Vessel (6 page)

“You’re coming with us, aren’t you, Alana?”

“Shh,” I warned, tired of trying to explain reality to him. I pulled Recks further back into the shadows. Out in the clearing, Anders stood at the head of one of the tables, about to speak. Everyone fell silent, anticipating his words. His voice carried all the way to where we crouched in the brush.

“Let us remember,” he said. Automatically, everyone covered their eyes with their hands in symbolic remembrance of The Day. Everyone except Anders.

“In 2112, on the eighteenth day of April, Mother Sun took the machines from mankind and plunged the world into darkness. Many perished. She did this to remind us of her power, her control, and her love. Mankind had forgotten Mother Sun, and she was displeased.”

“Who is that?” Recks whispered next to my ear.

“The man who intends to try you tomorrow.”

“Where is the one called Weevil?”

I searched the crowd, but I didn’t see his gray hair anywhere. I felt my jaw tighten. “He’s not here.”

We crept behind the nearest house, the sound of the crackling bonfire and Anders’s voice following us.

“When mankind swore off machines, Mother Sun blessed him once more,” he continued. I knew without looking that everyone had uncovered their eyes. That’s the way it was done, darkness and light.

“Mankind will never forget her lesson. We will never allow machines to replace our Mother in the Heavens. Those who try will be punished severely. She feeds and clothes us. Without her, we are nothing. Cross her, and mankind will be nothing.”

***

When we made it to the horses, Recks released my hand. Cold again, I pulled it into my
billa
, savoring the feel of his grip even after it was gone. He quickly surveyed the animals and chose the largest. I helped him find a rope for it since the bridles covered in bells wouldn’t do.

“We need another one,” said Recks.

“It will be easier if you and Kinder ride together. He needs you.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“Get on the horse,” I urged, offering him a knee to step up on.

“I can’t leave you in this place.”

The horses nickered at the sound of someone walking into Tow’s house. The light of a small flame shone through the window.

“Get on the horse, Recks,” I said more forcefully than I’d ever said anything. “This is my home. I’m accepted here. No one else would have me.”

Recks pulled himself up onto the horse’s back and threw a leg over the other side. He leaned down to me, beckoning me to take his arm and jump on behind him.

“Please?” he urged as the back door of Tow’s house opened. Someone peered out into the darkness.

“It’s Weevil! Go!” I said as I ran for the forest and the cover of darkness.

“Stop!” I heard Weevil shout as Recks kicked the horse into a gallop. I hoped he’d get back to Kinder in time. I ran from the sound of confused, angry men shouting. I had to get back to Dine’s before I was missed.

“Alana!” Recks called. Instead of fleeing, he’d circled the horse back around, searching for me in the dark woods. Part of me was furious he would be so foolish, but part of me wanted to run away with him. I stopped and let him find me.

“Recks, you mustn’t stay here. I cannot go. Just look at me.” I threw off the
billa
and let Mother’s Love bathe my face in the blue-green glow. His expression was hard to read. Was it horror or pity? Disgust? The light of torches behind us grew closer.

“Alana, you’re an angel. It’s just one more reason to fly.”

The noise of the men grew ever louder. There was nothing else I could do.

“Help!” I screamed as loud as I could.

“Alana, don’t,” he pleaded, his horse dancing around me.

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” I said, tears streaming down my face before yelling again. “Help!” I threw my
billa
over my head and ran for home, leaving Recks to flee from the search party. I saw him kick the horse hard and gallop away toward the bridge and Kinder. I felt afraid, happy, and sad all at once. My toe jammed under a root as I ran, and I fell hard. When I lifted my head and adjusted the
billa
, I found myself surrounded by men on horseback, their torches illuminating the forest.

“It’s Dine’s slave,” one man said. He wore the robes of an Envoy. “Which way did he go, chit?”

I pulled myself up to my knees and looked at the man addressing me. Weevil hovered next to him, glaring at me with red eyes and showing his pointed teeth as he panted. I choked back a real sob.

“He knocked me down,” I stammered, trying to waste time. “Who was that?”

Weevil jumped down from his horse and jerked me up by my arm. He ripped the
billa
off my head. My face drew gasps from the Envoy, but Weevil only sneered, unafraid.

“Answer the question, chit!” he screamed. “Where is he?”

I let the tears I’d been holding back go. My shame was more than I could bear. I almost wished Weevil would snap my neck like I’d seen him do to others, put me out of my misery. The longer I distracted the search party, the better Recks’s chances would be.

“I don’t know,” I blubbered between sobs. “I think he went that way.” I pointed down the trail toward Master Dine’s house, the way I’d been going. Weevil threw me back down and returned to his horse.

“What are you doing out here alone anyway?” asked an Envoy.

“Master Tow ordered me to feed the prisoners. I didn’t have time earlier.”

Weevil kicked his horse into a run and the others followed.

“Go home to your master at once,” the Envoy ordered me. “And for Mother’s sake, cover yourself.”

I watched them gallop off in the wrong direction, relieved to pull the
billa
over myself once more. Safe in my cocoon, I hurried home.

I dreamt of Recks often after that. The memory of his kindness was a fragile blue egg I carried with me everywhere, even in my sleep. It was mine. No one could take it from me.

He and Kinder weren’t found that night. A frantic search lasted several days, but no one even so much as caught sight of them. For me, it was like setting a wild bird free. Once loose, it never returns.

I’d been under suspicion at first. Weevil was certain I knew something, but Master Dine wouldn’t allow him to beat it out of me. The key was never found. Finally, the Envoy gave up and returned to Gora empty-handed. Roma’s shame was complete. The citizens had little hope the Envoy would return for summer celebrations, even though they promised they would.

