Rebel

by Rachel Manija Brown

  They were surrounded by singing trees. A black branch, thick with razor thorns, loomed inches in front of Kerry’s face. She jerked aside. Ross’s fingers tightened painfully on her shoulder. The obsidian branches swayed, knife-edged leaves clashing together. Chimes rang out in sweet and deadly chords.

  Kerry dared a glance over her other shoulder. She had to make sure that Summer wasn’t about to panic and run. Summer’s soot-spotted face was fixed in terror, her black eyes stark.

  “I’m scared,” Summer whispered.

  Putting more confidence in her voice than she actually felt, Kerry whispered, “Ross has done this hundreds of times. He’ll keep us safe.”

  She didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more scared when the wind died down, once again cloaking the trees in smoke. All she could see was the thorny black branch in front of her. Ross nudged her forward, and Kerry ducked low and stepped under it. The branch bent on its own, and a loose lock of her hair brushed against a razor-edged thorn. The lock fluttered to the ground, sliced away by an edge so sharp that Kerry didn’t even feel a tug.

  Kerry shuddered, terror making her hands tingle and her breath catch. She wondered if she felt like Santiago had when Father made him go with Ross past the singing trees at Gold Point’s ruined city. As she spied the red glow of a fire to the left, she decided that it must have been far worse for Santiago. At least she knew that Ross was trying his best to keep her safe. As far as Santiago had known, he and Ross were enemies. Ross had stood to gain nothing and lose everything by keeping Santiago alive.

  The smoke stayed heavy, concealing the trees, as Kerry doused smoldering, fitful fires. Kerry couldn’t decided if it was more frightening to be able to see the trees, or to know they were present but not see them. Every now and then, eerie chimes rang out, always from unexpected places and always making her jump. Kerry lost all track of time in a haze of terror and exhaustion.

  “We’re clear.” It was Ross’s voice, weary and hoarse.

  His hand slipped from Kerry’s shoulder. As she turned back, another gust of wind scoured past them, driving the smoke before it. Ross stood swaying, his eyes still closed, and then his knees buckled. Summer let go of the hose and caught him around the chest. He clutched at her shoulders, trying to steady himself. The wind whipped their hair together in black streamers.

  Kerry also dropped the hose and stepped on it with both feet. They were surrounded by black stubble, all that was left of the abandoned cornfield. Two glowing walls of fire leaped skyward, one close to the wall a couple hundred yards to the north, and a much bigger one burning its way up the palisades a quarter mile away. She heard orders shouted from the palisades, so someone was already fighting that fire.

  Ross opened his eyes and managed to get his feet under him. Like Summer—like Kerry, she supposed—his face was covered in soot, cut through with runnels of sweat. He looked utterly exhausted, but his voice, though roughened by smoke, was calm and steady. “We’re out of range of the trees. Can you tell Mr. Riley to send his fire team?”

  Summer peered down at him worriedly from behind, her arms still tight around his chest. “Are you sure you’re all right? Kerry could go.”

  Ross detached her hands like a pair of clinging barnacles. “I’m fine. And you’re faster.”

  Summer ran toward the wall, leaping like a deer.

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Jennie

  Jennie coughed, her eyes and lungs burning.

  A gust of wind eddied through the smoke, and from it Summer emerged. It looked as if the girl were flying. She landed lightly, shot up again, and lit down on the wall.

  “The fires are out around the crystal trees,” she reported.

  “How’s Ross?” Jennie asked urgently.

  Summer seemed puzzled. “He said he was fine. He got a little dizzy from the heat, but he wasn’t burned or anything.”

  Of course Ross hadn’t told her how difficult it was for him to deal with those trees. “I don’t think it was the heat. Talking to the trees wears him out. But if he said he’s fine, then he is.”

  “Oh,” Summer said, her eyes huge. “I am so glad I don’t have that power.”

  As Pa’s fire team gathered, Summer straightened up, throwing her hair back. “My brother was amazing. He took us straight through that impassable forest of killer trees! They tried to stop him, but he fought his way through.”

  Jennie had a feeling that any fighting had happened inside of Ross’s head, but she didn’t argue.

