A Secret of Birds & Bone

by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

  She did so just in time. As her legs were pulled through the hole left by the bone grate, her forearms hit rock. Her scrambling feet searched for purchase underneath and at last her right foot wedged into a crevice. She pushed herself up, her foot twisting viciously with the effort. It felt as though her ankle bone had been yanked out of place and put back together almost before she registered the pain.

  As the last of the water disappeared, Sofia hauled herself out of the hole.

  ‘Are you all right?’ called Ghino, his voice shaking.

  ‘Just about,’ she called back. Ermin was crying, and she could see Ghino wrapping his arm round her little brother as claws tightened on her shoulder.

  ‘So!’ Corvith nipped at her ear, chittering with worry.

  Sofia reached up and stroked him, as much to calm herself as the crow.

  ‘It’s all right, Corvith. Look, I’m all right.’

  But she was not entirely sure it was true. Her ankle felt like it had its own heartbeat, too hot and too cold all at once. It was flushed, a bruise already rising.

  She peered down into the hole, Corvith gripping on tighter to her shoulder. It did not go much deeper. She lay on her belly, her head dangling. It was too dark to see much and she waited for her eyes to grow used to the gloom.

  ‘What’s down there?’ called Ghino.

  She could see nothing but the black hole where the water must have gone.

  ‘How did her grate get there?’ asked Ermin shakily.

  ‘Mamma must have put it there herself,’ said Sofia, staring at the grate. ‘She was keeping it a secret. No one would know what this was.’

  No one except Mamma, and Ermin, and her. She felt an enormous lifting in her chest. We’re coming, Mamma. If you’re at the end of this, we’ll find you.

  ‘We’re out of time,’ Ermin gasped.

  She looked up, but he was not looking at her. His and Ghino’s faces were underlit by the lamp, and she could see the line of their chins tense.

  ‘Ermin?’

  ‘Shhh!’

  A moment later, he extinguished the lamp. Plunged into sudden and absolute darkness at the bottom of the drained spring, Sofia was barely able to breathe.

  She could hear a scuffling. Ghino let out a yelp of surprise.

  ‘Move out the way!’ called Ermin.

  ‘Ermin . . .’ Sofia began, but a moment later Ghino was tumbling gracelessly down the rope with Ermin close behind. They landed with a thump, in a heap beside the open grate.

  ‘You pushed me!’ said Ghino indignantly.

  ‘What, were you going to stay there and let them catch us?’

  ‘We don’t even know who they are!’ snapped Ghino. ‘I bet they’ll be impressed with what we’ve found. They might give us a reward.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ hissed Sofia, horrified. She groped for Ghino in the dark and took a firm hold of his arm.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Shut up!’ She clasped her hand over his mouth. She couldn’t believe how stupid he was being. Ermin helped her bundle Ghino down into the black hole beneath the grate before jumping down after him. Water sloshed round their ankles, and Sofia peered down at them and into the dark. A tunnel stretched ahead.

  Ghino made as though to stand, but Ermin sat on him to keep him still.

  Sofia fought the impulse to laugh at the expression on Ghino’s face . . . until she realized it should be impossible to see anything at all this far underground.

  The people Corvith had sensed were here, and they had a lamp.

  Sofia braced herself, lowering her body as gently as she could, but still she landed with a jarring thud on her injured ankle.

  ‘Are you really all right?’ murmured Ermin. He was watching her closely. She nodded, impatiently wiping away tears. She reached up to close the grate, but Ghino bucked Ermin off. ‘No! The first rule—’

  She shook him off. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she hissed. ‘They’ll catch up. What is wrong with you?’ She drew the grate closed until it clicked and locked into place. ‘Come on.’

  They stood before the dark maw of a riverbed, and somewhere there was the faint sound of rushing water, though the water round their ankles was stale and moving sluggishly. Sofia’s whole body felt tingly now, the warmth of her blood fighting the chill of the tunnel.

  Sofia wished they could light their lamp but the voices were becoming distinct now, grunts as many boots hit the cavern above them. The glow from the lamps washed through the grate and Sofia and Ermin drew Ghino deeper into the shadows.

  ‘Well?’

  Sofia held her breath. That was a woman’s voice – Sister Rosa’s voice, this time Sofia was certain of it. ‘No sign of anyone, Capitana Rosa,’ replied a guard.

