by Shannon Hale
She slipped through the break in the wall and without looking around began to walk. She was tempted to scurry like a mouse, hang her head, dodge from shadow to shadow. But she kept her head straight and tried to walk with purpose—her stride long and confident, shoulders back, as in the lessons in Poise from the academy. A girl who walks like that has nothing to hide. A girl who walks like that is someone no one would dare harass.
Miri took the long route off the reed island, as if she were in no hurry whatsoever. Leaping off the island and into hip-deep water, she splashed through to drier ground. She did not head straight to the linder house but traveled through the tall reed beds to hide from village view. Caimans were rare around the busy reed islands, but the farther she walked, the more dangerous the turf. The sound of every slosh sent chills down her arms. Alone and knee-deep, she was easy prey for caiman or soldier.
She could no longer bear to walk casually. Tension was tight and singing inside her. She ran.
Felissa and Astrid were doing the washing outside the house when Miri stumbled past.
“What happened to your hair?” Felissa asked.
Miri threw herself inside, crouching low in the center of the house, out of view of the windows. The moment Felissa entered, her mouth opened, frightened by what she sensed from Miri.
“It’s not safe here,” said Miri. “And somehow I have to fix everything and I don’t know what to—”
She started to cry, sitting there in Dogface’s dirty tunic and dripping mud onto the white floor. Felissa sat, put her arms around Miri, and cried with her, as if she could not help it.
Astrid brought Miri water to wash her face. Each time Miri pulled her hand through her hair, the abrupt end shocked her. Her first haircut, delivered by a bandit.
They stayed inside all day and ate cold bread. Sus asked Miri questions like “How far is it to Greater Alva by water?” and “Explain the tides to me.” Miri could see no escape route. The road was watched, and the Storans had taken possession of every boat.
Miri did not think she could sleep, intending to stay up and keep watch. But the events of the day exhausted her and she fell unconscious moments after lying down.
She was in the middle of a feverish dream about running when a shout roused her. Miri stumbled to her feet, clutching the caiman pole she’d fallen asleep holding.
A figure was standing in the threshold, all shadow in the moonless night. Had Jeffers returned?
In a practiced maneuver, the sisters tossed pole loops over the person’s head, binding his arms to his body. He struggled and called out, and Miri knew his voice.
“Wait!” said Miri.
It was Peder.
Chapter Seventeen
Take your time, sundown
Take your slow, sweet time
I’m not ready to say farewell
This day has been too fine
So wait around, sundown
And give me a bit more time
Miri tore the caiman loops off Peder and checked his face for lash marks and his shirt for rips. She wanted to just grab him and hold him and rest her head against his chest and smell his closeness. His warmness. His Peder-ness.
“You’re safe,” he said, gripping her arms as if he could not believe she was there unless he was touching her.
His pants were dripping muddy water, his shirt was stained, and his curly hair was stuck with bits of plants. She laughed and pressed his hand between her own and wished she had him alone where they could talk for hours and tell each other everything, everything.
But there was a panic pulsing around him. And soldiers on the islands. Dogface telling her to fix it, her braid in his hand. A sword stained with blood.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“A ship,” he said. “Stora seized almost all Danlandian boats. Some merchant ships that escaped have kept running trade.”
“I imagine wartime trade pays well,” Miri said.
“Exactly. The risk is high but so are the prices. So I found one of the black market merchant ships and persuaded it to bring me here.”
Miri was about to ask how, but from his tone she suspected it was a long story.
“We had to travel from Asland close to shore,” said Peder. “Nearly ran aground a couple of times, but we made it.”
“I haven’t heard from almost anyone since coming here,” said Miri. “I tried to send letters.”
“I didn’t stay long on Mount Eskel. I was only home for a week before I went crazy with worry and told my parents I was going after you. I walked down the mountain.”
“You did what?”
“Well, waiting for the traders would take too long. I was on my own for a few days before I found a cart man headed to Asland. You survived out here all right?”
