Flicker and Mist

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Flicker and Mist Page 9

by Mary G. Thompson


  “I’m sorry, Hoof,” I said as I brushed her wide back. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

  She snorted, eyeing me as if she wasn’t buying the apology.

  “I was tied up,” I said. “Cuffed, actually. But we’ve both been kept indoors for too long. Let’s make it a good practice. The kind that will intimidate the whole field. There will be even more spectators today. Maybe they’ll be waiting for my mother’s daughter to fall.”

  Hoof spat the last of the hay out of her mouth. Of course she couldn’t understand the words I was saying, nor the reasons why I now needed to perform well more than ever. But she had been with me since she was born and I was a child—​hence the simple name that had stuck despite my mother’s protestations—​and she knew when I was upset. She always did what she could to help me, and I her.

  “You’re ready to go, too; I can see that,” I said. I pushed open the gate to her stall and led her out. There were many others in the stable, mostly trainers and stable boys bustling about in preparation for the last training day. Most of the beasts were still in their stalls, because many of the riders would rest in the morning and train only lightly in the afternoon. They subscribed to my father’s theory about saving themselves for competition. I, however, believed that one could not ride too much, and I had been out of the arena for two days. I had to get back in the swing of things or I would stumble tomorrow.

  Funny how everyone was going about as if nothing had happened, as if there were not three Flickerkin in the jail at this very moment, as if all the Lefties in the city were not being tortured by the Deputy simply to stop a panic. As I led Hoof down the passage between the stalls, I glimpsed a flyer hanging on a notice board. It was a picture of Nolan, the same one that had been circulating since his disappearance. It had been taken at last year’s Games. He was holding his ribbon above his head in a pose of triumph, but the look on his face was only half a smile. Perhaps that was because he thought he’d been cheated out of first place—​a rumor I now believed more than ever. Someone had scrawled the word Leftie across his face.

  Before I had formed the intention to do it, I reached up and tore the picture down from the board.

  “What are you doing?” Porti said from behind me.

  I whipped around. But I couldn’t conceal the picture balled in my fist. “Someone wrote Leftie on it. It has nothing to with him being a Leftie. He’s a Flickerkin.”

  She stared at me for a second. “I suppose the picture won’t help much, since no one can see him.”

  I opened my hand and let the picture fall to the ground. “I suppose not.”

  “I came to find you,” she said. “You wouldn’t answer my calls. I heard—”

  “It’s a lie,” I said.

  “Your mother—”

  “Unfairly accused,” I said. “She didn’t flicker. She doesn’t.”

  “Why do they think so?”

  “They say they saw a finger,” I said. “But it was a trick of the light. It’s a vendetta against all Lefties, just because of what we look like. Because we’re different.” I said it with strength, showing the anger I felt. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps she had actually passed, and we believed she flickered only because we knew about her. We ought to be fighting the test results. Perhaps my father was doing that with the Council now. But I doubted it. He was too honest. More honest than I. And I had just declared myself to be a Leftie, something I had never done out loud before. Something I did not believe. I wished to take back the words, but it was too late.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are they going to test you?”

  “They have,” I said.

  Hoof snorted and pawed the ground.

  “They have! Well, you obviously passed. But what was it like? What did they do?”

  “They shocked me until I passed out,” I said. “All to prove I’m the same person I was before.”

  “Shocked you! How—”

  “We must go,” I said, gripping Hoof’s collar. “She’s been cooped up, and I need the practice.” I didn’t mean to snap at Porti, but there was something about the slim silhouette of her riding clothes, her nearly black hair tied in a twist. Something unfair about the way she stood there, fresh and fully prepared for the Games, wondering what had been done to me.

  “Myra!”

  I turned around. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been hard.”

  “Of course.” She took a breath as if she was going to step toward me, but she didn’t.

  Tears welled up behind my eyes. But I couldn’t break down now, here in front of my competitors. “I have to ride.”

