Flicker and Mist

by Mary G. Thompson

  I kept my head down, relying on my father to pay attention. He guided me with a strong hand on my back until we had passed out of the crowds and approached the jail. I had never been inside it before, obviously. Why would I have needed to go near a place that housed vandals and thieves? I couldn’t even have said exactly which building the jail was in. My father led me to a nondescript door that stood out only because of the two solemn guardsmen stationed in front of it.

  “Good day, Member Hailfast,” said one of the guardsmen before my father could even open his mouth. The man opened the door and held out an arm, signaling for us to pass. We walked past a desk manned by another guardsman, and that made the highest concentration of the Guard I had ever seen in New Heart City. The man at the desk nodded to us politely, but my father didn’t acknowledge him.

  “To the left,” the man behind us said. We turned the corner, and I saw my mother.

  She was in a cell behind bars that crisscrossed each other. The space was not as bad as I had expected. She had a large bed with blankets taken from our apartment, an upholstered chair, and a side table on which lay a stack of books and a cup of tea. Still, she was behind bars. Her face was pale, without makeup. I had never before seen her face bare in public.

  As we approached, she set down the book in her hands and stood up from the chair, a blank look on her face. Her wrists were cuffed with prezine but not bound together. The delicate cuffs might have been bracelets, but they kept her from flickering—​as if flickering would help her now.

  Sensors were located high up on either side of the cell. If I took another step forward, I would be caught in their invisible beams. I knew they could only affect me if I were invisible, which of course I wasn’t, and yet every fiber in me wished to avoid them.

  “Come forward,” my mother said, reading my mind. Her blond curls were held back by a ribbon, but the tie was imperfect. Strands flew unkempt around her face.

  I took a step, willing myself not to flinch beneath the sensors.

  She reached a hand through the bars and took mine. “You have been crying.” She didn’t say it with a mother’s sympathy, but as an accusation. I wasn’t strong enough.

  “They have prevented her from riding,” my father said.

  “I endured the test,” I said. “I may have cried, but I endured it.” My face was becoming flushed again. Leave it to my mother to make my emotions stronger while she admonished me to contain them.

  “They fear invisible riders?” said my mother. “What will they fear next? I suppose if one sleeps invisibly, it might scare the mice.”

  I passed the test while you couldn’t, I thought. I was stronger than you were. Why was she not relieved? But then, I told myself, she couldn’t show her relief in front of the guardsmen.

  “Have they treated you badly?” my father asked.

  My mother waved her free hand at her cell. “A bed, a chair, and a table. Books. Food from the Council’s kitchen. They escort me to a private bath. A very civilized prison.”

  “How are they treating Nolan’s parents?” I asked.

  “I know nothing of them,” she said. “I suppose it’s too risky to let us see one another, since there’s an alleged conspiracy to overthrow the Council. We’re being directed by some unknown evil force in the Left Eye.” She was staring straight at the guardsman behind us. “Perhaps we’re even being directed from across the oceans. We’re an advance party of Flickerkin stooges preparing the land for nonhuman marauders.”

  “There is no such charge against you, Mrs. Hailfast,” the man said.

  “If there is no charge, then why am I being held?” she asked.

  The guardsman shrugged. “I have my orders.”

  I had not articulated even to myself why the Deputy was doing this, but of course my mother, in her sarcasm, was exactly right. How else could they justify what they were doing? Someone must be spreading tales of just such a conspiracy. All because of a few strange happenings. Had nothing else strange happened during all these years of peace?

  “I have spoken with the Council,” my father said. “The rest of the Council, that is. They say they haven’t taken any vote on when you will be tried or what penalty they will seek.”

  “Well,” she said. She bit her lip as if she had more to say. But she was too wise to rant against the Council in front of a guardsman.

  “Rhondalynn,” my father said, taking her other hand, “we will get you out of here, and this will pass.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking up at him. She was only barely taller than I was, so she had to look far up. My father gazed down at her.

  “I love you,” he said.

  Her mouth broke into the slightest smile. Perhaps there was even a bit of moisture behind her eyes. “And I you.” They looked at each other for a long second, and though I was still holding on to one of her hands, it was as if I had disappeared and the two of them were alone in the jail, or in the world.

  Then my mother turned to me, and the spell broke. “You must hold your head high,” she told me. “Attend the Games. Sit in the Council box. Be seen.”

  “Momma, I can’t watch it!” I hadn’t had time to imagine what I would do if I couldn’t ride. I hadn’t watched the women’s portion of the ride for three years.

  “You can and you will,” she said. “Show them that you are a citizen of the Upland. Be visible.”

  “Momma, you don’t understand! How can I—”

  “I understand perfectly,” she said. “You are better than the rest, and you will show it by cheering on your rivals. Root for your friend Miss Vale.”

  “I suppose I should wear a smile,” I said, letting go of her hand.

  “I will be there,” said my father. “We’ll face it together.”

  “Think of something that makes you happy,” said my mother, with a little bit of softness. “They will not know what it is.”

