Yes yes, my dearie, I know, I know. Not long now to wait, my heart.
My hands soothe him, promise him. Come what may, he’ll have his freedom. I’ll make sure he ain’t slave to no Tonton.
Cassie stands at the door with the baby in her arms, wrapped in the Tonton’s sheema. My belly’s twisted. My mouth’s dry. Mercy squeezes my shoulder. My eyes meet Jack’s. We’re takin a big chance here. Much bigger’n we did at the gully. It ain’t jest that I’ll be proved right or wrong. Cassie’s riskin her life. Liftin her mask. Obedient no more.
She straightens her back. Raises her head. She takes one deep breath an she knocks. Her gentle tap barely sounds on the heavy slab of wood.
Who is it? A man’s voice raises from inside. Unwelcome. Suspicious.
Noble, it’s Cassie, she says. Steward Cassie from Midway Rock.
Quick, heavy footsteps come to the door. Cassie? It’s the middle of the night. What’re you doin here after curfew?
Open the door, she says. Hurry. Please.
There’s a fumbled rush as he lifts the bar, then a tall, husky lad fills the doorway. He lights the night with a rush lantern. There’s a firestick unner his arm. Long life to the Pathfinder, he says. What’s the matter? What’s happened?
Cassie holds out the baby.
He stiffens. What’s that? he says.
It’s yer daughter, Noble. She raises her voice. Rae, I’ve got yer baby here.
There’s a sharp cry, a rush of feet, then Rae’s there. Her arms reach desperate fer the child. Noble blocks the doorway with his body so’s she cain’t git past. She pummels his back with a snarl of rage. How did you—? You stole her? he says.
Saved her, says Cassie. They left her in a ditch fer the night beasts to take.
Give her to me! Rae scrambles like a beast herself as she tries to shove past Noble. But he ain’t movin an he’s much bigger’n she is.
You shouldn’t of took her, he says to Cassie. She must be a good fer nuthin or they wouldn’t do that. The Pathfinder knows best.
There ain’t a thing wrong with this baby, says Cassie. Nuthin that good care an love from her parents cain’t make right. Look! She’s perfect. She came early is all. Cassie pulls away the sheema, shows Noble her limbs, but he don’t look. Not even a glance. The baby starts to cry, woke by the fuss. Cassie covers her up agin, soothes her.
We don’t want no trouble, says Noble. We ain’t havin no baby here. Our only family is the Earth, you know that. If they find out, it don’t bear thinkin what they might do to us.
He tries to shut the door, but with a No! Rae shoves herself between him an it.
They won’t find out, says Cassie. I’m gonna help you. We’re all gonna help you. We’re gonna help each other. Everythin’s changin, Noble. We ain’t livin unner the boot no more. We can heal the earth, work the land, raise our children, an not at the point of a gun.
That kinda talk’ll git you slaved or worse. Take her away now, I mean it, he says. Rae, hush, please! Cain’t you see I’m tryin to do what’s right here?
Rae’s pushin him, pullin him. Let! Her! In! she says. Three words, each one jaggedly fierce.
I got a elder with me right here, says Cassie. She knows all about babies. She’ll teach you how to care fer her, what she needs. Most of all, she needs you. Her father an mother.
Ohmigawd, what’re you doin? says Noble. What’s happenin here? You can tell he’s startin to waver. Fer the first time, he looks at the baby. Well how about that, he says. She’s got a nose jest like my ma. In his voice there’s both wonder an defeat.
She’s made from yer own flesh an blood, Noble. She’s yer child, says Cassie. I got some friends here I want you to meet.
At that, me an Mercy walk outta the dark into the light of the lantern. Noble sees my tattoo right away. Ohmigawd, he says. He tries to raise his firestick, but he’s jugglin that an the lantern an keepin Rae an Cassie at bay an he was already on the verge, so his last defence crumbles.
With a cry of relief, Rae seizes the baby, Cassie slips past him an the two of ’em disappear into the cabin. I raise my hands an me an Mercy keep on comin.
We ain’t got no weapons, Noble, I says. We ain’t armed. We’re here to help.
He flattens hisself to one side to let us pass. His face tangles in complete confusion. His hair’s askew. I smile, friendly-like. Try to look normal, not ghostly. His gaze twitches to Nero, perched on the tree in his yard. To the starwild sky an the wind pointer as it chitters to an fro. Then he looks back at me, eyes wide.
I hitched a ride on the wind, I says.
I close the door behind me. Close it on two nervous people with a newborn child an Mercy to show ’em the way. I lean aginst the door fer a moment. I let out a long, thankful breath. One baby. One tiny crack. It worked.
Everythin okay? Jack’s low, husky voice rides the dark easily. I go to him. He’s leanin aginst the shed, huddled in his cloak.
