by Sarah Ahiers
“I have the singura, though. Not Metta.”
Nev busied himself by pouring another glass of oil.
“Nev,” I said.
“She has it,” he said, corking the bottle slowly, “because you are with me.”
Nev’s cheeks blazed red and I tried not to picture Emile and how easily he blushed.
“I’m not with you, though,” I said.
He shrugged. “She knows this. Others do not.”
It all started to come together then. “And that’s why she sent me here to live with you. To continue this idea that I’m with you.”
He nodded quickly, focusing on the last bite of his bread.
I leaned back, thinking this over. Nev had said it was complicated, and though some of it was, much of it was familiar. I understood the intricacies of status. The Families ranked themselves and one another. Rank was important, worth dying for sometimes.
Metta was playing a dangerous game if she thought she could use me to fix her family’s status. Not the least because I wasn’t staying. If she was relying on me, her plans, whatever they were, would crumble around her.
And anyway, I would not let her cage me, as a tool in her machinations. I was a clipper. We bowed to no one other than Safraella and the king of Lovero.
Metta would not find me an easy pawn to control.
twenty-five
A HORN SOUNDED. LONG AND DEEP, A SINGLE STRIDENT note.
Nev looked up from his lunch, concern etched on his face.
“What is it?” I asked.
The horn sounded again, and Nev jumped from his chair. “Stay here,” he commanded, running up the stairs.
“Nev!” I shouted, then scrambled after him.
Aboveground, the wind whipped through the air. The curtains around us cracked and snapped and everywhere travelers ran, like angry ants when their hills have been disturbed.
I shoved my hair out of my eyes, my mouth. “Where are you going?”
He spun and saw me aboveground. “I must see to the snakes. Stay here!” He shouted. The gusting wind stole his words. “It is a bol!”
He pointed west and I turned.
The horizon was gone.
In its place stood a wall of dust and sand, rushing its way right toward Mornia. A dust storm.
Around me the travelers climbed into their underground homes, unhooking the ends of their curtains and using them to cover the entrances, so the dust wouldn’t pour inside.
I watched Nev run south with other travelers who were rushing to tend to their animals. The air tasted of dust.
This was my chance.
I dashed back down into Nev’s home. Silence seemed to echo everywhere, even as the winds from the approaching dust storm howled above me. I grabbed a satchel and stuffed it with everything of use I could find: dried meats and fruits, bottles of juice and water, anything that would help keep me alive in my journey back home. Then I scurried up the stairs.
I glanced at the sun. It was afternoon, yes, but still hours before the sun would set. I didn’t know how long the bol would last, but there was no point in worrying about things I couldn’t control.
I took off toward the animal pens. I needed to find a horse. Without one, it would take me weeks to get home.
The wind buffeted me, trying to push me off the path I followed. Once the sand and dust arrived it would only get worse. I had to hurry. I had to be gone from Mornia before Nev returned to his home and found me missing. He would know what it meant. He would know I was escaping and not just lost somewhere in the storm.
I made it to the animal pens as the first grains of sand stung my skin. The taller pens blocked the wind and sand, but between the cages I had to keep my face turned away from the west, to keep the sand out of my eyes. If I’d had my bone mask, it would have at least protected my mouth and nose.
A left, then another right, and before me stood the paddock with the horses and other cart animals. The paddock stretched before me, the other end disappearing in the rapidly worsening storm.
There were wooden lean-tos at the east end and I climbed over the fence and headed there.
The mules and cart horses were pressed tightly together under the lean-to, facing east, away from the oncoming storm.
Most of them wore halters, which made my plan easier. I could ride bareback, but I didn’t relish the idea of trying to control a strange mount through a storm by only tugging on its mane.
I grabbed the closest animal, a mule with almost comically long ears. She looked at me, and though she was only an animal, I was sure I read scorn in her eyes.
I led her from the lean-to and into the storm.
It had grown darker now, the storm blocking out the afternoon sun. I headed back the way I had come, until the fence posts of the paddock appeared before me, rope wrapped around the gate, holding it shut.
I unlatched the gate, pushing it wide open. It was fine if the other animals escaped. It meant their owners wouldn’t immediately suspect this one had been stolen.
I tied the rope from the gate to the mule’s halter, fashioning a set of reins, which I tossed over her neck.
The mule pinned her ears back, snorting and shaking her head in the sand that pelted our faces.
I looked west, but couldn’t sustain my gaze in the force of the wind and sand. That was my escape, that was my way free of this cage. But there was no way we could travel like this. We would be blind, or the storm would choke us.
Lea’s scarf whipped around my neck. I pulled it off.
It was beautiful still, and reminded me of my birthday, one of the last days that everything had been good, had been normal.
I ripped the scarf into three pieces.
The first I tied around the nose of the mule. It was thin enough that she could breathe through it, but thick enough to block most of the sand and dirt. The second piece wrapped around the mule’s eyes. And the third piece was for me.
I tore the bottom of my dress and used the strip of fabric to tie the scarf over my face.
It was hard to see through, but I wasn’t blind, and the scarf protected my face from the sand.
