The Girl of Ink & Stars

by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

  I kicked the barrel, hard. My toe bent back and I gasped, collapsing in the dirt. The anger left as quickly as it had come, leaving a hollowness. What had I done? I hugged my knees, wishing I could take it back, all of it. Lupe hadn’t known, hadn’t realized…

  ‘Isabella?’ It was Pablo, his hand outstretched. ‘Are you all right?’

  I squeezed my eyes shut until I was sure I was not going to cry, then took his hand. He pulled me up so strongly I lifted off the ground.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, then looked down the alley where Lupe had run. ‘Wasn’t that the Governor’s daughter?’

  ‘Lupe.’ I sniffed. ‘We’re friends from school.’

  ‘Friends?’ Pablo arched his eyebrows. ‘Didn’t seem like it.’

  I rubbed my aching toe. ‘I said some things…’

  ‘I heard. Did she say they were going somewhere?’

  ‘To Afrik, on the Governor’s boat. I—’ I stopped abruptly, remembering Lupe had asked me not to tell. But I had said worse things. ‘I should apologize.’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Pablo. ‘Let her calm down. You should get home.’

  I let him propel me across the square, and as we turned up our street I noticed a livid bruise on his forearm.

  ‘What happened?’

  He looked down and shrugged. ‘One of the horses kicked me. They’re in a strange mood these past couple of days. The goats too – when I left they were all bunched up against the gate.’

  ‘Why?’

  He shrugged again. ‘Don’t tell my ma, she’ll be on about omens and the like.’

  It was the longest conversation we’d had in years, but as we fell into step on the slope, I realized how easy it was to be silent with him too, like the years and Gabo’s death had momentarily spun in on themselves and we were walking back, the three of us, after a day by the sea. I wanted to say this but Pablo’s face was set.

  About halfway up he said, ‘We should go quicker, it’s almost dark.’

  The sun was falling. Ravens crouched on every roof. Their numbers seemed to have increased since the murder, as if they were multiplying, filling the absence of people on Gromera’s streets. I kept my head down. The dust glowed orange and then faded to a deep navy by the time we reached my green door.

  Pablo knocked and it opened a crack. Da’s worried face peeked through, and then he threw the door wide. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Sorry, Da. I—’

  ‘No note? Do you realize how worried I’ve been?’

  ‘He’s leaving,’ Pablo broke in. ‘The Governor. He’s going to take that ship and leave us in this mess.’

  ‘Might be better if he went,’ Da said.

  Pablo shook his head. ‘He can’t get off so easily. We have to teach him a lesson—’

  ‘Not now, Pablo.’ Da glanced pointedly at me.

  ‘You’re coming with me?’ Pablo persisted.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll be all right on my own—’ I began.

  ‘Enough, Isabella.’

  I glared back, and Pablo disappeared without another word, leaving a stony silence in his wake.

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  Ilooked up at the ceiling. Something was different, and I was not sure whether it was good different, or bad. Sunrise had bled into the room, turning the mud walls yellow. The air felt close and lay over my body like a hot, sticky sheet. The silence was too complete, and there was a strange smell, like Da’s burnt porridge but more bitter.

  Pep was sitting in the far corner of my room. He flinched when I got up to stroke him. His fur was up, his tail bushy like he’d been in a fight.

  ‘Pep?’ I murmured soothingly, but he hissed and slinked under Gabo’s bed. Still in my nightclothes, I left the room. Da was sitting at the table, rubbing his eyes. He looked exhausted.

  ‘Da?’ My voice was hoarse with sleep. ‘There’s something wrong with Pep. He seems frightened. Or grumpy with me.’

  ‘Miss La too,’ said Da, jerking his head towards the kitchen. I could hear her flapping her wings against the sides of her coop.

  ‘She’s always grumpy.’

  ‘No.’ Da looked haunted. ‘Something is scaring them.’

  I looked into the kitchen. There were feathers bunched by the back door, and scratch marks at the bottom, like Pep or Miss La or both of them had been trying to claw their way out of the house. My stomach turned.

  ‘What happened, Da?’