I’m okay, I says, but that baby’s got problems. Her name’s Lucky Star. Luck, fer short.
He winces. I know a tavern called the Lucky Star, he says. Scurviest dump in the livelong world.
I invite myself inside his cloak. Fold myself around his heat, his heartbeat. His arms circle my waist. But he takes his time, I notice.
So, he says. Ruthless killer sees the error of her ways. How does it feel?
Like this, I says. I take his face in my hands an I kiss him. With relief. With hope. With the newness of a day that I ain’t never seen. With somethin my dustborn soul don’t know the name of.
I wanna be with you tonight, I whisper. Jack, I—
He pulls away. His eyes pull the warmth from me as he says, I won’t have too much to lose, d’you hear?
My bones take the stab. Quick an cold. I know what he means right away. He means he will not love me. He will not give all to me. He’s lost all before. What he loved most dearly. His child. His Gracie.
Fer all he’s said to me before, how he feels about me, he’s drawin the line, steppin back from the line. But why why why? What’s brought him to this? Only two nights ago, we lay together. In the bed he’d made of fir boughs. Maybe I didn’t hear him right. Maybe he—
He sets me away from him. Out from his arms. When we was in that white room, he says. With DeMalo’s fake visions. What did you mean when you said, them people in the bunks?
The smell of danger prickles my scalp. I don’t remember sayin that, I says.
Well you did, he says. You said, when them people lay on them bunks fer the very last time, they died with hope that somebody would find the seedstore one day. What people in the bunks? How d’you know people died there?
But why? This is why. Ohmigawd, I let that slip. Does he suspect I was in the vision room before? One wrong word here, this could all break open. Be careful. Be very careful.
I really don’t remember sayin that, I says. But, uh … I dunno, I guess I jest imagined what might of happened. Like you said, it was a lot to take in all at once. The seedstore an the maps an the vision room, the bunks. I s’pose I jest seen it all an made a story that made sense of it to me. Didn’t you? Ain’t that what anybody’d do?
I dunno, you tell me, he says.
An I’m thinkin, that don’t sound like he believes me. Would I believe me if I was him? My mind dashes about, tryin to think what else I might of let slip. It ain’t like him not to say what’s on his mind. Not to chide me direct fer my sins. But then Cassie’s comin outta the cabin an Jack’s sayin, completely normal, like he didn’t jest maybe very possibly stick a knife in me,
My hands soothe him, promise him. Come what may, he’ll have his freedom. I’ll make sure he ain’t slave to no Tonton.
Cassie stands at the door with the baby in her arms, wrapped in the Tonton’s sheema. My belly’s twisted. My mouth’s dry. Mercy squeezes my shoulder. My eyes meet Jack’s. We’re takin a big chance here. Much bigger’n we did at the gully. It ain’t jest that I’ll be proved right or wrong. Cassie’s riskin her life. Liftin her mask. Obedient no more.
She straightens her back. Raises her head. She takes one deep breath an she knocks. Her gentle tap barely sounds on the heavy slab of wood.
Who is it? A man’s voice raises from inside. Unwelcome. Suspicious.
Noble, it’s Cassie, she says. Steward Cassie from Midway Rock.
Quick, heavy footsteps come to the door. Cassie? It’s the middle of the night. What’re you doin here after curfew?
Open the door, she says. Hurry. Please.
There’s a fumbled rush as he lifts the bar, then a tall, husky lad fills the doorway. He lights the night with a rush lantern. There’s a firestick unner his arm. Long life to the Pathfinder, he says. What’s the matter? What’s happened?
Cassie holds out the baby.
He stiffens. What’s that? he says.
It’s yer daughter, Noble. She raises her voice. Rae, I’ve got yer baby here.
There’s a sharp cry, a rush of feet, then Rae’s there. Her arms reach desperate fer the child. Noble blocks the doorway with his body so’s she cain’t git past. She pummels his back with a snarl of rage. How did you—? You stole her? he says.
Saved her, says Cassie. They left her in a ditch fer the night beasts to take.
Give her to me! Rae scrambles like a beast herself as she tries to shove past Noble. But he ain’t movin an he’s much bigger’n she is.
You shouldn’t of took her, he says to Cassie. She must be a good fer nuthin or they wouldn’t do that. The Pathfinder knows best.
There ain’t a thing wrong with this baby, says Cassie. Nuthin that good care an love from her parents cain’t make right. Look! She’s perfect. She came early is all. Cassie pulls away the sheema, shows Noble her limbs, but he don’t look. Not even a glance. The baby starts to cry, woke by the fuss. Cassie covers her up agin, soothes her.
We don’t want no trouble, says Noble. We ain’t havin no baby here. Our only family is the Earth, you know that. If they find out, it don’t bear thinkin what they might do to us.