I used the fence and climbed onto the mule’s back, then kicked her forward. She pinned her ears, but followed my command, jumping into a canter as I leaned forward, driving us into the oncoming storm.
My escape reminded me of the Jonus Aix job, the rush when I’d fled from his house, dodging his grasping hands. But here, it wasn’t Jonus Aix’s house I fled but all of Mornia. And it wasn’t his hands that grasped at me, tried to hold me in place, but a storm of wind and sand and dirt.
I pushed the mule until her chest heaved beneath me, until her steps started to falter and her head drooped. Only then did I let her slow to a walk, slipping off her back to lead her farther west.
The scarf mostly did its job, but sometimes a gust of wind would find its way beneath the covering and the dry graininess of the dust would coat my lips and mouth.
I craved a sip of fruit juice, or water, but if I drank now, there was a chance the dust would sneak into the bottles, fouling the liquid.
Finally, after hours of travel, the storm began to abate. The sand and dust fell to the earth and the wind died until the mule and I stood together under a still night sky, the stars spreading over us like a comforting blanket.
I sighed, and pulled the scarf off my face and the face of the mule, stuffing the pieces beneath my belt. “I think you need a name.” I patted her neck. “How about Flee? Since that’s what you’re helping me do here.”
Flee didn’t seem to care one way or another about her name. She probably only spoke Mornian.
The moon provided light enough to see by and we pressed forward once more. I only looked over my shoulder once, but we’d made it so far that not even the lights of Mornia could reach us out here.
We made no noise as we traveled. Flee had no tinkling bridle, I had no creaking leathers. The only sounds were our footfalls and the night insects, buzzing and singing love song
s to one another in the dark.
Nev would have known of my escape for hours now. I wondered if he’d told Metta and Isha or kept it to himself—waiting for morning, perhaps, when it was clear I wasn’t returning. My thoughts focused on him, what he was thinking, if he was angry or disappointed.
He said he saw me, in Lovero. Saw the person I really was. If that was true, he couldn’t be surprised by my actions. He knew my desire to go with the Da Vias, to belong.
Thinking about Nev made my stomach ache and I shook my head, trying to clear him from my mind. When the sun rose, I would head south. Sooner or later I would reach the sea and its shores would eventually lead me to Lovero. Where the Da Vias would welcome me with open arms. To home.
Movement on the horizon to my left. I paused, and Flee stopped beside me to lip at the sparse grass peeking through the dust from the storm.
A ghost. It meandered west as well, traveling a parallel path to ours.
I pulled Flee’s head up and turned us northwest. We were quiet, so the ghost hadn’t noticed us, but the more distance between us, the safer I’d be. I’d have to keep my eyes open, though. In fact, height would only help me.
Ahead stood a large rock formation. Three stones jutted from the earth, like fingers, one of them leaning against the other two. If I could get to the top of one, I’d be able to examine my surroundings.
I pulled Flee after me, picking up our pace. Running would only make more noise and draw attention, but a fast walk was better than a slow one.
Finally we reached the rocks and I tied Flee’s rope to a stunted, dry shrub. I began to climb.
The rock’s surface was smooth beneath my fingers, worn even from the weather and years of dust storms and wind. But I’d chosen the leaning stone and it was at such an angle I could almost walk up it. Instead I crawled, using my hands to brace me or pull me forward when a boot started to slip.
When I reached the top, I stood straight and surveyed my surroundings. My breath caught in my throat.
Ghosts.
Ghosts everywhere.
Their glowing white forms dotted the landscape. I swallowed. It had been sheer dumb luck that Flee and I hadn’t come across any until now. Perhaps Safraella had been watching out for me.
The ghosts wandered aimlessly, endlessly looking for a body they could steal to try to make their own. Their slow, sad wails drifted to me on the night breeze and I was surprised I hadn’t heard them before now.
My stomach churned. There were too many ghosts, and no way safely past them. I couldn’t go any farther tonight—at least, not without some traveler help.
I pulled the singura out from under my top. Its magic would help me now.
To my right, a flash of white appeared behind the tallest rock. I dropped to my stomach, flattening myself as much as possible.
The ghost hadn’t seen me, but it turned to the left now, searching the darkness. It drifted closer, attracted to Flee’s movement as she tugged at some weeds. If it looked up, if it saw me, there would be nothing stopping it from reaching me. Nothing stopping it from screaming at me and attracting all the other ghosts.
I clutched my necklace, the singura, my weapon against the ghosts. Its weight felt comforting and made me think of Les and then Nev and the sound of his voice when he sang.
I opened my eyes.
I sang quietly, softly. The ghost was so close, I couldn’t risk anything louder. As it was, the ghost stirred when I began to sing, looking for the source of the sound.
I stumbled through the Mornian lyrics, my eyes locked on the ghost. It spun beneath me, searching.
I reached the end of the song and a ray of light burst from my spot on the rock. But instead of encircling me like it should have, it just sped off into the night, a straight line that continued for a few moments before it faded away.
It hadn’t worked.
Yes, the magic had worked, but I wasn’t protected. I wasn’t safe from the ghosts.
