My strength has returned. Come, I have an idea.
Giselle paused where the alley crossed another back street. Which way should she go? There were so many places the agent could be keeping Robert. All it would take was a single room in a single house and a house owner who didn’t ask questions something relatively easy to find in a town where most people struggled an unending battle with poverty.
A sudden thought leapt to Giselle’s mind and she inhaled sharply. The agent wouldn’t have come all this way just to get her and Robert. No, he would be gathering other children as well, either by convincing their parents he was taking them to a life of opportunity in the city, or by taking the unloved ones, like Giselle and Robert. It made sense. The child labour agent would need to collect as many children as possible to make his trip to the city profitable.
And if he had a number of children with him, there were only a few places he could keep them locked away. No reputable establishment would rent to the agent, so that left a private citizen with an empty building large enough to hold a few children. Giselle could think of five outbuildings that fit that general description right off the bat, with all of them being to the north. Without delay, she ran toward the nearest possible holding place, just three blocks away.
She was halfway there when the moon peeked over the mountain. It rose quickly, only a half moon, but its light was bright. Giselle changed her tactics and began dashing from this dark doorway to that unlit space between houses to a long shadow of a tree. She couldn’t take a chance on being seen. Who knew how long the agent would wait at Madame Celeste’s house? And he might have helpers. If he had a number of children, he’d need help managing them – which meant even as a boy, Giselle wasn’t completely safe. An agent could grab a boy just as quickly as a girl to take to the city. Dressing in jeans and a t-shirt, only kept her safe from instantly being recognized by the man who’d come for her and from strangers loitering in the night looking for trouble, not from additional agents.
When she saw the back of the building in front of her, she shot into the shadow of the wall and slowly, slowly, slid along the side. Her heart thundered in her ears and her fear made her breath too loud. What if there’s a guard outside the door? What if one of the agents hears me? She reached the corner and stopped, too afraid to look around the edge at the door.
Robert is counting on me, she chided herself. What am I? A coward? All I need is to be strong for a second. Just long enough to peek around the corner. No one knows I’m here. I can do it. I have to do it.
Taking her courage in hand, she looked around the corner. Moonlight splashed across the front of the shed. The door hung open. Giselle shuddered as unbidden relief flowed through her body. There was no guard.
But no children either. The building was empty.
She took a deep breath and, without wasting another moment, hurried on.
I’m sick of this waiting. There are still sounds from inside the shed. It could just be the pony, but maybe not. Maybe the girl slid beneath the canvas at the back. Maybe she’s in there right now, laughing at me.
This cursed moonlight will make it even darker inside the shack. I’ll need my flashlight.
Hey! It’s not dark. The canvas has been cut away from the back of the shelter!
And what’s that? A dog. A black dog, running out the back.
What? Is this black magic? How could the girl rip out the back wall without making a sound? Then communicate with the dog so it would make noise and keep me waiting here like a fool?
It’s not possible. Is it?
Her aunt seemed awfully glad to get rid of her. There’s got to be something wrong with her. Still, I made a good deal. I’m not going to let her go.
And there’re people who’ll pay extra for a girl like that. Maybe I can offer her to a circus. Depending on what she can do, she might be worth more than the others combined.
But first I have to catch her.
There was no one at the second place she tried, or the third. By the time she arrived at the fourth possible holding place, the moon had slipped behind a cloud, leaving Giselle to the mercy of the night. She stopped to still her breath before stealing toward the dark building. There was no guard at this one either, and Giselle crept to the door. It was locked. She knocked gently. There was no response. She tried again, a little louder, then whispered Robert’s name. No response from inside the shed.
There was a slight noise behind her and Giselle spun around, every nerve instantly alert. A guttural snarl slid from the darkness. She threw herself back against the building as a white shape hurtled from the night. It came to a sudden, choking stop just a yard away from her. Outraged barking filled the air as the white dog backed a couple yards, and then ran at her again. This time Giselle heard the snap of the chain when it hit the end of its tether.
A shout came from inside the house and light poured from a small window, revealing the dog’s sharp bared fangs and narrowed eyes. It lunged at her again, jaws snapping.
Within seconds, Giselle was racing down the street. The barking grew distant behind her and then swiftly closer! The dog’s owner had set it free!
Giselle ran faster than she’d ever run in her life, her fear lending incredible swiftness to her tired legs. She was too terrified to look back, but she knew the dog would gain on her quickly. And it was running silent now, which scared her even more. When she heard the thud of paws hitting the dirt road behind her, she somehow pushed herself to run even faster.
Then came a distant shout. The dog’s owner! He was calling the dog home! Giselle didn’t dare slow long enough to look back, but then she heard it bark again farther away. It had broken off the pursuit!
Though her lungs were burning and she felt sick with fear, Giselle continued to run. At the end of the street, she finally stopped and looked back. There was no sign of the dog. She staggered toward a nearby fence and collapsed against it, holding her aching side and gasping for air. It was then she noticed that her food sack was gone. She must have dropped it in her panic.
