“Mallie!” Mortimer says, smiling at me. “I should have known you’d be the one to find—”
“I want to know what this really is,” I say, holding the bag up to him. “Timor powder, like the river?”
The smile doesn’t leave his face. But his eyes change as he looks at me. “Yes, that powder is found along the banks of the Timor River. It can be used for many things.”
“Like making monsters out of the dirt?” I ask, softly. “I’ve seen this same color all over the mountain. I’ve seen it in Dustclouds. I see it in the Dust sometimes.”
“It is the Dust,” Mortimer says, his voice low and fierce. He isn’t smiling now. And he’s not holding anything back. Now all the riders have landed. I hear them joking with one another. I hear their horses prancing around the clearing. But my shaky breaths feel louder to me.
“You make the Dust,” I say softly.
Mortimer nods. And then he has the audacity to grin. I can’t believe I ever thought that grin was handsome. Now he only looks cruel.
“I’m going to tell everyone,” I say through clenched teeth.
“No you won’t.” Mortimer says this in such a caring voice. “Because there’s no point. People have believed this so long now that they’re afraid to even consider anything else. They’ll think you’re lying. They’ll think you’re just causing trouble.”
“I want to cause trouble,” I say, pressing my arm against my side so he won’t see it shaking.
“But does your brother want that?” Mortimer says, and smiles down on me kindly. Like he’s a doting uncle. He’s found the softest spot in my heart, and he knows it. “I can keep sweet Denver Down Below, Mallie. I can keep him there for as long as I want. Right now, he’s bragging about his sister the hero. ‘Mallie over the Moon,’ he calls you. I can change how he sees you. I can keep you apart forever unless …”
I gulp, swallowing down a terrible stinging feeling in my throat. I will not let him see me cry. “Unless?”
“Unless you keep all these discoveries a secret.” His voice is easy, as if we’re having a conversation about the weather. But I can’t get past the sharp gleam of his eyes.
Mortimer clears his throat and nods to one of his Guardians. They’re going to measure our Keeps. Same as always. Like it’s any other day.
“You have a choice,” Mortimer says, resting his gloved hand on my shoulder. I stiffen at the feel of it. “Choose carefully, mountain girl.”
A Guardian is suddenly at Mortimer’s side. “Did she complete the mission? Do you have Dust to weigh?”
“Yes,” I say, dropping my eyes to the ground. I hold the bag out to the Guardian.
“Good girl,” Mortimer says softly, and he turns to walk away.
The Guardian hands me two bags of Feathersworth. But this time, the money doesn’t fill me with hope or pride. I think about Iggy, how we’re in the same position, really. We’re both doing what we’re told, believing Mortimer will give us enough money to take care of the people we love. But I realize now that he’ll just find some other reason to keep Iggy’s papa away from her. To keep my brother Down Below. It doesn’t matter how many missions I complete, how many Feathersworth I earn.
“Excuse me.” Iggy stands beside me, clearing her throat. She holds out my UtilitySnap. “I’ve been keeping this for you. In case you need it.” When I reach to take it, she rests her little hand on top of mine. “I’m with you. I’ll help you. Whatever you do.”
Mortimer and the Guardians have moved across the clearing, talking to Honor and his friends.
“Keep an eye on things here until you hear from me,” I tell Iggy as I fasten the UtiltySnap in place. “I’m going to cause trouble.”
Iggy smiles so wide that both cheeks dimple. “I figured.”
I stomp toward Adam and the boys from Coal Top. When they see me, they stop talking. I tell Greer, Connor, and Nico to hide my parents. “Granny Mab will help you,” I say quietly. “Tell them I’m okay. To trust me. I’ll tell you more as soon as I can.”
“I’m going with you,” Adam says to me. “Wherever you’re going.”
“Good” I say as I mount my horse. He does the same. “Leo, run. And fly.”
“Where are those two headed?” I hear a Guardian shout as we soar skyward.
I look back and see Mortimer watching us. Our eyes meet briefly, long enough for me to see that wolfish grin stretch across his face.