  Someone coughed from the garden, making me jump.

  ‘It’s only Masha,’ said Da soothingly. ‘She came over to tell me.’

  ‘Tell you what?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘Something bad happened last night, Isa.’

  The back door opened and Masha came in and sat down heavily. She did not look at me.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ continued Da. ‘But I think Pablo might’ve been mixed up … He’s all right,’ he added hurriedly. ‘But him and Goraz and some of the others. They …’

  ‘They did a very stupid thing,’ Masha finished for him.

  I dropped down on to the bench opposite them. ‘What?’

  ‘They should have just let the Governor go,’ said Masha, dazedly. ‘Why does revenge always win over common sense?’

  ‘Hush, Masha,’ said Da.

  My heart began to thud. It was my fault. I had told Pablo that Lupe had said they were going.

  ‘What did they do?’

  ‘I went to see myself,’ said Masha, her voice almost a monotone. ‘It’s a bad sign, you mark my words. Something else must follow. The last time I saw anything like that was when the songbirds—’

  ‘Please, Masha,’ said Da. ‘Enough.’

  ‘That’s what it is, though. An omen. Because Pablo said the animals were nothing to do with them. Just the ship.’

  ‘The animals? The ship?’ Before my brain could catch up with my body, I slipped on my sandals and unlatched the door with trembling fingers.

  ‘Isabella, no!’ Da was struggling to stand up, his bad leg buckling beneath him as he grasped for his stick.

  I didn’t wait for him.

  Ahead, smoke was laddering from the harbour. I began to run.

  People were crowding the water’s edge and that same sharp smell filled the air, mingling with the smoke, catching my throat.

  Slowly, the smouldering water resolved itself into something else. The charred remains of the Governor’s ship, the hull blackened, the sails ash.

  Pablo’s words floated back to me on the acrid smoke. The Governor. He’s going to take that ship and leave us in this mess . . . We have to teach him a lesson . . .

  Ravens were circling like a cloud of flies. Breath ragged, I reached the first of the villagers and began to push through to the front, ducking under arms and around legs. Though I had dreamt for years of the day I would stand in the sea, I didn’t stop to enjoy it. As the first waves began to soak my nightdress I looked down.

  A tide of dead animals stretched before me, filling the harbour: cattle, horses, chickens and goats … all stamped with the Governor’s brand. His animals, drowned. The ravens had already started swooping.

  Had Pablo and his friends done this, too? I could not believe they had. As my knees buckled, strong, rough hands cupped under my armpits and began dragging me back through the throng.

  Then came other sounds: loud voices, shouts, screams. People were struggling with the Governor’s men, their blue uniforms bright against the grey and brown clothes of the villagers. I tried to shrug off the hands that were still pulling me away, but their grip was firm.

  It was Pablo again, his face somehow aged. He picked me up and ran. Others were running too.

  I craned my neck around Pablo’s shoulder, and saw the whole, horrible scene laid out as if time had stopped: the bay, full of drowned animals, blood on the sand as the Governor’s men got out their whips and dragged people into caged prison carts.

  I shut my eyes, wished I could unsee it all, but the red-black shift of the
waves burnt behind my eyelids.

  Then Da was speaking close in my ear, a door was being opened and his hand was stroking my head as I was carried past the whisper of the maps and placed on my unmade bed.

  ‘Damn leg, I couldn’t keep up with her.’

  ‘I should go. They’ll be coming for me.’

  ‘Was it you? The ship, the—’

  ‘The ship, yes. But the animals … all we did was let them loose. We didn’t chase them into the bay.’

  ‘I believe you. I had to cage Miss La and put Pep in the study. They kept trying to get out.’

  ‘I need to leave.’ I heard Pablo striding to the door, but before he opened it there was a heavy knock. I sat up.

  ‘Who’s there?’ I could hear the nerves in Da’s voice.

  There was no answer, only another loud knock.

  ‘Run!’ Da hissed. I heard Pablo stumble against the bench as he bolted for the back door just as the front door was kicked open.