Miri ignored the question. “You walked down the mountain. To find me.”
“Well … yes,” he said. “Wait—your hair! How did I not notice your hair?”
“Because there wasn’t much left to notice,” she said.
He fingered the shoulder-length ends. “When this is all over and you go back to Asland, those noble girls will see your hair, decide it’s the new fashion, and cut theirs off too.”
Miri laughed. “Ah yes, I’ve always been the height of fashion—and a fashionable height. The noble girls would cut off their tallness to match my shortness too if they could.”
“They probably would.”
Miri’s eyes stung, and she realized she’d barely blinked, not wanting to miss his face for an instant. Peder was here.
“You two are sweet on each other,” Felissa said. She was resting her chin on her hands, a smile on her face.
Miri blushed and took a step back.
“I can feel it, so strong,” said Felissa. “Keep talking. Watching you two is like hearing those stories you make up—”
“Felissa,” Miri said, warning in her voice.
“—about the boy who is sweet on the girl, only she doesn’t know—”
“Felissa—”
“—because she’s too busy learning at an academy, but he carves her a hawk out of linder. And they go walking together. And he holds her hand—oh! I love that story!”
Peder raised one eyebrow.
Miri’s face felt so hot she was certain she was bright red. She gave Peder a stern look—a warning not to betray her.
Peder took her hand again. Then he put his arms around her. And then they were kissing. She felt her bare toes curl, her hand grip the back of his shirt. For a few moments, Miri conveniently forgot that they were not alone. When she peeked, all three girls were watching, mouths open.
“Are you two … betrothed?” Sus asked.
“Um … almost,” said Miri. “As soon as we get home to our families.”
“People fall in love in the tales,” Sus said. “I didn’t think it happened in real life.”
Miri glanced at Astrid and caught the stricken expression on her face. Miri let go of Peder.
“Sorry … um, what happened when you got to Asland?”
“I went to the palace, but I made the mistake of meeting with the chief delegate before seeking out Britta and Steffan. The chief delegate said your task was too important for distractions, forbade me from coming to you, and escorted me out of the palace. I tried to get a message to Britta and Steffan, hoping they would pay my passage, but I think the chief delegate ordered the royal guard to keep me out. So I stayed in Asland all winter working at Gus’s shop, carving stone to earn my passage. I’d nearly enough saved when Stora came by ship.”
“By ship?” Miri asked. Stora had invaded Eris by land, and the small country was brimming with Storan infantry just over Danland’s west border. “I would have expected a land invasion.”
“So was all of Danland. No one was looking for Stora to come by sea, and no one was expecting to lose Asland.”
“But the cannons?” asked Miri. A fort at the mouth of Asland Harbor held many cannons, and in the past it had easily defende
d the harbor from sea attacks.
“Somehow Stora took the fort or else sabotaged the cannons before attacking,” said Peder. “Asland depended too heavily on that protection. The Storan ships just floated into the harbor, unloaded an army on the docks, and marched into the city. The fighting was over in a few days. Storan soldiers have set up a camp in Commoner Park and a second camp on The Green.”
“So they have the palace surrounded,” said Miri. “The Danlandian army—”
“Is mostly in Hunter province,” said Peder. “They were stationed on the border in case of a land invasion. The army’s surely heard by now that Stora captured Asland, but it takes a long time for a large army to march. And in the meantime, Stora is laying siege to the palace. When I left, the king, queen, Steffan, and Britta were still trapped inside.”
Miri pressed her hand to her heart.
“No,” said Peder, guessing what she would say next. “I’m here to get you four to safety—away from Storan occupation. Leave Britta’s rescue to the Danlandian army. Right now, your safety is my duty.”
“So, we’re leaving?” Astrid asked.
