Rebel Heart

by Moira Young

  Bram’s back. He gives the tiniest of nods. That means Emmi’s up above us, safely outta sight in the corn. We join in the dance. Molly an Creed. Me an Tommo. Lugh an Maev. Bram an Cassie.

  It’s easy enough to catch on. It’s a tease of a dance. Slow. Shoulder to shoulder, hand to hand, back to back, oh-so-close but never quite touchin. Two steps forwards, two steps back, move in close an circle each other. Eye to eye through the masks.

  Lugh an Maev talk, all intent, their heads close together. Creed talks to Molly. Molly pretends he ain’t there. I keep lookin towards the open doors an the night outside. Not wantin to be here. Feelin trapped. It’s too hot. I cain’t breathe.

  I need air, I says to Tommo.

  We make our way outside. There’s a few people standin around the pigroast pit. We hurry into the shadows. Outta sight, outta earshot. We rip off our masks. I close my eyes. Feel the cool air brush my hot face. Take in a deep breath.

  With a rush, outta nowhere, Tommo’s holdin me, kissin me, pressin tight up aginst me. Clumsy, urgent, unsure. Soft lips. A boy’s lips.

  I grab his hands. I move him away from me. Gently. Firmly. We stare at each other.

  He says, I’m true an constant. Not like Jack. I love you, Saba. I love you.

  He means it. He feels it. It’s in his face. His voice. His eyes. What’m I gonna say? Whatever I say, it’s gonna hurt him. I cain’t bear to do that. He’s bin hurt too much in his life already.

  Tommo, I says, you . . . you an me—

  Saba! Ash’s voice. Hissin at me from the field nearby. I go towards her an Tommo follows me. She’s crouched in the corn stubble.

  Tonton comin! she says. Six riders. One cart. They’ll be here any minute.

  As she disappears, me an Tommo’s pullin on our masks. We run back inside to find Bram an Cassie. Cassie’s tappin her toes an watchin. Bram’s takin a breather.

  Tonton comin, I says to him.

  Probly jest droppin by to check the party’s all above board. Oh, he says, lookin at the pregnant girls, an it might be their time to be collected.

  We look out over the dancers as we speak, pretend we’re havin a casual conversation. Tommo’s gone to stand with Cassie. Collected? I says.

  They go to the baby house to give birth, he says. They leave the child to be wet-nursed an raised to be a Steward of the Earth, jest like them. Weak or surplus babies git left out in the open overnight. By the mornin, it’ll be dead from cold or some animal will of took it.

  Harsh, I says.

  Only the strongest an best fer New Eden, he says. Molly spoke to you.

  I nod. I unnerstand, I says. I won’t make no trouble fer you.

  Go dance, he says. Stick with yer friends. There’s a door in the corner if you gotta make a quick exit. Head fer the fields.

  He casts a quick glance at the ceilin. The cornloft’s overhead. Emmi’ll be watchin through the gaps. Yer sister, he says, will she have the wit to hide if they decide to search up there? You never know.

  Of course, I says.

  As he goes off, I take Tommo’s hand an we slide back in among the Stewards.

  We gotta talk, he says.

  Not now, Tommo, I says.

  As we move past Molly an Creed, she whispers, Where you bin?

  Tonton comin, I mutter. Keep dancin.

  Me an Tommo dance our way across the barn, with Molly an Creed right behind us. As we do, I see Lugh an Maev. Slippin through the little door. Hand in hand. Unseen by anybody but me. Where the hell’re they goin?

  Jest as I clock ’em, a ripple goes through the room. All heads turn to the main doors. A Tonton patrol. Six men, like Ash said. My heart seizes. Is Jack with ’em? Did he find my message at the Lost Cause?

  The music falters, feet start to slow. But the patrol commander signals to the players an they keep on playin. The dancers keep dancin. There ain’t hardly bin a pause. The Tonton move towards the three pregnant girls, clenched fists over their hearts, the sign of the Pathfinder. The girls salute quickly, as they stand up an start fussin with their clothes. They’re giddy with excitement.

  I can barely see the back of the Tonton’s heads. They all got short-cropped hair, clean, fine-lookin robes an gear. Nuthin like the grubby Tonton scum I know from Hopetown an Freedom Fields. I cain’t tell if Jack’s one of ’em.

