A Light From the Ashes

by Rachel Anne Cox

  Sam was at his shoulder. They’d come this far in the story; Zacharias knew he had to finish it. But he’d never said these words before. Never told the horrors of what had happened in those early days of the war, and he felt as if he were tearing the flesh from around his heart.

  “Z? You okay?”

  “That’s a strange word . . . okay. It can cover a multitude of feelings and states of being. Am I alive? Yes. Am I functioning? Mostly. Am I in pain? Absolutely.”

  “You don’t have to finish. I shouldn’t have asked . . .”

  “No, I do. I have to say it out loud. It’s what I used to tell my patients in that other life. You can’t keep things bottled up inside you. They always find a way out. But it always hurts—the letting out.”

  “You can say anything to me.”

  Zacharias smiled. “I know I can, son.” One deep breath and maybe he could get the words out. “On the day we had planned to leave the cabin to join some other members of the Watch, I came home to get Jesse and the kids. But they were gone. I waited for a little while, thinking they’d be back. Jesse knew how to take care of herself. I wasn’t scared at first. But hours went by. I went out back to start looking for them down by the river. The river . . .” More deep breaths. He was gulping in air now, thick air. Humid air. Liquid air. He felt like he was drowning.

  “Slow. Slow breaths, Z.”

  In a daze, he finished his story, seeing it play out before his eyes in the swirling, building clouds that loomed over the mountains.

  “The river ran red that day with the blood of American citizens gunned down by the government soldiers. I never found their bodies—my Jesse and our kids. Just their clothes covered in blood. I buried those.”

  “My God.”

  “Yes, we call on God in times like that. But we seldom find him in the violent world of our own making.”

  “Violence. Killing. So much bloodshed, Z. We’ve both seen it and been a part of it. It’s why I’m staying out of it now.”

  “That’s not always the answer either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If Jesse and I had stayed out of it, that wouldn’t guarantee she or my children would still be alive. Then I’d have the added burden of knowing we didn’t take a stand for what we believed in. Knowing that we had helped the other side a little by our acquiescence.”

  “Just because I don’t believe in the war doesn’t mean I sympathize with the Corsairs or the Triumvirate.”

  “Oh, I know that, son. I know you’ve tried to stay out of it. You thought you could protect the people you love by not fighting, not killing. But sometimes the fight finds you, whether you want it or not. That’s what happened in the Second Revolution with your parents, and it’s what’s happening now. This was always meant to be your fight.”

  The two men stood in silence even as the first raindrops started to fall and darken their clothes. After a few minutes, Zacharias spoke again. “You know what haunts me the most to this day? Why she was at the river in the first place. It looked like she’d gone down there with a gallon jug for water. But there was water in the tank by the cabin. So why did she go to the river?”

  “Z, what if this woman Sophie found . . .”

  “No, no son. I can’t allow myself to hope or even think about it.”

  “But what if . . .”

  “No! I mean it, Sam. I don’t want to talk about this again. I can’t.”

  Zacharias walked slowly back up to the house. He looked older than he had when he’d started speaking. The sheets of rain enveloped him in their gray release. Sam couldn’t imagine what their conversation had taken out of him.

  The rain through the trees soaked Sam’s hair and ran down the back of his neck, cooling him. He didn’t attempt to cover himself but stood looking after Zacharias long after he had entered the house. An accent, a song, a feeling. Sam hadn’t told Zacharias about some of these things, especially the nagging feeling in his gut that wouldn’t let him let go of the belief that this woman was Jesse. There would be time for that later. He would honor Z’s request and wouldn’t speak of it again. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to find her.

  * * * * *

  Lush and rejuvenated by the rain, the flowers, wild oats, and grass by the river dipped and swayed under the weight of nourishment. In this primeval temple with walls and ceiling of mottled green and filtered light, Sophie stood by, watching the river run full to bring more life to other parts of the land. She hadn’t been prepared for the storm, and her hanging clothes on the line had fallen heavy with water to the ground below. She would have to wash them again. The wet grass stuck to the basket and her legs. Everything stuck and mashed together in what the rain had left behind.

  She saw Ethan running toward her, Sam struggling to keep up. The swish and squish of the grass and mud beneath them made her smile.

  “Welcome back!” she called.

  Ethan wrapped his arms around her waist, then picked up the basket to begin helping her with the laundry. While the boy’s back was turned, Sam stole a kiss. He didn’t know why he felt the need to sneak.

  “There’s going to be a town meeting in a couple of days. Ethan and I will have to go back to Jesse’s Hollow. But we’ll only be gone the day.”

  “Do we know what it’s about?”

  “No idea. As usual.”

  “How are the other children with Zacharias?”

  “They’re settling in. Pretty quiet for little ones. It may take them some time to adjust to not being on their own. I kept pretty much to myself for a while after Z adopted us. But it’s best for them.”

  “Of course.” Sophie looked at Ethan, wishing again he could be truly hers.

  “What are you thinking about, my Sophie?” Sam tucked a curl of hair behind her ear.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she spoke softly. “Walk with me for a minute.”

