Chapter 3: The Prisoner (cont’d)

Wrenley

Wrenley followed close to Elita’s side. She wasn’t at all ashamed to find herself looking for the fineness that was Finian.

“We have a little bit of everything here,” Elita said. “A forge, a seamstress, bakery, cookshop, sweetshop.” As she spoke, she pointed to various buildings. And sure enough, the smell of each assaulted her nose as they passed, as if when Elita called them by name, their particular scent gathered strength to give Wrenley a blast of familiarity. “That’s the meetinghouse. I know it looks small, but it fits all those interested in the fight.”

“That indicates there are those who aren’t,” Wrenley said.

She shook her head. “No, not everyone is. Roughly a third of the group just wants to live. They don’t care anymore that they were rejected. They just want a life and family, like that of which they were denied in the clans. And they’re fine to do so. They’ll always have a home here with us.”

Wrenley was sure, more and more, that every new detail meant she was missing something. Some underlying element that, once she figured it out, everything would make a whole lot more sense.

“Those buildings, the ones that look like they’re part of the earth, they’re where we sleep. The homes of the village. Unless you’ve taken in with a specific family, then we group together in threes and fours. And, I think, Finian is only in a group of three. We can probably work it that you’re in his den.”

“Den?”

Elita looked at her. “Yea. That’s what they’re called. Dens.”

“For bears. I get it.”

She laughed. “Sure, I guess. I’m so used to the terms we grew up with that I never think about how it came about. But yea, that makes sense.”

Elita led Wrenley to what was clearly the middle of the village. There were five giant totems, the top a different breed of bear on each. She recognized the panda and the grizzly from the stories and could guess that the other three were the Kodiak, Sloth, and Kermode bears.

Curious that they were so hurt over their rejections and yet they still held true and fast to their heritage. Was that normal? She supposed it was. When refugees left a violent place, it didn’t make them turn their backs on their beliefs. Why would this be any different?

In a sense, weren’t they refugees? They’d been shunned from their clans.

Okay, perhaps that was a stretch.

The five totems circled evenly around a large, flat area that was clean, and further in the center was a burnt circle. Since there was no permanent fixture in the circle, she assumed that meant it was a catch all. They used this space for anything they needed.

“Our ceremonial deck. We use it for everything from celebrations to deaths.”

Wrenley looked at her, frowning. “Deaths?”

Elita nodded. “Yep. I believe we have one coming up. They’re bears of the clans we’ve captured in raids or ambushes.”

“Ah,” Wrenley said. Maybe she’d see this prisoner and it would all make sense.

“Leet.”

Wrenley turned at the excitement. Elita had turned, too, her smile beaming as a woman came up beside them and wrapped her arms around Elita.

“You were supposed to check in when you got home,” she chided Elita.

“Sorry. We picked up another rejected along the way. I was showing her around.”

The girl stood back. She looked a lot like Elliot with the long dark brown and black hair and the dark eyes. She smiled when she moved to see Wrenley around Elita. “Hi,” she said.

Wrenley smiled. “Hello.”

“This is Doris,” Elita said. “Wrenley, our newest rejected.”

Doris nodded. “You don’t look like you belong to one of the five clans. Your features are all over the place.”

Huh. “I’m from Outside the clans,” she reiterated. “My rejection was a little different.”

“Like Zel but still a different rejection,” Elita said.

Doris nodded.

“So, I’m going to check in with the rest of my den,” Elita told Wrenley. “Feel free to wander around. There’s not really anywhere you shouldn’t go. We’re pretty open. If you have questions, ask anyone. I’ll find you for dinner and make sure you get set up in a den tonight.”

“Thanks,” Wrenley said, nodding again. She watched as Elita and Doris walked off, Doris taking Elita’s hand as they did.

When they disappeared behind a building, Wrenley looked around. There were clusters of people everywhere, doing various activities. Some where chucking corn while others were peeling potatoes and carrots. She smelt the distinct aroma of fish and assumed that they were being cleaned somewhere for dinner.

At least there wouldn’t be porridge at every meal. She could live with that.

There were kids running around and others just sitting and talking.

She walked away from the center ring in a random direction and headed through the buildings, pausing to study them or observe whoever was around. When someone spotted her, they’d smile and wave.

It could be worse. She could be among the brutal bears, right?

Sighing, Wrenley passed into a part of the village where it no longer looked lived in. Perhaps this was the area where they were expanding into when they grew. It was still covered in sails, keeping the blood dripping from the trees away but there were distinctly less people. And with less people doing things, the scent of the blood became stronger.

She was just about to turn around when a shadow caught her attention. She paused to look at it, studying the shape. Only after a minute did she determine that it looked like a cage. A rather large one.