  Ermin clutched Sofia’s hand, mouthing, Capitana?

  Inching out of the shadows, Sofia peered up through the grate. Sister Rosa stood at the edge of the saint’s spring high above. Sofia could see her clearly this time, but she was no longer dressed in a nun’s habit.

  Sister Rosa wore a fitted, belted silver tunic and the trousers Sofia had seen when she had climbed into the cart. But this was not the strangest thing – Sister Rosa carried a sword in a scabbard that hung from a knotted belt at her waist. A guard’s sword.

  Sofia’s head span. She had been right in thinking there was something suspicious about this woman. Sister Rosa was not a nun at all.

  She was a soldier.

  ‘I definitely heard something,’ said Capitana Rosa. ‘Water, and voices.’

  ‘There’s water dripping from the walls,’ said the guard, longing clear in his voice. ‘It must be the hidden river—’

  ‘I’m well aware of that, you oaf—’ Capitana Rosa broke off, and Sofia heard astonishment in her voice. ‘Look at this. Saint’s Spring. What is this place?’

  They had obviously never been here before, so how had they reached it now? Sofia groaned inwardly. The open rockfall. This was Ghino’s fault. She shrank back as the lamp was held over the empty pool. Ice entered Capitana Rosa’s voice. ‘What’s that, at the bottom?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Capitana Rosa.’ The guard whistled and they heard a crack of wings as his magpie took off from his shoulder, landing a few moments later on the grate with a dull clink. It tapped at the grate with its beak and Corvith trembled, burrowing deeper into Sofia’s arms.

  ‘It’s definitely something, Capitana,’ said the guard.

  ‘Definitely something.’ The woman’s voice was scathing. ‘How clever. You’d better check what exactly.’

  There was a shout, and the sound of air moving fast through clothing. Sofia stifled a gasp as she realized Capitana Rosa had pushed the guard into the empty spring.

  She braced herself, ready for the crunching of bones that would surely come when he landed, but he obviously managed to grasp the rope before he crashed heavily on top of the grate. His magpie flapped noisily out of the way.

  ‘Well?’

  Sofia heard the guard gasping for air, winded by his landing.

  ‘It’s a grate,’ he managed between shallow breaths. ‘Made of some strange wood. White wood.’

  ‘Can you open it?’

  They heard the guard straining with the effort of trying to lift it. ‘No, Capitana Rosa. It’s fixed tight. Perhaps it’s just a drainage system.’

  ‘But who,’ said Capitana Rosa snippily, ‘put it there? And why?’

  ‘I don’t know, Capitana. It’s made of something strange. Bone maybe?’ The man’s voice trembled. ‘Why is it bone? Are they the saint’s bones? Is that why…’ The man swallowed hard. ‘How will I get up?’

  ‘The bone builder,’ hissed Capitana Rosa, with such venom in her voice Sofia’s hair stood up on the back of her neck. ‘It must be.’

  They heard footsteps, and the lamplight receded. The magpie took off with a snap of wings, abandoning its post on the guard’s shoulder.

  ‘Capitana? Capitana!’ The guard called out, panicked as darkness slipped around him. But Capitana Rosa was go
ne.

  Ghino backed away from the spring, all desire to reveal them seemingly forgotten.

  ‘Who’s there?’ whispered the guard hoarsely. ‘Please. Help me.’

  Ermin tugged on her hand. Sofia felt caught, frozen by pity. But she allowed Ermin to pull her away into the darkness, keeping behind so he would not see her limping. And beneath her cold, and fear, was a small spark of hope. Capitana Rosa had spoken of Mamma.

  The woman had lied about not knowing her. But more vitally, Mamma was alive. And Capitana Rosa knew where she was.

  They walked in near silence until the whimpers from the guard had long vanished. Ghino at last lit the lamp and held it up before them.

  ‘She’s beastly,’ said Ermin shakily. ‘Even to people on her side.’

  Ghino was mute, his hand trembling, sending the lamplight skittering across the walls. Sofia wanted to tell him off for leaving the rockfall open, but he looked too shaken to shout at.

  The riverbed was slimy with algae, and the pain in her ankle was worsening. She bent to check it, and saw the bruise already blossoming more fully.

