Rebel

by Rachel Manija Brown

  “What is this, sheriff practice?” Henry replied in a strained attempt at a joking tone. “Let’s have the apprentice try an interrogation!”

  “No. I just wondered.” But Becky’s expression had gone thoughtful at her brother’s words. She admitted, so softly that Felicité could barely hear, “I guess it is the sort of thing a sheriff would wonder.”

  “Fine, Sheriff Becky. I’ll confess!” Then Henry dropped the forced humor. “Since the sheriff was investigating, I had to point her at someone who wasn’t me. Who cares about Summer? She’s not a citizen. She broke Will Preston’s arm.”

  “She’s Ross’s sister,” Becky protested, then seemed to hear her own words. “Oh. That too.”

  “Yeah. That too. Sheriff Becky.”

  Becky walked away. Tears glittered under her eyes, but she kept her head high. Then she and Sheriff Crow went into the sheriff’s room and shut the door, leaving Felicité and Henry alone.

  Up until then, Becky had blocked Felicité’s view of Henry’s body. His hands were bound together with cloth, and his wrists were manacled. How humiliating. He wouldn’t even be able to feed himself. Maybe they took them off and held him at rifle point while he ate. That was even worse. The treatment for a dangerous mutant.

  She hurried up to his cell. She had to speak quickly, before someone else came in. “Henry, come close. I have something important to tell you.”

  He stepped up to her, but his expression was wary. As if he no longer trusted her.

  Felicité whispered, “Henry, remember that tunnel I took you through? Never say anything about it to anyone. It’s a town secret. If Daddy finds out that you know about it, he won’t let you leave. He’ll have you killed.”

  Henry’s blue eyes widened in shock. “Oh. Okay.” Then he looked at her with the same . . . was it actually love? Now he looked like the Henry she’d loved when they’d been alone together, kissing and playing Secrets. “Thanks for telling me, Felicité.”

  “I tried to get in earlier. I couldn’t. But that’s what I was trying to tell you at the barn.”

  Henry gave a deep sigh. “Wish you’d gotten there one minute sooner.” Then he frowned. “Why are you here? Besides that, I mean? The council—”

  “Voted for exile,” she said quickly. “I didn’t want anyone else telling you. I’m so sorry.”

  “I figured they would. It was either that or . . .” Henry pointed to his throat. When Felicité flinched, his grin vanished, and he gestured with his bound hands to a backpack. “Mom threw that in yesterday. It has all my clothes.”

  “The Rangers will escort you, then give you supplies and a map. Henry—” Her voice suspended.

  “Come with me.” His face pressed to the bars. “Felicité, if you go with me, I’d be happy. We could go anywhere. We could get married at the first town we come to.”

  Felicité closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the bars, their faces separated only by the iron. For one wild, blissful heartbeat she imagined that: she and Henry would be together. She could do anything she wanted. They could go to a Changed town, where no one would care about him.

  And no one would care about her.

  But what would that “anything” really be? She knew what she wanted—what she’d wanted her entire life: to be mayor of Las Anclas. As a stranger in some other town, she’d be nobody. Like Ross. Or even like Yuki. He’d been a prince, but once he got to Las Anclas, the highest he ever rose was captain of a bow team. Nobody would respect a Wolfe for their family name anywhere but here.

  She’d never see Mother again. She’d never see any of her friends or family. She’d never see Daddy.

  And Henry . . . did she love him enough to marry him?

  Did she really want to marry someone who’d endanger the lives of an entire town—including her—to look like a hero?

  What would Henry say if he saw her Change? She didn’t have a cool power. It was a hideous, pointless Change. He might take one look and scream, “Mutant!” She certainly felt that way when she looked in the mirror. And if he even saw it once, could he ever forget it? Or would he see it again every time he looked at her?

  She reached through the bars and took his hands. “I’m sorry, Henry. I can’t.”

  He stood very still, his blue eyes widening. Then his breath huffed on a sound suspiciously like a sob, and he pulled his hands away and walked across the cell. He threw himself on the bunk.

  “Have a nice life, Felicité,” he said to the ceiling.

