Raging Star

NIGHT THREE

THE DARK COMES UPON US EARLY. IT TAKES US BY SURPRISE. The fog ain’t lifted all day. It’s made heavy weather of our travel. By middle afternoon, the sullen red sun dies. We’re muffled in misty darkness.

Even if it warn’t too dangerous to go on, nightfall means curfew in New Eden. We pull off the road an make a camp among the trees.

I take first watch while the boys sleep. My mind circles in a swamp of shallow fears. I hear whispers in the fog. Movement in the black heart of the night. Lugh relieves me when I done my time.

I lie down, close my eyes an try to sleep. But rest won’t come to me. What comes to me is

the faint, far-off sobs of a child.

The dry rustle of bones hung in trees.

I wait fer the night to pass.

We pause at the crossroads where we hijacked Slim. The one with the sourfruit trees. We’re in the bleak nowhere now. That means little danger of discovery. The boys shed their Tonton robes while I strip off Molly’s dress an dump the corn-husk belly. I ain’t felt like myself since Peg helped me tog up. That was yesterday morning already. Manuel climbs down from the cart to stretch his legs. We pass around waterskins an wet our dry throats.

There’s a harsh beauty to this place. It seems somewhere in a dream. A white hotwind sky that scalds yer skin. The great forest of red pine frozen to stone an the baked cracked red earth. The scattered remains of light towers. A hazy shimmer of mountains far north.

I have a fancy that our voices linger in this place. That that moment of decision still murmurs in the dust, echoes in the frozen pine branches. All of us hot an quarrelsome. Arguin over which way we oughta go. Me determined to press on to the Lost Cause with nuthin in mind but to find Jack. Lugh pullin in the opposite direction. Anxious to turn back, to head west to the Big Water. If we’d done as he wanted, Maev might still be alive. I wouldn’t of fallen to DeMalo. We wouldn’t be speedin now towards the sharp point of our lives.

What should I whisper to myself? There at the crossroads of the past? What should I tell myself to do? Listen to Lugh an turn back? Or forge onwards, though I know what lies ahead?

I catch Lugh’s eye. I can tell that he’s hearin our voices too. But did we, do we, ever really have a choice? It seems our course was set long before that crossroads moment.

They’re gonna need you, Saba. Be strong, like I know you are. An never give up. Never. No matter what happens.

I won’t. I ain’t no quitter, Pa.

I buckle on my jerkin an armbands. I tie Auriel’s shawl around me like a sash. I ain’t no quitter. One step at a time, I’ll see this thing finished. I ain’t got no fear on my own account. But fer them that I love, I fear plenty. If that makes me a bad leader, so be it. I look at Lugh an Tommo. I says, You know that you ain’t obliged to come with me.

But they’re both swingin theirselves onto horseback an Manuel’s jumped in the cart, reins in hand, ready to move at the word.

C’mon then, says Tommo.

Let’s go, says Lugh.

So I swing myself up onto Hermes. An I lead us on north to Nass Camp.

Our landmark looms into view. The rusted stub of a single light tower leg. Ash is perched on the topmost beam. The moment she spots us, she shouts out somethin, then swarms down the leg to the ground. Nero sails off to greet her. By the time we roll to a stop, Creed’s appeared. As the boys an me dismount an Manuel halts the cart, he strides towards us with a big white grin. Ear rings janglin, coat tails flappin, his hair wild tossed by the wind.

That smile better mean they’re here, I says.

You ask an the magic man delivers, he says. He takes my hand an ushers me forwards.

Don’t believe him, says Ash. They was already in New Eden. We met ’em jest after they’d crossed the Yann Gap.

Creed flings his arms wide. Behold, he says. Yer army!

We’re lookin down a mild slope into Nass Camp. I dunno what I espected, but it warn’t this. A dry flat valley of white rocks, bright in the middle day sun. The strangest rocks I ever seen. A close-packed clutter of cones, pillars, mushrooms an chimleys. Small, large an every size in between. Some rise many foot high in the air. They’ve bin carved by human hands into honeycombs of caves, nooks an holes. But it ain’t the rocks that drop my jaw. It’s what’s camped among them.

Good gawd, says Lugh. He sounds as numb as I feel.

This is everybody, I says.

Every last one of ’em, says Creed.

