by Moira Young
So, huzza fer the gawdamn social.
I throw myself down on the bank. I take off the heartstone. Dangle it in front of my eyes. It turns an gleams in the sunlight, milky an dull an cool.
It’s a heartstone, Mercy says as she puts it around my neck. Your mother gave it to me, an now I’m givin it to you. You feel how cool it is? A normal stone ’ud warm up next to your body. Not this one. It stays cold until you get close to your heart’s desire. Then the stone becomes warm. The closer you get to your heart’s desire, the hotter the stone burns. That’s how you know.
The heartstone led me to Jack. Showed me who he is, time after time. An time after time, I ignored its voice. Here is yer heart’s desire. He is yer heart’s desire. At last I paid heed. Now I know to trust it.
I gave it to him. He sent me it back.
I care fer you no more. Is that what it means? Or maybe this. Come to me, find me, my heart’s desire.
I think about Jack. How he wouldn’t be shook off. How he followed me, saved me an fought by my side. How he faced down death to help me find Lugh. Reckless, courageous, infuriatin Jack. He never let me down. Not once.
But.
Jack at Darktrees. Showin the Tonton the way to the Hawks, knowin full well they’d be slaughtered. Betrayin our friends, them who fought by his side only a couple of months before.
It cain’t be so. Emmi says I know Jack in my heart. I gotta hang on to that.
I can only conceive of one reason he’d be with the Tonton. They must of nabbed him. He’s travelled the wide an wild ways all his life. He knows every who an where an what an why. Miz Pinch used to call me her prize acquisition, when the Angel of Death was top draw in Hopetown. That’s what Jack must be fer the Tonton. Their prize acquisition.
So what do I know fer sure? When we parted ways, he was headed east. To tell Ike’s woman that he was dead. Molly Pratt, of the frilly red bloomers, with lips like ripe berries an curves to make a man weep with joy. She runs a tavern, in some place called the storm belt.
Jack must of run into the Tonton somewheres along the way. Still. Even if he was captive, he’d sooner kill hisself than ride with such men an be part of their wickedness. I know he would. I would.
I think till I cain’t think no more. Till my head throbs. That plant tea Auriel gave me must still be swimmin in my blood. If I rest, jest fer a bit, it’ll clear.
Everythin . . . all of it . . . it’ll all become clear.
I wake with a start. I’m lyin on the ground by the river. It’s dark.
Music rackets up at the camp. It bucks an kicks an hollers to yer heartbeat. Somebody’s yodellin. Feet stomp. Hands clap. The let-off-some-steam social’s in full swing. Torches light the sky. Joy sounds jig around me. The noise of it all must of woke me.
I cain’t remember fallin to sleep. I bin out fer hours. I drag myself up to sit. The water of the Snake gleams, a silver ribbon in the moonlight. I lean my head in my hands. With a caw caw, Nero sails outta the gloom. He lands beside me with a flutter of wings. Cocks his head an gives me a beady stare.
I care fer you no more.
Come to me, find me, my heart’s desire.
I know Jack in my heart.
Suddenly I know what to do.
Somethin ain’t right, I says out loud. I’ll go back. I’m gonna turn around. I’ll go to that place – Resurrection, that’s what Lilith called it – I’ll go there an find him an make contact with him somehow. How hard can it be? I scritch Nero on his head. I managed to find Lugh, didn’t I? We’ll go tonight. While they’re all asleep. Whaddya say?
The heartstone’s lyin on the ground. Nero suddenly darts at it, snatches it in his beak an takes off. He sails above the river. He drops it. It’s headed fer the drink.
No! I dash along the bank. Make a flyin leap. I soar through the air, my hand stretched out. Jest as I’m about to grab it, Nero dives. He nabs it.
I splash down. Face down. When I surface, drippin wet, gaspin fer breath, he’s circlin above one of the cottonwoods on the bank. The biggest one, it’s tall an tangled an wild. If he drops it in there, I won’t never git it out.
Nero! No! Hand that over right now! While I yell, I’m wadin to river’s edge, scramblin onto the bank an runnin towards him. C’mere, you bad crow!
