A Secret of Birds & Bone

by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

  ‘Mamma made this,’ she said, her excitement rising with her voice. ‘She must have. Mamma was here.’

  Ghino let out a low whistle. ‘Clever.’

  ‘Genius,’ said Sofia. ‘That’s what Mamma is.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Ghino. ‘Why did she put them there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sofia replied. The tunnel seemed to hold a different quality of air, seemed to be sucking her forwards. ‘But we need to find out.’

  Sofia pulled the thread, setting off the counterweight attached to the cogs, and the largest stone in the rockfall swung up, as simply as opening a door. Ahead of them was another tunnel.

  ‘Che cavolo,’ murmured Ghino.

  Sofia snorted. ‘What does cabbage have to do with anything?’

  Ghino flushed. ‘How have I never seen this?’

  ‘You weren’t looking properly,’ said Sofia. ‘Only I’d recognize Mamma’s work anywhere.’

  ‘And me,’ added Ermin. ‘What now? Do we go home or . . .’

  But Sofia knew going home was impossible now. There was a new plan. A plan to follow where this path of Mamma’s led.

  ‘We go this way,’ she said. ‘We have to.’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything,’ muttered Ghino.

  ‘Go then,’ said Sofia, trying not to give away that she was bluffing. Without Ghino’s lamp, they’d be lost. Ghino stared her out until Ermin sighed, like a tired old man.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘Fine,’ said Ghino sourly, but Sofia could tell he was excited by the way his eyes flashed.

  She took the lead this time, and Ghino gestured for Ermin to go ahead.

  ‘Close the door,’ said Sofia over her shoulder. Ghino shook his head.

  ‘No way,’ he said. ‘Never cut off a possible exit, that’s the first rule of living underground.’

  Sofia opened her mouth to argue, but Ermin stayed her with a hand on her wrist. ‘No one’s following us, Sofia.’

  ‘Fine,’ she muttered. ‘Pass me the lamp then.’

  She soon regretted not having her hands free, as the tunnel began to narrow almost instantly. In no time they were crawling and Sofia had to transfer a ruffled Corvith from her arm to her back, where he sat down between her shoulder blades. She could feel him grooming himself, snapping his beak as she pulled herself forwards along the ground.

  Fright was hammering through her chest but at least it distracted her from the thought of how small this space was, how much weight was above them – the whole city hovering over their heads . . .

  Almost.

  ‘You all right?’ she called back.

  ‘I am,’ said Ermin shakily and squeezed her ankle, the only part he could reach.

  ‘I don’t know why we had to go this way when we were so close to the route out,’ said Ghino. ‘At least hurry up.’

  Sofia ground her teeth. It was very well for him to say – he was used to scurrying around down here like a rabbit.

  ‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ she said. ‘Corvith’s not happy though.’

  ‘No-So!’ confirmed the crow.

  The walls began to run with beaded water, soaking into their clothes, and the air chilled to the point that Sofia lifted the collar of her tunic so Corvith could shuffle underneath to rest against her skin and keep warm.

  The passage widened and narrowed at almost every turn, as though they moved through the belly of a snake like a meal of dormice, which at that moment felt no more fantastical than the reality.

  At last the ground changed from stone to dirt, which made crawling less painful. Here and there Sofia could see through the mud to rock, pale and gleaming. She scratched it with her fingernail.

  ‘Chalk,’ she said. ‘These are chalk hills.’

  ‘Where’s all this water coming from?’ asked Ermin.

  ‘We’re near the river,’ said Sofia. ‘We must be.’

  ‘I’ve heard there is a secret river below the hills,’ said Ghino excitedly. ‘A blessed, hidden river. I’ve never come this close to it before!’

  ‘The current sounds strong,’ said Sofia. ‘So why are the wells in the city so empty?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Ghino. ‘Keep going.’

  Sofia rotated her sore neck, her hair swishing at Corvith who snapped at it impatiently. ‘All right Cor,’ she said, reaching over her shoulder and letting the crow nip at her finger.

