“Soquili!” I sobbed. “I thought—”
“Shh,” he said and pried my hands from his waist. He kissed my forehead. “We must go now.”
“I heard Addy—”
“Shh. Do not think of that. Come now.”
I followed him to the door, and was met by a crowd of Cherokee, all blocking the entrance and facing the empty inner circle of the fort’s yard. They seemed content to stand there, apparently in animated conversation with each other. Wahyaw was the only one to look at me, and his smile was huge. At his feet lay my unconscious jailer, completely unaware of the jailbreak. Adelaide ran to me and we held each other for a moment, speechless.
Then she kissed my cheek. “I thought you were gone, Maggie. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Me, too,” I said.
Wahyaw grunted from behind her. “Go. We can talk later. Go now.”
Addy grabbed my hand and pulled me to the edge of the crowd. Everything felt unreal; even the warm dirt beneath my feet felt foreign after the past two months. The sky was an amazing shade of blue, like the beading on Adelaide’s new tunic. She yanked me farther into the sheltering crowd of Indians, and I saw three horses tethered to a post. Soquili tugged the knots free and tossed me onto one horse. He unpacked a heavy fur from our horse’s pack, then passed it up to me. He climbed up behind me and, though it was a warm day, wrapped the fur around my body, partially covering my face. Soquili tucked one arm around my waist and urged our horse forward. I felt his breath on my neck when he leaned in and spoke in my ear.
“You feel small, Ma-kee,” he said. “We will feed you soon.”
The horses walked sedately through the fort to avoid notice. Wahyaw went first.
“Not too slow,” he muttered over his shoulder. “They will discover you are gone soon. If we can get through here, we will be fine.”
The horse hair was rough but comforting on my calves. The sounds of people talking, of dogs barking and babies crying—every noise pushed the isolation of the cell farther away. I leaned against Soquili’s bare chest and smelled his scent. I never knew anything could smell so good.
Other than the noisy crowd of Cherokee, there was very little movement within the bleak walls of the fort. I supposed in times of battle, this area would swarm with bright red uniforms. But whenever I’d been here, there had been no sign of a regiment, other than the occasional soldier wandering through the grounds or carrying supplies. Occasionally there was a guard or two set up at the other entrance, blocking the archway we now approached, but not very often.
I was hot inside the fur, and it itched terribly, but when I shifted, Soquili tightened his grip.
“Be still,” he said.
The horses’ steps thudded against the earth as we drew closer to the archway. And suddenly my heart began pounding and I broke into a cold sweat.
“We’re not going to make it, Wahyaw. Run!” I said quietly.
Wahyaw nudged his horse into a canter, and we did likewise. But it wasn’t fast enough. I felt it coming, the pressure of pursuit building in my head.
If they caught me again, they would hang all of us.
“Wahyaw—” I said, but was interrupted by a shout somewhere behind us. The fort soon filled with men’s voices, raised in agitation.
Wahyaw kicked his horse hard, and we roared toward the entrance. I leaned around Soquili to see what was happening, and was amazed by the number of soldiers I saw. All this time I had assumed the fort was empty, or nearly so. Now they flooded through every door, guns in hands.
Two guards were stationed at the archway. Even if they hadn’t heard the warning, our mad gallop would have given us away. They aimed muskets directly at us and fired. And missed. We kept running, outpacing the shots that came from behind, thundering past the guards as they tried to refill their muskets. The brothers whooped as we burst from the fort, and pushed the horses toward the relative safety of the trees. No one knew these woods like my Cherokee.
The soldiers weren’t prepared. Their horses still lazed in their stalls. So we went unaccompanied into the woods. But they would come soon. One didn’t need to see into the future to know that.
We rode for an hour, barely speaking. Eventually, as the sun began to set, we slowed and Wahyaw dropped from his horse. He reached up to help Adelaide down, and Soquili did the same for me. Then I stared at them all, and they stared at me. I smiled. Even my smile felt foreign.
“Thank you,” I said.