We fly toward the sky so fast my face burns, and then we pivot toward the mountain mines.
My first memory of the mines came when I was holding my mama’s hand. I remember the way the woods felt: cold and wet. And how they smelled: like peppermint and lavender. We swung a lunch pail between us, and while we walked, she told me stories. Then the whistle blew, and she smiled down at me and told me to go ahead. I could run to meet Papa. When the whistle blew, he was on his way up.
I remember how men spilled out of the mines, shadowy-looking because of the soot they were covered in. Sooty save for the yellow bird on every man’s shoulder. Honeysuckle was tiny then, flapping her sunshine wings when she saw me. And Papa would smile and open his arms up wide. His arms might as well have been wings for me, a sheltering place to keep me safe. That is a happy memory of the mines. But I’m not little anymore. And I now know that the Down Below is a miserable place.
Leo glides through the South Woods, landing in thick overgrowth so we can’t be seen. Guardians stand alert at the opening of the mine.
I let out a long breath, trying to steady my heart enough to accomplish this part of the plan. Because I don’t know what comes after this. I don’t even know if this is possible.
“I’m a little bit afraid now,” I tell Adam. “Are you?”
“I’ve got Mallie over the Moon with me,” he says. “You’ll rescue me if I need help.”
I shake my head and sigh. I don’t have much of a plan for this rescue. Even though I’ve imagined breaking Denver out of here, actually being here is making my heart race. Everything could go wrong. Thankfully, I don’t have enough time to think about all that for very long.
“Ready when you are,” I tell Adam. “Please don’t get caught.”
“Same to you,” he says. And then he turns to his gentle, old horse. “All you have to do is fly above me, high enough that they don’t see you. Lean down and snatch me before they do, all right? Easy enough?”
Jeff taps his muzzle against Adam’s forehead.
“Yeah, yeah,” Adam says as he nuzzles against the horse. “Then you can have a snack.”
Jeff floats up above us. With a final glance at me—and a final grin—Adam launches into a run through the trees, stomping hard enough to catch the Guardians’ attention.
“Over there!” they shout as they run after him.
I lean into Leo for a hug. “I know you’ll find me.”
Leo neighs, bowing his head to me. The sound is a sad, high pitch that breaks my heart. “I’ll be careful,” I promise him. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. Just watch for me. Okay?”
His soft eyes bore into mine. Leo will always find me. He’s a true friend.
Pulling away from Leo, I run for the mine, ducking through the dark opening and into the tunnel. Torches line the walls, which makes the descent easy, at first. The light is dim, but at least I can see. My boots slide as the descent gets steeper, so I pitch my body weight slightly back to stay upright.
Just go low, Adam told me. The sleeping caves are at the lowest level.
Once the torches run out, I reach for my UtilitySnap. Time to figure this thing out, I think to myself. I rotate one of the metal fingers until it becomes a beam of light. It’s not a full-on lantern; just a small cluster of glowing pebbles. But it helps me see the step ahead of me, and that’s all I need. I keep my hand against the cold, damp wall as I slink down deeper.
I’ve never been this far down in the mine before. All the darkness—all this quiet—makes my fears grow louder. What if I don’t find Denv
er? Or what if Mortimer is here already? What if he’s taken him? It won’t take long for him to send his Guardians here.
I pick up speed, light extended in front of me, zooming down into the mines so fast that I’m half sliding, half running. And then a wonderful sound fills my ears: snoring.
Listen for lots of snores, Adam told me. He’s right; there’s a whole chorus of them way down deep.
I crouch down low enough to crawl through a small tunnel, which leads me out into the Sleeping Cave. It’s just as Adam described it, a huge dome of a room where hundreds of tiny cubbies are carved into the walls. Boys are sleeping in each nook, ratty quilts pulled up under their chins. I see pictures stuck to cave walls with gum. Old teddy bears with button eyes dangling from their faces. Denver is small, so I’m banking on him being in a low cubby. And I’m right. At the sight of him, a sad, high sound escapes my chest. Something between a cry and a squeal of delight. Not so different from the sound Leo made for me. I clap my hand over my mouth as I watch Denver sleep. His chest rises and falls. His face is peaceful. He isn’t hurt.
