Blood Red Road (13 page)

Miz Pinch comes towards me. She’s got a knife. She reaches out an I cower back aginst the wall. She grabs the back of my neck in a tight grip. I feed you, water you an then I slit yer throat, she says. I know that’s what yer thinkin. Huh. No such luck.

She grabs hold of my long braid an gives it a sharp twist, bringin my head down. I wince as pain shoots along my scalp. She saws at the top of the braid with her knife an pretty soon she’s cut it off. She holds it up.

That’s a fine tail of hair, she says. Should fetch a good price.

Then she brings over a basin of hot water, a bar of soap an a straight razor. Without sayin a word, she throws the water over my head, soakin me. She rubs the soap over my head. It
runs down into my eyes, makes ’em sting an water. I don’t make a peep. I look at Emmi, give her a little smile to tell her not to worry.

Then I stare straight ahead. Once she’s got me soaped to her likin, she takes the razor an starts shavin off my hair. Clumps drop onto the floor with a wet plop.

You don’t want hair fer the Cage, she says. A smart fighter shaves their head. You don’t wanna give yer opponent nuthin to hang onto. Whatever you do, don’t let ’em git hold of yer ears. They’ll rip a ear offa yer head before you know it. Cage fightin ain’t ezzackly what you’d call clean.

Jest then, I notice what she’s got around her neck. My heartstone. The pink heartstone that my mother gave to Mercy. That Mercy gave to me. She must of gone through my stuff an took what she wanted.

I hiss in a breath. My heart leaps into my throat. I wanna rip it from around her neck. Claw her face to pieces fer darin to even touch it. I twist myself outta her grasp. Gimme that back! I says.

She jumps back, all startled. Then she sees what I’m lookin at. Stretches her mouth into a mean, thin lipped smile. Oh, she says, I see yer admirin my new necklace. I found it lyin around. Ain’t it amazin how careless people is with their valuables?

I glare hate at her. Pull on my chains, my fists clenched.

Careful now, beauty, she says. She lifts the razor in her hand an looks over at Emmi.

I slump back.

She reaches out. Grabs my hair. Then she goes on shavin my head till I ain’t gone none left. Till I’m completely bald.

They set Emmi free an put her to work, scrubbin the floor, haulin water an washin the dishes an pots. All the dirty work they don’t wanna do theirselves.

An jest to make sure I unnerstand the way things is, that she means what she says, Miz Pinch hits Em when she catches her speakin to me or when she don’t move quick enough. Hits her over the head, pinches her on the arm. Once, she sticks out her foot an trips her while she’s carryin a bucket of water an then she hits her when it spills.

Em jest picks herself up an keeps workin. She don’t make a sound.

Neether do I. But my hands curl into fists an my nails dig into my palms so hard that they bleed.

We travel with the wind. Stoppin when it rests, movin when it blows. But it rests more’n it blows. I only git glimpses of daylight or moonlight when the Pinches come an go outta the cabin. I ain’t got a clue how many days have passed an nor does Em. Feels like we’ve bin here ferever.

Emmi’s face gits more pinched an pale. An she weeps silently at night.

They feed me all the best food. They want me to be strong.

I spend my time sittin on my bunk. I’m shackled hand an foot an chained to the wall fer good measure. Miz Pinch sets me free three times a day to stretch my arms an legs, but only inside the hut. While I do, she holds a knife to Emmi’s throat.

But not jest any knife. My knife. The one I keep shoved down inside my boot sheath. The one she took offa me. Miz Pinch smiles, tauntin me, provokin me. Go on, that smile says, jest try it. Try it an see what happens. She’d like that. To hurt Em with my knife.

So I’m free but I cain’t do a thing.

I don’t let my face show what I’m thinkin. Don’t let her see the hate that burns in my heart. The rage that gnaws at my gut. I keep my face blank.

I watch her. I watch him.

I wait fer the right moment.

If the wind blows us fair, tomorrow we’ll be in Hopetown.

R
OOSTER
P
INCH THROWS ANCHOR ON THE
D
ESERT
S
WAN
jest outside Hopetown.

Miz Pinch unties me an jerks her head.

I follow her, shufflin onto deck in my ankle an wrist chains. I stand there, blinkin in the bright daylight. I feel dazed. I ain’t bin outside the dark cramped hut since they snatched us. Must be five, six days ago now. I squint at the sun. High noon.

Hopetown spreads out in front of us, half a league away. It squats at the foot of a dusty hill an straggles up its slopes. I ain’t never seen more’n one shanty at a time before. Heard tell of how Wreckers lived, all crammed close together in cities an towns, but never thought I’d see such a place.

An it never crossed my mind that if I did see such a place, it wouldn’t be nuthin more’n a heap of ramshack shanties leanin one aginst th’other. It looks like the whole lot ’ud come tumblin down if you gave one a good kick.

What a fine sight! says Pinch. Nothing like the hurly burly of city life to gladden the heart!

There’s commotion all around us. Folks rattle past the Swan in clouds of dust, in carts pulled by fierce-lookin wolfdogs, on horseback, by mule an camel, on foot. They flow in an outta a big gate in the junk palisade that runs all around
Hopetown. I ain’t never seen so many people before in my life. I look this way an that, tryin to take it all in.