  I drop Tommo’s hand. My bootlace, I says, it’s broke. I drop down an pretend to tie it. I lose myself in the swirl of dancers, duckin, keepin low, movin bit by bit towards the door in the corner.

  Lucky girls, says a girl nearby. They’re off to the baby house.

  I cain’t hardly wait till it’s my turn, says another.

  My belly’s tight, my heart’s racin. I’m at the door now, pressin myself into the shadows. The Tonton patrol’s movin towards the main doors, two by two, with the pregnant girls between ’em. The dancers nearby clap an cheer.

  I gotta find out. I gotta know if Jack’s with ’em. If he is, I’ll follow.

  Nobody’s lookin. I lift the latch. I slip through the door.

  I’m outside the barn. A big open shed stands opposite. I can make out tools, planks, bits of wagon, a plough. Stubbled fields to my right. The farmyard an house to my left.

  I can hear a voice. Loud. Sure of hisself. The patrol commander. You two men, he says, split up, take a quick check around the barn, then we’ll be on our way.

  I dive into the shed. Hide behind a stack of planks. Suddenly, I feel it. The heartstone around my neck. I touch it. It’s warm. The heartstone knows.

  Jack’s here.

  He’s here.

  Right away, I’m tremblin. My breath comes fast an tight. Somebody rounds the front corner of the barn, holdin up a torch to light his way.

  It’s Jack. In his black Tonton robes an armour. Short hair. Clean shaved. He makes his way slowly along the side of the barn. Movin his torch high, then low, checkin that all’s clear.

  As he moves towards me, I watch him from the shadows. Time shudders. It stops. It waits. I take in the sight of him. His face, his lips, his crooked nose. His silver grey eyes like moonlight.

  The heartstone burns, fierce an true. I bin wantin him so long. I bin missin him so deep. It hurts my heart to see him agin. I open my mouth to call his name. I stop myself. His head snaps in my direction. Like he knows I’m here. Did I make a noise? He lifts the torch. At the same time, there’s a rustle overhead. I look up. Jack does too.

  The side wall of the barn is directly opposite the shed. Set into it, at the top of a long ladder, there’s a hatch door to the cornloft. It’s open. Somebody’s scuttlin down the ladder. It’s Emmi.

  Jack snatches up the whistle that hangs at his neck. He blows it. He’s raisin the alarm.

  My feet start to move. Two great arms grab me from behind. One hand clamps over my mouth, th’other one hauls me tight to him. It’s Bram. Not a sound, he whispers in my ear. We watch.

  Em’s jumpin the last few feet to the ground, jest as more Tonton come runnin. One from the back of the barn, four from the front, includin the commander.

  Gotcha! Jack yells. He lunges at Em an plucks her from the ladder. He swings her about, then backhands her across the face. Her head snaps back. She goes limp. He dumps her on the ground.

  It’s happened in a blink. Bram drags me further into the shed. We crouch there, listenin.

  She must of bin hidin in the cornloft, Jack’s sayin.

  She looks a strong, healthy one, says one of the Tonton. If you ain’t broke her neck, that is. He picks her up an heaves her over his shoulder.

  Naw, says Jack, she’s okay.

  Let’s hope she makes a good breeder some day, says another Tonton.

  Nice work, brother, says the commander.

  Jack salutes, clenched fist to his heart. I serve the Pathfinder an New Eden, he says.

  They di
sappear around the front of the barn.

  Bram hangs on to me. Keeps his hand over my mouth. My breath shudders. My body twitches. It’s lucky he stopped me. Lucky fer me, fer all of us, that he’s as strong as he is. When Jack blew that whistle, when I realized Em was in trouble, the red hot kicked in an I jest went. An then he hit her. Knocked her out cold. If I’d of bin free, I would of gone fer him. With my bare hands, I would of tried to kill him.

  Bram keeps his voice low an calm. We’re gonna keep cool, he says. I know where they’ll take her. We’ll make a plan to git her back. Is she a smart girl?

  I nod.

  Then she’ll be fine. Now, we ain’t gonna make a fuss. We ain’t gonna draw attention. That’ll jest git us all in trouble, includin yer sister. We’re gonna walk around the corner an wave ’em off, like the good Stewards they think we are. Nuthin’s happened here, nuthin outta the ordinary fer New Eden. D’you unnerstand? Nod if you do.

