Spark

by Alice Broadway

  “You sound so serious,” I tell her.

  “It’s serious stuff, though, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, Gull. I don’t know what I believe any more.”

  She frowns. “But you’re collecting stones? You have a pouch?”

  I nod – on the outside I look like I’m as devout as Gull, walking round with this bag round my waist. But I’ve still only put that one stone into it: a concession for Ruth’s sake, I suppose. I don’t know how to explain. I can’t turn my back on everything I ever believed overnight.

  I look up and see Gull’s eyes on mine.

  “I don’t always know what I’m meant to collect stones for,” I try to explain. “I feel like I’m looking for things to feel guilty about, and I’m not a bad person, I don’t think.”

  “But you’re not perfect.” Gull’s voice is quiet.

  I laugh and try to joke. “How can you say that?”

  She frowns earnestly.

  “It matters, Leora. Please. You mustn’t treat this lightly. You must be pure.”

  “But at home, that’s what all this is about.” I gesture to my marks.

  “You’re home now. Home is here.”

  “I’m sorry.” I put down my needle and reach out to hold her hand. “This is hard for me too. I’ve believed for all of my life that you blanks are the sinners and that we are the righteous. I’ve been told every day that if I am like you I will forfeit my soul. But then I come here and you’ve got all the same stories. Only they’re not the same. And I don’t know who has got it right. And what if neither of us have?”

  And, of course, there’s no way to answer that. We each have a truth that is impossible to prove. Can both stories be true? Can my marks be beautiful and Longsight’s words ugly? Can I believe in some, but not all?

  Chapter Thirty

  “OK, I admit it.” Sana is digging in the garden as I fork compost into a wheelbarrow, and I wonder what I would be doing now if I was in Saintstone – not handling rotten vegetables, that’s for sure.

  “Admit what?” I ask her, and Sana grins.

  “I admit that I was jealous of your father when he came to Featherstone. From that first moment it was obvious that your mum had fallen in love – or probably at that point it was just lust. And in spite of all the ink, you could see why.”

  “Yeah, I don’t need to know that bit,” I tell her, and Sana laughs, her face creasing with her smile.

  “For all that they were deeply wrong, they were still the perfect couple, Leora. I had never believed in soulmates until those two.” She lifts her head and I see the tears in her eyes. Hurriedly, she wipes them away. She smiles, a little embarrassed, a little amused. “When I first saw you – I held you.” She stops, takes a shuddering breath. “When you were first born, I held you, and I whispered a promise that I would always protect you, that I would never leave you…” She drifts into silence.

  “But that it wasn’t safe for me to stay?” She looks at me in surprise. “Ruth told me that he – Justus – would have killed us both, and you helped Mum escape?”

  Her eyebrows shoot up, as if surprised I know this part. “Yes. I wanted to help – but I failed you both, and for that I will never forgive myself. I only hope that I can help you now, as penance. And that Miranda will somehow know that. For as long as you are with me, you will be safe, and maybe in a strange way she will be too.” She grips my hand.

  A rider, Helina, runs up to us, feet skidding on the gritty ground as she tries to stop.

  “Sana, come now. Quick!”

  Fear slaps me then – before I’ve even seen, before I’ve moved to follow Sana as she runs to the square. It is as if my soul knows something is terribly, desperately wrong.

  Lago’s teeth are bared and she is wolfish and snarling, a primal beast rather than a domestic dog. Other dogs bark and scrap, trying to release their owners’ hold. White teeth gleam like daggers and their throats resound with hunger for blood. They are all trained on the centre of the town square.

  Because there Fenn stands, his arm tight around a boy’s neck, his hand twisting an arm firmly. A boy with glasses bent and askew, skin purpled with bruises, blood over teeth making him look like a nightmare. He is the dream I know too well.

  “Oscar!” I scream, and run to him, ignoring Sana’s hand as she tries to hold me back. Fenn loosens his hold for a moment – shocked, perhaps, at my reaction – and Oscar falls to his knees. I am there just in time, and, as though sensing that her master has lost his grip, Lago’s teeth close on my shoulder as I cocoon and shield him.

