Hostage

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Hostage Page 38

by Rachel Manija Brown


  Oh, why not. She lifted the engine off the bed, gathered up the bedding, and kicked her door open. Ross might as well sleep in comfort. She carried the bedding out to his favorite spot in the yard, surrounded by sheet metal and rusting iron, with an unimpeded view of the starry sky. A huge orange harvest moon rested on top of the stable roof. It was beautiful.

  She pulled the sheets and blanket straight and plumped up the pillow. Would Ross like to see the moon’s travel? She dragged the bedding around to the best vantage. When she turned to go, he was standing in front of her. Mia jumped.

  “I thought you might want to watch the moon set.” She indicated the bedding. “I mean, that’s why it’s positioned that way.”

  Ross looked down, then back at Mia, then down again. He sat on the bedding, then looked up again. “It’s really comfortable.” After another pause, he said, “Thanks.”

  Now that he was sitting there, she longed to lie there next to him. She could cuddle up, and she’d know exactly where he was. If she went back inside, she’d be peeking out every five minutes to make sure no one had kidnapped him.

  But he probably wouldn’t want her there. Anyone in town could walk by and see them lying there together. No, the sheet metal shielded them, but if anyone walked into the yard, they would see. Anyway, if Ross wanted her there, wouldn’t he have asked?

  Mia knew he wouldn’t ask, regardless of what he wanted. She scowled at him fiercely, trying to read his mind.

  “Good night.” She started toward the cottage.

  “Good night.” He sounded wistful.

  She spun around and marched back. “Mind if I sleep here with you? I mean, just sleep. Would that be okay?”

  Ross pulled her down beside him. “I wanted to ask you. I didn’t know if you’d like to.”

  “It would be so nice if I was telepathic.” She settled next to him, and he pulled the blanket over them both.

  They kissed for a few minutes, until Ross fell asleep mid-kiss. Mia snuggled close to his warm body and looked up at the stars. When she and Jennie were Dee’s age, they used to drag a blanket into Jennie’s yard and count shooting stars.

  His chest rose and fell softly, his ribs pressing against hers. He was as thin as he’d been when he’d first arrived in Las Anclas, chased by that bounty hunter. Three months of Dad and Jack’s cooking, all to vanish after a month of Voske’s royal prison.

  She peered at the nasty bruising and half-healed cuts on his face. What had Voske done to him? She was sure that Ross hadn’t told her half of it, even if he had told her the worst of it.

  She’d love to get her hands on that Voske. No, not her hands. Her flamethrower. A crossbow. One of Ross’s knives. One of Ross’s singing trees. How would Voske like his head on a pike? She imagined that, except somehow still alive, so he could see Las Anclas celebrating his defeat.

  Ross’s breathing sped up. The night was cool, but sweat beaded his face. Pressed so close against him, she felt it when every muscle in his body locked tight.

  She rolled away and sat up. “Ross. Ross, wake up.”

  His eyes flew open, but he didn’t seem to see her.

  “Ross.” Mia leaned forward. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  He grabbed her hand and hung onto it, then pulled her in close. He was shaking. She tried to wrap every part of herself around him, then worried that it would make him feel trapped. But he didn’t pull away.

  “Thanks.” His voice shook, too. “I was back in the hell cell. I couldn’t breathe.”

  Mia’s face was pressed into the side of his head. She kissed him on the ear. “You’re safe in Las Anclas. And the hell cells are underwater now, right?”

  “Right.” Ross let out a long sigh. “Well, they’re muddy, anyway.”

  After everything he’d gone through, he couldn’t even get a good night’s sleep. Thanks to Voske!

  “I want to kill that Voske,” Mia said. “I wish I could have rescued you.”

  “You did rescue me. You sent Kerry.”

  “Too late! I wanted to search for you immediately. I was sure you’d escaped. But that Preston wouldn’t let me.”

  “You were right,” said Ross. “They should have listened to you.”

  “It was the same when I wanted to let Kerry go. Nobody believed me when I said we should trust her, except Jennie and Yuki. Actually, I don’t think Yuki did believe me. I think he helped for a completely different reason.” As Mia spoke, years’ worth of anger boiled up in her: not only for Ross’s sake, but for herself. “I fought in the battle here.”

