Raging Star (38 page)

But he had. It worked just as they’d discussed
.

He’d moved, just a little. Shifted so the Tonton could see what he needed to. The grunt’s eyes widened. He knew who he was. Then, as
they rode on, he let the little roll of oilskin drop to the ground. The grunt would look for it, find it when they were out of sight. Then the message would be rushed to DeMalo
.

And Jack would be gone from their lives forever
.

We’re back where we was three nights ago. In the shelter of the woods lookin through the fencewire at Edenhome. We left our horses in the same mossy dell. We was three that night-time. This day-time, with Webb, we’re four. The rain’s stopped at last. The sun cooks the world to a close, damp warmth. Steam rises from the trees an our clothes as the water melts to the air. About the only place that ain’t heavy with wet is the woodland floor beneath our feet.

The same cain’t be said of Edenhome. The open ground between the buildins is a lake of mud. A straggly trail of ankle-deep bootprints runs to the half-raised junkbarn. There a handful of older boys work with a man who ain’t a Tonton. We can see a few kids an a couple of women walkin on boards between the beast sheds. The ducks quackle complaints as Nero teases ’em from his perch on their house. It appears everybody else is keepin indoors. The sound of kids’ voices raised in song spills from a open window. Saws an hammers
racket in a workshop. There’s movement inside the two bunkhouses. There ain’t no fence patrols, no sign of the armoured boarhounds. They’re fer night watch only, it seems.

Beside me, Webb’s got a death grip on the looker. He scans it back an forth, twitchy with hope that his daughter might be here. The door of the right hand bunkhouse stands open. A girl with a bucket appears there. She empties it in a slow stream onto the muddy ground below. After her, there’s a little parade of girls. To an fro, they come an go. Ditchin dirty water, emptyin dustpans, shakin rags. They’re on cleanup duty. Four girls in all. But no sign of copper-top Nell.

Nero caws insults. The ducks quack their fury.

We’re wastin time, says Webb. He lowers the looker, shakin his head. Let’s check out them sheds an barns.

Hang on, I says. A girl with blaze-red hair’s jest appeared in the doorway of the bunkhouse.

Webb whips the looker onto her. Yes! he hisses. It’s her!

She flings out the dirt from her dustpan. With a glance at the duckpond commotion she’s gone in a swish of long red plait.

Webb grabs my arm, his face fired with joy. That’s my Nell! It’s her! She’s here!

Emmi! Nell laughed. You should see this crow! It’s out there drivin the ducks crazy
.

The other four girls carried on with their chores. Wiping down the bunks, scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees. Emmi stared at Nell, her heart pounding. A crow. Could it be? She dropped her broom with a clatter and ran to the door. Yes! It was. It was Nero. Circling above the ducks, teasing them. She had to stop herself yelling his name
.

She stepped barefoot into the mud and stared at the woods the other side of the fence. Was Saba in there? The trees grew too thick and it was too far to see. But she had other ways of knowing. She crouched briefly, her eyes closed, and pressed her hands through the mud to solid ground. She was already used to the earthsong of this place. A low sad murmur. Always the same, day and night. Now her hands and feet brought another song to her. The same one she’d followed from Starlight Lanes. They were here. Saba and Lugh and Tommo. The song was coming from the woods
.

This was it. Jest like Saba had promised. This was the big gawdamn rumble. And she was ready. She was ready to move
.

We draw back a bit an talk in whispers. Nell’s inside. That’s the first step. I’d feared Webb might be the excitable sort, that
I’d hafta rein him in, but it turns out he’s steady. An he claims his Nell’s steady too. I hope so. She’ll need to be.

Lugh starts tellin us this plan he’s cooked up. It’s way too complicated an won’t ever work. But I keep my mouth shut. Let him have his say. It’ll gimme some time to think this through. I glance at Nero, who’s jest lofted into the branches above. He’s so well trained as a messenger, he might be the key. Meantime, I’ll keep my eye on what’s happenin. You never know what lucky chance might arise. I train the looker on the yard.

I catch the last flash of another girl, as she disappears back inside the bunkhouse. By her size it’s one we ain’t seen before. That’s four girls, plus Nell, an now this one makes six.

Emmi ran back inside and scrambled onto her bunk
.

