Read Drought for Free Online Page B

were you?” I ask, not wanting the story to end.
    “Nearly six dozen came to the woods,” Ellie says. “Plus you.”
    And now ten of them withered, the rest of us still here.
    “Not a single one has left. We all wait.” Ellie tugs at my hair, lightly, as she makes the braid. It feels good. I tilt my head back a bit and look up at the ceiling. I pretend Mother is only sleeping, not healing once again.
    “What was it like in the woods, before Darwin found you?” I ask.
    “It was busy. We knew we had to get up shelters, find food sources, before winter.” Ellie sighs. “To think winter was our biggest worry.”
    “But then Darwin came.”
    “He brought so many cruel men. They all had clubs and chains.”
    They hadn’t escaped him after all. Darwin’s family owned the land they had fled to.
    “He said we’d either give him some of Otto’s miracle Water … or he’d kill your mother. He’d kill you.” Ellie’s hands stop their braiding.
    “Mother should have told him about the blood.”
    But she didn’t. She made something up, and fast. She said the Water could only be harvested from forest leaves, by Otto’s consecrated followers. She lied to Darwin and she lied to the Congregation.
    “She was protecting Otto—and you.” Ellie rests both her hands on my shoulders for a moment, and squeezes. “If Darwin knew what made the Water special, he’d have taken all the blood … and then he would have gone after Otto.”
    “Now we’re all stuck with pewter cups and spoons.” Mother was scared. When Darwin asked her how we harvested the Water, it was the only thing she could think of.
    “We thought it was a bargain we could live with.” Ellie starts braiding again. “We thought Otto would come, and soon.”
    “This summer has been terrible,” I say.
    “The worst yet. The drought … it’s made them all meaner than ever,” she says.
    Not all. My mind flashes on the new Overseer, his eyes wide with horror as the chain fell. My skin flushes warm. Suddenly it feels wrong to have Ellie touching me.
    I pull away, taking my hair into my hand to finish my own braid.
    “What do the Elders want to ask me?” I ask.
    Ellie draws in breath, but pauses.
    “In the woods,” I press. “You said there was something you all wanted to ask me.”
    Ellie frowns, then shrugs. “I forget so much these days.”
    “Hmm,” I answer. I want that to be a lie—not the truth, not something that means she’s withering away even faster than I fear.
    Ellie lets out a soft gasp. “Sula,” she says, leaning close.
    When I look closer, I see why she sounds afraid. Mother is healed … not a little, but completely.
    “She hasn’t got a single scar.” Ellie accuses.
    “I didn’t know …”
    “You knew. But you chose to heal her anyway. Don’t you see?” she says. “She’ll only be hurt worse, now.”
    “We’ll hide it. We’ll … She’ll cut herself, if she has to,” I say. “She can have a fresh wound or two for him to see.”
    Ellie drops her head, silent for a long time. Finally she draws in a deep breath. “It’s time I went home.”
    “I’ll walk you.” I stand, but she waves me away.
    “I know the road. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” She turns to face me. “Waiting is hard. But it’s all we can do, Ruby. It’s all we know how to do.”
    “We could fight.” It comes out as a whisper.
    “With what tools? And what spirit?” She shakes her head. “All we can do is pray, and wait.”
    It is an old fight between us, and one I am too tired to have again tonight. So I clasp her in an embrace and offer her our lantern for the walk home.
    She refuses it, of course. But she is as dear as any blood relative, so I have to try.
    “I only want things to be better,” I tell her before she leaves.
    “Then pray,” she says. “And find a way to wait.”
    When I go to sleep, Mother’s breathing is even. I do not feel guilty that I healed her. I am proud that she has healed, all