Rebel

by Rachel Manija Brown

  “We don’t name horses like that in Las Anclas,” he said flatly. Two steps, and he was gone.

  Kerry was disgusted with herself. First she’d mentioned Gold Point, then she’d let that “we” slip.

  Maybe she should give the foal some boring Las Anclas name. But would that stop Paco from hating her? She doubted it.

  She returned to the stall and watched the foal nuzzle under Penny’s belly. It would be a long watch alone, waiting to make sure the baby nursed and passed his first dung. Kerry wished she had more company than Penny, whom she also had to watch for post-birth complications. A rat, maybe. A rat would be perfect. She’d told the Las Anclas rat trainers she’d like to buy a pup from their next litter, but she hadn’t been told of any pregnancies yet.

  Kerry wondered how Kogatana, Yuki’s rat, was doing. She’d cuddled up to Kerry every night of that miserable trip back from Gold Point, when Kerry had been certain that everyone she liked in Las Anclas would be killed—right after Father executed her. Without Kogatana—and, she had to admit, without Ross—she would have lost her mind.

  She knew now how hard Ross had worked to keep her going, talking much more than she was sure he was comfortable with.

  “Yuki said that Kogatana means ‘Little Sword’ in Japanese,” Ross had said as she sat shivering by the fire, unable to sleep. “Ko means little, and katana means sword. He said the ‘k’ changed to a ‘g’ because it was in the middle of the word. And he said that the best swords in the world were made in Japan.”

  Kerry stroked her new foal. His coat gleamed like a polished sword. She could nickname him Katana. But his real name would be Kansas Steel.

  * * *

  When Kerry arrived at the Vardams’ orchard for martial arts training, Brisa, Becky, Meredith, and Mia rushed up to her.

  “How’s Penny?” Becky asked.

  “Oooh, I want to see the baaaby,” Brisa cooed. “I love baby animals!”

  “A stallion, huh?” Meredith said. “Bet he’ll be a handful!”

  “Is his coat really the exact shade of steel?” Mia asked. “Pure steel? Or steel alloy?”

  As Kerry told them about Katana, she noticed a new addition to the group: Summer, perched high in a pear tree. Despite her precarious position, she managed to slouch, looking sullen and bored. But the angle of her head told Kerry that Ross’s sister was listening.

  Jennie had to be thinking of Summer, though she didn’t look up; instead of joining the conversation, she’d withdrawn behind her teacher mask. Ross’s gaze flickered between them, his hands twitching at his sides.

  This should be interesting, Kerry thought, her tiredness forgotten.

  Jennie announced, “Let’s get started. Who wants to lead the warm-ups?”

  “I will,” Meredith volunteered.

  Everybody lined up. Paco and Sujata no longer attended the group, now that they were Rangers, so the only people left who could truly challenge Kerry were Ross, Jennie, and Meredith. Jose and Yolanda were competent and had good spirit, but were younger and less experienced. Kerry wondered about Summer. She was even younger than Yolanda, but there was her Change power . . .

  When the line folded around, Kerry was paired with Yolanda, leaving Becky without a partner.

  Jennie called up, “Summer, we’re starting warm-ups.”

  “I don’t need to warm up,” Summer replied. “I’ll come down for the sparring.”

  “No warm-up, no sparring,” Jennie said.

  “This is just like school,” Yolanda muttered. “I wish Ross hadn’t invited her.”

  “I don’t need to warm up,” Summer repeated, louder. “When I’m attacked in the desert, I can’t ask the bandits to wait around while I warm up, can I?”

  Meredith rolled her eyes. “Get down or go home. What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything!” With a rustle of foliage, Summer landed in their midst, her black hair swinging.

  Nobody made a move toward her until Ross left his partner, Mia, and stepped up to his sister.

  “Go back to your girlfriend,” Summer sneered.

  “I can warm up by myself,” Mia squeaked. “It’s fine!”

  Summer gave her such a scornful look that Mia took a nervous step backward. Ross looked wildly from Summer to Mia. Summer clenched her fists and glared at Ross as if she wanted to fight him for real. Kerry felt bad for Mia and Ross, but she couldn’t help also finding it funny that Mia, who could blow up buildings, and Ross, who had single-handedly won an entire battle, were so easily intimidated by a fourteen-year-old.