I crawl inside the cubby with him and brush his hair back from his face. Kiss his forehead and whisper his name.
He shoots up, gripping his book and his bear.
“Mallie?” He whispers my name like it’s a question. And then, again—“Mallie!” Like it’s a promise. I hug him tight.
“We have to get out now, and you have to trust me. I’m so sorry about everything. You must be so afraid.”
“I wasn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I can be brave like you. I told everybody about you, all the people I met. I told them that my sister is a great hero. They knew about you, somehow. In letters from their families. They’d heard rumors that the Starbirds were back. That there was a girl who could ride them like fire in the night. That’s you. I’m so proud of you.”
He might not be so proud of me once he realizes I’m now a criminal. But for now, this feels really nice. “Do you know how to get to the top of this mine without being seen?”
He grins. “Follow me.”
Denver is quick and sly, speeding through tunnels and up ladders and never once dropping the teddy bear or book he brought with him. His baby Dustflight tries to perch on his shoulder but keeps falling off. Denver eventually carries her gently in his hand.
“Almost there,” Denver says, pointing ahead to a nearly hidden, grass-covered door. But just as his small fingers touch a cluster of vines to pull them away, warning bells ring all along the tunnels.
“It’s locked!” Denver cries, pulling at a rusted latch.
I nudge him out of the way and find the right tool on my UtilitySnap. My arm is shaking with excitement as I flick the lock and push open the door. I had no idea I would be such a natural at criminal endeavors.
We climb out together into the night, onto a hill across from the mine opening. The Guardians aren’t standing outside, which causes another not-gentle word to float out of my mouth. I hope they didn’t catch Adam. The alarm bells are blaring. The whole mountain will hear.
“I got us out,” Denver says. “What’s your plan now?”
“There!” The shout of a Guardian, running through the trees. Denver kisses the baby Dustflight and sets her free. “Run!” I say, taking Denver’s hand and pulling him alongside me.
“We can’t go this way!” Denver shouts. “There’s a cliff’s edge ahead! A really high one!”
“I know,” I say, swooping him up in my arm and slinging him around to my back. “Hold on.”
“Mallie, that’s a cliff! That’s a long fall!”
I smile. “Trust me.”
I don’t stop running. I glance back once, to see the Guardians running after us. The Guardians with their flowing capes and shining swords. Crows that go nowhere, I think to myself.
I jump.
And just like I knew he would, Leo swoops up under me, lifting me into the sky. I pull Denver around so he’s in front of me on the horse. I’m never letting him go again.
Denver laughs nervously. “Okay. That was wow.”
Adam swoops up beside us on his horse. He’s breathless from running through the woods.
“Where do we go now?” Adam asks.
Denver rests back against my chest.
“Somewhere safe,” I tell him, looking at Adam. “Somewhere they won’t come looking for us. Follow me.”
“Mallie!” Denver shouts as Leo climbs higher. “This is too high!”
“It’s okay,” I remind him. “Hold on tight with your legs. And remember I’m holding on tight to you. I won’t let you fall. You’re safe with me.”
“Swing skyward, Leo!” I say, with a tap of my boot. The horse curves gently over the canopy of treetops, above the mine. Wings flap once, then again. The wind is wild in our hair.
I will never forget this moment, I realize. This moment when my little brother is still small enough for me to hold. The look in his eyes when he sees me, like I’m his hero.
Even sweeter: He looked at me that way before I busted him out of a mine or knew how to fly a horse. I’ll make sure he gets to have wild adventures like this in his life; he’ll do many more brave things.
He will live a different story than the one he was given.