  Oscar.

  I barely feel the pain or hear the screams as Lago is pulled off me by someone. I barely register the hands that try to drag me away. All I feel is him. Him against my chest. Him beneath my arms and under my cheek and between my fingers.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Somehow, we are back at the Whitworths’ house. I have a vague memory of Solomon swooping in and carrying us off. Oscar is lying on the sofa and I still can’t let him go. I don’t know where Fenn went, but he’s not here and neither is Lago.

  Gull brings freshly boiled water and clean linen scraps and I wash his wounds. Oscar is unconscious but breathing steadily. Tanya said it was shock and exhaustion and that I shouldn’t worry. I worry anyway.

  “What did he do to you?” I whisper like a prayer, as though my ancestors or nature or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in now might answer. And just then I think of Mum, and her tending to Dad’s head wound when I was small, that terrible injury that threatened to expose everything.

  I feel gentle hands on my wrists, and someone – Tanya – takes the linen from my shaking hands.

  “Let me, Leora. Please.” And she starts to clean his injuries more deftly than I ever could. I rock back on my heels and let Gull stroke my hair and bind the deep bite on my shoulder.

  Gull wakes me with tea and toast – I am in her bed again, like my first night here. She reaches out to pass me the mug but I slide out of bed and scramble in bare feet to the room where Oscar lay.

  He is gone, and I let out a low, animal moan.

  “Leora.”

  I know that voice, but I am afraid to turn towards it in case this is just a dream.

  “Leora,” he says again, and he’s closer this time, breath on my neck, heat from his body already making my arms turn to goosebumps. A tiny touch – his fingertips on mine – and I know he’s real. I twist and hug him and we both squeeze so tightly that we each cry out in pain. He holds me at arm’s length, so that I can look into those brown eyes, and he just shakes his head.

  “I can’t believe it. Leora.”

  Our reunion is brought to an end by Tanya tutting as she walks in. “You, go and have breakfast,” she says to me. “And you…” Her face is mock-stern. “I’ve not finished with your bandages; come back to the kitchen, please.”

  “Mum thinks your injuries are probably more severe than his,” Gull says, thrusting food at me once again. “But his just looked worse, you know, because of the blood?” She drinks from her own mug and frowns. “I still can’t believe Lago. She has never done anything like that.”

  I smile weakly, trying not to remember the fear I felt. “She was protecting Fenn.” I touch my shoulder gingerly. “She was very good at it,” I say as I wince. A realization runs through me then. “You missed the fireside last night?”

  Gull nods. “Yes. Mum and Dad did too. But don’t worry – I think Kasia did a good job of explaining things – as far as any of us understand what happened yesterday.”

  “How do you know all this?” I ask, feeling tired and confused and horribly sore.

  “Fenn came back after the fireside.” I flinch at this, feeling a kind of larva of hate bubble within me, but Gull holds up a hand. “He said he didn’t hurt your friend, apart from holding him down to stop him running off. Someone else did that. Fenn said he just found him, dazed and wandering on the boundary of the forest.”

  I say nothing but I raise
an eyebrow.

  “I believe him,” Gull says stoutly. “And anyway, we’ll be able to talk to … what’s his name again?”

  “Oscar.”

  “Oscar, soon enough.” She looks at me appraisingly. “Now, Verity I knew about, but why didn’t you ever mention Oscar?”

  “I…”

  “No, don’t worry.” Gull grins. And she giggles her marvellous, squeaking laugh. “I have to go to work. You finish your toast, OK?”

  “He’s the one who poisoned the well. He is a murderer and must pay the price.” An older man speaks out, to much nodding and calls of hear, hear.

  The fireside that night is tense before we arrive, flanked by Tanya and Solomon. I know that they will not be easy on any of us; they could turn at any moment. And yet I am so simply happy that Oscar is here that I cannot worry too much. I steal a glance at his battered face and my heart surges in my chest again.

