Raging Star

by Moira Young

Jest … please, I says. All I want is fer you to tell me what I gotta do to finish this.

  I’m so sorry, she says. I cain’t.

  A chill runs over my skin. Of course you can, I says. It’s my destiny. You told me so yerself. You said long before I was born a train of events was set in motion. You said all my roads lead to DeMalo an you was right, they have. An you told me—an my pa did too an he warn’t much of a star reader—you both said, all these people would need me an they do. An you said I mustn’t give up an I don’t. Yer grandfather knew about me. He gave you his bow to give to me. So, I don’t unnerstand. I jest need to know this one … this one last thing becuz I hafta git it right. So I need you—please—to tell me … please tell me what I need to do, Auriel. If this is my destiny, you must know.

  Things ain’t the same as they was, she says. That’s why the tumult in the stars. You’ve changed so much, Saba. Yer changin all the time, so quickly. You ain’t the same girl you was at the Snake. You ain’t the same person you was two days ago, yesterday, this mornin. Who you are is yer destiny. As you change, so it changes. Do you see? Yer remakin yer destiny, rewritin it as you go, every moment of every day.

  I am?

  Yes, she says. The future is yers to shape.

  I make my destiny myself, I says.

  By the choices you make, she says.

  But—there’s too much at stake, I says. So many lives. I dunny what DeMalo’s got planned. Here’s all these people an—How will I know if I’m doin the right thing?

  The right thing is to do what yer doin, she says. Take one step at a time. Moment by moment, step by step, that’s how you got here. That’s how you’ll git there. An in every moment, as you choose, stay true to yerself. Who you really are. What you believe. You ain’t like nobody else.

  There’s silence between us a long moment.

  That’s all you got to say to me, I says. When I ask fer yer help, when I need to know, when—

  I hafta stop fer a moment. The hot tightness of fear has my voice.

  This ain’t nuthin, I whisper.

  It’s everythin, she says.

  My head’s poundin. The hotwind circles the tent. I can hear the chatter of voices outside. I feel distant from myself. Like I ain’t in my body. The tent walls bluster an threaten. In an out. They close in on me. There’s a roarin sound in my ears.

  I stand. So does she. She reaches up to my face. Her fingers rest on my birthmoon tattoo.

  Never lose sight of what you believe in, she says. Never, no matter what happens. What one person does affects the many. We’re all bound together, Saba. All threads in a single garment of destiny.

  As I halt from the tent, the wind blasts at me, hot an gritty. I’m numb. I cain’t believe it. Auriel cain’t help me. I bin countin on her to see my way clear. Two nights to the blood moon. Two nights.

  What now?

  What do I do?

  The voices shout at me from the bottom of the hill. Everybody that was there when I went in to see Auriel is still hangin around. Her people. My Free Hawk gang. All waitin, eager to be told what comes next. Where they’re goin. What’s gonna happen. My heart starts to pound. I need to think. I head away from them, fast as I can.

  They come rushin after, yellin questions at me.

  When do we fight? cries a man.

  We don’t, I says loudly. I don’t turn to look. I keep walkin.

  We need guns, calls another man. Bows an arrows.

  No weapons, I says. This ain’t no blood vengeance.

  We got guns in plenty. It’s Creed’s voice. More’n we’ll ever need, right here beneath our feet. Tunnels full of ’em.

  I turn to face them. I said, no weapons! I yell.

  A great furore erupts. Then why’re we here? We’ll go it alone! No weapons? That’s crazy.

  I raise my voice to be heard above the noise. It’s the smartest an quickest way to win this fight!

  Climb up where they can see you. Here! says Slim. On the cart!

  Peg’s little cart stands nearby. The one I rode here in with Manuel. I hesitate a moment, but Slim an Tommo’s already seized me by the elbows. They hoist me into the back of it. Then the crowd’s surrounded me an before I can pause to think, I’m launchin headlong into speech.

  There won’t be no fightin, I says. There ain’t no need to. At least, not the kinda fight you think. The smartest an quickest way to win New Eden is not to fight at all.

  I turn as I speak, so’s everyone can hear me.

  DeMalo makes out that he’s powerful, I says. Unbeatable. I’m here to tell you that he ain’t. He’s weak an grows weaker by the day. He don’t know it. He cain’t see it. An it’s happenin right unner his nose.

