Nada's Escape

45- Alex.

Finley meets me at Seven's gate with a smile.

"I don't need an escort," I bristle.

"Of course not," he replies smoothly, "I was just looking for some company." Our steps crunch in time on the gravel, sweat working its way down my back.

"So I've been thinking... Who are these allies of yours? Can I meet them?" I ask, thinking about Macie's demands.

"Sure. I can put the word out."

"Are they like a proper rebel alliance or what?" I ask.

"Definitely not. It's just a few people who are more... compassionate than your average Huntsmen. They don't want to overthrow the council, just help those less fortunate than themselves every now and again. There are a couple of wardens not fond of the imprisonment of children. They literally looked the other way when I escorted you to the garden party."

Hmm... so Mildrith and Martin are allies then. "Right, so they're not interested in helping us escape the Huntsmen altogether?"

"No, not really. The threat of termination is enough for these Huntsmen to bend the rules... but not much else. I'm still with you, as much as I can be around all these oaths." He fiddles with the leather bracelet that binds him to the council and a strange melancholy confusion begs for me to reach out to still his movement.

Stepping between the first houses I am distracted as cooler air banishes the scorch of midday. A few more steps and I realise it's still warm, just bearable, unlike the desert heat. The deadly heat of summer according to the calendar on Finley's wall. I realise that must have been the edge of Huntsmen's magic weather shield, the one that somehow keeps the gardens watered.

"Actually, now might be a good time... there's someone who wants to meet you." Finley tells me.

"An ally?" I check with him warily.

"Yes, but if anyone asks we're there to organise some gear for you," he replies.

"What sort of gear?" My interest is piqued at the thought of meeting one of the elusive allies; perhaps another warden?

"Like battle gear. I know it feels like you barely got out of Seven but the council will expect you to learn to fight and eventually complete small missions."

"Learn how to fight," I scoff. Fighting is a necessity, not a skill to be taught. I might even go so far as to say it's a way of life; valuing survival above all.

Finley leads me to a small house made of red brick, just one street back from the marketplace. He knocks politely and the dark eyed woman I'd seen yesterday evening opens the door with a smile. She wears a long, wide-skirted dress in pale green that contrasts with her dusky skin, hair pulled into a knot on her head.

"Finley, and you must be Nada. Nice to meet you. What can I do for you both?" The woman smiles up at me, tranquillity in her eyes. Suspicious at her worm-like conduct, I glance behind her for the warden we must be meeting. Just a short white corridor, vase of flowers at the end by two open doorways.

"May we come in? Is Dagda home?" Finley asks.

"Of course," she offers, stepping back into the hall and leading us into a cosy kitchen. "Dagda's on mission I'm afraid. Can I offer you both some lunch? I was just about to eat myself." Despite my rumbling stomach I clench my teeth at the worm-like courtesy. I don't know why I'm surprised that true Huntswomen act just as soppy and polite as the worms in Seven.

"Actually I have some preparation to do. I'm going to leave you two to it." Finley declines and my eyes flick with anxiety between the two of them. I really don't want to be left alone in this strange house with this worm. Having Finley there was a security blanket I didn't want to need.

"I..." I think to protest but what excuse can I give? I am already taller than the diminutive woman, and she'd said her spouse was out. I am a fighter goddammit, I remind myself. "And you are?" I ask archly.

"Oh of course," Finley steps in, "Sorry. Nada, this is Alex. She's the one who's been wanting to meet you."

"But surely yesterday..." I protest. I'd seen her then, what had stopped her introducing herself?

"The council were about," Alex replies calmly, "They'd be suspicious to see us talking like that out in the open. It's best to keep them guessing."

I give Finley a nod as he bids us farewell and Alex peppers me with questions about my preference for sandwich toppings. I find I can't forego a steak sandwich and a glass of ice-cold orange juice, despite my misgivings. To fill the silence and maintain some kind of control over the situation I start interrogating.

"Are you one of the ones who helped with the ribbons?"

"Yes and no. The ribbons were concocted far from here but it was I who asked Finley to use you as a medium to the other girls." She replies, straightening the kitchen out under calm, slow-moving hands.

"And why are you helping us?" I ask between bites. She gives me a quiet assessment.

"I thought that would be obvious."

I chew hurriedly, urgent to fill the silence. What does she mean?

"I was once brought to Seven. From there my new life began, flourishing into this," she raises her hands, palms upright. "I would hate to see anyone else denied that chance merely by ill fate."

My mind whirled; so Alex isn't a full blood Huntswoman? I struggle to remember how far back Seven had stretched before my own years there. How long ago had the bald teacher said the curse had been laid? A long time... I think, thirty, maybe forty years.

"Seven... how many of the women here came through Seven?" I ask. Alex doesn't seem surprised by the question, though her gaze rests heavy and dark on me for a moment longer than is comfortable.

"There is only one full blooded Huntswoman left, that was born and bred on this continent," she whispers. Shock ripples through me like a gale, blowing aside my preconceptions. All the women in this settlement are human? How have they not risen up and overthrown the council yet?

Then I watch Alex, contented amongst the white laced curtains and orange-patterned crockery and I realise she's not a fighter. If she were, such little things wouldn't be enough to stop her searching for freedom. If she were a fighter she would never have sworn the pledge in the first place.

And that's the core of it I see, with startling clarity, there's a band of worms in Norgara, broken in by the system. This thought threatens to drain all hope from my struggle but I swear silently, to the last remnants of my sandwich, that I will break the cycle. I will not be a worm.