The rain came down a little heavier. Those unloading the grain quickened their pace. They had to be nearly done….
The snap of a twig, from near the park. Kora stiffened, but not before nudging Hayden with her foot (she was hopeless at making calls). Another snap. Someone was running straight for the silos, someone still too far away to have heard what the League was up to. By the sound of things, he was being chased.
“Hooooot. Hoot Hoot.”
Hayden let out the same call Ranler had used before. From the lookouts it was a cry for help, as opposed to a shorter call that meant to scatter.
The thud of dropped sacks. The pounding of feet from two directions. The masses of shadow began to separate, to look like bodies hurtling through the darkness.
The first two shapes drew up to one another. Kora just recognized Neslan in a ray of moonlight that broke through the clouds; he almost attacked a much shorter figure, but desisted. That person, a child it looked like, dove out of the way while Neslan grabbed a guard around the neck and spun him, sending his sword flying. Kora recognized the man’s blue uniform as he entered the ring of dull light. Ranler made short work of a second elite; one kick to the stomach and he doubled over. Kansten and then Bennie’s group ran up as the soldiers lifted their arms above their heads. Kora and Hayden kept silent in their tree.
“What do you want with the boy?” Neslan demanded.
“He’s under arrest. It’s the fourth time we’ve caught him out after curfew.”
The boy stood up from where he’d rolled away from Neslan, a pleading note in his voice. “I have nowhere to go. I told them that.”
“And we told you to get to the orphanage.”
The boy scoffed, growing bold. “The orphanage? Fat chance.”
“How old are you?” Neslan asked. The boy said he was twelve. Ranler stared down the guards, one of whom responded:
“We gave him time to find a roof. It’s time to force him under one.”
“The prison’s?” said Neslan. “I don’t think so.”
“Who are you people?” asked the boy. “Look, no one’s taking me anywhere!”
“Get out of here,” Lanokas told the guards. Both of them dropped their hands in defiance.
“Hand over the brat and we’ll be gone. Otherwise, we have a problem.”
An arrow came out of nowhere, soaring a foot above the head of the protesting soldier. Both he and his companion flinched.
“Don’t make us kill you in front of the child,” said Neslan. “You’re outnumbered. I suggest you leave, now.”
“Listen, kid,” growled the second guard, “if I catch you again….”
“Get out of here!”
Kora had never heard Neslan’s voice so harsh. The uniforms left, not rushing, but certainly not dawdling. Kora and Hayden jumped down from their tree.
“Who are you people?” the boy asked again.
“No time for that,” said Lanokas. Ranler started barking orders.
“We’re moving out. Grab what you dropped, that’s as much as we’re taking. Where the hell is Bidd?”
“Right here,” came Bidd’s voice. He too had left his post.
“What kind of stunt do you think you pulled?”
“Just because this is my first…. I overshot on purpose! To scare him! It worked, didn’t it? I knew where everyone was, I swear.”
Ranler ignored him. “Kora….”
The boy jumped. “Kora?”
“Take the kid to the apartment. I got your grain.”
Kora hardly understood instructions, her heart thumped so loudly in her ears. Everyone scattered, leaving her alone with the renegade twelve-year-old. She grabbed him by the ear. “What the hell are you doing in Yangerton?”
“I….”
“Not here,” Kora hissed. “Take my hand.”
Ten seconds later, they were standing in the center room of the League’s apartment. Laskenay had not returned; the door to the bedroom was still open, the way Kora had left it. The fire’s embers gave enough light for her to see the rips in Zacry’s clothing, the smudges on his face. Her brother was thinner than ever, not quite gaunt but something close. His arm was scratched and bleeding. He stared at his sister in shock.
“I didn’t think it was true. It can’t be true. You’re a sorceress?!”
“We’ll get to that later.”
“So those people, that was the League? It’s really you, this is fantastic! Was Sedder there?”
“Sedder died, Zac.”
Zacry’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “No way. No.”
“Zalski killed him. He killed him himself. You think this is a game?” Zacry stumbled to a chair, dumbfounded by Kora’s news. “You’re lucky you’re alive yourself. How long have you been on the streets? Where’s Mother?”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure she’s fine, I’m sure of it. We only spent two weeks at Auntie Mader’s. Mother said if she had to leave home then she wanted to be useful, so we came here. We had a few scares, but we made it to Yangerton. She started working for the Letter.”
Kora raised a frightened hand to her mouth.
“She ran the press, that’s why they didn’t publish stories about you. Mother said they were bogus, there’s no way you have magic. She wouldn’t print lies. And she didn’t want to bring more attention to what you’re doing, because sorceress or not she knew who you were with. She never told anyone that, of course.”
“She was working for the Letter?” Kora dropped into a chair, her hand still blocking her face. Zacry realized why she looked so alarmed.
“They didn’t catch anyone who did technical stuff. They went after the writers. They didn’t get her.”
“Good God, I hope they didn’t!”
Zacry sighed. “It was fun while it lasted. They let me deliver for them.” The admission was enough to make Kora forget her mother, for the moment. Her torso launched forward, with enough violence to make her brother wince. “It was better for me to do it than someone older,” he protested. “No one suspects a kid, I could get in almost anywhere.”