  Summer went on, “And while Ross was battling those deadly trees, Kerry and I fought through a wall of flame three stories high!”

  “I’m glad you’re all okay,” Pa replied. His tone was serious, but Jennie saw the hidden smile in the quirk of his eyelids. “Good job, Summer. You can go back to Ross now. Tell him that my team will cut the water and pull in the hose. We’ll bring shovels for you and him and Kerry.”

  Summer leaped down from the wall and vanished into the billowing smoke.

  Pa turned to his team. “We’ll start from where Ross left off, and fight the fires all along the wall, moving north. Jennie . . .” He hesitated. She’d always been with the Rangers, and had done all her fire drills with them. Pa’s team was used to working with each other, and didn’t have a place for her.

  The rumble of footsteps walking south along the wall preceded the appearance of a group of Rangers. Jennie’s heart twisted when she spotted Indra in the lead. Paco and Sujata ran behind him, carrying shovels. All of them were covered in sweat-streaked soot from the firefighting they’d already done.

  “We’re supposed to start where Ross left off and fight north,” Indra said to Pa.

  “Here’s your hoses.” Pa indicated the hoses wrapped around wheels. “You can deploy parallel to us.”

  Indra stepped up to Jennie, so close that she could feel the radiant heat of his body. Still hot, even in this firestorm. She didn’t know how to react, so she didn’t move at all, not even to blink. No other Ranger would have come quite that close to her.

  “Mr. Riley, may I borrow Jennie?” Indra asked.

  He smiled at her as if he were sure that she’d be thrilled to join them. She was thrilled. She was also certain that Mr. Preston had authorized no such thing. She glanced at Pa, who had to know that.

  Looking at Jennie rather than at Indra, Pa said, “Jennie, if you’d like to join the Rangers for this, my team can manage without you.”

  So it was her decision. Jennie shrugged off thoughts of consequences, especially when she saw the smile brightening Sujata’s tired face and the relief in Paco’s somber expression. She was needed with the Ranger team, whereas she was a fifth wheel on Pa’s team. “I’d love to join the Rangers.”

  Indra grinned and beckoned at her, then turned to the rope ladders. His long braid dangled down his back. Jennie started to reach out to give it a playful tug, then dropped her hand. They didn’t have that kind of relationship any more, either romantic or as Rangers. A flush of heat burned her face, and she was glad her skin was too dark to show it. This was just a one-time job.

  The Rangers and Jennie swiftly descended on the rope ladders. The last on the wall handed over the hoses, and these were passed along from hand to hand. Next came the shovels. Jennie was given one of these. The Rangers and Pa’s team ran the hoses out into the muddy ground north of the crystal trees. The smoke there was thinner, sometimes blowing away in gusts of wind coming off the desert, then drifting back again to partially obscure people.

  At Indra’s direction, they turned north, Pa’s team spraying to the left, and the Rangers to the right. They fought into the thick of the smoke, where the fire had burned down from solid flame to a flickering carpet. They made sure it was completely put out as they worked northward, with no stray pockets waiting to flare up again behind them.

  Jennie fell into the familiar pattern of drill and training, moving in step with Indra, who guided the hose. She and Indra worked as if they were two parts of a perfect machine. They didn’t ne
ed to talk. They didn’t even need to look at each other. She knew what Indra was doing because they’d done it so often before in drill. He was never in her way, but she could feel his presence whether she could see him or not.

  It was great to be with the Rangers again; it was great to be where she belonged. Her arms and legs ached with fatigue, but her heart filled with light. It had been so long since she’d pushed her body to the limit that she’d forgotten how good it felt. And she wasn’t fighting enemies. No one would die on her watch. Yet she was working to save the town.

  She jabbed the shovel into another patch of muddy ground, tossed the load onto the red-glowing remains of cactus, then smashed it down. When she searched for the next hot spot, a hand came down on her shoulder, startling her. She glanced up into Indra’s warm brown eyes.

  “This is as far as the hoses reach,” he said. “We’ve met the mid-wall fire teams. We’re done.”

  Jennie leaned on her shovel and wiped the sweat from her face. That last bit of fire she’d stomped out really had been the last one, as far as she could see. Sujata and Paco and the other Rangers stood with hoses and shovels, tired but exhilarated. The fire team from Santa Lucia’s well was also there, and also resting.

