Rise of the Sparrows (Relics of Ar'Zac #1) (3 page)

"Come here," Rachael said, motioning for the girl to come closer. She knew how to react when someone was making fun of her, when someone was avoiding her, or when someone tried to rob her or worse, but never once had she had to deal with something like this—with a girl who looked as frightened as this one did. Accepting that people were scared of her had become an inevitable part of her life, and it had never bothered her. Not until now.

The girl inched closer, not taking her eyes off the brick once. When she realised that Rachael was going to leave it on the ground she sped up until she stood right next to Rachael.

"Have a seat." There wasn't much to sit on besides her old blanket, but Rachael feared that the girl might collapse if she continued to stand up for much longer.

The girl did as told but remained silent, chewing on her own lips to keep herself busy.

"Are you here on another dare?" Rachael asked. The girl shook her head, not taking her eyes off her shuffling feet. "Then what are you doing here?" Rachael knew it was best to remain cautious and scolded herself for letting a stranger come this close to her. This was a first.

People never came right up to her or even sat down with her, not even on a dare. The only people who tried it were those who came to rape her, and she found it hard to believe that this girl had followed her for that.

"I-" Her voice was as tiny and as shaking as her thin body.

"What's your name?

"Cephy."

"How old are you, Cephy?" As uncomfortable as Rachael was with having someone sit so close to her, on her blanket, she was curious. Cephy was either very stupid or very brave, and she wanted to know which one it was.

"Twelve." The girl studied the frozen ground, looking more out of her comfort zone than Rachael had realised. Neither of them was used to this.

"How long have you been homeless?"

Cephy was five years younger than her, and didn't carry herself with the special kind of confidence only orphans who had survived for a long time could muster. This was all new to her, and Rachael wanted to know more.

"Three weeks, I think.”

Rachael watched Cephy with curiosity. It was hard when you first became homeless. Not knowing where to sleep or where to get your next meal from was difficult at any time of year, but to become homeless at the beginning of winter must have been even worse. Rachael had been homeless for so long she couldn't quite remember what time of year it had been, only that she had been scared and had cried herself to sleep, praying for help, until she had accepted that no one listened to her prayers and that she would have to fend for herself. She had been younger than Cephy, much younger, but she had coped. Life was difficult and a struggle, but she had made it work. She couldn't go easy on Cephy, or she would never learn how to take care of herself.

"What do you want
from me?"

"I-" Cephy began crying quietly to herself. It was obvious that she was feeling as lost as anyone could feel, but Rachael didn't know what to say. She had never had to offer her sympathy before. What if her understanding would get this girl killed?

"There are plenty of homeless kids here,” Rachael said. “Can't you go live with them?" There were groups of homeless children and teenagers all over Blackrock. They stuck together for safety and they always took in new kids. They knew how to cope with something like this, unlike her.

Her voice was so tiny Rachael had to strain her ears to hear her. "I don't want to die." The admission made something inside Rachael ache worse than anything she had ever felt. "You know where to find food. You know how to defend yourself. I was hoping if I watched you, I could learn.

"I came to bring you this." From under her rags Cephy brought forth a small loaf of bread. It didn't seem to be warm any more, but it still looked good. "
You were twitching in your sleep a lot, and you were crying. I was scared, and thought about getting help, but then you woke up and you looked scared, too."

All Rachael could do was stare at Cephy. No one had ever wanted to help her before. She would never have found anyone willing to help her, but that wasn't the point. Cephy had wanted to help her. That had to count for something.

People in Blackrock didn't help strangers—at least, not that she knew off. Maybe Cephy was too young to understand that?

"I was having a bad dream.” Cephy nodded as if she understood. Rachael was glad that she didn't. "You came
to bring me bread?" She hoped to lighten the mood a little. By the faint blush on Cephy's cheeks she could tell that it had worked.

"Hmh. And I came to tell you something."