  She called to Ethan, telling him she’d return soon to help him.

  “Sam, Ethan is your son now. By law, he can’t be taken from you.”

  “And when did you start caring about the law?” Sam tried to smile at her.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. What is it that worries you?”

  “I hesitate to say. This is all so new, and with everything that is happening around us, how could I hope for . . . or ask for . . .”

  “Sophie, just say it.”

  “I love Ethan. And I love you. But what binds us? What is to say that I couldn’t lose you both? If the Corsairs found out you were living here instead of in Jesse’s Hollow as they believe, they could take you away from me.”

  “I see. Well, I could say the law is not always a protection, especially when it changes as often as it does. But I know that wouldn’t comfort you.”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to make me say it again,” she laughed with embarrassment. “I love you, you silly man. I’ve never said that to a man before.”

  Sam took her face in his hands. “And I love you. I should have said it. But I guess I thought some things go without saying. Yes, Sophie, I love you.”

  “So what’s the answer, Sam?”

  He looked down at his mother’s golden wedding band on his little finger, dwarfed by the size of his hand. How could something so small carry so much meaning? A ring. A word. A law. What bound them, she wanted to know.

  “You and I both know nothing is certain. There’s not a lot we can count on in this world. The only thing I’m sure of is how I feel about you. The answer is that the government can say what they want. But if you want me, I am with you and for you from now until the end of my life. To me, that means we’re married. And if you promise the same, what other promise or loyalty could mean more than that to me?” He took the ring off his finger and placed it on hers. Sam looked at the ring he had worn for so long it had become a part of him, and he marveled at how easy it was to give that part of himself to Sophie.
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  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  Sophie looked at the ring. She looked at the dragonflies skipping over the river. She looked anywhere but at Sam.

  “Listen, I know the risks of not applying to the government for a marriage license,” he continued. “But after what happened the last time, the risk of filling out the application actually frightens me more. They sent me away for seven years, Sophie. I don’t think I could go through that again. Not with you.”

  Hot tears stung her eyes and the back of her throat. She knew he was right, and she had known what he would say before he said it.

  “So, will you?” he smiled.

  “Will I . . . will I what?”

  “Promise me.”

  “Of course I will.” She hadn’t looked up at him yet. Her tears dripped onto her hand and made the ring shine brighter. “What if this—us here—what if it doesn’t last? What if this is the only time we have?” She placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating as quickly and intensely as her own.

  “All we ever have is the light we’re living in here in the moment. We can’t bask in yesterday’s sunrise, though we may remember it. And we can’t be guaranteed the sun will rise tomorrow. So we enjoy and are grateful for the light we have today.”

  “That’s fine, but isn’t it our responsibility to try to ensure light for tomorrow, not just for ourselves, but for those who come after us?”

  “Sophie, look at me.” He gently lifted her chin. “It’s about Ethan, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t need to answer. He could see the fear in her eyes, see the remembrance of Bridget. She had let Ethan into her home and her heart, and now she was terrified of losing another child.

  “Ethan is yours just as much as I am. He’s our son. And as long as I’m breathing, I won’t let anyone or anything separate us. I know that won’t be enough forever. But who knows how things are going to change in the future? What new laws or restrictions they’re going to come up with? I don’t want to do anything to draw their attention to us. Isn’t it better to keep our family here between us and not let the government get their hands on it?”

  “Of course it is.” Sophie folded herself into Sam’s arms, fitting her head just under his chin, listening to his heart beating. She held on as tightly as she could, and she felt his arms tighten as well. She wished their arms were strong enough to keep them together always.

  Then just as quickly, she stepped away. “Go on, now, you. The garden has to be seen to. I think the wind from the storm may have knocked over some of the tomato plants. And I need to help Ethan take care of the laundry.”

  “Wow, that sounds like quite the honeymoon—tomatoes and laundry!” Sam laughed.

  “I’ll show you a honeymoon later on,” she grinned. “But for now, there’s work to be done.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Sam walked away whistling the tune Sophie had heard the old woman sing, and it both comforted and frightened her.

  Reaching into the pocket of her tunic, Sophie pulled out the message she’d written to Foxglove earlier in the day. She hadn’t been sure she’d be able to get the message to her through the storm but was grateful for the break in the weather.

  She had used quotes from Sam’s own book Great Expectations to relay the message but hadn’t wanted to pull the page from the book, and so copied it in her own hand.

  Foxglove,

  We came to Miss Havisham’s house, which was of old brick, and dismal, and had a great many iron bars to it. Some of the windows had been walled up; of those that remained, all the lower were rustily barred. There was a courtyard in front, and that was barred . . . always creep in-shore like some uncomfortable amphibious creature, even when the tide would have sent him fast upon his way; and . . . coming after us in the dark or by the back-water, when our own two boats were breaking the sunset . . .

  Aishe

  She hoped Foxglove would be able to discern her meaning but wouldn’t know unless she showed up on her beach at sunset.

  “What’cha got there?” Ethan asked curiously.

