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Authors: Moira Young

Tags: #Young Adult Dystopian Fantasy

Rebel Heart (13 page)

BOOK: Rebel Heart
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There’s a darkenin sky. The wind blows hard. The old man stands by the twisted tree.

Auriel’s voice. In my head. Ask the pain what it wants of you, she says.

He holds a bow in his hands. It’s white, like the twisted tree. Pale, silvery white.

To hold my bow in my hands agin, says I.

He holds it out. He offers it to me.

Will you take it? says Auriel.

I take it.

The bow was his, she says. My grandfather, Namid, the Star Dancer. The warrior who became a shaman. Now it belongs to you.

I feel its smoothness. Heft its weight. It’s sweet. It’s true. I swing the bow up. Fit a arrow to the string. It cleaves to me. Like it’s part of me. My hands stay steady an sure. No shakes. No trembles.

It’s one piece of wood, she says. The heartwood of the ancient whiteoak. It won’t ever break.

Then the shaman’s gone. I stand alone at the edge of the world. An I hold the white bow in my hands. I aim at the tree, now covered with leaf, green an fresh. The silver bark of its trunk an branches, rough with life.

I shoot.

The tree splits straight down the middle. There’s a flash of lightnin. A rush of wind. Then the rumble, the thunder of hoofs.

The tree’s gone. A body’s there. Lyin there on the ground. On its back. Not movin. My arrow stuck in its heart.

I’m beside it. Kneelin down. My hand reachin out. To the dark red, blood red shawl that covers the face. I draw it aside.

It’s Lugh. He’s dead. My arrow stuck in his heart.

I draw the shawl aside. It’s Jack. Dead. My arrow stuck in his heart.

Then it’s me.

Then DeMalo.

He opens his eyes.

He smiles.

He sees me, I says. He knows me.

All right, she says, it’s okay, I couldn’t quite – I need you to think about him agin. Picture him. Don’t block it.

Tall. Black robes. Metal body armour, breastplate an armbands. Long dark hair tied back. A watchful face. Strong, with broad cheekbones. Eyes so dark they’re almost black.

Ah, she breathes. Tell me his name.

DeMalo, I says.

What does he see? she says. What does he know?

The shadows, says I. Inside me.

We need to look into them, she says. See what’s there. Are you ready?

Yes, I says.

Don’t be afeared, she says. I’m with you, Saba.

I’m crossin a lake in the mountains. In a bark canoe. I’m paddlin. Nero’s huddled, a ragged shadow perched on the prow of the boat. He stares straight ahead.

My pilot. My watchman. My crow.

It’s blackest night. It’s bitterest cold. Above me, the hard stars stab. Like chips of ice.

The water parts as my boat glides through. My paddle dips an drags. It dips. An drags.

I don’t look over the side. I don’t even dare to glance. If I did look, if I dared to, night or no, I’d see ’em. I’d look down down down to the bottom. To the ancient bed of the lake. Where the dark things crouch. Where the old things wait. Where they crouch an wait . . . fer me.

Look down, says Auriel.

Saba! Saba! It’s Lugh’s voice.

Stay there, Saba. Stay with it, we’re nearly there. Auriel’s voice is calm.

Saba! Hey, Saba! Come quick!

Lugh. Callin. Lugh. Needs me.

Saba! he calls.

Lugh, I says.

Don’t move, Auriel whispers.

A rustle. The shush of her rattles. Cool air slides in. It cuts through the heat. I shiver. She’s gone outside.

I begin to rise from the dark deepness. Start to come up from the deep darkness. My self gathers itself.

I feel the ground, hard unnerneath me. The air’s thick in the tent. Stuffy. Hot. I’m laid on my side, knees hugged to my chest. I’m shakin. My teeth chatter. I’m freezin one moment, burnin the next. My head’s tight. It throbs.

The plant. The cactus tea. I let it in. It took me over. I set it loose inside me.

Voices outside the tent. Too loud. Hurtin my head. Lugh. Emmi. Tommo. I cain’t make out what they’re sayin. They’re talkin on top of each other. Jumbled, tumbled words. Auriel’s voice too, low an urgent.

I don’t care, she needs to come now! Lugh’s voice. So close, so loud, like a shock of cold water. An his hand on my arm, shakin me. Saba, c’mon, wake up!

Then I’m tryin to drag my eyes open an he’s pullin me up to sit an Auriel’s sayin, Lugh, stop it! You don’t know what yer doin. If she comes outta the vision too quick, she might—

I know what’s best fer my sister, he says. You bin here all night, that’s time enough. Saba! Hey, Saba, there’s somebody comin.

My eyes is open now. I see Lugh’s tense face. His bright eyes. He’s wound tight with excitement.

They’re ridin into camp right now, he says.

My heart quickens. Jack, I says. It’s Jack. He’s here.

C’mon, he says. C’mon! He helps me to stand. I stagger. He grabs me. I’m dizzy, my legs shake, my stummick tilts.

