Rebel Heart

by Moira Young

  I keep tellin you, Saba, Jack ain’t gonna show at the Big Water. He’s long gone. A guy like him’s only in it fer hisself. Once he’s got what he wants, he moves on.

  I shut my ears to Lugh’s voice in my head.

  He’ll be there, I says. You know Jack keeps his word.

  Yeah, she says. You miss him, I can tell.

  Without thinkin, my hand goes to the heartstone around my neck. But of course, it ain’t there. Not really, I says.

  Yer such a bad liar, she says. Anyways, I seen you an him love kissin that time. You had yer hands on his—

  Shut up, Em!

  Well, I miss him, she says. I miss him heaps. I wish he was here right this very second. Jack always makes things okay. Even when they’re real bad.

  Yeah, I says.

  Her eyes flick to Lugh. I bet he’d know what to do about Lugh, she says. Seems like he’s mad all the time these days. I dunno why. If I ask him what’s the matter, it jest makes him worse. I want th’old Lugh back. I miss him most of all.

  She’s quiet fer a moment, rollin the dice around in her fingers. He told me an Tommo how he found you, she says, with the dead wolfdogs an all. He said you thought you seen Tracker.

  Guess I made a mistake, I says. Lugh figgers I was sleepwalkin. Tracker’d never go nowhere without Mercy.

  She hesitates, lookin at me sidewise, then says, I’m worried about you, Saba.

  Don’t be.

  Well, I am. You ain’t sick, are you? You’d tell me if you was sick.

  No, I says. But I ain’t.

  Jest becuz I’m nine, don’t mean I’m a stupid little kid. You should know that by now. She leans in close. Don’t tell Lugh, she whispers, but I bin askin the stars how to help you.

  Don’t git started with all that, Emmi. You know what Lugh thinks about star readin.

  Jest then, he calls out, Hey, Em, I nearly fergot! Come meet Fred!

  What? Her face lights with surprised delight. She leaps up an scoots over to the boys. I breathe with relief. A dog with a bone ain’t got nuthin on my sister.

  Em’s got this peg doll, Fern, that Pa made when she was two. She’s bin buggin Lugh to death an back to whittle a husband fer Fern. The moment she had the idea, she started callin the damn thing Fred.

  You made him in secret, I never knew! She takes Fred from Lugh. Gasps an laughs at the same time. No! she cries. Lugh, you made his nose huge! Yer a bad tease . . . Oh, you gotta fix it, Fern wants a handsome husband.

  Lugh shakes his head, sayin, Oh no, Fern told me herself, whittle me a distinguished husband, if you please, Lugh. Make sure you give him a fine, big nose.

  She did not!

  Look what I made! Tommo digs in his pocket an hands her a lump of wood.

  Oh! Emmi looks puzzled at it fer a moment, then beams at him. That’s good, Tommo. You made a pig! She squishes her nose flat an snorfles like a piggy. She’s always actin out so’s Tommo knows what she means. She don’t need to. He lip-reads easy, so long as you don’t talk too fast.

  He frowns. No, he says. Their baby.

  A wolfdog howl splits the night. Not far away. We tense. Another dog answers. Then another.

  Tommo looks a question at Lugh. Wolfdogs, he tells him.

  Emmi shivers, her eyes big. They sound near, she says.

  Naw, says Lugh, they’re a long ways off. But he pulls his bow an quiver a little closer. He shoves more wood on the fire to build up the blaze. Don’t worry, Em, yer big bad brother’ll keep them big bad wolfies away.

  Emmi snugs into his side. He puts his arm around her. Hey, Lugh, she says, what do the stars say about the Big Water?

  A mistake. She knows it the moment the words leave her mouth.

  Lugh’s face darkens. How many times do I gotta tell you, Em? Star readin’s a crock. Madmen an simpletons, that’s who believes in it. His voice is harsh, lashes at her.

  Emmi says, But Pa always—

  That’s enough! says Lugh.

  Tommo breaks the tension. Tell a story, Lugh, he says. Say what it’s like at the Big Water.

  He moves around to sit at Lugh’s feet. Leans in so’s he can watch his lips. So’s he don’t miss a single word. Tommo cain’t git enough of Lugh’s yarns about what it’s like out west. In fact, he cain’t git enough of Lugh full stop.