  Jennie stepped between them. “Ross, go back to Mia. Summer, please partner with Becky.”

  Kerry figured that Jennie thought that if she put Summer with the most timid person in the group, Summer would be ashamed to bully her.

  That’s not going to work with her, Kerry thought as Summer stomped up to Becky.

  Poor Becky shrank back a step, then straightened up, her lips thinning as if she were bracing up to die well before a firing squad. She was wearing a pair of battered leather gloves, maybe to make her feel more like a fighter.

  Mia relaxed, mirroring Ross’s movements. The way he smiled down at her, both standing a little closer than the other pairs, intrigued Kerry. He was like that with Jennie, too. But once sparring began, he fought very differently. With Mia he was gentle, patiently slowing his movements so she could keep up. But Ross and Jennie were a real pleasure to watch, their clothes snapping with their lightning-fast punches, feints, and counter moves.

  Kerry immersed herself in the rhythm of the familiar drills. But as soon as they broke apart to begin formal set sparring—one step and punch, one block—a commotion broke out.

  Summer and Becky were rolling around on the ground together. Becky had obviously forgotten all her techniques in surprise and alarm, but was fighting on pure instinct, making Summer work hard to try to pin her. Kerry was impressed. Becky would never be a great fighter, but she’d come a long way from the terrified girl who ducked rather than blocked when someone threw a punch at her face.

  “Break it up!” Jennie took two strides, and yanked each girl to her feet.

  Ross stood right behind her, ready to intervene. Kerry smothered a flutter of laughter at the appalled expression on Mia’s face as she flicked a glance from Ross to Jennie to Summer. Mia mumbled something to Ross, then backed away, edging out of the glen and into the orchard.

  “Great spirit, Becky!” Meredith whooped.

  Becky rubbed her wrist, her lips quivering as if she were about to burst into tears. Summer stood scowling, arms crossed tightly.

  “This is set sparring,” Jennie said. “Not grappling.”

  “Come on, Beck, be my partner,” Brisa said, pulling Becky away.

  Kerry saw Jennie’s reluctance to send Becky back to Summer. And Mia had vanished, leaving Ross without a partner.

  Kerry waited with interest. What would Jennie do now? Then Kerry became aware of Summer’s gaze on her. Was that behind the girl’s ploys—the desire to get the attention of a princess? That was something Kerry had dealt with all her life, but she decided not to intervene. No one in Las Anclas would appreciate the reminder them that she was the daughter of a king.

  “How about we all change up and start over?” Jennie suggested. “Brisa, stay with Becky. Yolanda, go with Kerry. Summer, you can spar with Jose.”

  Summer rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Jennie signaled the start. Kerry worked with Yolanda, who was fierce and controlled.

  They finished the set sparring, then Jennie said, “Open sparring.”

  With a challenging yell, Summer leaped at Jose. He bent down, put his hands on the ground, and made the earth surge under Summer’s foot just as she landed. She yelped on a different note, and the two began grappling.

  A smack on the arm brought Kerry’s attention back to Yolanda. Kerry resisted the urge to create her weapons, and circled, looking for openings. The pose, the focus, always brought Santiago back to mind. She let the
pain pulse through her, then sidestepped as Yolanda dove at her in a whirl of wind.

  Kerry didn’t need all her strength to fight off Yolanda’s attack, but Yolanda was determined. Then Jose let out a yell of surprise and anger, the ground under Kerry and Yolanda rippled, and Summer flew past them with a yelp. Summer twisted like a cat in the air and managed to land gracefully. Kerry staggered but recovered her balance.

  Summer angrily stalked toward Jose, looking as if she intended to fight for real.

  Jose raised his fists defensively. “That was against the rules.”

  Jennie stepped between them. “Break it up! What happened?”

  “She cheated, using her power—” Summer said.

  “He,” Jennie corrected. “And powers are allowed in open sparring.”

  “He?” Summer repeated. “No, I grabbed her—”

  Jose spoke up. “I was born with a girl’s body. But I’m a guy. I’ve known ever since I was a little kid.”