Elita said there wasn’t anywhere she couldn’t go…

This probably wasn’t going to lead to the answer as to what’s broken in this fairy tale nor why the trees bleed, but she headed toward it anyway. Just before she rounded the corner, the lump in the shadow moved. Wrenley paused.

It wasn’t just a cage. There was someone in it.

When the shadow had stilled again, Wrenley slowly walked around the corner, careful to keep herself quiet.

Sure enough, it was a prison cell. There were five of them; only one having anyone in it. If she had to take a guess, this must be the prisoner Elita had referred to. However, it wasn’t a bear. It was a man.

Perhaps bear was a… metaphor? A title?

She frowned. And the man looked up, as if her frown had been a shout. Wrenley stilled as her gaze met the man’s in the cage. He looked remarkably like Honey, which Wrenley assumed meant they were from the same clan.

But how did ‘bear’ fit in? Was it just their spirit animal? Perhaps it was all a metaphor after all.

The man raised a brow at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wrenley said. “You’re the one in a cage.”

He chuckled. “Yes. And you are?”

“Wrenley,” she answered since she couldn’t see any harm in answering.

“Maz,” he returned. “I don’t suppose you’ve come to let me out?”

“Somehow, I’m sure that would be frowned upon,” Wrenley said. “Though, I don’t blame you for trying.”

Maz nodded, shrugging. “The queen is back so I assume my death will be this evening?”

Wrenley stared at him. “You’re the bear they’ve captured? What did you do?” ‘Queen’ she’d have to come back to another time.

He smiled. “Wandered too far from town on my own. I’m good in a fight but not when the odds are so heavily stacked against me.”

“If you haven’t done anything wrong, surely you can say so?”

Maz tilted his head, amused. His amusement made Wrenley flush. She hadn’t ever been naïve. But she wanted to believe there would be mercy for an innocent life. If he didn’t deserve to die, they shouldn’t kill him. His life shouldn’t be forfeit for the actions of others.

Wrenley turned when she heard her name being called. She glanced back at Maz as he leaned forward, his hand on one of the bars to stare at her with dark eyes. He wasn’t pleading, exactly. But staring, as if he could convince her to see something. To understand something.

“Wrenley,” Elita called, her voice getting louder.

“I’m sorry,” Wrenley told Maz. “I just got here, and I don’t know if I can do anything to help.”

“Why would you help me?”

“I have a feeling that you’re going to suffer at their hands and if you’re innocent, you don’t deserve that.”

“Indeed,” he said, the corners of his lips ticking up.

“There you are,” Elita said, making Wrenley jump. She turned and looked at the girl. She’d come alone. Her gaze didn’t touch on Maz at all as she smiled at Wrenley. “Dinner’s ready. I’ll introduce you to Finian. I was right. There’re only three in his den.” She winked, grinning in a suggestively conspiratory way.

Wrenley tried to smile back as Elita took her arm and pulled her away from Maz in the cell. Wrenley glanced back at the man sitting on the ground, watching her go.

“He’s the prisoner you mentioned earlier?” Wrenley asked when he was no longer in view.

Elita nodded.

“If he didn’t do anything -”

“Wrenley, do you really think they’re going to admit to a wrongdoing when there’s a possibility that you’d let them out if they could convince you otherwise?”

“You think he was lying?” The idea irritated her. Had she been that gullible?

“I don’t know what he told you, so I don’t know if he’s lying. What I do know is that when I was rejected, my entire clan did nothing but watch as I was shunned from my rightful place. The place the sky said belonged to me with their fating. And in my opinion, someone who stands aside and allows a bully to be a bully is just as guilty as the bully themselves.”

A fating? What the fuck was that? Whatever it was, she agreed with Elita’s statement. Allowing someone to do nasty things while looking the other way makes you just as guilty.

She was so distracted by the thoughts swirling in her mind that she was suddenly standing in front of Finian when Elita stopped her. The girl’s grin was back as she nudged Wrenley closer. Far closer than seemed appropriate.

“This is Finian,” Elita said. “He’s happy to let you join his den if you’re interested.”

Talk about being put on the spot. But Wrenley looked up into Finian’s light, bright eyes and caught her breath. He had the same basic features as Honey and Wrenley was sure that these features alone told her more about which clan they belonged to than anything else. Honey had been pretty. Handsome. Finian… he was fucking gorgeous.

“Hi,” Wrenley said.

His smile widened. “Wrenley,” he purred. Yes, he fucking purred. Did bears purr? A flush settled on her cheeks, and she was sure it was going to stay there for the night.

“You two have fun,” Elita said.

Wrenley glanced her way, catching the smirk as Elita left them. Looking up, she found Finian was even more breath taking up close. He wasn’t the superstar model beautiful like Dylan had been. His had more of an organic, natural sexiness. Rugged. Broad. And big.

