38. Lost Child (Part I)
“Jill, can you head over to the village and get some bread?”
“Why ask me? Jeremy and Citrus take care of food inventory.”
Ruby lay flat on the couch with a knee pointed to the ceiling. Her arm was over her head, and she sounded half-asleep.
“Please,” she muttered loud enough for me to hear.
I finished chopping the carrot and plating the uneven slices.
“I’ll inform Jeremy.”
She didn’t argue. Was she half-asleep? I mean, the sun rose when they got back from Walisburg.
I went to the kitchen and saw Jeremy sitting alone with his head leaning against his fist. He was not doing anything—just staring at the brownish wood with eyes that wandered elsewhere.
I scooted a chair in. He didn’t react. Did he not notice, or did he choose not to notice? Either way, he didn’t respond. I reach over the table, gently tapping his head.
“I’m… awake,” he expressed with a yawn.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“You hungry?” He sounded like a mourning corpse.
“No. I’m informing you that Ruby would like you to go to the village to get bread. We’re running low.”
“Later…”
He isn’t going to do it later, I thought.
“Are all of you this tired?”
He didn’t respond. I lowered my head to get a better angle of his face. Just as suspected, he had closed his eyes and breathing lightly.
I left the kitchen.
There was no point in waking him up.
Should I even bother asking Harley? She must’ve been asleep as well. I shouldn’t wake anyone up. I had to do this myself.
It was irritating. I could be training, but instead, I’m on an errand.
While kicking at the fact that I shouldered his job, someone bumped into my waist.
“Jilly!”
“Call me Jill.”
“Jilly better.”
No matter how hard I tried, he never listened. Seriously, he’s almost eight, and he acted like this. Was maturity not a thing here?
“Oh, hello, Jill.” She raised her skirt and bowed with a giggle.
Never mind, maturity still existed.
“Well, hello there, Katie.” I couldn’t return a bow of my own because of the tight pants I wore that stuck to me uncomfortably, so I casually gave a gentleman's bow.
That lit her face up. “Do it again!”
“A-Again?”
“Yes! You looked so cute!”
The way she spoke reminded me of a certain someone.
I waved my hands, but before I spoke, someone barged words of their own.
“Katie! Quinn!” she huffed and puffed her way here. Qu—Quit running away from me.”
Quinn playfully jumped onto Randa, who was bent over, gasping for air. Once she collected herself, she straightened up and fixed her glasses.
“Oh, pleasure seeing you here, Jill.”
“Likewise.”
“Would you like to switch spots with me?” she joked, shielding her teeth with a finger. “Anyways, take care. Okay, let’s collect flowers for Uwayna.” She guided the two children away from me and headed in her own direction.
Randa was Quinn and Katie’s primary caretaker. She constantly monitored the two, who were always together. Like intertwining roots, Quinn and Katie were inseparable. They did everything together: eat, play, occasionally have sleepovers, and run around camp during bonfires. Everyone enjoyed their presence. How could you not smile at two best friends having fun? It was impossible.
I exited Ruby’s cabin and camp and headed to the village. I could’ve taken a horse, but oh well. It wasn’t like I had to be there urgently.
The sun peeked through the branches. I could’ve used this yesterday.
Spring rode through on a tender breeze on these lands where winter refused to give without a fight. The fragrance of the fresh air soothed the terrain. Occasionally, it rained both water and mild heat. Some days, a blanket of clouds loomed as if winter had taken control. Those days, though, were sporadic. The brownish ground hid underneath the swathes of wavering green. It was an ocean of vibrant colors that reminded me of my missed time in the outside world.
“You're pondering too much.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” the thingy said.
“Do you suggest anything else? I mean, walking in silence is quite boring.”
“I have enough energy to chat. Perhaps we can discuss future plans?”
Discuss future plans, huh? It wasn’t an absurd suggestion but a strange one. If the thingy knew me so well, what was there to discuss verbally?