The Snake River camp has picked up an moved here. Their flotsam skellies, teepees an ragtents scatter all about between the rocks. Their carts an horses an other beasts. They’ve took over some of the caves as well. I spy Auriel’s patchwork tent. Dogs chase. Children play. I hear Moses, in full-throated bellow of complaint. I spot Slim at the same time he spots us. He raises his hand an shouts welcome. A few kids start runnin towards us. Then everybody begins to move in our direction.

How many? says Tommo.

A hunnerd twenny three, says Ash. That’s accordin to Auriel. An she should know.

I feel instantly sick. Seein ’em all here like this, all together, it hits me. They’re my responsibility now.

Over the Yann Gap, says Tommo. But we wrecked that bridge.

There’s a new one, says Ash. The Pathfinder’s bin busy. An not jest the bridge. They also cleared the Wraithway of yer pals, them skull collectors. How’s about this, Saba? Struck dumb, huh?

Dumb. Shocked. But I take in what she says. DeMalo’s built his bridgehead to the west. Of course he has. The maps in the seedstore roll out in my mind. The land an the waters, to the west, east, north, south. All of it DeMalo’s to control.

Take me to Auriel, I says.

By this time the kids is on top of us. Grubby urchins, gabblin an leapin with excitement as they help with the horses an cart. Then they’re all upon us. We’re swept along in a tide of warm bodies towards the camp. These people who’ve trekked from the Snake River. What a difference from the first time we met them there. With fear-filled faces an weapons in their hands, they would of done us mortal harm had Auriel not stopped ’em. They’d fled fer their lives from DeMalo an the Tonton. An they knew about me, the Angel of Death who’d razed Hopetown to the ground. Him an me was one an the same in their eyes, bringers of misery an death.

Now they’re wantin to shake our hands. There’s nods an smiles an the chatter of hopefulness surrounds me. I reckanise quite a few. They’re dry folk, these people, parched in body an spirit. Stand ’em next to the fresh green Stewards, they’d look poor specimens indeed.

Who are the best stewards of the earth? The old and weak? The sick? Or the young and the strong? There isn’t enough clean water or good land to go around. You know that.

DeMalo’s words hiss in me. Slither in dark corners. Be silent, be gone, yer his thoughts, not mine.

Make way! Make way! Slim sails a path through the crowd, belly-first. Molly follows in his wake. His gappy grin stretches ear to ear. Whaddya say, Angel? Does all this put yer mind at rest?

I cain’t believe it, I says.

We’d barely got here ourselfs when they pitched up, says Molly. They caught us on the hop. But they jest set to without no fuss, diggin latrines an all else.

A wiry little man pardons his way through. He’s got a woman with worn red hair by the hand. They’ve both bin edged sharply by a lifetime of want. They got springtime years but wintertime faces. I don’t s’pose you remember us, he says.

You s’pose wrong, I says. How are you, Ruth? An—

Webb, he says. Webb Reno, ma’am. Ruth’s hangin on, ain’tcha girl? Not givin up, jest like you told her to. You did us a great service that time. We come to help you fight. I mean me.

I’m glad to see you both, I says. What about food? I says to Slim. An water?

Only waterhole’s half a league off, says Slim. Moses don’t mind playin water carrier.

We didn’t have time to collect much in the way of provisions, says Molly. With what they brought, there’s enough fer a few days. I tell you somethin. She leans in close an lowers her voice. Some of these folk ain’t in the best shape, but every last one of ’em’s hell bent on doin their bit.

Beg pardon, ma’am, says Webb Reno. But d’you think there’s any chance we can find our girl they took? Our Nell? It’s all Ruth lives fer, me too, to have her back with us.

That trigger inside my head. It clicks agin. Nell. The same age as Emmi. If she’s still alive, she’ll be at Edenhome. We need a way in there. Maybe this man is it. I says, I cain’t promise nuthin. But let’s talk about it later.

When yer starved of hope, even lean words can make a meal. A spark leaps in their flat, faded eyes.

Oh, thank you! Thank you! Ruth seizes my hand an kisses it before I can stop her.

I ease from her grasp, gentle as I can. I says, If the day comes that I earn yer thanks, Ruth, offer me yer hand. I’ll be honoured to take it. Hand to hand, eye to eye. That’s what’s fittin between people.

I surely will, she says.

The crowd surges us towards Auriel Tai. I can see her waitin in front of her tent that’s bin pitched atop a small rise in the land. The same high-peaked tent made of tatters an patches that I remember so well from the Snake. The wind twitches at her long black shift.