“Elita says you’re from outside the clans?”

Wrenley nodded.

“Do you like fish?”

She nodded again.

His lips quirked at her silence. Gently, as if he was trying not to spook her, he took her hand. When she let him, Finian led her to a table where he guided her to sit. It was a table for four but open on one side as it faced the ceremonial circle with the totems surrounding it. The tables hadn’t been there when Elita took her through earlier.

There was already food at the table. As soon as the scents assaulted her nose, her stomach growled. Bread and cheese were not that filling, as it turned out. She was hungry.

They’d barely started eating – and it was surprisingly good – when it became apparent that there’d be a dinner show. That was alright. It might give her some insight as to what it meant to be a rejected from the clans.

Until she saw them bringing in Maz. Wrenley froze as they led him into the center, his hands tied in front of him with thick chains. He didn’t fight them, nor did he speak at all. At first, he didn’t look at any of them as he walked but when he was stopped in the middle of the circle, Maz picked his head up and looked around.

When his gaze hit on Wrenley’s he stopped, his lips lifting a little. Probably in how alarmed she was staring at him.

“One of the Aspen Clan, Bear Tower Heights,” Aurelia called out.

All around them, roaring cheers filled the forest, echoing off the trees. She was reminded of a wrestling match, where the crowd was riotous, ready for some bloody action.

Wrenley was terrified that it was going to be just that.

“One less to reject what the skies have fated,” Aurelia hollered above the din. And it got louder in response.

Aurelia smiled and backed away, dropping the end of the chains on the ground. Maz was not being held but the man wasn’t stupid. There was no way he was going to escape.

This can’t happen, Wrenley thought desperately. She looked everywhere, searching for someone who was just as bothered by the prospect of what was going to take place as she was.

But it was already happening. A blow with a nasty looking club hit Maz in the back. He didn’t cry out but grunted as he dropped to his knees. Whatever was in the end of the club (was she really looking at medieval type spikes??), they wedged in his back. The woman who’d hit him had to place her foot on his shoulder and pull the club free.

Maz was forced to his feet again before another woman slammed him, this time with a blunt stick she used as a spear to his chest. Blunt, in that it wasn’t shaped like a spearhead. But jagged as if the stick itself had been broken with sharp points for this purpose alone.

Blood spotted through his shirt.

Wrenley grabbed Finian’s wrist, gripping it tightly. She wanted to say something. To beg him to make it stop. But as Maz suffered another blow, she knew exactly what was going to happen.

They were going to draw this out.

They were going to make him suffer for crimes that weren’t his.

This wasn’t a killing with any other purpose except to punish him.

There would not be any mercy.

Only when he was barely alive were they going to finally allow him to die.

Seven strikes later, Maz was barely remaining on his hands and knees. He was bloodied from head to feet, gasping for breath. Wrenley was sure his lung was punctured by the way he struggled to breathe.

His head spun around as if he were trying to find something. The white light? Was that a thing in fairy tales? And then his gaze fell on Wrenley.

“Don’t believe everything they say,” he muttered, his voice barely reaching her ears. “Don’t take them at face value. Ask deeper questions.”

This time when they slammed the pole into his chest, it went through. Maz stopped speaking as his face seized up.

She was staring so intently, so horrified, that when Elita touched her arm as he collapsed on the ground, she jumped. If Elita’s expression was anything to go by, Wrenley must have been looking at her as if she were the monster.

“I promise you, Wren. The bears of the clans, especially Bear Tower Heights where we picked this one up, are monsters. They’re bullies and demons. All of them.”

“But I spoke to that one,” Wrenley said quietly. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“And any demon worth their weight in gold will be versed in appearing demure and innocent,” Doris said from beside Elita. “The one who rejected me was just like him.”

Wrenley looked back at the broken and bloody body of Maz.

Elita gently pulled her around. She wasn’t sure when she’d gotten to her feet. Wrenley found her face in Finian’s chest when she finally turned her head in the same direction Elita was shifting her – away from looking at Maz. Finian’s big hands gently wrapped around her shoulders. “It gets easier to watch,” he murmured. “But you never have to watch, either.”

“Did you know him?” Wrenley asked.

She felt him shake his head. “I make sure not to attend those killings.”

Wrenley shuddered.

“Want to go to bed?”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted right now. But this just didn’t sit right with her. Her gut said Maz hadn’t lied. And if that was true, they just brutally murdered an innocent man. How did that make them any less savage and bullying than the clans they were rejected from?

As hungry as she thought she had been, there was no way she was going to hold anything in her stomach right now. Unsure what else to do, Wrenley nodded and allowed Finian to lead her away.