“Even so….”
“I knew what I was doing, Kora. Didn’t get in any scrapes ‘cept that one, when some teenager grabbed my sack. I guess he thought I had money or something. I punched him hard to get him to drop it, and he knocked the wind out of me and a guard came up, so the guy ran off. My sack was slit but I held it closed, and the guard didn’t look inside. He just asked if I was hurt…. You all right? Sis?”
“I think so.” Kora tried to settle in her seat. “How did you lose Mother?”
“She got scared when the Letter collapsed. We were staying with a woman she worked with, dull as anything. You’d think she’d be interesting, supporting the resistance, but she’d drone on for forty minutes about her garden. What had bloomed, what was dying, what should have come up a week ago but didn’t made it through the winter….”
“Mother, Zacry.”
“Right. Mother panicked. She didn’t want anything to happen to me if they found her. Not that they’d know I helped the Letter, but….”
Kora’s arm shook. “Being my brother put you in an interesting position.”
“Well, yeah. Mother’s friends told her if I went to the orphanage with a fake name, I was old enough that they’d set me up as an apprentice with someone. I never really wanted to be a smith or a leatherworker or anything like that. And I didn’t want to leave her alone. But I could tell nothing else would let her rest easy, and she’s been through a lot.”
“That she has,” said Kora. Her heart suddenly felt lighter.
“So I went along with it.”
“It was the right thing to do, Zac.”
Zacry scowled. “It seemed like it, yeah. Why are you smiling like that?”
“I don’t know. I’m proud of you going to that place for Mother. I’ve missed you and your scrapes, missed you like you wouldn’t believe. I had a hellish day, and it’s just so good to hear your voice.” She embraced
her brother. Zacry pushed her away, but he grinned.
“It’s good to see you too. You look a wreck!”
Kora wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Me? When’s the last time you looked in a mirror?”
“Two weeks.”
Just like that, the tranquility of the moment evaporated. “Two weeks? Zacry! Where have you been? What happened at the orphanage?”
“Nothing happened. Well, no, a few things happened. The food made me sick about twice a week. I made friends with one girl who I thought had a cold when I met her, she coughed a lot. Janiper.”
“That’s pretty,” said Kora. “How old is she?”
Zacry hesitated, then said, “Thirteen. You would have liked her.”
“Would have?”
“She was the mother hen of the little kids. Played with them. Hugged them when they scraped a knee. Tucked their blankets in when they took their nap, things like that. They loved her, they called her Hanny. But she got real sick. Her breathing turned raspy. She said her lungs were full of fluid or mucus or something, she’d been that way as long as she could remember. A priest came and we all prayed to the Giver when she died, and everyone was quiet for a couple days, except the toddlers. They kept crying for her to play with them. Me and another kid tried to keep them calm. Yeah, it’ll be a long time before I forget Janiper. I think she’s happier now, but she was the only good thing about that place. It smelled funny. The food made me sick.”
“You mentioned that,” said Kora. She put a hand on Zacry’s shoulder; he promptly shrugged it off.
“A woman they called a teacher came for a couple hours a day, but she was an idiot. Half her sums were always wrong. Mrs. Woodson….”
“Is that the teacher?”
“The director of the orphanage. She said she’d find me an apprenticeship, but she didn’t. I spent weeks babysitting the infants and getting punished for not eating enough. I ate what I could stomach, and then they’d make me kneel on uncooked rice, or whip me, or give me extra chores. I wasn’t the only one either. After two months I called it quits. I swore to Sedder I wouldn’t worry Mother, but I figured she wouldn’t know I left, so it’s not like she’d panic about it, she’d think I was still there. Kora, how come you’re not spitting mad?”
Kora blinked heavily. “At you? Why would I be mad at you? The way you describe this place, I’d have run away myself. Zacry, I’m just glad you’re all right. How’d you slip off?”
“My first idea was to lose the group when they took us to the park. We’d go every Wednesday. I thought I’d try it, I really did, until the next time we went out. Mrs. Woodson kept her eye on us, so I wouldn’t get too far if I got away at all. I waited instead.
“That night I didn’t sleep too good. I usually didn’t, ‘cause they’d cram us all together in a huge hall, and the babies were always waking us up, or someone would cough, or…. That night was actually pretty quiet. I was trying to figure a way out of there, and I heard the woman who watched our bedroom door sneak off around two in the morning, when someone hurled pebbles at the window the next room over. Well, I guess they were pebbles. That’s what it sounded like.”
“Was that when you escaped?”
“That night? Are you kidding? I had no idea where she was going. How long she’d be. I know you think I’m brash, but I’m not dumb. She was gone half an hour, maybe forty minutes. The next night I listened to see if she would leave again.
“She didn’t. I was in a bad mood the day after that, I thought I got my hopes up for nothing. And I was tired. I fell asleep during lessons, so they made me scrub the kitchen. That was their mistake. The cook hadn’t come in yet, you see, which meant I could do some snooping. The windows had locks, but they were old, most of them were rusty. I found some shears I was sure could break one lock in particular, it was corroded pretty good. Mrs. Woodson yelled at me for taking so long, but she didn’t have a clue what I’d actually been doing. Not a clue.