Adelaide flung herself on me and we started to cry, talking nonsense between sobs. Over her shoulder I saw Soquili smile before he turned away with Wahyaw.
She led me to a log, where we sat and kept talking. I didn’t want to talk about the jail, but couldn’t seem to stop. Except really, there wasn’t much to say. She heard me repeat how cold it was. How dark. How lonely. How sad. But I didn’t mention the absence of the dreams. We’d barely spoken of them before, and I didn’t want to start now. I listened to her talk about the difficulties they’d faced trying to see me. About how Waw-Li had shut herself into her house with the elders and they hadn’t come out for days. About how Wahyaw and Soquili finally lost all patience and broke me out of jail the only way they could.
While we talked, the brothers set up a tarp and laid out furs where we would sleep. They lit a small fire and roasted roots and small birds over it. When the evening was over, Adelaide and I snuggled together under the furs.
The air, the beautiful air, breathed life back into my dreams.
Andrew, I thought. Please, Andrew.
He came into focus slowly, as if he had to find his way. When his face appeared, my veins seemed to pulse with liquid fire. How had I existed without him?
“Maggie!” His eyes were shadowed with concern. “Where have ye been? It’s been weeks since—”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“But where were ye? Wha’ happened? I’ve had the worst dreams of late.”
I held my hands up and he took them in his own, intertwining his fingers with mine, warming my hands with his invisible blood.
“Where are you?” I asked. My story was so long, and I knew our time was brief. The dreams were always too short, always ending when I needed him most.
“I’m here. I’m close.” He stepped closer. “Are ye all right, mo nighean? Are ye no’ well? Ye’re pale, Maggie. Very pale.”
He caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and I leaned into them. If only I could stay like this forever, safe in his mind.
“Don’t worry about me,” I whispered.
“How can I no’?”
“I have a lot to tell you, but I don’t want to squander this time talking about it. I just want to feel you. You have no idea how badly I’ve needed you, Andrew. I felt empty when I couldn’t dream of you.”
He frowned. “You couldna dream?”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “For almost two months.”
I was thinking, Hold me, but he was there before I could say the words. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight. His tunic was a faded white, stained and smelling of earth and sweat. The wool that was always draped over his shoulder scratched my cheek and I nuzzled into it, wanting to relish every stubborn fibre. His breath was in my hair, warm and delicious. I lifted my chin to kiss him and felt his lips touch mine for a heartbeat before I was shaken awake.
“Ma-kee,” Soquili murmured. “The soldiers have come. We must go.”
It was still very early. The calls of birds were still unpracticed, the odd starling calling for a friend. Adelaide silently rolled up the furs and passed them to Wahyaw, who packed them onto the horses. Soquili hoisted me onto our horse and slid on behind me. We set off into the rough deer paths.
“What’s happening?” I whispered to Soquili. “How did they find us?”
Soquili leaned forward and rested his chin on my shoulder. “They have a scout.”
Our horse lurched over a dip in the path, and we swayed forward with the momentum. Soquili was alread
y warm in the predawn chill, and he wrapped himself around me. He sighed in my ear, a perfect sound of satisfaction.
“Soquili—” I said.
“Shh,” he replied. “I am only keeping you warm. Never be afraid of me, Ma-kee.”
We rode on and I let myself be cradled against him. I closed my eyes and tried to disappear into the world I had missed so much. I wanted to feel again. I set my mind free to travel the trails, and they brought me back the image of Joe.
He was in the forest, too, I realised. He turned and spoke with someone, and I saw a red coat behind him. He was their scout. It made sense. Joe, I knew, would be able to find us. Of anyone, he was the most dangerous. But I understood him now. I had been in his mind and seen the confusion that influenced his thoughts. I had travelled through his past and seen who he was, though he didn’t know himself. I could reach him again.
“Joe,” I called to his mind.
He stood straight and looked up, his eyes raking the shadowed leaves, hunting for the source.
“You know I’m not there,” I said.
I felt the fear in him, and understood. Joe had felt me in his mind before, and he knew what I could do.
“Let us go,” I begged.