He tries to shut the door, but with a No! Rae shoves herself between him an it.
They won’t find out, says Cassie. I’m gonna help you. We’re all gonna help you. We’re gonna help each other. Everythin’s changin, Noble. We ain’t livin unner the boot no more. We can heal the earth, work the land, raise our children, an not at the point of a gun.
That kinda talk’ll git you slaved or worse. Take her away now, I mean it, he says. Rae, hush, please! Cain’t you see I’m tryin to do what’s right here?
Rae’s pushin him, pullin him. Let! Her! In! she says. Three words, each one jaggedly fierce.
I got a elder with me right here, says Cassie. She knows all about babies. She’ll teach you how to care fer her, what she needs. Most of all, she needs you. Her father an mother.
Ohmigawd, what’re you doin? says Noble. What’s happenin here? You can tell he’s startin to waver. Fer the first time, he looks at the baby. Well how about that, he says. She’s got a nose jest like my ma. In his voice there’s both wonder an defeat.
She’s made from yer own flesh an blood, Noble. She’s yer child, says Cassie. I got some friends here I want you to meet.
At that, me an Mercy walk outta the dark into the light of the lantern. Noble sees my tattoo right away. Ohmigawd, he says. He tries to raise his firestick, but he’s jugglin that an the lantern an keepin Rae an Cassie at bay an he was already on the verge, so his last defence crumbles.
With a cry of relief, Rae seizes the baby, Cassie slips past him an the two of ’em disappear into the cabin. I raise my hands an me an Mercy keep on comin.
We ain’t got no weapons, Noble, I says. We ain’t armed. We’re here to help.
He flattens hisself to one side to let us pass. His face tangles in complete confusion. His hair’s askew. I smile, friendly-like. Try to look normal, not ghostly. His gaze twitches to Nero, perched on the tree in his yard. To the starwild sky an the wind pointer as it chitters to an fro. Then he looks back at me, eyes wide.
I hitched a ride on the wind, I says.
I close the door behind me. Close it on two nervous people with a newborn child an Mercy to show ’em the way. I lean aginst the door fer a moment. I let out a long, thankful breath. One baby. One tiny crack. It worked.
Everythin okay? Jack’s low, husky voice rides the dark easily. I go to him. He’s leanin aginst the shed, huddled in his cloak.
I’m okay, I says, but that baby’s got problems. Her name’s Lucky Star. Luck, fer short.
He winces. I know a tavern called the Lucky Star, he says. Scurviest dump in the livelong world.
I invite myself inside his cloak. Fold myself around his heat, his heartbeat. His arms circle my waist. But he takes his time, I notice.
So, he says. Ruthless killer sees the error of her ways. How does it feel?
Like this, I says. I take his face in my hands an I kiss him. With relief. With hope. With the newness of a day that I ain’t never seen. With somethin my dustborn soul don’t know the name of.
I wanna be with you tonight, I whisper. Jack, I—
He pulls away. His eyes pull the warmth from me as he says, I won’t have too much to lose, d’you hear?
My bones take the stab. Quick an cold. I know what he means right away. He means he will not love me. He will not give all to me. He’s lost all before. What he loved most dearly. His child. His Gracie.
Fer all he’s said to me before, how he feels about me, he’s drawin the line, steppin back from the line. But why why why? What’s brought him to this? Only two nights ago, we lay together. In the bed he’d made of fir boughs. Maybe I didn’t hear him right. Maybe he—
He sets me away from him. Out from his arms. When we was in that white room, he says. With DeMalo’s fake visions. What did you mean when you said, them people in the bunks?
The smell of danger prickles my scalp. I don’t remember sayin that, I says.
Well you did, he says. You said, when them people lay on them bunks fer the very last time, they died with hope that somebody would find the seedstore one day. What people in the bunks? How d’you know people died there?
But why? This is why. Ohmigawd, I let that slip. Does he suspect I was in the vision room before? One wrong word here, this could all break open. Be careful. Be very careful.
I really don’t remember sayin that, I says. But, uh … I dunno, I guess I jest imagined what might of happened. Like you said, it was a lot to take in all at once. The seedstore an the maps an the vision room, the bunks. I s’pose I jest seen it all an made a story that made sense of it to me. Didn’t you? Ain’t that what anybody’d do?
I dunno, you tell me, he says.
An I’m thinkin, that don’t sound like he believes me. Would I believe me if I was him? My mind dashes about, tryin to think what else I might of let slip. It ain’t like him not to say what’s on his mind. Not to chide me direct fer my sins. But then Cassie’s comin outta the cabin an Jack’s sayin, completely normal, like he didn’t jest maybe very possibly stick a knife in me,
