Rebel Heart
Page 11Rabbits 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.
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.
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.
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.