Taken Read Online Free PDF Page B

me slated to you for several months, and then you won’t have to deal with matchups at all.”
    She’s quiet for a moment, her dark eyes searching mine. I’m not sure what she’s looking for or what she’s thinking. She’s too good at being blank.
    “Okay,” she says finally. “It’s a deal. What do you want to do?”
    “What, right now?”
    “Yes, right now.” She smiles, ever so slightly. It causes that pain in my chest, that heave I get when she looks at me, to pulse.
    “We can do anything. What do you want to do?”
    “Let’s go to the pond,” she says, putting her things away.
    “What pond?”
    “The pond. The only one. The one near that field of purple bellflowers.”
    “That’s more of a lake.”
    “Oh, it’s a pond in my mind. Come on, let’s get out of here.” And then she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me from the Clinic. I guess I won’t be hunting today.

FIVE
    WE HEAD SOUTH THROUGH TOWN, passing the school and blacksmith shop and the numerous houses, including my own, that create the border of the village. Where the dirt fades away, tall grass begins, sprouting up in patches, until finally we are entering the woods. I don’t usually hunt along the southern portion of the forest. It’s marshier, and the larger game sticks to the drier areas. The ground grows soft beneath our feet as we continue, but there’s been little rain lately and we avoid sinking into the doughy earth. When we reach the coarse thicket that I know to be concealing the lake from view, Emma grabs my arm and pulls me to a standstill.
    “This way,” she says, motioning to our right.
    “But it’s straight ahead. On the other side of this brush.”
    “I know, but the view’s better if you climb the hill.”
    “View? There’s no view.”
    “Trust, Gray. Have trust.” And then without waiting to see if I follow, she starts cutting through the trees and brush, no path to guide her. She holds her dress up about her knees, and I stare at her legs as she steps over fallen logs and rocks in our path. We move slowly and up a steady incline. Maybe there will be a view after all.
    When we break loose from the trees, I’m nearly speechless. We are standing on a hill that overlooks the water. From this angle it appears rather small and narrow, its thinness stretching out of view beyond another crest in the land. Surrounding us are the bellflowers, tall, thick stems that grow higher than my waist. Delicate purple petals hang from each, grouped together and dancing in the soft breeze. The southernmost portion of the Wall is barely visible in the distance.
    Emma leads us into the field and toward a lone rock that sits on the hillside. The purple flowers nearly reach her shoulders, but she climbs out of their grasp.
    “I used to come here with my uncle,” she tells me as we get comfortable on the stone. “Almost daily. At least until . . . you know. I was nine when he was lost. I haven’t been back in years.”
    “It’s beautiful from up here,” I say. “And, to be fair, it seems much smaller from this angle. I can almost understand why you called it a pond.”
    “See?”
    “Yeah, well, it’s still a lake. I’m just trying to be nice.”
    She sighs. “Ah, yes. That must be difficult for you.”
    “You know, despite what you might think, I’m not a mean person.”
    “What you did to Chalice wasn’t mean?”
    “That’s different.”
    “It was still mean.”
    “Okay, fine. I’m not inherently a mean person.”
    “I’ll give you that for now.” She plucks a clump of grass and sprinkles it into the breeze.
    “So why’d you do it?” she asks, looking at me. “Why were you honest about the matchup?”
    I’m not quite sure how to answer the question. There are explanations on many levels. I don’t want to be a father. I hate the formality of slatings. I want her, but not if it’s forced.
    “You were being honest, right?” she asks. “You’re not going to try to attack me later or something are