A Light From the Ashes

by Rachel Anne Cox

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, then, be on your way. We’ve spoken too long already.” Mark looked around in a 360 loop again.

  “One thing, Colonel. Why are you doing this?”

  “You’re the second person to ask me that. I suppose I should have an answer. But to fully understand my reasons, you’d have to know more of my life than I have time to tell you. You would have to understand all of the things I’ve experienced, all the people I’ve encountered. But for now, let it be enough for me to say I loved someone once who was lost to the Corsairs. It made me realize I’d been on the wrong side all along and the odds had always been stacked against the survival of the citizens. I’m just trying to even the playing field, I guess.”

  “Very well.”

  “Go now. And move quickly.”

  For the first time in his life, Sam willingly held out his hand to a Corsair. Mark took it, giving it a hearty shake.

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  * * * * *

  “You’re up early, my girl.” Mrs. O’Dell’s voice from the back doorway startled Sophie. She’d been standing at the sink, staring out the window, but not seeing the sun rise across the beach.

  “I haven’t really slept. Can I make you some coffee? What are you doing here so early?”

  “I saw your lantern in the window. Thought there might be sickness in the house.”

  “No sickness. Just insomnia.”

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, dearie, you don’t look all that well.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  “What’s the matter, then?”

  “I don’t even know. I guess I just feel like the ground’s been ripped out from under me.”

  “Something the matter with you and that young man? Sure, we all have little spats from time to time. It’ll pass.”

  Sophie set the coffee down in front of Mrs. O’Dell, who had made herself comfortable at the kitchen table.

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Won’t you be joining me?”

  “No, I don’t have much of an appetite for anything lately.”

  “You are looking a little green around the gills. And don’t tell me it’s nothin’. I know what I’m seein’.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “No appetite. Fightin’ with yer husband. And the worry’s written all over your face. You’ll be havin’ a babe, sure as the sun’s risin’.”

  “What? No, that can’t be it . . .”

  “Come on, now. You’ve had a child before. Think back. You missed your monthly, didn’t ya?”

  Sophie gripped the back of Mrs. O’Dell’s chair, trying desperately to force the idea out of her mind. But she knew the old lady was right. Knew it as soon as she’d said it, though she had tried to force herself not to believe it. She was pregnant. Illegally. The quick-changing emotions played like light and shadows across her face. Joy and sorrow. Excitement and fear. Her legs would no longer support her, so she sat at the table across from Mrs. O’Dell.

  “Don’t worry, child. I’ll be here with you.”

  “But you don’t understand. I had no permit to have this baby. They’re going to take her away.”

  “We don’t know that. A lot’s changin’ these days.”

  “Yes, it’s all getting worse.”

  “Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. Like a fever, burning the disease out.”

  “If you survive the fever.”

  “Sure enough. Sure enough.”

  “Oh, Mrs. O’Dell, what am I going to do?”

  “My granny used to say, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”

  “And what does that even mean?”

  “No need to borrow trouble because today’s got plenty, I’m thinkin’. All we can do is go one step at a time into the darkness, and maybe the light will follow.”

  Taking the old woman’s wrinkled hands in her trembling ones, Sophie was grateful for the friendship she had found there. Her tears splashed on the weathered wood of the table.

  * * * * *

  Sophie didn’t want to go to the barn. She knew the smells would send her stomach pitching. But she also knew that was where she would find Ethan. He adored Pip, and she had often found him there stroking the horse’s mane or giving him carrots from the garden. When she walked into the dimness of the barn, she tried to hold her breath. She rubbed her arm gingerly, still sore from where she’d been shot, and the bruises on her neck more sore now than they had been the day before. In the dust lit from the open window, she saw Ethan with his nose pressed against Pip’s. Both were very still. If Ethan hadn’t been standing on his toes, she would have thought they were both sleeping like that.

  “I knew I’d find you here,” she spoke quietly.

  “You know a lot of things.”

  “And there are a lot of things I don’t know, too.”

  “Have you come to give me news about Toby?” Ethan turned to face her, standing with his shoulders squared, jaw clenched, ready to receive a blow.

  “No, sweetie. We still don’t know where the Corsairs have taken him.”

  “No one is safe, are we? They can just take anyone.”

  “That’s partly true.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “That we have each other. That we can try to be happy as long as that’s true.” Stepping forward, Sophie ran her fingers through the boy’s thick hair, lighter these days than when he had arrived. “You know, eventually, everything seems like a dream. The pain passes. Even the joy passes. You look back and all you have are memories. Memories that feel like dreams, no more tangible than the mist in the night.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  She turned and busied her hands, closing Pip’s feed bag. “Oh, I guess I could lie and make something up, but I’m not sure that would comfort you.”

  “So, where is he?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Has he left us?”

  “No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “How do you know?”

