Raging Star (37 page)

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Authors: Moira Young

BOOK: Raging Star
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Molly had handed him a gift. Not just a few hours’ sleep, but a whole night. It was late afternoon. They’d be on the move again the moment Saba woke. That would probably be around dawn. His timing would be tight. But he had to chance it. He was depending on Nero’s speed. And his need to get back to Saba as soon as possible. Luckily, the changeable hotwind had died. So that wouldn’t slow him down
.

He pondered for a bit. He made a few careful marks on the scroll. He drew the same marks on the piece of paper rolled inside the
oilskin. After he’d rolled the skin back up and tied it with string, he put it safely in his pouch
.

Then he waited till Nero had finished and wiped his beak clean on a grass tuft. You missed some, he said, and picked a fleck of corn from his head. As he tied the scroll to Nero’s leg, he noticed that his fingers were trembling. He stood, cradling Nero’s warmth to his chest
.

Find Jack. Nero, find Jack, he said
.

Then he gave him up to the air. The great black wings began to row steadily. Onward, westward, he watched. As their future beat towards the sun’s red blaze
.

NIGHT TWO

O
NCE THEY WERE LYING ON THEIR HARD BUNKS, BEFORE SLEEP TOOK
hold, Emmi did as she’d done last night. Her first night at Edenhome. She spoke quietly but clearly, so every girl in the bunkhouse could hear. She said
,

My name is Emmi. I come from Silverlake. My folks was Willem an Allis. I got a sister an a brother. He’s got blue eyes, the same as me
.

She started them off, then they took it in turns, up and down the bunks and around and along, keeping strictly to order. Their name, where they came from, who their people were. The more timid ones whispered so you could hardly hear
.

It’s what Mercy had done, when she was in the slave gangs. She’d talked to Mercy a lot. Told her how afraid she’d been when the Pinches snatched them. When Saba was taken from her to fight in the Cage. When the Tonton took her prisoner to Resurrection. Mercy said she’d been afraid when they slaved her. Saying her name and where she was from helped her remember who she was. And it helped the other slaves too. It helped keep them strong. The kids here were prisoners as much as the slaves
.

Last night, as they’d settled in for sleep, she knew she had to do the same. Even though such talk was forbidden. They had no family now but Mother Earth. They only lived to serve her. Emmi had no idea if the girls could be trusted. If anyone told on her she’d be set
for a beating. Like the boy at supper yesterday. He couldn’t sit for the pain, couldn’t eat. He was made to stand at his place, red-eyed from crying, a warning to them all. So, before she could lose her nerve, she just dived in and did like Mercy. When she’d finished, there was a long silence. Then, from the bunk below, Nell began to speak who she was. After her, the rest followed on
.

And nobody told. Not yet, anyway. But secrets would be hard to keep in this place. The only safe place for a secret was inside your own head, shared with no one. If only they knew. She had the biggest secret of all inside hers
.

Soon Saba would come. The Angel of Death was coming to free them. To take them back to their families
.

As their voices murmured in the dark, her hand went to it cautiously. That very afternoon, she’d been sent for a hammer. And there it was, in a dark corner on the floor of the shed. It must have fallen and nobody noticed. In the leap of a heartbeat, it was in her hand and she’d tucked it in the waist of her unders. Now she pushed it out of sight, into the space between her bunk and the wall. Her stolen treasure. A wire cutter
.

Another big secret that no one could know
.

I come to with a stone-heavy head. Dull an dull-witted. Fer a long moment, I cain’t place where I am. There’s the wide
sound of rainfall. The smell of damp cool. The wash of grey dawnlight on smooth pale stone walls. I’m in the den. Nass Camp. Dismay jolts me. I must of slept through the night. I told Molly clearly, a couple of hours, no more. She’s still here. Sat on the ground, leaned aginst the wall with closed eyes. Has she bin watchin on me the whole time? She starts awake at the first sounds of my stirrin.

It’s rainin, I says.

Jest started, she says.

You coshed me, I says. Slowly, stupidly, I start to sit.

No, no, don’t move. She props me up aginst her shoulder. Here, drink this. It’ll help clear yer head. I sip from the cup she holds to my lips. It’s water. With the faintest hint of somethin bitter. That dose I gave you was nuthin, she says. But you was on yer last legs. It hit you hard.

I says, One dose to sleep, another to wake. How often d’you do this, Moll?

She gives me brown-eyed blankness. I know that look. I should mind my own business. Drink it all down, she says.

I drain the cup, to my dry throat’s relief. How often d’you do it? I says.

Hardly at all these days, she says. I save it fer the big stuff. Y’know—she gives a little shrug—when life jest gits too much to bear. You do look better fer a night of rest.

I may thank you fer it later, but not now, I says. I should of bin gone ages ago. Gimme a hand up.

Outside, a chill grey world rains an rains. Steadily. Patiently. The ground’s turnin to mud. I find Nero huddled half asleep on the dry of a ledge. Webb Reno’s there too. Crouched on his haunches with a little cloth bundle, shelterin unner his drippin cloak. He jumps to his feet. Ready when you are, ma’am, he says.

No more ma’am, please. I’m Saba, I says. You kissed yer wife g’bye, Webb?

Well, sure, he says.

Go kiss her agin. I got a couple things to do.

