Four days and four nights. That’s how long I spend alone. Kassandra brings me food and water. Gabriel probably forbade her from bringing me wine. She even returned my leather bag. Surprisingly, all the contents were still there, even the gold coins Luc gave me.
The entire time I wait for the council’s decision, I only allow positive thoughts. Everything will go as planned. The Bloodstone council will accept me and allow me to stay.
On the fifth morning, the tent flap lifts, and Kassandra beckons me to follow her. I gather my leather satchel and trail the young woman outside.
Sunlight breaks through the clouds and quivers over the center of the camp where the four Malachite men huddle together in chains. Bloodstone warriors loom around them in a wide circle. Luc, Gabriel, and three other men stand at the front of the group.
I don’t need anyone to tell me why we’re here. This is an execution. I have heard about the Bloodstone and their method of choice for killing those who offend them. They always use bows.
My stomach clenches, and ice slips down the back of my neck. Maybe the four Malachites aren’t the only ones the Bloodstones intend to murder.
No!
The clenching increases, squeezing around my stomach, my chest, my throat.
I’m not next.
I will succeed.
Luc raises his hand, and the men fall silent. “Who has a grievance with these Malachites?”
A young Bloodstone warrior with long black hair and a thick bandage around his neck steps forward. “I do.”
“Then you will take the lives of these four men, and you’ll obtain the vengeance you’re owed.”
The Malachites cry out, pleading for mercy.
Luc doesn’t flinch, nor does he sway from his course as he nods at the long-haired warrior and speaks again. “May Olah forgive them. For we do not.”
My heart drops the moment the Bloodstone warrior lifts his bow, nocks an arrow, and aims it at the chest of one of the Malachites.
“Please, I beg you. Have mercy,” the thin man pleads. “I have children.”
The clouds shift, stealing the sun as the Bloodstone warrior releases his arrow, striking the Malachite man in the chest. Blood pours from his mouth as he falls to his knees. One by one, the long-haired man’s arrows hit their marks until all four men are lying in the bloodstained grass.
Bile rises in my throat as the urge to scream overcomes me, to yell so loud all of this disappears. These deaths. These Bloodstone people. This urge to avenge Mother.
Everything I have done since Mother died—abandoning my tribe, training with the mercenary army, seeking out the Bloodstones—was all to prepare for this moment.
It wasn’t enough.
This is real. These Bloodstone barbarians. Their Malachite enemies. The blood staining us all. This is what I have chosen.
Oh, Olah, give me the strength to do what I must.
As the conversation shifts to disposing of the bodies, I wait. Either the Bloodstone people will condemn me too, or they will not. I cannot run. My Fate is here.
After what seems like an eternity, Kassandra turns to me. “Come.”
A relieved breath rushes from my lungs as I raise my hand to my flushed cheeks. I hadn’t realized how hot it had gotten.
She adopts a soothing tone as she speaks again. “Come, Sol.”
It takes everything in me to not look at the dead men, to rotate and follow Kassandra away from that horrible scene. Away from the dead Malachites. Away from not knowing if I’d live or die. Away from the awareness of being different.
Those Malachites were different.
Iamdifferent.