Don’t, says Auriel, please, Lugh, don’t! Saba, we gotta—

But he’s already leadin me outside, holdin me around the waist. The hard white light of day stabs my eyes. I shade ’em with my hand.

Look! he says. Look!

There’s a horse an rider, comin towards us down the row of tents an shelters. The rider’s low an slumped. The horse is slow. Heavy footed. Like they bin travellin too hard an too fast fer too long.

Nero an Tracker lead the way. Emmi an Tommo walk on eether side. People gather. Some follow, curious.

Auriel comes outta the tent behind us. Saba, she says, please come back. We gotta finish proper. It’s dangerous to—

Not now! Lugh says.

The rider’s covered head to foot with the white dust of the Waste. Long hair in a wild tangle. It’s a girl. I cain’t see her eyes from here. But I know they’re green. Deep an rich an alive. Like forest moss.

My breath catches. Then I’m stumblin towards her. Runnin towards her. Sayin her name.

Maev, I says. Maev!

I thought we seen the last of her.

It was the day we fought the Tonton at Pine Top Hill. We was outnumbered. Me, Lugh, Emmi an Tommo, Jack an Ash an Ike. Seven of us aginst Vicar Pinch an sixty some odd Tonton. Outnumbered, outwitted an about to be food fer the vultures. Till Maev showed up, that is. Thanks to her an her Free Hawks an that wild boy Creed with his Western Road Raiders, we beat ’em good. Well, that’s what we thought at the time.

It’s bin near enough two full moons since then.

I cain’t credit that Maev’s here. That I ain’t still in my vision or seein ghosts. She don’t look like nuthin livin, dusted white with the earth as she is. Emmi’s beamin ear to ear. Tommo too. Nero shrieks an calls with excitement.

Lugh takes her horse’s bridle an brings him to a halt.

Slowly she lifts her head. Almost like she’s afeared. Then she turns her eyes on me. An in them, I read her ruin.

Maev, I says. What happened?

Her mouth moves. No sound comes out. She tries agin.

Saba. My name cracks from her parched lips.

Lugh, I says, help her down.

I found you. She sways in the saddle, her gaze fixed on me. Then she slumps an slides to the ground.

Lugh an Tommo catch her. Somebody comes runnin with a stool an they help her onto it.

Water! Auriel calls out. Somebody bring water!

Maev waves everybody away, weakly. I gotta talk to Saba, she mutters.

A woman rushes up with a full pan. Lugh holds it to Maev’s lips. The moment she feels the wetness, she takes it in her own hands. At first, jest sips. Then gasps an gulps. Down her desperate, grateful throat. Water trickles an spills. It snakes through the dust that coats her. Her face, her neck, her clothes. She drinks the pan dry.

As she gits her breath back, she looks at me. The Tonton came to Darktrees, she says. They cleared us out.

The cold starts in my stummick. Cleared out the Free Hawks, I says.

The Raiders too, she says. Right after Pine Top Hill, we started to hear rumours the Tonton was rallyin. Regroupin after the death of Pinch. We decided we’d all stick together. Safety in numbers. We kept pickin up little bits of news here an there, but nuthin to hang yer hat on. Ash an Creed was all fer leavin right away, but you don’t abandon a place like Darktrees on a rumour. Good water an huntin ain’t easy to come by. I dug my heels in. We stayed.

What happened? says Lugh.

They came in the middle of the night, she says. We had three on watch but it was so dark . . . There warn’t no moon. An there was too many of ’em.

But the Hawks got away, says Emmi. Ash an Ruby an Taz an . . . everybody got away, right, Maev?

Her voice wobbles. She knows. We all do.

They come on us too fast, says Maev. Between heartbeats, it seemed. One moment quiet, the next there they was, on top of us. Most people was asleep. Some never even woke up. The lucky ones.

Silent tears spill down Emmi’s cheeks.

No chance to fight, says Auriel. No chance to run. But here you are.

I was awake, she says. Me an Ash an Creed, we sat up talkin about the Tonton. Arguin, them two aginst me. What we oughta do, where we could go. They’d jest managed to talk me around. Finally convinced me it ’ud be the safest thing if we all left. We was gonna break camp in the mornin.

I says, How’d you git away?

I had help, she says.

Who from? says Tommo.

A Tonton, she says.

A Tonton helped you git away, says Lugh. Why would he do that?

She looks at me. As her hand goes to her neck. As she pulls a leather string over her head. As she holds out her hand. As she opens her fingers an shows me what’s there.

It’s a stone. A rose pink stone. The shape of a bird’s egg. The length of my thumb.

Saba, says Tommo, ain’t that yer heartstone?

It cain’t be, says Emmi, she gave it to Jack.

I reach out. I take it. My skin knows it, so smooth an cool. My hand welcomes it like a friend. The coldness inside me starts.

It was him, says Maev. He’s one of ’em. Jack’s with the Tonton, Saba.

BOOK: Rebel Heart
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