Rebel Heart

Nero flaps down. He lands on the prow in front of me.

I’m crossin a lake in the mountains. In a bark canoe. I’m paddlin. Nero’s huddled, a ragged shadow, perched on the prow of the boat. He stares straight ahead. My pilot. My watchman. My crow.

It’s blackest night. It’s bitterest cold. Above me, the hard stars stab. Like chips of ice.

The water parts as my boat glides through. My paddle dips an drags. It dips. An drags.

I don’t look over the side. I don’t even dare to glance. If I did look, if I dared to, night or no, I’d see ’em. I’d look down down down to the bottom. To the ancient bed of the lake. Where the dark things crouch. Where the old things wait. Where they crouch an wait . . . fer me.

Not long after that first explosion, there’s another one. Much, much bigger. It shudders the water of the lake. Cracks the night in two. The boats in front of us slow. We all turn to look.

The top left corner of Resurrection’s bin blasted to the sky. Fire rampages. While we watch, that whole side of the buildin collapses an tumbles into the lake.

Creed’s eyes meet mine. The ammo store was in that corner, he says. D’you think—?

I got somethin I gotta do. That’s what Jack said.

Take me away from here, Creed, I says.

Ash an Molly land their boats well ahead of us. By the time me an Creed reach shore, they bin hauled into the trees an well hid with branches. We do the same, then follow a little path through the woods to the cave campsite that Bram told us about.

There’s a bite to the air. A sting to the mountain breeze. A sharp warnin of winter to come. Creed looks to the sky. Snow on the way, he says.

It’s too early fer snow, I says.

Yeah, maybe, he says.

He stops. Lugh’s standin in front of us in the path. He stands aside to let Creed go past.

She’s dead, says Lugh.

I nod. I clutch the blanket tight around me, shiverin. She saved my life, I says.

You’d think I’d be thankful fer that, he says. I don’t feel particularly thankful.

Tears start to my eyes. Please, I says. Maev was my friend.

Well, I got one up on you, he says. I loved her.

She knew, I says. I go to touch him, to put my hand on his arm, but he steps back.

I’ll give Jack one thing, he says, without him, we’d of never got Emmi outta that place. But she shouldn’t of bin there at all. As fer him sendin that message, draggin us into this, an you – he’s as selfish as you are. I blame the two of yuz fer everythin. Them four settlers, Bram, Maev . . . I lay all their deaths at yer feet. An fer what? Where’s the prize?

There ain’t one, I says.

You’ve betrayed me, he says.

Lugh, I says.

I ain’t got nuthin left to say to you, he says.

He’s like a stranger with his short hair an Tonton clothes. His most well beloved face is closed to me. I asked too much of him. Took too much from him. With no care fer him.

I’m sorry, Lugh, I says. I cain’t tell you . . . how much. Please. I need you. I love you.

He holds up both hands, shakin his head, as he backs away from me. He turns an stumbles off towards the cave.

We’re at some kinda end, Lugh an me. I feel it, a sharp, cruel pain, deep inside of me. In the safest, oldest, most joyful part of me. I wait till I git my tears unner control, then I follow him.

The cave’s a good size. Big enough fer Hermes an Prue to shelter inside as well. There’s a small fire goin. Ash an Tommo an Creed sit by it, warmin theirselfs. Lugh’s joined ’em, but a little ways apart, starin into the flames, not seein.

Tracker greets me with a nudge of his head. Molly wraps another blanket around my shoulders, starts rubbin warmth into me. Her eyes search my face, full of questions. Emmi comes up. She puts her arms around my waist an hugs me tight. Jack ain’t dead, she whispers.

Of course not, I says.

I didn’t think so, she says. I’d feel it if he was.

Molly’s eyes meet mine.

I brought some of my lethal whisky, she says. Put on some dry clothes, then come have a drink.

Me an Em stand there, her arms around me. She’s strong an steady when nuthin else is. She says, Slim said some people hope they’ll die in a . . . blaze of magnificent splendour, like the sun. I think that’s what Maev hoped.

I kiss her on the head. I’m a bad sister, I says.

You ain’t bin havin a easy time, she says.

No, I says.

The important thing is we stick together, she says. You an me an Lugh an Tommo. Will you be okay, Saba?

I dunno, I whisper. This time, I really don’t know.

She holds a blanket up while I crouch behind it to strip an change. I send her back to the fire, then I ball up the skivvies DeMalo gave me an toss ’em into a dark corner. As fer the fine boots, they’re my only ones. Much as I’d like to, I cain’t git rid of ’em. Anyways, I’ve told the lie that they came from Cassie, so I’ll stick to that. I wrap myself in Auriel’s shawl, an go to join everybody. Set my boots to dry by the fire. I stare into the flames in silence, like the rest of ’em.

I’m hollowed out. I walk, my heart beats, I breathe, but I ain’t here. It’s like I bin losin parts of myself all along the way. Back in the Waste with the ghost of Epona. With Auriel. With DeMalo. I wonder if the fire got to his tower room. If it burned him as he lay sleepin. An the last of me here, in this place. With Maev. An Jack.

Jack. It wouldn’t matter if I never saw him agin, as long as I know fer sure that he’s alive. That he didn’t git caught in the explosions or the fires. That would be enough. But somehow – like Emmi – I believe I’d feel it if he was dead.

Skins of Molly’s wormwood whisky pass around. Lugh broods in the shadows. He don’t look at me. He don’t look at nobody, an don’t say a word. Tommo sits beside him, the same.

Bring on sweet oblivion, says Creed. He takes a long drink.

There ain’t no such thing, says Molly. I should know. I tried often enough an hard enough.

When it’s my turn, I pass. I’m numb already. Nero sits in my lap an I stroke his feathers. When the skin gits to Lugh, it don’t go no further. He steadily works at it, him an Tommo, passin it back an forth between ’em. The fire hisses an pops. Everybody stares into it. Thinkin what they’re thinkin. Feelin what they’re feelin. Not speakin. Till Ash says to me, Guess you’ll be on yer way in the mornin.

To the land of milk an honey, says Creed.

I stand up, holdin Nero.

I’m goin fer a walk, I says.

With Nero in my arms, I make my way through the trees towards the lakeshore. The kindness of soft needles unner my bare feet. I reach the water’s edge an stand there fer a moment. The moonpath gleams down the middle of the lake. Cold an sharp. It looks real enough to walk on. Clouds scud across the moon an it disappears. They clear, an there it is agin.

Footsteps behind me. Lugh! I turn an my breath catches when I see who—

Oh! I says, it’s you, Tommo! I didn’t recognize you in them robes.

He comes closer. With purpose. He’s got my bow slung over one shoulder. I realize he’s bin carryin it since we left Bram’s.

Where did you go? he says. When you sent me off? You was gone a long time.

Fergit it, I says. It don’t matter.

He stands in front of me. The night shadows his face. I’d hardly know him in this light. He looks different. Older. A shiver runs over my skin. I rub my arms. It’s cold, I says.