The Girl of Ink & Stars

by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

  Masha threw down the cloth she had been using on my fingers.

  Pablo hesitated, then stood, stepping forward into the shade. ‘This morning, a girl was found in the orchard,’ he said at last.

  Taking my silence for incomprehension, Masha took my hand softly. ‘He means, a girl was found dead. Killed.’

  The silence unfurled until I forced myself to speak. ‘Who?’

  Masha paused, looking at Pablo. He was so much taller. Two years had stretched him high as a man. I wondered if Gabo would have grown the same as me, or faster.

  ‘A girl called Cata. Cata Rodriguez.’

  I looked at him for a long moment, feeling nothing, hearing him through the pulse in my ears. I pressed my palm to my forehead to stop the rising flood of questions. Masha took it, and held it between her own.

  ‘Isabella, you need to rest.’

  I opened my mouth to speak but Masha raised a warning finger. ‘Not one more word. I know you are worried about your father but he is a clever man and he will be fine.’

  I nodded dumbly.

  ‘The Governor has ordered a curfew until they find… until they sort all this out.’

  ‘Curfew?’

  ‘We are to stay inside. Your da is probably stuck somewhere waiting for it to be lifted. He would never forgive me if I let you out of my sight. Not after a murder.’

  A shudder ran through the three of us.

  ‘I’ll go home and wait.’ I rose but Masha pressed me firmly back down.

  ‘You will rest.’

  The old woman stood and pushed past her son to reach the garden. I could see her picking something from a low shrub by the door.

  Pablo turned towards me. His face was broad but no longer round, cut in angles around the cheeks and jaw. His eyes were the same dark brown, though. I looked down at my lap, suddenly shy.

  Masha came back in and filled a cup from the water bucket.

  ‘Drink this, and eat these.’ She held out two small, dark berries. ‘They’ll help you sleep.’

  ‘I don’t need to—’

  ‘You have had a terrible fright. Have some food and then you can lie down in Pablo’s room until your father returns.’

  ‘He won’t know where I am!’

  ‘I will keep a lookout at the window for him. I will not take my eyes from the street.’

  Masha placed the berries on the table, watching as I picked them up and chewed. They sent out little bursts of bitterness that made my tongue tingle.

  After forcing down the bread, I followed Masha to Pablo’s room and got into bed. The pillow was soft and the sheets smelt of lavender, and as my body filled with heaviness from the berries, my thoughts chased themselves like dogs chasing their tails.

  Cata, dead.

  The orchard. Dragon fruit. Lupe.

  Cata, dead.

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  Bang!

  I sat up, heart beating hard. Pablo’s room was full of flames, but I could feel no heat.

  Bang!

  I looked out of the low window. The air sang with sparks, flung like a handful of rubies against the night.

  Bang!

  It was Lupe’s birthday fireworks. I could smell them – smoky and sharp, tingling my nostrils.

  Sulphur, Lupe had told me. It’s what makes them explode!

  I lay back down. The fireworks were over in another three bangs, painting the room blue and gold. As the last one fizzed away I heard whispers, low and urgent, filtering beneath the closed door.

  My heart leapt as I heard the tap-tap of Da’s walking stick, and then the rumble of his low voice.

  ‘You’re sure she’s asleep? With all that racket?’

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Whatever Da was about to tell Masha, he did not want me to hear, which meant that it was probably something I desperately did want to hear. I heard the door creak open a fraction, then close again.

  ‘Fast asleep. I gave her something to help.’

  ‘Thank you, Masha. Does she know about Cata?’ asked Da.

  I clenched the sheet at the mention of her name.

  ‘Yes… I wanted to wait for you but Pablo told her.’

  Da let out a long breath and there was a low mumble that may have been Pablo apologizing.

  ‘She’s all right,’ said Masha soothingly. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘I tried to send word but…’

  Masha waited. I waited, too.

  Da cleared his throat. ‘Señora Feliz told me Isa had been taken home safely, so I joined a search party.’

  ‘What about the curfew?’

  ‘The Governor’s not looking – we had to do something.’