His mind flickered with red coats and a sense of responsibility. He had a duty to lead them to us, to see justice done.
“It’s not justice,” I told him. “You know it isn’t.”
Thoughts of the white world he had wanted for so long sat heavily on his heart. If he caught us, he would be lauded as a hero among the white people. Or so he thought. If he let us go, he would be nothing to them.
Then his thinking softened. He remembered our moment in the jail, when our minds had merged. He had had time to reflect on that. He still found it funny that I called him a good man.
“You will prove it to yourself, Onafa,” I said, and he snorted.
“Did you say something?” Soquili asked, bringing me back to the moment.
“I don’t know,” I said, turning to smile at him. “Did I?”
Wahyaw shot us a look, and we were quiet again. I watched little things scurry through the forest, creatures I might never have seen again if the judge had gotten his way. The army following us would be hungry. They needed to please Schneider. I felt for Joe and his divided loyalties.
The path eventually opened into a huge field, ringed by trees. It looked as if it might have been cleared years before by a farmer, but left barren since then. To Wahyaw the open space was an invitation to run. The horses picked up his cue and started trotting to stay together. Adelaide grinned at me, bouncing up and down with the horse’s gait.
It took no more than a tiny metallic click to alert us. It came from the right, from within the trees. We were instantly on guard.
“Joe?” I called in silence.
Joe’s jaw was set, his expression an uneasy blend of pride and shame. He wasn’t surprised to see me this time. It was as if he’d known exactly where I was. That was when I realised my thoughts had acted like a beacon. He had led the army to us, and we were surrounded.
Wahyaw let out a piercing shriek and the horses leaped into action, racing across the open meadow as muskets began firing all around us. Soquili reached behind him and pulled out his arrows as we went, shooting blindly into the trees. We hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet before I heard Adelaide’s scream.
The musket ball hit her and sent her flying from her panicked horse. She landed in a motionless heap, and I could sense nothing from her.
“No!” I screamed. “Turn around, Soquili! Get Addy!”
Wahyaw yelled something to his brother, but I missed it.
“Soquili! Go back!” I cried.
“I must keep you safe, Ma-kee,” Soquili said, and kicked his mount forward. “My brother will go for your sister.”
I twisted around him, craning to see through tearing eyes. “Turn around, Soquili! Turn around!”
Wahyaw raced through the musket fire, bent low over his horse’s neck. The soldiers were emerging from the trees, and I felt a sense of helplessness as the big brave leaped from his horse and grabbed my sister over his shoulder. He suddenly swerved sideways and I saw he’d been shot in his arm, but it didn’t stop him. He was mounted and running again as if nothing had happened, Adelaide leaning against him.
Behind us, the soldiers had gotten onto their horses.
We plunged into the trees, hoping to hide again, but I knew Joe would be able to track us anywhere. The cavalry thundered behind us, crashing through trees, hunters intent on the fox. There was nothing I could do. I wanted to call back to Wahyaw, to see if Adelaide was all right, but couldn’t chance being overheard by our pursuers. I couldn’t even look behind Soquili without toppling us both from our horse. So I leaned low against the horse’s neck and let Soquili take care of us all.
He had a goal in mind. I could tell. I felt it in the set of his body against mine, the concentration that kept his breath silent.
Wahyaw was behind us, with Adelaide slumped in front of him. I had never been able to read Wahyaw’s thoughts. He was a blank wall almost all of the time. But I sensed a crack beginning to spider from one corner. He had taken a bullet, and it took all of his power to focus away from the pain. I wished I could do for him what I could do for Andrew, give him my strength to fight against it, but I couldn’t. Wahyaw was on his own, as he always had been.
“Hold on,” Soquili whispered in my ear, and we dove down a steep hill, both of us leaning back to help the horse’s balance. The mare’s front hooves slid down the muddy hillside, but she caught herself and kept going. At the bottom of the hill raced a river, maybe twenty feet across. It curdled with excitement, white water swirling over hidden rocks and caverns.