  I look out on the sea of faces. They’re silent. Listenin. The hotwind whips at our clothes an hair. I feel the red hot risin high in me. But not to fight. To convince them.

  The people of New Eden are slaves, I says. Each an every one, make no mistake. They may not wear iron collars an iron chains, though many in New Eden bear that injustice. But they all wear the slave bonds of fear. So long as we live in fear of this tyrant, we’ll always be his slave. Right now, at this moment, the people of New Eden are castin off the slave chains of fear. Yes. Yer children, yer friends an yer neighbours. DeMalo don’t know it. DeMalo cain’t see it. An it’s happenin right unner his nose.

  I raise my voice. I lower it. I speak slowly, then fast. My hands reach out to them. All eyes stay upon me.

  How’re they doin it? I says. They’re comin back together is how. Quietly, quickly, an stronger, much stronger, than ever they were before. They’re mendin what he broke apart. What did he break? Family. Friendship. True community. Why did he break it? Becuz he fears it. Becuz it’s stronger than anythin he could ever make. It’s stronger than he could ever hope to be.

  Here in New Eden, they’re joinin hands once more. In peace an hope an strength. Mother an child, father an child, sister an brother, slave an slave, neighbour an neighbour. Joinin their hands in true community. Becuz hands joined together break iron chains. But they need more hands. They need yer hands.

  Everybody here today. Every man, woman an child. All of you. An me. Our destinies have brought us together. In this place, at this time, to end this tyrant’s rule. To end the rule of all tyrants over us. We cast off our fear. We cast off our chains. We move forward in hope with joined hands. Tonight we go east. To freedom. An the future!

  The crowd erupts. A thunderous great roar shakes the air. Then they’re cheerin an whistlin an clappin an reachin up to grab my hands.

  I stand there. I’m dazed by the heat an the noise. The red hot’s suddenly gone an I’m altogether done in. I only jest finished speakin. But I cain’t fer the life of me remember what I said. Tommo an Manuel help me down from the cart.

  I ain’t never heard speechin like that before, says Manuel.

  Roustabout stuff, says Slim. A bit short on detail but—

  Gather our crew, we’ll do that now, I says.

  We take ourselfs off to a quiet place among the rocks. I stay on my feet. I think best on my feet.

  I tell ’em what I’ve planned. That Manuel, Creed, Ash an Slim will work together. They’ll go with sixty of these folk, the strongest men an women, into the heart of New Eden. They should be slipped back onto farms where it’s certain they’ll be safe an welcome. One or two of ’em fer each farm, no more. The idea is to plant ’em around New Eden as wide as possible. They should work, help with chores, become part of daily life. Well away from any Tonton or nosy pokes. We’re bringin back together what DeMalo’s put asunder.

  They perch on odd-shaped rocks or sprawl on the burnt yellow moss that covers the ground. They’re all watchin me. Listenin. There ain’t no sign of dissent.

  I’ll leave the details to you, I says. But you’ll need to work fast.

  How fast? says Creed.

  We need ’em in place by the blood moon, I says.

  Tall order, says Manuel. Not impossible.

 
Ash takes a last draw from a redclover ciggy stub. Whadda we do when they’re all set up? she says.

  Make sure it stays quiet an trouble free, I says. I’ll git word to you as soon as I can.

  Wait fer the big gawdamn rumble, right? says Slim.

  Yeah, I says. That’s the one.

  He sat there with the rest of them. No one looking at him would be able to tell how alarmed he was. He’d been so sure this idea would go nowhere. But it was gathering speed. Growing, spreading, out of control. If he didn’t move fast, his plans would be in ruins.

  This course they were on was dangerous. Way beyond reckless. It bore all the marks of Jack’s hand. She was so in his sway, she was doing his work for him while he hid in the shadows.

  It was time to make his move. To finish this. To finish Jack.

  Where you headed, Saba? says Molly. She puts her arm through mine an walks alongside. Lugh an Tommo’s with her. I shake her off.

  We need to start right away fer Edenhome, I says. Me an these boys an … whatshisname, that guy. We gotta find a way in there. It’s the last thing I gotta set up. His little girl might be there, she’s Emmi’s age. Webb Reno, that’s his name, he’s gonna help us. I gotta speak to him.

