“Do you think he’s right?” Tansy asked. “There’re no raveners on guard right now?”
“He also said Zee is somewhere nearby,” Clementine said. “We have to find him before the raveners do.”
“No, we have to get as far away from this place as possible,” Violet said gently. “Zee can take care of himself. You know he can.”
“We don’t even know this houseboy is telling the truth,” Aster pointed out.
“He saw us messing with the lock,” Tansy countered. “And rather than threatening to punish us, he told us to make a run for it now because this might be our only chance.”
“Yeah, but he could have been lying,” Aster repeated. “This could all be a trap.” She’d been suspecting McClennon might try something else soon—maybe this was it. Let them think they’d found their freedom, then find them all guilty of the crime of attempted escape. Aster knew enough to question such a sudden turn of good fortune.
Clementine was already trying to pick the lock open again. Mallow glanced at Aster.
“Do you really think we can’t trust him?” she asked.
Aster hesitated. The houseboy hadn’t been like the raveners. She thought about how he hadn’t laughed at their suffering or tried to convince them to confess. How he’d always averted his eyes when the raveners pressured them into giving up their bodies. How he had likely suffered at McClennon’s hands, too, how he was perhaps a prisoner in his own right.
But, more than that, Aster found herself thinking of Violet, of Zee, of Sam and Eli. People Aster had trusted despite her fears, people who had rewarded that trust. There were times when refusing to give folks a chance could be more dangerous than putting your faith in them. Times when you couldn’t do it alone. Times when you needed help.
And Aster sensed, even if it frightened her, that this was one of those times.
“No,” Aster said finally, “I think we can trust him.” She leveled her eyes at Clementine. “And I think he’s right. We have to hurry.”
* * *
Just as the houseboy had promised, he’d left the cellar doors unlocked. Aster winced at the groan they let out when she pushed them open, but then the fresh air hit her, cool and clear as a creek on a summer day. By now it was dark outside, cold stars scattered across the sky. Aster shivered as wind blew down the stairwell, turning to look back at the others crowded on the steps behind her.
“On the count of three,” she whispered, hoping they didn’t hear the fear in her voice. “One—two—”
They ran.
Aster allowed herself a brief moment of relief as they stole away into the shadows, running alongside the house. There were no raveners in sight. Still, they had to assume one or two had been left to guard the property, and they could be anywhere.
“Which way, Aster?” Tansy whispered. They crouched low as they ran over the thick carpet of grass underfoot, going wide around the pools of light spilling out of the manor house’s windows. The smell of earth was heavy in Aster’s nose.
“We have to find Zee,” Clementine answered for her.
“And we will, but first we have to get well clear of this place,” Aster said. “The boy said the raveners were after Zee right now—how are we supposed to fight them all?”
“We can’t just leave him!”
“Quiet,” Aster pleaded. “We’ll find somewhere to lie low and figure out what’s going on. We can get help and come back for him. Or maybe he’s staying one step ahead of them, and we can find some way to catch up with him.”
“But—”
“We can’t run towards the raveners, Clem,” Mallow interrupted. “Not without our weapons or our horses or— Listen, if anyone can outfox those bastards, it’s Zee. Have a little faith in him.”
Clementine let it go, though Aster could tell she was still worried. Aster was worried, too—not just for Zee, but for themselves. They were in no shape to run for long. Adrenaline was keeping her going for now, but already her head was spinning and her limbs shaking from nearly a week of food and sleep deprivation.
Thump. Aster turned at the soft noise. Violet lay on the ground.
“Violet!” Aster cried in harsh whisper. They ran back to her. She was crumpled on the grass, her face death-pale and her eyes half-lidded and unseeing. Aster slapped her cheek gently. Violet moaned but didn’t come around. “Violet! Help her,” Aster said desperately, wheeling around to Tansy.
“I—I don’t know—if I can,” she stammered. “Stopping the Sweet Thistle, then going so long without food—I think it was too much for her body to handle.”
