Time seemed to stretch as I locked gazes with the eyes in the bush, my mind taking moments longer than it should have to break away from self-indulgent pity to situational awareness. Awareness that never should have been broken in the first place.

Fellen was a few paces behind me to my left; the huntresses still in the middle of gutting the boar over twenty feet away by the pit trap. The rocks I’d been collecting were in a sack tied to my belt. I’d have pull one out if I wanted my sling to be any use once I grabbed it. The forest around us was full of trees with wide trunks as well as a handful of bushes—most suitable to hide behind. I hadn’t heard them approach, so they had to be skilled and their number couldn’t—

The person behind the bush moved to the side and leapt for me. I whistled the alarm, short and sharp, instead of dodging. We hit the ground and I gasped as the air was knocked out of me. I immediately gave up going for my sling in favor of protecting my ribs and face from my opponent’s blows. That didn’t go so well.

I quickly realized as I tried to hold my opponent back that she was a girl with at least a head of height on me. Which gave her reach and strength behind her punches that I couldn’t match. Still, that didn’t mean I was just going to let her hit me.

I brought my knee up, straight into the back of her leg. She flinched from the unexpected blow and I took advantage of the brief pause in her attack to rear up and bite into where her collar exposed the skin around her neck. She snarled and pushed me away. Just before I fell back, a pulse of...weakness spread from where her right hand gripped my head.

She stumbled back, clutching her shoulder, while I struggled to clamber to my feet through a wave of dizziness and bleared vision.

I sensed other fights going on around me, but I didn’t turn away from my opponent. I had to trust they could handle themselves while I dealt with my own fight—not that I would be that useful with my vision half gone and an piercing headache starting to throb from my right temple. I tried blinking rapidly but everything in front of me remained vague smears of color.

The girl rushed forward again, knocking aside my feeble attempt at a block with ease, before grappling me to the ground. She wrenched my arm back and dug a knee into my spine. If I struggled too hard she could wrench my good shoulder from its socket. I growled, but couldn’t do much as I heard snow crunching and then another pair of hands held down my legs.

The headache spiked behind my eyes and I was forced to close them. It hurt too much to see. A few moments later a sour taste coated my mouth and my tongue started to feel puffy. My years of training provided me with an answer for the symptoms, though it didn’t make sense.

Black Root.

Found in the Folds. Typically ground down and mixed with water. Hallucinogenic and relaxant. Sour taste, dry puffy tongue. Dangerous—tongue can swell too much and block breathing. Poisonous when too much is imbibed. Poison caused severe blurry vision, sensitivity to light, debilitating headaches.

I coughed, trying to clear my throat. It didn’t help. Air whistled through a thin passage in the back of my throat as my mark started to prickle.

Two voices spoke quickly and softly above me.

“What’s wrong with her? Did you…?”

“I think I gave her too much.”

“Then take it back! You shouldn’t have used it anyway—emergencies only, Prevna.”

“I know. I know! Get ready to hold her.”

Fingers touched the base of my neck and I shuddered. Then there was a sucking sensation and it felt like that initial pulse of weakness was being pulled back out of my body. Immediately, my mark stopped tingling, the headache dulled, and my swollen tongue began to return to normal as the sour taste faded. I waited a few more moments, feeling most of my strength slowly return before I blinked open my eyes.

The girl’s face scowled down at me, perfectly clear. “Bite me and I’ll poison you again.”

I glared back at her before trying to pull myself free, but the hands holding my legs and her grip on my arm kept me in place. She probably had a bless mark like me, to use poison in such an odd way, but my best bet to deal with her presumably touched based ability—create distance between us—was currently closed. I should have went for my spear instead of my sling when I had the chance. That would have kept the distance between us.

I was about to try another desperate escape attempt when an authoritative voice cut through the scuffling and crunching snow of other fights. “Enough. You’re out-numbered three to one. This isn’t a fight you’ll win, huntresses.”

The scuffling sounds stopped and a heartbeat later Crest spoke, “Perhaps. And perhaps following the assessment of a betrayer doesn’t sit well with us.” Her voice was colder and harsher than I had ever heard it before.