He flies towards camp. He teases me, taunts me. To me, then away. To me, then away. Drops it, catches it, drop, catch. Almost lettin me git my hands on it, then snatchin it at the last moment. Almost makin my heart stop when he perches on the vent pipe of a privy shack an dangles the heartstone down it. The privy door’s sealed. Chalked with a big white X. That means it’s full.
Don’t you dare! I shout.
I leap. Grab onto the pipe. Make a grab at him. The pipe bends. I tumble to the ground an he takes off agin. I go after him at a run. That stone’s gonna lead me to Jack. I cain’t leave without it.
The social’s goin on in the big open space where we first saw Auriel. The junkband’s up on the platform, playin like the Devil’s whippin ’em on. Sawin at the stringboxes, wheezin the squeezebox, squealin the shrillie an whalin on the drums. Sweat flies offa their red faces.
Lilith sings. She belts it out in a big, brassy voice, swishin her skirts an flashin her eyes. Meg’s perched barefoot on the platform edge, flirtin with some fella. Somebody oughta warn him to stand back a bit. She’s packed her topside fundamentals so tight into her low-cut dress that it’s only a matter of time before she bursts her banks.
Everybody’s dancin. They skip hand to hand, in circles. Twirl each other around by the waist. They shriek with laughter. Call to each other. Man, woman an child. Gone the world-worn faces of the day. The music’s runnin in their blood. It shouts out life an livin. It shouts down death an kicks it in the pants.
Nero dives right into the middle. So do I. I duck unner flyin arms, slip between people, chasin him, yellin at him all the time.
Nero! C’mere right now!
Somebody grabs my hand. It’s Tommo. Hey, Tommo, I says. Would you—
His arm’s about my waist, he’s swingin me around. Around an around, his dark eyes hot on me, holdin my gaze. I frown, rememberin what Auriel said.
The deaf boy. Take heed, Saba. He’s in love with you.
Then I’m dancin with a stranger, a man. I break away. Nero! I call. I see Emmi. An Lugh. He’s flushed. His eyes glitter. So wild an rattly as he dances that he almost looks feverish.
Suddenly, the music quickens. The circles break up. It’s a free fer all. Somebody grabs my hand an sends me spinnin. I trip an stumble, bouncin from body to body, till I’m thrown right outta the heavin crowd.
Nero’s flown onto the roof that shelters the platform. He caw caws his triumph at me. There ain’t no way I can reach him there.
Dammit! I yell.
Bird trouble? It’s Maev. Her an Auriel stand a few foot off, watchin the dancers. Maev looks pale an tired, but she’s cleaned herself up. Her fresh-washed hair twists an glints its way down her back. It almost looks like a livin thing.
I’m still drippin wet from the river. Sorely vexed from chasin Nero. I glare at him, there on the roof, as I says to her, You said if I ever got tired of him, you’d take him offa my hands. Help yerself.
She pretends surprise. Did I? she says. I don’t think so. I ain’t really a bird kinda person anyways.
Lugh appears. He stands in front of Maev. The torchlight kisses his lips, smooths his skin, brushes his hair with gold. I’m so used to him, I sometimes fergit his beauty. Tonight it’s a glittery, jittery, fevery beauty.
That look. I used to see it in Hopetown all the time.
You bin takin chaal, I says.
What? Don’t be stupid. He laughs, gives a little shake of his head as he says, You cain’t stand to see me havin even a bit of fun, can you? He holds out his hand to Maev. Dump these two misery guts, he says. Let’s you an m
e dance. He takes her hand. C’mon, Maev, he says with a smile. Dance with me.
She breathes a soft sigh. I see it. I . . . I cain’t, she says. Sorry.
His smile fades. His mouth hardens. He drops her hand, turns on his heel an walks off. His back’s stiff with hurt.
Maev watches him go. I ain’t got no right to dance, she says.
I ain’t never seen him like that, I says. I’d swear he’s on chaal, but – I turn to Auriel. I thought you said the camp’s clean.
I did, she says, it is, I mean, I thought it was, but I guess I better—
There you are! It’s Emmi. Shiny-eyed, jiggin from foot to foot, her cheeks pink with excitement. You slept the day away. Lugh wouldn’t let none of us wake you. Hey Saba, ain’t this fun?
No, it damn well ain’t, I says. Jest then, Nero screams at me. An that damn bird’s a thief. He took my heartstone an won’t give it back.