  “I remember,” Ross said quietly. “You saved my life.”

  “I thought it would make people see me differently. But it didn’t. Once the battle was over, everyone went right back to treating me the same way they always did, as if it had never happened. Nobody takes me seriously about anything but machines.”

  Ross stroked her hair. “I take you seriously. If you ever need me, I’ll back you up.”

  “Thanks.” Mia rested her head on his shoulder, and sighed her anger out. Ross was slowly relaxing as well, she could feel it. She began to enjoy being outside, under the stars, with Ross beside her.

  A shooting star blazed across the sky. “Did you see that? There, in the Seven Sisters.”

  “I always heard that one called the Seven Puppies,” Ross said.

  “Puppies!”

  “The story is, there was a dog who could transform himself into a handsome young man. One day he saw this beautiful woman . . .”

  Mia laughed.

  Chapter Fifty-Five. Las Anclas.

  Kerry

  “Try it under the window,” Kerry said, standing back.

  Brisa, Becky, Sujata, and Meredith picked up Kerry’s bed and set it under the window.

  Meredith flopped onto it. “I like this. Maybe I’ll move mine under the window.”

  Brisa dropped down beside Meredith, followed, more gracefully, by Sujata. Becky snuggled in next to Brisa. Kerry eyed the four girls piled on her bed. It was a sight that would never have been seen in the palace.

  “C’mon, Kerry.” Brisa shoved Meredith over. “Test it out.”

  Kerry smiled, aware that she was going through the motions. People—some people—had kindly offered her extra furnishings, and even this room on Singles Row, as if she was going to settle in Las Anclas. They’d done it even after she’d told them she planned to ride out as soon as . . . well, soon.

  “Lie on Brisa, Kerry.” Meredith crossed her arms behind her head. “She makes a nice soft pillow.”

  Kerry hesitated. But why not? She wedged herself into the tiny remaining space, lying mostly on top of Becky, and looked out the single window. It was nothing like the view from her bedroom in the palace, of gardens, woods, and the distant hills. All the south-facing rooms in the adobe bungalow for singles had windows facing a row of vegetable plots, and beyond that, the city wall.

  The plain bed had been finished that morning, and smelled like freshly cut wood and varnish. The table, chairs, and clothes trunk were even plainer, and had obviously served at least a generation of Las Anclas families. But people had offered it all freely, without looking over their shoulders.

  “I like it here,” Kerry said.

  “Good job, everybody.” Meredith started to applaud, and accidentally elbowed Brisa in the face.

  “Ow,” Brisa protested, and elbowed Meredith back.

  Meredith promptly started a shove fight, tipping Kerry onto the floor.

  “Sorry!” rose up in a four-part chorus.

  So this was what it was like to have friends. Kerry picked herself up and looked down at them. Then she wondered what her expression had been, because the laughing girls fell silent.

  Becky said softly, “Let’s let Kerry settle in.”

  The girls scrambled off the bed and headed for the door.

  “See you at Luc’s, Princess!” Brisa called.

  Kerry grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”

  “As a nickname?” B
risa asked hopefully.

  Sujata gave a delicate shudder. “If you insist upon a nickname, Brisa, I will think of a better one.”

  Brisa and Becky were the last to go, their clasped hands swinging between them. Kerry waved, then left the door open to air the room.

  Six weeks ago, she’d thought Becky pathetic, Brisa stupid, and both girls weak and sentimental. Now she saw Becky as sweet and thoughtful, and Brisa as playful and fun. It was strange how her perceptions had shifted.

  It was even stranger to think as herself as a part of a group, instead of its leader. She could analyze the initial motivations for the girls to be interested in her—Brisa was fascinated by princesses, and Becky had felt sorry for Kerry—but if that was all it was, they should have dropped her once she was out of jail and no longer a princess.

  Instead, Becky had introduced Kerry to her friend Sujata, Brisa had introduced Kerry to her friend Meredith, and the next thing Kerry knew, she was designing clothes with Sujata, sparring with Meredith, and dancing at Luc’s with them all.