"Oh? And what could that be?" Rachael felt herself getting more and more comfortable talking to the girl. The bad feeling in her gut was still there, but this was the longest she had talked to someone in years. She didn't want it to end just yet, and she had to give the girl credit for wanting to help.

"I'm not scared of you."

“That's not very convincing when you're shaking. You can't even look at me.” Now that Rachael looked at Cephy she noticed that the girl wasn't shaking as much as she had been. Still, Cephy was lying. People were naturally scared of her, and they had made it clear to her that there would be no exceptions. It was in their nature to fear what they believed to be evil. A little girl would be no different. Cephy hadn't always been homeless, her parents would have taught her.

"I'm cold, is all. I know how the mean kids make you feel. And the grown ups.”

Rachael gave her a sour smile. "I doubt you know-"

"They do the same to me." She knew Cephy meant well, but the girl didn't understand. How could she?

"It's not the same.”

Cephy's eyes had glazed over with the shadow of a painful memory. "They called me a monster. They said I should come to you so we can both go to the Dark Mists together."

Rachael froze where she sat. Even if that were true, those were horrible things to say to a child.

"Why would they say that?"

"My father threw me into the street when I set my bed on fire." Cephy was staring at the ground again, her hands balled into fists and her forehead creased.

"But accidents happen. What was he doing leaving matches lying around?"

Cephy began to shake harder again, and Rachael understood. She hadn't shaken with fear or from the cold before. Cephy had been crying.

"I didn't mean to! Father was shouting, and it scared me, and suddenly everyone was screaming and Father picked me up and pushed me out into the street! Mummy told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen!" Cephy's glistening eyes and red cheeks told Rachael to be quiet despite all the questions she desperately wanted to ask. "It wasn't their fault. See?" Cephy held out her hand, opened it to the pile of branches Rachael had been struggling to light since it had started snowing, and set it on fire. Before she could think better of herself, Rachael had jumped up and taken a few steps back.

The villagers were scared of her? All
she
did was dream!

"I hoped you'd understand." Cephy hugged herself, and cried. Rachael had never seen such a pitiful creature, but the past few days had been a good time for firsts.

Rachael sat back down next to her and pulled the girl into her arms. She held her so tightly that Cephy couldn't have gotten away if she'd wanted to.

"I do understand. I think. But how did you do that?”

"I don't know! I just do!"

All Rachael could think of was to hold Cephy until her crying stopped.

"I want to stay with you. Can I? Please? You're the only one who understands!"

Rachael was about to nod and say
yes
, when a sharp pain exploded inside her body. The bad feeling in her gut was much worse than it had been before, but its message was clear. For reasons she couldn't see, Cephy was a danger to her. For reasons she didn't understand, Cephy had something to do with that dream.

As much as she wanted to help the girl, she couldn't. She hated the idea of Cephy feeling as lonely and unwanted as she had all her life, but she feared that place from her dream even more.

"No."

"Why?" Cephy's voice was as quiet as the falling snow around them. "I thought you understood."

"I do. But I- I just-" Rachael sighed, hoping her excuse would be good enough. "I already can't find enough food for myself. I have no proper shelter, just this blanket. You'll be better off without me. Find one of the groups, they'll look after you." Rachael sought her eye contact to show her that she meant it, and found it just in time to see her eyes glaze over with the same acceptance she had felt herself so often. Cephy's last hope shattered somewhere inside of her. Rachael was the reason that hope was gone.

"I see." Cephy got up, and began to walk away without turning around again. "Keep the bread. I'll get a new one tomorrow." Rachael wanted to say something to stop her, but every time she opened her mouth her stomach twisted itself in painful knots, making it difficult for her to breath normally.

Only when Cephy was out of sight did the pain leave her body, forcing Rachael to breathe rapidly in an attempt to fill her lungs with air again.