  Caster suddenly jumped into my mind, the feel of his hands on my waist as he lifted me off Hoof. I nearly smiled right there, but held it back. I shouldn’t be smiling about anything, today or tomorrow. But maybe with my mother’s advice, I could get through it. I didn’t want to be the weak girl who cried. I wanted them to see that we could not be beaten.

  “All right,” I said.

  “Good girl,” my mother said.

  “We must go, Member Hailfast,” the guardsman said.

  My father glared at him, then turned back to my mother. “We’ll come again,” he said. “Remember, we are doing everything we can and we love you.”

  “I know,” she said. And they were in their own world again, smiling.

  “Come,” said the guardsman.

  My parents’ hands separated, my mother gave me a tiny sad smile, and we were walking away from her, back down the hall, past the desk, and out into the dusty street. I was sorry to have to leave her, but I was glad not to be under the sensors or staring at those bars. If not for Caster, it could have been me inside that cell. I gasped, trying not to burst into tears.

  “We will get her out,” my father said, putting his arm around me.

  I nodded but said nothing. We walked back to our apartment in silence, because although we had vowed to help her, we did not know how.

  From THE BOOK OF THE WATERS

  And from the Plateau People the Waters created the people of the Left Eye, and these people were also right. For the Waters create only with reason.

  Twelve

  MY FATHER WENT TO THE DEPUTY’S APARTMENT THAT NIGHT, but the guardsmen turned him away at the door. He came back to our apartment stone-faced, holding a paper.

  “They have voted me suspended,” my father said. “I am to face charges of harboring and false swearing.”

  “You have sworn nothing false,” I said. “When Momma entered the city, you didn’t know. That’s the truth.” It was late, but I had no thought of sleeping. I was thinking about Hoof, and about Caster, and about the sensors that had borne down on me, and about my mother’s face as she told me I
must sit in the Council box. I could barely process what my father was saying, but I knew that if the Council were to convict him, he would be removed. Our hereditary claim to Membership would be eliminated, and that was the least of it.

  “Yes,” he said. He stared out the window. Below our apartment was the wall separating those of us in the State Complex from the ordinary citizens. And beyond that, dark except for a dim street lamp, was a street still packed with visitors. “But I knew for a long time.”

  “What if she had told you from the beginning?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Before you love someone, you can more easily believe the worst of them. Once I loved her, I could not.” He put an arm around me, and we both looked out the window. Would we soon be on the outside, looking in? Or so far from here that the world would look completely different?

  “What will we do?” I asked.

  “I will make my case,” my father said. “I will say that I knew nothing until the test was complete.”

  “A lie, Poppa?” I tried to laugh, to make light of the fact that my father was always so honest—​except for this one thing.

  “They may call you in to speak for me,” he said.

  “I can do that.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “I know you can, Myra. You have your mother’s strength, whether you know it or not. Tomorrow, we will go to the Games and sit in the Council box as your mother wishes. Until my case is heard, I am still a Member. And we are citizens of New Heart City.” We. It was no longer only my mother and I who were in danger. We had dragged him into it. “But we also must have a plan,” he said. “I will contact your grandmother and make preparations for you to travel to the Eye. I will follow with your mother when I can.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I said. I had never met my grandmother in the Eye; she was nothing to me. And I thought of Porti, of Caster, of school, of the whole world I knew. Of my mother’s strength. Of being seen. Of not giving up.

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” said my father. “But I will make a call in the morning. They will meet us on the road if need be.”

  “Who is ‘they’?” I asked.

  “Your grandmother and her relatives,” he said. “Perhaps it’s time you met them anyway, learned more than a few words of the language.”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “It may not be our choice,” said my father. He sighed. “Your mother and I hoped to shield you from all this. We hoped the peace would last, and we would be a symbol for what the future could be. We hoped there would be many children like you.”

  “They must stop putting Lefties in jail,” I said. “There aren’t any spies.”

  “No, there aren’t,” my father said. “But the situation in the Eye is worsening. There is talk of another strike, much like the one that started the war. The miner caught with a dagger has been sentenced to Judgment.”

  “When? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I shouldn’t have raised my voice to my father, but I couldn’t believe it. How could my world be tearing apart?

  “I wanted to protect you,” he said. “I wanted you to grow up with no worries or fears.” He turned away from me. “But the plateau is too small for that.”

  “I must sleep. I must be fresh to play my part tomorrow,” I said, and I rushed into my bedroom and slammed the door. Of course I wouldn’t sleep. I lay awake trying to imagine the Left Eye, this mystical place high up off the ground, with thin rains and pale people, where they spoke a language I barely knew. I couldn’t go there. It would be too strange.

  The women’s contest came first by tradition. This was because it wasn’t considered as important as the men’s. This unfair situation normally irked me, since I was convinced that I could beat any of them if given the chance, but today I hoped it would work to my advantage, as there would be fewer people in the Council box. I wouldn’t have to fake my smile in front of so many.

  The gatekeeper at the entrance to the restricted Council area stared at us as we approached.

  “Member Hailfast,” he said.

  “My daughter and I are here for the riding,” my father said.

  The two stared at each other for a moment.

  “Are we not on the approved list?” he asked.

