Spark

by Alice Broadway

  “Just wait, Verity,” I plead. “Just wait a bit longer. You don’t know what all of this has been like – you have no idea how hard this is.”

  “No idea?” Verity’s voice is a harsh whisper. “Are you under the impression that things have been easy for me? I am the one left behind. I am the one who had to fight for her job while you get special treatment again and again from Mayor Longsight. I am the one who is just a messenger – just a pawn. I am the one who has to stay and keep my head down and do Jack Minnow’s bidding, while you take centre stage.”

  “You think I want all this?” I cry. “You don’t know half of it – how bad it’s been for me. And, what – you’re jealous because I’m getting all the attention for once?” I see her face close in anger, but I can’t stop myself. “And you didn’t fight for your job!” I retort. “Your parents went and talked to your boss and everything was fine – you couldn’t begin to imagine what it’s like not having parents in high places making it all so easy for you. We all know your dad is doing his hush-hush specialist skin research because Longsight specifically appointed him – your family can get anything they ask for. You’re used to being the star turn, I know that – Verity, so beautiful, so talented, so perfect, not like boring old Leora. Well, if this is the worst things get for you then you’re lucky!”

  I’m shocked at my own spite and clap my hand across my mouth. But it is too late. Verity’s eyes are shining and she looks at me as though I am a stranger. An enemy.

  She takes a step back and has almost faded behind the smoke of the extinguished fire when she appears again, tears leaving trails through the ash on her cheeks. Without a word she holds out a note. By the time I’ve registered the heavy paper envelope and Longsight’s own wax seal, she is gone and it is just me, the smoke and the lantern.

  Your friend is one more who will suffer if you let me down.

  I will send for you again. Be ready.

  Once safely back in bed, I stare at Mayor Longsight’s letter until Gull wakes. I feel nauseous with tiredness and racking hunger.

  “Where’s my coat?”

  Fenn’s voice calls out and I sit up with a jolt, slipping the note beneath my pillow.

  Gull rolls her eyes and leaves the room, shouting out, “On your peg.”

  A pause, and then, “It’s on yours. Did you borrow it?”

  “Why would I wear your coat? Why do you wear that coat? It’s horrible.”

  I dress quickly, noting that my socks from last night have dried off and my trousers aren’t too caked with mud.

  When I enter the kitchen the chill makes me shiver, but worse is the look Fenn is giving Gull.

  “Just look at it.” He holds up his coat and pats it down, doing little to get rid of the obvious mud patch on its back.

  Gull turns her back, putting the kettle on the stove.

  “Maybe Dad mistook it for Lago’s blanket.” Gull’s voice is light, but it just seems to fuel Fenn’s fire. He drops the coat over the back of a chair and storms over to Gull, pulling her to face him.

  “Get off me, Fenn. Don’t be so touchy.” But he is looming over her, eyes flashing with ire and seeming so big and broad in comparison to Gull. She is brave though – braver than I expected. “What’s your real problem – has Justus told you to stop stalking him?” But he just ignores her words.

  “You went out last night, didn’t you? Where did you go, Gull?” He speaks quietly, but I think I see worry in his face.

  Gull frowns in confusion and turns away.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she mumbles.

  “I don’t believe you.” He looks at me, eyes narrowed. “I knew that marked would influence you. Justus told me she would. That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve been sneaking out at night. Just wait until I tell the elders.” Gull turns back to him, her face pale and anxious.

  “No! Don’t be ridiculous. Leora’s just a girl, like me. And we’ve not been going anywhere.”

  I can see Fenn draw himself up, ready to retaliate or run to the elderhouse right now. I can’t let this go – I can’t have him find out and I won’t allow Gull to be blamed for my actions. I clear my throat.

  “Actually, Fenn, um – I’m really sorry, that might have been me.” I reach for his coat and brush at the mud. He turns, his anger pointed at me now. “I couldn’t sleep, and I … thought I heard Lago whining and so I took her out for a bit and I borrowed your coat. The wall I sat on must have been dirty.” Fenn’s brows dip and he glances at Gull.