  She ran forward and threw her arms around me. “I can’t believe they did this to you,” she said. “You aren’t even a Leftie.”

  “I know,” I said. But I thought, What does she mean, not even a Leftie? Did she mean that I wasn’t poor like them, or that I wasn’t a sneaky, suspected spy? I pushed her gently away. “I really do have to ride.”

  “I too,” she said. “We will make it a good show—​prove we both deserve to be here—​the Council Member’s daughter and the poor orphan from the Head.” Leave it to Porti to find some way to make it seem as if we were in this together, even when her success depended upon my failure.

  “We both deserve it,” I said. I glanced at the crumpled paper next to my boot on the ground. Nolan, the workers’ son, also deserved to have his fair chance.

  “Do not let this defeat you, Myra,” she said, hugging me again. “You are still the same person. One of the best riders in the Upland. My best friend.”

  “Thank you,” I said. It was exactly what I needed to hear. Before the test, I had been poised to win, and after the test, I had the same skill. I would be strong.

  “Call me tonight,” she said. “We still must discuss our attire for the winners’ ball.” She flashed me a smile as she walked away. I recalled last year’s ball, when we had only just met, and I had been bitter over my loss. I had hardly spoken to her. This year, things would be different. I would aspire to be more generous, whether I won or not.

  She was my best friend—​the only friend who had spoken to me since my mother was arrested. Not that we had been answering our voicebox. My father didn’t want us to speak rashly. And where was Caster? Was he one of those rings we had left unanswered? But all my friends’ parents probably supported the testing. Their parents were on the Council or close to it. My friends probably heard day in and day out how dangerous Lefties were, and they now counted me among them.

  Just then I realized that the stepladder I relied on to climb onto Hoof’s back was missing. I looked around the edge of the arena and the wall of the stable, but it wasn’t there. I was the only one known to use it; could it be a coincidence that it was suddenly gone? Someone had to know where it was.

  “Excuse me,” I said to a stable boy passing by, but he didn’t stop. “Excuse me,” I said to a woman pulling a cart full of stones. But she didn’t stop either. “Anyone?” I called out to the four people passing by me, but all only glanced at me and kept walking.

  “Does the lady need assistance?” said a voice from the other side of Hoof. I looked around to see Caster smiling down at me from atop Monster. A part of me wanted to leap up to him, if I could have made it. But instead, my face began to burn. I didn’t want him to see that someone had stolen my ladder, but I had no other option than to accept his help.

  “My stepladder seems to be missing,” I said. “Would you mind giving me a boost?”

  Caster dismounted smoothly, not missing a beat. He pulled me into him and kissed me. “Ah, we need to train, don’t we?” he said with a laugh.

  “Sometime today,” I said. I let the smile happen. He didn’t hate me because of my mother. He wasn’t treating me differently. I could almost have given up on training and stayed right there with him all day. As I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him again, I was vaguely aware of the people around us; they stared. But that was all right.

  “I’d be honored to boos
t the lady,” Caster said, kneeling with an exaggerated flourish.

  I stepped into his clasped hands and vaulted onto Hoof’s back.

  He stood, and now that I was mounted, I looked down on him from above.

  “Thank you,” I said. For not hating me. But there would be time to say all that later, when we were in the winners’ circle together.

  “Anytime.” He grinned and gave a little bow, and in his eyes there was something else, something that seemed to be telling me I would get through this.

  I returned his gaze, trying not to betray all my emotions.

  “It’s a good thing the men and women don’t compete,” he said. “So I’m allowed to hope you win.”

  “A fair point,” I said. “You can count on me to cheer the loudest for you—​until our rematch, of course.” The thought of our coming competition made me smile a true smile. I gave Hoof a light nudge. “On, girl!”