  They rounded an upwardly curving corner and suddenly the tunnel filled with a rushing sound. Sofia flinched – if water found them here, the tunnel would fill in no time.

  But instead of being engulfed by a torrent of water, Sofia found herself on a ledge. She wiggled into a sitting position, her legs out before her. She inched forwards and her feet slipped over a drop. A gasp escaped her lips.

  It was a cavern, as big as their bone house. The walls were dripping water and, illuminated by the lamp, tinged a dancing blue by the rippling pool at the centre.

  ‘Look at this place,’ Sofia whispered, pushing herself off the ledge and landing clumsily on the chalky ground.

  It felt unspoilt and special, like a natural church. It took Sofia back to the first time she visited the cathedral, the vast space echoing with prayers and the smell of incense heavy in the air.

  Here, the only sounds came from a spring just above the pool – faint, tinkling whispers, as though the water was talking, calling her. She walked closer, her fingers tingling. There was a rope secured to a rivet at its edge, trailing into the water. The pool seemed very deep, its blue changing from light to dark to black. She wanted to trail her fingers in it, to dip her sore feet, to sink into the murky depths . . .

  She could see bubbles rising to the surface and carved into the white chalk around the curve of the pool were three words: sorgente della santa.

  ‘Look,’ she breathed, and felt Ermin scrunch up behind her. ‘Saint’s Spring.’

  Corvith took off from her back, squawking his displeasure at the hard landing. He flapped his ungainly way round the space, sore wing obviously fully healed, and settled on a ledge about halfway up the wall.

  The air in the cavern felt cleaner, less stifling, and Sofia took deep, cleansing breaths, stretching her lungs and body. She hoped there would be no more crawling. Ghino approached the pool, her amazement mirrored in his dark eyes.

  ‘Have you ever been here?’

  Ghino shook his head.

  They searched for more signs of Mamma but the only hint she, or anyone, had been there was the writing about the water’s edge and the rope beside it, leading to depths, the colour of a winternight sky.

  She knelt beside the pool, the ground damp beneath her, knees cupped by imprints in the soft rock where someone had knelt before. She ran her hands over the marks and noticed more, pitting the surface round the edge of the pool. Almost as if many people over many years had knelt here in prayer. Perhaps Mamma had been one of them. It was the same in the cathedral, the steps surrounding the saints’ relics dipped by decades of knees.

  She leant over the water and again the tingling in her fingers began. Her reflection wavered in the surface as her breath hit it. She was a dark shadow, her hair slicked down with sweat, claggy with dust.

  She pulled on the rope, expecting a bucket to rise from the watery depths, but it appeared fixed and immovable. She dipped her hands into the pool, and the water was so cold it sucked the warmth from her fingers. She gathered a palmful and drank, the cool liquid hitting her throat like a breath of icy air. It was sweet and delicious, like the water from their well at home and the same sort of calm she felt there washed through her.

  ‘Is it good?’ asked Ghino. She looked up. His cloth had slipped off his chin, showing his scarred face, and his expression was stretched open and alight with wonder. Sofia was not so shocked by his appearance this time. It was different, but weren’t all faces? She looked away quickly, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, and nodded. He dropped to his knees beside her. She realized he was trembling.


  ‘You’ve really never been here?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘I never knew this place existed.’ He pointed at the writing. ‘What does that say? And no, I can’t read. So if you’re going to make fun of me, just go ahead.’

  Sofia flushed. ‘I wasn’t going to.’ The truth was, she probably would have done. She was starting to realize that she thought of herself as better than Ghino, and it wasn’t a nice thing to think.

  ‘Saint’s Spring,’ she said.

  Ghino leant over the pool, so close he looked like he might topple in. ‘So this water is blessed?’

  Sofia shrugged. ‘Maybe. Someone believes it is.’

  Ghino reached down and splashed his face a few times. Then he ran his fingers over his scars and Sofia realized he was feeling if the water had faded the marks.

  ‘Worth a try.’ Ghino sighed heavily and cupped some more water to drink. Together they sat, drinking handful after handful of fresh water.

