Ryan and Abby’s two children, Dunn and Erik, watch every bit I eat. They hardly touch their food, seemingly content to stare as I eat mine. I’m surprised at how delicious and plentiful the food is. I figured Abbey wouldn’t spare much on me. I go through two plates of beef, sliced potatoes and carrots. I’m not sure when I’ll see food again on my journey. Even when I’m stuffed I force myself to eat a couple slices of bread.

“Are you done?” Abby asks me quietly. She doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Don’t rush the boy,” Ryan says, helping himself to another slice of beef. “If you want, Javin, you can spend the night in the barn and leave at first light.”

Abbey’s head shoots up. “Are you sure about that?”

Ryan ignores her. “I have to apologize for my wife, Javin. These western raids have us all on edge.”

“More than that,” Abbey corrects. “Whenever that alarm goes off and we head into the city, I don’t know if I’ll see my home again. You Forsyth lot are dangerous,” she spits.

I’m not surprised by her sudden venom. “I thought it was the Flatlanders that raided your city.” I’m careful with my words and my tone. I owe this family a lot. Still, I can’t just sit here when she is completely wrong.

“Forsyth, Flatlands,” she says. “It’s all the same. We are just lucky we are so close to Lavasa. Farms further out have been destroyed and people killed. You folk are as good as savages, doing anything to survive.” She taps on the table vigorously with her fingers. I wonder if it’s from nerves or anger. “You attack us because you want your freedom, but without us you’d all die. What about the food the Kai sends you? The supplies? The medicine? If I was in charge, I’d say to gods with you all. The Kai shouldn’t give any leeway. He should tear that forest down and burn the flatlands.”

I don’t respond. I learned not too long ago that it’s pointless to argue with crazy people. It’s pointless for me to tell her the differences between the Forsyth and the west, how we never receive any supplies, how we aren’t involved in any war. Right now food and a good night’s sleep are more important than knowledge. The table is thrown into an uncomfortable silence and stays that way for several minutes. The two kids are still watching me. One of their mouths is open and filled with carrots.

“You eat your fill?” Ryan asks when he is done with his meal.

“Yes, sir.” My plate is practically licked clean.

“I’ll show you the cot in the barn.” He pushes his chair away from the table and stands up.

“Thank you,” I say, trying to sound as grateful as I can. “You’ve both helped me so much.” It’s true. Without them I wouldn’t have made it much further.

The two boys wave stiffly to me as I follow Ryan out of the house. Abbey ignores me and starts to clear the table. I can hear the clatter of dishes from outside the house.

The cot Ryan shows me is in a loft above the horses. He tells me goodnight and leaves me to get some much needed sleep. I settle down on the bed. The mattress is filled with straw and is the most comfortable thing I think I’ve ever slept on. I know that’s not true. My bed at home was filled with goose feathers and wool. That bed feels so far away, it’s almost difficult to remember what it felt like. I pick at the head of a piece of straw that’s poked through the mattress. I rub it in between my fingers until I start to drift off the sleep, the sound of the horses munching their oats and rustling the hay fills the air. I close my eyes and try not to think of home.

I stand in front of a solid wall of darkness glimmering with silvery shadows and sparkling black. Water? Rock? I’m not sure. I get closer to inspect the gloomy wall and a monstrous hand juts out from the darkness and grabs onto my throat. The dark wall fades away, revealing the figure holding me by the neck. The braided man towers over me, all muscle and a fearsome grin. I claw at his arm and my fingers meet flesh as hard as rock. His hand is crushing me. I can feel it cut through my skin, my windpipe. Somehow I am still staring up at him, my body falling away limply from his hand like a doll. A scream sounds. Evan! And then I am falling downward, the ferocious laugh of the braided man echoes around me as I fall and fall and fall.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I wake up gasping for air, my heart galloping. Just a dream I tell myself, wiping sweat from my brow. Just a terrifying dream. I lie back down on the cot. I hadn’t slept for long. The moon, seen through the holes in the slotted roof, is just a little higher in the sky than when I first closed my eyes. I should try to fall back asleep. I can tell that I won’t be able to. Adrenaline is making me antsy. Maybe some fresh air will help.