  I wanted nothing more than to race out to the main course and do a full run, to blast the spectators with the fact that I was still here. Perhaps someone had stolen my ladder, but I didn’t need it; I had at least two friends. I would show everyone that I was the one to be feared tomorrow. But I held myself back. Hoof needed to warm up before going full speed, and so did I. I couldn’t afford for either of us to be injured. So I rode into the warm-up arena, which was a circular stadium behind the main complex. There were only a few places for spectators there, and only a few other riders. We took off at a slow trot.

  “That’s it, Hoofy,” I said. I tried to slow my anticipation, to let myself feel the connection with my beast. Her coarse head hair flattened in the breeze and her ears perked up as we made one pass around the arena, then another. One more pass and she was trotting steadily, no longer suffering from her confinement. “Are we ready, then?” I asked her, squeezing my knees together, giving her the signal that I was ready.

  Her heart beat faster and her ears flattened. That was a yes.

  “On, then!” I guided her out of the practice arena and to the entrance of the main complex. There was no one at the starting block except an official gatekeeper, whose job was to make sure only registered competitors trained in the arena. Since today was the last day of training, there were no official times; you were expected not to ride on top of others’ horns. I didn’t remember the gatekeeper’s name, since he was from far out in the Head and only came in every year for the Games. But I recognized him and waved a greeting.

  “Myra Hailfast,” I said. “Second seed.”

  He stared at me open-mouthed.

  “Don’t you remember me?” I asked. “I’m sure we met last year. Besides, I’m on the list of competitors.”

  Hoof snorted. She was becoming restless again. Once I signaled I was ready to start, it wasn’t good to wait. She might waste her strength and lose her focus.

  “Miss Hailfast . . .” He trailed off and fumbled with his paper.

  “The women’s course is clear, isn’t it?” I asked. I was required to wait until the gatekeeper gave me clearance, but I hadn’t seen anyone in the moat as I rode in. Surely I had plenty of space.

  He looked up. “Hasn’t anyone told you?”

  “Told me what, sir?” I asked, setting my hand on Hoof’s head to steady her.

  Her ears twitched.

  “That people of the Left Eye have been taken out of competition.” He looked frightened, as if I might jump off my beast. But I only sat there, trying to make sense of what he had just said.

  “I am not from the Left Eye,” I said. “I am a citizen of New Heart City. My father is Donray Hailfast, Member of the Council.” I paused. “My father is on the Council,” I said again, as if he hadn’t heard me.

  “You have been taken off the list,” said the gatekeeper. He held up the paper, though it was too far away for me to read. “The Council Adjunct came himself with the names to remove. Yours was among them, Miss.”

  Where was my father when this happened? Had he been outvoted, or had they snuck around him as they had when they took my mother for testing? I stared ahead at the course. If I were to ride it, the gatekeeper couldn’t stop me.

  As if reading my mind, he stepped in front of Hoof. “I’m sorry, Miss Hailfast. It’s not coming from me. I know you aren’t a Leftie.”

  “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” I said. “But still, you’re not letting me ride.”

  Hoofbeats pounded on the turf behind me, and I turned to see Caster riding in our direction. He pulled up next to me. “I just heard,” he said. His face was flushed, his eyes burning. I had never seen such a look on his face. “My father didn’t tell me. I swear it.”

  I could still see the course, and I could have made a break for it, escaped from the gatekeeper. But what good would that do? Tomorrow I would be sidelined. I couldn’t win.

  “I will talk to him,” Caster said. “This can’t happen.”

  I turned to him, tears falling. “I passed his test. Did he tell you? He gave me eight shocks with a smile.”

  His face fell, and I felt bad. It wasn’t he who had shocked me. It was only their faces that were alike.

  “Of course you passed,” he said.

  We sat there in silence while the gatekeeper twisted his paper in his hands. Finally, I turned Hoof around. She pawed the ground in confusion. Caster rode with me silently back to the stables. We received sidelong glances from the trainers and the competitors who were just arriving. I felt more conspicuous than usual.

  Everyone besides me must have known. Had Porti known but failed to tell me? No. I dismissed the thought. She would never have kept something like that from me. She would not want to win this way. Caster’s father must have purposefully hidden it from him.