  ‘He didn’t even cancel his daughter’s birthday fireworks!’ raged Pablo. ‘What kind of person does that?’

  Masha made a shushing sound. ‘Where did you go?’ she asked Da.

  ‘To the orchard. We weren’t allowed into the forest—’

  ‘Why not?’ interrupted Pablo. ‘If I had just killed someone, I know where I’d go—’

  ‘Hush!’ Masha scolded, but Pablo pressed on, his voice all edges.

  ‘Adori doesn’t care about Cata, does he?’

  ‘Pablo!’ Masha’s voice was fearful. It was dangerous to accuse the Governor of doing wrong. People who did so found their livestock vanished then appeared in the Governor’s fields, or found their drinking wells sullied with mud.

  ‘The boy’s right,’ said Da. ‘Adori’s not doing anything. And I agree that whoever did this is likely to have crossed through to the Forgotten Territories.’

  ‘Are there any clues?’ Masha asked.

  I crept out of bed and closer to the door as Da lowered his voice. ‘They found marks around the body. Looked like claw marks to me, but there’re no dogs big enough. Deep gouges, thick as my thumb. Maybe the murderer scraped the ground to cover his tracks.’

  I couldn’t listen any longer. I threw the door open.

  Da and Masha were sitting together at the kitchen table, with Pablo standing by the window. Da stumbled to his feet, his bad leg collapsing slightly. He was dusty all over, with shadows under bloodshot eyes and red ink stains on his shirt. But he was here. He was safe.

  I ran to him. ‘Who did it, Da? Why isn’t the Governor looking for who—’ I forced myself to say the words, ‘For who killed Cata?’

  The three of them were looking at me with the same expression, as if they understood something I didn’t.

  My cheeks grew hot. ‘Someone needs to do something!’

  ‘Enough, child!’

  I flinched and swallowed my questions. Da never shouted.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said curtly.

  We crept the few metres home in a deep silence that was nothing to do with the curfew.

  I carried Pep into my room and listened to Da tidying up. When he came in I pretended to be asleep, but he can always tell.

  ‘I’m sorry for shouting, Isa. I shouldn’t have. I just—’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’m tired. And sad, for Cata. Does that make sense?’

  I made a small noise in my throat.

  ‘I thought maybe I could say sorry with a story?’ he said.

  Pep mewled grumpily as I rolled over to face Da. ‘Why won’t you tell me what happened?’

  ‘How about Arinta?’

  It was my favourite tale – the myth of the saviour of Joya – and even though Lupe teased me for being too old for bedtime stories I loved hearing it. But I wasn’t done being annoyed. I rolled back over and Pep hissed.

  ‘All right.’ Da sighed. ‘I’ll let you get to sleep.’

  Before he could stand up I put my hand out behind me. ‘I suppose a story wouldn’t hurt.’

  He sat back down, and when he spoke I could hear the smile in his voice.

  ‘Arinta was a very brave girl. She lived at the centre of Joya a thousand years ago, when it was free from the earth and sailed the ocean like a living ship. There was no forested border, no Forgotten Territories, and songbirds sang in ever
y tree.

  ‘But one day, a fire demon that bubbled beneath the seabed noticed the beautiful floating island and wanted it for himself. His name was Yote. He was the length of a river and as hot as the sun. He built a column of rock to climb through, and caught Joya, attaching it to the seabed. The people of Joya were afraid. They knew he was going to claim the island for the Fire Realm and they would have to leave their home.

  ‘Arinta was sad. She loved Joya, with its forests and sea and songbirds. So that night, she stole her father’s sword and crept out of the house to where Yote was rumbling the earth, readying himself to swallow Joya. She journeyed underground through a waterfall, drenching herself in the water to protect herself against the flames, and walked until she arrived at Yote’s lair. She called out. Yote heard her, but did not stop rumbling.

  ‘Arinta did not give up. She attacked the rock walls with her sword to set the sea on him. Yote became afraid. He could defeat rivers, but the sea would swallow him up. He agreed not to take the island if she stopped. They swore to these terms and she left the sword embedded in the rock so he knew she was keeping her promise.’

  Da hesitated. ‘I think we should stop there.’

