As she floated away, Shawn heard a distant, "Thank you, young man."
Shawn rubbed his face with his arm and grumbled, "Happy to oblige."
"Margaret always was excitable."
Shawn jumped at the voice over his shoulder. Arianna stood there, smiling at the puff of smoke the old woman left behind.
"You going to miss them? Because we don't have to do this."
Arianna narrowed her eyes at Shawn. "This Athame was never meant to be tainted. The wrong must be made right again."
Shawn huffed; righting wrongs was a lot of work.
"Next!" Arianna called for Shawn.
Chapter 30
Inked
"Are you awake?"
The voice called me from my nightmare. I opened my eyes and was greeted with pitch black.
I clawed my way out of my sleeping bag. When the fog cleared from my head, Erika stood at the flap to my tent, staring at my pile of hair from the night before. She stepped in, picked up the scissors, and then looked at me.
I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. They hit air way too quickly.
"You certainly did a number on yourself. Mind if I take some of it?" She bent down, sweeping my hair into a tighter pile with her bare hands.
"Why?"
"We can add it to our mobile compost piles. Hair takes a long time to decompose, but it is a rich source of nitrogen."
I scooted out of my stifling hot bag, rubbing my face. "Sure." I looked away. My eyes were puffy enough as it was.
Erika collected all my hair in a small canvas bag and stood. "I've got the tattoo artists. Ready for them?"
I nodded, still turned away. Three women entered and set up a cot in the middle of the tent. There was barely enough room for everyone.
They put down their bags. The tallest one stepped forward. "Hi Lucy – I'm Layla." She had a slight accent, maybe Dutch.
I nodded my head at her.
"What you see here," she gestured to our bags, "is the last of our ink."
Behind her, one of the women's lips went tight. The other glanced at the bags, then swallowed.
Layla continued. "If we do this for you, we can no longer continue our art."
Her words hung in the air. Behind me, Erika cleared her throat. She wanted me to say something; she wanted me to answer the unasked question. Why should they use the last of their ink on me?
I looked at each of the women. None gave away any clues as to what the right answer might be.
Erika spoke up. "She is interested in the prisoners."
One of the women stepped forward, standing next to Layla now. "What business do you have with the prisoners?" Her whole body leaned forward, her hand on her hip.
Layla put her hand on the woman's shoulder.
To calm her or hold her back? I couldn't tell. Maybe both.
"This is Marissa," Layla said. That was all she said, but her hand stayed on Marissa's shoulder. They stood together, waiting for me to respond.
I looked back at Erika. Her eyes widened only slightly. Respond carefully, is what she should've said to me.
I looked back at the women. "I want the prisoners gone." There, that leaves me open to go either way.
Marissa tensed. Layla's grasp on her shoulder tightened.
"Gone, how?" Marissa asked.
I stood, body going as tense as Marissa's. My hands twitched at my side, ready for a fight.
Time to gamble, I thought. My heart beat so hard I could feel it in my throat. "Gone as in set free."
My eyes darted to each of the women, even to Erika, expecting an attack. But Marissa sank back, releasing a breath.
Layla's mouth turned up in a smile. "Marissa's sister is being held there. But she can't get close enough to even talk to her, much less figure out how to free her."
My eyes flitted over to Marissa. "Have you tried the latrine area?"
She furrowed her eyebrow.
I sighed, "Here – use this." I removed my red arm band and tossed it to her. "It'll get you to the head guard. His name is Clay and he is a friend of mine. Tell him Kai—" I cleared my own throat. "Tell him Lucy sent you. He can at least maybe give you time with your sister."
"Can I trust him?" she asked, looking at the arm band.
"Can he trust you?"
She nodded, then slipped the arm band on.
"He will do what needs to be done to help your sister."
"Thank you," Marissa said. She looked to be on the verge of tears.
She turned to leave, but Layla stopped her. "First, we repay the debt. Okay?"
"No, no." I interrupted. "It's okay. Let her go."
Everyone looked at me. I shrugged, "I know what it is to be separated from family."
Layla nodded, and Marissa left after another round of thanks.
Layla turned to the bags, "Well, let's begin." She nodded to the other woman. "This is Sheri."