Raging Star (34 page)

They asked Emmi a lot of questions. Where she was born and when. Who her parents were, how they died. Things like that. She only had to lie a bit for most of those. Did she have a brother? No. A sister? No. In a little room on their own, a woman who reminded her of Mercy called her dear and looked her all over
.

Teeth, ears and eyes. Hands, feet, hair, and skin, strength and straightness of limbs. Her height was checked to a mark on the wall. She had to say if she’d ever had this fever, that sickness, quite a list
.

Then they tattooed the numbers on her arm. It hurt. It took a long time and burned like fire and bled and hurt a lot. She didn’t cry though. She wouldn’t let herself. She screwed her face tight and thought about Saba. How she never cried after that first time they made her fight in the Cage. Never, no matter how much they hurt her. How she didn’t cry when the hellwurm ripped her shoulder and Jack stitched it. This was nothing compared to all that. To shed even one tear would be shameful. So she didn’t. Not one single tear
.

Today our boldness works. Tomorrow it might not. Today the weather’s set to unsettle. Uneasy nights give birth to uneasy days. The sun rises to brood darkly red. Not long after we leave the Lanes, a cold fog rolls in from the north. But the sun will not have its power denied an burns the mist red, like a thin blanket of fire.

There’s a spare few rigs on the road. Otherwise, the land’s silent as we roll our way northwest. Tommo an Lugh ride up front. Manuel an me follow behind. He drives a little cart of
Peg’s, with Hermes tied to the rear. I sit on the bench beside him, muffled in Auriel’s shawl. Unner Molly’s green dress, my belly billows with its pad of corn husks. We’re Stewards of the Earth. Our Tonton escort of two’s bin charged by the Pathfinder hisself with makin sure we git back home as soon as possible. I’m a precious cargo, pregnant with the first set of twins in New Eden. Nobody’ll dare to ruffle us.

A sudden thought has me grabbin Manuel’s arm. Don’t say a word about Jack, I whisper. Not to nobody, okay? It’s important.

He slants me a look of dark-eyed closeness. I ain’t no talker, he says.

Despite the risks of road travel, it beats crawlin through the backwood trails. We make decent enough progress, so far as caution an conditions allow. I should be champin at the bit to go flat out. But we’ll be there soon enough. Too soon.

At a few of the checkpoints, the Tonton go through the right drill an want the right password. Lugh’s ready with it, all thanks to Jack’s network, if he only knew. Mostly, though, the day makes them careless. Not keen to leave the warmth of the guardhouse stove. Single guards run out at the last moment. A quick glance at the brand on Manuel’s forehead, at my swollen belly, an they’re liftin the gate an wavin us through. Strange nights of starfall an ghostfear followed hard by strangeweather days means people stick close to their fires. Even DeMalo’s Tonton. A reminder, if I
need one, that yer only as strong as yer weakest man.

An I think of the young Tonton at the babyhouse. His heartsickness at leavin the baby out to die.
Freedom, brother
. That raw flare of hope in his eyes.
I won’t tell on you. I promise
. It cain’t only be him that’s got a conscience. There must be other Tonton who feel the same. But enough of ’em to make a difference when the time comes?

What time though? When? An where? Auriel will tell me. Auriel will know.

All my roads lead to the same place, she said. It’s my destiny. That’s what she said. Well, I bin walkin my roads, takin one step at a time since that terrible day I left Silverlake. An I’m still walkin an I still don’t know where all of this is leadin me to. The babies, the slaves, the seedstore. DeMalo’s false visions. The blood moon’s comin. I hafta finish this somehow. If I put one foot wrong, it’ll be the end of us. But I cain’t see what to do next. I ain’t got no certainty. I won’t till I can speak to Auriel.

My destiny. Is that what this is? What I’m doin? I didn’t choose it, but that ain’t how destiny works. Auriel said that long before I was born, a train of events was set in motion. Auriel said … Auriel said. Destiny or no, one step at a time has led me here an will lead me on. An this is happenin an will be, an whatever will be I mustn’t fear. Jest like Pa told me.

They’re gonna need you, Saba. Lugh an Emmi. An there’ll be
others too. Many others. Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, like I know you are
.

The lack of him suddenly knifes me in the chest. Not the hollowed-out man he was after Ma went. But my handsome young father, so strong an steady. I’d crawl into his arms as nightfall came. An I’d listen to his heartbeat an feel him breathe an know I was safe in the world. Now all I can do is hold fast to his words. Hold fast to myself. An go forwards, step by step, on this road that only I can walk.

No matter what comes. Whatever will be.

My time ticks away. Only three nights to go.

T
HE DARK COMES UPON US EARLY.
I
T TAKES US BY SURPRISE
. The fog ain’t lifted all day. It’s made heavy weather of our travel. By middle afternoon, the sullen red sun dies. We’re muffled in misty darkness.

Even if it warn’t too dangerous to go on, nightfall means curfew in New Eden. We pull off the road an make a camp among the trees.

I take first watch while the boys sleep. My mind circles in a swamp of shallow fears. I hear whispers in the fog. Movement in the black heart of the night. Lugh relieves me when I done my time.

I lie down, close my eyes an try to sleep. But rest won’t come to me. What comes to me is

the faint, far-off sobs of a child.

The dry rustle of bones hung in trees.

