by R. K. Gold
4
“Of course you went to his shop, is that where the money is for the day? Jomi’s pockets—or was it Marcel today? He used to be quite the gambler in his youth.” Ms. White paced the kitchen with a knife in her hand while Elias sat by the front door with his textbooks. Yael swore she could hear a snigger. It wouldn’t have been the first time he found amusement in Ms. White’s scolding. Her hand instinctively dropped to the scarred grooves on her forearm. “And why don’t you eat over there every night, if you’re so thankful for them?” She wiped her palms on a cloth and put her hand on her hip. She stood by the back door, looking out at her garden. Three eggs rested in a basket on the counter, and a bird chirped from the nest in the corner of the kitchen window over the sink.
“It’s nothing like that. They want me to go to Wydser with them," Yael replied. Even if the payment from the capital arrived, Yael knew Ms. White would be upset for running to the Lambs after a hard day. Maybe she thought it meant she was terrible at her job, or perhaps she worried what others would think if a child in her care preferred comfort elsewhere.
Ms. White rolled her eyes. “You know what’s going on along the northern border, right?” She put the knife away.
"Everyone's heard about the skirmishes, but we'll be within the city limits. Even the king wouldn't send his army there." King Benny was known to make some outrageous requests, even challenging his army to clear a path through the northern forest that no one had been able to safely cross for generations. Still, even he wouldn't mount an attack on Wydser.
“I wouldn’t challenge him with that request if I were you.” Ms. White looked over her shoulder, and Yael dropped her chin to her chest. She wrung her hands in front of her body and shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Her hook nose aimed straight at the ground. Her sunglasses rested in the bowl by the front door.
“Jomi told me he heard rumors about a girl in the city—a girl with the same eyes as me.”
Ms. White turned around. Her mouth opened, and her eyes widened. “Really? Another?”
“Did you ever hear about—”
"Please don't ask about your birth family again. I would've hoped by now, you know I told you everything." She turned her back to rinse her hands, but Yael felt it was just an excuse to end any line of questioning.
“It’s not that. I was just—do you think this girl could be my sister or something?"
“I haven’t the slightest clue. I’ve never heard of anyone with eyes like yours. I know the Mother has two colored eyes but not like yours.” She flicked water off her wet hands into the sink and rubbed what was left on her pants.
Everyone knew that. The sky shared the colors of its children. Brown for the earth and blue for the sea. "I just thought, I mean, ya know, since no one else has seen eyes like this before—maybe she—or at least she knows—"
“I don’t want you to go.” Ms. White’s face softened. “Come outside with me.”
To the garden, a place Yael knew quite well. After days of screwups, she would tend to the hens, take care of the few vegetables they had, and protect the spices, while Elias studied his books inside the house. Now, it was Ms. White who took the feed. Five hens marched around in random patterns. Their heads bobbed back and forth with each step. They all swarmed as she tossed the feed on the ground.
“You’re only twelve, Yael, so I can still tell you what to do. I have that right.” Ms. White circled the hens, and Yael walked in her wake. “But this has nothing to do with wanting to stop you from finding your family. What about Elias and myself? When you were in the system, you couldn’t find a safe home until the government brought you here. You’re still under my care, and we still need those monthly crowns.”
Yael clenched her jaw. It was always about the crowns with her. Every time she slid a bowl of soup across the table, she could hear the crowns jingling at the bottom. It was too dark to make out the details on Ms. White’s face, but the light from the descending star carved the outlines of every angle in the yard. It felt like walking on top of the negative space in an ink drawing.
“You know I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.” Yael moved her hands to her pockets. Her plain beige poncho was baggy, and the hand-me-down trousers from Elias were held up by one of his belts that Yael added extra loops to with Jomi’s knife.
“Yael, I don’t want you to go because I’m worried about you. I’m worried about Emerlia and that unstable king attacking again. These aren’t random skirmishes; anyone listening to the radio knows it’s more than just loyalists fighting us right now. Everything is being orchestrated by that man, and it’s only a matter of time before he attacks again.” She clipped leaves from plants growing out of the ground and stuffed them in a sack.
“I won’t be gone long, and I’ll be with Jomi and Marcel the whole time.”
“And why do you think Marcel’s wares are in such high demand? The market has been buzzing lately, no?”
“Cause the port is finally open to the rest of the world.” Every day at the market, Yael saw new visitors from the eastern and western continents exiting airships and spending money at the local shops.
“Cause the rest of the world knows a fight is coming, and those who take arms can carve a plot of their own wealth before the boundaries settle.” She patted the dirt and lifted the sack over her shoulder as she returned to her full height. “I understand why you want to go. I know you want to know more about your birth family, but we need you here. It’s a high tourist season despite the rumors in the north, and Elias is studying for his level 1s. I need you at the market.” If the capital wasn’t paying her, she had to make sure she was getting labor.
Yael’s insides knotted. Ms. White had been more than she could’ve asked for. She saw other children in the city, sharing beds in group homes and sometimes wondering where their next meal was coming from. If the capital’s late payments were hurting Ms. White, Yael could only imagine how hard those homes were taking it. She opened and closed her hands in her pockets. A single nickdem stuck to her sweat-soaked palm.
