Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (2 page)

Someone was following her. At first she believed it to be the same men coming back for revenge, but this follower wasn't as clumsy as the men had been. From the way this new pursuer moved she knew he was smaller, lighter, and probably scared of her. Every time she turned around, a small shadow disappeared behind the nearest wall. Each time she moved, the shuffle of anxious feet somewhere behind her followed.

People followed her for all kinds of reasons. Most were men like the last two, but sometimes other orphans followed her, and sometimes people hoping to kill her followed her home and waited until she slept. She always watched them, and never relaxed until she knew they were gone.

This one was different. Rachael was curious but she wasn't going to approach them while they stayed hidden in the shadows. She had learned not to bother people who weren't bothering her directly.

Her frozen feet carried her past the market and into the dark back alleys, where shop owners sometimes left food for her and stray animals. Today the pavement was empty. Her stomach complained at the sight, but Rachael paid no attention to it. It always hurt more when she did.

Tired and hungry, she made her way back to the small spot she called home for now. Most people avoided this part of the city. Word spread quickly in a place like Blackrock. No one wanted to take the risk of being told about their death, or that of a loved one, so there was always someone watching her every step. If she moved to a new place people would know about it.

Today, however, she wasn't alone. Her silent follower was still there. He was more persistent than most, but most would have attacked by now. This one was simply watching her from a distance, and it put her mind on edge.

Whoever it was, she needed to know what they were up to. "You might as well come out. I know you've been following me all day." People either cornered her and attacked, or they realised who she was and left. No one had ever stuck to her trail for so long.

A small girl tripped into sight. Rachael recognised her as the baker's daughter, but that made no sense. As far as Rachael knew, her father kept a tight leash on her and her siblings, and her parents were both alive. His shop was always busy, yet she didn't look like the child of a wealthy business man.

Younger than her, she nearly fell to the frozen ground but caught herself just in time. Her tiny frame was even more fragile than Rachael's, but better fed.  Her eyes looked watery even from this distance, and her thin arms were shaking and bruised. She was the most vulnerable thing Rachael had ever seen. Her face and feet were covered in dirt, her hands holding a loaf of bread.

Rachael's mouth watered.

"What do you want?" Rachael had come to expect danger from people who had followed her before. This girl didn't look dangerous, but looks could be deceiving, and suspicion could make a huge difference.

"I—" Rachael didn't miss the girl's nervous glances back the way she had come, and instinctively knew why the girl was there. It had happened before, more times than Rachael could count.

"If someone has sent you on a dare, you've seen me. You can go, there's nothing more for you to see." More fortunate children who had a family and a home had made a game out of sending shy and unpopular children to her on a dare. Seeing Rachael up close was considered brave—talking to her earned them respect. It made sense that this girl, the baker's daughter, would be involved with them.

"I..."

"What is it? I said you can leave, there's nothing here for you." Rachael had learned that being harsh was often the only way to get rid of people. Vulnerable or not, Rachael wasn't going to be nice to someone who had only come to her to prove her courage.

Slowly, the girl took a few uncertain steps towards her. With her tiny hands she tore the loaf of bread in two, and laid one half in front of Rachael's feet.

"I'm not scared of you, and..." Rachael could tell that the girl was lying. Her whole body was shaking, and she had her thin arms wrapped around herself for comfort. "... and I want you to have this." Just like that, the girl spun around and ran off before Rachael had the chance to say something back.  Her eyes were glued to the piece of bread lying by her feet. It was still warm and slowly melted the snow around it, extending its warmth to Rachael's cold feet. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a big piece.

The smell reached her nose, making her mouth water. Her stomach tightened, urging her to take a bite. When the feeling grew too strong she gave in, and finished most of it within a few short minutes. The rest she wrapped in her blanket for later. At this time of year any food was valuable, and she wasn't going to waste it when it was offered to her so freely. It might have been the only food she would get all week.

Her eyes sought the dark alley ahead of her for the girl, but there was no sign of her. Rachael thought she could hear a boy teasing and laughing in the distance, but for all she knew it was unrelated. Whomever had dared the girl had likely accepted her to play with him and his friends by now. Tonight they'd go home to their parents, and sleep in their warm beds with more food on their tables than they could ever need. The small loaf of bread had been nothing to the girl, Rachael was sure.  Her rich parents could easily bake more. They were humans, she was just another stray. If someone wanted to poke her with a sharp stick they could poke her until she bled, and no one would step in to save her.

She had learned a long time ago that the only one who could save her was herself.

For the first time in a long while, Rachael fell asleep with a satisfied stomach. Her thoughts wandered to the girl, and to the irony of her gesture, as her mind became heavy. They were cruel enough to treat her like a stray cat, yet kind enough to share their bread so generously. Now that Rachael thought of it, the girl hadn't looked all that well groomed. She had looked poor and dirty, like Rachael. Maybe she hadn't been sent to her on a dare after all. Maybe she was nothing but another unwanted child, cast out by her father when he couldn't afford to feed them all. The youngest were often the first to go. She had seen it before.

Rachael couldn't care. There were too many kids like them for her to take pity on one.

A hot, searing pain burnt through Rachael's body. It was pain beyond anything she had ever felt before, but there was nothing around her to justify it.  She was used to blistered feet, frozen ankles and an empty stomach, but this was stronger than the aches she knew. Frantically she looked around, spreading out her hands in the hopes of finding something to hold on to, but there was nothing she could reach. She was engulfed by darkness, with no one around to save her, no one to comfort her.