I get out of the cot and climb down the ladder. One of the riding horses, the tall one, watches me make my way outside. The air is cool, almost chilly. I wrap my arms around myself and walk through the grass. It is a little damp and the moisture feels good against my skin. I take a deep breath of the night air and let it calm me. There is a light on in the main house. I find myself walking towards it without really thinking. I should get back to bed. I pause for a moment when the wind shifts, carrying voices through the open window of the house. I can hear Abbey and Ryan speaking quietly and with urgency. I don’t make out their exact words, but recognize the tone. I am about to go back to the barn, this is clearly a private conversation, when I hear my name.

“Javin?” Abbey says. “Do you really think that is his real name?”

I move closer to the window and duck below it, pressing my back against the house.

“I don’t know,” Ryan says. “It doesn’t matter. He just seems like a kid in trouble.”

“Exactly,” Abbey snaps. “What if he’s here to cause trouble? He might be from the West, here to gather information? The Kai warned us this could happen.”

“Abbey, he’s just a kid,” Ryan says.

“Maybe,” she says. They are silent for a moment. I can hear the soft clucks of sleeping chickens.

“You think I should report him?” Ryan whispers.

I can’t believe my ears. What have I done to these people? They could have just sent me on my way, but they treated me with kindness. I hadn’t been ungrateful either. In the village, city runaways were always welcomed, given food and even new lives if they want them. If they found their way to us and were kind folk, they were let in, no questions asked. What is that noise? I listen more intently. I think I hear a soft sobbing.

“It’s going to be fine, Abbey,” Ryan says. I hear the rustle of cloth. Are they hugging? “If it is this important to you I’ll head for the city now, bring back the guards.” Ryan sighs loudly. “You’re probably right. He could be dangerous.”

“He really could be,” Abbey says emphatically. “I know we are doing the right thing. Do you think it will upset the kids?”

“We won’t tell them. I’ll be back with the guards before they’re up. They won’t even know it happened. I’ll tell them Javin left at dawn. Stop crying, my love.”

I don’t wait to hear if Abbey does stop crying or not. Crouched down I run back to the barn. I learned to move quietly in the Forsyth from my dad. The forest floor is covered in thin branches and dried leaves. Moving over the soft grass, I am a ghost. I enter the barn without starling any of the animals. I’ll just grab my stuff and go. As I look around the barn, I remember that I don’t have any stuff to grab. No food, no supplies and no real idea how long it will take to get to the Delphast. I can’t go to any other farms along the way in case this happens again. I need to move quickly to the capital. The answer is clearly in this barn, but I am stubbornly ignoring it. I’m a good kid, raised to obey the rules. I’ve never stolen anything in my entire life. Never really broken any rules. And here I am being treated like a fugitive. Well if they want a troublemaker, they’ll get one.

Hanging on the wall of the barn in a burlap sack. I grab it off the hook and run back towards the house. I go to the vegetable garden and pull out carrots, heads of lettuce. As I toss them into my sack I hear the door of the house swing open. I lie down on the ground, hidden amongst the vegetation. I can see Ryan walk away from the house towards the city. I watch as he gets further away, closer towards turning me in. I crawl backwards until I am completely out of sight, blocked by the house. Now where else would they have food? I jog behind the barn and get lucky. They have a smokehouse. When I open the door I am overpowered by the smell of salt, blood and flesh. I push the hanging animal carcasses out of the way and rummage through the shelves in the back. I find jerky and throw handfuls into my pack. I stuff the pack as full as I can. It’s much too heavy for me to carry all the way to the capital, but I have a plan.

Next I go to the stables. The cart horses are much too slow. The mare looks sweet, easy to handle. I pass her by. The gelding thrusts his nose into my shirt as I run my hands along his neck. Perfect. I don’t take his tack as a favor to the family. As soon as I saw the horses, I knew they had some money. Four horses and tack was more than even the wealthiest villager could have afforded. I rein the horse with rope, forgoing the bit. A few of the villagers had saddles and brides, but most preferred bareback. It’s how I learned to ride. I strap the sack low to my back with more rope. It will rest on the horse’s back as well.

I’ve always been good with animals. My mom said it’s my demeanor, something they instinctively like. The gelding is calm when I lead him out of his stall. I open the stables’ door and mount up. I don’t want to risk walking the horse past the house. The family could see and send someone after me. I wouldn’t put it past Abbey to shoot me before I had time to mount up. I’ll bolt out of here at a gallop. I settle on the horse. I was right. The animal is the perfect height for me. I make sure the pack is secure. Then I kick my legs hard and the horse gallops out of the barn.