I wait fer the night to pass.

We pause at the crossroads where we hijacked Slim. The one with the sourfruit trees. We’re in the bleak nowhere now.
That means little danger of discovery. The boys shed their Tonton robes while I strip off Molly’s dress an dump the corn-husk belly. I ain’t felt like myself since Peg helped me tog up. That was yesterday morning already. Manuel climbs down from the cart to stretch his legs. We pass around waterskins an wet our dry throats.

There’s a harsh beauty to this place. It seems somewhere in a dream. A white hotwind sky that scalds yer skin. The great forest of red pine frozen to stone an the baked cracked red earth. The scattered remains of light towers. A hazy shimmer of mountains far north.

I have a fancy that our voices linger in this place. That that moment of decision still murmurs in the dust, echoes in the frozen pine branches. All of us hot an quarrelsome. Arguin over which way we oughta go. Me determined to press on to the Lost Cause with nuthin in mind but to find Jack. Lugh pullin in the opposite direction. Anxious to turn back, to head west to the Big Water. If we’d done as he wanted, Maev might still be alive. I wouldn’t of fallen to DeMalo. We wouldn’t be speedin now towards the sharp point of our lives.

What should I whisper to myself? There at the crossroads of the past? What should I tell myself to do? Listen to Lugh an turn back? Or forge onwards, though I know what lies ahead?

I catch Lugh’s eye. I can tell that he’s hearin our voices too. But did we, do we, ever really have a choice? It seems our course was set long before that crossroads moment.

They’re gonna need you, Saba. Be strong, like I know you are. An never give up. Never. No matter what happens
.

I won’t. I ain’t no quitter, Pa.

I buckle on my jerkin an armbands. I tie Auriel’s shawl around me like a sash. I ain’t no quitter. One step at a time, I’ll see this thing finished. I ain’t got no fear on my own account. But fer them that I love, I fear plenty. If that makes me a bad leader, so be it. I look at Lugh an Tommo. I says, You know that you ain’t obliged to come with me.

But they’re both swingin theirselves onto horseback an Manuel’s jumped in the cart, reins in hand, ready to move at the word.

C’mon then, says Tommo.

Let’s go, says Lugh.

So I swing myself up onto Hermes. An I lead us on north to Nass Camp.

Our landmark looms into view. The rusted stub of a single light tower leg. Ash is perched on the topmost beam. The moment she spots us, she shouts out somethin, then swarms down the leg to the ground. Nero sails off to greet her. By the time we roll to a stop, Creed’s appeared. As the boys an me
dismount an Manuel halts the cart, he strides towards us with a big white grin. Ear rings janglin, coat tails flappin, his hair wild tossed by the wind.

That smile better mean they’re here, I says.

You ask an the magic man delivers, he says. He takes my hand an ushers me forwards.

Don’t believe him, says Ash. They was already in New Eden. We met ’em jest after they’d crossed the Yann Gap.

Creed flings his arms wide. Behold, he says. Yer army!

We’re lookin down a mild slope into Nass Camp. I dunno what I espected, but it warn’t this. A dry flat valley of white rocks, bright in the middle day sun. The strangest rocks I ever seen. A close-packed clutter of cones, pillars, mushrooms an chimleys. Small, large an every size in between. Some rise many foot high in the air. They’ve bin carved by human hands into honeycombs of caves, nooks an holes. But it ain’t the rocks that drop my jaw. It’s what’s camped among them.

Good gawd, says Lugh. He sounds as numb as I feel.

This is everybody, I says.

Every last one of ’em, says Creed.

The Snake River camp has picked up an moved here. Their flotsam skellies, teepees an ragtents scatter all about between the rocks. Their carts an horses an other beasts. They’ve took over some of the caves as well. I spy Auriel’s patchwork tent. Dogs chase. Children play. I hear Moses, in full-throated bellow of complaint. I spot Slim at the same time he spots us. He
raises his hand an shouts welcome. A few kids start runnin towards us. Then everybody begins to move in our direction.

How many? says Tommo.

A hunnerd twenny three, says Ash. That’s accordin to Auriel. An she should know.

I feel instantly sick. Seein ’em all here like this, all together, it hits me. They’re my responsibility now.

Over the Yann Gap, says Tommo. But we wrecked that bridge.

There’s a new one, says Ash. The Pathfinder’s bin busy. An not jest the bridge. They also cleared the Wraithway of yer pals, them skull collectors. How’s about this, Saba? Struck dumb, huh?

Dumb. Shocked. But I take in what she says. DeMalo’s built his bridgehead to the west. Of course he has. The maps in the seedstore roll out in my mind. The land an the waters, to the west, east, north, south. All of it DeMalo’s to control.

Take me to Auriel, I says.

By this time the kids is on top of us. Grubby urchins, gabblin an leapin with excitement as they help with the horses an cart. Then they’re all upon us. We’re swept along in a tide of warm bodies towards the camp. These people who’ve trekked from the Snake River. What a difference from the first time we met them there. With fear-filled faces an weapons in their hands, they would of done us mortal harm had Auriel not stopped ’em. They’d fled fer their lives from DeMalo an the Tonton. An they knew about me, the Angel of Death who’d
razed Hopetown to the ground. Him an me was one an the same in their eyes, bringers of misery an death.