  She hated herself for her clumsiness. Hated to part angry. “Henry,” she said, holding onto the bars. “Becky was right. You get to start over. You can do anything. Think of it that way, okay?”

  He didn’t answer. When the pause became a silence, she turned away, sick at heart. And angry. Henry really did get to start over. No more secrets, unless he chose to keep them of his own free will.

  That was a choice she’d given up forever.

  Chapter Forty: Ross

  Ross knocked on Mia’s door. She flung it open, then stood in the doorway to let him get a good look at her in the graceful, teardrop-shaped blue and gold hanbok Kerry had given her for Christmas. Like her ripped shirts, it covered most of her skin, but in a way that made him long to touch the bits that were left bare. The long-sleeved blouse called attention to her deft hands, her pretty face, her warm brown eyes, and her soft black hair. All he could see of her lower body were her slim ankles and her little feet in green slippers, but that made him think about her legs under the skirt.

  Ross wanted to tell her everything he was seeing, but all he managed was, “Wow.”

  Mia stepped out, making her bell-shaped skirt sway like a morning glory opening at dawn. “I hope me in a dress doesn’t mean another disaster. I double hope it, because I didn’t care so much about Aunt Olivia’s dress, but I’d hate to ruin this one. Well, technically it’s not a dress, so maybe nothing will happen.”

  Ross nodded vigorously. Every time he saw Mia after they’d been separated for a little while, he lit up inside, whether she was in pink silk or oil-smeared overalls. But she looked dainty and graceful in the hanbok, which suited her much better than ruffles, and he loved how excited she got whenever she dressed up.

  “It was a tossup between this and the dress Jennie gave me, but Jennie thought I should wear the one Kerry gave me first. So I am.” Mia grinned. “So we match! You look great in your new shirt. I’m so glad you didn’t wear it the night of the fire.”

  “I would have, except I’d seen your dad making beet-flavored pumpkin kimchi, and I was afraid I’d slop beet juice on it.”

  “I don’t know how you can like that stuff,” Mia said.

  “It’s delicious.”

  “You think everything is delicious.”

  “Not lizard eggs. Or lizard.” Ross might have forgotten a lot, but he definitely recalled the nastiest meals he’d ever forced down.

  “Ugh.” Mia’s eyes crinkled in disgust. “I bet not even Dad could pickle that until you liked it.”

  They laced their fingers together and let their hands swing as they headed into the crowded town square. Everyone was dressed up, from the oldest citizens to the Nguyens’ baby, who wore an embroidered cap with holes cut out for his antennae.

  “Jennie!” Mia waved at her from across the square.

  Jennie was at the Riley table, gorgeous in his favorite red dress that hugged all her curves. A welcome inward warmth flowed through Ross as she looked up, saw them, and smiled. How was it possible to feel so differently about Jennie and Mia, but care so much about them both? He still didn’t completely trust that kind of . . . he cautiously tested the word love. Like home, it still wasn’t quite part of his vocabulary.

  “Ross?” Mia asked. “Is something wrong?”

  He started to shrug, then made himself speak. Pretending feelings weren’t there didn’t make them go away.

  “I was thinking about some things,” he said slowly, considering each word before he spoke it. No, he wasn�
��t quite ready to trust that one out loud. “They feel dangerous, because they can be taken away so quick.”

  “They?” Mia looked worried. “Ross, is something wrong?”

  “No. No.” Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? But once he started, he had to go on. He couldn’t leave her hanging.

  “Things like love.” His entire body prickled with awkwardness. He muttered, “Summer and Spring. And, well, I don’t like them, but Felicité and Henry.”

  “Yeah, I guess they were in love. Or in something.”

  “I think they were.” He’d seen them together, and he was sure of it. “But she still didn’t go into exile with him. And it’s not just losing someone. Henry’s parents must have been in love once, right? Nobody in this town is forced to marry anyone. But it didn’t last.”

  “That’s sad,” Mia said.

  Jennie strode up to them. “What’s sad?”

  Ross was ready to shut up about it, but Mia said, “We were talking about love. And how it . . .” She waved her hands. “Doesn’t always fix things, I guess.”