  I nod.

  Okay, he says. C’mon.

  As I follow him outta the darkness of the shed, Cassie slips outta the little door from the barn. The music rackets out behind her.

  They found Emmi, says Bram. They’re takin her.

  Are we in trouble? says Cassie.

  Nope, he says. We’re grateful they found her. We knew somebody was hidin around here, we bin havin trouble.

  Cassie takes one arm, Bram takes th’other an they walk me around the corner to the yard. We’re jest in time to see ’em leave. The cart with the girls fer the baby house rattles outta the yard. Em’s on horseback. Small an limp, she rides with the man who picked her up, his arms circled around her. The commander’s last to ride out.

  Bram raises a hand in thanks. We knew there was a mischief maker hidin around here, he says. Grateful fer yer help. Long life to the Pathfinder! Him an Cassie salute. The commander does the same. Then he heels his horse to catch up with his patrol.

  Jack. He was smilin at the man next to him. Laughed at somethin he said.

  The night swallows ’em. Folds around the sound of their hoofbeats. Then they’re gone.

  Emmi’s gone.

  The heartstone’s still hot on my skin. The music an laughter an light spill outta the barn. Molly, Creed an Tommo hurry over to us. Where’d you go, Saba? says Molly. What’s happened?

  They took Emmi, Cassie tells ’em.

  I feel dazed, like I’m in a dream. Jack was with ’em, I says. He hit her. Knocked her out.

  What? says Molly.

  He’ll know she ain’t here by herself, says Creed. He knows yer here, Saba, that Maev found you.

  He took her, I says.

  He didn’t hafta, says Bram. He was by hisself. He whistled fer help.

  He’s turned, Saba, says Tommo. Lugh was right.

  I back away. Strangers. Everywhere. All around me. My throat’s tight. Where is he? I whisper. I want Lugh, where’s my brother, I want my brother, where is he?

  My body’s shakin. I don’t know none of these people, they ain’t my people an all I want is Lugh an he ain’t here, he’s off somewhere with Maev when I need him an I ain’t got nobody.

  Hush. Cassie touches my arm. Come with me, she says. We cain’t do nuthin fer now.

  She starts leadin me towards the house. I can hear Bram sayin somethin to the men by the pigroast pit, hear them laughin.

  We’re passin by the stables. There’s a couple of horses standin outside. I shove Cassie hard. As she staggers back, I leap onto the nearest horse an we take off. He’s facin the fields, so that’s the way we go.

  We fly over the stubbled cornfields.

  I jest go.

  Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere that’s away from here.

  Nobody follows.

  I ride. An ride. An I cry. I sob my rage to the night. Nero flies above. Silent companion. My head’s thick. It pounds. I’m trapped in my thoughts.

  All this fer Jack. All fer Jack. I believed him. Defended him. An this is what he does. This is what he is. He’s deceived me. Betrayed me. Lugh’s bin right all along.

  What d’you know about him? Nuthin. He plays whatever side suits him at the time. He’s a hollow man. A trickster. He’s betrayed you. Betrayed you an deceived you. You got a price on yer head, an Jack’s a man with his eye on the main chance. How fine would that be? Make his mark with the Pathfinder by handin over the Angel of Death.

  If Bram hadn’t of grabbed me, if he hadn’t of stopped me, I’d be in Tonton hands right now.

  Trickster.

  Betrayer.

  Deceiver.

  Jack lied about everythin. Who he is. What he is. How he felt about me. A means to a end, that’s all I ever was.

  I cain’t stand to think about it. How stupid I am. What a blind fool.

  Who cares what Molly says about him? What does she know, anyways? Look at her, stayin in that gawdfersaken storm belt years on end, waitin fer Ike Twelvetrees to come back to her.

  The heartstone. It’s a liar too. I wish Mercy’d never gave it me.

  Without it, I’d never of looked at Jack twice. Never saved him from the Hopetown fire. I would of found Lugh on my own an we’d be out west by now. Him an me an Emmi. Everythin’s wrecked. Ruined.

  I wish I’d never met Jack.

  I hate him.

  Hate him.

  Deceiver. Betrayer. Liar.

