Younger than her, she nearly fell to the frozen ground but caught herself just in time. Her tiny frame was even more fragile than Rachael's, but better fed. Her eyes looked watery even from this distance, and her thin arms were shaking and bruised. She was the most vulnerable thing Rachael had ever seen. Her face and feet were covered in dirt, her hands holding a loaf of bread.
Rachael's mouth watered.
"What do you want?" Rachael had come to expect danger from people who had followed her before. This girl didn't look dangerous, but looks could be deceiving, and suspicion could make a huge difference.
"I—" Rachael didn't miss the girl's nervous glances back the way she had come, and instinctively knew why the girl was there. It had happened before, more times than Rachael could count.
"If someone has sent you on a dare, you've seen me. You can go, there's nothing more for you to see." More fortunate children who had a family and a home had made a game out of sending shy and unpopular children to her on a dare. Seeing Rachael up close was considered brave—talking to her earned them respect. It made sense that this girl, the baker's daughter, would be involved with them.
"I..."
"What is it? I said you can leave, there's nothing here for you." Rachael had learned that being harsh was often the only way to get rid of people. Vulnerable or not, Rachael wasn't going to be nice to someone who had only come to her to prove her courage.
Slowly, the girl took a few uncertain steps towards her. With her tiny hands she tore the loaf of bread in two, and laid one half in front of Rachael's feet.
"I'm not scared of you, and..." Rachael could tell that the girl was lying. Her whole body was shaking, and she had her thin arms wrapped around herself for comfort. "... and I want you to have this." Just like that, the girl spun around and ran off before Rachael had the chance to say something back. Her eyes were glued to the piece of bread lying by her feet. It was still warm and slowly melted the snow around it, extending its warmth to Rachael's cold feet. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a big piece.
The smell reached her nose, making her mouth water. Her stomach tightened, urging her to take a bite. When the feeling grew too strong she gave in, and finished most of it within a few short minutes. The rest she wrapped in her blanket for later. At this time of year any food was valuable, and she wasn't going to waste it when it was offered to her so freely. It might have been the only food she would get all week.
Her eyes sought the dark alley ahead of her for the girl, but there was no sign of her. Rachael thought she could hear a boy teasing and laughing in the distance, but for all she knew it was unrelated. Whomever had dared the girl had likely accepted her to play with him and his friends by now. Tonight they'd go home to their parents, and sleep in their warm beds with more food on their tables than they could ever need. The small loaf of bread had been nothing to the girl, Rachael was sure. Her rich parents could easily bake more. They were humans, she was just another stray. If someone wanted to poke her with a sharp stick they could poke her until she bled, and no one would step in to save her.
She had learned a long time ago that the only one who could save her was herself.
For the first time in a long while, Rachael fell asleep with a satisfied stomach. Her thoughts wandered to the girl, and to the irony of her gesture, as her mind became heavy. They were cruel enough to treat her like a stray cat, yet kind enough to share their bread so generously. Now that Rachael thought of it, the girl hadn't looked all that well groomed. She had looked poor and dirty, like Rachael. Maybe she hadn't been sent to her on a dare after all. Maybe she was nothing but another unwanted child, cast out by her father when he couldn't afford to feed them all. The youngest were often the first to go. She had seen it before.
Rachael couldn't care. There were too many kids like them for her to take pity on one.
Chapter Three
A hot, searing pain burnt through Rachael's body. It was pain beyond anything she had ever felt before, but there was nothing around her to justify it. She was used to blistered feet, frozen ankles and an empty stomach, but this was stronger than the aches she knew. Frantically she looked around, spreading out her hands in the hopes of finding something to hold on to, but there was nothing she could reach. She was engulfed by darkness, with no one around to save her, no one to comfort her.
A man stood over her. His unfeeling eyes bored into her core and terrified her beyond anything she had ever experienced. There was no getting away from him now. He finally had her where he had wanted her, and his promise of unimaginable suffering, of her begging him to make it stop, echoed in her numb mind.
It wasn't real. The amount of pain she was feeling couldn't have been real, but deep down inside her she knew that it was. How could a pain that hurt more than what she was already used to exist? Rachael's heart pounded with fear. At the same time she felt so empty that she wanted to vanish. All of her felt hollow. Her entire being had been filled with nothingness. How she was still here she didn't know, and it terrified her. It seemed to her like she should have faded away a long time ago.
Somewhere in the distance Rachael heard screams. She wanted to help, but she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. Her feet wouldn't obey, even as the screams were getting farther and farther away from her.
She flung her arms out in the dying hope of grabbing on to anything, anyone, but her hands found nothing. Even the man had disappeared, but as much as she tried to find comfort in that she couldn't.
Desperate to move her legs, her body eventually responded, followed by a sharp pain in her head. She had fallen, her legs having been tied together by someone for reasons she couldn't remember.
Next to her, something rustled. Feet. Chains.
Another person.
"Help me!" Her voice sounded distant and strange even to her, but it was the only thing of any power she had left. No answer came, only someone's raspy laughter.