Some blamed me, but many accused Tow, who was ultimately responsible for the prisoners. After all, I was only a stupid chit. How could I have done such a thing on my own?

Given all that, the mood was positively jovial when the Tale Tellers arrived two moons later. With the coming of summer, travelers became more common. Most carried items for sale: hard to find fruits, textiles, and other luxury items. The Tale Tellers brought nothing but humor and entertainment. They brought stories everyone knew and acted them out in the street for whoever wanted to watch. I’d been too busy to listen in the past, but this year felt different. Now I longed for stories, to know something of the world besides the trail from Roma to the river. Recks had convinced me there was more, and I hungered for it.

They set up camp on the far edge of the town square. Their little covered wagon, painted red and blue with splashes of yellow, served as backstage and sleeping quarters. Their huge gray horse was hobbled nearby. She happily munched the green meadow grass while her owners cooked a bit of meat over an open fire and laughed heartily. Two women accompanied a man with a bushy blond beard. I thought they might be his wives, but the younger of the two might have been his daughter. They arrived on market day with several other vendors who also camped at the meadow.

Dine sent me to the market with a sack of new potatoes to barter for some more chickens. I didn’t tell him it was hopeless. Everyone in Roma had potatoes to barter, and the vendors would soon have their fill. Maybe if I got there early, there’d still be some hope. I grabbed a small bag of salt from the cupboard and pulled a few sprigs of fresh herbs from our garden to sweeten the deal. No one ever turned down salt.

As I rounded the corner that morning, I saw everyone else had the same idea I did. The meadow was lively with women and children crowding around the stands. Music from a tiny tin whistle flute and a hand drum played underneath it all, weaving in and out of the laughter and talking. So few people in Roma could actually play music. The sound drew me to the little red and blue wagon like sweet cakes drew children.

When I saw the horse, I stopped breathing. So calm, the mare didn’t look like she had that night with her nostrils flaring in the moonlight, but I knew she was the horse Recks escaped on. Dapple-gray horses weren’t that unusual, but this one was too familiar. I coughed to pull another breath into my chest. My eyes flitted around, scanning for some sign of Recks. All I saw were the Tale Teller and his oldest wife playing their song. I waited there until they finished, not moving away with the crowd until the man noticed me.

“Yes?”

“Excuse me. Where did you come by that horse?” I asked.

The man puffed out his burly chest as if I had accused him of stealing. “Bought her fair and square, I did.”

“From whom?”

“Who’s asking? A slave? What’s it to you?”

“Nothing, Master,” I said, backing away. Maybe Recks gave her up for food? What if something happened to Kinder? Kinder needed the horse. A million horrible possibilities spilled into my mind. I retreated into the crowd to find a vendor with chickens, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand so I wouldn’t go crazy with worry. The performers continued with another song louder than the last. With the salt and herbs, I was able to trade for one small hen, which I tucked under one arm to keep still while I carried the unused sack of potatoes in my other.

As I turned to go, I noticed the performers were telling a story. People drifted toward them and I followed. There were three performers now, the youngest wife playing the drum to add effect to the story. As near as I could tell, it was “The Tale of the Three Red Hats.” The farmer and his mate argued over what to do with the last of their bread. Knowing what would happen, the audience shouted advice to the farmer, but the bearded man wasn’t the one who held my attention.

The younger girl, the one playing the drum and keeping the time of the story, seemed familiar to me. Her long red hair was in her face much of the time, but her smile reminded me of someone safe, like a friend, which was odd because I’d never had a friend. Especially not one as flamboyant as this girl. I wanted to meet her, forgetting that I wasn’t allowed. Besides, she’d think me strange like everyone else did. Even the children called me the Black Ghost of Roma.

Instead, I headed home with my hen who behaved like she’d been raised as a pet. I decided to name her Puka, which means “girl with a sweet disposition.” I hoped the other hens wouldn’t peck her too badly as I left her in the coop.

“Lay many eggs, Puka,” I told her as I went to take the laundry down to the spring for washing. I carried it in a large wicker basket slung over my back. With most of the town’s women at the market, I expected to have the spring to myself. I got out my soap and got busy with Dine’s tunics, soaking and scrubbing them on a large, flat rock near the water’s edge. As I worked, another woman joined me. I didn’t look up, accustomed to being ignored. Normally, no one bothered speaking to me, so I jumped a bit when the woman said, “Do you always treat your friends this way?”

The voice was soft, but not female. The strange sound of it was somehow familiar.

“No, Mistress.”

Looking at the woman, I realized it was the street performer’s youngest wife, the one with the disheveled auburn hair, but what I saw most clearly was her eyes. They were almond-shaped like mine, like Recks’s.

“Recks?” I whispered, finding it hard to believe it could be him.

“You aren’t going to call for help are you? Run me off again?”

Recks knelt by me and dunked his own laundry in the cool water. From a distance, no one would think a thing of us.

“I’m sorry. I did what I thought was necessary. Where’s Kinder?” I scrubbed Dine’s tunic so hard I risked putting a hole in it.

“He was gone when I got back to the bridge that night. I think he decided to go on his own, or he was captured.”

“No one here found him.”

“By the time I realized he was gone, it was too late to come back for you. Weevil was too close.”

“You shouldn’t have come back here at all. If they catch you, there will be no escaping this time.”

“They won’t catch me if you come quietly,” said Recks with a smile.

“Why are you so determined?”

“Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same thing many times.”

“And?”

“It’s simple: your kindness. It’s so rare. I must repay you somehow.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

Recks put his hand over mine, both dripping wet. “Alana, look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to be free. If you can do that, I’ll leave this place without you.”