  A man in Governor’s blue strode inside. Tall, with a scarred face and thick eyebrows pulled low over icy blue eyes. He was drawing back his arm, his whip rippling behind him, but I shouted and Pablo turned, ducking just as the whip came down with a crack! on the table.

  Pablo launched himself at the guard, barrelling him to the floor and ripping the whip from the man’s grasp, throwing it across the room. Pablo had just raised his arm when Da held his fist.

  ‘Go!’

  Pablo hesitated for a moment, then ran for the front door, which was hanging off its hinges, only to stop dead and back slowly into the house. Masha appeared, a lump swelling on her wrinkled forehead. Another man in blue was holding her arms behind her back.

  Pablo seemed to shrink. The first guard was on his feet now, spitting blood on to the floor. Pablo offered his wrists to the manacles the guard unlooped from his belt, and took the slap that followed with only a grimace.

  Masha was released and instantly began pleading. ‘Please, he’s only a boy!’

  ‘Silence!’

  Masha bit her hand, shaking her head. The guard was holding out another pair of manacles.

  ‘She hasn’t done anything—’ started Pablo.

  ‘We have our orders.’

  A third guard was wrenching Da’s hands behind his back.

  ‘He wasn’t there either.’ I ran forward. ‘He was home, with me—’

  ‘I can’t leave my daughter alone,’ said Da, struggling, but no one was listening.

  ‘Please,’ I sobbed. ‘Don’t take him, he didn’t do anything. Please don’t—’

  The man drew back his arm and Da shouted, ‘Isabella, no!’

  I backed away as they were pushed roughly out of the door. The two men holding Pablo were eyeing him warily, but I knew he would not try to escape. Not with his mother threatened.

  My body felt numb, my tongue latched. I could not let them take Da, but I could not see how to stop them. They were bundled into the prison cart, Da wincing as he climbed the steps. I ran back into the house, scanning the room for his stick. It was propped against the wall and I grabbed it, shoving it through the bars and into Da’s hands.

  But the first guard, the one with eyes like ice and the whip, had seen. He wrenched it from Da’s hands and broke it squarely across his knee. The stick splintered and dropped in pieces to the ground. The cart set off fast down the hill as I knelt in the dust, gathering the fragments together.

  I did not know what to do with myself. Our house filled with the smell of the Governor’s burning ship as I sat on my bed with the broken stick and cried. I cried so hard all my body was sore and my eyes puffed. I felt completely empty. I sat there until I heard Pep mewing mournfully from Da’s study.

  The cat was back to normal, rubbing himself against my calves. Miss La seemed to have calmed down too. She pecked my hands when I opened the coop and I fed them both, then went into the garden so I did not have to listen to the silence of the house. Not even the maps were whispering.

  Smoke still hung in the air and I imagined the ship, the sails and mast fallen like clipped wings. That was what the Governor was so angry about, why all those people had been arrested at the harbour. Why they’d taken Pablo and Masha and Da. A dead girl was less important to him than his boat.

  Pep came outside too and I watched him chase flies until my stomach started to rumble. I picked an orange and went inside. Halfway to Da’s study, I saw something fluttering by the front door, slid between a crack in the broken wood.

  A note, short and obviously written in haste – the ink was smudged and the paper had been folded before it had dried, leaving a ghostly reflection above the sentences. The sight of Lupe’s careful handwriting made something swell in my throat.

  Isa,

  I hope you find this. I’m going to show you not all Adoris are cowards. I’ll show you I’m not rotten.

  I’m going across the forest to find who killed Cata. Maybe when I get back we can be friends again.

  Love, Lupe

  xxxxxx

  P.S. Check under the pot. It’s for you to look after.

  I looked left and right, but there was no sign of her.

  No, that wasn’t quite true. I peered at the dust. There were hoof prints leading up towards the forest. So not all the Governor’s animals had ended up in the bay. She had a horse.

  A faint ringing started in my ears, swelling around the other noises – the far-off murmur of the sea, the rustle of ravens on the rooftop above, my own jagged breathing. How far had she got? I had been in the garden for hours, the whole afternoon gulping by.