Emmi’s standin next to me. The Pinches ain’t lookin. I lift my chained hands an she slips unnerneath. She wraps her arms around my waist an gives me a fierce hug. The Pinches keep her workin so hard, she’s even scrawnier’n usual.

This is it, I says. Hopetown.

What’s gonna happen now? she whispers.

I dunno, I says. We’ll find out soon enough, I reckon. Whatever happens, keep yer eyes peeled fer Lugh.

Jest then, a familiar caw caw caw rings out. I look up. A big black bird circles, high above. I’d know that wingspan anywhere.

Nero! I says. He swoops down, buzzes jest over our heads, then soars on up agin. My heart soars with him. Tears spring to my eyes. He must of bin followin us the whole time, I says.

I knew he wouldn’t leave us! says Em. I knew it!

You better move, I says. Quick, before she sees you.

I lift my hands an jest as she slips out agin, Miz Pinch turns around. She frowns. What’s goin on? You know the rules!

She grabs Emmi. Raises her arm to backhand her. Jest then Pinch calls out, Miz Pinch! The chariot’s here, my love!

She stops. Looks over her shoulder.

A scabby camel steps up beside the Swan. He’s pullin a rusted out car behind him, hitched on with a harness. By the filthy look on his face, he ain’t too pleased with how things’ve worked out fer him. He rolls his eyes an snaps his long
yellow teeth at the legs of the little boy perched on his hump.

Miz Pinch turns back. I’ll tend to you later, she hisses to Em. Right now, I got bigger business.

C’mon, missus, I ain’t got all day, says the camel boy. Where to?

Miz Pinch yanks at my chains. I stumble forwards.

Take us to the Cage Master, she says.

I peer outta the windows as we bump slowly through Hopetown on flat tires. It’s so crowded with people we cain’t hardly move. They press aginst the chariot, starin in at us. The camel boy leans down an cracks his whip at ’em, tryin to clear the way.

I look fer golden hair tied back in a long braid. Fer eyes blue as a summer sky.

Are you here, Lugh?

A man’s back. Broad shoulders, gold hair—short, but they could of cut his hair by now—the right height. My heart skips a beat. Every muscle in my body goes tense.

Turn around, turn around, oh please turn around, let me see you
.

He does. It ain’t Lugh.

At that moment, a man leans through the window. He grabs my arm an starts to try an pull me out, chains an all.

I don’t stop to think. I twist, I scrabble, I brace myself on the chariot, give myself a foothold.

Stop! Rooster Pinch beats at the man’s head with his tattered umburella. Unhand her!

Saba! Emmi cries.

The red hot floods me. I bite down on his filthy hand. He yells out but hangs on. I bite harder. Deeper. I bite till I taste his blood. He shrieks an lets go. He falls back. Gits swallowed by the crowd.

That’s it! shouts Pinch. Run, you villain! You coward! Ha! No one crosses Rooster Pinch!

Saba, says Emmi. Are y’okay?

I spit outta the window. Spit out the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. I sit back in my seat. I wipe my mouth with my chained hands. I’m fine, I says.

I look over at Miz Pinch. She ain’t moved through the whole thing. She’s jest sat there, starin at me.

An there’s a little smile on her face.

The camel boy parks the chariot in front of a long low stone buildin on the edge of Hopetown. It’s a proper built place, not a Wrecker-junk shanty like the rest.

You bring the child an remember, keep yer mouth shut, says Miz Pinch to Rooster as we git out. I’ll deal with the Cage Master.

She grabs my hand chains an hauls me along behind her. Pinch brings Emmi by the hand. Two big mean-lookin men step in front of the door as we come up to it. My heart skips a beat. They’re dressed in long black tunics with leather body armor over top. Jest like the men who took Lugh. They must be Tonton, like Mercy told me about.

Cage Master ain’t in, says one.

He’ll be in fer me, says Miz Pinch. Tell him Miz Pinch is here. Say I got somethin special fer him.

They look at us with hard eyes. They got merciless faces.

Didn’t you hear me? the Tonton says. I said, he ain’t in.

You’ll tell him I’m here if you know what’s good fer you, says Miz Pinch.

One of ’em jerks his head an th’other one opens the door an disappears inside. He’s back soon.

You can go in, he says. But you better be quick.

We all go in.

The Cage Master sits behind a big stone table in a white room. In the wall behind the table, there’s a big wooden door. A dull roar, the muffled sound of many voices, comes from behind it.

There’s partly et food spread out all over the table in a big mess—flatbread an platters of roast meat an boiled pigeon eggs an jugs of grog. The Cage Master hardly even looks up
when we come in, he’s so busy stuffin it all into his mouth. He’s got a fat, round, pink face with three chins an a few long hanks of hair plastered flat to his skull. There’s a red napkin tied around his neck.

Puffed up, greedy toad. I ain’t afeared of you
.

He picks up a roasted sparrow an crams the whole thing in his mouth. Well, what is it? he says. I’m a busy man, Miz Pinch. I ain’t in the mood fer no time wasters.

Miz Pinch goes still. Like a rattlesnake about to strike. Them Tonton guards of yers is all chaaled up, Cage Master, she says. You better hope that my—that … certain people don’t find out that yer lettin standards slip.

His face goes pale. He pulls the napkin from his neck an wipes his greasy mouth an fat greasy fingers on it. But … my guards’re clean, he says, I swear they are!