  She looked in Ethan’s eyes, which mirrored her own fear. “Because I know him.”

  “What if he’s been taken by the Corsairs too?”

  “Then we’ll find him. That’s what family does. We look out for each other. I thought I had lost my sister. But she found me at the Border, and we’re going to try to get her across. So I think anything is possible.”

  “I think anything bad is possible. The good things, maybe not.”

  “You’re too young to be this cynical.”

  “What’s cynical?”

  “Believing only bad things will happen.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “Whatever causes night in our souls may leave stars. What about Sam, us, this farm?”

  “What about them?”

  “Those are some of the good things that have happened to you, aren’t they?”

  “What’s the use of finding good things if they can always be taken away?”

  “That doesn’t diminish their value. Maybe it even increases it. If we knew that nothing could ever be taken away from us, would we treasure them in the same way?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I look forward to every single day I have with you because I know—maybe better than anyone—that nothing is guaranteed. And I know my time with you makes up some of my happiest memories and dreams.”

  “Me too.”

  “Come on, now. Pip has had his breakfast. It’s time for you to have yours. Alright?” Sophie held her hand out to the boy. But instead of taking it, he wrapped his arm around her waist. They walked toward the house, arms linked behind their backs.

  Sophie heard horses neighing and stomping their feet. At least a dozen. As she and Ethan got closer to the house, she saw the squad of Corsairs
with a wagon among them. They had come for something. Perhaps it was to look for more weapons as they’d said in the town meeting. They would find nothing in the house. Ethan held her waist more tightly. She wouldn’t show him her fear. She had meant what she said to him: They had each other.

  The captain of the group approached her, pulling an official-looking document from his pouch. “By order of General Drape and the Triumvirate, all children are to be taken to a new job training academy. Room and board will be provided. Your government takes the care of your children very seriously.” The captain folded his paper crisply.

  Leaning down, Sophie whispered into Ethan’s ear, “The beach. Run!” Without waiting even an instant, he was whipping through the field toward the beach. “Run!” she called hoarsely after him.

  “After him!” the captain ordered the mounted soldiers to follow. “You’re not making this any easier, citizen. The boy will be caught and taken.”

  Two of the soldiers, now dismounted, dragged Ethan between them, kicking and screaming. Joining in the fray, Sophie punched one of them square in the jaw before being pulled away by his comrades.

  “Please don’t take our son. Please don’t take him. He’s done nothing wrong!”

  “I should arrest you for striking one of my men,” the captain barked.

  Soldiers flanking Sophie on either side held her before their captain.

  “Please, Captain. Please. When can I see him again?”

  “That is no longer your concern. He is now the responsibility of the Triumvirate.”

  Sophie dropped to her knees before the captain, grasping his boots now shiny with her tears. “Please just let me say goodbye. I have to say goodbye.”

  The captain hesitated, looking first to his soldiers, then to the woman at his feet. “Very well.” He nodded toward a sergeant to bring the boy forward.

  Holding Ethan close to her, she tried to slow her breathing so she could speak. She took his face in her hands and looked into his tear-filled eyes.

  “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you,” he cried.

  “I know. I know. Here, I want you to have this.” She took the butterfly necklace from her own neck and placed it carefully in his hand. “Listen to me carefully, my sweet boy. You are our son. Mine and Sam’s. You are part of this family. I want you to know you are not a Lost Boy anymore. You’ll never be lost again. Do you hear me? We will come for you. You will always be our boy.” She clutched him again to her chest, crying into his neck, not knowing if the shaking she felt in her bones was hers or his.

  In moments, the soldiers had pulled him away, placing him roughly in the wagon, which she only now saw held three other crying children.

  “Sophie!” he called from the wagon as it drove quickly away, the soldiers riding behind in a four-by-four formation.

  Sophie lay on the ground in the dust left behind, her arms wrapped around her head.

  * * * * *

  The house was empty, and it sent Sam into a panic. Colonel Goodson’s words swam in his ears. The Corsairs had been to the farm already that morning, he could tell by the ground outside. But where was Sophie? He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t let Ethan go without a fight. Had she gotten herself arrested? Or worse? Calling her name throughout the house, his voice echoed in the cavernous emptiness. He had never thought about what this farm would be like without Sophie and without Ethan; it was a thought he found unbearable.

  “Sophie!”

  The empty room answered back with silence. How could he have left her like he did? She must have been so frightened to face the Corsairs alone. And yet again, Sam felt the blame and guilt weighing on his own tired shoulders.

  He walked out to the porch, the midmorning sun stinging his eyes. Up above, he heard and barely saw seagulls circling. Their cries drew him out of his own thoughts. Ragged, troubled cries, they seemed. The birds dived among the sand dunes behind the house, leading down to the beach. The beach. He hadn’t checked there.