  We’ll let him know, she says. Right now, you need to rest. Yer tired, my darlin.

  An in that moment the concern in her lovely face so instantly, so painfully reminds me of my mother that the rush of lost memory makes me dizzy. They dive to steady me.

  Leave be, I says. I shrug ’em off.

  Molly says to Lugh, You do know she ain’t bin sleepin.

  We stopped fer curfew. I could swear she slept, he says.

  Saba, says Molly. Did you sleep last night?

  Yes, I lie.

  She’s lyin, says Tommo.

  A woman starts to rise from a pit in the ground. Right in front of us, at our feet. She’s got long fair hair. Her name sounds in my heartbeat. Ma, I says. I take a step towards her.

  You know yer ferbid to go down there, she says. That’s twice now, Davy, you got a swat comin. You better not of touched nuthin. She’s climbed out an set a lit lamp on the ground. She hoists out a wriggly little boy by his armpits. She notices us. Her face creases in dismay. So sorry, she says. He won’t do it agin. She snatches the lamp an rushes him off, scoldin him fiercely as they go.

  I step, step to the edge of the pit. I look down, down to its blackness. It yawns

  rough an narrow an deep. I know what lies within. The body in rusted armour. Laid out in the pit full length. The head wrapped around with a blood red shawl.

  The wind flurries the shawl ties about me. I bend towards the dark. Tip my heavy head to the hush of cool earth.

  There’s blood in there. Look, I says.

  It rises in a tide from the red heart of the earth. If I step in, it’ll take me. It’ll drown me.

  There ain’t no blood, that’s a gun store, says Lugh.

  Him an Tommo take my arms. They move me away.

  I got somethin to help. Come with me, says Molly.

  Not long, she kept saying. A few hours. No more.

  It ain’t ezzack, y’know, said Molly. I’ll do my best. From a tiny stone bottle she tipped the merest, barest blink of a teardrop. This is pure silence, she whispered.

  No dreams, said Saba.

  Not a one, I promise.

  Molly weakened it three times in water. Saba drained the cup, then lay down. Short minutes later she was out. She slept like a child, curled on her side, bathed in a soft pool of lantern light. The dark fans of her lashes lay heavy on her cheeks. The little carved-out rock den hushed around them, dry and cool.

  That was fast, he said.

  An I hardly gave her nuthin. She ain’t bin sleepin or eatin, it’s hit her hard, said Molly. I figger it’ll take her through the night. She knelt beside her, arranging the blanket around her shoulders. She smoothed away the tiny frown between her eyes. It’s a heavy burden she bears, Molly said. There’s few could do what she’s doin. I couldn’t. Nor could you, I warrant.

  Nero had flown into the den with them. He hovered about Saba, making anxious crow noises. Molly picked him up. I know, she said. You jest wanna help. But you gotta leave her now, she’s sleepin.

  C’mere, Nero. He took him from her. He stayed quiet in his arms as he smoothed his feathers.

  After his fright at Painted Rock, they’d had to work hard to win back Nero’s trust. The men, that is. Softly softly had finally won him around. An offensive of titbits, coaxing and gentle words. They’d all been at it, so he didn’t stand out from the rest. It seemed Nero didn’t know who’d snatched him. Only that it was a man. He was still ashamed, but relieved.

  You must be hungry. Molly smiled at him. Follow the cookin smells an somebody’ll feed you, she said. I’ll stay here with Saba.

  This was it. His heart quickened. I won’t be long, he said.

  A woman gave him some damper and corn porridge. He found a quiet corner, away from curious eyes. While Nero ate his fill, he took four things from the pouch on his belt. A length of string, a thin peg of charcoal, the cherrybark scroll she’d dropped in the woods and a small roll of oilskin.

  Molly had handed him a gift. Not just a few hours’ sleep, but a whole night. It was late afternoon. They’d be on the move again the moment Saba woke. That would probably be around dawn. His timing would be tight. But he had to chance it. He was depending on Nero’s speed. And his need to get back to Saba as soon as possible. Luckily, the changeable hotwind had died. So that wouldn’t slow him down.

