Watch of Nightingales

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Watch of Nightingales Page 8

by Honor Gable


  Viola gets to go on a mission too?

  Without realizing it, I've let go of his finger. "I wasn't going to do anything back there."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Couldn't take the chance."

  With a huff, I yank my arm, trying to free myself from his grip. "Can you let go of me now?"

  "No. We're a young couple stealing a few precious minutes alone. We must act the part."

  "We can pretend we're having a spat." I yank again and this time he lets go.

  He laughs. "As you wish."

  Who is this man? I really look at him and take in his laughing eyes and thin lips, pale skin. He's not classically handsome, but there's something about him.

  "See something you like?"

  Does he expect me to blush like a schoolgirl? I arch a brow. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

  "You are delicious." He actually licks his lips like he wants a taste.

  "Time for me to get back to my friend's house." I step in close. "Should we kiss goodbye like we made up? For our covers, of course."

  His eyes darken to sapphires and he flicks a glance down at my mouth. "For our covers. Right. I guess we have to."

  One more step and our bodies plaster together. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him down for a kiss. It's light and tentative at first, but we grow bolder, exploring and tasting each other. And he tastes delicious. Like aged brandy and pipe tobacco. My arms tighten around his neck and he sweeps me off my feet, spinning me around a bit. My head fills with fog and my eyes are closed so tight I see multi-colored stars.

  We're both breathing hard when he puts me down and we break away, grins lighting up both our faces. I turn and saunter away, throwing one last glance at him over my shoulder.

  He's still standing there staring after me.

  Good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  VIOLA

  Audrey's curses still ring in my ear as I slip through the night with Lois. She hates being left out of what she considers fun and made her fury quite obvious when I stopped by to pick up Lois. I wish Audrey was out here doing this instead of me.

  Lights shine around the next corner, so I dart into an alley, pressing myself against the side of a building, the grains of the stones scraping my back. I hold my breath, not daring to move. It's difficult to keep my eyes open, I want nothing more than to close them and shut out this terrifying world. This ugly world, colored and streaked with reds and greys. Blood and ash. Already so many have died and we've only been here a handful of days.

  The vehicle drives past, and after counting to one hundred, I peek around the corner, my eyes searching for any sign of life lurking in the night. My senses are heightened, even my skin is more sensitive to each breath of air, a leaf scraping across the street reaches my ears, the scents of yeast and garbage mingling and making my stomach roll.

  The way is clear.

  My feet fly across the cobblestones, the cloth I wrapped around my boots are slippery, but muffle my steps. Three more turns and the starting point is up ahead. We pause and Lois hands me half the pamphlets Xavier gave her.

  "He suggested we split up, but I told him to shove off."

  I smile a little. "Good. Are you ready? How do you want to do this?"

  "Did you play leapfrog as a child?"

  "Of course."

  Her hands wave about as she explains. "Something like that. On each street you will take one house or store and I'll run to the next and so on."

  "All right."

  "And if anyone comes, sing like a nightingale and I'll get you into the darkness so they can't see us." Her eyes glitter madly in the moonlight.

  "Couldn't I just run?"

  "Yes, but then we'd be separated and I don't want to do that."

  It makes me nervous because I can't see very well when she manipulates the darkness around us.

  I follow her so I don't end up lost, the map I studied already banished from my mind. The night is warm, no hint of the oncoming fall in the air. It's thick and within seconds, my skin is covered in a sheen of sweat. I ignore it, and focus on the sensation of my blood burning through me, of my heart beating as steadily as if I were walking, the city blurring at the edges of my vision, but everything before me clear and distinct. My head is light and my body is fluid, like I'm speeding through water, buoyed by gravity. The night wraps me in its arms, keeping me safe from sight. Lulling me in its quiet.

  The terror from earlier melts away, replaced by the knowledge nothing can touch me. Catch me. Find me.

  I'm untouchable. Invulnerable.

  A superhero.

  And maybe, with these pamphlets, others will be inspired to feel the same.

  At the very least, they'll hear the truth. About the arrests, the prisons, the camps.

  We've hit three streets when we hear the voices. Before I can make the slightest chirp, Lois clamps her hand down on my arm and we disappear. My sight goes almost black. I bite the inside of my cheeks and focus on breathing silently, stilling each part of my body, becoming a statue. Lois's grip is stone, but it keeps me grounded. Especially when the steps of Jerries turn the corner and walk right towards us. I can just make out their shapes.

  I send frantic prayers up to heaven. Lois doesn't actually become invisible. She just draws shadows around her. Hopefully if they do see anything, their minds won't be able to process the truth so they'll believe the lie. The trick. A trolley comes rolling along behind them and I want to cry. What is going on?

  Lois inches us closer to the building, away from the stairs we were about to ascend. She lets go and the shadows lighten. I can see clearly again. We're tucked away in a stone alcove, away from the searching eyes of the Germans.

  Their boots shine from the light of the trolley, looking like black pools of the abyss. They enchant me, and I can't look away. Each step brings them closer to us, and their words turn to garbles in my head even though I can speak and understand German. Fear blocks everything but the pain still pulsing in my arm from Lois's grip and the smell of shoe polish. The soldiers from the trolley emerge and join the other three, speaking in low voices before their boots tramp up the steps and they crash through the door.