  “Yes,” the gatekeeper stammered. “Of course you are, Member.”

  “Of course,” said my father. “Good day.” We brushed past the man and faced the surprised looks of the three Members of the Council who were already in the box.

  “Donray!” said Member Solis. She was wearing the fashionable swooshing skirt with a garish bright purple bodice. A spectator’s outfit, I thought meanly, before remembering that I also was wearing a skirt. A humiliating turn of events. I looked at the ground.

  “Hello, Anga,” said my father.

  The other two Council Members, Orphos’s father and Gregor’s father, glanced at each other. Orphos’s mother looked away.

  “Please, join us,” said Orphos’s father. He moved aside to make room for us between himself and Member Solis.

  Gregor came in from the other entrance with Porti’s foster sister, Bricca. They stopped short when they saw me. Bricca glanced at her mother, who gave her a little nod. Only then did Bricca come forward, slowly, to greet me. Her normally exuberant smile was missing, replaced by caution and a failure to meet my eyes.

  Gregor gave me a tight smile and looked away.

  “Good day, Miss Hailfast,” Bricca said. And with that, she and Gregor sat in the seats Orphos’s father had just offered us. I didn’t care about seats, but I couldn’t believe the change in Bricca. She was afraid of me. Anga Solis must have said terrible things about me to her little girl. It was as if Bricca and her mother had dropped a bucket of ice over my head. I hadn’t changed or done anything to deserve this. It wasn’t right.

  I didn’t look at Anga Solis, or at Bricca, or at my father. I saw my mother’s face, heard her voice admonishing me to be seen. But it was too much. I turned and raced out of the Council box. I ran past the surprised gatekeeper and out into the throng of people. My skirt slapped against my ankles. I was unused to walking here without my riding boots, and my ladies’ boots skidded across the turf. I nearly slipped and fell into a man carrying a tray of drinks.

  “Hey!” he said. And then, under his breath, “Leftie.”

  It seemed that all eyes followed me as I ran, without thinking, toward the stables. Most people here wouldn’t know me, since many had traveled here for the Games. They saw only my short stature, my strange coloring, my bosom that I couldn’t hide beneath my modest blouse. I pulled at the buttons around my neck as I ran. Now my collar choked me. If I went to the Eye, I thought, at least I would be able to wear pants. No one would find my body worth staring at.

  I skidded into the stables, past the stalls where the men’s beasts stomped impatiently, past the empty stalls the women’s beasts had just left. The riders would be in the practice arena now, doing their final warm-up.

  Hoof stomped and growled at me when I reached her.

  “Hoof, it’s terrible,” I said. I joined her in the stall and closed the door behind me, wrapping my arms around her body. She was too big for me to get my arms all the way around, but I laid my face against her side, let her coarse hair brush against my cheek. I confided in her about all my troubles. “Little Bricca is a different person today, as if she barely knows me. Momma is in jail for nothing. Poppa has been suspended from the Council. I’m only cleared preliminarily, even though I passed the test. We might have to leave New Heart City. Momma will be so angry at me for leaving the box.”

  Hoof snorted.

  “And I can’t ride,” I said. “I’ve trained all year for this day. All my life!” That was the most unfair thing of all. What I had worked for had been taken away. “They tell you to work and then you will be happy,” I said, raising my voice. “Well, I’ve worked. My father has worked. My mother has worked. You have worked. We have all worked, and what has it gotten us? To be shunned b
y our supposed friends. Forced to wear this costume.” I tugged at my buttons, finally pulling the top two apart. I was tempted to rip my skirt off. Why had I not left some pants here in the stables?

  Something poked me at the base of my skull, stinging me.

  I yelped and jumped away from Hoof. Putting my hand to my neck, I whipped around but saw no one.

  “And now I’m being attacked by bees,” I told Hoof. “Everyone is in on it.”

  I felt another sting, stronger this time. My hand, which had been reaching for Hoof’s back, disappeared.

  I gasped and looked down at myself, but I was not there. I almost screamed but choked as my body popped back into view. It came with a burst of pain, as if I had been stung by bees all over. I grabbed Hoof, unsteady, afraid I would fall, and then stared out at the passage. There was no one there. No one had seen.

  “Hoof,” I said. “Hoof.” What else could I say to her? I couldn’t speak out loud about what had just happened. I couldn’t deny it; I had flickered.

  “I knew it,” said a voice from the shadows.

  I froze.

  “Don’t worry, Myra,” said the voice. “Look here.”

  I turned toward the voice and still saw no one. But then a figure flickered into view. His blond hair was wild, his face was dirty, and his clothes looked unwashed. But there was no doubt about it—​it was Nolan Drachman. He stood close to a hay bale, still in shadow. In his right hand, he held a rod like the ones the Deputy and my mother had used to trigger the prezine cuffs.

  “You did this to me?” I whispered. I stomped toward him. “You did this? In plain sight?”

  “Calm down, Myra,” he said. “No one is here. They’re all watching the riding.”

  “How did you do that?” I demanded. “Why?” I couldn’t get past the sensation of my body missing. One second I had been there, and the next I had not. And I hadn’t given my permission.