  ‘Well,’ Ermin said, elbowing them apart and plonking himself down between them. ‘What now?’

  Sofia turned her attention back to the surface of the water, still again now aside from the trail of bubbles at its centre. Ghino held the lamp out over it, and the light funnelled down to the far-off bottom.

  ‘What if it’s another way?’ She tugged on the fixed rope again. ‘Another way out of here.’

  ‘What?’ asked Ermin.

  Sofia indicated the pool. ‘Here.’

  There was a pause, and then Ghino burst into nervous laughter. ‘You’ve lost it.’

  Sofia glared at him. ‘The writing, the rope. They’re clues, like the cogs.’

  ‘They can’t have been left by your mamma?’ said Ghino incredulously.

  ‘That rope must go somewhere.’

  ‘So?’

  Sofia looked back to the pool. She was so sure that Mamma was leading them on – and if not Mamma, then something only Sofia understood. The path was meant for her and it felt important, the most important journey of her life.

  ‘So,’ said Sofia, hauling a courage she hardly felt into her voice, ‘let’s find out where.’

  She began to slip off her shoes.

  ‘No way,’ said Ghino. ‘That’s mad! We can just go back the way we came.’

  ‘But we came this way because of Mamma’s route,’ said Sofia. ‘We can’t stop now.’

  ‘We can—’

  ‘Shush!’ said Ermin, holding up his hands. He pointed to Corvith, still high up on the wall. The crow was very still, beady eyes wide, his feathers twitching.

  ‘What is it, Corvith?’ hissed Sofia. ‘Is someone coming?’

  Corvith took off, gliding back along the passage that had brought them to the spring. Sofia’s belly flipped. If someone was coming, there was nowhere to hide.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Ghino nervously.

  ‘Going in, obviously,’ she said, standing in her tunic and underthings.

  ‘I can go,’ said Ermin. ‘I’m a better swimmer.’

  It was true. When Mamma had taught them in the lake outside Siena, before the smallpox came, Sofia had been too old to really take to it the way Ermin could. Her brain was already too full of thoughts of what could go wrong. Her little brother had charged into the water squealing, and within minutes was swimming alongside Mamma as though he’d been born to it.

  ‘Little otter,’ said Mamma, laughing. ‘Come on, swan.’ She called Sofia this because she tried to keep her neck long and high out of the water while she furiously paddled beneath the surface.

  But this water was different. It felt like coming home, even sitting beside it. The thought of diving in should scare her, but she felt only a sense of calm settling over her like a blanket.

  ‘No,’ she said in answer to Ermin’s question. ‘I’ll go first. I’m taller, and stronger.’

  ‘I’m not doing it.’ Ghino swallowed. ‘I can’t swim. And I can’t hear anyone coming. Maybe your crow’s just paranoid.’

  ‘He’s not.’

  Ghino did not take his eyes from her face. ‘You shouldn’t do this. It’s dangerous.’

  Sofia laughed hollowly. ‘And crawling beneath the city isn’t? Bring the lamp.’

  Ermin did so as she sat on the edge of the pool, her feet trailing into the water. Her toes immediately burned in that strange way skin does if something is too cold, like the body makes itself fire to stop you realizing you’re freezing. The pool glowed a lighter blue and Sofia stared down, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bottom.

  ‘Wait,’ said Ghino, flapping about. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  But Sofia knew there was no other way she could go. She was sure Mamma had been here, sure that Mamma had written these words, likely placed this rope. Sofia was determined to find out why.

  ‘I’m sure. Now shut up, we’re running out of time to find out what’s down there.’

  Both boys stood back, biting their lips nervously. They looked like baby birds watching their mother leaving the nest, or maybe like parent birds watching their baby take its first flight.

  Sofia didn’t give herself time to think about it. She leant forward, shuffling off the edge of the pool and into the water.

  The pool clenched round her body like an icy fist, and the breath Sofia had taken was knocked from her chest. She kicked up, arms so cold she did not immediately recognize air from water until she felt Ghino’s hands grip her wrist and steady her palm on a rock.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ermin was peering into her face as she spluttered.

