Chapter 9 CHAPTER 9: Truce
Senna’s POV
By the next morning, the whole Island knew I’d been marked.
I didn't know how. The feeds had been dark and we’d been covered by the dome of briars. The only people who saw Kalev Moren walk out of those thorns were me, Thor, and Kulos. But somehow, they knew.
The mark was fully silvered now, sitting on my neck like a coin catching light. Maybe wolves could smell a claim. Maybe someone was lurking the trees.
I didn’t know. But when we came down off the ridge for water, we came across a pair from Sector 3. They took one glance at me, and then back away, their hands open, their eyes down, like I was some sort of bomb about to go off. “She’s the one,” I heard one of the whisper before they left. “She’s the one marked by Kalev Moren.”
"Huh," Thor said, watching them retreat into the trees without a single glance back. "That's new."
"It’s the mark," I said, filling our water containers fast. “Somehow, they know it was Kalev who marked me. They’re scared of me now.”
"Are they wrong?" he asked.
I didn't answer. I didn't know.
“They're not wrong,” Verity offered.
“You’re not helping,” I stated.
The supply depot opened at midday. We heard it before we saw it, a chime across the whole Island. And then the sky-map flickered into being over the canopy, a clear two miles east in pulsing gold.
DEPOT ACTIVE: 1 HOUR.
The depot had food. Medicine. Real gear, not just the scraps from the drops.
Everyone left alive was going to converge on that clearing like water downhill. Everyone was desperate.
Which was, of course, the point.
"It's a trap," I said.
"Obviously it's a trap." Thor was already checking the hatchet edge. "It's also food, and the kid hasn't eaten since yesterday. Neither have you. Sometimes you have to walk into the trap because what's outside will kill you slower."
He wasn’t wrong. My leg was holding and the bite on my arm was fairly mild. Verity was doing something under the skin, a slow warm knitting I could feel if I paid attention. But I was running on stream water and adrenaline, and Kulos really needed to eat.
"Okay,” I said. “We don't go in the front. We go around. That way, we can see who's set up on it before we decide anything."
It took most of the hour to circle wide. The depot was a squat steel box in the middle of the sand beside the shoreline. The doors were open with crates visible inside. The beach was empty though. There wasn’t a single participant in sight.
“They’re all in the tree lines, like us,” I whispered to Thor.
I could count shadows that didn't match trees. I was good at that, hunting, since I’d grown up hunting in the mountains.
On the far side, though, not even bothering to hide, six figures ranged easy along the wood's edge like they had all day. I recognized them right away. Korrigan and his pack, holding the best approach, waiting for someone else to be stupid first.
"They've boxed it," Thor muttered. "If anyone goes for the depot, they’ll be asking to get killed."
"Not if I stop him." I was already moving before I’d finished the sentence. Not toward the depot, but toward Korrigan. "Stay with Kulos,” I called over my shoulder. “If this goes bad, you run, you don't look back. Say it."
"Senna…" Thor looked horrified.
"Say it, Thor."
"We run. And we don't look back." He hated saying that. I could tell. It didn’t matter though. He’d promised. And Thor was a man of his word.
I walked out of the trees with the bow down and my free hand open. The silver mark on my neck caught the afternoon light like a signal I didn't choose to send.
Six heads turned. But nobody drew a bow. That was the mark working. I might have hated it, but I was grateful for it in that moment.
Korrigan watched me advance. He didn’t move to meet me though. He made me cross the whole distance. Fair enough.
"Sector 6," he said when I was close enough. "You've had a busy couple of days. Nice mark. From the Architect himself, I hear."
I stopped ten feet out. It was an easy bowshot for me, and lunging range for him. We both knew it. "I want a truce."
He lifted one eyebrow. "You turned down my offer yesterday."
"Your offer yesterday didn’t appeal to me. I don’t want to join you. I just want a truce. So we can all get what we need.” I nodded at the depot, and then at the dozen of shadows in the trees. They were all listening now, intently. "Nobody's walking into that box while you're sitting on it, and you can't sit on it forever. When the clock runs out, the doors close. And everyone goes home hungry. That's a loss for you same as it is for me."
"So?" he quipped.
"So we split it. Your pack opens the approach. My people and yours go in together. We both take what we can carry and walk out. Everyone else can have whatever’s left over after we leave.”
“And then?” he asked.
“Then nonaggression. You keep east, and I’ll keep west. Nobody crosses the river without a flag up. At least until we’re forced to fight."
I could call a truce all I wanted, but I knew there would come a time when we were forced to fight. The games couldn’t go on forever. The architect had his ways.
Korrigan considered it. Behind him, a girl with a scarred mouth was watching me like I was some sort of foreign creature.
"And if I say no?" Korrigan asked.
"Then no one gets any food," I shrug. "I can do hungry. I'm from Sector 6. Can you? And can your little pack?"
"That's not a threat," he mused.
"No. This is."
Before he could react, I brought the bow up and let the arrow go. The arrow sailed through the air and the toe of his boot.
Not through his foot, just through his boot. I hit the leather between his smallest toe and the sole, pinning it to the dirt. An inch to the right and he would have been lame for the rest of the Games. We both knew that.
The entire tree line held a collective breath.
Korrigan looked down at the arrow, then up at me. He laughs, a short, surprised bark.
"East and west," he said. "Until we have no other choice?”
"Until we’re forced to fight."
He pulled the arrow out of his boot and handed it back to me. I took it.
We collected our food from the depot with nine minutes to spare. Then I opened my arms wide and hollered to the trees.
“You have nine minutes. Come. Get your food. No one will hurt you.”
As I walked back to the tree line, I saw Korrigan dart into the trees with his pack in tow. Several wolves emerged from the trees, looking cautious.
“You’re safe,” I said over my shoulder as I marched back to Kulos and Thor. “For now, anyway.”