  Sujata clapped Jennie on the back. “That was fun. Let’s do it again!”

  Jennie laughed.

  Indra laughed, too, but ruefully. “I don’t think it’s over yet. There’s still smoke that way.” He pointed northward. “We’ll have to carry the hoses back and get new orders.”

  Jennie took a deep breath. It burned a lot less. The wall of smoke in the distance was still thick, but around her the steam rising from the drenched ground looked ghostly in the lurid light of the setting sun.

  She fell into step beside Indra. “I’m good. I’ve got a second wind.”

  Indra smiled. “I’m working on my third.”

  “Water!” Mrs. Callahan’s hard voice caused a sudden silence. She marched up, carrying a bucket. All smiles vanished as people took turns dipping the ladle and getting a drink. As Mrs. Callahan’s hands lifted the bucket, Jennie pictured those same hands slapping Becky’s face.

  When Paco reached for the ladle, Mrs. Callahan jerked the bucket so the water slopped over his feet. “Sorry,” she said insincerely.

  Jennie wondered how long she was going to carry a grudge over Henry not getting into the Rangers. Forever, probably. To draw Mrs. Callahan’s attention away from Paco, Jennie said in her politest voice, “That water looks really good right now. Thank you.”

  The woman thrust out the bucket, but gave Jennie a look even more sour than the one she’d directed at Paco. “What are you doing with the Rangers? Aren’t you supposed to be banned for life?”

  Indra stepped up to Mrs. Callahan, deliberately looming over her. “She’s here on my orders. There’s thirsty people over there.” He pointed behind him.

  As Mrs. Callahan stalked away, she muttered in a tone calculated to be overheard, “Don’t blame me if His Majesty complains. It wasn’t my idea. But no one ever listens . . .”

  Jennie watched her retreating back, feeling suddenly weary.

  Indra stretched a hand toward Jennie, then dropped it to his side. “Thanks for helping out. You were great.”

  Jennie smiled at him, but the lightness inside her had vanished. When she scrubbed the soot and sweat from her eyes, she spotted Ross, Kerry, and Summer stiffening as Mrs. Callahan approached. They gulped their water and then quickly backed away. Summer had her arms folded as defiantly as when Jennie had reproved her for breaking Will Preston’s arm.

  The moment Mrs. Callahan turned her back, Ross leaned on his shovel, obviously exhausted. Jennie glanced from him to Indra, wondering if she should go to Ross or stay where she was. It felt so right to be standing with Indra again, with their old wordless understanding connecting them, but she wanted to be there for Ross, too.

  Indra was no longer smiling. He lifted his voice. “Come on, team. Let’s report back.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Becky

  Becky bent over the blackened ruins of the abandoned cornfield, then straightened up, her back aching. To the south, the singing trees glittered against the muddy, still-steaming earth. To the north, a line of smoke beyond the mill marked where the last of the fire was being put out. The town was no longer in danger . . .

  Except from whoever had started the fire. Becky’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want to think of anybody as an arsonist, but she couldn’t help hoping she’d find evidence that it was anyone but her brother. Maybe it was one of the Willets. She could believe they’d do something careless and stupid, especially while drunk.

  Sheriff Crow had identified the direction the fire had burned in. Much of the evidence had been trampled by the fire teams, but that didn’t stop Becky from using her power to search through layers of time. She hadn’t seen anyone setting a fire, but at least they’d found out where the fire hadn’t started.

  “What do you think?” Sheriff Crow asked. “Where should we look next?”

  Becky knew the sheriff had her own idea, but rather than try to figure out what it was, Becky did as she’d learned, and considered the evidence.

  She turned in a slow circle, surveying the area. Though it seemed to be where the fire had started, no one had dropped a match that she’d seen. But there were other ways to set fires. Last week she and Sheriff Crow had stuffed rags in bottles of oil, like the ones Jennie had used to blow up King Voske’s ammunition. They lit the rags and threw the bottles, observing what those small, controlled fires looked like and how they spread. And how far an ordinary person like Becky could throw.

