in my arms grumbled under his breath, but did not fight my hold. He was more delicate than I was expecting. He fit in my arms like a female would, and underneath the sweat and dirt from the journey, he smelled of flowers, too. It was not something I’d experienced before, and I found myself curious. What else made him so different from the rest?

Three

SIMON

Iwas still pissed when the giant barbarian sat me down on a pallet of blankets in a large, well lit tent. The middle was open enough to allow the smoke from the fire out, but not too much heat. It was warm, and after days of trying to escape on the stupid journey here, the warmth made my body heavy with fatigue. I hated it. I needed to get out of here. I was going back to my city, and then I was going to skewer Tomas for doing this to me. There wouldn’t be a recognizable piece of him once I was through.

A woman and a man came inside. The woman had an infant tied to her back in a way I’d seen some women do in the city when they had chores and other things that required both hands. The babe was asleep and seemed unbothered by her movement. The man was obviously not a barbarian, based on his size alone. He looked smaller than me, which was saying something, and he had no muscles to speak of. They both chatted idly until the woman noticed our presence and stopped.

“Feigrind? Is everything alright?”

“The tribute fell and hurt himself,” the barbarian said smoothly. “It does not look broken, but he might need it wrapped.”

I was pretty sure, from the way the barbarians had spoken to me and the other tributes thus far, that none of them expected me to understand them. And I wasn’t about to give that fact away before I had to. I knew enough of the language to get by from servicing a nearby clan to our town, and I wanted as much information as I could get before showing my hand. Maybe one of them would let slip the fastest way out of here.

While the woman knelt beside me to check my ankle, the man behind her turned his attention to me and smiled softly. “I know you must be scared, but I promise, you’re safe here.”

He spoke in the common tongue, probably to better soothe me. It didn’t work. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

He startled at my sharp tone, looking almost frightened by it. Which was ridiculous, considering I currently couldn’t move without pain shooting up my ankle.

“I, uh… I’m Finn. I’m the clan scribe. I’ll be teaching you and the other new tributes the language and the way of life here. So that you can better?—”

“No, thanks,” I interrupted. “I’m not staying.”

He grimaced, obviously uncomfortable arguing with me. Good. Maybe he’d go away, then.

“I know it feels like the worst place in the world to be, but they’re actually really good people. Those rumors?—”

Were irrelevant. No one was forcing me to do anything. I’d cut off their balls if they tried. And I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else manipulate me into thinking I had to stay.

“I’m not interested. Go sell your little speech to someone else.”

The woman stiffened and looked up at me with a severe expression. “Do not treat him that way. He is only trying to be kind.”

I gave her a flat look. “I was stolen from my home and handed off to be a bed warmer to a bunch of savages. Do I look like I care about his kindness? Unless he’s offering to bring me back home, I don’t give a shit what he has to say.”

She shot a look at the barbarian, switching to his language. “You’ve got your hands full with this one. Rest and elevation. It doesn’t need a wrap. Be careful that he doesn’t attack you in your sleep.”