The Disappearance of Ember Crow

by Ambelin Kwaymullina

  “By the time we get to Fern City, I’ll be able to help you–”

  “Don’t worry about it. You should sleep or rest or … whatever it is that you do to recuperate.”

  “I sleep. But I can’t, yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Um.” I considered how best to explain. “You know how it is when you wake up from a nightmare, and you don’t want to go back to sleep in case you end up in the same bad dream?”

  He nodded.

  “If I slept now, I might get drawn back into – what I was experiencing, back there.”

  “Yeah. What was that?”

  “Something my father did to us. He made it so that we can’t kill, at least, not without consequences. If we do, we hurt.”

  He snorted. “I’ve seen Terence kill people!”

  “Not directly, you haven’t.” I yawned. “I don’t think he administers that toxin himself, and I’m not sure withdrawing the antidote is direct enough to count. Besides which, Terence is willing to endure some pain to accomplish his ends.”

  “Kind of a big loophole, isn’t it?”

  “It didn’t work out quite the way Dad intended,” I acknowledged. “At least, not once Terence realised where the limits were and how he could circumvent them. He has no trouble resolving a death, either.”

  “You’re going to have to explain ‘resolving a death’, darling.”

  “Justifying it. We have to be certain the death was unavoidable. Necessary. Problem is, what we each think is justifiable depends on where we draw our boundaries of right and wrong.”

  “That was why you wanted me to tell you that you saved me.”

  “Yes.” I don’t want to talk about that moment. “Where is this place in Fern–”

  “What happens if you can’t justify it?”

  I sighed. “It causes a systemic failure, and we shut down. For all intents and purposes, we’re dead.”

  Jules slammed on the brakes. The truck screeched to a stop. He twisted to face me. “You’re saying that you could have died?”

  He seemed very upset. I suppose the prospect of my death must come as a shock if he’d thought I was invulnerable, and he probably had. That was certainly the impression Terence liked to give. “Not dead, precisely. More like the equivalent of being in a coma.”

  “And Isabelle knew that.” My confusion must have been apparent, because he added, “The girl who shot you. She knew, and she didn’t think you’d risk it. Not for me.”

  “She was wrong.”

  “I didn’t even know it was possible for you to be hurt!”

  I shrugged. “It’s hard to permanently damage us. Otherwise, we function as if we’re organic, feeling everything a normal human being would.”

  He paled. “When I crashed their truck …”

  “I wasn’t in pain for long.”

  Jules’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. “I’m sorry.”

  “You weren’t to know.”

  He muttered something to himself. It sounded like, “You’re really something, Red”, but I couldn’t be sure.

  We resumed our journey along the road, and I curled up in the seat, angled towards Jules. “Tell me about those Illegals.”

  “You mean the minions? They are what they are. Terence’s devoted slaves. He recruits them young, and indoctrinates them in his own special brand of insanity.”

  I frowned. “He’s never done anything like this before. And that girl, Isabelle – Terence must have told her I had a problem with violence. He’s never shared information about our family like that before, either.”

  “Belle always was one of his special pets. He has a few, among the minions. The ones who worship him the most. And hate what they are the most.”

  Obedience is service, and service is redemption. That was what the boy had said, back on the train. It sounded as if Terence had started some kind of cult, which was both disturbing, and unexpected. Terence had never been very good with people, and manipulation on this scale required an in-depth understanding of human nature. The amount of time he must have put in to thinking this up, and making it work … although I could see how much it would appeal to him to have an army of utterly loyal Illegals. He’d consider that outcome to be worth any amount of effort. “How many minions does he have?”

  “Ten that I’ve met. I don’t think there are that many more. I was supposed to be one of them.”

  “You?”

  “Seems crazy, doesn’t it? But he tried to twist me up along with the rest, using all the usual crap everyone says about people with abilities – you know, we’re unnatural, we’re dangerous, we’re unworthy. Basically wanted me to believe that my only shot at ever being part of the Balance was to obey his every whim.” He shook his head with mock regret. “I guess I’ve just always loved myself too much for it to work.”

  I laughed, and he added, “Truth is, he didn’t try that hard with me. I think he realised he might have a use for someone who could operate independently. Except I always knew he’d kill me for it, one day.”

  “He’s missed his opportunity.” I replied in satisfaction. “You’re going to be free of him.”

  “Thanks to you.” He cast a quick glance in my direction. “Tell me something. Are you really hundreds of years old? Because you don’t seem like it.”

  “Does Terence?”

  “No,” he answered thoughtfully. “I guess not. In fact, sometimes he’s really childish, in a scary kind of way.”

  “It’s because we were built with the intellects of adults – very smart adults – and the emotional capacity of infants. For us, ‘aging’ is our emotional maturity catching up with our mental maturity, and that means learning to process emotions.” I spotted another crow, and gave it a little wave. “Unfortunately, only one of us was ever very good at it.”

  “Not Terence, I take it.”

  “No, not Terence. Someone else – the youngest of us, and the best. The most human. He was the one who taught us how to grow up. Or started to.”

  “Why did he stop?”

  I shouldn’t have let myself be drawn into this conversation. “He died.”