Suddenly a door opened, its bright light blinding Rachael for a moment until her eyes adjusted and she saw who was standing in front of her.
Rachael gasped. A demon. A woman without eyes who hid her face behind a veil made of swirling mists. The loneliness in her expanded until it filled her completely. If the Mothers had come for her she had no bit of hope left. Everything was over. Everything she had fought for. Everything she and the Sparrows had fought to accomplish.
Cold hands closed around her tied-back hair and dragged her across the floor. Her cheeks suddenly hot and wet, Rachael knew that she was crying. Worse than that, she had failed.
She had failed everyone.
Rachael woke up with a silent scream that caught in her throat and with her body covered in cold sweat.
She knew this hadn't been a normal nightmare when relief didn't come to comfort her. It had been another one of those dreams, and this time she had been at the centre of it.
Or had she? She had never heard of those Sparrows before, and why would she be so desperate to help someone when she was a prisoner herself? What had she failed to do? She had never actually seen the person's face. It wasn't unusual for her to view a dream through the eyes of the person affected, but this was different. She knew that it had been her in the dream, as little sense as that made.
And that made things so much worse. She had felt helpless after having one of those dreams before, but she had always known that at least she wasn't the one who'd been dying or suffering. This time she was sure. Something deep inside her knew that it had been her this time.
Although, she couldn't make sense of most of it. Had she been in prison? And if so, why had she been locked up? Why had her feet been tied? There were no places like this in Blackrock, or at least she didn't know of any. There was a small prison, but it was barely big enough to hold the criminals they did have. Wherever this had been, it wasn't in Blackrock. And that made even less sense.
In the dream she had known why she was there and where she was, but it was fading,
and the more she tried to recall details the more they left her memory. It may not have been a normal dream, but it faded all the same, leaving only the feeling of terror in its wake.
Whatever it was that had brought her into prison, to those demons, to that man, she had to avoid it no matter the cost.
Ahead of her, in the shadows between buildings, something moved. Rachael jumped to her feet, wiping her cold tears away with one hand while reaching out for something she could use as a weapon with the other. Blackrock was a dangerous place for homeless orphans on the best of days, but after the dream she wasn't willing to let her guard slide.
The movement stopped. For a second she wondered if her mind had overreacted and had simply panicked when it had just been a gust of wind, but the harder she stared into the shadows ahead of her the more she could make out a tiny frame. Someone was there, and they were watching her.
"Come out!" The small silhouette jumped at her command. Over the years Rachael had learned to avoid confrontation whenever possible, but the nightmare had left her in no mood for playing games. "I know you're there! What do you want from me? Come out now!" Her eyes briefly wandered to the frozen brick in her hands, and she silently hoped that she wouldn't have to use it. It was the only thing close enough she could get to, but if she had to defend herself with it she could easily kill someone, if it hit the right spot. She had never seriously injured anyone, but she had hurt them enough to make them leave her alone. If they left her no choice, she was prepared to not hold back.
With hesitant steps, the tiny frame emerged from the darkness before her. Rachael couldn't help staring when she realised it was the little girl from before. The other children had never sent anyone on the same dare more than once, but in her experience there was a first time for everything.
"Please don't hurt me. I've got a weapon, too, and I'll use it if I have to." Rachael had never heard a bigger lie. She had also never felt so bad for anyone. Just like before the girl's whole body was shaking and her voice had been reduced to a stutter, but Rachael couldn't tell whether that was from the cold or out of fear.
"What do you want?" For now the brick stayed where it was. Hunger could drive even the youngest children to desperate acts, causing them to do all sorts of things, but it was too early for her to let her guard down. Maybe the girl had come back for the bread, realizing that she needed it herself.
"I just want to talk. Please, don't hurt me."
Rachael found herself at a loss. No one had ever approached her like this before. Was it possible that the girl really just wanted to talk? Her gut told her not to let her come any closer, but what harm could she possibly be? Her instincts had never let her down before, but despite her warning, the girl didn't have a weapon. There was no knife on her that Rachael could see, and no other potential threat, either. It was just a small girl in rags, arms closed around herself, without even a doll to call her own.
"Fine. But if you try anything I'll defend myself.”
Her small body crept closer to Rachael, but stopped when Rachael raised her brick a little more.
As a sign of goodwill she put down her brick, hoping that she wasn't going to regret it.
Chapter Four
"Come here," Rachael said, motioning for the girl to come closer. She knew how to react when someone was making fun of her, when someone was avoiding her, or when someone tried to rob her or worse, but never once had she had to deal with something like this—with a girl who looked as frightened as this one did. Accepting that people were scared of her had become an inevitable part of her life, and it had never bothered her. Not until now.
The girl inched closer, not taking her eyes off the brick once. When she realised that Rachael was going to leave it on the ground she sped up until she stood right next to Rachael.
"Have a seat." There wasn't much to sit on besides her old blanket, but Rachael feared that the girl might collapse if she continued to stand up for much longer.
The girl did as told but remained silent, chewing on her own lips to keep herself busy.
