Rebel Heart (36 page)

Another dress, I says. I take it with reluctant hands. You got a sister or somethin?

Or something. He smiles. Get changed and we’ll eat. He goes out an shuts the door.

There’s a lookin glass on the wall. I’m starin straight into it. He’s right, my colour’s high. The heartstone burns, but I ain’t got time to think about what that means. Not now. I jest gotta git outta here as fast as I can. Without no trouble, without raisin no alarm. How long since I left Tommo? A few minutes, no more.

The red hot’s runnin high in me. But I cain’t use it to fight, not in the normal way. This ain’t the Cage. DeMalo’s stronger’n me in body an mind. That means I gotta turn it. Try to use the red hot in my head, not my gut. I know what he does to me, I know the danger. I cain’t let him drown me like before. Disappear me.

I pull on the red dress an lace it up. I check myself in the glass, turnin this way an that. The dress dips low at the neck, nips tight at the waist, like somethin Molly might wear. I hardly recognize myself. I look womanly. That must be what he wants.

If you know yer enemy’s weak point, go fer it hard. I gotta be outta here in five minutes. Time starts now. I tuck Slim’s tiny brown bottle safely aginst my breast. My stummick’s fluttery with nerves. I take a deep breath. I open the door.

He’s pourin wine at the table. He looks up. You’re beautiful, he says. He holds a cup of wine out to me. I go over an take it.

A toast, he says. To a new world.

To you an me, I says.

We drink. His eyes look heavy. Bruised. Exhausted. Somehow I gotta distract his attention so’s I can doctor his wine.

The food’s ready, he says. Shall we eat?

You look tired, I says. I take his cup from him an put it on the table with mine. Sit, I says. He does.

I slide onto his lap, facin him, an put my arms around his neck. Shut my body to the burn of the heartstone, the heat of his arms about my waist.

I’m sorry I ran away this mornin, I says. The truth is . . . nobody’s ever made me feel like you do. It was all too much. I had to be by myself, to think. About what you said. About who I am an what I can be an . . . I realized yer right. The way things are now, it won’t do. We need to find a new way. A meaninful future, that’s what you said.

He smiles.

There ain’t no point to this life, I says, to all that we go through, if we don’t at least try to make things better. I wanna make the world a better place. With you.

I knew we were meant to be together, he says. That first time I saw you.

I whisper in his ear, I cain’t stop thinkin about bein with you.

I slide offa his lap, take his hand an lead him to the bedroom. Jest like that, he comes with me. I cain’t believe how easy it is. The power of a red dress.

We sit beside each other on the bed. I stroke his hair back from his face. Yer eyes look heavy, I says.

I . . . get these headaches sometimes, he says. I can’t do anything about them.

I can, I says. Lie down, I’ll be right back.

I slip outta the room, hurry to the table an fill the two cups with wine. One of ’em’s got a little dent in one side. I reach into my dress an pull out the brown bottle. My hands is steady, ice cold as I unstop it. I can hear Slim’s voice in my head.

One drop, a man’ll sleep eight hours. Two drops, he’ll do a whole day, maybe half of the next.

An three?

The longest sleep of all. Use it with a cool head.

I check over my shoulder. I can hear DeMalo movin in the bedroom. I hold my breath as I drip the liquid into the dented cup. One drop. Two. I hesitate.

His bruised, weary eyes.

I shove the stopper back in the bottle an tuck it into my dress. I swirl the tainted wine. Take both of the cups an head back to DeMalo.

He’s lyin on the bed, rubbin his head with one hand. He’s barefoot, no shirt, jest his britches. With the door key in his pocket. I sit beside him. Hand him the dented cup. We drink. I suddenly realize I ain’t got no idea how long it takes to kick in. Slim didn’t say an now I curse myself fer not askin.

Lie down with me, he says. Take off your boots.

I don’t wanna. But I cain’t think of a good enough reason not to, so I do. He pulls me down beside him an holds me in his arms. The candlelight plays shadows over his face. Gleams on the smooth skin of his chest. He smells like a mountain forest on a cold, dark night.

That’s better, he says.

What does this mean? I says. I touch the tattoo over his heart, a red, risin sun.

Every Tonton gets one, he says. Once they’ve proved their dedication to the good of the earth. To New Eden. To me.

How? By killin? I says.

Cleaning the infected wound, he says. You’ve done the same. At Hopetown. Freedom Fields.

Then I’ll hafta git one too, I says.

He touches my bare skin, jest above my heart. It shivers at his touch. No, he says. You’re perfect as you are.

He tugs on the end of the string that laces the front of my dress. It starts to slip free. The bottle, he mustn’t find it. I grab his wrist. Harder than I mean to. He frowns.

What’re these? I says. I touch the thin silver band that he wears around his left wrist. I noticed it earlier in his tent. It’s got strange marks etched into it.

Nothing, he says. He frees hisself, leanin closer to kiss me. I stiffen.

What’s the matter? he says. His hand brushes aginst the heartstone. He pulls away quick. It’s hot, he says, surprised.

It’s a heartstone, I says. The closer you get to your heart’s desire, the hotter it burns.

Am I your heart’s desire? he says.

That’s what the stone says. I start tracin his face with one finger. Lightly. Slowly. His forehead, his eyebrows. His cheekbones, his nose, his lips. I’m sorry, I says. I hafta git used to . . . bein with you like this.

I wanted to tell you, he says. I’ve found something amazing. If it’s what I think it is, it’s going to change everything. It’s going to make it possible for us to—

Shhh, I says.

His eyelids start to droop. So heavy, he murmurs. Feels like I’m being . . . pulled under. Feels like . . . Ahhh, he breathes. The wine. You put something in it. Are you killing me, Saba?