I ain’t met everybody on this earth there is to meet. Still, I know there cain’t be none other like Auriel. This star reader servant of the light. Sixteen an fine boned as a sparrow, with skin the clear white of a watery moon. Her milkfire hair hangs loose to her waist, threaded with feathers an beads. A dark eyeshield covers her eyes. Any glint of light—the sun on water, say—can set her off in a vision so fierce she’ll be laid out cold on the ground.

Auriel knows my black water. She knows it like nobody else. In night skies an lightnin, she’s read me. Past an future. Mind an soul. She’s roamed the grey plains of my dreams.

I knew what she looked like. I knew her to be sixteen. But her power is such that since I left her at the Snake, my memory’s changed her to someone more like Mercy. A older woman with long knowledge of the world. A little spray of shock hits me at the sight of this small girl.

As I stop jest below her on the slope, Nero lands on my shoulder. I can feel the press of bodies behind me. All of my people. All of her people.

She stands there quietly. The chatter stops dead. She raises her voice so none miss her words. They fall clear as spring rain upon a lake. The hotwind dies down, as if soothed by the sound.

The starworld is unsettled, she says. Change in the skies foretells change here on earth. The stars told us to leave our Snake River camp. They sent us here to this place. They sent us to be of service to Saba. My Snake River friends know this land well. It was their land before the Pathfinder came. Before he stole it from them an named it New Eden. He stole their children, their hope fer the future. He killed an enslaved their loved ones. Their friends an their neighbours. They fled in fear of their lives. Yet here they are, returned. Prepared to risk all in the hope of real freedom. The stars say that hope lies with Saba. We wait upon her command.

She motions fer me to come to her. As I go up the slope, settin Nero loose to fly, my Free Hawks crowd behind me. Slim an Molly, Ash an Creed, Tommo an Lugh.

I glance back at them. I’ll see her on my own, I says.

Lugh says, But surely I can—

On my own, Lugh, I says.

He stops with a frown. He has a iron dislike fer Auriel, forged in his soul by our star-scarred life. He despised her the moment he set eyes on her at the Snake. Thanks to our misbegotten father, he’s always spat at the very mention of star readin. Auriel ain’t no never-was, not like Pa. But despite that she proved to a certainty she ain’t no fake—maybe becuz she did—Lugh will not give her credence. He’d claim disbelief even if she raised our mother from the dead right in front of him.

She’s holdin the tent flap open. As I’m about to duck inside, she lays a cool hand on my arm. Where’s Emmi? she says.

Not here, I says. She’s back at base.

Auriel goes completely still. Jest fer a moment. Like that warn’t the answer she espected. Then, Come in, Saba, she says.

The tent of a shaman ain’t jest her home. It’s the place where seekers come. To hear her speak startold secrets of their lives. To journey drugged dreams born of strange powders on the fire. It’s odd to see Auriel’s tent here in New Eden, jest as it was at the Snake. The cot, the stool, the chest, the little table. All of it plain, rough stuff. By the firepit, her rocker chair an tin box of dream powders. Their smell hangs thick in the air. Sweet an sharp an strange.

She settles in her rocker like thistledown. I pull up the stool an sit, facin her.

The hotwind that was leashed by her voice now roams free. The tent walls billow an snap. The harsh light of middle day’s softened here inside. It’s safe fer Auriel to take off her eyeshield. I know what I’ll see, but a tiny shock jest the same thrills me. She’s got eyes like Tracker. The palest blue of a thin winter sky. Uncanny wolfdog eyes.

I wait fer her to speak. She don’t say nuthin. She jest holds me with her steady gaze. I feel a red heat wash my neck. She knows about me an DeMalo. She knows about my tangle of lies. Of course she does. I so wish she didn’t. Auriel’s all air. She skims above the ground. Not fer her the hot earth of bodies. The drag of unwanted desire.

She told me I’d meet DeMalo. She told me to beware of him. She begged me to stay longer with her, so I’d be more prepared. She said other things, too, an I shrugged her off. All I could think of was goin after Jack.

I should of heeded you, I says. You warned me about him. You said he would know my shadows. He does. I … I lay with him, I—why am I sayin this? You already know.

The time’s short, she says. The blood moon draws near. What would you have my people do?

I give a little laugh. What would I have them do? I says. You know very well. Go onto the farms, back to the land. An I gotta git them kids away from Edenhome—if Webb Reno’s girl is there, she’ll be the key—but I need you to tell me what I gotta do after that. I bin thinkin an tryin to work out that final move that’ll bring all these things together an bring DeMalo down. I know that’s what’s gotta happen. The babyhouse, the slaves, how I needed these people from the Snake—that all came to me pretty clear. But after Edenhome, I cain’t see nuthin. It’s jest blackness. I bin so badly needin to see you, Auriel. Even you probly got no idea how much.