  ‘But you always say you have to finish stories, even if they don’t have happy endings,’ I said, even though I had heard it so many times I could say the words along with him.

  He spoke fast, the words blurring into each other.

  ‘But while Yote was a lazy demon, he was also a proud one. He did not want the islanders to know a girl had outwitted him, but he could not destroy the island, for oaths bound demons for a thousand years. Instead he sent his fire dogs after Arinta and they chased her through the tunnels until she got lost.

  ‘Arinta’s father searched and searched the tunnels, but she was never seen again. Some say she became the river itself, others that she is still down there, her spirit making sure Yote keeps his promise. Either way, Arinta looks after Joya, her sacrifice a gift more powerful than any fire demon.’

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  ‘Morning, little one.’ Da’s voice was soft. ‘I’m sorry to wake you. How are you feeling?’

  I couldn’t speak it aloud, the twist of worry that was knotted through my body. ‘Fine.’

  I sat up as Pep jumped off the bed.

  ‘I’m going door to door today with a few of the others,’ Da said. ‘Asking if anyone saw anything.’

  ‘What about the curfew?’

  ‘Something has to be done. Don’t worry,’ he said hurriedly, smoothing out my frown. ‘We didn’t get caught yesterday, did we? And if you have any problems just call for Masha out of the window. Keep the door locked.’

  I felt a stab of fear at the thought of being left, but Da was right. Cata deserved justice, and as long as Pep and Miss La were here I wouldn’t be alone.

  Before he set out, I bathed his leg and wrapped it tightly. The old scar ran jaggedly from his knee to his ankle, like a red vein. When he’d jumped aboard the ship in Æygpt, he didn’t even know where it was heading. For all we knew, we would sail over the edge of the horizon and never be seen again, he explained, pointing to the oldest maps. Horrible beasts populated the eastern coast: gigantic fish with claws and scales striped like tigers, one-eyed elephants with fangs and tusks sharp as glass, creatures that to the cartographers of old were less terrifying than the unknown.

  I had always found this strange – preferring monsters to not knowing – but now I understood. The murderer was out there, nameless and faceless. That was more unsettling than if the killer had been revealed to have four heads and teeth as long as knives. As Da left, I hugged him a bit tighter than normal.

  ‘You’ll be safe, Isa,’ he said. ‘Bolt the door.’

  Da’s study was full of treasures from his travels, but it was not the telescope from Europa nor the astronomy charts from Chine that fascinated me. It was what hung on the wall above his desk.

  Ma’s map of Joya. Made before the Banishment, before the Governor arrived, even before Da’s family settled here from Afrik. Made when the island still floated. Da said that if Arinta were real – and of course I knew she was real – she’d have lived on a Joya that looked much like the one on Ma’s map. Pep leapt on to my lap and settled down as I gazed up at it.

  The fabric, a pale brown worn thin with age and use, was fraying at the edges. The map was basic at best, and focused on odd details. Gromera was shown as the tiny settlement it must once have been. The Marisma, the swamp, was stitched in blue thread with the forest circling it. A blue star marked Arintan, the waterfall through which Arinta was said to have descended to meet Yote.

  There were six villages, dotted irregularly around the coast; Carment was the one furthest north. The very centre of the map was blank but when held up to the light it seemed faintly lined, like the veins of a leaf.

  I wondered what the rest of Joya looked like now. Overgrown, maybe? And what about the people the Governor had banished when he arrived, and those from the other villages? The rest of Joya might be completely empty, for all we knew.

  I scratched Pep behind the ears, then pulled a sheet of paper towards me from the pile of used pieces Da kept for me. Da had been teaching me cartography since Gabo died. It was an obvious attempt to distract me, but I had grown to love it. I dipped a quill into the blue inkwell – I didn’t even glance at the red – and began to draw what the Forgotten Territories looked like in my head.

  My legs had gone numb before Pep finally stirred, jumping off my lap and stretching. I flexed my fist, examining the half-finished map. The scaling of the forest was wrong, but I was happy with the detail of the river bends.

  Pep mewled. It was past his feeding time. Dusk was falling outside. I frowned. There was something to do with dusk I had to remember . . .