  ‘F-f-fine.’

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ said Ghino. ‘You haven’t even gone under properly yet. I really don’t think—’

  But Sofia did not give him a chance to finish. It was too cold in the pool to waste time. She pushed off the rock and bent her body, diving down and kicking, churning the water and following the rope into the depths.

  Almost immediately, she felt a current swirl round her arms and then her chest. She descended further, her ears popping with the pressure. The current caressed her legs but she tugged herself free and opened her eyes.

  She looked up, her eyeballs aching with the cold and her ears throbbing. She was not so deep, perhaps two metres down. Above, the surface was a circle of light ruptured by rocks and the dark outlines of Ghino and her brother.

  She took firmer hold of the rope and kicked off again, pumping her legs harder and keeping her eyes wide open.

  The water was clear enough to see her arms in front of her, but not enough to spot the bottom. She jarred her wrist painfully on a strange surface pitted with holes and too smooth to be rock, with a current swirling powerfully round it. Her lungs began to burn and she kicked back to the surface, gasping.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Ghino.

  ‘Something’s down there. I just ran out of air.’

  She turned her back on them and dived again – kicking down, down, until she reached the bottom once again.

  She widened her eyes, hooking her foot under a rock to hold herself in place, and brought her face right up close to what she could now see was a grate. She tried to lift it, but it was bolted in place.

  The holes were too regular for it to be anything but man-made. As Sofia hooked her fingers through it, she realized she had been wrong – it was woman-made. And not just any woman: her mamma. It had to be, because the grate was not metal, or wood, but bone. A lattice of locked ribs, so perfect it took Sofia’s remaining breath away.

  She didn’t want to return to the surface but she did, her heart sending warm blood fast round her body, so excited she didn’t even feel the cold.

  ‘A grate,’ she gasped. ‘A bone grate.’

  ‘Mamma?’ said Ermin.

  ‘It must be.’

  ‘Is it beautiful?’ said Ermin.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You two are weird about bones, huh?’ said Ghino.

  Sofia ignored him. Her heart thudded louder. Mamma must have been here. But how? And what was below the grate?
>
  Corvith came wheeling from the passage. ‘So-so!’ He flew to the pool, flapping round the cavern. ‘Go-so!’

  ‘There are people!’ she gasped. ‘People coming?’

  Corvith ducked and dived, his panic confirming it.

  Only Ghino seemed unaffected, watching the crow with disinterest. ‘What people?’

  ‘What does that matter?’

  Ghino shrugged. ‘They might be able to help us, tell us what this place is.’

  ‘Ghino,’ hissed Sofia. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘How long do we have?’ asked Ermin desperately.

  ‘Push in that rock,’ she said, nodding at the boulder beside him. ‘It’ll get me down there faster.’

  As soon as it began to tip, Sofia filled her lungs with the biggest breath yet and grabbed hold. She and the rock plunged. She let go just before the boulder hit the bottom to save her fingers getting crushed, and held on to the grate. She felt quickly round the sides, conscious of her breath already straining at her lungs, and, as she’d expected, found nothing.

  Her mother had many mechanisms for fixing things in place. Locks were her favourite, but sometimes a customer wanted a hingeless box and Sofia would watch her mother hiding her workings with even more skill than usual.

  ‘People are used to feeling the edges,’ Mamma would say, ‘they never suspect the way in is at the heart.’

  Sofia felt her way to the centre of the grate and hooked her finger into the centre square. She pushed right: nothing. She pushed left, and felt a sliding. She braced her foot against the rock and pushed harder, her lungs starting to burn. She felt, rather than heard, the click and the ribs of the grate concertina’d on invisible hinges, like a broken spider’s web.

  She began to spin as the water formed into a vortex, pulling at her feet, and she was suddenly above it, gasping in air. Corvith was shrieking over her head, helpless.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she heard Ermin shout, and then Ghino’s answer: ‘The water is draining!’

  ‘Spread your arms!’ Ermin shouted to Sofia.