  As he made his way out past the house, he quickened his step. The gulls were joined now by the thrush, the warbler, and the harsh cackle of the blue jay. They all seemed to join an urgent chorus, pulling him onward. He even saw some of the birds, tucked away behind the sand dunes, seeking their breakfasts.

  From the top of one of the dunes, Sam saw her. Sophie’s hair, which was often held back in some kind of braid or other, was now hanging around her shoulders, flowing down her back, and being lifted in fiery tendrils by the sea wind. Sam heard the crashing waves, churning and spitting into the air. He heard the seagulls crying as they dipped low in the sky. And above it all, he heard Sophie screaming into the wind and the waves whipping around her. She would stand, sucking in all the air around her, then over and over would bend at the waist, expelling all within her into an anguished cry which even the waves couldn’t muffle. She stood, and though fully clothed, Sam imagined he saw her stripped to the bone so he could see what made her heart beat and could almost see the great muscle convulsing in her chest. He made his way down to her as quickly as he could, but he knew before she spoke that Ethan was gone.

  Sensing him beside her, she spoke hoarsely toward the ocean. “It’s happening again. You remember after the First Revolution, they were rounding people up, taking them away to God knows where, without any way of knowing what happened to them. We can’t let this happen again.”

  “We won’t. Not this time. This time we know how to fight. You know I’ll go after Ethan no matter what.”

  “I don’t know anything. You said we didn’t know each other or where we came from. You were right.”

  Sam held Sophie by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him, the waves churning around their feet. “No, Sophie. No. I wasn’t. I was completely wrong. You know me, and I know you. We can do this. But we have to do it together.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  His kiss was his answer. As he held her, he told her all that had transpired with Colonel Goodson.

  “Prison? So, then, what will we do once we get the children away from that facility? We can’t just come back here.”

  “We’ll have to face that when it happens. Now, time to gather your people in the Watch. We only have one day to get the children out.”

  * * * * *

  The blackened timbers and gray ash covered the site of where the ancient dwelling used to stand. It seemed to Kyle as if some great giant had just come along and blown it down with one puff. But he had seen it burn. He couldn’t understand why this place had meant so much to him. It wasn’t even his real home and served no logical purpose. He wanted to walk away and put his self-indulgence behind him, but somehow was still being pulled as if by some outside force to this spot. The spot where he’d last seen Mark. The spot where he’d watched his independence go up in the smoke from the house. The spot where he’d last felt like himself. But he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

  “You know I hate waste,” a voice came from among the trees. The blue uniform materialized into Simeon. “And this . . . this is just symbolic of all the waste I see happening around here.”

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, my son. Why are you here?”

  “I was on my way back to Gemma’s house from the town square. I’ve tried to talk to some of the people at the G.O., calm their fears as you instructed.”

  “Excellent. I’m glad you’ve remembered how to follow orders.”

  “Sir?”

  “You know what happened here, don’t you?”

  “No, sir. I saw this place burning a few days ago. I was just curious about it. I’d never known there was a house back here before,” Kyle lied easily.

  “Really, now?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Now, isn’t that interesting?” Simeon walked around Kyle, not looking at him. He held a short whip in his hand, occasionally hitting his boot with it, occasionally tapping Kyle on the shoulder with it. “Then it doesn’t make sense, does it?” he continu
ed.

  “What doesn’t make sense, sir?” Kyle stood at attention while Simeon circled him, shark-like.

  “Well, it just doesn’t make sense why Mark did what he did. I thought he’d had some reason to burn this place down. But maybe I misunderstood. Maybe it had something to do with him punishing the citizens. Anyway, a sad waste, though.”

  “Mark burned it down?”

  “Didn’t you know? He said he’d seen you here that day. So I assumed you knew something about it.”

  “No, sir.” Kyle’s jaw clenched, but his voice was calm in his responses.

  “Moving on. Now that Phase Two is underway, what information have you to give me about the Watch’s response?”

  “It does seem they’re planning some kind of retaliation. There will be a meeting in one of the caves tonight.”

  “Excellent. I expect a full report.”

  “I do worry that if pushed too far, especially in regard to their children, the people’s reaction may be . . . unpredictable.”

  “Do you really think their tiny force can make even a scratch in the mountain that is the Corsair army?”

  “There are things that can wear down a mountain, even a tiny stream. Something as soft as water can cut straight through stone, given time.”

  Simeon stopped walking and faced Kyle head-on. “Well, time is something they’re quickly running out of.”

  As Kyle heard the diminishing sound of Simeon’s horse’s hooves, he calmly reached down and picked up a piece of a charred timber, still hot days after the fire. His fingers dug into the black ash, fingernails sinking into the fibers. Then, with unknown emotions and force, he struck everything in his path with his timber. He had no connection with what he was feeling but could not stop himself from swinging the board haphazardly among the ruins. A cry ripped its way out of his chest. The birds in the forest went silent.