  “Oh.” Summer blinked, then shrugged. “Okay, so I grabbed his—”

  “Anyway,” Jose went on, “Grabbing private parts is against the rules.”

  Summer looked annoyed. “In a real fight, anything goes. What’s the point of practice if you don’t practice everything?”

  “Sometimes we do,” Jennie said. “But we talk about it first, so we all know what to expect. Right now, the rules are no eye-gouging, no biting, no clawing, and no below-the-belt attacks.”

  Summer rolled her eyes—and again glanced at Kerry.

  Jennie seemed on the verge of a smile. “Let’s change partners. Summer, spar with Kerry.”

  Summer snorted and stomped, reminding Kerry of Nugget in a bad mood. Well, Kerry could handle Nugget, and she could definitely handle a sulky fourteen-year-old.

  They squared off. Kerry said, “If you want to spar anything goes, feel free.”

  Summer smirked, and Kerry waited for the attack she was telegraphing. Three, four steps, and Summer’s hand darted in, grabbing Kerry’s wrist, while her foot shot out in a sweep.

  Kerry was ready for her. She jerked her own foot up, created a long looped cloth, caught Summer’s foot in it, and yanked her off her feet. The girl slammed to the ground.

  “Want to try that again?” Kerry asked, offering her a hand.

  The anger on Summer’s face dissolved into curiosity. “How’d you do that?”

  “It’s my power.” Kerry created a short hooked cane and thrust it into Summer’s open palm. “Hold on.”

  Summer’s hand closed over the invisible cane, and she let Kerry pull her up. “Pretty cool power. Almost as cool as mine.”

  * * *

  At the end of sparring practice, Kerry said to Summer, “You’re a good fighter.”

  “Of course.” Summer smiled, catching Kerry’s attention. For the first time, Kerry could see the family resemblance between her and Ross. It wasn’t just the smile itself, which both brother and sister wore so rarely, but something about their eyes.

  “You’ve got a beautiful style,” Kerry said. “Like a dancer.”

  Summer’s shoulders came up defensively, but then her mouth thinned and she sent a challenging look at Becky and Meredith, as if to say See?

  “Want to ride one of the royal horses?” Kerry asked, laughing inwardly at everyone’s surprise. Of course the entire group was listening in on their conversation.

  Summer promptly turned her back on the others. “Let’s go!”

  Soon Nugget and Sally galloped side by side past the fields, then turned up a narrow path beside an arroyo. A stream tumbled nearby, running into the gully and toward the mill.

  Whatever Summer knew about dancing, Kerry was glad to discover that she had not been making empty boasts about her riding. She sat a horse with trained ease. She was almost unrecognizable—as herself. Her smile, her half-shut eyes and long lashes, and her ribbons of glossy black hair again reminded Kerry of Ross, this time as he’d raced uphill to blow up the Gold Point dam.

  A flash of color caught her eye. The stream contained a swarm of underwater bubbles, each as large as a plum. Kerry reined up to get a better look. The bubbles surrounded flat green leaves. Perched atop each leaf was a furry creature like a bright blue mouse, completely dry in its sphere of air. The mouse things seemed to be steering their underwater craft with twitches of their bare pink tails.

  “Summer, look at these!”

  Summer paused farther up the trail. “I’ve seen those. But they were green and pink, not blue. They only come out after the rains. When the streams dry up, they disappear. Once we—once I tried to catch one.”

  We? Kerry thought.

  “I was pretty hungry,” Summer went on. “Don’t try it. They sting. Or maybe it’s an electric shock. Anyway, it hurts.”

  A different sort of electric shock zapped through Kerry’s heart—Sean would know where the mice went when the streams dried up. And it hurt just as much. The one time he’d visited her in Las Anclas, he’d said he’d come back soon. But she hadn’t seen him since.

  Kerry hadn’t realized she’d reacted until Nugget sidled, his ears flattening.

  “What’s wrong?” Summer asked. “Did one sting Nugget?”

  “He’s fine.” Kerry decided that this was a perfect opportunity to lure Summer into talking about Ross. “He just sensed that I was sad.”

  Immediately, Summer said, “What are you sad about? Do you miss being a princess?”