  “My children are starting to ask about getting marks. Tolerating one of Saintstone’s exiles is one thing, but this is unprecedented. Do the elders not care about purity?” It’s the woman who is in charge of the food stall. Her children look small and nervous in her shadow.

  “If one marked can reach us, then so can a second. Isn’t it obvious? Our two marked spies should be returned to where they came from, with a message that Longsight can’t ignore,” Justus calls out, and I spot Fenn behind him – face unreadable.

  Eventually, after accusation and hate have been pounded, nail by nail, into Oscar and me, Sana calls for order.

  “You know…” Her voice is low – thoughtful. “This is what I’ve been longing to see from you.” Her gaze skims the crowd. “Anger.” Her words pulse with ferocious heat. “At last, you are angry. At last, you are ready not just to whine and complain but to fight. Only – you do not wish to fight the true enemy. Instead you clamour for the blood of a boy, without reason or sense. Where are your minds, friends? Where is your vision and wisdom? Honesty – remember that word? Truth and openness are what define us. Let us get to the truth of this matter, or we are no better than the marked themselves. If Ruth were alive to see you like this it would kill her all over again.”

  I see those who spoke shuffle with discomfort.

  “So, let’s hear it, shall we?” Sana calls. “You—” She gestures to Oscar, and he steps towards her. “Come and tell us the truth. If you lie, I will not be responsible for their actions.”

  Oscar looks around the crowd, his first time seeing the whole community together. He bites his lip and breathes deeply before addressing them all. And his words, softly spoken as they are, go off like a bomb.

  “I came because of Obel.” I see Solomon and Tanya stiffen, become more alert. “We are friends. I am one of the … crows, you call them. Things have been very bad in Saintstone. The night I set out, he was arrested.”

  This is payback, I realize. I missed my meeting with the contact. Longsight said he would punish me by hurting those I love, and he has acted as swiftly and ruthlessly as I knew he would.

  Oscar goes on. “For all his time amongst the marked, Obel has remained blank. No one except me and Leora knows his marks are faked.” His voice does not shake, and I marvel at his composure. “There is talk that he is going to be publicly marked. He gave me instructions to find this place in case anything happened. I never imagined I would need to use them. I saw them take him; he asked me to say goodbye.”

  Solomon’s bellow of grief is almost enough to drown out my cry of horror. And, as though underwater, I watch the ripple of Oscar’s words reach every member of the fireside.

  Goodbye, I think, and it settles into sense. By not taking on real marks, Obel had always left the door to Featherstone open a crack. If they mark him, he will see himself as cut off for ever.

  “He left us,” Justus cries. “He washed his hands of us and we owe him not one thing.” There is a smattering of applause.

  I can’t bear this. I catch at Sana’s arm and whisper:

  “Do something. Please. They will listen to you.”

  She shakes her head. “This is how we decide, Leora. Not one voice, but many. I cannot force them to do anything.”

  “You don’t understand!” I hiss desperately. “This is all my fault.”

  Sana frowns then, and draws me aside. The commotion is enough that we go unnoticed down the hill towards the barn.

  “What do you mean? How can this be your fault?”

  I take a look over my shoulder and make certain that no one else can hear.

  “I was sent here by Longsight,” I confess. “Longsight sent me here to spy – I was to meet with his contact and tell them what I could. He said if I didn’t, then he would hurt my friends and family. And I did as he asked – once. That’s how they knew about the hospital.”

  Sana is shaking her head, her eyes wide.

  “Please – I know it’s the worst possible betrayal. But I’ve refused to help him any more – I never went to the second meeting. That’s why this has happened. Longsight is punishing Obel to get at me; to make me fall back into line. This is all on me.”

  A friend with the knack of bringing people round to her way of thinking might have been the best gift my mother could have left me. Sana didn’t have to say a word for me to understand the look of sadness and betrayal in her eyes, but she stood by me anyway.