“Come on, then,” Aster said, “grab her legs.”
Aster’s heart pounded painfully, and even with each of them on one of Violet’s limbs, they barely had the strength to lift her. She felt dangerously close to fainting herself. Blackness ate at the corners of her vision as she struggled to hang onto Violet’s arm. And as soon as they managed to make it a few steps, Violet began retching.
“Quick, set her down, get her on her side!” Tansy ordered. “She’ll choke.”
Gunshots in the distance.
The raveners were coming.
Oh, by the dead—
“Aster.” Violet coughed weakly. She’d woken up. “Leave me here.”
“Hell no—”
“I can’t keep up. I—” She shuddered and retched again, dry heaves. “I don’t want you to die. Just go—”
“Shut up, Violet, we’re not going anywhere without you,” Mallow said angrily. She tried to pick Violet up again, but her arms trembled violently.
“I see their trail!” a man’s voice cried.
Aster looked at Clementine, panic coursing through her veins.
Her sister would die if they didn’t leave right now.
They all would.
“For once … in your damn life … just do as—as you’re told,” Violet begged.
Aster met her eyes, shaking her head.
No. They’ll kill her. No—
Violet’s eyelids fluttered again. Her stare was unfocused.
“Aster—” Tansy whispered.
“We’re leaving.” Aster’s voice sounded faraway in her own ears. She squeezed Violet’s hand and stood back up before she could change her mind. “Follow me.”
No one spoke as they ran away. And though her throat tightened with tears that refused to spill, Aster did not look back.
23
There was no way they’d be able to outrun their pursuers long in the shape they were in. Aster couldn’t even feel relief when they crossed over from the terrifying openness of the grass to the relative shelter of the woods. She had no idea where they were going, only that they had to get away from McClennon.
They all slowed to a walk as they made their way through the snarl of underbrush, climbing over roots and ducking under branches. They had no lantern to light their way, and the light of the stars was only just bright enough to see by. None of them spoke, the silence heavy as a tombstone.
You’re with us now, Violet. All the way. Aster’s own words echoed in her ears.
McClennon had made a liar of her.
A sudden rustle came from up ahead. Aster froze, signaling for the others to do the same. A silhouette of a man appeared between the trees, holding a rifle.
He lowered it slowly. His grin flashed in the dark. “And here I was thinking I’d have to break into the house.”
“Zee,” Clementine exhaled, her voice shaking. She ran forward and he swept her in a hug—and then, clearly to her surprise, he drew her into a kiss, too. He laughed self-consciously as she pulled away.
“I—I thought I lost you,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“Violet,” Clementine said miserably. “She—”
“She stayed behind,” Aster cut her off. They didn’t have time to celebrate finding Zee, and they didn’t have time to despair over leaving Violet behind. If they didn’t escape now, her sacrifice would have been for nothing. “We have to keep going.”
&
nbsp; Someone had to make the hard decisions.
“Shit,” Zee murmured. But he didn’t hesitate, motioning for them to follow him deeper into the woods.
“We heard the raveners were after you,” Tansy said. She sounded short of breath. They all did. Then again, it was near a miracle that they were standing at all.
“They were—they are,” Zee replied. “After I realized you all had been taken by McClennon, I tracked you to the estate. I kept trying to find a way past the raveners guarding the property, but they were too vigilant, and I always had to retreat before I had a chance to sneak through. One of them finally spotted me tonight, and a minute later they were all after me. I’ve managed to stay ahead of them, but I had no idea where to go—until I heard you all stumbling through the woods just now.”
“Do you have food?” Mallow asked.
“Food?”
“McClennon starved us,” Clementine explained.
“Ripping bastard,” Zee said blackly. “There’s an old abandoned holy house where I’ve been sheltering. Got a bit of food left over. I’ll take us there now.”