To my dismay, my voice wobbles. I gather it up an carry on.

Jest … please, I says. All I want is fer you to tell me what I gotta do to finish this.

I’m so sorry, she says. I cain’t.

A chill runs over my skin. Of course you can, I says. It’s my destiny. You told me so yerself. You said long before I was born a train of events was set in motion. You said all my roads lead to DeMalo an you was right, they have. An you told me—an my pa did too an he warn’t much of a star reader—you both said, all these people would need me an they do. An you said I mustn’t give up an I don’t. Yer grandfather knew about me. He gave you his bow to give to me. So, I don’t unnerstand. I jest need to know this one … this one last thing becuz I hafta git it right. So I need you—please—to tell me … please tell me what I need to do, Auriel. If this is my destiny, you must know.

Things ain’t the same as they was, she says. That’s why the tumult in the stars. You’ve changed so much, Saba. Yer changin all the time, so quickly. You ain’t the same girl you was at the Snake. You ain’t the same person you was two days ago, yesterday, this mornin. Who you are is yer destiny. As you change, so it changes. Do you see? Yer remakin yer destiny, rewritin it as you go, every moment of every day.

I am?

Yes, she says. The future is yers to shape.

I make my destiny myself, I says.

By the choices you make, she says.

But—there’s too much at stake, I says. So many lives. I dunny what DeMalo’s got planned. Here’s all these people an—How will I know if I’m doin the right thing?

The right thing is to do what yer doin, she says. Take one step at a time. Moment by moment, step by step, that’s how you got here. That’s how you’ll git there. An in every moment, as you choose, stay true to yerself. Who you really are. What you believe. You ain’t like nobody else.

There’s silence between us a long moment.

That’s all you got to say to me, I says. When I ask fer yer help, when I need to know, when—

I hafta stop fer a moment. The hot tightness of fear has my voice.

This ain’t nuthin, I whisper.

It’s everythin, she says.

My head’s poundin. The hotwind circles the tent. I can hear the chatter of voices outside. I feel distant from myself. Like I ain’t in my body. The tent walls bluster an threaten. In an out. They close in on me. There’s a roarin sound in my ears.

I stand. So does she. She reaches up to my face. Her fingers rest on my birthmoon tattoo.

Never lose sight of what you believe in, she says. Never, no matter what happens. What one person does affects the many. We’re all bound together, Saba. All threads in a single garment of destiny.

As I halt from the tent, the wind blasts at me, hot an gritty. I’m numb. I cain’t believe it. Auriel cain’t help me. I bin countin on her to see my way clear. Two nights to the blood moon. Two nights.

What now?

What do I do?

The voices shout at me from the bottom of the hill. Everybody that was there when I went in to see Auriel is still hangin around. Her people. My Free Hawk gang. All waitin, eager to be told what comes next. Where they’re goin. What’s gonna happen. My heart starts to pound. I need to think. I head away from them, fast as I can.

They come rushin after, yellin questions at me.

When do we fight? cries a man.

We don’t, I says loudly. I don’t turn to look. I keep walkin.

We need guns, calls another man. Bows an arrows.

No weapons, I says. This ain’t no blood vengeance.

We got guns in plenty. It’s Creed’s voice. More’n we’ll ever need, right here beneath our feet. Tunnels full of ’em.

I turn to face them. I said, no weapons! I yell.

A great furore erupts. Then why’re we here? We’ll go it alone! No weapons? That’s crazy.

I raise my voice to be heard above the noise. It’s the smartest an quickest way to win this fight!

Climb up where they can see you. Here! says Slim. On the cart!

Peg’s little cart stands nearby. The one I rode here in with Manuel. I hesitate a moment, but Slim an Tommo’s already seized me by the elbows. They hoist me into the back of it. Then the crowd’s surrounded me an before I can pause to think, I’m launchin headlong into speech.

There won’t be no fightin, I says. There ain’t no need to. At least, not the kinda fight you think. The smartest an quickest way to win New Eden is not to fight at all.

I turn as I speak, so’s everyone can hear me.

DeMalo makes out that he’s powerful, I says. Unbeatable. I’m here to tell you that he ain’t. He’s weak an grows weaker by the day. He don’t know it. He cain’t see it. An it’s happenin right unner his nose.