“That night I was trying to sleep when those pings came from the room next door again. I could barely hear them, but they were there, and then the watchwoman slipped off, right on cue. Her guy was back.”
“So it was a guy throwing stones.”
“I’m pretty sure. She left, just like the last time, and I waited a couple minutes. It was easy to sneak to the kitchen. I knew my way around by then, even in the dark. I hugged the walls and counted doors, ‘cause I couldn’t see a thing, not in the hall. The kitchen had some moonlight coming in. It took ten minutes, but I broke the lock and got out of that dump. I had the clothes and the money I came in with, which isn’t saying much, but it was better than nothing. I took the shears too. I thought if I got in trouble they might come in handy.”
“Wait a minute,” said Kora. “This Mrs. Woodson let you keep your money?”
“She didn’t know I had it.”
“She didn’t go through your things when you first showed up?”
“I didn’t have any things. She made me empty my pockets. She didn’t think to check my shoes.”
Kora smiled at her brother. “That was brilliant.”
“I had enough money to feed myself four or five days. I knew the city from delivering the Letter all around, but I’d never been out at night. I figured I should get as far from the orphanage as I could. Not that they’d notify the guards or anything, but….”
Kora nodded. “They wouldn’t have. They’re supposed to watch their children. There would have been fines, at the least, maybe a hearing.” Zacry’s story left her flabbergasted, but proud. She had never dreamed he could be so rational for his impulsiveness. Ranler couldn’t have done it better, she thought, beaming at her mud-stained brother. “What’d you do next?” she asked.
“Dawn was still a few hours off, so I went toward the plaza, clear ‘cross town. I passed some shabby looking buildings, let me tell you, but the only people I met were drunks. Some were so far gone I had to be a blob to them. One did yell to get on home and cursed my parents, but he wasn’t threatening. When the sun rose I was five blocks from the square. I wanted to make myself scarce that day, so I went in the first bakery I saw and bought a baguette and apple tart. Best meal I ever had. There was space beneath the building for me to lie comfortably, out of sight, so I slept there and planned my next move. That night I went to the swimming hole.”
“I haven’t been there,” said Kora.
“It’s a section of the Podra they dammed off to make a lake. I washed and drank and then walked around hoping to find some food. A vegetable garden had carrots and cucumbers. I bought more bread in the morning and went to the plaza, where a merchant sold me ten bowls cheap to go around the city and hawk them. Well, not hawk, they were black market, but you get the idea.” Kora nodded. “I made enough to feed myself an extra couple days. That was pretty much how I lived for a week. It wasn’t bad. If Mrs. Woodson sent people looking, they never found me. I’m not sure she did, though. Everything was fine until they made curfew earlier six days ago. Then the soldiers started paying attention to who was out after hours. I don’t know how, but those same men saw me four different nights. I went to different places….”
“You didn’t go far enough,” said Kora. “The guards’ beats don’t rotate, we found that out. Listen, I don’t want you anywhere near that park again.”
“I don’t plan to go back.” Zacry leaned forward, a sudden burst of energy shining in his eyes. “So, what have you been up to?”
“It’s late, you should wash up. I’ll see what we have to eat. We can talk more tomorrow.”
Zacry grumbled all the way, but he went to the washroom. Kora found some nuts, apples, cabbage, honey, and uncooked rice tucked away. She stoked the fire and had just set water to boil when Laskenay arrived. The newcomer jumped to find someone home, but kept her calm.
“Where are the others?”
“On their way. We got interrupted, but no one’s hurt.”
“And the food you pulled out?”
“Lasken
ay, my brother’s here. He literally ran into Neslan—well, almost. He’ll want to help, but he’s twelve and I refuse….”
“No child will be risking his life,” Laskenay assured her. She lowered herself to Zacry’s empty chair. “Don’t fret about your brother. Menikas should know a place he’ll be secure, and if he doesn’t, I’ll find one.”
“I know we’ll find something for him. Eventually. The thing is, I have to tell him….” The elder sorceress waited, her eyes on Kora, her equanimity almost palpable. It helped Kora find words. “Sorcery runs in families, doesn’t it?”
“Your case is unique.”
“It’s not. I come from Mayven’s line.”
Laskenay did not react to the revelation. She told Kora, “That doesn’t mean your brother’s necessarily empowered.”
“He’s twelve years old,” said Kora. “He’s reckless. He won’t know how to use spells, how to control them. He’ll think he’s invincible.”
“So show him he isn’t. Teach him his limits. If he does share your talents, it’s not your place to smother them. But Kora, you might misjudge him. It’s hard to admit, always, those we want to protect have matured and don’t need us as in the past. The boy’s young, but a far cry from an infant. He’s had your example before him his whole life, hasn’t he?”
“You’re right. You’re right, he deserves more credit,” said Kora. She thought of Zacry’s flight from the orphanage, how he had planned it to the letter, been prudent and patient. Still, magic was something different.
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 34