Nass Camp’s bin awake fer some time, includin Lugh an Tommo. I got a hunger on me fer once. They take me to a shelter that’s bin rigged fer cookin. A stringy old fella fries me a tin of corn porridge. While I share it with Nero they tell me how the war parties slipped away in the night one by one. Slim an Creed, Ash an Manuel an their peaceful army of sixty souls. They couldn’t wait to be gone, Lugh says, their hearts was so fired by what I said.

It was stirrin stuff, says Molly.

I cain’t remember more’n bits of it, flashes. It’s hazy in my memory, like I dreamed it. I ain’t never bin a good talker, but it’s strange what you can do in the moment. It won’t be long now till some of ’em show up to New Eden farms. What I’d give to be there. To know right away if this works. It has to work. What can I wish by? The stars, the sun? Maybe Slim’s old rabbit foot. No doubt he’ll rub it enough fer all of us.

The moment I sat down to eat, a gaggle of silent kids gathered to stare. I can jest see ’em from the corner of my eye. One tow-headed chancer, braver’n the rest, edges closer, bit by bit. Till I can hear his breath, shallow an nervous, at my elbow. They’re puttin me off my grub. I growl an they scatter, shriekin with terrified delight.

After food an sage tea, I’m anxious to be gone. My head’s clearin, but the weather sure ain’t. I wrap my sheema around an pull my coat collar up. As I splash to an fro in the mud, gittin Hermes ready, I realize I ain’t seen Auriel this mornin. I better say g’bye before we ride out.

Lugh an Tommo walk their horses towards me, wavin that we need to go. They’re in their Tonton gear, lookin smart. Black knee robes, polished boots an kit. Webb follows behind on a pony. With him along, I figgered on travellin to Edenhome the roundabout ways. Far safer. But I didn’t figger we’d be so late to set off. An cross country will be rough goin in this rain. Do we dare try our luck on the roads agin?

In that silent way of hers, Auriel appears by my side. A patchwork parasol keeps the rain off. In such murk, she don’t need her eyeshield. Her pale eyes flare like ice in the gloom. I came to wish you luck, she says.

I’m sure I’ll need it, I says.

I got every confidence in you. She hesitates a moment, then she says, I don’t think you know this. We wouldn’t of made it in time if it warn’t fer Emmi.

Emmi, I says.

The starfall told us to come, says Auriel, but when I started gittin her messages, we hurried here quick as we could.

What messages? I says.

They came through the light, she says. But they started in the earth.

Speak plain, I says. I ain’t got time fer this.

Yer sister’s had the call, she says. Emmi’s a shaman, Saba. She’s an earth speaker. An I’d say a powerful one if this is how she starts off, without no teacher to guide her.

I stare at her, speechless. Emmi, a shaman.

Saba, calls Lugh. We need to go.

Don’t worry an don’t dwell on it, says Auriel. It’s a wonderful thing. I’ll see her right. D’you have all you need fer now?

Fer the first time, I notice the clothes she’s got on. The same long black tunic she wore yesterday. I’m that much taller’n her, it would hang on me like a robe. A black Tonton robe.

There is one thing I could do with, I says.

So far an no further. The first four checkpoints went easy. Lugh shouted out the password as we drew alongside an after
a second shout, sometimes a third, the lowliest grunt would run from the guard hut. He’d splash through the chill rain an mud to lift the barrier. Then, wait, wetly sullen, fer us to pass through. Three Tonton with our prisoner, Webb, chained at the wrists. We hardly even got glanced at.

Now it seems we’re outta luck. Our fifth checkpoint. The start of the Sector Eight Eastway. The guy that comes runnin is keen-eyed an bright. What right away attracts the notice of them keen eyes is me. An, in particular, my boots.

They’re knee high, like the ones Tommo an Lugh wear. An we’re all of us muddy an wet through. But my boots is brown an scuffed. Not like theirs, black with a high shine. Which is how Tonton boots oughta be. None of us gave a thought to it. I damn myself fer a hasty fool. Danger bristles my spine as his gaze takes me in, head to toe. My hands tighten on the reins. Both my gear an Hermes’ kit is well offa the Tonton mark.

I’m ridin at the rear. He ignores Webb, on a pony in front of me. Goes directly to Lugh an Tommo, ridin side by side at the front. Careful, boys, take care, we cain’t fail now. I can see the tension in their backs, in their shoulders, as the guy circles, givin them an their horses a good look. He takes his time. Not bothered that rain drips from his chin. That his hair’s plastered to his head. He pauses beside Lugh. Says somethin to him. Lugh says somethin back. Then he goes to Tommo an checks him over. Says somethin to him. Tommo nods.

I’ve had to let the boys wear weapons. They wouldn’t pass fer Tonton if they didn’t. Shooters, knives, ammo belts, the works. I don’t want we should hafta use ’em, but—

Then I sag with relief. He’s liftin the barrier an wavin us on. I nod as I pass by him, but he don’t look my way. Whatever the boys said, it’s turned his notice. From my dodgy gear to the comferts of a stove. His eyes is fixed on the guard hut. Maybe a sly tot to warm his blood.

We’re through. Now, no stoppin till Edenhome.

His body was trembling as they rode on. He’d done it. He could hardly believe his luck. The moment she said they’d go by road, he’d known this would be his best and probably his only chance to get the message to DeMalo in time. After they’d been waved through the first four checkpoints, he’d started to fear that he wouldn’t manage it. That the whole thing would fall apart. And he dreaded the moment of being stopped, of making his move. So much could go wrong. What if DeMalo hadn’t set it up like he said he would?

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