Free The Scourge by A.G. Henley

infractions, like intentionally taking a life. What did Peree’s mother do ?
    “Is that how she died?” I ask.
    “Believe it or not, she survived.”
    “How?”
    “It’s a long story. Sure you wouldn’t rather get some sleep?”
    I’m worn out, but I’ve only heard a few stories of sighted people who survive the Scourge, and most were from before I was born. None were about Lofties. Hazily, I realize
I
almost didn't survive this time. Could the Three possibly have known my protection would fail when I fell asleep? Did Aloe know? She wouldn’t have allowed my punishment then, would she? I rest my head against the gnarled tree bark, too tired to contemplate all the possibilities.
    “I’d like to hear it,” I say.
    Peree’s voice drifts across the narrow, dark space between us. “From what I’ve heard, Mother was always asking questions as a girl: why we have to stay in the trees; why we can’t walk on the ground or swim in the water; why we don’t allow Groundlings in the trees; why we always hide when the Scourge comes. She asked hard questions, and she didn’t like the answers she got. As she grew up, she went looking for different answers.”
    “What did she do?”
    “She started leaving the trees without permission, to take walks on the ground.”
    “Really? Why?” The Lofties didn’t leave the safety of the trees other than to bathe or to collect water when the Scourge was gone. They usually kept it short, and hurried back up like panicked squirrels when the task was done. Of course, we wouldn’t allow them to stay on the ground for long, either.
    “Shrike said at first she wanted to prove she could. Then she wanted to prove we all could—leave the trees, spend time on the ground—when the Scourge wasn’t here. The Council was livid when they found out what she was doing. They talked to her, reasoned with her, threatened her. They even gave me to her to foster, hoping being a mother would tame her. They were wrong. She was a good mother—kind, caring—but being a mother didn’t stop her. My parents had to give up a baby in the Exchange a few years after they got me. Mother supposedly left the trees even more often after that. My father said he worried constantly, that she might be consumed by the Scourge, or grabbed by a Groun–” He stops, as if he remembered who he’s talking to.
    I’m startled. I never considered the Lofties might be afraid of us. They were the ones lurking in the trees with their bows and arrows, shooting people at will. Then again, I thought, we creep around on the ground with our spears, superior hunting skills, and fire-setting torches. Maybe I could understand their concern, a little.
    “Anyway,” Peree hurries on, “the Council lost patience with her. They said if she was so comfortable on the ground, she could stay and see how she liked it.” His voice is harder now, more bitter. “The punishment was meant to be for one night, but she was gone more than a week.”
    I almost choke. “A week? Where did she go?”
    “I don’t know, she wouldn’t talk about it. Mother was different when she came back, more serious. She did her work, didn’t ask questions anymore. The Council figured they’d found a cure for her curiosity.”
    “What did you think?”
    “It seemed like she was waiting for something, something that never happened. She was always watching the ground . . . My parents began to quarrel. One night, they had a fierce argument. I remember being cold. I wanted them to lie down; it was warmer when we all slept together. Then, sometime during the night, she hugged me, and told me she loved me. The next morning she was gone. I think about that night, and I wish I’d done something, anything, other than rolling over and going back to sleep.” Peree sounds . . . vulnerable. Like a child. My heart breaks for him.
    “I’m sorry,” I murmur.
    “I wish I knew what was so important on the ground that she’d leave, give up her life, because of it.