  Don’t tell the others, she said. Not yet.

  The community don’t know about my betrayal; they think we are going on a rescue mission out of compassion. But I know that this is penance; I must fix this. First thing in the morning we will set out: Sana and two of her carefully chosen riders, me and Oscar. We’ll save Obel. We have to.

  Oscar and I meet Sana by the fire as we agreed. It is so early the dawn has not yet broken. She is dressed in her rider’s gear: soft leather and cotton in the earthy colours that must hide her well in the forest. She’s on horseback and has a horse for both Oscar and me. The riders with her help Oscar and me on to the horses, assuring us that all we have to do is stay sitting in the saddle – the horses will follow Sana’s lead. When the other riders – the burly man called Rory, and Helina – are sure that we are all set, they mount their horses and we leave. No one waves us off.

  Tanya and Solomon said goodbye, of course, and Tanya gave me a message for Obel.

  “Tell him he is loved,” she begged as she pressed it into my hand. “And that he can always return. Always.” They wished us luck on our journey, and I slipped the studio key that Obel gave me into my pocket and tucked my father’s pendant under my shirt, and then I left.

  We ride in silence till we are well clear of Featherstone. The woods are different from this vantage point – dizzyingly mysterious – but Sana knows them intimately, you can tell. We pass through them like air. She instructs me as we ride, pointing out every secret sign: a fallen tree, an almost invisible brown shoe hanging in the boughs of a tree, a cluster of stones. At night we build a makeshift camp. My shoulder aches where Lago bit me.

  I wait until the hasty dinner is eaten and we’re sitting round the fire before saying my piece, which I’ve been mulling over since we left.

  “When we get to Saintstone, I’m going alone.” They look at me, startled.

  “Leora—” Sana begins, but I hold up my hand.

  “It’s me that Longsight wants. Arresting Obel is his message to me. He wants me to step back in line. I’ll go into Saintstone alone, I will meet with the Mayor and I will face the consequences of my actions. If he thinks I have brought blanks with me, he will show no mercy.”

  I hear Oscar sigh; I wonder if this is what he expected. His bruises aren’t so visible in the woods and his face is half in shadow.

  There is a pause after I speak and then Sana nods. Her expression in the firelight is rueful as she looks at me. “We will respect your wishes, Leora. And I admire your bravery. But if we hear nothing from you, we will come for you.” It’s a fair deal, but I daren’t say what I truly fear, which is that none of them will hear f
rom me again.

  As the fire begins to turn to embers, the others go to their beds but Sana draws me close and, sleepily, I rest my head on her shoulder as she talks.

  “My dad was a rider, and when I was a child our envoy from Featherstone would meet the crows halfway – not far from here. It was safer for us.” The dying fire cracks, and it feels like I’m dreaming. “It was different then; less fraught, less fear. It would be almost like a party in the forest and Dad would bring me with him – I knew I wanted to be a rider from the moment I sat on a horse. They would sometimes spend days in the forest, drinking and feasting, telling tales around the fire. There was a boy – the son of one of the crows – who was a few years younger than me and we would sneak away when we got bored of the adults’ chat. I liked him, for all that he was marked. We would talk about our lives and our families and share stories.”

  “What happened to him? Why don’t you still meet partway?”

  “His father was killed on one of their trips. It was blamed on the blanks…” I nod my head which rests against her shoulder. “After that, things were never the same – they helped us, still, but I don’t think they trusted us again. And the boy? Well, he left the crows and that was that. He just left me with memories and stories.”

  I drift into an uneasy sleep, thinking about all that Sana has shared, and am roused what feels like seconds later. The riders go to fill our water bottles, leaving Oscar and me alone, for the first time since he arrived.

  “You can’t go on your own,” he says urgently, without preamble. “I’m not waiting in the woods while you walk into the wolves’ den.” His face is worried. I wish I could reach out and touch him, tell him it will be all right. But I have to tell the truth.