I’d done something wrong. I should have asked Nev more specifics about how their magic worked, about how to make the light encircle me so the ghosts couldn’t see me. But I’d only experimented once and judged myself fit to escape.
The ghost below wandered back to the other side of the rock. It wasn’t gone, but it was far enough away that I could adjust my position. My boot kicked a small pebble off the stone and I watched as it dropped to the ground below me. There, at the base of the middle standing stone, was an indentation. An alcove, almost. It wasn’t large. In fact it was mostly squat and shallow, but if I could squeeze my body against it, and get the beam of light to return, it would create a wall between me and the ghosts, and the rock would protect my back, hiding me from sight.
I hoped.
I got to my hands and knees, craning my neck to try and spy the ghost. It had wandered even farther away now, but I couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t return. This could be the best opportunity I’d have.
I slid down the rock, keeping my eye on the ghost until I got low enough that it dropped out of sight. I went slowly and carefully, trying to remain as silent as possible.
I reached the ground and stepped down one boot at a time, my toe sinking into the sand and dirt before I stood on my full weight.
Flee watched me, her ears tall and proud, as I slipped beneath the leaning rock I’d just descended. I pressed my back into the alcove.
Too small. It was too small to fit all of me.
I pulled my legs into my chest, turning sideways in the alcove and crunching myself into a flat, small ball.
Flee brayed at me, her mouth wide and her call loud and echoing across the flat, Mornian dead plains.
The ghost on the other side of the rock screamed.
I grasped my necklace and began to sing. I didn’t have to be quiet now, or careful. Flee had given away my advantage, and I let the Mornian lyrics pour out of me as fast as I could sing them.
A glimpse of white to my right, the ghost rushing to find the source of the song.
The necklace flashed. The beam of light spread before me, covering the opening of the alcove like a traveler curtain and hiding me inside.
The ghost sped past me. It didn’t stop, it didn’t grab my limbs, pull me from my body. It didn’t even see me.
My plan had worked. I was safe as long as I remained in this alcove, invisible to the ghosts.
I closed my eyes and thanked Safraella.
The necklace grew warm in my hand.
twenty-six
I REMAINED CROUCHED IN THE ALCOVE ALL NIGHT. MY muscles cramped and screamed for release, but I pushed past the pain, the discomfort. It was the only way to stay safe.
At one point I drifted off, and only when I fell out of the alcove, landing with a thump at the sandy ground beneath the stones, did I come awake. I scrambled back to the alcove and sang the Mornian song to reset the barrier I’d disturbed.
After that I forced myself to stay awake, concentrating on the pain in my limbs, picturing my new life in Ravenna, picturing Emile and his wife and how happy they’d be without me mucking things up, and anything else that would distract me from thinking of Nev.
Finally, as dawn appeared, I tumbled out of the alcove, my muscles and limbs crying in relief. I felt almost feverish from the respite and I curled in the shade of the stones and fell instantly asleep, dreaming of monsters.
Something jostled my shoulder. I snapped my eyes open at the same moment a dark figure grabbed me, dragging me from the shade into their arms.
I shouted and shoved at them, my open palms connecting with their chest and pushing myself free of their hands.
I scurried to my feet. Nev sprawled before me, an expression of disbelief on his face.
“What were you doing?” I shouted.
“You are alive . . .” he said, eyes wide.
“I’m standing here, am I not?”
He got to his feet, brushing the sand from his legs. “When I saw you under the rock I thought . . .” He swallowed. “I thought you dead.
Claimed by the ghosts.”
“And what were you doing?” I snapped. “Trying to gather me into your arms so you could wail at the gods?”
Nev dropped his gaze.
Oh. Oh . . .
He’d sent me away in Lovero. He was the one who had told me to go, had told me we were over.
“Nev,” I said, then stopped, unsure how to continue.
He looked at me, a flash of something in his eyes, then he stomped over. I stood my ground, prepared to weather whatever he would do, but he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me against him.
And then his lips pressed against mine, kissing me.
And I let him.
And then I was kissing him back, remembering the nights spent in the menagerie, remembering how I’d felt warm and safe, how simple and easy things were with him, in the dark of Lovero, when he’d been the only sanctuary in a life that was crumbling around me.
Nev pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. If kissing him hurt his lip, his bruises, he made no show of it. And more than anything I wished I could sink into his arms, into him, and forget everything else. Forget my new life waiting for me, forget my problems.
But he was the source of those problems. And I was long past forgetting anything.
I pushed away, untangling myself from his arms while he tried to keep me close.
“Stop,” I said.
He caught his breath and dropped his arms to his side.
“We can’t do this.” I brushed my hair away from my face. I wished I still had my scarf to tie it up.
“Why?” Nev asked.
“Because of everything, Nev!”
“Forget everything,” he said. “I want to be with you. When I found you gone last night, I . . .” He paused, rubbing the top of his head. “I thought you were gone from me. That I would find you dead. I want you with me, Allegra. We are here, together. We can start over.”
“We can’t simply start over here.”
“Why?” Exasperation threaded through his voice.
“Because the only reason I’m here is that you stole me!”
“I told you I had—”