They told him the story of their captivity as they hiked through the forest as fast as they could. Aster felt like a sleepwalker moving through a nightmare. She was terrified that the raveners would catch up to them, especially since they were on horseback while she and the others were on foot. But Zee remained focused, guiding them through the dark and hiding their trail as they went.
“Here we are,” Zee said finally, pointing out the holy house. It was where the help who worked the McClennon estate had once worshipped, Aster suspected. There were some rundown houses as well. She wondered where the servants lived now. Something about the empty buildings boded ill.
But anything was better than McClennon’s basement.
“We can only stop for a moment,” Zee warned as Tansy collapsed onto one of the benches. “The raveners will find us if we stay the night here.” He ducked behind the pulpit and retrieved a knapsack and a canteen. Passed them around. Inside the knapsack were salt pork and dried bread. Aster had never been so happy to see the tasteless food in her life.
“We should go to straight to Lady Ghost from here,” Clementine said around a mouthful. “Violet told us how to find her.”
“Really?” Zee asked.
“Well, sort of,” Aster said, forcing away the hurt in her heart. “She gave us a clue. What do you know about a place called the Ten Claws? We think Lady Ghost might be hiding out in an abandoned theomite mine there.”
It suddenly seemed absurd to hope there was anything to this—that the Ten Claws existed, that Lady Ghost lived there, that Violet’s mother had known these things and that they had interpreted her story correctly. It suddenly seemed like these were the foolish hopes of people who desperately needed something to cling to. And maybe they had been all along.
But then, to Aster’s surprise, Zee nodded slowly.
“The Ten Claws?” he echoed. “I don’t know that name. But there are two hills north of here that the locals say look like a pair of cat’s paws, and a mine in the valley between them. I’d say it’s worth a look, at least.”
“Is it close?” Aster asked. She held her breath. They might have another monthlong journey ahead of them, for all she knew. One they’d be hard-pressed to survive.
But then Zee’s grin flickered back to life. “We can be there by the day after tomorrow.”
* * *
Aster knew they’d reached the right place the moment she saw the two hills in the distance. They weren’t the dusky red rock hills of the Scab, but the deep green of the forests of northern Arketta, the gray rock spiking up into ten jagged peaks. They stood stark against the blue sky.
Aster’s hope soared as high as the hills themselves, a sudden lightness in her chest that felt like falling up. She tried to quell it. The past two days had been endless, creeping through the woods, eating whatever food they could find, and sleeping rough without the comfort of their blankets or bedrolls. Aster still hadn’t recovered fully from her captivity—or from the shock of losing Violet. None of them had, it seemed. She felt brittle, unsure of herself, her mind like a broken mirror that had not quite been pieced back together fully, her body like a scarecrow rattling in the wind. They had come so far, endured so much, that she was not sure how she would find the strength to keep going if it turned out Lady Ghost was not here. The whole story might be just that—a story. Or worse, a trap, created to lure gullible fools to the hands of the law.
Aster’s fear was a familiar old friend at this point. It only wanted the best for her. But she’d learned, since leaving Green Creek, that it wasn’t always right. It had taken courage to run away from the welcome house, and it would take courage now to finish the job.
“Are we sure it’s the right place?” Clementine asked. Her fingers had traveled to her favor, tracing the ink there. Like Aster, she seemed afraid to hope too much.
But Aster nodded. “Looks like a pair of cat’s paws to me. As much as any hills could, at least. Have you ever been here, Zee?”
“No, but I’ve met other rangemen who have,” Zee said. “They say it’s hell in winter in the valley. The town here dried up a long time ago.”
There was no reason not to keep going, but they all stood silently at the edge of the trees, hesitating, gripped by the same fear.
Then Aster took a step forward.
The air was cool and crisp up here, not as bitter as the cold that descended on the Scab after sundown, but chilly enough that Aster’s skin prickled beneath her shirtsleeves as they left the shelter of the trees and made their way to the abandoned town below. Since it was still daytime, there wasn’t any sign of the remnants that had no doubt claimed the town for themselves. Aster didn’t care to imagine the place at night. She still couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched as she walked silently through the maze of empty buildings.