  “A message for my captain.”

  “Let me take it, Sophie.”

  She heard an excitement in his voice. He wanted to be part of things, but it was too dangerous. Her arms ached to hold onto him. “I don’t know, Ethan.”

  “I can do it. I know how.”

  “What does Sam say about you working with the Watch?”

  “He doesn’t like it, but he said I’m old enough to make my own decisions about it.”

  She ran her hand through his hair. He wanted to be an adult, but there was still so much of the child left in him. His idealism, wanting to join in, wanting to feel important—didn’t they all point to his youth? How could she send him off to a job that would endanger him?

  “He might be right, sweetie.”

  Ethan sat down on a large rock near the river. “You know, sometimes I think there’s no point to anything. There just seems to be so much darkness, and all I have is a little match to light it up. There’s no way that my little match could make a difference. You know what I mean?”

  “Like on a cloudy night when you can’t see the stars, and everything looks blacker than normal. But that doesn’t mean the stars aren’t still there. The stars are always there, always sending their light to us, no matter what. No matter what we’re able to see of them, no matter if we even acknowledge their existence.”

  “So you mean that we should continue to do good, even in our little ways, even in the dark?”

  “It’s what we do. It’s who we are, even on a cloudy night.”

  “Can I tell you something, Sophie?”

  “Anything.”

  Ethan pulled a string out of his pocket, playing with it, twisting it around his fingers as he spoke. “Awhile back, Sam and I saw a flogging in the town square. Everyone just stood by and didn’t do anything. I knew the citizens outnumbered the soldiers, but we didn’t do anything because we didn’t have any weapons.”

  “Well, that’s just the point, honey, you don’t . . .”

  “I’m not finished.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That wasn’t the first flogging I ever saw, though. When I was little. Just before my parents were taken, the soldiers beat them like that. But on that day too, I didn’t do anything. I was too little.”

  “Oh, sweetie . . .”

  “But I promised myself that when I was older and bigger, I would do something to stop them. And I think that’s what you mean too—about shining on a cloudy night. This is something I can do, Sophie. It’s something you can let me do.”

  “You’re right, Ethan. I know you are. How can I ask you to sit by and do nothing when . . .”

  She knelt in the wet grass by the water, running her fingers through its quickening current. This is what holding onto a child is like—trying to hold water in your hands.

  “Alright. You can take the message.”

  He jumped up from the rock, ready to go.

  “But I want you to use the chain of messengers. Don’t go right to Foxglove, even if you know where she is. That’s for everyone’s safety. Understood?”

  “Understood.” He saluted.

  “And you and the other little messengers. I want y’all to be careful. Stay near the river and don’t go anywhere the Corsairs would question. Then come right back here when you’ve delivered the message, alright?”

  “Absolutely. Thank you, Sophie. I won’t let you down.” He ran off faster than she’d seen him go in a while.

  Using children to fight against tyranny. Well, maybe their innocence was the perfect weapon. But children—

  * * * * *

  “Run! Hide! He’ll catch you!” the little girl Daisy shrieked. “There’s a place over there! Run!”

  Anyone listening would have thought it was a children’s game. Daisy loved to play games and loved teaching the games she knew to her friends.

  But this wasn’t a game. A Corsai
r on horseback had surprised her and Ethan in the woods and had seen them pass the note between them. Running through thickly crowded trees, they’d managed to slow him down. He had to get off his horse to be able to fit between the trees as they went deeper and deeper into the forest. Near the Border, a tree had been blown over in a storm months, maybe years, before. Who could say? The felled tree was home to a colony of gray lichen on its rotting trunk. Hiding in the dank depths of what had once been its life-giving roots, the children crouched in the crater underneath, which was just big enough to hold them.

  Ethan was breathing heavily. Maybe Sophie and Sam had been right. His first message delivery, and he was almost caught. His embarrassment stung more than his fear.

  “Shhh,” Daisy whispered. “You’re breathing too loud.”

  The Corsair’s boots crunched on the dead branches that littered the ground. Even after the rain, their brittle sounds helped to let Daisy and Ethan know how close their foe was.

  “Come on out, kids.” His words sounded more like an entreaty than a command. “You won’t be in trouble. I just need to see the note.”

  Daisy shook her head at Ethan, letting him know a Corsair’s word was not to be trusted.

  “You know, I used to be the best at hide and seek. I’m going to find you eventually.”

  She shook her head again.

  The way they heard the Corsair walking was not in a straight path, but meandering, roaming all over the woods. He hadn’t seen where they’d gone.

  Ethan took a deep breath. It was wet and stank inside the old tree trunk. It smelled like mildew and wet earth, and he was pretty sure he felt something crawling over his hand. His nose twitched. He had to sneeze. Daisy saw the look in his eyes and knew she had to think fast. She covered his mouth with her hand and tossed a large stick as far away as she could to cover the sound. If there was one thing Gemma had taught her, it was misdirection.

  It worked. The Corsair heard the stick and started running away from them. He was far enough away now that they could risk running in the opposite direction.