I look out on the sea of faces. They’re silent. Listenin. The hotwind whips at our clothes an hair. I feel the red hot risin high in me. But not to fight. To convince them.

The people of New Eden are slaves, I says. Each an every one, make no mistake. They may not wear iron collars an iron chains, though many in New Eden bear that injustice. But they all wear the slave bonds of fear. So long as we live in fear of this tyrant, we’ll always be his slave. Right now, at this moment, the people of New Eden are castin off the slave chains of fear. Yes. Yer children, yer friends an yer neighbours. DeMalo don’t know it. DeMalo cain’t see it. An it’s happenin right unner his nose.

I raise my voice. I lower it. I speak slowly, then fast. My hands reach out to them. All eyes stay upon me.

How’re they doin it? I says. They’re comin back together is how. Quietly, quickly, an stronger, much stronger, than ever they were before. They’re mendin what he broke apart. What did he break? Family. Friendship. True community. Why did he break it? Becuz he fears it. Becuz it’s stronger than anythin he could ever make. It’s stronger than he could ever hope to be.

Here in New Eden, they’re joinin hands once more. In peace an hope an strength. Mother an child, father an child, sister an brother, slave an slave, neighbour an neighbour. Joinin their hands in true community. Becuz hands joined together break iron chains. But they need more hands. They need yer hands.

Everybody here today. Every man, woman an child. All of you. An me. Our destinies have brought us together. In this place, at this time, to end this tyrant’s rule. To end the rule of all tyrants over us. We cast off our fear. We cast off our chains. We move forward in hope with joined hands. Tonight we go east. To freedom. An the future!

The crowd erupts. A thunderous great roar shakes the air. Then they’re cheerin an whistlin an clappin an reachin up to grab my hands.

I stand there. I’m dazed by the heat an the noise. The red hot’s suddenly gone an I’m altogether done in. I only jest finished speakin. But I cain’t fer the life of me remember what I said. Tommo an Manuel help me down from the cart.

I ain’t never heard speechin like that before, says Manuel.

Roustabout stuff, says Slim. A bit short on detail but—

Gather our crew, we’ll do that now, I says.

We take ourselfs off to a quiet place among the rocks. I stay on my feet. I think best on my feet.

I tell ’em what I’ve planned. That Manuel, Creed, Ash an Slim will work together. They’ll go with sixty of these folk, the strongest men an women, into the heart of New Eden. They should be slipped back onto farms where it’s certain they’ll be safe an welcome. One or two of ’em fer each farm, no more. The idea is to plant ’em around New Eden as wide as possible. They should work, help with chores, become part of daily life. Well away from any Tonton or nosy pokes. We’re bringin back together what DeMalo’s put asunder.

They perch on odd-shaped rocks or sprawl on the burnt yellow moss that covers the ground. They’re all watchin me. Listenin. There ain’t no sign of dissent.

I’ll leave the details to you, I says. But you’ll need to work fast.

How fast? says Creed.

We need ’em in place by the blood moon, I says.

Tall order, says Manuel. Not impossible.

Ash takes a last draw from a redclover ciggy stub. Whadda we do when they’re all set up? she says.

Make sure it stays quiet an trouble free, I says. I’ll git word to you as soon as I can.

Wait fer the big gawdamn rumble, right? says Slim.

Yeah, I says. That’s the one.

He sat there with the rest of them. No one looking at him would be able to tell how alarmed he was. He’d been so sure this idea would go nowhere. But it was gathering speed. Growing, spreading, out of control. If he didn’t move fast, his plans would be in ruins.

This course they were on was dangerous. Way beyond reckless. It bore all the marks of Jack’s hand. She was so in his sway, she was doing his work for him while he hid in the shadows.

It was time to make his move. To finish this. To finish Jack.

Where you headed, Saba? says Molly. She puts her arm through mine an walks alongside. Lugh an Tommo’s with her. I shake her off.

We need to start right away fer Edenhome, I says. Me an these boys an … whatshisname, that guy. We gotta find a way in there. It’s the last thing I gotta set up. His little girl might be there, she’s Emmi’s age. Webb Reno, that’s his name, he’s gonna help us. I gotta speak to him.

We’ll let him know, she says. Right now, you need to rest. Yer tired, my darlin.

An in that moment the concern in her lovely face so instantly, so painfully reminds me of my mother that the rush of lost memory makes me dizzy. They dive to steady me.