Silence answered. Miri looked at the little house, as empty as a seashell and white as the moon. About six months ago she’d barged her way inside only to faint on the floor. Now it felt like a tiny home, her own actions soaking into the stone, joining a hundred or more years of memories.
Felissa was gazing at Miri, and Miri wondered how much of her thoughts Felissa was able to untangle from her echoed emotions.
“I’m sorry,” Miri said.
Felissa’s smile was brave. She reached out to take Miri’s hand. With her other she held Sus’s hand, who in turn took Astrid’s. They all squeezed hands at the same time, making them laugh.
Astrid looked up. “Creator god, keep Mama’s bones, and the bones of our house. Keep our memories. Keep us together.”
“Keep us,” Felissa and Sus repeated.
For a moment, that little crooked stone house, its plain door open and warped on its hinges, seemed like the finest chapel. Miri’s heart felt large and full.
“Keep us,” Miri and Peder said.
He took her hand.
The girls gathered the few things they would take with them. Astrid set their extra traps and caiman poles outside the house so villagers would feel free to claim them.
“Oh,” said Felissa when she saw them, and Miri guessed she only then realized they were leaving for good.
Astrid was the last to step out of the house. She laid her hand on the smooth white wall and whispered, “ ’Bye, Ma.”
The moment Miri stepped out of the house, any illusion of safety crumpled. With no moon in the sky, the entire world was in shadow. Even swamp-born girls did not venture water-side at night. Things hunted at night, things with wide eyes that could strike true by starlight. Miri trudged through water sometimes rising as high as her chest. The brushing of water plants against her legs felt like the cold, smooth bodies of snakes.
In the direction of the sea, the tides were always changing the land. There was no path to memorize, no sure way. But that was where Peder had hidden the small boat he had rowed from the merchant ship.
On the village islands, fires glowed from lanterns. Voices murmured, buzzing low over the water like dragonflies. Since the Storan soldiers had come, playful night music no longer called out from the village.
But tonight someone sang—deep and sad, a ballad of endings. “I’m not ready to say farewell, this day has been too fine. So wait around, sundown, and give me a bit more time.”
“That’s the truth,” Astrid whispered.
Fat Hofer was likely still sitting with his back to the chapel, looking dull and uninterested so that the Storans would not bother about him, and yet always paying attention. Maybe he noticed the hearth fire extinguished in the linder house and guessed what they were doing. Maybe he was, in his way, saying good-bye.
“Good-bye, Hofer,” Miri whispered.
She felt a sting of guilt, but she was no help to him trapped in Lesser Alva. Fix this, Dogface had said. She had to leave to try. Last in line, she dragged herself a little faster through the thick water, trying to catch up with the others.
Something sploshed behind her. Miri’s heart startled like a frog. Her feet, already cold from the water, felt hard as ice.
“Are we near your boat?” she whispered to Peder.
“I think so,” he whispered back. “I wasn’t sure if the Storans had set guards by your house, so I didn’t dare drag the boat too close. I tied it to some reeds. I can’t see it …”
He poked one of the sharpened sticks they had brought from the house into the reed beds, hoping to hit the hardness of the hidden boat. Sus, Felissa, and Astrid had sticks as well. They fanned out from Peder, sweeping the surface of the black water.
Miri stayed put. Till they found the boat, there was no use moving more than needed and risking falling into a pit. Or rustling in the water and attracting predators. Everywhere she looked, the glimmer of starlight on water resembled eyes. After a few moments she could hear Peder sweeping for the boat but no longer see his shape.
Again the sploshing. It sounded more definite, rhythmic. Had someone followed them out? A troop of soldiers would make more noise.
Another definite splash.
“Did you hear that?” Miri whispered.
But the girls were no longer near enough to hear her.
Miri stared into the dark, willing the vague shapes into forms that would make sense. A shadow sliding toward her. A boat, someone punting. Starlight touched his eyes. Jeffers.
Their noise had attracted a predator indeed.
