"He saved us," I reminded her. "When the Devil claimed the world, God saved humanity by making the compound."
She nodded her head slowly. "But is that really good?"
"It has to be," I decided. "Callah, it must be, because otherwise, what point is there to all of this?"
"And that's the question I've been asking myself a lot lately," she admitted. "Every time I look at my list, I ask it again."
EightAyla
The days continued to pass, and the closer we got to my birthday, the faster they seemed to fly. It was almost as if the one time I wanted life to move slower, it did the opposite just to spite me. Before I knew it, my birthday was only days away.
I still hadn't picked a husband from my list.
Only Reynold Saunders had even made an effort, and that had been months ago. The rest hadn't even talked to me. Not that it meant much. Once I turned twenty, they could propose. Any offers before that couldn't be taken as serious, or so Ms. Lawton said.
But I was anxious about it. Jamison was the only man on my list who didn't disgust me. I didn't want him, though, and not simply because of his infatuation with Eliana. For me, his muscles were the problem. Jamison was a successful hunter. His body had been made strong by years of carrying the harvest back to the compound. If he decided to punish me, then I was sure he'd do a lot more than merely leave bruises.
The other four men were old. Peter Morgan, Reynold Saunders, Jonathan Smith, and Gabriel Baird. The first two were councilmen. The last two were merely respected among the Righteous. Supposedly, Mr. Baird had once been a hunter, but that had been decades ago.
And all of them had been married at least once before. All of them had lost their wives to childbirth. Each one intended to do the exact same with me, so was it really shocking that I wanted nothing to do with the entire ordeal?
When I whined about my predicament for the third day in a row, Callah couldn't take it anymore. "Why don't you go claim your inheritance from your mother?" she suggested. "If nothing else, it's something that's just for you, and maybe it'll take your mind off the rest of this?"
She had a point. A good one. So that evening, I left my room and headed towards the men's side of the compound, making sure to keep my head down and a gentle smile on my lips. That way, I wouldn't offend anyone when I passed them. A few men gave me strange looks, but none followed me. When I finally reached the Elder's hall, I headed towards the third door on the left, then knocked lightly.
It took a moment before there was a response. Nervously, I shifted on my feet, waiting as patiently as I could. When the door finally cracked, the old man on the other side was almost a stranger. He looked familiar, but it had been years since I'd seen him last. Peering at me with failing eyes, he grunted before opening the door a little wider. Only then did I bother to lift my head.
"Father," I said politely. "In case you weren't aware, I turn twenty soon. I came to see if I can claim the last of my mother's things?"
Those words were enough to make him step back and invite me in. "Who escorted you here, girl?"
"I walked by myself."
He sighed heavily. "Your mother's influence runs too deep." But he still turned to the far side of the room, walking away without inviting me to join him.
So I waited. With my hands clasped politely before me, I forced myself to be patient even while he rummaged through his shelves. The old man sighed a few times, then grumbled words too soft for me to make out. Eventually, he found a mesh box and pulled it down. His body sagged against the weight, and he huffed like it was some kind of great burden, but I had a feeling his age was most of the problem.
My father had to be well into his eighties, if not even ninety. While he was still considered one of the Elders, he no longer had any involvement in the running of the compound. Instead, he'd chosen an apprentice to replace him on the council when he passed. Sadly, it wasn't one of his many sons.
"Okay," he told me, waving me over. "This is all she left. You may take two things, just like your older brother did. Your other brother will do the same when he comes of age. When your youngest sister finally turns twenty, we'll divvy out anything left over, so choose wisely…" He trailed off like he was trying to remember something. Most likely my name.
"Ayla," I reminded him.
He made a sound like he knew that, but I wasn't completely convinced. Still, I hadn't come here for him. My father had never had much to do with my life - except the making of it - but my mother had certainly tried. Tiesha had loved all of her children with everything in her heart, right up until we'd grown too old to stay with her. I could still remember how hard I'd fought when the matrons had come to take me away. I'd screamed like a wild woman until even my mother had told me to hush and go with them. I'd been barely six years old.
Now, I couldn't help but fear that the Devil inside my mother had shifted into me. Tiesha had been locked away because of it. Her delusional ramblings were too dangerous for others to hear. When I'd been little, my father had said my mother might fight off the darkness one day, but she never had. After me, my little brother had been born and raised, and then my sister had come next, but the last baby had been one too many.