Leave be, I says. I shrug ’em off.

Molly says to Lugh, You do know she ain’t bin sleepin.

We stopped fer curfew. I could swear she slept, he says.

Saba, says Molly. Did you sleep last night?

Yes, I lie.

She’s lyin, says Tommo.

A woman starts to rise from a pit in the ground. Right in front of us, at our feet. She’s got long fair hair. Her name sounds in my heartbeat. Ma, I says. I take a step towards her.

You know yer ferbid to go down there, she says. That’s twice now, Davy, you got a swat comin. You better not of touched nuthin. She’s climbed out an set a lit lamp on the ground. She hoists out a wriggly little boy by his armpits. She notices us. Her face creases in dismay. So sorry, she says. He won’t do it agin. She snatches the lamp an rushes him off, scoldin him fiercely as they go.

I step, step to the edge of the pit. I look down, down to its blackness. It yawns

rough an narrow an deep. I know what lies within. The body in rusted armour. Laid out in the pit full length. The head wrapped around with a blood red shawl.

The wind flurries the shawl ties about me. I bend towards the dark. Tip my heavy head to the hush of cool earth.

There’s blood in there. Look, I says.

It rises in a tide from the red heart of the earth. If I step in, it’ll take me. It’ll drown me.

There ain’t no blood, that’s a gun store, says Lugh.

Him an Tommo take my arms. They move me away.

I got somethin to help. Come with me, says Molly.

Not long, she kept saying. A few hours. No more.

It ain’t ezzack, y’know, said Molly. I’ll do my best. From a tiny stone bottle she tipped the merest, barest blink of a teardrop. This is pure silence, she whispered.

No dreams, said Saba.

Not a one, I promise.

Molly weakened it three times in water. Saba drained the cup, then lay down. Short minutes later she was out. She slept like a child, curled on her side, bathed in a soft pool of lantern light. The dark fans of her lashes lay heavy on her cheeks. The little carved-out rock den hushed around them, dry and cool.

That was fast, he said.

An I hardly gave her nuthin. She ain’t bin sleepin or eatin, it’s hit her hard, said Molly. I figger it’ll take her through the night. She knelt beside her, arranging the blanket around her shoulders. She smoothed away the tiny frown between her eyes. It’s a heavy burden she bears, Molly said. There’s few could do what she’s doin. I couldn’t. Nor could you, I warrant.

Nero had flown into the den with them. He hovered about Saba, making anxious crow noises. Molly picked him up. I know, she said. You jest wanna help. But you gotta leave her now, she’s sleepin.

C’mere, Nero. He took him from her. He stayed quiet in his arms as he smoothed his feathers.

After his fright at Painted Rock, they’d had to work hard to win back Nero’s trust. The men, that is. Softly softly had finally won him around. An offensive of titbits, coaxing and gentle words. They’d all been at it, so he didn’t stand out from the rest. It seemed Nero didn’t know who’d snatched him. Only that it was a man. He was still ashamed, but relieved.

You must be hungry. Molly smiled at him. Follow the cookin smells an somebody’ll feed you, she said. I’ll stay here with Saba.

This was it. His heart quickened. I won’t be long, he said.

A woman gave him some damper and corn porridge. He found a quiet corner, away from curious eyes. While Nero ate his fill, he took four things from the pouch on his belt. A length of string, a thin peg of charcoal, the cherrybark scroll she’d dropped in the woods and a small roll of oilskin.

Molly had handed him a gift. Not just a few hours’ sleep, but a whole night. It was late afternoon. They’d be on the move again the moment Saba woke. That would probably be around dawn. His timing would be tight. But he had to chance it. He was depending on Nero’s speed. And his need to get back to Saba as soon as possible. Luckily, the changeable hotwind had died. So that wouldn’t slow him down.

He pondered for a bit. He made a few careful marks on the scroll. He drew the same marks on the piece of paper rolled inside the oilskin. After he’d rolled the skin back up and tied it with string, he put it safely in his pouch.

Then he waited till Nero had finished and wiped his beak clean on a grass tuft. You missed some, he said, and picked a fleck of corn from his head. As he tied the scroll to Nero’s leg, he noticed that his fingers were trembling. He stood, cradling Nero’s warmth to his chest.

Find Jack. Nero, find Jack, he said.

Then he gave him up to the air. The great black wings began to row steadily. Onward, westward, he watched. As their future beat towards the sun’s red blaze.