  Tommo took Ike’s death hard. He’s still mournin an no wonder. Ike took him in, starved an half wild, after he found him hidin in the stables of The One-Eyed Man. He kept him, taught him an called him son fer goin on three year. Tommo won’t never ferget him.

  But the last little while, I noticed how close he watches Lugh. He’s started to copy Lugh’s ways. His walk, how he holds his reins an wears his hat.

  He used to do the same with Ike.

  Ike’s take on it went like this. Tommo’s own pa went off huntin one day an never come back. He told his boy – a young deaf boy, can you believe anybody’d do such a thing? Ike said, shakin his head – he told him not to leave their camp, not to budge from that spot, he’d be back soon. That was the last Tommo ever seen of him. Missin, presumed dead. Killed by the beast he was huntin or injured an couldn’t find his way back.

  Tommo never got over it, accordin to Ike. He said he’d always be lookin fer his dead pa. I never gave much credence to Ike’s notion, but now, seein how Tommo is with Lugh, I wonder if he might not of bin onto somethin.

  Our pa was with us. Till the Tonton killed him that day. But he might as well not of bin, fer all the good it did us. Lugh was me an Em’s brother, ma an pa all rolled up in one.

  Lugh spins his yarn into the night. The Big Water’s like somethin from a dream, he says. Think of the best dream you ever had in yer life an it’s a thousand times better’n that. A million times more wonderful. It’s a land so rich an green an beautiful that when you see it fer the first time, you’ll wish you could die right there an then.

  Lugh always starts his Big Water tales the same way, with the same words. I yawn. I close my eyes an settle back to listen. This is the Lugh we know. Tellin stories. Makin us smile. Holdin us together.

  Say about the rabbits, says Em. They’re Tommo’s favourite bit.

  Agin? All right, says Lugh. Well, there’s rabbits everywhere at the Big Water. As far as the eye can see, nuthin but rabbits. You cain’t move fer trippin over ’em. An you ain’t never seen ones like these fellas. They’re big. Fat an juicy an lazy from doin nuthin but nibble on sweet, green grass all day long. An they’re so tame an so dumb that when you wanna eat, all you do is set yer pot to boilin, yell out ‘Supper time!’ an them rabbits march right up to the pot, hop in an pull the lid over. An they whistle while they do it.

  Rabbits don’t whistle! says Emmi.

  Well, you say that, says Lugh, but I heard it from a man, an he heard it from another man who seen it fer hisself an. . .

  A flash of light. Epona stands alone. Darkness all around her.

  There’s only the sound of my heart. Beat, beat, beat.

  She looks over her shoulder. Like there’s somethin behind her. She turns back. Sees me. Nods. I look down at my hands. I’m holdin a bow. I ain’t seen it before, but I know that it’s mine. Pale wood, silvery white.

  I bring it up. Fit a arrow to the string. I nock. I aim. She starts to run towards me. Throws her arms wide open.

  I shoot.

  There’s a flash of light.

  An I’m standin over the body. Lookin down on it.

  But it ain’t Epona.

  It’s DeMalo.

  He opens his eyes.

  He smiles.

  I jolt awake, sit up, my heart poundin.

  He’s here. DeMalo’s here. I look around, frantic. Lugh an Tommo an Emmi. They lie in their sleep skellies. Fast to sleep each one. Nero on his branch. The horses slumberin.

  Okay. He ain’t here. Calm down.
It was jest a dream. I clutch my blanket to my chest.

  DeMalo. Since I seen him last – at Pine Top Hill – I managed to keep him outta my mind. But he’s found his way to my dreams. His powerful body. His long dark hair. Broad cheekbones. Heavy-lidded eyes. Deep brown, almost black, glitterin in the torchlight of the cellblock at Hopetown.

  Lookin deep inside me. Findin my darkest thoughts, my worst fears. Like he knew me. The strangest thing was this . . . pull that I felt towards him. It was real. Physical. Despite he’s th’only person I ever met who gave off warm an cold at the same time. An I still don’t unnerstand why he spared my life. Twice, he did it. I’m glad fer it, I’m grateful, but he’s Tonton. My enemy. It didn’t make sense then an it still don’t.

  An his last words to me. As he cut the ropes that bound my hands, right there in front of Vicar Pinch. Until next time. Like he knew we’d meet agin.