  “I didn’t hear Lago,” he says quietly. He looks at me through narrowed eyes, obviously not believing a word I’ve told him. Will he tell Ruth and the elders his suspicions?

  “Maybe you’re a heavy sleeper…” I keep my tone bright and pick up the coat from the floor. “I’m sorry though, I’ll clean it.” And I hang his coat on the peg.

  “The pair of you.” He almost spits it. “I am watching you, Ink – and you, Gull. Freaks.” And he storms out, taking his coat with him.

  When we hear the door slam, Gull sighs and gives me a tentative smile.

  “Tea?” she asks.

  Tea is all we have this morning and there is so little to do that Solomon tells us we can relax today. After last night I am ready to go back to bed, to sleep and to work through my thoughts. But Gull has other plans and she whispers conspiratorially, “Come with me.”

  “Where?” I ask, and she gives me a brief smile.

  “You’ll see.”

  I’m exhausted but I recognize that she is trying to be friendly, and that’s too precious to pass up right now. I follow her into the forest – a different route to the one I took last night, but it has the same smell – the fragrance of growing buds and rotting leaves brewed in the same pot. I think I see a flash of white in the trees, and I think of the bird that brought me here, and the one that scared me last night – but then it’s gone.

  “You mustn’t come here alone. Only with me. It’s not safe.” Gull’s voice is low. She turns to me and grins. “Come on, I’ll look after you.” We walk to the trees. As we go, Gull spots a white stone on the ground and picks it up, putting it in the pouch at her waist, and I hear it clink against the other stones. As we enter deeper into the gloom of the forest, Gull eases her shoulders back and seems to grow. She bends and unties her shoes, taking them off and tying the laces together so she can hang them around her neck.

  “Your feet are going to be bloody freezing.” I smirk.

  “So are yours, then.” She smiles – a mischievous glint showing in her eyes. “Take your boots off. If we’re going to sneak away and still be safe, you need to learn how to walk through the forest and not be heard. If that bird hadn’t given you away on that first night, I would have still heard you – you were crashing around like a woodcutter.”

  I open my mouth to start to defend myself, but instead I just laugh. I feel like a different human from the one who burst into the fireside that night. I snort, remembering my ungainly entrance. “I must have looked like a wild thing.”

  “You still do, with all that ink.” I look sharply at Gull and see that she’s giggling. Her laugh is almost completely silent – but interspersed with gulps and sighs and squeaks. It is the funniest laugh I’ve ever heard and I can only laugh too; the relief at finally having a reason to laugh seems to make everything funnier, and soon I’m holding my aching stomach. The release of laughter is so intense – I don’t know how I lived without it. I feel like I’m breathing for the first time since I got here.

  “You’re all right,” Gull manages to gasp, eventually. “You know, for a savage.” Something has changed between us, I can feel it.

  “You watch out, blank!” I snigger. “If you weren’t so tall, I’d have taken you down by now.” Gull only laughs again, which sets me off. Silently she tugs at my sleeve, and still squeaking her stifled giggles, she pulls me to follow her.

  We emerge in a clearing, where the sky is open and bright again. I wrap my shawl around myself more tightly and Gull put
s her hood up. We are at a lake.

  At the far shore, I can see some gentle ripples, but where we have stopped there is nothing but glassy, torpid stillness. The water looks clean and clear at the shore where we stand but soon gives way to blackness. It must be deep, and the thought of that still water going down and down into the darkness makes my bones shudder.

  This is the lake in my dream.

  “This is Jackdaw Lake.” Gull turns towards me a little, as if gauging my reaction. I try to smile and look impressed. But truly, I want to run. There’s something about the water. I want to step towards it, as though drawn there by an invisible tide.

  “Are you scared of water?” Gull asks. “Is it a marked thing – are you all like this about open water?”

  I shake my head and try to smile, but I can’t. It’s like this lake is made of nothing but tears. I can feel the sadness coming off it, like a steady pulse.