The Pember Mountains are bleak and snowy, which is probably why they popped to mind for a hideout. At first, this seemed like a great idea. But the air here is a bitter cold that seems to bite its way through you. The light is dim this close to the Dust, and the cold and darkness only magnify how tired we are. Our stomachs growl so loud we hear them echo in the cave where we’re huddled together. It’s been a few hours since we left the mine. Hunger, not to mention the cold, are making it very hard to think of a good plan.
We’re safe here—for a minute, at least. But we can’t stay here forever. I feel defeated. Lost, a little.
The horses kneel down close to us, covering us with their wings. Their warmth helps us, but I worry about them. Maybe they can fly through snow, but they’re not made to live here. I see crystals forming on Leo’s muzzle. “We’ll be out of here soon,” I promise him. “Just give me a minute to think …”
Denver tries to sleep, but he’s restless, tossing, turning, scrunching his face with every terrible dream. Adam paces back and forth, the way he does when he’s working out a problem in his mind.
I think of my parents, hiding somewhere in the woods.
I think of the Feathersworth I earned, which are surely worthless because I’ve disobeyed.
Maybe confronting Mortimer with the truth was the worst thing I could have done. Right in this moment, it feels like I made a bad decision.
“How can I convince everyone’s he’s lying?” I ask Adam. Adam is close beside me, his arm next to my arm. He’s there to stay warm but he’s there for comfort, too.
“If there was just a way we could prove it,” Adam says. “What if you got some of the Timor powder and made a monster? Proved that it’s all just some silly magic trick?”
“How will I learn to do that?” I ask. “There’s got to be a better way.”
Adam chews his lip, working through scenarios in his mind. And I rest my head in my hand, too exhausted to sleep.
I want to scream. So I sing instead, tracing my fingers through Denver’s soft hair as I do:
Mountain girl, lift up your eyes,
the stars are shining bright for thee.
Reach out and take the silver cord.
Braid beauty now for all to see.
“Mallie?” Adam is standing at the mouth of the cave, snow falling all around him. He’s looking up, toward the sky.
“Yeah?”
Slowly, Adam steps back … and a Starpatch floats into the cave.
Soft as a feather.
Cool like the wind.
I reach out my hand, and it lands as gently as a butterfly.
Adam shakes his head. “Where did that come from? All the way up here?”
I walk to the edge of the cave and look
up into the sky, the Dust ever present above the snow. I see something there, something rippling, so shiny it’s nearly impossible. And I begin to wonder. To question.
I shiver and sing out the words again. And another Starpatch floats down toward me, toward my song.
Well, not my song exactly. I’m singing the song of the Star Weavers. The one they sang so long ago.
The song that pulled starlight from the sky. Just like I’m doing now. The Guardians told everyone to stop singing because the Dust was dangerous. And the Dust is dangerous … but only when you’re in it. When it overwhelms you. What if there’s another reason they made us all stop singing?
“I have an idea,” I tell Adam, running past him into the cave. My breath is a frosty burst of hope as I mount Leo. “Wait here.”
“What are you doing?”
I guide Leo to the edge of the cave, quickly.
“Mallie …” Adam reaches for Leo’s mane, keeping him in place. “That look on your face makes me nervous. What are you doing?”
“I need to see. I have to see …” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “If there’s something above the Dust.”
Adam’s eyes go wide. “You’re insane, Mallie. The Dust is poison!”
“Says who?”
Adam bites his tongue. I know what he wants to say. The Guardians.
“There’s proof for this, though,” Adam says. “When a Dustblob falls over you, sorrow engulfs you. Fly through a Dustcloud and rage fills your heart.”
“I know what it’s like,” I call over my shoulder. “I know the Dust makes us feel numb; that’s why the Guardians use it when they make house calls. Sometimes it makes us feel confused and lonely. It’s every terrible feeling and no feeling at all. They made it to be that way. Just like they made the monsters. They’ve tricked all of us. They told us what to do. But who tells a star what to do? What if they’ve just hidden the stars from us? What if the light wants back in?”
For way too long now, we’ve believed the stories we’ve been given.
Adam points to his eyes. “The Dust causes this. Just a little of it. You can’t fly around in it!”
Over the Moon Page 15