  Jules made a startled exclamation. “From killing someone?”

  “No. This was before Dad made it hard for us to kill. It was – something else.” And I didn’t want to think about that long ago death, any more than I wanted to contemplate the deaths earlier today. “It’s not important how. What’s important is, after that, we found it difficult to learn how to process what we felt. We’ve been a bit unstable ever since.”

  He frowned. “You seem fine to me, Red.”

  “That’s because you’re comparing me to Terence.” And Terence’s unstable emotions are directed at other people. Mine are directed at myself.

  “How old were you when your brother died?”

  “It depends on how you count. I’d … existed for a while, or my body had. But I’d only been awake and aware for seventeen years.”

  He nodded. He wasn’t surprised by that answer. Smarter than he likes to pretend. Good at reading people, as well. I wondered whether that was itself an aspect of his ability; if he was able to mirror emotions, the same way he mirrored appearances. Whatever it was, he’d understood me sufficiently to realise that, in so many ways, I really was seventeen years old. And not just because that’s the age I was when I lost my baby brother. But I was too tired, now, and too low, to launch into any further explanation of the complicated mess of my long life.

  We sat in silence for a while, winding our way along the meandering road. Eventually I did sleep, and felt the better for it. When I woke, the afternoon light was fading to the grey of early evening. I persuaded Jules to let me take the wheel for a while, giving him a chance to get some rest.

  He dozed in the seat beside me. I kept stealing glances at his face, thinking about everything that had happened since I met him, and the last time I’d seen him on the train. Finally he said, without opening his eyes, “Stop wat
ching me, sweetheart.”

  “Sorry. I was wondering what made you change your mind.”

  “Change my mind about what?”

  “Helping me.”

  He blinked, seeming confused.

  “You let the minions take me,” I explained, “but then you changed your mind.”

  “Is that what you think?” He sat up. “Guess I can see why. It took me a while to figure you out, but I wasn’t – look, those two caught me by surprise, back on the train, and they were between me and the weapon before I knew it. I only let them take you because I couldn’t win, not until I got my hands on something that would give me a fighting chance.”

  “Such as a very large truck?”

  “Yeah. Well. I would’ve tried something else, if I’d known you could be hurt. But I was always coming for you, Red.”

  If I continued to stare at him, I was going to drive right into the forest. I redirected my attention to the road. “Well that’s … I mean – it’s good to know that.” There was a very silly smile pulling up the corners of my mouth. I forced it away. It was foolish, and I could feel his gaze on me. “Stop watching me, Jules.”

  He laughed, and sank back into the seat.

  I drove on, listening to Jules’s breathing grow steady and deep. He really was asleep this time.

  There was no one to witness my foolishness now, except perhaps for the crows, and crows kept each other’s secrets.

  I was always coming for you, Red.

  I let myself smile.

  THE HIDE-OUT

  “Exactly where is this hide-out?” I asked.

  Jules and I had been wandering the narrow backstreets of Fern City for some time now, and I was tired. I still needed more rest to recover from the after-effects of killing someone, and I wished we could have driven through the city rather than walked. But the truck wouldn’t fit down these streets. Besides, we were trying to blend in and the truck was far too noticeable.

  “We’re nearly there,” Jules replied.

  “You said that twenty minutes ago.”

  “Yeah, and it’s even truer now.” He stopped in front of a laneway. “Actually – here we are.”

  I peered into the alley, which ended in a dark tangle of king-ferns and pepper vines. This was obviously one of the parts of the city that had been abandoned to the Deepwood when the vegetation became too aggressive to tame. “I think you’ve taken a wrong turn.”

  “I never take wrong turns. Come on.”

  He dived into the forest, and I hurried after him. We forced our way through the plants until he stopped in front of a gnarled tree that was growing against a crumbling wall.

  “Now we climb,” he said, and scrambled upwards. I followed, pausing to watch as he uncoiled something from a high branch and sent it dangling down the other side of the wall. Rope ladder? My day was not improving. I hauled myself up the tree, along the branch, and – slowly – down the ladder. Then Jules and I pushed through yet more forest until we reached another wall. This one was completely covered with pepper vines, and Jules took hold of a handful, yanking them aside to reveal a door. “Welcome to my Fern City hide-out.”

  I pushed at the door, which swung open onto utter darkness. Jules went in and suddenly there was light. He’d switched on three portable solar lamps, and the soft glow they cast showed a narrow folding bed, two chairs, and a small camp stove in the corner. The rest of the space was taken up with piles of things – clothes, jars of food, cups and plates, blankets, and an array of containers holding who knew what else. I collapsed into one of the chairs and motioned to the other. “Sit down and I’ll deal with that toxin.”

  He shook his head. “You look worn out, Red. Maybe you should get some more sleep first.”

  “We have to do this now. I don’t know how long the antidote Terence gave you will last.”

  He sat, and I leaned over to take his hand in mine. The truth was, I probably was too tired to attempt this, but I wasn’t willing to leave Jules at risk for one second longer than I had to.