  Screams echo from inside, followed swiftly by the sound of begging.

  At the cry of a child, I'm left alone, Lois disappearing without a word.

  Praying I'm not seen, I ready myself to race up the stairs. Before I can, Lois pops back into sight, slapping a hand over my mouth before I can release the yelp of fright.

  "We don't have much time. There are back steps that lead into the flat. Meet me." She disappears again.

  I follow her orders and slip inside through the back door on swift and silent feet. I'm deep in the flat, but the dark is so intense I can't tell what room. I follow the sliver of light and loud voices coming from the front of the flat. A hand reaches from the shadows and yanks me into another room. Lois pushes away enough of the shadows for me to see her and to recognize we're in a bedroom. A nursery. Lumps in my throat choke me and wet fury stings my eyes.

  We peek through the crack in the door, and Lois does her magic so we can see what's going on.

  A man and woman are on their knees before the Nazis, weeping shaking their bodies, hands held up in supplication. One of the Nazis holds a baby who can't yet be two by the leg, taunting them.

  Rage pushes away the fear and my head clears, their words finally making sense. "What's wrong, you swine? You should have known what would happen when you had him. You brought this on yourself."

  Lois glances over at me and at the fury and pleading in her eyes, I nod. She slides her grip down my arm, staying in contact until we lace our fingers together and move as one. She gathers black around us, hiding us from sight as we sneak from the room and down the last stretch of hall. I squint through the haze and can make out shapes. We release each other once we’re positioned behind the soldier with the child. Lois slams the butt of her pistol against the back of his head, giving me the chance to grab the baby
from his loosened grip.

  In seconds we're outside and down the street. She takes the baby from me.

  "Should we go back and try to help them too?" I ask.

  Shots ring loud in the night and we both flinch. Was that the parents? Or just shots to terrorize them? Or aimed at the phantoms who spirited away the little boy. "No. There was nothing we could do for them but this. And trust me. To them? This was enough."

  "What are we going to do with a baby?"

  "I'll take him to my safe house. The women there will be willing to help. I hope."

  "Come find us if you need us." I memorize the way she looks. The baby tucked into her arms so naturally, blond hair tumbling from her bun around her shoulders, an expression of peace never before seen on her face. She's beautiful.

  "Go. Be careful."

  "You too."

  We both fade away into the night, my steps hurrying as the sun begins to wake, my heart shattered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  AUDREY

  I stub out the cigarette in the glass ashtray, burning my finger in the process. With a muttered curse, I suck on the offended digit. Turning on my side, I sink down under the covers and close my eyes. Which pop right back open. There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep until Lois gets back safe. Bloody Xavier sending them out without me.

  What use I would be I don't know. I guess I could heal the paper cuts I'd get from the pamphlets.

  I punch down the pillow and sigh. This is hell.

  There's no creaking of the front door as a warning. Lois is just suddenly in our room. I screech and pull back my fist in reaction, stopping it with extreme effort. It's a good thing too because I'm going mad. I see a baby in her arms.

  "Is that a baby?"

  "More of a toddler, really, but yes. Viola and I might have done something rash." She tosses her head in defiance, clearly not caring how rash it was.

  "Care to explain?"

  "Yes. We'd like an explanation as well."

  We both jump at Jacqueline's voice in the doorway, Agnes at her side.

  Lois bounces the child and stares down at it for a moment. As she explains, I have to sit. She leaves out the powers she and Viola used to pull it off, but I'm able to fill in the blanks. Now I'm even more furious I wasn't there.

  The sisters remain calm, their faces blank as they listen to her. Lois refuses to show regret or fear, and stares at them in defiance once she's done, ready for their verdict.

  Agnes puts her hand on her sister's shoulder and comes farther into the room. "You did right bringing the babe to us. It's what we do, after all. Maybe it would be best if we don’t know more." She beckons for us to follow her as she leaves our room.

  They lead us to another room. One I hadn't noticed on our earlier tour of the house. Probably because it's hidden behind a large bookshelf. I'd sworn it was built into the wall, but it's actually built into a door. The room is barely more than a tiny closest, but there's a bassinet and a pallet on the floor. Enough room to hide and even be relatively comfortable. Crikey, this is brilliant.

  "If we aren't here, one of you must hide in here with the babe. In the morning, I'll meet a few contacts and we'll try to find a place for the child." She laughs a little. "And since you brought the poor thing home, you are responsible."

  Lois's face shines with relief and she grins at Agnes. "That will not be a problem."

  The sisters disappear back into their room, and Lois and I huddle into our beds. She snuggles the babe close to her belly and curls herself around him. After a moment, she speaks into the dark.

  "It's awful. What they're doing. Coming in the middle of the night. Terrorizing a baby. I hate them. And I hate these little pointless missions. Watching and doing nothing? Slipping through the night like cowards and spreading about papers that most people will trash or use to wipe their bums."