As a couple of the girls rushed to mop the tracks of mud, scolding her in low, furious voices, Nell said, Emmi? What is it? What’s up?

By now she’d pulled the wire cutter from the gap next to the wall. She jumped to the floor. Listen, she said. Listen! There ain’t much time! The girls fell silent and stared at her. At the cutters she held in her hand
.

You stole that? said Frankie
.

What do I care fer stealin? she said. My real name’s Emmi of the
Free Hawks. I defeated the Tonton at Resurrection an Hopetown. My sister’s the mighty warrior they call the Angel of Death. She’s here, right now, in the woods with our fighters. They’re gonna take you back to yer families. An I’m gonna git you outta here. She held the cutter high. We’re gonna escape through the fence
.

I know! said Nell. The buckets! We’ll pretend to weed. She seized the nearest one and dumped out the water. Here! She shoved it at Bly, who was standing there, open mouthed. Well, are you comin? she said
.

Yes, said Bly
.

Me too! Frankie jumped to her feet and emptied her bucket
.

The Angel of Death! Lin clutched her scrub brush to her chest. Only just eight and timid to the bone, she’d do whatever her friend Runa did
.

Don’t be afeared, she won’t hurt you, said Emmi
.

Runa dumped out their buckets, saying, Me an Lin’s comin too. But today ain’t a garden work day. Becuz of the mud. An there ain’t no weeds to weed
.

Now that the moment was here, Emmi was surprised at how cool she was. How calm. Just like Saba had told her to be. If we do it like we mean it, she said, nobody’ll say boo. They’ll think somebody else told us to weed. We walk there in a line, like normal. Nell goes first. Me last. When we git there, stick close together, right next to the fence. If there ain’t no weeds, pick the mud. Frankie, you keep watch. The rest of yuz, cover me while I cut the wire. Git ready to move fast when I tell you. If we do this quick an quiet, nobody’ll
even know we’re gone. Don’t worry, I done loads of escapes. You ready?

They all nodded. Their eyes were wide and excited and fearful
.

She put the cutter in her bucket. Let’s go, she said
.

As I sweep the looker back to the bunkhouse, Nell slips out the door, bucket in hand. A little line of girls follows behind her, different ages an sizes, all carryin buckets. They’re makin a straight line fer the garden patch in front of us. Webb’s right, his Nell’s got a determined look about her.

Quick, this might be our chance, I says.

They hustle to crouch beside me. Look! says Tommo. At the back there!

I train the looker on the girl bringin up the rear. My heart stops. That stubborn chin. Them eyes. As big an blue as the sky.

Emmi! says Lugh. What’s she doin here?

Ohmigawd, I says.

The penny drops. Why nobody could find her the other mornin at the Lanes. She was gone. She was already here.

She followed us, I says. The other night. She’s bin here ever since. C’mon, we need to git closer.

We dodge our way to a big bull pine that crowds the fence next to the garden patch. The girls squelch their way through the mud an kneel near the wire, close together. They start dumpin handfuls of wet dirt in their buckets. I stare, puzzled fer a moment. Then I realize. From a distance, it’ll look like they’re weedin. This ain’t no lucky chance. Em saw Nero. She’s got a plan.

Lugh an Tommo huddle close to me. They know we’re here, I whisper. Lugh mouths it to Webb, behind the tree next to us. He nods.

There’s one girl on watch. She keeps checkin to see if anybody’s takin notice of ’em. Nobody is. The ducks paddle on the pond. The junkbarn work party bashes an clatters a good seventy foot away. Emmi scuttles right to the fence. She takes a wire cutter from her bucket an starts snippin. She has to use both hands.

Emmi, I hiss, it’s me! No, no, don’t look. Stop what yer doin an listen. What the hell’re you up to?

She keeps on cuttin. Whaddya think? she says. I’m cuttin the fence so these can escape. That’s why yer here. I told ’em so.

Emmi, stop! I says. We need more’n six to git out. D’you hear me, Em? Stop!

She don’t pay no heed. On she snips. We still okay, Frankie? she says.

All clear, says the girl on watch.

While they’re talkin, Webb’s sayin to me, I dunno whatever else you got planned, but my girl’s comin outta there right now.