“I can’t just let you run north on the back of a rumor. There’s too much work to be done.” Ms. White wiped her nose with her forearm. The tie holding her long, brown hair back loosened, and strands poked out in all directions. Yael went to take the bag from Ms. White, but her guardian pulled it back.
“I can tell you’re still a little rattled after today. I’ll go to the market tomorrow.”
Yael waited until Ms. White was in the garden before sitting with her back to the plush chair next to the bookshelf. She didn't dare sit on Ms. White's personal seat. Elias sat by the round table at the opposite end of the room. He hunched over his books. "So, you're trying to go to the capital," he said without looking up. His dark-brown hair fell over his face.
“Excuse me?” Yael broke from her thoughts and pulled her fingers from her mouth.
“I heard you and mom talking.” He closed his book and pulled back his hair. The muscles in his scrawny arms had veins popping out of them.
“You were eavesdropping?”
“Of course. So, are you gonna go?”
“Ms. White said she won’t let me.”
Elias shrugged. “You think the rumor is real?”
She wanted to believe it, but wanting to make something real had never worked for her before. She still never met her birth parents. "Jomi wouldn't lie."
“Doesn’t mean it’s true; just means he truly heard it.” Elias crossed the room and put his book back on the shelf. “I think you should go.” He smelled musty from sitting in place all day and night. He poured so much of himself into his studies that Yael imagined him sweating ink.
She quirked an eyebrow. Elias thought she should go. What was his angle? Did he really want her to find her family? She remained silent as the wood in the fire crackled, the scent of smoke filled the room.
“You’re never going to know if the rumors are true or not if you stay here,” Elias said.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t, but we could use a day or two without you.” He smirked. Yael looked at her feet. “Honestly, I’m jealous that you got offered to go to Wydser.” He folded his arms.
“You’ll be there soon enough,” Yael replied. Elias studied at the community school but was only one year, and two level tests, away from applying to Wydser Law. Yael’s hand curled around the nickdem in her pocket.
"Not soon enough, though." He knocked on the side of the bookshelf and walked back to his papers on the other side of the room.
Yael lay on her back, legs dangling idly off the end of her bed. The ceiling slanted downward, and the window on the far side of the room let in the bright light of the Mother’s star. The branches from the tree outside her window were clearly visible against the evening backdrop, and their shadows bobbed across the room. It wasn’t much good for anything but sleep; the walls were barely far enough to fit her bed, but it was truly her space. One place she could call her own without the fear of Ms. White bursting through the door or Elias spinning out of the shadows with a textbook and an answer to a question she didn’t ask. A stack of unread books rested on her nightstand, including the black-covered Stories of the Mother.
She stared at the back of her hand. She couldn’t see the five dots but could imagine them so vividly, they popped through the darkness like stars of their own. She understood why Ms. White didn’t want to let her go. No one could deny the fighting along the northern border had increased. Skirmishes broke out daily, and President Wendell rarely matched the violence. In fact, more often than not, news out of the capital focused on old soldiers who fought in the war leading attacks along the border without the president’s permission.
“At least that’s what my brother said,” Toni added when he had shared the gossip with Yael a week prior. Brother to him most likely meant a Brother of the Red Sails, which only made his rumor more credible.
She then thought of Elias studying outside the kitchen. He was right, though being right was hardly foreign to him no matter what the topic was. It only twisted her insides more when she thought of one of the things Elias was so right about was the burden Yael put on Ms. White.
Her hand curled around the nickdem as a coin-sized pressure built against her temples. She held the coin to the light through the window and inspected both sides. On the front was the hooked-nose profile of Benedict Havensont II, the father of King Benny III, and "One True God" was scrawled on the back with a sun rising over twin mountains. The sign of the single ruler of the universe, according to Emerlia.
Yael had few memories of life during the war. She heard from Marcel that before the war broke out, Emerlia converted all the temples of the Three to prayer houses for their one true god. They said the forest where the Mother visited wasn't toxic to distance the gods from humans but rather to punish those who believed in false idols. But those south of the forest had their own beliefs; the forest only became toxic when Benedict the Wise raised the central continent's first great army to push back against Dracar.
Her pulse quickened. She saw the children stealing the spices all over again. She saw Jaja beating her in dice, and Toni laughing as he encouraged her to roll again. She thought of Ms. White explaining to the officers, "The fire was my fault," then scolded Yael the moment they left. Time and time again, she was nothing but a burden, and maybe Elias was right. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if she just disappeared.
But could the rumors be true, and if they were, could the girl be her family? She turned to the window and stared at the descending star. Even the Mother came to earth once every thousand years to be with her family. If the sky could touch the ground, why couldn’t Yael go to the capital? Just this once. Just to remove any doubt.