Miri’s scream caught in her throat, afraid of Jeffers, afraid of alerting the soldiers, too afraid to move.
“My town,” Jeffers snarled. “My territory! You’re the thief. I’ve got meat here!”
He lifted his pole and the barbed, forked end glinted. A fishing spear. The water felt like stone around her legs, the mud beneath sucking at her feet. She held no stick. She could not run.
There was nothing between her and his spear except a sharp, crackling sound and a brief burn of light.
Jeffers hunched over, a gurgle crawling out of his throat. He dropped the spear. His eyes looked beyond Miri, and then he fell facedown in the water.
Miri shoved both hands against her mouth to stifle the scream finally rising. She backed away and into Peder. He was holding a pistol.
“It worked it worked it worked,” Peder was mumbling. “It’s so wet out here I didn’t know if the gunpowder was ruined I didn’t know I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
Peder dropped the pistol into the water. He did not take his eyes away from Jeffers. Miri hugged him tight, wanting him to feel her warmth. She put her hands on his face and looked at him till he pulled his gaze from Jeffers.
“He would have killed me,” she said.
Peder exhaled very slowly. “I’d do it again, Miri. Of course I would. And it was the right thing to do. I know.”
“But … ,” she said.
“But I don’t want to. You … you’re a warrior, I think. In a way, you are. But I’m not. I don’t want to be that kind of a person.”
She nodded.
Astrid moved toward them, pulling the low, flat boat. It was painted black and made of wooden planks, not reeds—clearly not of Lesser Alva.
“We should go,” she said, her voice tight. Surely the noise from the pistol would attract the soldiers.
Miri climbed into the boat after Sus, her muscles trembling with the slight effort, already spent with fear. There had been warning in Astrid’s tone, and Miri realized she was worried about more than soldiers. Jeffers’s blood would attract caimans.
They used their sticks to push against the ground through the waters. It was unbearably slow. The clawing tips of plants tugged at them, and unexpected rises in land would make the boat come to a stop, and they would all have to get out and drag it back into water.
Boats
with lanterns were already sliding around the area where Peder had shot Jeffers.
As soon as they entered water deeper than the sticks, Peder took the one oar and rowed them out to open water. He sat at the bow, his arms and shoulders working stroke after powerful stroke.
“I can take a turn,” Miri whispered.
Peder shook his head and kept rowing. Miri thought he needed something to do with his arms just then, some way to use his strength that was not destructive.
He moved them around the last of the fingers of marshland and toward the open channel of the sea. The water finally became smooth under the starlight—no more reeds or water plants. The smell of it changed too—briny, sharp, cold, less alive. Miri faced backward, keeping an eye on the pricks of light that might be soldier-held lanterns. Then the night swallowed those too, and Miri could see nothing of Lesser Alva. All she could hear was the splash of the oars and Peder’s breathing, hard and dry.
After a time, Miri turned around and spotted a new point of light directly ahead. Her heart rattled in her ribs. Had the Storans chased them from the other side? But Peder pulled in the oar, letting the boat drift, and made three soft, throaty calls.
Over the water rode the answer, as exact as an echo.
Peder rowed on. When they reached the single light, Miri saw it belonged to a lantern dangling over the side of a ship. A crew of faces stood at the railing.
Someone extinguished the lantern, and hooked ropes tumbled down. Peder attached them to the rowboat, and the ship’s crew pulled the girls up. Hands took Miri’s arms and waist and helped her out of the rowboat and onto the deck.
A ship full of men, none in uniform, most with pistols, all with sabers. No country flag flying. Miri choked on an inhale. Peder had brought her aboard a pirate ship.
Chapter Eighteen
Have you ever seen a girl in red?
Yes, I’ve seen a girl in red
With long black curls upon her head?
High lo, there she goes now
Have you ever seen so swift a sail?
Yes, I’ve seen so swift a sail
With a mermaid carved upon her bow?
High lo, there she goes now