The other voice continued on like she hadn’t said a word. “We’ll be taking the boar. It was our hunt first, and we need the meat more than you, besides.”

“That’s our kill, Picker.” Veris this time.

“The current situation would indicate otherwise. Of course, we won’t leave you to starve as you have done so often to our people. We’ve seen your traps.”

“Liars and thieves, every last one of you.” Crest again.

Veris spat a word out at the same time. “Vulture.”

The Picker spokeswoman didn’t rise to the bait. “We do what we have to, to survive, same as you. The boar is ours—you can always hunt another. You have the training for it, yes?”

There was another pause filled with the sounds of movement and more insults from Crest and Veris. All I could see was snow and the bottom of a tree. Shame and anger mixed welled and mixed like a new poison in my gut. The audacity of these people! They took from the tribes like they were owed the food and furs they stole, despite the fact they betrayed their tribe first, broke a core tenet. And now they humiliated huntresses by stealing the kill they had just risked limb, if not life, to get. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings, been more aware. If the Picker band hadn’t had the advantage of surprise the huntresses, at least, would have had a better chance of beating them with their weapons despite being outnumbered.

Something heavy was dragged and a fight broke out. I tried to use the distraction to break free again, but the girl dug her knee and fingers further into my back.

“Try that again and you’ll regret it.”

I glared back at her but remained still. There was shouting from the direction of the fight and then a thump. Tense stillness settled over the area.

Rawley finally spoke up, strained but calm. “You have your boar. Why do you remain?”

“A good turn. We thought we’d have to risk going all the way to the valley, but then you showed up with food in hand. One of our young ones has recently entered her blooding years. She bears a blessed mark.” You could hear the smug grin in the woman’s voice. “We invoke Sanctuary.”

Sanctuary.

The word was like a bucket of chilled water running down my spine. Everyone knew and scoffed at the rumors and the few legends about Sanctuary—it wasn’t something that actually happened. Why would the goddess ever grant a blessed mark to a Picker? They didn’t deserve it—they were betrayers, the thing the goddess hated most.

But on the odd, minuscule chance a Picker girl was born with a blessed mark and she survived until her blooding years, her band could travel to a tribe and invoke Sanctuary. That tribe would then be bound to taking care of that girl—on pain of the goddess’s wrath if they failed—until the Dark Night celebrations when she would be taken to the Seedling Palace. Tribes had a higher chance of survival than Picker bands.

There were a couple moments of silence as we all absorbed the announcement before my mentor spoke again. “Which one? We’ll need proof before we take her in.”

“Prevna? Bring your catch over here, so that the good huntress might see you better.”

Seething irritation, fueled by the shame still roiling in my gut, spiked at the provocation. It didn’t help when I practically picked up by the two holding me and manhandled into walking forward. I tried to struggle free, but all I managed to do was confirm that I didn’t have the height, strength, or leverage to break free from my captors.

For the first time since I spied the girl’s eyes through the bush, I got a decent view of the situation. Fellen was caught in a bear hug of a middle-aged man and looked throughly affronted that she couldn’t break free. Fear also edged her wide eyes and the realization caused my teeth to grind together. There was no reason she should have had to feel panicked so soon after our ordeal in Flickermark.

The huntresses were spread out in a small cluster near the pit trap and were, in turn, surrounded by small clusters of Pickers. Rawley held three Pickers at bay with her spear, like I should have done. A fourth lay at her feet, out cold. Nole also had three surrounding her, but she had opted for using her fists over weapons. They looked wary, and the nose of one of them looked broken. One had drawn a small knife. Nole also sported a swelling jaw and a cut along one forearm. Keili and Veris weren’t faring as well. They were ones who had been in the process of gutting the boar. Veris was standing, but she had four Pickers holding her in place. Keili was near her, laying on the ground much as I had been, with two Pickers and a knife to her throat holding her in place. Crest was also on the ground, but she was curled around her stomach with a spear, presumably hers, pointed at her face by a Picker. Two other Pickers hovered around her, in case she tried anything. A path drug through the snow led to where two Pickers stood guard over our boar.