Either way, I didn’t have anything better to do.
“Am I ready to go back to the house?” I asked, gazing at my reflection in the blade.
“Ready in the sense of potential success? Not quite”
“What other ‘sense’ is there?”
“Potential failure, of course.”
That remark made me scoff. “Why in the world would I prepare for failure?”
The thingy paused, probably fishing for something to say. In the end, I got a headscratcher of an answer.
“Ignore my peculiar thoughts.”
I looked at nature unamused. It was negligent of the thingy to say something important and toss the words aside like garbage. How were the thingy’s thoughts peculiar, though? Maybe it doubted itself? I didn’t have the slightest clue.
I didn’t bother asking, which threw off the thingy.
“Your lack of interest is concerning.”
“Meaning?”
“Do you not consider failure a possibility?”
Didn’t it say to ignore its peculiar thoughts? So why did it pursue the path it wished to ignore?
Either way, I answered. “A shooting star doesn’t fly. It falls. To wish on something that is falling, I wonder what that does to the wish. Someone dear said that a while back. At the time, I’d never seen a shooting star, so I had no clue what she meant. I still have never seen one. Apparently, they’re stars going on a journey. Because they aren’t alive and have no control over themselves, where they go is wherever fate brings them. If fate leads them crashing into another star, then I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I, however, a shooting star with a conscience, will not lead myself into failure. If I crash into another star, I won’t blow into pieces. I’ll push forward until I redirect fate itself. To wish on something that is falling and to consider failure; they’re symmetrical.”
“You’ve completely lost me.”
“I lost myself, too.”
The outskirts of the village were in sight. All I needed was bread, a simple task thrown onto me. The reason was unknown. Maybe Ruby was too exhausted to search for someone, and I happened to be right there. It wasn’t like I could ignore her as well. If I did, a brief gust of regret would brush across my shoulder, its weight light as a feather but annoying as a mosquito.
I found the local baker and bought nine loads of bread. He asked about Citrus since he usually ran the food supply. I explained how he was napping, which was a lie. I didn’t even know where Citrus was.
When I arrived back at camp, everyone was gathered in one area. Everyone.
There were a hundred and whatever people outside Ruby’s working tent. Was there an important meeting? No, that couldn’t be. Why would there be this many people?
A pair of cries ripped through the tent as if it was nothing. What in the world happened?
Someone tugged my arm from behind. It was Randy. His serious demeanor sent my heart pounding faster than usual. Maybe it was because of the already built-up crowd?
“Go inside,” he said. “They are waiting.”
Was I in trouble? Was this because I didn’t go to Walisburg? Really? No, that couldn’t be. Something must have happened.
I nodded silently and stepped inside the tent. Ruby had her elbows on the table with her fingers interlocked. Her face looked awful, especially her eyes. What was that in the corner? Was that a tear?
Nadia, Lex, and Alexious sat in their respective seats. Lex and Alexious were silent, which wasn’t normal. Their faces didn’t hint at a joke. Dead silence emerged through them both, making my heart pound even faster.
In the corner, Harley was comforting a woman and child. The woman had short, black hair that resembled a man’s hair. I could only tell she was a woman by her figure. She sheltered her face into Harley’s upper chest, her cries brimming with despair and agony. Alongside her was a smaller child—a familiar one. I spoke to her today.
It was Katie. Katie and the women cried while Harley attempted to calm them down.
I looked over to Ruby, who was visibly shaken.
“What happened?”
Her fingers shield her mouth. She locked contact with me, then buried her face into her palms. I could tell she held back her screams. She wanted to cry, but as a leader, she must stay strong no matter what.
She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at it. Ruby looked blood-hungry as if she was plotting something malicious.
Just when I was about to repeat myself, she spoke, though her words were too low to hear through the screaming corner.
“Meaning?” I asked.
“They took him,” she said louder. “They took Quinn.”
“Huh?”
“The Three Heads of Despair took Quinn. They kidnapped my son.”