"Are you here on another dare?" Rachael asked. The girl shook her head, not taking her eyes off her shuffling feet. "Then what are you doing here?" Rachael knew it was best to remain cautious and scolded herself for letting a stranger come this close to her. This was a first.
People never came right up to her or even sat down with her, not even on a dare. The only people who tried it were those who came to rape her, and she found it hard to believe that this girl had followed her for that.
"I-" Her voice was as tiny and as shaking as her thin body.
"What's your name?
"Cephy."
"How old are you, Cephy?" As uncomfortable as Rachael was with having someone sit so close to her, on her blanket, she was curious. Cephy was either very stupid or very brave, and she wanted to know which one it was.
"Twelve." The girl studied the frozen ground, looking more out of her comfort zone than Rachael had realised. Neither of them was used to this.
"How long have you been homeless?"
Cephy was five years younger than her, and didn't carry herself with the special kind of confidence only orphans who had survived for a long time could muster. This was all new to her, and Rachael wanted to know more.
"Three weeks, I think.”
Rachael watched Cephy with curiosity. It was hard when you first became homeless. Not knowing where to sleep or where to get your next meal from was difficult at any time of year, but to become homeless at the beginning of winter must have been even worse. Rachael had been homeless for so long she couldn't quite remember what time of year it had been, only that she had been scared and had cried herself to sleep, praying for help, until she had accepted that no one listened to her prayers and that she would have to fend for herself. She had been younger than Cephy, much younger, but she had coped. Life was difficult and a struggle, but she had made it work. She couldn't go easy on Cephy, or she would never learn how to take care of herself.
"What do you want from me?"
"I-" Cephy began crying quietly to herself. It was obvious that she was feeling as lost as anyone could feel, but Rachael didn't know what to say. She had never had to offer her sympathy before. What if her understanding would get this girl killed?
"There are plenty of homeless kids here,” Rachael said. “Can't you go live with them?" There were groups of homeless children and teenagers all over Blackrock. They stuck together for safety and they always took in new kids. They knew how to cope with something like this, unlike her.
Her voice was so tiny Rachael had to strain her ears to hear her. "I don't want to die." The admission made something inside Rachael ache worse than anything she had ever felt. "You know where to find food. You know how to defend yourself. I was hoping if I watched you, I could learn.
"I came to bring you this." From under her rags Cephy brought forth a small loaf of bread. It didn't seem to be warm any more, but it still looked good. "You were twitching in your sleep a lot, and you were crying. I was scared, and thought about getting help, but then you woke up and you looked scared, too."
All Rachael could do was stare at Cephy. No one had ever wanted to help her before. She would never have found anyone willing to help her, but that wasn't the point. Cephy had wanted to help her. That had to count for something.
People in Blackrock didn't help strangers—at least, not that she knew off. Maybe Cephy was too young to understand that?
"I was having a bad dream.” Cephy nodded as if she understood. Rachael was glad that she didn't. "You came to bring me bread?" She hoped to lighten the mood a little. By the faint blush on Cephy's cheeks she could tell that it had worked.
"Hmh. And I came to tell you something."
"Oh? And what could that be?" Rachael felt herself getting more and more comfortable talking to the girl. The bad feeling in her gut was still there, but this was the longest she had talked to someone in years. She didn't want it to end just
yet, and she had to give the girl credit for wanting to help.
"I'm not scared of you."
“That's not very convincing when you're shaking. You can't even look at me.” Now that Rachael looked at Cephy she noticed that the girl wasn't shaking as much as she had been. Still, Cephy was lying. People were naturally scared of her, and they had made it clear to her that there would be no exceptions. It was in their nature to fear what they believed to be evil. A little girl would be no different. Cephy hadn't always been homeless, her parents would have taught her.
"I'm cold, is all. I know how the mean kids make you feel. And the grown ups.”
Rachael gave her a sour smile. "I doubt you know-"
"They do the same to me." She knew Cephy meant well, but the girl didn't understand. How could she?
"It's not the same.”
Cephy's eyes had glazed over with the shadow of a painful memory. "They called me a monster. They said I should come to you so we can both go to the Dark Mists together."
Rachael froze where she sat. Even if that were true, those were horrible things to say to a child.
"Why would they say that?"
"My father threw me into the street when I set my bed on fire." Cephy was staring at the ground again, her hands balled into fists and her forehead creased.
"But accidents happen. What was he doing leaving matches lying around?"
Cephy began to shake harder again, and Rachael understood. She hadn't shaken with fear or from the cold before. Cephy had been crying.
"I didn't mean to! Father was shouting, and it scared me, and suddenly everyone was screaming and Father picked me up and pushed me out into the street! Mummy told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen!" Cephy's glistening eyes and red cheeks told Rachael to be quiet despite all the questions she desperately wanted to ask. "It wasn't their fault. See?" Cephy held out her hand, opened it to the pile of branches Rachael had been struggling to light since it had started snowing, and set it on fire. Before she could think better of herself, Rachael had jumped up and taken a few steps back.
Rise of the Sparrows Page 2