Our mare hesitated at the bank, but Soquili didn’t. He kicked and moved his upper body, urging her forward, and she trusted him. Wahyaw’s mount did the same, plunging into the water upriver. I could see Adelaide now, curled against Wahyaw as if she were sleeping. Wahyaw saw me glance over and smiled. He nodded. He thought she would be all right.
Our horse arched her neck, concentrating on the hungry current. She stumbled on the uneven riverbed and threw her head up with concern, but Soquili spoke to her, his words encouraging. She seemed to take strength from him, and stepped with more confidence into the foamy water.
All at once the earth vanished from beneath her hooves. We dropped until icy water licked at our necks, and I felt the churning, panicked power of the horse’s legs beneath us. I visualised her muscles, bunching, flexing, struggling to cut through the current, and tried to blend my thoughts into her body. I imagined she felt me there, though I could never know if she had.
“Don’t let go,” Soquili said.
Beside us, Wahyaw’s horse laboured, but seemed to maintain a better footing. Wahyaw’s jaw was clenched, but his arm was tight around Adelaide, his eyes blinking away the mist of the rapids.
When our mare struck ground, we were jerked upright so suddenly we grunted. We ran, streaming water, back into the forest. Shots rang out behind us, splintering trees and cracking against rocks, but we kept on. We had to get away, but stop soon, to rest the horses.
The sound of pursuit ceased after a while, so we rode a little farther, then stopped.
Wahyaw slipped off his horse and pulled Adelaide against him, then carried her to a shaded spot where the forest floor was patched with soft moss in brilliant shades of green, yellow, and pink. I ran over the spongy plants and knelt beside her while Wahyaw straightened and went to his brother.
The bullet had caught her between her right shoulder and her neck. I couldn’t see the ball, but saw the bloodied path it had taken. I pressed my hands hard over it, concentrating on the injury as Waw-Li had taught me, focusing on the source, the severed blood vessels, encouraging Adelaide’s heart to slow the blood flow.
“There is another way around the river,” Wahyaw said behind me.
“I know,” Soquili said. “But their tracker will ne
ed time to find it. They cannot follow us now or their gunpowder will be soaked.”
“Can we stay here for the night?” I asked
Wahyaw grunted, then nodded. Soquili frowned and touched his brother’s arm.
“They shot you?” Soquili asked.
“Twice,” Wahyaw said, then spat into the moss with disgust.
“I can’t believe you got out of there alive,” I said, turning toward them. “Thank you, Wahyaw. Thank you for saving her.”
He didn’t like the attention, but when he shrugged, I saw him grimace with pain. “It would take more than an army to take me down,” he said, and I snorted.
“Come here,” I said. “Let me see your arm.”
“It’s fine,” he replied tartly, then settled stiffly on the grass beside me.
“Come here. Soquili, would you press here on Addy, please? Just for a moment.”
Soquili took over for me while I inspected Wahyaw’s shredded skin. The bullets had made a mess of him, but the injuries didn’t go deeper than his skin. He would heal as soon as the bleeding stopped. At the moment it ran down the side of his body in long, dark trails. He glared at me when I reached behind his neck, but his expression softened when he realised what I was doing. He wore a leather thong necklace, weighted by a bear’s tooth. I untied the necklace and cinched it around his bicep to stop the bleeding.
I went back to Adelaide’s side and Soquili stepped away. Her bleeding seemed to have stopped. I would have to go after the bullet soon.
“Will they find us here, Soquili?” I asked as Wahyaw disappeared into the trees.
He rose and squinted in the direction of the river, which we could no longer hear. “It will depend on their scout. I have seen him before, in the town.” He nodded. “I believe he can find us. We will have to move on soon. There is an easy way to cross the river, but it is maybe two miles upstream.”
Then it was up to Joe.
Poor Joe, the soul whose heart battled constantly with his head, his aspirations smothering his beliefs.
I needed to know what he was thinking. If I called out to him, he would know where I was. But if I didn’t, would we lose the tenuous connection we had built? Would he turn away from thoughts of me?
Under the Same Sky Page 23