The Tributes (Sable)

Crossing the Bridge

Sable had no clue when they'd come to an elevated floor. Sure, the guards who'd brought her from her village had taken her up a staircase to the Queen. But Sable didn't think they had climbed this high!

Another screech from the woman-in-pink got them moving again, though. And Sable figured it must be safe to cross if My Lady was walking on it without worry. Besides, the bridge was wide and there were tall stone railings on either side of the bridge, so it wasn't like they were in danger of falling off if they tripped . . .

Nevertheless, once again, they came to a stop. But it wasn't the whole group this time. Instead, the line had stopped moving just a few steps in front of Sable.

Sable tried to peer around the girls in front of her to see what was holding them up, just as another ear-shattering, angry screech from My Lady reached across the bridge to hurry them up again.

But now, Sable could make out a quieter, but equally noticeable high-pitched voice in front of her, obviously in a panic.

"I can't, I can't, I can't! It's too high! Please, I can't! I can't – !

There was murmuring for a moment, and then the way in front of Sable slowly cleared somehow, letting Sable get a better view of what was happening as she followed the crowd forward.

She finally caught sight of a girl crumpled on the ground, shaking, her chestnut brown, tangled hair whipping in the wind, her palms braced flat on the floor of the bridge like she needed to make sure it was still there, and panicked words and pleas stuttering out of her like a keening prayer.

Many of the girls in front of Sable stepped around her and over her to pass her by. One or two murmured a few words to her, or tugged on her sleeves, to encourage her to get up and follow them. But they gave up and went on their way when all that happened was a panicked shaking of her head and her pitch getting even higher with fear.

Sable slowed as she got nearer to the girl.

From her panicked rambling, Sable guessed that she was reacting to the height. And while she didn't understand the fear of such a thing, she could certainly relate to the emotion. It almost felt like she was looking at herself, at how she felt on the inside ever since she'd been taken as the tribute from her village.

Maybe even before that too.

Sable stopped completely when she was right behind the girl, wavering, wanting to help her up but having no clue what to do.

She was shoved aside by the girls behind her when she'd apparently paused for too long, and she went with it, moving out of the way but still staying close to the girl attaching herself to the stone floor.

She should move, she thought. She didn't know what to do anyway. And every lick of common sense she had said it would be better to be on her way, before she attracted attention to herself. She had already made that mistake with the Black Queen. She didn't need to repeat it with My Lady.

But Sable hesitated, wanting to leave and wanting to stay, hand half-poised to touch the girl's shoulder, but completely unsure whether she should or could, or what she could possibly do after that . . .

"Move."