  When we reached Hoof’s stall, Caster dismounted and held up his arms. I let him lift me off my beast and set me down on the soft turf. I always wanted his arms around me, but now that his hands held my waist, I could do nothing but cry. I put my hands over my eyes, as if I could somehow hide my humiliation.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It may not help, but I don’t agree with excluding Lefties. It hardly seems proportional, all this over four Flickerkin.”

  I should have denied that my mother was one, but I was in no shape to say anything. She wouldn’t have cried.

  He pulled me into his arms, and my face pressed against his chest.

  “Finding out about your mother, it must have been terrible,” he said.

  I took a breath, trying to get myself together.

  Caster reached down and wiped the tears from my cheek. “I told him you weren’t one of them. You couldn’t be.”

  “I know,” I said. “He told me.” The Deputy had stopped at eight shocks because Caster had intervened. Caster had saved me from being caught. I wished I could thank him for what he had really done for me.

  “Remember, your friends know you. We’re still here.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Myra!” My father was coming toward us.

  Caster pulled away from me. “Council Member—” he began.

  “Good day, Mr. Ripkin,” my father said. He looked from Caster to me. “I came as soon as I heard what they had done—​during a secret meeting. Apparently someone has told you.”

  I nodded, wiping the rest of my tears from my face.

  “It came from the Deputy,” my father said. “He considers all the test results preliminary—​for those who passed. He claims there’s a threat to the Games.” He took a long look at Caster. “It’s hard to see the advantage to a rider of not being seen.”

  “Poppa, it’s not Caster’s fault,” I said.

  “I know.” My father sighed. “Go on, Mr. Ripkin. Get your practice.”

  “Myra . . .” Caster put a hand on Monster’s back.

  “Go,” I said. “I’ll be all right.”

  “I’ll come see you,” he said.

  “After the Games,” I said. “After you win.”

  He nodded and jumped onto his beast. “G
ood day, Myra, Council Member Hailfast.” He rode off, back toward the main complex.

  “The Ripkin boy is too familiar,” said my father.

  “Poppa—” I was about to defend Caster, try to explain our compromising position as something other than what I was glad it was. I clung to that, knowing he still wanted to be with me. I wasn’t just a half-Leftie; he saw me as human.

  “Never mind that now,” my father said. “I’ve gotten leave for us to see your mother.”

  “You have?” I made sure Hoof was safely back inside her stall. She grunted and stared at me with wide, wet eyes. “I’m sorry, Hoofy. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Let’s get to the jail before the Deputy has a change of heart,” my father said. “This development with the Games is disturbing. There’s no possible justification for it.”

  “They can’t do anything to you, can they?” I asked as we walked. “You’re on the Council, and you’re one hundred percent Plat.”

  “I don’t know if any of that matters now,” he said. “I’ve harbored a Flickerkin.”

  Two Flickerkin, I thought. And he must have been thinking it, too, because he put a hand on my back, as if he could protect me. I wasn’t sure he could protect either of us.

  From THE BOOK OF THE WATERS

  In that land beyond the oceans, the Waters shall surround the people, never receding or destroying, but filled with love. And there the people shall live forever: those of the Plateau in their own land and those of the Left Eye in theirs. Each land will be bountiful, and none shall want.

  Eleven

  THE JAIL WAS AT THE EDGE OF THE STATE COMPLEX, on the opposite side from the arena, so it was a long, dusty walk in the summer heat. I should have been riding at full speed through the course, not walking at a snail’s pace through the abnormally crowded streets. It seemed that eyes followed us everywhere. I was used to being looked at; I was a most unusual sight. But I was also a familiar sight, and I had grown up here, so everyone knew me. Now the city was full of strangers from all over the Upland, and the news about the tests and the jailed Flickerkin had aroused their interest in me. It didn’t help that I was wearing riding clothes and not riding.

 

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