As the sun rose, Yael packed her things in one of the more massive spice sacks and headed out the door. She reached the front of the house and heard the floorboard creak. A tingle pinched her spine and vibrated up each vertebra like a tuning fork until her ears rang. She turned around and saw Ms. White standing in the back, watching her through the screen door. Neither said a word. The air between them tightened like a strained rope, and Yael felt the other end tugging even though Ms. White remained perfectly still. Her eyes dug into Yael’s forehead, and she felt the hot pressure leaking over her skull and coming out her eyes as a mixture of sweat and tears. The pain built up until Yael closed her eyes. She felt like she would be flattened by it. Then all at once, it stopped.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Ms. White’s back as the foster mom walked towards the garden. The tension connecting them snapped, and the freedom caught Yael so off guard, she nearly stumbled backward. She glanced one last time as she reached the front door and saw Ms. White feeding the hens.
When she arrived at Lamb’s shop, she saw Jaja loading the cart with goods while Jomi worked a hide in the back. Marcel looked over a book, recording numbers that Yael couldn’t make out. She saw the army insignia on the page next to a large number. Marcel removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Sweat glistened off his bald head.
“Yael!” Jomi called over to her. The sweat on his body sank into the crevices of his arms and shoulders, defining his muscles even further. “You came.”
“Is that still okay?” She adjusted her strap.
"Of course, it is. You’ve never been to Wydser, have you?” Marcel closed the book and put it in the top drawer of his desk. The back of the shop had a low ceiling that Marcel and Jomi were able to barely walk under without hunching. While the finished leather products were in the front on display, the various stages of the products became rawer and rawer as one reached the back.
“All done, Dad,” Jaja came in with his hands behind his back and his chest out. He looked at least three years older, maybe even Yael’s age when he stood straight and had his wild hair tied back.
“You heard the boss; get your things,” Marcel said to Jomi and winked at his youngest son.
Outside Eselport, the land rolled in hills, and the grass grew ankle and knee high in some places. A single trolley ran to the factories north of the city, while most people heading towards the port went on foot, carrying various goods. The closest train to the capital was three towns over, and the schedule was always changing. The war did a number on the railways that used to run across the empire. Emerlia would rather destroy them than have their enemy profit off them.
They only saw one car before they reached the next town, which was smaller than Eselport in every way. Even the people looked smaller, though Yael assumed it was all in her head. She had never been on a carriage for this long before.
While those in Eselport primarily wore light robes and ponchos depending on the season, many of those just north favored the capital's tight-fit clothing. Men wore leather jackets with metal buckles and curved shoulder pads. In contrast, many women in leather corsets and slitted dresses looked just as ready to pull a blade as if they were to waltz. One man worked on the flat roof of his home, fixing a red airship sail. A woman in brass goggles climbed to the top of the sail to stitch a hole in it. The round coal engine in their garage hiccupped, and puffs of smoke floated through the vents.
On the road, the pedestrians dressed differently. Those heading to Eselport wore similar ponchos to the locals, while others preferred sleeveless shirts and shorts. A young man pushing a cart of scrap metal tipped his straw hat to Yael.
By the third town, the robes of the south were completely gone. While the first dozen people wore various black and brown jackets, a handful of individuals were in the angular-fitting black suits of the eastern continent. The women on their arms wore vibrant summer dresses that floated over the air like wildflowers sprouting in open fields.
Yael pressed her sunglasses up her hooked nose when they slowed down, and crowds walked by. She flinched at the sound of the train’s horn. Soldiers in beige fatigues shared drinks in a courtyard, while others rode north down the same road they were heading in roofless vans that could fit a dozen men. They chuckled and saluted
Jaja when he puffed his chest out to salute them.
“Halfway there—and get out of there, you’ll scratch something,” Marcel said to Jaja when he dropped to his back and lay on a pile of their goods. Yael wasn’t sure how long they’d been traveling. Only that the sun had passed its peak, and the ocean was no longer in sight. All around, they saw farmland.
As the sunset to the west, the road widened. Crooked homes with semi-circle windows combed the landscape. Many were raised off the ground by stone foundations. A green cottage with high windows had copper and brass pipes twisting down its side. They burrowed under a boiling water pool while a wooden wheel beside the house pumped buckets into a white container.
“Nice filter,” Marcel said to his oldest son.
The home next door had square patches of stones lining the garden and a circular shrine around the tree beside its house. Between the rocks were wet dirt, shrubs, patches of high grass, and muddy water in the center. The water spread through channels of narrow streams all the way to the house. Red, yellow, and purple flowers lined the streams.
On the edge of town was a stone building. Music played inside the halls, and the gas lamps lining the door were a welcoming glow. They stopped at the inn for the night. “No way we’d be able to drop the shipment off at the barracks now. We’ll get in first thing in the morning and have the whole day,” Marcel said.
5
They shared one room and were packed before sunrise. As light broke the horizon, roads became more packed.
“There it is,” Jomi said, and Yael looked ahead. A white stone wall rose in the distance—the height of two oaks on each other's shoulders.
Crowds merged at the gate. As they moved closer, Yael saw soldiers stopping each vehicle that entered the city and searched their belongings with dogs. Another set of soldiers addressed those trying to enter on foot.