  Until next time.

  No. Don’t think about it. I take a couple of deep breaths.

  I’m still huddled aginst the same tree. I must of dozed off listenin to Lugh talk about the Big Water. It’s the flat grey time. Night’s on the wane. Maybe two hours till dawn. It ain’t cooled down much overnight. The air feels thick an dull.

  Sabaaaa. Saabaaaa.

  It’s Epona’s voice.

  Epona. Dead by my hand.

  Saba.

  There she is agin. No, please, I’m . . . so tired . . . I’m still dreamin. That’s it, I’m dreamin or . . . maybe it was the wolfdogs that I heard, howlin agin in the distance.

  Then.

  A movement in the trees. Straight ahead, on th’other side of the clearin. My heart pitches. Starts to race. I hug the blanket around me.

  Epona? I whisper. Epona, is that you?

  Even as I speak, even as I ask, I know the answer to be yes.

  The merciful thing to do. The right thing. The only thing. That’s what they said. That’s what they told me. Before I did it an afterwards too. Jack an Ike an Ash. If I hadn’t of killed her, one of them would of had to. Jack said he would. He wanted to spare me. But I knew it had to be me. She was only there becuz of me. Helpin me find my brother.

  Kill Epona. Kill my friend. One shot from my bow, quick an clean. Or leave her to Vicar Pinch an the Tonton. Men without mercy.

  But how do I know I killed her? What if she didn’t die outright? What if she was still alive when she fell? What if the Tonton handed her over to them slave workers, crazy from too much chaal? They would of tore her apart. Jest like all the girls I beat in Hopetown. The ones who fell to the gauntlet.

  Sabaaaa.

  My hands shakin, I reach fer my bow an quiver. I git to my feet. Nero’s roostin on a branch above me. He wakes right away. Stretches out his wings an legs.

  Another movement. There’s somethin there, slippin between the trees, but I cain’t quite . . . it seems to change, to shift like . . . smoke or fog. Darker grey than the pre-dawn light, hazy around the edges. I cross the clearin an peer through the gloom.

  Saba.

  On a sigh, on a murmur, her voice drifts around me. Liftin my hair, brushin my cheek. It draws me on, into the trees, step by step by step.

  Nero flits ahead. A black shape, coastin from branch to branch. A shadow chasin a shadow. He seems to see her. This . . . shade of my friend. We trail her now, twistin an weavin through the trees in a game of follow-the-ghost.

  Then we’re outta the woods. In the open agin. An she’s gone. Epona’s gone. But she was here. She was. Here.

  Epona, I says. Come back. Please.

  The buttes an hills of the Waste wait, crouched dark aginst the skyline. The fadin stars watch. An listen.

  Nuthin.

  Nuthin.

  I hug my arms around me, shiverin. I better git back to camp before I’m missed.

  I turn.

  An she’s here. Right in front of me. Tracker too. He stands by her side.

  It’s Epona. But not like she was. In life, she gleamed an shone. Her nut-brown skin, her eyes, her hair. So strong an alive you’d swear the earth itself had birthed her.

  She’s a child of the air now. Fog an mist. She drifts. She gathers. She fades.

  Epona, I says.

  Sabaaaa, the air whispers.

  Tell me what you want, I says.

  Tracker whines.

  Suddenly I feel it. The weight of my bow. I’m holdin it in my hand.

  A bow helps feed you. Helps you defend yerself an yer people. A bow means you got a better chance of stayin alive. But it takes life. Not jest animals. People.

  Friends.

  Like Epona.

  I’m holdin the bow that killed her.

  I don’t stop to think. With one swift move, I break it over my knee.

  It falls to the ground, shattered. The shaft’s splintered the whole way along. It cain’t be mended.

  No more killin. Not by me.

  I look up.

  Epona’s gone.

  Tracker’s gone.

  An Emmi’s there.

  She’s standin at the edge of the trees. She comes to me.

  Did you see her? I says. It was Epona, she was here. Tracker too, did you see him?

  Emmi picks up the pieces of my bow an hides ’em in a split in a nearby rock. Nero perches on top, leanin over to look at what she’s doin. Then she takes my hand. Hers is small an warm. Mine’s cold.

  C’mon, Saba, she says. You need some sleep.