  “It’s not the open water. It’s just this lake feels … a bit scary,” I say hesitantly. “Sad.”

  “It’s not scary or sad!” Gull is aghast. “Oh no! Don’t say that. It’s beautiful. It’s the lake where Belia was freed from her curse – you remember the story. It’s where we come to receive absolution. You’ll see on Fenn’s birth day – it’s all about peace and hope.” I notice that she’s not letting the lapping water anywhere near her toes.

  I can’t think of what to say, so I reach down and pick up one of the flat, white stones. I am pulling back my arm ready to swing and skim it across the still water, but Gull catches my hand, a look of horrified fear in her eyes. “Don’t!” she cries. “You mustn’t.” She holds my wrist and shakes it sharply until I loosen my grip on the stone and it clacks on to the ground.

  “Maybe I brought you here too soon.” She breathes deeply, as though she’s just stopped a terrible accident. Her eyes look around the ground until she sees the stone I dropped. She reaches down for it and slips it into her leather pouch and murmurs, but not quite to me: “Sorry. My fault. All my fault.”

  We walk slowly away from the lake towards the wood. I want to say sorry and I want to ask what I did and I want to tell her it’s OK, but I don’t know what just happened.

  I walk a few paces behind Gull, both of us silent, our cheerful mood all dispersed. I watch the way she walks, managing to place her bare feet firmly and gracefully, never making a sound or breaking a twig. She’s not having to concentrate on her feet or make an effort like I am. It’s just perfect, instinctive. She’s looking up at the trees and glimpses of sky.

  We’re further into the forest now. It’s unnervingly the same wherever I look, and I wonder how Gull can find her way.

  She stops, letting me catch up, her eyes still up in the crowns of the trees. She glances at me as I reach her side and says, “Can you climb?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Something has happened to trees since I last climbed them. I used to be able to scramble up and down without a care, but this time I’m aware of the bark making my hands dry and sore. I never used to think about falling then.

  Gull is calling out suggestions – she’s been sitting comfortably on a branch for a while now. I can hear her trying not to laugh as she asks, “You’re sure you want to keep on?” But I don’t have enough breath to answer. I keep climbing, bough by bough, until I’m level with Gull’s toes, which seem to be clinging on, ape-like. One final push and I’m up with her and she’s gesturing to a wide branch.

  “Saved the best seat for you.” She grins at me.

  I shake my head. “I can’t believe you made me do that,” I say breathlessly as I ease myself on to the bough. “You do realize I’m going to have to live here now – there’s no way I’ll make it down again.”

  Gull only raises her eyebrows and smirks a little. She’s looking at my red-raw hands and she reaches out to hold them in hers. Whether it’s just the relief of being accepted enough to be touched so kindly or whether it’s some blank magic that Gull knows, I don’t have a clue. I only know that the burning soreness eases and tears come to my eyes.

  If she knew what I had done last night, she would push me away and let me fall. And I would deserve it.

  “Thank you,” I manage, gulping, feeling shame heat my cheeks. I take my hands from hers and hold tightly to the branch I am sitting on, trusting that she can’t read my thoughts.

  “So, this is where you hang out?” I try to make my voice sound light and easy.

  “I’m not a monkey.” Gull smiles. “But, yeah, it’s the best place. Strictly speaking, the forest is out of bounds – don’t tell anyone we’ve come.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s too dangerous. The marked won’t come into Featherstone; we’re well hidden. Besides, if Longsight’s men crossed the river, that would be a declaration of war – they know the rules. But a few years ago, some kids went missing in the woods, and the rumour was that the marked took them.” She turns her face up to the branches. “I don’t feel like anyone can find me here though.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me – I have no idea where we are.” I laugh and Gull smiles. She looks around dreamily.

  “When we’re eighteen we get to choose our life-tree. It’s the tree we’re buried under when we die. And this will be mine. You need to promise you won’t tell anyone about this place, OK?” She looks stern. “I’m not meant to have chosen yet.”

