Ascension (14 page)

"Um, hi. I'm Fara," I
offered.

"I know. I was at the inn, remember?
You caused quite the stir."

"Of course! I could never forget
your kindness! Thank you for that."

"Yeah, well that
kindness got me fired." I opened my mouth to apologize, but she
just shook her head and said, "No, really, it's okay. That man
treated me badly anyways. It was just what I needed to get myself
out of a troublesome situation. And now I'm going to return that
favor.
”
She pulled the bag to her lap and
took out a thick slice of bread, followed by a slice of cheese and
an apple. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.

"For me?" She nodded and handed me
the food, which I took gratefully and began to eat, right there in
the middle of the room.

"Whoa!" She said, "Take a seat
before you drop it all! That wasn't easy to steal!" I sat on the
edge of the bed, unable to speak because of all the food I had
shoved in my mouth. She watched me with an amused smile, her chin
in her hands, then began to braid her hair and prepare for
bed.

When I finished eating, or rather,
inhaling my food, I laid back on the bed, waiting for my stomach to
realize that it now had food in it. From my position, I could see
the small opening in the wall, and through it the changing colors
of the sky. I watched the clouds pass by for a moment, and then
remembered the seed I had placed on the ledge, which I went to pick
up. Scooping some dirt from the ground, I formed a small mound on
the ledge of the opening and placed the seedling in the middle,
careful not to hurt the tiny sprout. I made a mental note to find a
cup and some water for the sapling tomorrow. I took another glance
outside the window, and then sat back down, on the correct cot this
time. I was incredibly tired, and as much as I wanted to fall
asleep, I knew I had better change my dress before I got my cot
covered in horse poop.

I swiftly
undressed into my undergarments, grateful that Jean granted me some
privacy focusing on her braid, and then laid back down on my cot,
pulling the thin sheet over my body. I shut my eyes, willing sleep
to overcome me, when, like a jolt, a memory flashed through my
head. Dirt sticks together, right? No longer tired, I sat straight
up, startling Jean in the process. "What did you mean, 'Dirt sticks
together?
’”

"What?"

"When you helped
me at the inn, you told me 'Dirt sticks together'. What does that
mean? Are you from Cethin?" I thought back to my childhood-she
didn't look much older than me, and I didn't recognize her from my
mother
’
s
classes. Furthermore, if she were to have left Cethin, I would have
heard about it. People don't leave very often.

She sighed. "Do we really have to
get into this now? I'm tired." When I refused to lay back down, she
gave in. "Fine. No, I'm not from Cethin, although where I'm from
isn't too different. My home is Grundale. We live in the tunnels
south of Stonewall."

My mind was
spinning. "I thought Cethin was where they had banished everyone
during the Great Purge. You mean, there
’
s another
colony?"

"There are many
more. During the purge, when the King banished the marginalized, he
didn't realize how many of us there were. They considered killing
us off, but there were too many of us. It's the only reason they
even bothered to let us live. That, and they needed some extra
labor in the failing economy. So they separated us into groups and
sent us underground, choosing,
”

I finished for her, whispering, "the
strongest of the poor to tunnel ahead and make a living
underground." I crawled closer to her, bewildered. "How do you know
all this? In Cethin, the elders told us we were the only
ones."

"They told us the
same in Grundale. But when I was sent up here, I met slaves from
different colonies. Most of the girls here are from the colonies,
and there are a few men working throughout the castle that are also
from the colonies, but most of the men from the colonies are either
working on the outskirts of the city, constructing and expanding,
or are forced to serve in the King's army. But I
don
’
t really
know that much about the other colonies, because they are always
watching us, listening, waiting for one of us to slip up. They
don't want us talking about where we are from. I'm sure you can
imagine why. We all think that we are the only ones. I think that's
why they won't let us back home once we come up here. They don't
want us to spread the word that there are
others."

"Why not? What would it hurt, us
knowing that we aren't alone?"

Jean
’
s voice suddenly turned cold.
"It's simple. There is power in numbers.
”

Chills tore through my body as the
true meaning of her words sunk in. With more Nethers, there was a
chance of a stronger revolt. More people to fight, more passion to
fuel the fires for change. I thought back to my original mission,
to find freedom for my people. With this newfound knowledge, my
seemingly impossible plan now seemed plausible.

"Jean, can I trust you?" I peered
into her hazel eyes. She held my gaze, and firmly nodded. I sucked
in a breath, and told her in a rush, "I wasn't sent here. I left
Cethin. I chose to be evaluated." I watched as she recoiled in
disgust.

"You abandoned
your people? You betrayed them!" Her reaction, although hurtful,
was natural. It was the same as Conor
’
s, and I
’
m sure of everyone else in
Cethin. During the trip, I often had to stop my mind from wandering
to my family back in Cethin, and how they perceived my
disappearance. Did they think me a deserter? I thought of my peers
from my mother
’
s classes. Yes, I'm sure they did. But Conor? No, he knew
why I was going. Hopefully he told my family why I left, so that
they still thought of me in a good light, or perhaps, a better
light.

"Let me explain. I came here for
freedom. Not just for me, but for my people. For your people, for
all of us." I prayed that she would believe me, that I wouldn't
lose my only friend down here.

Her hackles still raised, she asked
skeptically, "How do you plan to do that?"

I sighed, having
asked myself the same question every day. "Honestly, I don't know.
But I knew I had to try. You know what it's like, being different
from everyone else, being singled out. I couldn't stand it. And my
father was talking about a revolt. He said that all we needed was
someone on the surface. So that's what I did."
Jean
’
s
suspicious expression softened into one of
sadness.