  They was right here, I says. You must of seen ’em.

  They’re gone now, she says.

  She starts leadin me back to camp. I look over my shoulder. I don’t wanna miss ’em if they come back.

  Somewhere out in the nowhere land, a wolfdog howls. Distant an mournful. I stop.

  Did you hear that? I says. It’s Tracker.

  C’mon, says Em.

  Our campsite’s quiet. Lugh an Tommo’s still fast to sleep. Nero settles back to his roost. I lie on the ground an wrap myself in my blanket. Em brings her bedroll an lays down beside me.

  I won’t tell Lugh, she says. I won’t say nuthin. You gotta be okay, Saba. We all need you.

  She looks at me. I look at her. At her eyes, jest like Lugh’s. Eyes so blue you could sail away on ’em, that’s what Ma used to say.

  You look different, I says.

  I’m taller, she says. I’m growin. That’s what kids do. I’m almost ten.

  Oh.

  Hey, Saba?

  Uh huh?

  Did you really see Epona? she says.

  Yeah, I says.

  I wish I could see Pa. I miss him. D’you miss him?

  Such a simple question. So like Em. An I’m ambushed by sudden grief. I cain’t answer right away.

  When I was yer age, I whisper, he was different. You never knew him like that. He was . . . I dunno. He was my pa, that’s all. That’s who I miss.

  It’s okay to be sad, she says.

  I scrub away the stupid tears.

  I wish I could meet Ma, she says. Jest once. D’you think she’d come if I asked her to?

  I don’t think it works that way, I says.

  She’s silent fer a moment. Then she says, You ain’t gonna die, are you, Saba?

  One day, I says. But not today. Go to sleep.

  G’night. She snugs down into her bedroll.

  I roll onto my back an stare at the sky. I think about Pa an watch the last of the stars fade as dawn creeps in.

  Read me the stars, Pa. Tell me what they say.

  When Pa was a boy, he met with a traveller. A man who knew many things. He learned Pa how to read the stars. From when we was little, Pa would tell us how our destiny, the story of our lives, is in the night sky. He never would say what he seen there. But it laid heavy on him, you could tell. From the way he looked at Lugh s
ometimes. The way he looked at me.

  Lugh come to disbelieve star readin an all that. I guess he’s right. But still, Pa knew somethin. He did. I was there. I heard him say it.

  Pa! I yell. They got Lugh! I grab his arm, give him a hard shake. This is real! You gotta fight!

  Then it’s like he comes to life. He pulls hisself up tall, his eyes spark an the Pa I remember’s back. He hauls me to him, holds me so tight I cain’t hardly breathe.

  My time’s nearly up, he says quickly.

  No, Pa!

  Listen. I dunno what happens after this. I could only see glimpses. But they’re gonna need you, Saba. Lugh an Emmi. An there’ll be others too. Many others. Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, like I know you are. An never give up, d’you unnerstand, never. No matter what happens.

  I won’t, I says. I ain’t no quitter, Pa.

  That’s my girl.

  Then they killed him. The Tonton. They killed my pa an took my Lugh an left the shadows behind.

  The moment Lugh’s awake, he jumps up, checks out Buck’s leg an tells us we’re on the move agin. Jest like that.

  As we break camp an start to pack the horses, nobody says a word. The air’s tight. Ready to snap. Lugh’s dancin mad about somethin. Tommo keeps his head down, outta the line of fire. Emmi looks at me, wide-eyed. What’s the matter with Lugh?

  So, Saba, he says, where’s yer bow? His voice is fake casual. So that’s it. He knows. Over Hermes’ back, I look at Em. The tiniest shake of her head. She ain’t told. I wonder what he knows. I decide to tell as little as I can git away with.

  It’s broke, I says.

  Is that right, he says.

  I busy myself adjustin Hermes’ bit. I must of bin sleepwalkin agin, I says. Must of fell an broke it.

  Emmi? he says. You got anythin to say about this?

  She goes bright red. No, she says.

  Well, try this, he says. Saba broke her bow on purpose. An you hid the pieces in a rock. An then both of yuz decided to keep it from me. How about that?

  All right, I says, you followed us an you seen what happened. Jest leave it, okay?

  No, I won’t leave it, he says. You broke yer gawdamn bow, Saba. Was you sleepwalkin? An don’t lie to me.