I’l bear that in mind, says Jack.
Nero circles above. He caws, impatient to git goin. I look up. Time to go, I says. I click my tongue at Hermes an we start to move out. Jack leadin the way on Ajax, Emmi in the middle on a pony cal ed Joy, an me bringin up the rear, with our packs an saddlebags an waterskins fil ed thanks to the Free Hawks.
They’re al gathered to see us of . Now they start shoutin. G’bye, good luck, don’t ferget about us, see you soon, an al that kinda thing.
I take one last look. At Ash, Epona an the rest, smilin an wavin.
But not Maev. Not smilin. Not wavin. Jest standin there.
Lookin like she don’t especk to ever see us agin.
THE BLACK
MOUNTAINS
WE BIN TRAVELIN ALL DAY. I HAFTA GIVE IT TO JACK, HE sets a good pace. Fast enough fer my hands not to git itchy on the reins but not so fast that Emmi cain’t keep up on her pony.
Jack says we’re stil in the foothil s of the Black Mountains. Says we won’t reach the mountains proper fer a couple of days yet. We climb steadily, windin our way through forests of evergreens an across dry open val eys covered with scrub.
Nero’s pleased to have me back after being apart fer so long while we was in Hopetown. I feel the same. Mainly he’s happy to jest ride on my shoulder, makin conversation an remarkin on the scenery as we go along. From time to time he’l disappear fer a bit on some crow business.
He’s bin missin since mid-afternoon an I’m jest startin to wonder where he’s got to when he appears out a nowhere. But instead of comin to me, he flut ers down to land on Jack’s head. Then he leans over an starts to nibble lovinly on his ear.
I cain’t believe my eyes.
Nero! I yel . Leave Jack alone!
He shoots over to me so fast he’s jest a blur. Lands on my shoulder an hunches there, not lookin at me. I never knew a crow could look guilty, but he does al right.
Jack looks back an smiles. Don’t cal him of on my account, he says.
Bloody Jack. What is it with him? What is it about him that he seems to charm everybody an everythin that crosses his path? Ash an pret y wel every other Free Hawk, my sister an now my damn crow. I swear, if there was a rock in his path that he couldn’t be bothered steppin over, al he’d hafta do was give it one look an it’d rol out a the way.
Not me though. I don’t rol out a the way fer nobody. Not even him. Especial y not fer him.
As dusk starts to fal , we sets up camp in a stand of pine beside a lit le trickle of a creek. The layers of dead needles feel soft an springy unner my feet. The sharp sweetness of warm pine fil s the air.
Jack closes his eyes an takes in a deep breath.
We’l have sweet-smel in beds tonight, Emmi, he says.
I’m gonna make ’em real good, Jack, she says. You see if I don’t.
I col ect wood an git a re goin while Jack sorts out the rest of our gear. Emmi bustles around, unloadin the bedrol s from the horses an set in ’em out beside each other. She chats away to herself an I let it rol over me, like usual.
I’l sleep here, she says. An Jack’l be … here … an then Saba can go … here. Right between me an Jack.
My head shoots up. What? I says. Oh no! I go over an grab my bedrol . You go in between Jack an me. That ’ud be bet er, don’t you think?
That way, uh … you can talk to both of us. How about that?
But Jack put me in charge! Emmi puts her hands on her hips. He unloads the horses, you do the re an I set out the bedrol s! Ain’t that right, Jack?
I thought it was, says Jack. But I guess yer sister don’t think yer up to the job, Emmi.
They both look at me. Emmi’s got her face al scrinched tight. She does that when she’s upset an tryin not to let her chin wobble. Jack’s face is blank, like he don’t give a hoot one way or th’other. I don’t trust him fer a second. He knows I don’t wanna lie next to him, but I cain’t tel Em that. As far as she’s concerned, I’m jest bein mean to her like usual an not givin her a chance. He’s got me this time.
That ain’t true, I says. I hand my bedrol back to Em. Sorry, Em. Of course it’s yer job. I’l leave it to you.
While she’s busy put in her arrangements to rights agin, I go over to where Jack’s unloadin Ajax an Hermes.
I know what yer up to, I says. An it ain’t gonna work.
Is that right? He don’t look at me, but keeps on pilin the saddlebags an other gear. Fer future reference, he says, I’d be grateful if you’d tel me what it is I’m supposed to be up to that ain’t gonna work. That way I won’t bother git in up to it agin.
I frown. There you go agin, doin that eel thing, I says. What yer up to, Jack, is … is tryin to make me look like a fool al the time!
Oh, is that what I’m up to?
You know damn wel it is!
Then I apologize, he says. Most sincerely.
He smiles. A pleasant smile. Not cocky or arrogant. I dunno what to make of it.
Wel …, I says, al right then. Jest mind you don’t do it agin.
I promise, he says, the next time you look like a fool, it’l be al yer own doin. He winks at me as he picks up the saddlebags. Fire needs tendin, he says.
I stand there fer a moment. He jest got me agin, the bastard.
But I feel a lit le smile sneak over my face.
Night, Saba, says Emmi. Night, Jack.
She rol s over onto her side, facin away from me, an soon she’s fast to sleep. Nero’s set on his roost in a tree nearby.
I stare at the night sky. It’s high an light an clouds scud across the face of the moon. I clutch my blanket around me tight, lie sti as a board. I’m so aware of Jack lyin next to me. The warmth of him, the sound of his breathin, the slight rise an fal of his chest I can see out a the corner of my eye.
There’s a rustle as he moves. I look an he’s facin me, propped up on one elbow. The dyin fire catches on his cheekbones, shadows his eyes.
My stummick jumps. Shivers. I look away.
He reaches out an touches the heartstone, lyin in the hol ow of my neck. Draws his hand away quick.
It’s hot, he says.
I know, I says. I pul it over my head an shove it down in my bedrol . Stupid thing, I says. Dunno why I wear it.
After a bit he says, Tel me about yer brother.
After a bit he says, Tel me about yer brother.
We’re twins, I says.
Ah, he says. I figgered he must be somethin special fer you to go through so much to find him. What’s he like?
I think. It’s always the same when somebody asks me about Lugh. Mercy, Helen, Maev … even Emmi. I wanna talk about him an at the same time I don’t. I feel like, if I do talk about him I’m givin away lit le bits of him that I wanna keep to myself.
Our ma died birthin Emmi, I says. An after that, Pa … wel , he warn’t ever the same. He didn’t seem to care about nuthin no more. Not us or … not anythin … not real y. If it hadn’t of bin fer Lugh keepin food on the table an a roof over our heads, I believe we would of al died.
Lugh an me was only nine year when Ma died, same as Emmi is now. So he ain’t afeared of takin things on. Never has bin.
But what’s he like? says Jack.
He’s … wel , he’s funny, I says, an kind an … he’s real smart. I guess he paid at ention to what Pa told him. Not like me. He knows … everythin. He can fix anythin, he knows the land an creatures an … me. He’s th’only person in the world who real y knows me.