It doesnât seem like a good idea going to Ripple Hills with Caz, but he insists, even when I tell him it may be better for me to stay in Whisper Grove.
âI wonât be able to make it back in time to Whisper Grove to get you and then return to Blackwater before the morsel wears off. Once I have my cousins, weâll head there.â He says this as we leave Whisper Grove, both of us carrying black sacks containing water, fruit, and dry foods like nuts and berries, courtesy of Manx.
âWhat did the note say?â I ask as we climb a hill. I feel a cramp building in my side from all the walking. I havenât walked this much in ages.
Caz stops at the top of the hill and looks toward the valley ahead. A forest is nearby, the leaves of the trees rustling with the wind. Thereâs no telling whatâs in that forest.
Caz digs into his pocket, waiting for me to meet up to him before handing the paper to me.
We have the girl and the darkie. If you want to see them again, bring 600 rubies.
âThe darkie?â I donât know why Iâm surprised by that word again. Darkie. Itâs soâ¦ignorant.
âTheyâre referring to Killian,â Caz mutters, already marching down the hill.
âYeah, I gathered that, but why are they calling him that?â
âWhy do you think?â
âSo let me get this straight,â I huff, clutching the paper and following him downhill. âEven in another universe, thereâs hatred for someoneâs skin color?â
Caz side-eyes me before putting his focus ahead. âUnfortunately.â
âSo, itâs a universal thing.â I suck my teeth. âGot it.â I glance at him before saying, âIâm glad youâre not hateful on that front.â
âWhy would I be?â
âI donât know.â And I really donât. I just see this clear-cut white guy, and one like me would assume he has an inkling of racism buried inside him.
âHuman is human. And a piece of shit is a piece of shit. If they want to hate someone for the color of their skin, thatâs their problem, but I choose not to be a part of it. Makes no sense.â
âNo, it doesnât. In our world, itâs called racism, and itâs a hatred that has killed many people.â
Caz is quiet a moment, taking long strides, making it harder for me to keep up with him. âMy mother was a brown woman.â
My brows tilt upward. âWas she?â
âYes. She had nearly the same skin tone as yours.â
I donât know why that makes me smile. âSo, I remind you of your mom?â
He cuts his eyes at me. âDonât get carried away.â
I fight a laugh, and I see his mouth twitching, like he wants to laugh too but refuses to do so.
âSo, what else should I know about you, Caspian Edgar Harlow?â
âYou should know that I donât like being called by my full name.â
âClearly. What else?â
âAnd that it annoys me when people ask me too many questions.â
âThatâs not news to me.â
âDidnât think it would be.â
âAre you always so stubborn, Caspian?â
He stops walking to look me in the eyes, pointing a stern finger at me. âStop calling me that.â
âWhatâs wrong with your name? I think itâs a nice name. Itâs unique.â
âItâs Caz.â
âWhy do Manx, Maeve, and Alora get to call you by your real name?â
âBecause Iâve known Manx my whole life and I have a deep respect for him. As for Maeve, sheâs my aunt and she partially raised me, so she can call me a stupid asshole and get away with it for all I care. And Alora isâ¦well, Alora. She says and does what she wants regardless of how anyone feels. Iâve only met you, so you donât get that privilege. You shouldnât take it personally. My cousins donât call me by that name either, not unless they want to fuck with me. Itâs just Caz, to everyone.â
âItâs weird for someone to hate their own name so much. I mean, if you do, why not just change it?â
âNames cannot be changed in Vakeeli. The name youâre born with is the name you keep. Modifications are acceptable, but changing your name amounts to an insurmountable disrespect.
It means thereâs shame within you, and people find that a weakness here.â
âButâ¦youâre ashamed of your name.â
âBut others outside my circle donât know that, and they wonât ever know it.â Thereâs an underlying threat in his tone.
âIâm not going to run around telling people you hate your name.â
âI know you wonât.â
I roll my eyes, pushing one of my locs off my forehead. âThis world is insanely complicated.â
âYou get used to it.â
âI see.â I look him over again. âIt seems this world makes peopleâ¦hard. Are the children even happy here?â
He doesnât respond, and if Iâm not mistaken, he picks up his pace, taking a trail between a line of trees. I stay behind him this time, dropping the questions for now, not only because I know heâs done answering them, but because Iâm getting tired. Iâve truly gotten lazy. My word.
Iâd do anything to be home in my bed, rolling a joint, getting high, and then curling up in a blanket to take a nap. I suppose if I shut up, weâll get there sooner, so I pick up my pace, but end up bumping right into Cazâs back.
Gasping, I stumble backwards, but he turns and catches my wrist, preventing the fall. With his other hand, he has a finger pressed to his lips, his eyes wide with warning.
What? I ask, and the thought is loud and clear in my mind, so I know he can hear it. What is it?
Somethingâs hunting us.
I freeze, staring into his eyes, too afraid to look around. Caz releases my wrist, and I steady myself as he pushes his jacket back and slowly retrieves his gun from the holster. I still remember how pleased he was to see his guns when Alexi dumped them outside the border. Heâd even checked the bullet chambers, to make sure all the bullets were there.
Caz takes a thorough look around. Raising his gun, he points it past me, and murmurs, âWhatever you do, do not run.â
I donât. I stay where I am, trembling as he narrows his eyes.
âCover your ears.â He says, and I lift my hands, bringing my palms to my ears and squeezing my eyes shut just as Caz pulls the trigger.
Despite my ears being covered, the gunshot makes them ring, and my initial reaction is to duck down.
âShit.â Caz curses beneath his breath, and he aims the gun forward again, letting off a round of shots. I hear rapid steps, the crunching of gravel, the snapping of sticks and twigs.
A beastly growl erupts in the air and a blur of white dashes past me, tackling Caz to the ground.