Emmi points at him, laughin. Oh, look at him, way up there! He’s a bad boy, all right. As she goes skippin back to join the dance, she calls over her shoulder, I told you he’s a lost cause!
Her last words echo in my head. He’s a lost cause. A lost cause.
Maev says somethin to me. I say somethin back, I dunno what.
You’ve lost an yer the cause of it. So full of pride. You should of seen us comin by the moon, had more’n three on watch. There warn’t no moon the night the Tonton came to Darktrees, Maev said. They came in the middle of the night. We had three on watch but it was so dark . . . there warn’t no moon.
Emmi was right. That don’t sound like somethin Jack ’ud say. He don’t talk like that.
The world goes silent. Shuts down. The music, the laughter, the voices. All but one voice. His voice. Jack.
Meet me at the Lost Cause, Saba. Be there at the next full moon. It’s the rule of three.
He did send me a message. Surrounded by Tonton, with only seconds to spare, he sent me a message that wouldn’t git Maev in trouble. Or him.
Jack’s rule of three. He told me about it in Hopetown, while the place burned around us.
Him an me runnin. Swervin an leapin as bits of burnin buildin crash to the ground.
Ever heard of the rule of three? he shouts.
No! I says.
If you save somebody’s life three times, their life belongs to you. You saved my life today, that makes once. Save it twice more an I’m all yers.
I’ll jest hafta make sure that don’t happen, I says.
He stops. Grabs my hands. It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen, he says. It’s all written in the stars. It’s all fate.
He pretends the rule of three’s a game. A joke. But it ain’t. Not to him anyways. It’s how he binds hisself to people he cares about. How he binds them to him.
The Hopetown fire, when I sprung Jack from his lock-up in the Cooler . . . that was the first time I saved his life. The second time, it was the hellwurm. Once more ’ud make it three. Then his life belongs to me.
An while I’m workin all this out, while my brain’s chewin it over, my eyes go on watchin what’s happenin.
The band plays. The dancers dance. Meg still sits on the platform edge. Lugh’s at her feet. He stares up at her. His hands circle her ankles, smooth her bare legs with restless intent. She jumps down. She takes him by the hand. She leads him off into the night.
Maev’s seen it too. Her back’s stiff, her arms hugged tight to her body. A hot tide creeps up her neck. She stands there a moment. Then, holdin her head high, she turns an leaves.
The rule of three. Save his life once more an it’s mine. Save his—
Jack’s life. He’s in danger. The next full moon.
The next full moon. That’s three nights from now.
The sounds of the world slam back. Hit me like a wall. Music, laughter, voices. The red hot kicks me in the gut an roars into life. My fingertips tingle. My belly burns. An I’m wound up so tight I could bust.
It’s the way I used to feel before a fight in the Cage. Alive. Truly, fiercely alive. An thinkin clear.
I weave my way through the dancers an vault onto the platform, right in the middle of the band. Lilith’s bellowin out a bawdy song. I put my hand on her arm an she stops, startled. The Lost Cause, I says. You ever heard of it? D’you know about it?
Sure, she says. Molly’s place. Me an Meg worked there.
Where is it?
New Eden, she says. The Storm Belt, right in the middle.
Got it, I says. I start to go an she grabs my arm.
You cain’t go there, she says, you got a price on yer head.
Don’t tell nobody, I says. Swear.
But I—
Swear, Lilith!
She stares at me tight-lipped. She can see I’m fixed on it. Okay, she says, but you—
I’m already jumpin down, makin my way towards Auriel’s tent. But I can hear her voice, even over the racket of the music. Callin after me.
Saba! Be careful!
Nobody follows.
Tracker’s sprawled in front of Auriel’s tent. He gits to his feet the moment he sees me. I hush him with a finger to my lips. I check that nobody’s watchin, then we duck inside.
Lugh an Tommo’s left our gear to one side. It’s all packed up neat, ready fer a early start west in the mornin. I grab my barkskin sack an do a quick check of what’s in it. Full waterskin, flint, knife, blanket, jerky. The bare bones of survival.