Finally Zee led them to the mouth of the mine shaft. There were no symbols here carved into the timber to mark it as anyplace special. He paused at the entrance, seeming uncertain, but perhaps not wanting to say anything. Aster pushed past him gently.
“Come on,” she said, her voice steady. It had been just over a month since they’d lit out from Green Creek, over a year since Aster’s Lucky Night, a full decade since her parents had sold her away. She nodded to herself. “We’ve waited long enough.”
Zee lit a lantern and they descended the mine shaft. It was even more rundown than the shaft at Red Claw—there was no plank path to guide them through the rubble, and at one point they even had to climb over a cave-in. No one spoke, but the silence between them was as charged as the air during a thunderstorm. Aster could sense their mounting excitement and worry with every echoing step.
When they reached the bottom of the mine shaft, two young women were waiting for them—each armed with voltric rifles.
The woman on the left had shaved her blond-white hair in a close military crop, while the woman on the right had wrapped her thick black hair in a dustkerchief. Both had favors—birds of some kind. Aster’s stomach dropped, disappointment crushing her heart in its fist. If they had favors … if Lady Ghost couldn’t actually remove the curse …
Was Lady Ghost even here?
Someone clearly was. Behind the two women was a tunnel sparkling with warm yellow lantern light.
Neither smiled, neither spoke, waiting for them to declare themselves.
Aster swallowed. “We’re here for Lady Ghost,” she said without much hope. She turned to show them her own favor. “We … we’ve come a long way.”
Finally the woman on the left smiled slightly. They both lowered their weapons. The woman on the right waved them forward.
“Follow me,” she said.
* * *
The two women led them down the tunnel to an open space about the size of Green Creek’s reception room, with mining lamps strung from the ceilings and spilling light into every corner. The room reminded Aster a little of
the meeting hall at Red Claw—filled with rows of long tables with a shorter table at the head where the leaders would sit. Several smaller tunnels branched off from this central chamber, perhaps leading to sleeping and storage spaces. About twenty women sat at the longer tables, chattering over their supper, but the head table was empty save for a single older woman who stood and started towards Aster and the others. She wore a black dress with a gray sash. Her skin was withered and white, her hair thin and ashen, wisping around her hollowed-out face. A hush fell over the crowd as she neared Aster.
Aster felt an absurd urge to curtsy or to bow or to thank her or apologize. Her throat swelled with tears. It was real, then, the story was real, Lady Ghost was real—
“Welcome,” the woman said, smiling gently. “I’m Lady Ghost.”
Aster reached out to shake her hand, but then the blond woman beside her spoke up.
“And I’m Lady Ghost,” she said.
“And I’m Lady Ghost.” The dark-skinned woman wearing the dustkerchief.
The women sitting at the tables spoke in a chorus. “I’m Lady Ghost.”
Aster looked around in confusion. She turned to Clementine.
“I don’t understand,” Aster stammered. “Is this some sort of joke? A test—?”
“It’s the truth,” the older woman said. “There has never been just one woman named Lady Ghost. It’s all of us, working together. The stories you’ve heard—we’ve all helped to tell them.” She nodded her head towards the front of the room. “Come sit with me, and I’ll explain.”
The two women who had escorted them returned to guard the mineshaft as Lady Ghost—what was her real name, Aster wondered—walked back to her table, slowly, as if it pained her. Aster and the others exchanged glances. They seemed just as confused as she felt, but that excited energy was still there, humming stronger than ever.
Finally, they were about to get some answers.
The other Lady Ghosts resumed eating and talking amongst themselves. Aster couldn’t help but notice, though, as she passed them, that they all had favors—some more faded than others, but still … maybe it took a long time to remove them? Years, even? Aster scratched at her neck self-consciously.
The Good Luck Girls Page 30