  In Gold Point, Kerry had never had girl friends. Now she had these four, and Mia, too. Jennie wasn’t a friend, but she was clearly trying to be friendly.

  And Ross . . . Kerry grinned to herself. She’d assumed that the way he’d acted in Gold Point had been because he was a prisoner. But no. He still shied away from crowds and enclosed spaces and being the center of attention, and sudden movements still made him jump as if he’d been stabbed. But now he smiled and even laughed. And of all the teenagers who trained secretly in Sujata’s orchard, he was the most fun to spar with.

  And they were probably all going to die when Father repaired the damage to Gold Point and set out for revenge with an army at his back.

  Maybe she could persuade someone to leave with her, and save at least one life. Kerry sighed. There was a useless, sentimental fantasy. Ross had already said he wouldn’t go, and neither would anyone else. It was like the way Father controlled Gold Point: everyone had people they loved too much to leave.

  Except for Kerry, who had loved someone and left him anyway. She wished she at least knew if Santiago was all right. But that uncertainty was something she’d have to live with for the rest of her life. However long that was.

  Kerry pulled her mind away from that thought. She’d spend another week or so in Las Anclas, enjoying the company and pretending she didn’t know the future.

  She went to her backpack and took out the four personal possessions she’d brought from Gold Point, apart from her crown. First, her silk pillow, painted in swirls of blue and white, like clouds on a sunny day. She fluffed it up and set it on the patchwork quilt that Mrs. Riley had given her.

  Next were two books, one an ancient novel about heroes fighting a war in flying machines, and another, equally ancient, that she’d treasured since she was a little girl, full of color pictures of horses. She set them on a shelf.

  Finally, the red and black hanbok Mom had given to her, Kerry’s favorite, embroidered with the four-clawed dragon design that only the crown princess could wear. She hung it on the wall across from her bed, where she could see its bright colors.

  Had Sean taken anything personal with him when he’d disappeared? She hadn’t spotted anything missing when she’d checked his room, but maybe he’d taken something that Kerry had never known was important to him. Out of pure habit she glanced at the open doorway, and asked herself, Is Sean here?

  He was.

  Kerry jumped. “Sean!”

  He stepped inside and shut the door. Kerry launched herself across the room, and was locked in a bone-rattling hug. He swung her around in a circle, then set her down, and stepped back.

  “You’re taller,” they said simultaneously, and laughed.

  When Sean had left, he’d been sixteen and gawky. Now he was broad in the chest and had shoulders like a blacksmith. But his wide, sweet smile was the same as she remembered.

  “Sean, what are you doing here?” she asked. “You can’t have been in Las Anclas this whole time!”

  “No, of course not,” her brother replied. “I would have rescued you. But I didn’t know you’d been kidnapped until weeks after it had happened. Then I came straight here—and I missed you by a day.”

  “But where have you been?”

  “Catalina. I started off crewing on a fishing boat. Now I’m second mate, and I’ve got my own little pinnace. I could take you fishing in it. The ocean’s beautiful at night.”

  Kerry could hardly believe it. Sean—here! The last time she’d seen him, he’d had a golden crown atop his dense black curls, with a white silk shirt setting off his deep brown skin. Now he was bareheaded, with his hair in cornrows. His shirt and trousers were undyed cotton. But he’d never been happy when he’d worn his crown, only when he was dressed as plainly as he was now, and off in the desert watching wildlife. He used to do that for hours, long after Kerry had gotten bored.

  She smiled back at him. “I’d love to go sailing, but not if we’re going to watch jellyfish mating all night.”

  Sean cracked a laugh. “It’s fun. But I’ll spare you.”

  “Why did you leave? I’ve always wondered.”

  The humor died out of his face. “From what I’ve heard, the same reason you decided to break Ross Juarez free.”

  “You know about that?” Kerry exclaimed. “Oh, of course, you overheard people here talking.”

  Sean shook his head. “I heard it in Gold Point.”

  Kerry leaped up and grabbed him. “You were in Gold Point? How’s Santiago?”

