My eyes returned to her face, and this time, I remained subdued. Looked into the chasms where her eyes should be, eyes that would probably look like her son’s. “You overestimate my contribution.”
“And you undervalue it,” she said somewhat coldly. “One day, you will know motherhood, and on that day, you will understand what you’ve done for me. My son, my leader, my world, lives—because of the courage that burns in your heart. I have little to offer you in gratitude, but I will give all of what I have left.”
My eyes dropped down like the contact was too intimate, but because she didn’t have eyes, it changed nothing. The intimacy of her words was as powerful as Morco’s stare. I still felt the uncomfortable burn of praise I didn’t believe I deserved. “I didn’t save him for you. Or the tribe. I saved him for…for me.”
Morco continued to stare at the side of my face, choosing to look at me rather than his mother. His hand didn’t squeeze mine, but he lightly brushed his callused thumb over the surface in acknowledgment.
“I’m grateful that my son means as much to you as he does to me.”
My eyes continued to focus past her face, unable to accept the horror of what had been done to her. What had been done to all the Elders in that room. Now I hated myself for questioning their hierarchy of labor, not realizing that the Elders were literally blind.
“You’ve provided food for our starving tribe. You’ve healed my son with your botanical knowledge. And now he tells me you’ve made a weapon—a bow. Don’t diminish your achievements, Hanne.”
“I’m not sure if it will work?—”
“It will work.” Morco continued to stare at me. “You will find a way.”
“We always have,” she said. “We always will.”
I looked down at my hand in Morco’s. I slid my fingers between his.
“You’ve earned your place here, Hanne.” She sat still as a statue, like a mountain that wouldn’t bow to the wind. Her lack of orientation in space made her seem more rigid. “And you’ve earned your seat here with me. We have much to discuss.”
I had been touched that Morco wanted to introduce me to his mother, but now I realized that hadn’t been his intent. He wanted me to help him lead the tribe—and that was a far bigger compliment. I didn’t know how to accept their kindness graciously, so I let the silence speak on my behalf.
“We’ve been existing rather than living, and I’m tired of hiding like a rat in the dark. These Depths belonged to us first. We’ve claimed this land as our home, and then they came and poisoned it.” Her hands were together on her knee, her legs crossed, trousers visible under her coat, and her feet bare. “It’s time we take it back. What are your ideas?”
The pressure was suffocating, like a heavy rain cloud that continued to drop rain. “I appreciate your belief in my capabilities, but I’m not a warlord. I’ve never served in an army. I’ve never lived through a battle. I’m just a girl who knows how to garden.”
“And that garden has fed our people. And that knowledge has spared my son a painful death. Knowledge of the surface has provided us with a weapon that our people have long forgotten. Your contributions may feel small to you, but they’re immense to us. Humility is not an admirable trait among the Obsidians.”
“I’m not being humble?—”
“Then you’re being naïve,” she snapped. “Your potential is bright like theapricumthat still burns in my memory. I can see it burn in you. Share your mind.”
I struggled to form words, unable to accept praise that still felt undeserving.
Morco spoke. “Hanne can identify the poisonous flowers. She says we can coat the tips of our arrows and fire them into our enemy. She can also recognize sedatives. We can use that to our advantage as well.”
The muscles in her face shifted, her reaction distinct. “Intriguing.”
“But those flowers will grow in the line ofapricum,” I said. “So, it’ll take careful planning to harvest them.” No one could go in my stead, not when I was the only one who knew what flowers would work.
“I have no doubt you will prevail, Hanne.”
“When I harvested the Pedalium, one of the Knives was there. He was in my way. I only got past him because something flew across the sky…something huge, with wings. Like a dragon, but different.”
Morco continued his hard stare.
“It roared and distracted the Knife. That was how I made it by him unnoticed. What was it?”
“Basilisk,” she answered. “Flying serpents that were here before us. They used to be our greatest predator until the Knives invaded.”
I wished I’d gotten a better view of the flying creature, but perhaps it was best that I hadn’t. A flying snake? No thanks.
“As long as we stay out of their way, they won’t harm us,” she said. “This island has been a sanctuary for us for years. It’s beengood to us. But this settlement was always temporary. The root vegetables have elevated the stew and staved off the hunger, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a piece of fruit that I can no longer recall the sweetness. Once the babies are born, we’ll be unable to relocate for many years. I believe we should head for Stonework now, while it’s still possible. The Knives have settled near the currentapricum. We can retake our fortress, return to our home, and prepare for battle in a way we didn’t before.”
“I disagree.” Morco turned his gaze on his mother. “It’ll take time to prepare the many bows and arrows we’ll need. It’ll take time to train us to use them. Time for Hanne to harvest enough poison for the attack. I admit that new children will make a move far more difficult, but we can’t rush a move when we’re unprepared. What’s more, we have no idea when theapricumwill switch—and it could easily shift to Stonework. They’ll come for us, and if we aren’t prepared, they’ll destroy our line completely.”