“
Well, you've wasted
your time," she said.

"But don't you
see? You said it yourself! There is power in numbers! If all of the
slaves, servants, and Nethers from every colony got together to
fight, nothing could stop us! All we need is someone to help lead
us! Someone to tell the colonies that they aren't alone!" In my
excitement, my voice had grown stronger, all traces of my
exhaustion gone. Jean shushed me, and I whispered, "We could change
things!
”

"But how would we
get back to the colonies? How can we tell them? Once you're up
here, there is no way back.
”
She added in
a despondent whisper, "I'd do anything to send at least a message
back home, to let them know I'm okay." With these words, a face
appeared in my mind. Croxley? I don't know if I could trust him. He
said that he was on mv side, but after what happened during the
evaluation, I can't be sure. Either way, a solution had to exist.
"I'll come up with something. I
’
m not just going to give up," I
firmly declared.

Jean and I sat in
silence for a while longer, until she spoke quietly, staring into
her hands. "You know, things weren't that hard for me back home.
I'm not ugly, but I'm not near as beautiful as you. The guards
didn
’
t really
cause me that much trouble. My true talent is singing. I used to
sing at colony celebrations, around the mines, whenever it was
safe. But, one day, the guards heard me and took me away from my
family. It was the most terrible thing that had ever happened to
me. I cried for hours, until the guard finally knocked me out to
make me quiet. And to think that you just left them...l
can
’
t decide if
you are brave or heartless.
”
She looked
up at me, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. "I miss
them," she said. I felt my own tears beginning, surprised that I
had any left. I admitted to her,
“
Me too.
I could have never imagined how much I would miss home." In an
effort to stave off more tears, as I had shed enough today, I asked
Jean, "Would you sing for me? A song from
Grundale?"

Jean smiled and
nodded. "I'll sing you my favorite. My mother sang it to me every
night, and it was the last thing I heard before I left.
”
In a quiet, pure voice, she sang a haunting tune
that reached deep into my heart.

When the birds you can't
hear

And you're lost in dark
silence

Don't fret, I'll be near

To protect you from
violence

No matter how hard

They try to break us down

Together, we stand strong

We will always hold our
ground

Each day, as we work,

And they beat us and bite
us,

We know, in our hearts,

That they can never fight
us.

The distance may be far

And the times may be
rough

But we know who we are

And who we are, we are
tough

So when I've come and
gone,

Just know, in your heart,

That when you sing this
song,

We will never be apart.

The tears I had been trying to hold
back now flowed freely, but not out of sadness. Rather, it felt
like the hole in my heart that had been growing larger in the past
few days was now on the mend. I noticed that Jean was crying as
well. With silent tears streaming down both of our faces, we
embraced, letting the unspoken grief and fear dissipate in the warm
comfort of our new friendship.

As soon as I laid back down, the
exhaustion from before took over. I was barely able to thank Jean
before my eyes closed and sleep consumed me.

Chapter
15

The next day was much easier. Jean
woke me up early so that I could clean my dress before breakfast. I
pulled my reluctant body out of bed and laced up my boots, wearing
my old traveling dress and carrying the soiled one. Walking to the
washroom, I passed by many girls, some who smiled friendlily,
others not paying me any attention. I was surprised at how many
girls Jean knew. Most of the girls we passed exchanged greetings
with her. When a group of girls huddled together, sneering and
laughing at me, Jean walked over with her head held high and told
them something that I couldn't overhear. But whatever it was, it
was effective, as it brought their tittering to a stop and sent
them walking away.

The wash room turned out to be a
small, round room with two large barrels filled with water in the
center, and a bunch of smaller, empty buckets scattered around the
room. Jean told me that the first barrel had clean water, which you
scooped up with a bucket and did your washing in. When you were
done, you were supposed to dump the dirty water in the other
barrel.

I followed her instructions, and
managed to get most of the dirt out of my shift from the journey,
as well as the horse poop out of my work dress from the day
before.

I wrung out my
work dress as tightly as I could before pulling it over my head. It
was still damp, but bearable. I looked over at Jean, who was
washing her uniform as well. Her dress looked a bit different from
mine.
”
That reminds me, what job do you
have now that I got you fired?" I asked her, still feeling guilty
about making her lose her job at the inn.

"I told you, I was meaning to quit
anyways. So stop worrying about it. Now, I do some work in the
kitchen, basically delivering food and the like to those staying in
the castle. And, sometimes, Mathelda has me, um, entertain some of
the guests." She kept her eyes trained on her skirt, which she was
scrubbing intently although it was already clean.

"What do you mean, entertain? What
do you do?"

"Well, you know,
I
…”
she stopped speaking as some other
girls walked in the room, and, shooting me a meaningful glance,
picked up her things and walked out.

I followed, but she didn't expand
any further on the subject. Dropping off our wet clothes in our
room, we made our way to the dining room.

!

"I hate that old
man. 'Duke Ermingham the third.' As if the first two weren't horrid
enough." Jean and I were eating breakfast at a table with some
other girls whom Jean knew, and one in particular had not stopped
complaining since we sat down. I was fine with it, though, because
it meant I didn
’
t have to do any talking, and could pay full attention to
my food. It wasn
’
t anywhere near the meal I had eaten at the inn, it was
better than nothing. I mopped up some of the vegetable broth with
my bread, hoping to catch every last drop. I was so concentrated on
the task at hand that I was able to tune out most of the girl's
ranting.