  My stomach jolted. Lupe!

  I didn’t think twice about breaking my promise to Da.

  The market square felt just as eerie as it had the day before, like a village taken by spirits. Ravens chattered and fought on the roofs.

  Across the deserted stalls I saw Lupe, sitting on the barrel, long legs trailing from beneath a pink taffeta gown. She looked as if she was on her way to a ball.

  Lupe waved. She didn’t seem scared.

  I scuffed my way to the barrel.

  ‘I was worried you’d forgotten!’ said Lupe. ‘Good idea to arrange this, right? Did you see the fireworks?’

  I nodded. She sprang off the barrel and spun around. ‘It’s so quiet. Isn’t it strange?’

  ‘Everything’s strange.’

  ‘It’s about to get stranger,’ said Lupe, stopping suddenly mid-spin. ‘Guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’re going on a trip!’ said Lupe, flinging her arms out.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ said Lupe, obviously deflated by my tone, ‘Papa and Mama and I, we’re going on a trip. To Afrik.’

  Afrik? I tried to make the words sink in. The Governor was leaving? ‘When?’

  ‘Soon!’ said Lupe happily. ‘But you can’t tell anyone. Papa said it was a secret.’

  ‘Only a trip? You’re coming back?’

  She nodded, more curls slipping loose from her bun. ‘Papa would have said if not, wouldn’t he?’

  Would he? ‘How are you going?’

  Lupe grinned, pleased to have shocked me. ‘On that.’

  She pointed to the Governor’s creaking ship in the harbour below, but I couldn’t drag my eyes from my friend’s face. She felt like a stranger.

  I knew Lupe lived differently to others, knew this made her selfish sometimes. But she was also kind, and normally the silly things she said didn’t make me want to walk away and wish I had never known her.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Lupe. ‘I thought you’d be excited for me—’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I hissed. ‘How can you act like this, with Cata gone?’

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘You don’t know
?’ I said, my temper running through me like needles. ‘Why there’s no one around, why there’s a curfew?’

  ‘Papa doesn’t tell me things like—’

  ‘Did Papa forget to mention the detail? Too horrible for his darling daughter to hear?’

  ‘Why are you being so mean?’ Lupe asked, her lip wobbling.

  ‘Cata’s dead!’ I shouted, sending ravens spiralling. ‘Because you sent her to the orchard, and someone killed her!’

  The words, spoken out loud, were as shocking to me as they were to Lupe. Her face went almost as pale as her mother’s.

  ‘I didn’t know—’

  ‘No, Lupe, you choose not to know! You don’t care about anything, anyone, outside your life. You don’t understand about your father, about Cata, about anything—’

  ‘I do care. I want to know! Tell me – no one tells me anything!’

  We had never argued before and Lupe’s eyes were bright, but I didn’t care. I felt threaded through with rage, as though if I could keep talking, keep hurting Lupe, I would hurt less myself.

  ‘Because of you sending her to get you dragon fruit, Cata was in the orchard the same night as someone bad. Because of you, she’s dead and she’s not coming back. And because of your father, we won’t find who did it. He’s too busy sorting out your fireworks to do anything. He won’t send a search party through the forest, which is where everyone says the murderer went—’

  ‘Th–the forest?’ stuttered Lupe. ‘Why won’t he? Why won’t he go?’

  ‘Because he’s a coward, and rotten right through. Because everyone in your family is rotten and ever since he came here everything is rotten.’

  Lupe was crying now, holding her stomach as if I had punched her. My nails stung crescents into my palms. I felt powerful, anger pushing out the fear.

  ‘My Ma died because of you coming here, and Gabo. Your papa stopped us crossing the forest to get medicine. And now Cata’s dead too, and you’re just running away. You’re all running away to Afrik and leaving us with your mess. Well, good.’

  ‘Isa, I—’ Lupe was holding her arms out to me but I kicked dust at her skirt.

  ‘Go! Nobody wants you here.’

  Lupe looked at me, face scrunched up, tears thick on her cheeks. And then she was tripping over her gangly legs, sprinting away towards her house.