  My hands began to shake as I opened the door and lifted the pot, pulling out a thick chain. Lupe’s locket.

  Now a roaring filled my ears.

  I’ll show you I’m not rotten.

  I had done this. And now I had to fix it.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  I closed our broken door as best I could, sliding to the floor. The threads of problems dangled in front of me, and I tried to think of a way to weave them into a solution.

  I had to go after her. And for that I would need a horse too – where from, I had no idea. And anyway, if anyone saw a girl out alone near the forest after what happened to Cata, they’d surely stop me. Maybe they’d already stopped Lupe … I took a deep breath. She couldn’t have gone far. Not Lupe, with her taffeta gowns and easy laugh, crossing to the Forgotten Territories?

  Pep sauntered over, rubbing his head against my limp hand.

  ‘What do I do, Pep? How do I fix this?’

  He pawed my hand until I stroked his back, ginger fur wafting in the air. I paused and he nudged me with his head, but I watched the hairs floating until an idea started to form. It was not one I wanted, but no others came.

  I stood and crossed to the kitchen, where Miss La was asleep in her coop. Taking a knife to my bedroom, I wrapped my plait twice around my hand and pulled it taut. Then I began to saw upwards, slicing roughly. Some strands were pulled out, breaking before the knife reached them. The pain was like sparks popping against my scalp.

  Finally, the plait came away and fell on the floor. My head felt light, dizzying. I hacked at the longer pieces until I was left with something resembling a boy’s haircut.

  Gabo’s chest crouched in the opposite corner and I heaved it open, a cloud of dust mushrooming as the lid banged the wall.

  Coughing, I dressed quickly in a faded cotton tunic and trousers, pulling a jacket over the top. They were short at the wrists and ankles. So much time had passed, inches of time since they had last been worn. I took a deep breath and looked into the polished metal.

  Gabo blinked back at me, his eyes wide with astonishment. The next moment he had gone, and I turned away, heart pounding, mouth dry. The broken pieces of Da’s walking stick were on Gabo’s bed, glowing with their strange light.

  Picking out the largest piece, I wrapped it in my discarded dress. Something like that could come in handy. Lupe’s note went in my pocket, her locket around my neck. I
’m coming, Lupe.

  Da had bolted the shutters in his study. I lit two candles, which made circles in the dark. Even though it was a rescue mission, I could not waste this chance to map the Forgotten Territories.

  Emptying his satchel of books, I began to fill it with his cartography equipment: ink, quills, paper, a leather pad to mark miles, a compass, dragon-tree sap for repairing shoes and ripped maps, two drinking flasks. Then his weapon, bought in Afrik: a flat, curved blade, serrated at the edges like teeth.

  Finally, carefully, I took Ma’s map of Joya from the wall. I rolled the map into a tight scroll, wrapped it in a piece of soft cloth and nestled it next to the fragment of walking stick. I carried the now-heavy satchel back into the main room. Pep was sitting on the bench.

  ‘Listen, Pep,’ I said. He rolled on to his back, waiting for his tummy to be rubbed. Cats never understand the gravity of a situation. ‘I have to leave you alone for a while. But I’ll leave the back door open and plenty of water bowls, and you’ll be all right, won’t you?’

  My eyes were pricking with tears but I knew he would be fine. He was a stray until two years ago, and was always catching mice and ravens. Seeing the tummy rub was not forthcoming, he yawned and jumped off the table, slinking through the gap in the broken front door.

  ‘Goodbye, then,’ I said feebly.

  I filled my drinking flasks and then all the bowls in the kitchen with water and food, and propped open the back door. Miss La woke up as the breeze ruffled her feathers and began pecking at the latch. I was about to open it when there was a firm knock that pushed the front door further off its hinges. The next knock sent it crashing to the floor.

  Two men stood in the doorway.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said one, not sounding very sorry. ‘It was almost like that when we found it.’

  I nodded. I hadn’t practised my boy voice yet.

  ‘Your mother in, son?’ the other man said kindly.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Well, we won’t be too much bother. Just got to collect any chickens you have.’