  I snort. “Even if anyone in town was speaking to me, I wouldn’t. Why do you have to choose a tree, though?”

  “It’s our way of giving back to the forest, to nature. The earth gives us so much, and when we die our bodies can give back some of that life and energy.” I nod slowly, taking all this new stuff in. I want to point out that the earth hasn’t been giving them anything much recently, but I don’t want her to push me off this branch. “Anyway, you’ll soon get your bearings,” Gull says. “If you stay long enough.”

  “That’s still down to the community and the elders,” I tell her.

  Gull is quiet for a while. I can tell there’s something she wants to say.

  “Do you know Obel well, then?” Gull says eventually.

  I smile at the memory of Obel’s surly kindness and wonder what he was like when he was Gull’s age. “He’s training me to be an inker. Well, he was,” I correct myself. “Maybe my career is over. There doesn’t seem to be much demand for marks round here.” I smile at my own joke but Gull is looking serious.

  “He might still be here if there was,” she whispers.

  I didn’t speak to Obel much about why he left Featherstone. Sure, he told me about wanting to be an inker, but what motivates someone to leave their family – to break away from everything their loved ones value? And then I realize I’ve done exactly that.

  “He’s a really good man,” I offer. That much I do know.

  I close my eyes and picture him. His cropped hair – showing the merest hint of curl now that it is longer – his beautiful, unreadable tattoos. I see him pacing around the studio in his grey uniform, his forearms flexing as he holds the machine and eases the skin gently with his left hand. He couldn’t keep a low profile if he tried. I miss him.

  “He didn’t talk much about home,” I tell her. “But when he did, his voice would go quiet and his face would look all dreamy. I’m sure he misses you.”

  “He never told you about his family, though,” she retorts. “And he never tries to send messages. I think he’s forgotten us. Not that he ever knew me – Fenn remembers him.”

  I think of my home, and the smell of baking and coffee. I think of Mum’s hot chocolate. Her strong hands stroking my hair. A lump fills my throat. “Sometimes I think it just hurts less not to remember.”

  We drift into thoughtful silence and watch the leaves flicker in the breeze.

  “You know what’s strange?” Gull says slowly. “I’ve known you a couple of weeks – less than that, even – and I’ve already brought you to my secret hiding place and talked to you more about Obel than I have in all the years he’s
been gone. You had better not be a spy.” She laughs at the idea.

  “I would be the most useless spy!” I hope she can’t see my face redden. “I can’t even lie – all my secrets are here.” I show her my arms and feel such relief that there are some things I can keep hidden. I had no choice, I tell myself.

  “I don’t know what half your marks mean. Do they all mean something?”

  “Pretty much. I’ll explain them all to you one day.” I raise my foot and point my toes. “But this one – this is one I got at the same time as my … as my best friend.”

  Gull stares, fascinated, at the little egg. Slowly, she stretches out a finger to touch it, then pulls it back abruptly as though the ink could infect her.

  “I’m sorry you’ve ended up having to be with me.” She doesn’t make eye contact. “Fenn’s right – I’m the freak. I think they let me be your guide out of sympathy.” She laughs wryly. “You know it’s bad when your parents are happy for you to spend time with a marked traitor just so you have a friend.”

  “I’d have chosen you out of everyone. You’re not a freak– well, no more than I am.”

  Gull’s eyebrows rise, and she giggles. “There’s no hope for either of us.” And before I can reach out to stop her, she’s thrown herself backwards from the branch. I yelp, sure she’ll fall, but she’s hanging upside down, legs hooked over the branch where she had been sitting, swinging with her arms outstretched.

  “Gull! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” My heart is racing and I want to shout, but her laugh is hard to resist. She curls up and pulls herself back to sit on the branch, grinning so brightly that all I can do is shake my head.

  “Freak,” I say, smirking.

  “Why thank you,” Gull says, and we crack up laughing again.

  “But why though?” I say after a companionable silence. “Why aren’t the others your friends?”