  Jennie’s dark gaze flickered to the side, then back. Ross didn’t have to look. He could hear Indra’s laughter from the far table. And he’d seen Jennie and Indra together during the fire, standing close enough to touch. But they hadn’t.

  “Gather round!” Mr. Horst’s huge voice boomed, quieting the crowd. “Time for the wedding!”

  Brisa’s brother Cisco, and Alfonso’s sister, Tania, emerged out of the crowd, both beaming with happiness. Jennie had told Ross that Tania had adored the Catalina Players as a little girl, and had moved up the date of their wedding so the play could be a part of their celebration.

  The Preciados swarmed on to the stage, almost swallowing up the smaller Medina family. The Preciados’ finest clothes were nothing compared to the most casual outfit that the wealthier families of Las Anclas could afford. But they wore what jewelry they had, and those who had none wore flowers or ribbons. The Medinas’ clothing was far more expensive, and they all wore precious jewelry. But though the families differed in size and wealth, they seemed united in happiness.

  Ross stood at the back of the crowd, too far to hear Cisco’s and Tania’s soft-spoken vows. But he could see their joyous expressions. He hoped their love would last.

  A familiar cadence broke into his reflections. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name.”

  Ross recognized that prayer from church with the Rileys. Voices rose from the crowd, joining the wedding party in a second prayer, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee . . .”

  He spoke before he even realized that he knew the words. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus . . .”

  Though many of the crowd had fallen silent, Ross continued with the ones who hadn’t. They all must be Catholics, like the Preciados and the Medinas. Like him. He knew the entire prayer.

  “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners . . .”

  Summer spoke with a reverence Ross had never heard from her before. Her eyes were squinched shut and the fingers of one hand were curled.

  She’s holding Spring’s hand, he thought.

  “. . . now and at the hour of our death.”

  Summer’s eyes opened and looked straight into his. Together, they said, “Amen.”

  Ross felt as if he were praying with both his sisters, the one he’d found and the one he’d never known. And though Summer said nothing, he sensed that she felt so, too.

  The crowd erupted into cheers, making Ross jump. Then people began throwing flower petals. A few purple and red petals stuck in Summer’s black hair. The newlyweds walked off the stage, hands clasped tight, followed by their families.

  Once the stage was empty, a fanfare pealed out and a man with a powerful voice called out, “The play is about to begin!”

  Ross, Jennie, and Mia moved with the crowd toward the benches. Summer sat with Kerry and Meredith.

  Mayor Wolfe stepped onstage, tall and imposing in The Button Dress. Ross was surprised that she’d have anything to do with the play after the mockery the Catalina Players had made of her family.

  “Citizens of Las Anclas,” Mayor Wolfe announced. “Ordinarily our town celebrations begin with a meal, with the entertainment following. But in thanks to our guests from Catalina, who all pitched in to aid us in fighting the fire, we’ve decided to have the entertainment first, so they may join us for the feast afterward. Which will include dancing.”

  A wave of applause went up as the mayor joined her family in the front row. Ross didn’t particularly care for her, let alone the rest of the family. But he knew what it was like to be publicly humiliated, and he hoped the Catalina Players wouldn’t do the same play as last time.

  The actors who entered wore plumed hats, capes, and swords. The girl with pearly scales, the blonde girl, and a guy with bright green eyes played ‘musketeers,’ swashbuckling their way through a story of disguises and spies. The fights were fun, he enjoyed the witty exchanges between the heroes and villains, and there were no rolling heads. Ross liked it better than the unitard play, and much better than the play mocking the Wolfe-Preston family.

  When it ended, he said, “Now I know why everyone was so excited about the Catalina Players coming back. I’d travel a long way to see more plays like this one.”

  Mia nodded so enthusiastically that light from her glasses flashed in his eyes. “Great fights. And a happy ending! The heads in the last play were so sad.”

  Jennie’s full lips twitched in a way that Ross recognized from when they’d watched the unitard play. He wondered what she was thinking. But all she said was, “I’m starving. Shall we help set out the food so we can get a plate faster?”

  They raced to the table.