A few paces in front of Rawley stood the Picker spokeswoman. She had the look of a woman who was unfazed—no, amused at bad tidings. Like it was a joke that such things like poor shelter or lack of food thought that they could get in the way of her survival. Not even her ragged clothing could pull from the air of dignity that surrounded her. Black hair in a thousand tiny braids draped down her back and contrasted with the matte light gray of her lips—like the shamble men’s skin.

Those lips were the mark of a Picker just as black lips marked whisper women. Light gray so that all would know them for the betrayers they were. No one knew how their lips were changed—only that when an offender was caught and a Scale was called and judged them guilty, the new exile always left the tent and their tribe with gray lips. A Picker’s children were also born with gray lips, but the color was more see through, so that you could see hints of their lip color underneath. The third generation was born with normal lips and could petition to rejoin a tribe.

Prevna and my other captor pulled me to a halt next to their leader. I saw Rawley’s eyes narrow. Then they quickly adjusted how they were holding me, so that Prevna could hold out a hand. They did it so smoothly that I didn’t have a chance to take advantage of the change. When the other girl held her hand out, I saw that she had markings on every finger. Two swirls started on the pad of every finger before wrapping around onto the back of the finger, stopping just before her middle knuckle.

Her leader said, “She’s poison-touched. Both hands have the markings. She can soak up the poison from any plant or animal with such gifts and then expel it into an opponent. If you’re so set on proof, I can have her give a demonstration.”

The thought of being poisoned again broke my silence. I growled out, “She already did.”

The spokeswoman’s eyebrows rose. “That so?”

“I took it back, Milwa.” Prevna sounded chastened and irritated in equal, quiet measure.

“Thoughtful of you.” She turned to Rawley. “So? Do you still want your demonstration?”

Rawley let out a long breath before replying, “No. My apprentice’s word is enough.”

A flush of warmth quelled some of the anger and shame in my chest, though the magnitude of her decision based on my outburst weighed on me.

“Good, good.” Milwa surveyed the scene around her. “We’ll take the boar then, and you’ll take my daughter.” She waved a hand to her people. “Don’t take the huntresses’ weapons unless you wish to be hunted. They’re particular about such things, and I wish to end this meeting amicably.” She eyed each of our party in turn. “Come after us and we will beat that option out of you. Harm my daughter and I will enjoy watching the goddess’s wrath fall upon you and yours.”

She whistled sharply and there were a few moments where you could taste the tension in the air as her people let us go and fell back. I whirled around as Prevna and my other captor, a young man, followed suit. Prevna and her mother clasped each other in a tight hug, a gross breach of the expectation to keep affection behind tent walls, and Milwa murmured something in her ear before they pulled apart. Then Milwa and her Picker band disappeared back into the forest as we watched, heading toward the Folds, leaving Prevna behind.

Prevna turned toward us, wary, and for the first time I got a good look at our newest, untrustworthy tribe member. She had beige skin, a strong nose, and hair that was such a deep brown it was almost black. Her hair was braided back into four plaits that were tied into two buns at the nape of her neck, just behind her ears. Her eyes matched her hair and held the same dignity as her mother, though she was more aloof. Her lips had the somewhat translucent gray of a second generation Picker. I immediately disliked the fact she was tall and fit, and looked to be about two years older than me.

I heard Crest and Keili pick themselves up behind me. Fellen also hurried over to hover behind me as we all watched her.

She crossed her arms. “It wouldn’t do me any good to poison you.”

Crest scoffed, Veris swore, and Rawley sighed. The others kept quiet.

Rawley stepped up next to me. “No, it wouldn’t. I need to get you back to my tribe’s Grandmother.” She addressed the rest of us. “Let’s go break camp and head back to Grislander’s Maw.”

She turned and offered her support to Crest who quietly fumed about getting hit with her own spear. Veris was more open in her discontent, but her sister distracted her from confronting Prevna. Nole came over to check on Fellen, and I turned my back on Prevna. Then we started walking, and left it up to her to follow or not.