  I called upon the nanomites that lived within my body. They responded, waking from an inert state into a buzzing swarm, eager for instructions. Signals bounced back and forth between us as I explained what they had to do. The mites chattered among themselves, deciding how many of them were required. Most returned to a dormant state, while the chosen few waited, quivering with impatience to begin their task. I sent them forth and they flowed into Jules, charging after the toxin.

  “It’s done.” I let him go and sat back. It was becoming extraordinarily difficult to keep my eyes open.

  Jules stood, grasping hold of my shoulders and peering into my face. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Everything is fine.” I’d pushed myself beyond my limits and desperately needed sleep, but it had been worth it. I saved you. I did. “I do not yield you to Terence,” I whispered. “Not body nor soul.”

  I had just enough energy left to smile before sleep carried me away.

  Awareness returned by degrees, a slow and pleasant drift into wakefulness. I was lying on a bed, my head cushioned on a pillow. Jules was sitting opposite me, slouched in a chair. He was sleeping; I must have been out for a while.

  I yawned and sat up. The bed creaked, the sound loud in the small space, and Jules jerked awake.

  “Hi,” I said.

  He leaped out of his chair. “Are you all right? What can I do? How can I help?”

  I eyed him in bemusement. “I don’t need any help.”

  “You’ve been asleep for five days!”

  Five days? I’d underestimated how long it would take me to recover. “I must have needed more rest than I thought.”

  “I couldn’t wake you, Red.” His voice was shaking. “I thought you were dead. Your version of dead, I mean. I thought – helping me, with the toxin – had somehow killed you.”

  I couldn’t quite stifle a laugh. He glared at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but there’s no way removing the toxin could have killed me. I simply needed to rest, and now I don’t.”

  Except I did, a little, which was rather strange. I shouldn’t have woken until I was completely recharged. Then I felt it; a faint tugging at the periphery of my senses.

  I was being warned.

  My gut churned in fear. “Jules, remember how I told you that I can do things my brothers and sisters can’t? One of them is being able to tell when a member of my family is nearby. Someone’s coming this way.”

  “Terence? Where? How close is he?”

  “I don’t know! Let me concentrate for a moment.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed, perching on the edge and closing my eyes as I tuned in to the feeling. Whoever was approaching was on the road that led to the city, and still some distance away. It probably was Terence, but I had no way of determining that for certain.

  I opened my eyes again. Jules was watching me, tense and poised for flight. “I don’t know who it is, but they’re half a day from here.”

  He relaxed, dropping back into the chair. “We’ve got time to get out. I’ve got places we can go. Unless you have somewhere in mind?”

  He didn’t understand. There was no reason why he should, of course, because I hadn’t explained yet. I reached into the neck of my shirt, drawing out the river stone that I’d carried all the way from the Firstwood. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “This is hardly the time for a chat, darling–”

  “It’s important. Listen, please.” I held out the stone. “I can put memories into things, and I’m going to put some into this. They’re for Ash. I mean, Ashala Wolf, leader of–”

  “I know who she is. You’re saying you want to go to the Firstwood?”

  “No, I want you to. With the stone that has the memories in it. Because I’m going to Terence.”

  He spluttered. “You are not!”

  “I have to. Terence wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to find me if he didn’t want me for something
particular, and I need to know what it is. I’m worried about what he’s planning.”

  “So spy on him. From a distance.”

  I sighed. “Jules, almost the first thing you said to me was that I was a ‘runaway, rebel, and Tribe member’. You knew I was with the Tribe, which means Terence knows, and don’t try to tell me he doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, he said there was no way a group of kids could survive in a forest without help. So what?”

  “So if I go back to the Firstwood, he’ll eventually come after me there. I won’t put my friends in danger.” And by the way, it isn’t me who makes the Tribe possible. It’s Ash. Only I didn’t tell him that. It was hard to explain how extraordinary Ash was to someone who hadn’t met her, and once they had met her, no explanation was required. “I’ve left Ash some clues – there’s a hidden room, and a poem in my lab. Tell her about them if she hasn’t found them yet. And tell her I put the poem in order, from the most trustworthy of us to the least. And–”

  “There’s another way to do this,” he interrupted. “Leave the Tribe.”

  “What?”

  “Leave ’em! Terence’ll have no reason to go after your pals then.” He grinned his crooked grin. “Run away with me, Red.”

  “I don’t have time for jokes, Jules!”

  The smile faded. “Don’t think much of me, do you?”

  He was serious? He’s been sitting here for five days, thinking I was dead because I helped him. He felt a sense of obligation. Except he was asking the impossible. “I can’t run. I can’t take the chance that Terence will hurt the Tribe to draw me out.”

  He shook his head. “I thought you were a lot of things, but I never thought you were crazy. Going to Terence is nuts.”

  Perhaps it was. That didn’t bother me. There were times when protecting the people you loved, the people you were responsible for, required doing something crazy. Ash understood that. All of the Tribe did.

  Jules didn’t. He didn’t have a family. I tried to make him see it anyway. “You helped someone escape from Terence once, that woman who died of the poison. You wouldn’t have known where she ran to if you hadn’t helped her. When someone you care about needs help, you take a risk–”