That fateful night, the matron had come to my room to tell me God had called my mother and her final child to Heaven. The funeral had been held the very next day, and only Tiesha's immediate family - and the Council of Elders - had been allowed to attend. The proper words had been said, and the rights had been given to unlock the kingdom of Heaven. Somehow, it hadn't made me feel any better.
I'd been eleven.
This box of trinkets was all that was left of my mother. Letting out a heavy breath, I reached inside, examining each one of the items. I didn't want to be greedy, but my younger brother would want little from a woman. My sister might, if the girl could even remember that far back. She hadn't even been three when our mother had passed, but it was possible she still had memories of her.
One thing immediately caught my eye. There, nestled at the bottom, was the strange necklace my mother had always worn. The string was frayed and rotten, but the metal piece hanging from it was the same as I remembered. Sure, the yellow metal had tarnished over time, but Tiesha had worn it nestled between her breasts. So many times, I had toyed with it while my mother told me the strangest tales: stories of wondrous things and wild fantasies. I was convinced those days were where I'd gotten my love of forbidden stories.
It made me wonder if my mother had also found the library back when she was a child. So many of her words had touched on the pictures inside. Others had been vastly different, but those tales all held so much hope. It was as if Tiesha had actually believed that one day she'd finally reach the mystical realm she'd imagined. Not Heaven, but this world she'd given a beautiful name. Lora, or something like that.
I claimed the necklace, and then searched for a second item. The whole time, my father hovered beside me. His presence made it clear he wanted me done and gone. The sound of his labored breathing made me feel like I was suffocating along with him. The man was nearly dead, although that didn't bother me at all. He was also mostly a stranger. When he finally died, I wouldn't even miss him.
Soon, I'd turn twenty, and he'd no longer have a say in my life. I'd be a grown woman, and him? He'd just be another man on the Council, deciding where my pedigree fit best. We might be related, but we weren't close at all. Too bad there wasn't some token in this box to remind me of him. Some item which would serve as a warning. Instead, I fished out some scraps of paper, opening each to see if any of them made sense.
A folded yellowed page revealed a crude drawing. It was made with the frantic strokes of my mother's hands. The scene looked like something straight from the Bible, maybe even Eden. Considering there was nothing else of value, I decided to claim it for my second item, then announced both of my choices to my father. He took the items from me, looked at each one, then handed them back.
With one last grunt, the old man lifted his arm to the door. It was a very clear dismissal, but he didn't say a single thing. I wondered if he'd forgotten my name again, but decided I didn't actually care to know. I had what I'd come for. Everything else was decaying and worthless, including him.
"Go straight to your room," my father ordered as I walked out. "It's too late for a proper woman to be out and about."
"I will, Father," I promised.
But I wouldn't. I had one more place I wanted to go while I was still a child. Next week, this trip would be cause for punishment. Tonight, I could blame nostalgia and claim my age as an excuse for leniency.
The trick to going where I wanted in the compound was to pretend I was supposed to be there. It was considered impolite to be nosy, and scandalous to gossip. A proper woman would mind her own business and attend to only her husband's affairs. The first week I'd lived in my own room, I'd realized that meant it was rude to ask what I was doing. So long as I was merely out of place but looked determined, the adults would assume I'd been sent on a mission.
So I turned my feet to the darkest areas. The compound was massive, but the number of Righteous had fallen with each generation. Long ago, many thousands of people had lived here. Now, most of the halls had fallen into disuse. The Elders warned it was proof of the Devil's power. Weakness of spirit let his evil in to destroy a man from the inside out.
Women were even easier to corrupt, they said. That was why so many women were locked away in quarantine, yet no one had ever been able to explain why these women looked different. Their eyes were usually brown instead of blue. Their hair was often darker. As a child, I'd seen one lady who had hair the color of night. Her children had been born with red curls, darker than even Callah's, and nothing like the more common smooth, blonde hair everyone else had in the compound.
I was thinking about that as I made my way up the last hall. At the end, as far away from the rest of the compound as it was possible to get, sat an older woman. She had a book in her lap, and from the way the pages were laid out, I knew it was the Bible. The matron lifted her head with a tired and weary look, then narrowed her eyes.