  “He’s fine,” Sean said quickly. “In fact, Father promoted him to personal bodyguard.”

  Kerry’s legs went wobbly with relief. She sat down hard on the bed.

  Sean joined her. “When I heard you’d escaped, I decided to make sure you arrived okay. But I missed you again. By the time I got there, you and Ross Juarez had blown up the dam and disappeared, and half of Gold Point was under six inches of mud.” He grinned at her. “You made a much bigger splash when you left than I did. Literally.”

  Kerry laughed. “So what’s happening at—” She stopped herself before she could say the word home. When would it stop hurting to think about it?

  “It’s a mess. No one got killed in the flood, but there were some broken ankles and stuff like that from stumbling around in the dark. And all that water woke up every desert bug, reptile, and amphibian that doesn’t hatch or metamorphose or emerge until there’s a big rainfall. Gold Point is swarming with creatures I’ve never even heard of.” A familiar enthusiasm sparked Sean’s old grin. “It was fascinating. I spotted a yellow frog that had a symbiotic relationship with an armored—“

  Kerry whacked him in the ribs. “Forget the zoology lesson. Did you see Father?”

  The grin vanished. “I didn’t have the nerve to go anywhere near him, but everyone was talking about how furious he was.”

  “What about Santiago?”

  Sean shook his head. “I avoided anyone who might look for me, especially him. He was always good at spotting me. But the gossip is, when he heard that you’d dumped him for that prisoner, he went on this incredible rant about what a selfish, shallow, ruthless, disloyal person you were, and how he was sorry he’d ever laid eyes on you, and he wanted to lead the search party so he could be the one to shoot you dead.”

  Kerry winced.

  “I assume that’s what you told him to say,” Sean added.

  “More or less.” She recalled Santiago echoing her words: I loved you. You broke my heart.

  Sean patted her hand. “He’ll be all right. Will you?”

  “I miss him,” Kerry sighed. “I wanted him to come with me, but he didn’t dare. What about my mom? Father didn’t blame her, did he?”

  “No. He would never do anything to her. The technicians and soldiers and grooms and the guards at the gate got off with reprimands for the rank and file, and a session at the flogging post for patrol captains. The only people he beheaded were the hell cell guards.”


  Kerry spoke a beat ahead of Sean, quoting Father: “‘If too many people bear responsibility to execute them all, select the ones who are most expendable.’”

  She’d told Ross no one would die, but she’d known that Father was bound to make an example of someone. Still, it could have been much worse. Those guards thought torture was a sport.

  Then Kerry remembered how she’d laughed along with them. Had she been the only one who had feigned cruelty to protect herself?

  Sean went on, “Father didn’t even punish Luis.”

  “Why would he? Luis followed his orders.”

  Sean gave her a funny look. “Father told Luis to heal the prisoner?”

  “What?” Kerry exclaimed. “He can heal, too?”

  “You didn’t know that? Yes, he apparently healed Ross accidentally and didn’t even realize it had happened until afterward, when everyone was trying to figure out how he’d recovered enough to blow up the dam.”

  Everything that had perplexed Kerry on that night now made sense.

  Sean went on, “Luis healed Father’s arm, and Father was so pleased that he appointed him the royal healer.” Sean’s gaze fell upon her hanbok, with the royal colors. “Have you spoken to Paco?”

  “He pretends I don’t exist. Have you?”

  “I’ve only seen him from a distance,” Sean said. “I know some people here look for me. Scary, isn’t it? How much he looks like Father?”

  “We all look like Father.”

  “But there’s something else. Something about his eyes . . . No.” Sean shook his head. “I’m not going to guess, and I’m certainly not going to judge. Listen, Kerry, I risked coming into town to ask if you want to move to Catalina with me.”

  Kerry’s breath caught. She could have a family again. Then, reluctantly, she said, “Pru’s hawks can’t see you, but they can see me. If I go to Catalina, Father will come after me, and then he’ll find you. My plan was to head north until I hit territory where no one’s even heard of Gold Point.”

  “Father won’t come after anyone,” Sean replied. “Word got out about the dam blowing up, and Lake Perris decided it was the perfect time for a revolution.”

 

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