I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself, she thought desperately, and forced herself to stand upright. She looked up at the sky. The night was wearing down quickly. The moon was still covered with clouds, but she could see the cloud edge shining silver. Soon the moon would be free of its cover and more than halfway across the sky. With a determined step, Giselle continued on.
Thank you, my dear Belle, for making noise in Domi’s shelter. We needed to erase our tracks and get into position before the man realized we had gone. Now he will go to find the girl and we will follow. That way, if he catches her, we will be there to help her.
I know it is a risky plan, Domi, but we have no choice. Since we do not know where she has gone, this is the only way to be sure we can help her if he catches her.
There he is. His darkness moves from the hole in the back of your shelter. He stalks soundlessly down the alley. Now silently, silently, let us follow.
The last building she could think of was a fair distance away, on the farthest street to the north. Giselle had worked for the people who lived two houses down, and remembered the shed because it was painted a bright green and she’d thought it was pretty. Instead of taking the main street in front of the house, she slipped into the alley that lay behind. When the house and shed finally loomed out of the darkness, Giselle once again went into stealth mode. Quietly, she slipped along the wall and peered around the corner.
The second she saw the front of the building, she knew Robert wasn’t there. Though it was late, the door was wide open and light spilled out to brighten a pot of red flowers beside the door. Giselle slipped away from the wall and into the shadow of a mango tree standing in the yard, so she could see inside.
A melodious whistle floated from the doorway and a man sat on a bench just inside the door. He whistled as he carved an intricate design into a piece of wood. Giselle leaned against the tree trunk, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes in an effort to
control her tears. Her dad used to whistle that song, back in the days when he and her mom were still alive when they were a family. They’d been so happy then, even though Giselle hadn’t recognized it at the time. They didn’t have much money and lived in a one-room shack, but they had enough to eat and a home of their own. And each other. They’d had each other.
In the evenings, her dad would sit in front of their tiny fire and tell her and Robert stories until they fell asleep. Her mom would either rub Giselle’s back or play quietly with Robert. Back then, he was a contented toddler, always laughing and talking baby talk.
I’d give anything to have that back. To have them back, Giselle thought. I wish I’d known it was all going to end too soon. I’d have appreciated it more. I would’ve forced myself to stay awake to listen to all of Dad’s stories, no matter how tired I was. But I thought I had years of stories left to listen to. I thought we would always…
She couldn’t hold her sorrow back any longer. Tears gushed down her cheeks. It took all her willpower to not sob out loud. If only she could walk up to the whistling man and say her dad’s name and have him look up from his work and be her dad. A crazy, impossible dream but, just for a moment, she basked in the impossible happening. Her father would pull her into the circle of his arms and cry too, tears of joy. Giselle would hear her mom’s gasp and look up to see her standing in the doorway behind them. Then her mom would rush forward to hug her, to stroke her hair, to say they would never be parted again. And all three of them would go to bring Robert home.
But this man isn’t Dad. If he’s married, his wife isn’t Mom. There’s only Robert and me left in our family. And whether we’re ever going to be a family again or not is completely and totally up to me. No one else.
She couldn’t afford to waste time on impossible fantasies, regardless of how sweet they were. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, trying to eradicate the tears, took a deep breath, and forced herself to turn away.
Yet, after taking a few shaky steps down the dark alley, she stopped and looked back. She couldn’t see the man anymore because the angle of sight was wrong, but she saw the light spilling from the doorway. She heard his whistled song. For just one more moment, Giselle pretended that the strange man was her dad.
When she finally moved off, she felt as if part of herself was left behind. Maybe a bit more of her innocence. Maybe more of her hope. The only thing she knew for sure was that walking away from that light-filled doorway was the most difficult thing she had ever done in her life. So far.
Giselle was two streets away from the whistling man, heading back the way she’d come so she could check the southern part of town, when she suddenly stopped. She’d just remembered another building, a ramshackle tin shack that sat in a grove near the fields where her cousin, Pierre, worked after school. Pierre had taken her and Serena there once to show them something he’d found there, something strange. He’d wondered aloud if a ritual might have taken place in the abandoned shed the night before and, even though it was daylight when they’d walked into the rusted interior, both Giselle and Serena were frightened by what they’d discovered – a strange scent in the air, a jittery energy that seemed to ooze from the walls. And a dark stain in the center of the dirt floor.
Serena suggested that red wine must have spilt there, but Giselle could hear the doubt in her voice. She too suspected the stain wasn’t wine. The shack was stifling hot, despite being beneath the trees, and the heat pulled the odour from the earth. To Giselle, the air in the shack smelled of stale blood. They left shortly afterwards. It wasn’t until they were blocks away that Giselle relaxed enough to ask Pierre who owned the building.
He’d shrugged. “No one knows,” he answered. “That’s why I had to check it out.”