  Ermin’s stomach gurgled. ‘I’m hungry,’ he whined. ‘I need to eat.’

  He flopped down dramatically on to the sodden floor, splashing slimy water everywhere.

  ‘Don’t you have anything?’ snapped Sofia unfairly.

  ‘Only these,’ said Ermin, pulling from his pocket a handful of glue beads. ‘I took them from the workshop.’

  Sofia ground her teeth impatiently, but the truth was she was hungry too. Dinner at the orphanage felt like days ago. She turned to Ghino.

  ‘Well?’

  He looked at her blankly. ‘What?’

  ‘Did you manage to steal any food on your latest visit up top?’

  ‘I have these,’ he said in a dignified sort of voice. ‘And I didn’t steal them, I made them.’

  He dug about in his pocket and pulled out some sort of biscuit, broken into several pieces. ‘I think I fell on them.’

  Sofia couldn’t help but think they were probably improved by the fall. They looked awful – lumpy and grey-brown. They sat down beside Ermin, Sofia lowering herself gingerly, as Ghino held the biscuit pieces out for inspection. They looked as unappetizing as the glue beads.

  ‘What are they?’ sniffed Ermin, poking at them with his finger.

  ‘Root biscuits,’ said Ghino cheerfully, picking one up and biting into it with difficulty. He sounded like he was chewing on gravel.

  ‘What sort of roots?’ asked Sofia suspiciously, as he tipped one into her hand. It was alarmingly heavy.

  ‘All sorts,’ shrugged Ghino, now attempting to break one in half for Ermin and Corvith to share. ‘Anything I can mush up.’

  Sofia didn’t want to ask what else he mushed it up with. She took a nervous bite. It felt like her teeth were going to snap and, once she succeeded in breaking a piece off, it sucked all the moisture from her mouth. It was like chewing rock dust.

  ‘Well?’ said Ghino expectantly, looking from Ermin to Sofia and back again.

  Ermin smiled politely, but Corvith snapped his beak angrily and turned his haughty head away.

  ‘It’s not exactly easy to make food down here,’ said Ghino defensively. ‘You can always eat that.’

  He pointed at the wall, slimy and dripping.

  ‘Algae?’ Sofia wrinkled her nose.

  ‘It’s good for you.’ Ghino reached out and dragged his finger through it, then sucked off the green slime with relish. ‘Delicious.’

  Sofia decided the root biscuit wasn’t so bad after all. While Ermin and Ghino were distracted with their meal, she checked her ankle. The bruise had arrived like a storm cloud, blue and purple and yellow, staining her skin. She turned away so the boys wouldn’t notice.

  After they’d somehow managed to eat and keep all their teeth intact, they continued along the riverbed. After a few minutes, the water grew deeper and soon they were wading, Sofia’s foot throbbing painfully. Then, a new sound broke over them.

  ‘Is that the river?’ asked Ghino wonderingly.

  ‘Must be,’ said Sofia, limping faster. The mutter became a roar and as they rounded a shallow bend, her nostrils filled with the sweet, fresh scent of flowing water.

  ‘Che cavolo,’ shouted Ghino, swaying on his heels. ‘The hidden river.’

  There it was; a great, wild expanse of water, unlike anything Sofia had ever seen in her life. Though the lamplight only reached so far, the river seemed limitless – silky and clouded with silt. Flecks of water threw light into their eyes, and the noise was incredible.

  Sofia felt again that urge to jump headlong in, but this was no spring. There was a current here, running as fast and dangerous as a herd of stampeding horses. She remembered the last time the world had trembled like this, when she had almost been trampled at the Palio, and she grasped her locket for comfort.

  She eyed the river. In the dark it was terrifying, the lamp’s guttering circle of light offering little comfort against the muscular black of the water. It roared as if it were angry, foaming and spitting, churning faster than anything she had ever seen.

  ‘Now what?’ shouted Ermin.

  Ghino scanned the channel, holding the lamp up. It hit something silver, suspended across the river.

  ‘Wait!’ said Sofia. ‘Is that . . .’

  ‘It’s a chain!’ said Ermin.

  ‘And there are steps, see?’ said Ghino.

  Sofia blinked through the mist thrown up by the torrent. Barely a foot above the river, a chain hung which reached all the way to the opposite bank. And there, vanishing into dark, was a set of stone steps, cut deeply into the white rock and disappearing out of sight.