She hated herself for having abandoned Cephy like that. She'd had a chance to spare someone the same loneliness she had suffered for so long, and she had refused it. It wasn't right, but what other options did she have? She had never experienced a reaction like that to anyone before.

Rachael sat back down, staring at the alley Cephy had disappeared into and wishing she would come back. The fire Cephy had created was still burning strong, despite the snow which was getting heavier by the minute.

Knowing it wouldn't be enough to keep the chill from her bones she wrapped herself in her blanket, and tried to push Cephy out of her mind.

A week went by without any sign of Cephy.
It seemed she knew how to become one with the shadows, and Rachael was grateful for it. If Cephy knew how to hide and move unnoticed, she had a better shot at staying alive.

She couldn't figure out why her body had reacted the way it did to the little girl. What danger could she really pose to her? They were both underfed, but Rachael was taller and was experienced at surviving, whereas Cephy reminded her of a helpless animal.

The dream, at least, had not come back. Neither had that horrible feeling. Whatever it had been, Rachael wondered if it had been a one-off warning not to trust Cephy. Maybe it had nothing to do with the girl at all and Rachael was wrong, but there was also a chance that it hadn't happened again because Cephy wasn't near her.

Rachael had been wandering the streets as she always did, keeping an eye out for a little silhouette hiding in the shadows, but there hadn't been any sign of Cephy. All the other orphans and children were where they always were, but Cephy was nowhere to be seen. Wherever Cephy was hiding, it was working.

And even though she sometimes caught herself wishing she could talk to her again, she was grateful that she didn't see her. It made staying away from her so much easier.

A guilty feeling settled in her stomach. Despite the pain Rachael wasn't convinced that she really wanted to stay away from the girl. She was good at being alone, and had thought she had accepted that nothing would change. Talking to Cephy had made her long for a friend again for the first time since she was a child. Rachael had worried that Cephy wouldn't be all right in this town on her own, but the girl's ability to hide had proven her wrong. If it wasn't for the small presents she received every day, Rachael would have wondered if Cephy was dead.

Every time Rachael came back from her walk through the town, she found half a loaf of bread waiting for her. Sometimes it was still warm, and due to the heavy snowfall most days there were never any footprints in the snow. She couldn't tell where Cephy had gone, but Rachael knew that it was her. No one else had ever been so generous to her.

Rachael had tried to ignore it at first. She felt bad for eating the bread after she had refused Cephy's wish to stay with her, but after a few days of not finding any food at all the hunger had convinced her otherwise. She was in no position to waste food, whether she felt guilty eating it or not. Homeless orphans like her didn't get to be picky.

And then, one day, she heard it. It was getting dark outside, the sun was casting the town in a pretty orange light, and everyone was on their way home, when a faint whimpering reached Rachael.

Usually she left crying children alone since there was nothing she could do for them, but this time her feet urged her onwards. She eventually found Cephy in a small alley, curled up on the floor and quietly sobbing into a small doll Rachael hadn't noticed on her before.

Rachael wanted to turn around, remembering the clear warning her body had given her before, but she didn't feel anything but pity this time. Hesitating, she approached the small girl, unsure of what to say when she finally  reached her.

“Cephy?” Rachael wanted to reach out and hold her, but she couldn't allow herself to get too attached. Most young orphans didn't survive their first winter. If she got close to her now it would only make the inevitable harder later.

But Cephy didn't even seem to hear her. The sound of her voice hadn't had any effect on the girl, so Rachael moved closer.

If Cephy still didn't react then she would go away and leave her to it.

“Cephy?” The girl turned away from her, hugging the doll to her chest as if her life depended on it. “Can you hear me?” Cephy was shaking. Whether it was because of the cold or something else, she couldn't tell.

Rachael began to turn around since Cephy didn't answer, when she noticed something. A weak ray of light lit up her face just enough for Rachael to see what she had missed before.

Cephy was bleeding. And even though Rachael couldn't see any obvious injuries, she could see bruises all over the small body.