“I bet older teenagers hang out there sometimes,” Serena suggested quietly.
Pierre shrugged again. “Maybe.”
Giselle remained silent. She didn’t want to say what she was really thinking that some small creature had been killed in the shack, possibly sacrificed in some bizarre ceremony. She knew it was better for Serena to convince herself someone had spilled red wine. She wished she could do the same herself.
And it would be the perfect place to keep a bunch of children, Giselle realized. A chill swept through her body. The building is hidden away from prying eyes, yet it’s not too far from town either. No one lives there, so the agents wouldn’t have to pay anything to use it. There aren’t any close neighbours to ask questions or to hear the children if they cry. She shuddered again. The thought of Robert in that horrible place made her feel sick.
Suddenly her hand flew to her mouth. What if she went there and instead of finding the children locked in the shack, she came across another ritual? The drums weren’t coming from that direction, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t happening there, like a quieter ceremony, something far more sinister. But even as the possibilities flashed through her mind, she knew she’d have to check the building. Of all the places she could think of, the remote shack was the most logical for the agents to use. She couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t so.
She’d only retraced her steps a few yards when the feeling of being watched tingled down her spine. She could almost feel unfriendly eyes glaring into the back of her head. The thought of the white dog leapt into her mind and she shrank back into the shadows. No white shape charged toward her. No growl or bark assaulted her ears.
It must be my imagination, she thought, and watched for another few seconds. Still nothing. So she mustered her courage and hurried toward the distant shack.
There’s someone up ahead, walking toward me a boy, I think. It’s hard to tell in this darkness. I’ll grab him when he comes by. He might’ve seen the girl or have some idea where she might hide.
But wait, he stopped. He’s just standing there. Now he’s running back the way he came. It doesn’t make sense. I wish I could get a good look at him, but he’s avoiding the light.
This boy is the first person I’ve seen on the street almost all night. I wonder what he’s doing out so late? He’s kind of small, so he can’t be that old certainly not old enough to be out wandering the streets alone. There’s definitely something suspicious going on. Maybe he’s a friend of the girl’s and he hid her somewhere.
There’s only one way I can know for sure. I’ll follow him. Catch him. When I show him the machete, he’ll talk.
Domi. I must go! Another needs me. Please, I know you are frightened but you must follow this man, watch him, and call me if he finds your girl. But be silent. Do not let him know you are here.
I will return soon. I promise.
Giselle willingly sacrificed stealth for speed. She could see no point wasting time being perfectly quiet until she came closer to the building, and if she ran she could cut down the minutes it would take to walk to the building from fifteen to ten. She paused only when she came again to the edge of the last wide street she had to cross. She’d avoided it last time by taking the alley. She glanced around again but could detect no movement. The only sound was distant drums. The town seemed fast asleep.
And there aren’t any streetlights here. It’s probably safe. Before stepping into the open, she looked up. The moon was almost free of its cloud cover. Any second, moonlight would spill across the earth. She had no time to waste. She raced into the street.
Halfway across, moonlight splashed around her. Two seconds later, she was across, safely engulfed in the shadow of a palm tree. Her heart rate eased as she looked back the way she’d come. Still nothing. She’d made it across unseen.
Giselle hurried into the nearby alley. It led directly to the narrow lane that would take her to her destination. Just a few more minutes and she might find her brother. And then the next impossible task would begin. She’d have to set him free.
There’s the boy, running across that street, right through the moonlight.
Hey, that ain’t no boy! It’s her! Has to be she
runs just like a girl, light on her feet. Fast too. And isn’t the hair in pigtails? She must’ve stolen some poor fellow’s clothes.
I can’t believe my good luck! She’s heading out of town, right past where Claude is holding the kids. This might be fun. Won’t she be surprised when I haul her back and throw her in with the others, then tell her she ran right into our arms? And she thinks she’s so smart!
Maybe I’ll finally get some sleep tonight. Claude hasn’t done nothing but sit around all night. I bet he’s even been sleeping. Not like me, chasing some brat all around town. And I’m getting tired. I’m glad this is almost over.
Giselle jogged down the narrow lane. Shrubs and trees crowded against the road, blocking out the moonlight, making it difficult to see. Suddenly she stepped into a deep pothole and went flying forward. Her arm whacked against a stone as she sprawled across the road, and for a few seconds Giselle rolled into a ball and squeezed her forearm to her body. Tears sprang from her eyes as she waited for the pain to subside. Finally, still gasping, she climbed to her feet and continued to run.
A few minutes later she crossed the rickety bridge, and then a little farther on she noticed a familiar break in the vegetation. She slowed to a walk and turned onto the path leading from the road. The drums had been growing louder as the night wore on, and she was glad for once to hear the clamour increase. The noise would help to mask the subtle sounds of her approach, just in case someone was there to hear.
Slave Child (Horse Guardian) Page 3