  Was it still their mother’s trail? How had she managed to make all this? It would have taken years, a lifetime. Sofia found the source of the chain, set just below waist height. She yanked on it. There were rivets sunk deep into the rock, and none budged as she pulled. She looped her sore ankle over it, testing if it held her weight. The chain stood firm.

  Ermin knelt down beside the river, and Corvith squawked and buried himself deeper into his pocket while Sofia held on to Ermin by the scruff of his collar. ‘Careful!’

  Sofia’s heart thumped. One slip and they would be lost and, even if her ankle were not hurt, she would not be able to kick against the torrent.

  She pressed her eyelids tight together, trying to calm her breathing. She had to be brave. For Ermin and Corvith. For Mamma.

  Something tickled the end of her nose. Ermin was holding up a sprig of lavender beneath her nostrils. Sofia stared at it, amazed.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ She took it tenderly. In this dark place where nothing grew, it seemed a miracle.

  ‘Home,’ said Ermin. ‘I’ve been keeping it in my sleeve since Sister – Capitana – Rosa came to collect us, so if I got scared I could smell it.’

  ‘Is this the first time I’ve looked scared?’ laughed Sofia.

  ‘No,’ grinned Ermin. ‘But it’s the first time you’ve looked more scared than me.’

  She breathed deeply. Its purple scent was like the press of Mamma’s hand to hers. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Do we have to pull ourselves across?’ Ghino asked. If Sofia looked worried, it was nothing like the terror on Ghino’s face. She could swear his knees were actually knocking.

  ‘It’s easy compared to living down here all on your own,’ said Sofia. ‘We can do this, Ghino.’

  More than that, she thought. We have to.

  Corvith didn’t want to leave them, and Sofia had to all but shove him from his perch on Ermin’s shoulder. He soared to the other side with the lamp clamped in his beak, buffeted by the wind and spray, and landed on the bottom step.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ said Sofia, trying to keep the shake from her voice. ‘Don’t start coming across until I’m off the chain, all right?’

  Kissing her locket for courage and without giving herself too much time to think about it, Sofia took hold of the chain. She
brought her legs up to hug it, so that she dangled like a monkey, and, swinging, began to edge out over the freezing spray.

  The water seemed to leap up at her, sucking and pulling her hair before yanking it free of the braid Capitana Rosa had made when she was still a kind-seeming nun. Sofia forced herself not to think of what would happen if she lost her grip.

  Her sore ankle throbbed but she bit back the pain and focused on one hand over another, the movement of her arms, then her knees, inching her forwards until she was at the centre of the river. Her neck ached and she swung it left and right. She snatched a glance below her.

  It was a mistake. She caught sight of the churning, black water and her heart began to beat doubly fast. Her ankle pulsed too, and suddenly slipped free.

  ‘Sofia!’

  Ermin’s voice was tiny against the roar of water. Her ankle sank into the river, the current taking grip and pulling. It should have hurt, but Sofia felt nothing – the cold numbing it and sending tingling traces up her leg.

  For a moment she thought she heard the water murmur again, a watery language set beneath the hiss and thunder, and she thought how wonderful it would feel to let go of the chain and allow herself to be carried away.

  ‘Sofia!’

  Ermin’s voice came again, louder this time, and to her horror Sofia felt the chain dip. She looked to the bank. Ermin was on the chain and edging determinedly towards her, Ghino too paralysed by fear to prevent him.

  ‘Go back,’ she cried, but the water swallowed her voice as the chain dipped again. Sofia imagined the links coming apart, breaking, sending Ermin and herself into the watery depths. She gritted her teeth and swung her leg free of the current. New urgency propelled her forwards until she felt the bank scrape her back. She let go of the chain.

  Ermin was not far behind. His face was sweaty despite the chill of the water and he collapsed into Sofia’s side, his narrow ribcage heaving.

  ‘I told you not to do that,’ she shouted into his damp curls, squeezing him tightly.

  ‘I thought you were going to fall,’ he said exhaustedly into her shoulder, and she rocked him side to side like Mamma would have. She wished she could stay like this, holding him, keeping him safe, but she had brought them too far on this path to stop now. The only way was onwards.