  When Ross sat back, satisfied at last after his third helping, the musicians took the stage. The bandleader paused to talk to Paco, indicating a drum set. But Paco shook his head, then vanished into the crowd.

  “He won’t even drum with the Catalina band,” Jennie said, her smile vanishing. “A year ago he’d have been thrilled to get the chance.”

  Ross remembered how Paco hadn’t liked the folklorico shirt Ross had given him at the Christmas party. Now he realized why: it was a reminder of the last time Paco had seen his mother alive.

  Kerry appeared with Whisper on her shoulder, his pink nose twitching curiously, and Summer and Meredith in tow. “I’ve never seen Paco play.”

  “Doesn’t look like you’re going to,” Meredith said. “It’s a shame. I used to love dancing to his drumming. Come on, let’s grab the middle before the old folks do.” She elbowed the other two toward the empty space in the square.

  Jennie held out her hands to Ross and Mia. “Shall we join them?”

  “Sure. I can’t wait to dance in this.” Mia twirled, making her hanbok flare out.

  The band struck up as they went to where the teenagers were gathering. Becky and Brisa were already slow-dancing.

  “Are you kidding?” Brisa was saying to Becky. “I love being the sheriff’s apprentice’s girlfriend. I can’t wait to kiss you while you’re wearing your badge!”

  Becky’s reply was too soft for Ross to catch, but he heard Brisa say hopefully, “You could wear it on a ribbon around your neck. I mean, just that and nothing else.”

  Ross’s face heated up. Jennie stifled a snicker.

  Mia must not have been listening, because she didn’t blush. Her gaze was fixed on Becky’s waist, where she’d wear her holster. “Becky’s only got forty-eight darts left. I’m sure she won’t waste them, but I’ll need to get her more cloud viper venom eventually.”

  Summer, who stood nearby, said, “I can get some for you.”

  “You can?” Mia grinned at Summer for the first time that Ross had ever seen. “Wow, that would be terrific.”

  Summer looked gratified. Ross wondered how she’d manage it, then decided that if there were a way, his sister would find it.

  Kerry wa
s dancing solo in her unique martial arts-influenced style, her high-heeled boots stamping patterns into the dirt, her gaze fixed far in the distance. She too had been hurt by love. Ross wondered if she was thinking about Santiago.

  Closer to the edge of the square, Sheriff Crow was dancing with Jack. They’d broken up before Ross had come to Las Anclas, but they moved in perfect synch, pressed as close together as Brisa and Becky. Maybe love was still alive for them.

  And then Ross stopped watching other people, because Mia and Jennie grabbed his hands and began to dance. Jennie led, and Ross and Mia copied her steps. She was adapting a two-person dance for three, but she made it feel easy. He lost himself in movement until the music stopped.

  The next tune was quick and lively. The younger Catalina Players started doing gymnastic dances. Meredith joined them with a rapid series of cartwheels.

  Mia poked Jennie. “Show them how good you are.”

  “This is a dance, not a competition.” But Jennie looked tempted.

  “Come on,” Brisa called. “Go, Jennie! You won’t sprain your ankle!”

  Jennie laughed, then stepped into the midst of the whirling and kicking and flipping. Shouts, whistles, and claps went up as she and the blonde player did back flips. They landed and grinned at each other, then slapped their hands together. If it had been a contest at all, it had been a friendly one, ending in a draw.

  Beyond them, Ross glimpsed Felicité sitting with her parents, her posture elegant and a smile fixed on her face like a mask. When the band struck up a waltz, Mr. Preston pulled the mayor into the square, leaving Felicité alone.

  Ross waltzed with Jennie, and then he and Mia spun in the fast dance that followed. The next tune prompted an excited squeal from Mia, and she and Jennie paired up for a dance they’d learned as little girls. Ross kept an eye out for Summer, but she stayed perched on the edge of the stage, head cocked and black hair sheeting down as she watched the musicians.

  It was getting late when Jennie nudged him. “Look at that!”

  A crowd had gathered at one side of the dance square. A solid wall of people hid whatever they were watching, but between them he glimpsed a flare of green.