As I pull a tunic over my head, I consider weapons. I’ll need somethin. My eyes go to Lugh’s bow an quiver. No, it wouldn’t be right. I take his slingshot instead. Stuff it down the back of my britches. I block out that I’m leavin him an Emmi an Tommo behind. Thoughts of how crazy worried they’ll be when they find me gone. I swallow down the sudden, tight fright of bein on my own. Jack’s in trouble. He needs me.
Move fast. Don’t think.
I grab Hermes’ gear. I shoulder my sack. Tracker’s sat there. Watchin. Waitin. C’mon, I says.
I check it’s all clear, then him an me slip outside agin. We hurry towards the bottom end of camp to find Hermes. Durin the day, the beasts got gathered up – horses, camels, mules an all – an penned in with a rope an peg fence in case they got spooked by the night’s noise. Along the way, I whistle fer Nero.
When the pen’s in sight, I stop. C’mere, Tracker, I says. He presses into my side. You cain’t come, I says, it’s too far. You gotta stay here with Auriel. She’ll keep you safe. While I’m talkin, I take a loop of rope from my belt – tough, made from silverberry twine – an tie it around his neck. I lead him to a big cottonwood that stands behind the last few shelters an tether him to the trunk. His pale eyes follow my every move. Don’t look at me like that, I says, it’s fer yer own good.
He shoves his head into me. My nose prickles but I clamp down firm. I ain’t got time to cry. I rub his ears an kiss his rough fur. Thanks, I whisper. Now, you stay here. Hush.
Then I leave him. Fine creature that he is, he don’t make a sound. Jest like I told him.
Nero drops outta the darkness. He lands on my shoulder, the heartstone danglin from his beak. Gimme that, you villain. I take it from him, put it around my neck. It ’ud serve you right if I tied you up an left you here, I says.
We reach the animal pen. Auriel’s there. She stands at Hermes’ head, strokin his nose. Star bright stargirl, wrapped in her dark red shawl. The glass beads in her hair glitter in the moonlight. Nero flies to perch on the rope fence beside her.
I walk up an throw my sack on the ground. I says naught. I don’t look at her. Not even a quick glance as I saddle up Hermes with horse blanket an soft reed mat, as I lift his bridle over his head.
She helps me adjust it. Our eyes meet. I look away quick.
I’m goin after Jack, I says. To New Eden. He did send a message. He’s in trouble.
I’ll say
this one last time, she says. Yer dangerously open, Saba. We didn’t finish proper, we stopped at the wrong moment. Please, will you stay an let me finish.
I cain’t wait, I says. I already wasted too much time.
Okay, she says, I done all I can. I brought you this.
She goes to the fence. Picks up a bow that’s leaned aginst it, a pale, silvery white bow. I stop what I’m doin. Cold shivers chase over my skin. Then I’m duckin unner Hermes’ neck an I’m standin in front of Auriel. She holds out the bow.
Yer grandfather’s bow, I says. Namid.
Yes, she says. Before he was a shaman, he was a great warrior. Now it belongs to you.
Heartwood of the whiteoak, I says. It cain’t ever break.
You remember, she says.
I remember, I says.
I reach out. I take it. My skin tingles where it touches the wood. I feel its smoothness. Heft its weight. It’s sweet. True. Perfect.
Auriel hands me a arrow. I swing the bow up an fit a arrow to the string. It cleaves to me. Like it’s part of me. My hands stay steady an sure. No shakes. No trembles.
It’ll do, I says. I sling it on my back. She hands me a full quiver. I better make tracks, I says.
Auriel holds Hermes’ head as I mount. Music drifts, dips on the warm night breeze. The scratchy sweet whisper of a waltz.
There is a quicker route, she says. It’s fast, but it ain’t safe.
Tell me, I says.
Due north of here, you’ll run into the old Wrecker road that skirts over top of the Waste, she says. If you ride fast, if you don’t stop, you could be at the Yann Gap by sunup. The road ends there. Once you cross the Gap, yer on Tonton soil. The far north-west corner of New Eden. There ain’t nobody there, you can slip in, unseen.
I ain’t never heard of no north road, I says.
That’s becuz them that take it, rarely make it. They call it the Wraithway, she says. There’s all kinds of stories about it. The Wrecker spirits that ride its length, seekin vengeance fer their lost lives. Strange beasts. Skull collectors.
I’ll take my chances, I says.