Sai stomped back toward the common area shared by Inartan children, glowering at adults who demanded deferment in the warrens. It was the snarl of ineffectual bitterness, unjust anger seething in the shadows. Daggers pointed at the dirty food perched between dirty fingers. Addy hadn’t been feeling well, she kept asking for solid food but the nurses insisted that it would be a waste to give her solid food while she continued to vomit. Cabbage soup was less of a squander.
Cabbage soup wasn’t what she wanted.
Knowing the immensity of the task ahead, the little soldier pivoted on a heel and headed back to the kitchens. Covertly, she rinsed the meat off in the communal washbasins and procured a tray. Shouldering in next to a group of her peers, she nibbled on the edge of the roast. Across from her a freckle faced trap prodigy stared over his bread and broccoli dinner.
“Where’d you get that?” he asked, drawing the attention and momentary pause of voracious children. She hunched in protectively, self-conscious of her small stature and those jealous, scrutinizing glares.
“It doesn’t matter where she got it,” cut in a prematurely matured voice further down the table. The bulky boy knew enough to know that one didn’t ask a kid where they got food they weren’t supposed to have. His advice fell on hunger-deafened ears.
“You’d better share.” Freckle Face swelled in stature and she was mildly surprised by the ready show of threat.
Sai glanced around the table, gauging what parts those flanking her would play. Just as the perpetually sneering girl next to her reached out to take the meat, the lanky girl next to her caught her wrist and shook her head.
“However she got it, it’s hers. Don’t act like a Drudge.” The interfering girl, no older than her table-mates but possessing tranquil confidence, released the bully’s hand and included everyone in her advice before returning to dinner.
“I’ll trade you.”
“I’ll arm wrestle you.”
“Pick me, it’s big enough for both of us to split it.” Voices chimed up.
Sai breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that Ginny’s interference would put an end to her ruse.
“I’m not really in the mood for meat, I’ll take your bread and vegetables.” She could have kicked herself. Who was ever not in the mood for elk? The other kids didn’t seem to notice the weak lie and grunted their disappointment. Freckle Face plucked the roast from her tray and ripped of a chunk with his teeth. When she went to take his tray, his disproportionately large hand slammed over hers.
“It’s been a long day, I’ll pay you tomorrow.” Food continued to be shoveled into mouths, even as green and blue and yellow eyes swiveled collectively to watch the continued drama.
Stymied, Sai deflated. It would have been better to offer up the kicked around meat to her sister than return empty handed.
Ginny’s cold gaze bore into Sai, and the smaller girl squirmed for a moment. This was now no one’s fight but her own.
To be weak was to be dead.
To be weak was for Addy to be dead.
Ginny’s fingers flicked at her tray, playing what appeared to be an absent beat. Ginny’s round eyes rolled down the back of Sai’s sweat slickened neck.
To be weak was to kill Addy.
“No. Pay up now.”
“No.” His palm ground down on the delicate bones of her hand.
“Come on, we made an agreement.”
“Later, squirt.”
Squirt. Nonchalant, sure in his superior physicality, brushing her off like feathers. The corner of the heavy tray caught him in the mouth, ripping out and flinging blood and teeth in a shower. Kids vacated the premises, disgusted at the boy’s fluids touching him and dealing with their own flaring tempers at ruined meals.
Sai was on the table, knee in mashed tubers and knocking dishes aside. She used the contortion of his body between table and bench seat to trap him as she grabbed him by scruffy red locks and smashed his face into mountain stone. Tresses proved too weak, slipping from her grasp, ripping from his scalp, and she vaulted over his head to alight on the ground behind him.
Their scuffle was lost in the shadows of the corner of the hall, the children’s tables paid little mind by the rest of the starving diners. Almost lost, one of the children’s overseers caught sight of it and hurried from across the chamber.
In the meantime, one of the boy’s long arms swept out behind him and struggled to get her weight off so that he could unfold from the table. Tenacious, the little monkey soldier, clung to his back and jabbed one bony fist into his side, quickly learning that the soft part between rib and hip was especially painful for him. She laid into it.
A shout echoed behind her, and she knew time was now of the essence.
“I’m going to take my food now,” she grunted to him in between jabs. He sobbed bloody, toothless gasps, nodding. Spitting on him, she reached for his loaf and broccoli stalks. Scrambling between the annoyed gathering of her tablemates, the monkey soldier disappeared into the warrens.
She wouldn’t just get away with that and headed straight for the Dreaming Lady. Despite the bond between the eldest Tisserand girl and the warren rat, few realized what such a friendship would mean. That, yes, the vicious child would be welcome within the decent, honorable establishment. And had to associate with the Tisserands for such a friendship to exist. Preposterous, right? |