By the candlelight, in the dark of his eyes, I see a tiny reflection. It’s me.

I kiss his lips softly. G’bye, Seth, I says. His eyes close. His chest rises an falls. Rises an falls. His breathin deepens.

Seth, I says. Seth?

No answer. He’s out.

I grab the knife from unner the rug, unlock the door to DeMalo’s room an hurry down the stairs. Then I hitch up the red dress an, boots in hand, I run. Fast as I can, quiet in bare feet. A night-time hush thickens the air. Down the long, long corridor of the fourth floor. Past the bolted room where the weak-chinned commander dreams of crows.

As far as I can tell, I was only with DeMalo a few minutes. But his room, his tent, the Wrecker bunker, they’re all places outta time. Where real life stops. An this place . . . Without the sky to tell me, I got no idea how much of the night’s passed. It’s like bein trapped unnerground.

Tommo must of put the rope in place long ago. He’ll be in a panic, wonderin where I am. What if they all left without me? What if I’m trapped here? If I am, I got nobody to blame but myself. Set on revenge when all I should be thinkin about is Emmi. Lugh’s right. I’m obsessed with Jack. If I do git outta here, I’ll make it up to her.

Suddenly – not more’n fifteen foot ahead of me – a door opens. I press aginst the wall. Two Tonton come out. They stand in the corridor, talkin in low voices.

I don’t breathe, don’t even blink. I clutch the knife tight, ready to slash out. Inside my head, I’m screamin at ’em to move, to go. Somethin drips on my head. Hot. Painful. I raise my eyes. I’m right unner a wall candle. A drip lands on my forehead. I don’t even wince.

At last, they start to move, still talkin. I let myself breathe agin, let my face screw in pain. I wait till their footsteps fade. Then I hurry after ’em.

Finally. There it is. The open metal staircase that runs up the middle of this place like a spine. It’s all clear. I make my way down one floor, silent, knife at the ready, boots in my hand.

Okay, third floor, any window, lakeside. Fix the ropes an down we go to the waitin canoes. As I step offa the last stair into the third floor corridor, I catch a flash of movement to my right. About thirty foot along, I’m jest in time to see a Tonton open a door. It’s on the lakeside. He slips inside. My flesh goosebumps. I know the back of that head. I stared at it all the way to Freedom Fields. The heartstone’s warm aginst my skin.

It’s Jack.

The red hot slams to life. I pull on my boots with tremblin hands an poundin heart. I tiptoe along the corridor, clutchin the knife.

Hold fast. Hold fast to what he’s done. If it warn’t fer his deceit, none of us ’ud be here. An I wouldn’t of lost myself to DeMalo. Lost myself in DeMalo.

I used to know who I am. I don’t no more. An it’s all down to Jack.

I stop outside the door. The heartstone’s hot. I move slow, silent. I turn the handle.

I open the door. An I step inside.

It happens fast. In a flash.

A tiny room. Like a cell. Dark. Moonlight floods through a small window, waist high.

Jack’s leanin out of it. As I come in, he whips his head around, eyes wide. No! he hisses.

A rope stretches across the room an out the window. Tied at this end to the door handle. Our rope. He’s holdin it. Clutchin it.

Sabotage.

Even as I take in all of this, I’m at him. On him. Knife held high. The room’s so small, he ain’t got time to dodge. He grabs my knife hand. My rush jest about topples him outta the window. He’s off balance, tippin backwards. Keepin the knife high with one hand, hangin on to the rope with his other. He pushes back aginst me with his lower body. Scrabbles at the floor with his feet.

No! he gasps. Emmi!

I dig my boots into the floor. With all my strength, I push aginst him. I inch the knife towards his face.

Emmi! he chokes out. Rope!

Hands seize me from behind. Throw me offa Jack. I stagger into the wall. It’s Maev. Her an Jack’s both got hold of the rope. They’re pullin aginst it, like there’s a weight on it. A person.

Shut the door! hisses Maev.

What? I says.

Door!

I do as she says an the rope pulls taut. My head’s poundin an crashin. The wild rush of redness that took me over. I’m pantin fer breath. Suddenly, I realize what Jack was tryin to tell me. Emmi’s on the rope.

I dash to the window. Pull Maev away an lean out next to Jack. Emmi’s clingin to the rope about ten foot down, swingin back an forth high above the waters of the lake. Five pale faces look up at me. Molly an Tommo in one boat. Ash an Lugh in another. Ash tows a third boat – empty – behind her. Creed’s treadin water. He shakes his head an starts swimmin fer the empty boat.

Emmi! I whisper. Are you okay?

She looks up an sees me. Breaks into a great grin. Jack was helpin me, she says, an then the rope jerked an I nearly fell off an Creed fell in the water.

Jack? I says. Helpin you? He knocked you out cold.

I was play actin, she says. I saved yer life. We bin havin the best fun, me an Jack!

Fun? I says.

Okay, Em, Jack whispers from beside me. Down you go. Slow, like I told you. Don’t be afeared.

I ain’t, she says. See you later. An down she goes, inch by careful inch towards Molly an Tommo.

I look at him. At Jack. Play actin? I says.

I didn’t have time to think, he says. I jest had to move. She’s a loose cannon, that girl. She got all excited when she seen me, that’s why she came bustin outta the loft like that. I knew th’other guy was gonna come from the back of the barn any second an I couldn’t take the chance she might blurt out somethin about you. The moment I seen her, I knew you must be nearby. I told her to pretend I hit her an she did the rest.

Why warn’t you at the Lost Cause? I says. Did you find the message I left you?

No, he says. I couldn’t git away. I got moved to a different patrol a few days ago. They switch us around to avoid factions. No loyalty to anybody but the Pathfinder. We warn’t nowhere near. I’m sorry.