  Air whistles through my teeth. "Maybe we should do something to change that. We have these powers and we barely get to use them. I'm tired of orders."

  "Me too."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  VIOLA

  The Eiffel Tower rises up in the distance, standing tall, unchanged, even as the world goes mad all around it. We stop at a cafe near the train station, taking seats at one of the outdoor tables. I force my expression neutral as I sip on the coffee we're brought, still not used to the bile-inducing taste.

  Audrey smirks at me over her cup and leans across the table. "Nasty stuff, isn't it?"

  "Very. How long before our friend gets here?" It's nice being here with her. I haven't enjoyed our separation, as much as I like Rivka.

  She takes another sip before answering, her eyes roving, searching, watching. "I don't know. We should probably move on as soon as she's come. Stop by a shop and buy a little something. Some bread maybe."

  "Yes, Xavier doesn't have much food. There's a bakery a little past the train station. That Theo fellow might be there later this afternoon." He'd been sent away on some sort of mission. I check my watch. It's only ten. We still have fifteen minutes before our contact is supposed to show.

  Her eyes burn and lips curl into a saucy smile. "We'll definitely have to wait around for them then."

  I snort into my cup, laughing despite myself. "What about Mark?"

  "Mark was a great night, but he wasn't my soul mate or anything." Her eyes glaze over.

  Needing a distraction, I ask, "Do you believe in soul mates?"

  She doesn't even blink at my abrupt question. "No. I believe in love. In a thousand different kinds of love that can brighten or fade. I believe we should embrace and enjoy every time love finds us, and not hold on when it leaves. I remember everyone I've loved with happy memories." Her eyes seem far away, perhaps gazing into a different time and place. She takes another sip, focusing on me. "What about you?"

  My lips purse in thought. "No, I guess I don't either. I believe love is a choice. There are certain people we may be attracted to more than the other, but real love? We choose to do it. Every day. I've watched my mother choose to love my father every day even though he's gone. She chooses him instead of finding someone else. And that's beautiful to me."

  A girl interrupts us, knocking into my seat, spilling her purse on my lap and the ground around me. I pocket the package wrapped in brown paper, and help her gather her things.

  I brush off her apologies and after a last smile, she continues on her way. Audrey crooks a brow and I respond with a slight nod.

  The squeal and scrape of brakes and metal on metal chafe my ears, drawing my attention to the train station. A mass of people milling around put their heads down and hurry from the area. No one exits the train cars except a few soldiers from the first one.

  "What's going on?"

  Audrey turns back to me. "Deportation."

  Nausea rolls and the awful coffee threatens to make a reappearance. Moans and cries for water and mercy trickle through the noises of the city. I want to close my eyes and stuff my fingers in my ears. I don't want to be a witness to this. Last night was bad enough. This is the train that family might have been put on. I can't.

  Reading my mind or maybe my expression, Audrey hisses, "We have to watch. Someone has to and speak of what they do."

  Chastened, I watch and listen. I watch the hands reach through the bars, I watch the soldiers smash the fingers of those who do, I watch a few brave souls sneak to the rail cars and throw bread into them. I listen to the prayers, the curses, the sobs. Tears gather in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I blink them back. My fingers grip the arms of the chair with white knuckles and I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from screaming.

  A lone voice rises from the other sounds, pure and clear as a hand-bell, swelling in volume as the people in the cars quiet. It's La Marseillaise. One by one, as the chorus begins, more join in, their voices swelling and shouting out each word in defiance. My chest tightens and tears fall free at the crescendo, my lips mouthing the words along with them.

  What. Foreign cohorts


  Would make the law in our homes.

  What! These mercenary phalanxes

  Would strike down our proud warriors.

  Great God. By chained hands

  Our brows would yield under the yoke

  Vile despots would have themselves

  The masters of our destinies.

  To arms, citizens,

  Form your battalions,

  Let's march, let's march.

  Let the impure blood

  Water our furrows.

  Tremble, tyrants and you traitors

  The shame of all parties,

  Tremble! Your parricidal schemes

  Will finally receive their reward.

  Everyone is a soldier to fight you

  If they fall, our young heroes,

  The earth will produce new ones,

  Ready to fight against you.

  To arms, citizens,

  Form your battalions,

  Let's march, let's march.

  Let the impure blood

  Water our furrows.

  The singing is drowned out by yelling soldiers and the engine. The train pulls away, smoke billowing and curling up towards the sky, leaving the rest of the song echoing in our minds and trembling on our lips. I wipe my wet face and raise my head high. The words are branded on my soul and I will never forget those brave people pouring out resistance on the way to their deaths. Was Rivka's family taken like this? Packed together like cattle? Did they sing too?

  This cannot stand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  AUDREY

  The song still plays in my ears as we pretend to be two girls with nothing to do and nowhere to be. We buy bread with our fake rations, standing in the longest queue I've ever been forced to wait in. I treat myself to a silver necklace with an Eiffel Tower charm hanging from it. Viola refuses to buy anything, saying it isn't our money. It's not like we have to bring back proof of our purchases to London. We can say we needed them for a bribe. Or for food or lodging.

 

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