A man stood over her. His unfeeling eyes bored into her core and terrified her beyond anything she had ever experienced. There was no getting away from him now. He finally had her where he had wanted her, and his promise of unimaginable suffering, of her begging him to make it stop, echoed in her numb mind.

It wasn't real. The amount of pain she was feeling couldn't have been real, but deep down inside her she knew that it was. How could a pain that hurt more than what she was already used to exist? Rachael's heart pounded with fear. At the same time she felt so empty that she wanted to vanish. All of her felt hollow. Her entire being had been filled with nothingness. How she was still here she didn't know, and it terrified her. It seemed to her like she should have faded away a long time ago.

Somewhere in the distance Rachael heard screams. She wanted to help, but she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. Her feet wouldn't obey, even as the screams were getting farther and farther away from her.

She flung her arms out in the dying hope of grabbing on to anything, anyone, but her hands found nothing. Even the man had disappeared, but as much as she tried to find comfort in that she couldn't.

Desperate to move her legs, her body eventually responded, followed by a sharp pain in her head. She had fallen, her legs having been tied together by someone for reasons she couldn't remember.

Next to her, something rustled. Feet. Chains.

Another person.

"Help me!" Her voice sounded distant and strange even to her, but it was the only thing of any power she had left. No answer came, only someone's raspy laughter.

Suddenly a door opened, its bright light blinding Rachael for a moment until her eyes adjusted and she saw who was standing in front of her.

Rachael gasped. A demon. A woman without eyes who hid her face behind a veil made of swirling mists. The loneliness in her expanded until it filled her completely. If the Mothers had come for her she had no bit of hope left. Everything was over. Everything she had fought for. Everything she and the Sparrows had fought to accomplish.

Cold hands closed around her tied-back hair and dragged her across the floor. Her cheeks suddenly hot and wet, Rachael knew that she was crying. Worse than that, she had failed.

She had failed everyone.

Rachael woke up with a silent scream that caught in her throat and with her body covered in cold sweat.

She knew this hadn't been a normal nightmare when relief didn't come to comfort her. It had been another one of those dreams, and this time she had been at the centre of it.

Or had she? She had never heard of those Sparrows before, and why would she be so desperate to help someone when she was a prisoner herself? What had she failed to do? She had never actually seen the person's face. It wasn't unusual for her to view a dream through the eyes of the person affected, but this was different. She knew that it had been
her
in the dream, as little sense as that made.

And that made things so much worse. She had felt helpless after having one of those dreams before, but she had always known that at least she wasn't the one who'd been dying or suffering. This time she was sure. Something deep inside her knew that it had been her this time.

Although, she couldn't make sense of most of it. Had she been in prison? And if so, why had she been locked up? Why had her feet been tied? There were no places like this in Blackrock, or at least she didn't know of any. There was a small prison, but it was barely big enough to hold the criminals they did have. Wherever this had been, it wasn't in Blackrock. And that made even less sense.

In the dream she had known why she was there and where she was, but it was fading, and the more she tried to recall details the more they left her memory. It may not have been a normal dream, but it faded all the same, leaving only the feeling of terror in its wake.

Whatever it was that had brought her into prison, to those demons, to that man, she had to avoid it no matter the cost.

Ahead of her, in the shadows between buildings, something moved. Rachael jumped to her feet, wiping her cold tears away with one hand while reaching out for something she could use as a weapon with the other. Blackrock was a dangerous place for homeless orphans on the best of days, but after the dream she wasn't willing to let her guard slide.

The movement stopped. For a second she wondered if her mind had overreacted and had simply panicked when it had just been a gust of wind, but the harder she stared into the shadows ahead of her the more she could make out a tiny frame. Someone was there, and they were watching her.

"Come out!" The small silhouette jumped at her command. Over the years Rachael had learned to avoid confrontation whenever possible, but the nightmare had left her in no mood for playing games. "I know you're there! What do you want from me? Come out now!" Her eyes briefly wandered to the frozen brick in her hands, and she silently hoped that she wouldn't have to use it. It was the only thing close enough she could get to, but if she had to defend herself with it she could easily kill someone, if it hit the right spot. She had never seriously injured anyone, but she had hurt them enough to make them leave her alone. If they left her no choice, she was prepared to not hold back.

With hesitant steps, the tiny frame emerged from the darkness before her. Rachael couldn't help staring when she realised it was the little girl from before. The other children had never sent anyone on the same dare more than once, but in her experience there was a first time for everything.

"Please don't hurt me. I've got a weapon, too, and I'll use it if I have to." Rachael had never heard a bigger lie. She had also never felt so bad for anyone. Just like before the girl's whole body was shaking and her voice had been reduced to a stutter, but Rachael couldn't tell whether that was from the cold or out of fear.

"What do you want?" For now the brick stayed where it was. Hunger could drive even the youngest children to desperate acts, causing them to do all sorts of things, but it was too early for her to let her guard down. Maybe the girl had come back for the bread, realizing that she needed it herself.

"I just want to talk. Please, don't hurt me."

Rachael found herself at a loss. No one had ever approached her like this before. Was it possible that the girl really just wanted to talk? Her gut told her not to let her come any closer, but what harm could she possibly be? Her instincts had never let her down before, but despite her warning, the girl didn't have a weapon. There was no knife on her that Rachael could see, and no other potential threat, either. It was just a small girl in rags, arms closed around herself, without even a doll to call her own.

"Fine. But if you try anything I'll defend myself.”

Her small body crept closer to Rachael, but stopped when Rachael raised her brick a little more.

As a sign of goodwill she put down her brick, hoping that she wasn't going to regret it.