Chapter 2

Carin watched until Brannon's silhouette disappeared behind the stone hut. Only then did she let out a slow, silent breath. She turned back to the cart, sliding the shovel under the last pile of dung and heaving it onto the pile.

She gripped the handles of the heavy wooden cart. The wheels were rough-hewn, and they groaned in protest as she pushed them through the rutted mud. It took all her strength to keep the cart moving, the muscles in her arms burning with the effort.

She took the long way around, avoiding the main thoroughfare, but she couldn't avoid the central square. The path to the refuse pit ran right along its edge.

As she pushed the cart past the square, she was forced to stop. A crowd had gathered, blocking the way. In the center, Marsh Fletcher was down on one knee, his arms spread wide in a theatrical display. He was blocking Diann Fitzgerald's path.

"Beautiful Diann," Marsh declared, his voice dripping with honeyed flattery. He reached into his leather pouch and pulled out a low-grade energy crystal. It pulsed with a faint, sickly light. "I offer you this token of my admiration. Please, grant me the honor of being your first partner at the autumn ceremony."

Diann looked down at him, her nose wrinkled in distaste. She plucked the crystal from his hand with two fingers, holding it up to the twin suns as if inspecting a piece of rotten fruit.

"You call this an offering?" she sneered, but she still slipped the crystal into her pouch. "Fine. You may join the line of candidates. But don't think for a second this buys you anything."

Marsh scrambled to his feet, leaning in to kiss the back of her hand. Diann slapped him away with a look of pure disgust, wiping her hand on her pelt.

Carin stood behind the cart, watching the exchange. A wave of nausea rolled through her, and it had nothing to do with the smell of the dung. This was a transaction, a raw display of power and submission disguised as romance. It was barbaric.

Diann turned, her sharp eyes catching sight of Carin and the cart. Her lip curled. "Ugh! Take that filth away! You're polluting the air!"

Two guards stepped forward without hesitation. They swung the wooden shafts of their spears, the heavy wood cracking against Carin's back.

"Move!" one of them barked.

The blow sent a jolt of pain through Carin's already injured ribs. She bit her lip until it bled, swallowing the cry that tried to escape. She ducked her head and pushed the cart forward as fast as her legs could carry her, desperate to get away from the mocking laughter that followed her.

By the time she reached the refuse pit, her back was on fire and her lungs were burning. She dumped the cart's contents into the pit, the foul smell washing over her, and then slumped against a large, moss-covered boulder at the edge. She was gasping for air, her body trembling with exhaustion.

She checked her surroundings. The pit was at the very edge of the clan's territory, far from the bustling market and the prying eyes of the guards. She was alone.

Carin walked over to a small, stagnant puddle fed by a trickle of water from the rocks. She knelt beside it, looking down at her reflection. The mud caked on her face made her look like a monster, a creature born of the swamp.

She dipped one finger into the water and carefully rubbed a small patch of skin on her jaw. The mud smeared away, revealing a patch of skin that was startlingly white and smooth, completely unblemished by the harsh sun or the rough environment.

She stared at the patch of pale skin for a moment, a reminder of who she really was. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed a fresh handful of dark mud from the bank and smeared it back over the spot. She rubbed it in until her skin was once again indistinguishable from the dirt.

Suddenly, a sharp, electric pain lanced through her brain. Carin gasped, clutching her head as she doubled over. It felt like a needle was being driven straight through her skull.

Initiating unknown system reboot.

A cold, mechanical female voice echoed in her mind. Carin's eyes flew open. Floating in her vision, superimposed over the muddy puddle, was a semi-transparent blue holographic panel.

She blinked rapidly, thinking she was hallucinating. She slapped her own cheek, the sting sharp and real. The panel didn't disappear. Instead, a progress bar appeared on it, the bar filling up with a soft chime.

System binding complete. Host vitals stable.

Carin stared at the panel, her heart hammering against her fractured ribs. She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the panic. She stared at the panel, noticing an eye-like icon blinking. She tried to concentrate, thinking the word 'scan' in her mind, but the icon remained unresponsive. Frowning, she adjusted her approach. She imagined her physical finger reaching out and pressing against it. This time, the panel vibrated slightly in her vision, and the icon lit up.

Her gaze fell on a spiky, purple weed growing near the puddle. The panel flickered, and a stream of data scrolled across the screen.

Unknown alien plant detected. No nutritional value. Trace toxicity. Codex entry failed.

Carin's pulse raced. Could this really not be a hallucination? The neural link... she'd felt it go cold and dead the moment her escape pod slammed into the dirt. She'd been certain the internal datapad was fried beyond repair, a piece of dead tech buried in her skull. Was it actually working? Perhaps, just perhaps, this was her last lifeline.

She quickly willed the panel to close. The blue light vanished from her vision. She stood up, brushing the dirt from her knees. Her hands were steady now, and her eyes held a sharp, calculating light that hadn't been there before.

In the distance, the sharp blast of a bone whistle cut through the air. It was the signal for the laborers to return to the communal dormitory.

Carin grabbed the handles of the empty cart. She straightened her spine, ignoring the protest from her ribs, and began the walk back. She had a weapon now. She had a chance.