  He pondered for a bit. He made a few careful marks on the scroll. He drew the same marks on the piece of paper rolled inside the oilskin. After he’d rolled the skin back up and tied it with string, he put it safely in his pouch.

  Then he waited till Nero had finished and wiped his beak clean on a grass tuft. You missed some, he said, and picked a fleck of corn from his head. As he tied the scroll to Nero’s leg, he noticed that his fingers were trembling. He stood, cradling Nero’s warmth to his chest.

  Find Jack. Nero, find Jack, he said.

  Then he gave him up to the air. The great black wings began to row steadily. Onward, westward, he watched. As their future beat towards the sun’s red blaze.

  NIGHT TWO

  ONCE THEY WERE LYING ON THEIR HARD BUNKS, BEFORE SLEEP TOOK hold, Emmi did as she’d done last night. Her first night at Edenhome. She spoke quietly but clearly, so every girl in the bunkhouse could hear. She said,

  My name is Emmi. I come from Silverlake. My folks was Willem an Allis. I got a sister an a brother. He’s got blue eyes, the same as me.

  She started them off, then they took it in turns, up and down the bunks and around and along, keeping strictly to order. Their name, where they came from, who their people were. The more timid ones whispered so you could hardly hear.

  It’s what Mercy had done, when she was in the slave gangs. She’d talked to Mercy a lot. Told her how afraid she’d been when the Pinches snatched them. When Saba was taken from her to fight in the Cage. When the Tonton took her prisoner to Resurrection. Mercy said she’d been afraid when they slaved her. Saying her name and where she was from helped her remember who she was. And it helped the other slaves too. It helped keep them strong. The kids here were prisoners as much as the slaves.

  Last night, as they’d settled in for sleep, she knew she had to do the same. Even though such talk was forbidden. They had no family now but Mother Earth. They only lived to serve her. Emmi had no idea if the girls could be trusted. If anyone told on her she’d be set for a beating. Like the boy at supper yesterday. He couldn’t sit for the pain, couldn’t eat. He was made to stand at his place, red-eyed from crying, a warning to them all. So, before she could lose her nerve, she just dived in and did like Mercy. When she’d finished, there was a long silence. Then, from the bunk below, Nell began to speak who she was. After her, the rest followed on.

  And nobody told. Not yet, anyway. But secrets would be hard to keep in this place. The
only safe place for a secret was inside your own head, shared with no one. If only they knew. She had the biggest secret of all inside hers.

  Soon Saba would come. The Angel of Death was coming to free them. To take them back to their families.

  As their voices murmured in the dark, her hand went to it cautiously. That very afternoon, she’d been sent for a hammer. And there it was, in a dark corner on the floor of the shed. It must have fallen and nobody noticed. In the leap of a heartbeat, it was in her hand and she’d tucked it in the waist of her unders. Now she pushed it out of sight, into the space between her bunk and the wall. Her stolen treasure. A wire cutter.

  Another big secret that no one could know.

  I come to with a stone-heavy head. Dull an dull-witted. Fer a long moment, I cain’t place where I am. There’s the wide sound of rainfall. The smell of damp cool. The wash of grey dawnlight on smooth pale stone walls. I’m in the den. Nass Camp. Dismay jolts me. I must of slept through the night. I told Molly clearly, a couple of hours, no more. She’s still here. Sat on the ground, leaned aginst the wall with closed eyes. Has she bin watchin on me the whole time? She starts awake at the first sounds of my stirrin.

  It’s rainin, I says.

  Jest started, she says.

  You coshed me, I says. Slowly, stupidly, I start to sit.

  No, no, don’t move. She props me up aginst her shoulder. Here, drink this. It’ll help clear yer head. I sip from the cup she holds to my lips. It’s water. With the faintest hint of somethin bitter. That dose I gave you was nuthin, she says. But you was on yer last legs. It hit you hard.

  I says, One dose to sleep, another to wake. How often d’you do this, Moll?

  She gives me brown-eyed blankness. I know that look. I should mind my own business. Drink it all down, she says.

  I drain the cup, to my dry throat’s relief. How often d’you do it? I says.

  Hardly at all these days, she says. I save it fer the big stuff. Y’know—she gives a little shrug—when life jest gits too much to bear. You do look better fer a night of rest.