  “No. I had—have an older brother. He disappeared when I was sixteen. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I kept hoping some day he’d come back, but . . .” Kerry let her voice trail off.

  Summer said flatly, “Well, at least you don’t know he’s dead.”

  Kerry knew better than to respond to that. Summer’s averted gaze and too-tight clutch on the reins were sure signs of someone sitting on a secret they’d almost blurted out. We? she thought again. She wondered who Summer had been traveling with who’d died. It couldn’t be a brother—that was Ross. Or maybe someone the right age to be an older brother?

  And why was it such a secret? Dead . . . Had Summer killed him?

  When Summer spoke, her voice was testing again. “So what was it like, being a princess?”

  “I had everything I wanted. Except friends. Everyone was scared of me, because I could have them executed. Everything I did—everything—was a test. And when I broke Ross out of prison, I knew that if I was caught, my own father would have me executed. As painfully as possible, with everyone forced to watch.”

  At Summer’s look of horror, Kerry clucked to Nugget, who obediently began to canter. They dodged between clumps of hardy firs and copper-colored Manzanita bushes, then halted at a cliff overlooking the plains, and beyond them the sea. To the south lay the town, and to the north the crystal trees, shimmering like a sparkly haze in the sunlight and obscuring the ruins beyond.

  Summer said abruptly, “That scar on Ross’s throat. He won’t tell me how he got it. Nobody seems to know. Or maybe they just won’t tell me. Do you know?”

  A flock of hummingbirds swooped overhead. The leader signaled to the flock with three quick flashes of its reflective wings, and then the entire flock veered right and vanished behind the trees. Kerry watched the glints of light between the leaves as she considered her response.

  She’d bandaged that burn on Ross’s throat, and seen how he’d gritted his teeth in a way that spoke of more pain than that of the wound itself. He’d told her how he’d gotten it, and had never spoken of it again. Even now, he flinched if anyone’s gaze settled too long on his scar. She was sure that he hated having people wondering what had happened to him, let alone actually knowing.

  But she could also see how frustrated and unhappy he was with his long-lost sister acting as if she didn’t even like him. Maybe if Kerry could get Summer to see Ross in a better light, he’d think whatever Kerry told her was worth it.

  “What do you know about what Ross did in Gold Point?” Kerry asked.

  �
�Just the stupid lies people were telling in other towns. About how he’s this big hero.” Summer snorted. “Even his girlfriend Jennie said none of it was true.”

  Kerry ran her fingers through Nugget’s mane, letting the glittering strands catch Summer’s attention. “Oh, some of it’s true. Let’s see. Did anyone mention that when he was first captured, he was temporarily blinded, and he escaped anyway and made it almost all the way back to Las Anclas, blind and on foot, before he was recaptured?”

  To Kerry’s secret pleasure, Summer looked impressed. “Nobody told me that. They don’t tell me anything. And Ross keeps saying he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “I don’t mind talking about it,” Kerry said. “But I wasn’t there for that part. All I can tell you is what I saw myself. When I rode back into Gold Point, Ross was imprisoned for having tried to assassinate my father—the king—all by himself, when my father was surrounded by armed guards.”

  Summer whistled. “How many guards?”

  “Ten,” Kerry said. “Highly trained. The best of the best. And Ross still nearly succeeded. But the guards beat him half to death, and threw him into the hell cells. They’re cold stone, and so small that you can’t stand up or lie down. Imagine being in one of those with a broken arm and ribs.”

  Summer winced. “Ow.”

  “Then my father sent Luis in. He was a torturer with the Change power to burn people with his hands.” Kerry held up her hand, fingers slightly splayed, and placed it over her own throat. “And that’s how Ross got his scar.”

  Summer leaned forward as eagerly as if she were listening to a traveling storyteller. “And then what happened?”

  Kerry dropped her hand. “I broke him out of the cell. He was so badly hurt that he couldn’t even walk. I had to carry him. But once I’d treated his wounds, he got up and told me that we were going to bring down my father’s entire empire. I thought he was out of his mind. But he had a plan. We snuck up the mountain to the dam, and Ross blew it up.”

  “With his mind?” Summer said skeptically.