  After a while, I cain’t keep up the wild pace. I let the horse do what he wants. As he slows to a walk, I lie aginst his neck, worn out an cried out. We wander through the night. I don’t pay no heed to where I am, to time passin.

  The roar of fallin water rouses me. I lift my head an look about me. We’re in woods now, followin a rough track. The horse slows, stops. I slide off. I stumble through the trees. Suddenly, I’m in the open, on the edge of a high, rocky cliff. The cool spray wakes me. Water shoots out from the cliff face below. It thunders into a wide pool, a dizzy fifty foot drop straight down.

  Nero shrieks as he circles above. Clouds clear the moon. I rip the heartstone from my neck. I throw it. It arcs. It falls.

  Nero swoops to grab it. A black shape drops outta nowhere.

  It’s a hawk.

  He knocks Nero.

  Nero! I scream.

  They tumble as they fall from the sky. Fightin. Shriekin.

  They’re gonna land in the water.

  Nero’s gonna die.

  I leap.

  I leap from the cliff.

  Down, down, down I fall. I land smack on my back. Knock the breath from my body. Sharp pain at my temple.

  I plunge to the dark below.

  Down to the bottom. Where the dark things crouch. Where the old things wait. Where they crouch an wait fer me.

  The darkest depths beckon me down. Black water of pain, it closes over me.

  Let go, it’s safe to let go.

  Betrayed.

  Deceived.

  Let go.

  I open my mouth.

  I let the darkness in. It begins to fill me.

  Somethin grabs my wrist. A hand. Strong. No, let me be. I pull away.

  Too strong.

  Up.

  Up.

  Up from the dark.

  Then.

  Cool air hits my face.

  I gasp.

  Gasp.

  Cough.

  Breathe.

  No! I says. I start to struggle. Let me be!

  Don’t fight me! Hand unner my chin, towin me. I’m hauled from the water. Laid on my side on rocky ground.

  Nero, I says.

  There’s a rush of air. A splash.

  I turn on my back an open my eyes. I’m lookin up at the night sky. Lyin on the edge of the rock pool. The roar of the waterfall from the cliff above.

  Nero. The hawk got him. I drag myself to my knees. Ne
ro! I cry.

  A dark shape swims towards me, one-handed. It’s a man. He holds Nero in his other hand, keepin him above the water. As he gits closer, I can see who it is.

  My heart seizes.

  It’s DeMalo.

  DeMalo. The Pathfinder. Master of New Eden. I’m dreamin. This cain’t be true. He climbs outta the pool, gaspin fer breath, his chest heavin. He drags a wave of water with him an it splashes me. It’s cold. Real. No dream.

  He’s alive, says DeMalo. Wounded but alive.

  Give him here! I take Nero with careful hands, my breath caught in my throat. Nero! I says. His eyes glitter up at me. He gives a feeble croak. He’s bleedin, I says, he’s hurt, we gotta fix him.

  I’m camped just over there, says DeMalo. Can you walk?

  Yes, I says. I’m already gittin to my feet, my eyes checkin Nero over. There’s blood on his breast an head.

  When I saw it was you, I couldn’t believe it, says DeMalo.

  I hardly look at him, barely glance at him. Please, I says, we gotta hurry.

  This way, he says. As he leads me away from the falls an the pool, he checks the sky. He gives a piercin whistle. It was my hawk, he says. Culan. I was night flying him. Not expecting visitors. I’m sorry.

  I’m right behind him. My heart’s racin. I’m coughin. My clothes an hair hang heavy with water, my boots squelch with every step. He’s barefoot, bright in the night in his white shirt an britches. Water drips offa him too. He used to wear his thick black hair long an tied back. Now it’s cut to his collar.

  The path’s rough. I stumble an Nero squeaks protest. How far? I says.

  We’re here, says DeMalo.

  A simple tent among the trees. Nobody around.

  Where’s yer men? I says.

  I’m alone, he says. This is my retreat. You’re perfectly safe.

  I hesitate. He holds open the tent flap. The crow’s wounded, he says.

  I follow him inside.

  I hear him movin around. I can jest make him out, a shape darker than the dark. Then the sound of flint an a soft white glow lights the tent.

  He sets the lantern on a table. Bring him here, he says.