Your ma an pa wasn’t always at Silverlake, Saba. An I wasn’t always here at Crosscreek. We came to know each other at a place cal ed Hopetown.
I ain’t never heard of it, I says.
It’s a town, she says. If you’re lucky, a week’s hard walkin’l get you there. That’s if you’re lucky. You have to cross Sandsea an it don’t welcome nobody.
Sandsea, I says. Pa used to tel us stories about it. The men … the Tonton … headed across there with Lugh. Their prints turned north o the trackway. D’you think they took him to Hopetown?
the trackway. D’you think they took him to Hopetown?
They might have done, she says. Hopetown’s where the scum of the earth wash up. Every robber, every cheat, every lowlife who’d stab you for lookin at him the wrong way … they al nd their way there eventual y. It’s run by bad people for their own ends. An they got the Tonton to keep al the scum in check. They control the place with violence an somethin cal ed chaal.
That’s them leafs Procter John used to chew, I says. Pa told us never to touch it.
He was right, she says. Chaal slows you down. Makes you think you’re smart when you ain’t. Too much of it an you get al hopped up, go wild. Al is an Wil em an me, we weren’t there for long. We saw what the place was like an got out a there before it could suck us under. We got as far away as we could. We never wanted to hear of chaal or Hopetown again.
But why would the … Tonton take Lugh? I says.
Tel me more about that day, she says.
They came lookin fer him, I says. One of ’em said to Procter John, “Is this him? Is he the one born at midwinter?” Then they asked Lugh the same thing an they checked that he was eighteen. Procter John says to ’em, “I told you he was the right one.” So … they knew al about Lugh. They came to find him.
Mercy don’t say naught. Jest stares up at the night sky.
But how could they know about him? I says. An what’s so important about him bein midwinter born? We’re twins. Why didn’t they take me too?
I don’t know, she says. But let’s think it through.
We’re both quiet fer a bit. Then she says, Maybe they didn’t want a girl. Maybe they wanted a boy. A boy born at midwinter eighteen year ago.
But why? I says. An how did they know where to nd him? Like you said, Silverlake’s nowhere. Besides you an us, nobody’s ever bin there essept the rag man an Procter John. Pa told us so.
Your father lied, says Mercy.
Pa lied? I says.
Maybe that ain’t fair, she says. Maybe lied’s the wrong word. Maybe he just … didn’t remember.
Al right, I says. So?
You know I was there when your ma birthed you an Lugh.
Uh huh, I says.
Wel … I wasn’t th’only one.
Somebody else was there? Who?
A man, she says. A stranger. He stopped at Silverlake, two days before you was born. Didn’t say much. Didn’t say where he was from or where he was headed. An he sure didn’t have nuthin. He was half-starved, with barely even a shirt on his back. Said his name was Trask, but who knows if that was true? Wil em was wary of him, but he seemed harmless enough so they fed him an even gave him some of Wil em’s old clothes.
An he was there when we was born, I says.
Not you, she says. He’d left by then. You was born two hours after Lugh, remember. It was odd. There was Lugh, yel in an kickin to let us know he’d arrived in the world, an right away, Trask got al excited. He kept sayin a boy born at midwinter’s a rare thing, a wonderful thing.
An he went on repeatin it. Like it was important somehow. Then, when I looked for him a lit le while later, he was gone. Didn’t even say goodbye. Funny, but I’d forgot about him til now.
Why didn’t Pa tel us? I says.
Maybe he forgot, she says, like me. It didn’t seem terribly important. We thought he was just some crazy travelin man.
So d’you think Trask’s one of the men who took Lugh? I says. One of the Tonton?
Oh no, he’d be too old. The Tonton are men in their prime. Trask must of had at least forty year on him an that was eighteen year ago.
He must of told somebody else about Lugh, I says.
It seems that way, she says. What about your neighbor?
Procter John? I frown. I got somethin dancin at the edges of my mind, somethin I cain’t quite git hold of. Then, Now I remember! I says.
He said somethin strange … he said to the men, I should know how old he is, I bin keepin a eye on him al this time like you told me to.
Mercy lets out a long breath. A spy, she says. The Tonton had him watchin over Lugh. Probly kept him in line with chaal an threats.
So Trask must of told the Tonton, I says. But I don’t unnerstand why it had to be Lugh they took. Why they waited til he was eighteen.
I don’t understand it myself, she says. But if you find that out, you may wel find your brother.
Dawn’s breakin as I step outside the cabin.
I wish you’d let me give you more, says Mercy. A bit of jerky an dried yam ain’t gonna last you longer’n a few days.
Yer stores ain’t ezzackly overflowin, I says. An, thanks to us, you got two mouths to feed now.
I’l take care of the child just fine, she says.
An I’l take care of myself, I says. I got plenty of water. As fer the rest—I pat my bow—I got this.
If you’re sure, she says.
Don’t worry.
Mercy puts her arm around Emmi. What say we walk Saba across the meadow? See her on her way?
Emmi shrugs. Picks at her peg dol ’s dress. If you like, she says.
I know I ain’t Em’s favorite person, leavin her here with Mercy, but at least she don’t seem so hostile today. Any road, she’l git used to it soon enough. An she’l be safe here with Mercy an Tracker. Might even have a bit of fun fer once, ridin the pony an splashin around in the creek. A child oughta have a bit of fun.
They walk me across the bridge. Nero flies on ahead, chased by Tracker. The long meadow grass swishes aginst our legs.
I stop. I turn back. Take a last look at this peaceful green val ey with its clear water an sweet air. My chest’s gone al tight. Tears spring to my eyes. I cain’t do it. I won’t be able to find him. I cain’t do it alone.
my eyes. I cain’t do it. I won’t be able to find him. I cain’t do it alone.
Saba? Mercy touches me gently on the arm.
I suck in a couple of deep breaths. I curse my own weakness. Swipe at my eyes. Lugh’s countin on me. Only me.
They’re gonna need you, Saba. Lugh an Emmi. An there’l be others too. Many others. Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, like I know you are.
I ain’t no quit er, Pa.
What is it, Saba? Emmi says.
I turn around. Nuthin, I says.
I got somethin to give you, says Mercy. Hold out your hand.
I do. She puts somethin in it an closes my fingers round it.
What is it? says Emmi.
I open my hand. A rosy pink stone nestles there. Smooth, shaped like a bird’s egg, about the length of my thumb. It feels cool. Cold even.
It’s threaded on a leather thong to wear around the neck. I hold it up an the light gleams through it, milky an dul .
It’s pret y, says Emmi.
It’s a heartstone, says Mercy. She lifts it over my head. Your mother gave it to me, an now I’m givin it to you.