  Becky pointed to a grove of jacaranda trees that stood inside the town walls and rose at least ten feet above them. “If I climbed one of those, I could throw a bottle to where I’m standing now.”

  “My thought exactly,” the sheriff said. “Let’s go look.”

  When they reached the wall, Brisa’s voice rose above the hubbub of everyone talking about how they’d fought the fire. “Becky!” She was leaning precariously out, hanging onto a shield with one hand. “I thought it would be boring being a sentry and missing the play, but I got to be on one of the very first fire teams sent out! And it looks like you’ve been doing something exciting, too!”

  “Investigating the cause,” Sheriff Crow said.

  Brisa actually squealed. Becky couldn’t help laughing, the tightness around her heart easing for the first time since the fire had started. “I don’t think it’s as exciting as you think it is.”

  Brisa hung even farther out. “Oh, I bet it is! Can I join you?” Glancing at the sheriff, she added, “I could help. I might be able to . . . explode some rocks for you.”

  Sheriff Crow smiled from Brisa to Becky, the skin around her brown eye and her yellow one crinkling. “Would you like Brisa to come along?”

  “Yes,” Becky said fervently. If the worst came to worst, Brisa was exactly the person she wanted by her side.

  Sheriff Crow called up to the fire team commander, “May we borrow Brisa?”

  “Sure.”

  Brisa squealed again. Becky followed Sheriff Crow up the rope ladder, then down the other side of the wall. People backed off to give them space—not just from the sheriff, but from Becky. It was strange to not only be noticed, but to have people make way for her as if she were someone important.

  Felicité approached, grubby with soot, her hair in a tangle. Becky tried not to stare as Felicité cupped her hands around her mouth, and called up to the commander, “The defense chief—” She broke off. “My father says the fire teams are dismissed. Sentries back to duty. We’re on the night shift now.” Her eyes flicked to Becky. “Did you figure out who set the fire?”

  Becky swallowed past a lump in her throat. Henry wasn’t just her brother, he was Felicité’s boyfriend. And as far as she could tell, the two of them had gotten really close. Maybe even as close as she and Brisa. How would Becky feel if she found out that Brisa had done something terri
ble—something that would get her exiled from Las Anclas?

  Sheriff Crow cleared her throat warningly. Becky couldn’t meet Felicité’s eyes as she muttered, “Not yet.”

  “Your father will be the first to know once we find out,” the sheriff said.

  “I’ll go tell him.” Felicité took off.

  The sheriff led the way into the jacaranda grove. The thick trunks and corrugated bark stood like dark pillars around Becky. The frond-like leaves and purple blossoms of spring and autumn had fallen, leaving the trees bare. Thin twigs crooked out like a witch’s fingers. Becky turned to Brisa, hoping to be cheered by her girlfriend’s excitement, but found Brisa with an unusually solemn expression.

  “What’s going on, Becky?” Brisa glanced at Sheriff Crow. “Ooops. Wait. This is secret, right?”

  “Until we’re sure.” Sheriff Crow nodded at Becky. “Go ahead.”

  Brisa clasped Becky’s gloved hands in a warm, firm grip. “Whatever’s going on, I’ll be right here.”

  Becky took a deep breath to settle her churning stomach. She wouldn’t feel any better waiting. She examined the cluster of trees. If she wanted to throw something as far as she could over the wall, she’d pick the jacaranda to the right. It wasn’t the tallest, but it had thick branches high up, so she wouldn’t risk a branch breaking beneath her.

  She walked to the tree and started climbing. She got to the highest branch that could support her weight, though it swayed beneath her. She started to pull off her glove with her teeth, then reconsidered. Anyone heavier than her wouldn’t have climbed this high. She lowered herself to the highest branch that would support someone . . . Henry’s weight, she couldn’t help thinking. If there was nothing there, she’d try higher.

  Becky glanced down at the upturned faces far below. It was a view she’d never seen before. She’d never been allowed to climb trees, which might tear her dresses. And she’d never done the advanced training that involved climbing, as Brisa had in Ranger training. But she’d climbed without even considering the danger. And even now that she had, she wasn’t afraid of falling as much as she was of what she was about to find out.