ANIE
Mel wasn’t sleeping. She sat with her back to the cart’s wheel, hands dropped in her lap, one leg stretched out and the other bent beneath her. Her brown hair was a tangle, roughly braided, quick, in three strands, like she just wanted it out of her way. Usually, she would have been smiling, not just with her mouth, but with her eyes and the quick way she turned her head as she looked around. But she was slow this morning, tired maybe, but she wasn’t shutting her eyes, wasn’t laying down, wasn’t yawning.
Anie watched her, with her arm bent under her head as a pillow. Thea was asleep behind Anie, breathing deep and low. Darien, Chas slept too, on the other side of the cart. Every once in a while, Anie heard one of them shift, roll over in uneasy sleep, but she could still see them under the cart, flat on the ground.
Momma and Wesson were missing. Anie couldn’t remember when she’d last seen them. Momma told her to go, and she had. Wesson was loading the cart. The cart, they’d found near the trees, wedged as far under the twisting branches as it would easily go before the roots caught the wheels too much. It was full, with their things, and with other people’s things, with whatever they had space for as they tried things out of the camp before they caught fire.
But Momma and Wesson weren’t there. They must have run.
Anie blinked slowly, trying not to move as she looked up at Mel. Her older sister was mostly still too, but she turned from one side to the other, slowly scanning the edges of the camp. Looking for them to come back, Anie knew.
“Are you watching me?” Mel murmured after a few minutes.
Anie swallowed a breath and her eyes went wide for just as second before she snapped them shut, like she’d been sleeping.
“No,” she said.
Mel laughed, softly. “Sneak,” she said.
Anie opened one eye, the one closest to the ground, hoping her hair and nose would hide it.
“You do that a lot,” Mel said. “Watch people when you think they won’t notice, listen in when you think there’s something to hear. Sneak.”
“You do it, too,” Anie told her.
Mel turned to her quickly, eyebrows raised. “I don’t think so.”
“Thea says you always have your nose in a corner it doesn’t belong,” Anie said.
“Oh.” Mel looked away again. “That. Never where I’m supposed to be.” She seemed to think of something, catching her lower lip in her teeth. She took a breath, let it out slow. “But you’re the sneak.”
Anie stuck her tongue out at her.
Mel stuck her tongue out, too, and rolled it because she knew Anie couldn’t, and that it annoyed her.
Anie wrinkled her nose. She tucked her head lower on her arm, curled her knees up toward her chest, and shut her eyes.
“Good night,” Mel said sweetly.
“It’s morning,” Anie mumbled.
“Go to sleep, both of you, or I’ll stuff you in a sack,” Thea said, motionless, eyes still shut.
“Seconded,” Darien said from the other side of the wagon.
Mel’s mouth dropped open and her smile returned in an instant. She glared at Darien under the cart, snapped her jaw shut, crossed her arms, then her ankles, and leaned back against the cart in silence. She winked at Anie. Then she turned away in silence.
Anie shut her eyes.
She didn’t sleep, and she was almost sure that Mel didn’t either. Every few minutes, she heard her shift, slow and quiet as if she didn’t want anyone to hear. Thea went back to breathing deeply, but Mel took a breath, held it, let it out, uneven. Anie listened, waiting to hear her get up and go running for a familiar face.
It was a long time before Anie heard the soft, padding footsteps approaching the cart. It was quiet, but quick, like a real sneak. It stopped on the other side of the cart, and Anie listened hard for the next motion. Her heart tapped against the inside of her ribs, one second, then two, then three, and she opened her eyes.
Mel had heard it, too. Her eyes were open, her head tilted back to catch the next sound. She put a finger to her lips as soon as she saw Anie start to sit up. Then she pulled her skirts close to her, gathered her knees beneath her and stood. One hand to the side of the cart for balance, she walked around the edge. Anie followed behind her, rolled forward on the balls of her feet, quiet. Together, they edged around the corner of the cart, Mel peering around it, and holding Anie just behind her.
It was a girl, a little older than Thea, with her hair cut short around her head, so the wet, blonde curls looked a little like spikes coming off her skull. Her jacket was strapped tight to her shoulders and waist. Her boots held her breeches close to her legs. Crouching, she put a gloved hand on Chas’ shoulder, and gently pushed down.
“Wake up,” she whispered.
Anie looked at Mel. Mel looked back, shook her head quick, and held still.
The girl looked over her shoulder at Darien, curled on his side. She shifted to scoot away from him, and closer to Chas. “Wakey-wakey,” she sing-songed. “You idiot.”
Mel wrinkled her nose.
Chas woke slow, turned over and looked at the girl like he might still be dreaming. His eyebrows folded together, as if he didn’t much like it. “Kalla?”
“I have an offer for you,” she whispered.
“You’re here?” He sat up, staring at her. “What happened to I run this city?”
Kalla shrugged. “Ern wanted to go. And Auntie and I weren’t getting along as well as I would have liked.”
“She caught you skimming?” Chas asked.
“No,” Kalla told him immediately, shaking her head at his absurdity. “She caught me passing hopefuls straight to Ern. She didn’t like being cut out of the track, but it wasn’t like she’d gotten her hands into the mud in years. But that’s old news.” She smiled at him. “I have an offer for you.”
“I’m even up,” Chas told her. “I’m paid off.”
Kalla took a breath, patiently. “I know. But the world is spinning in new and interesting directions just now. You might want to listen. It could be good for you.”
Chas hesitated. “Why?”
“Ern’s putting out a call for some girls and boys who are down for something tonight,” Kalla said.
“Something?” Chas repeated.
Kalla nodded. “He’s not saying what. Sounds like it could be a little rough, but there’ll be enough of us there to smooth it over.”
Anie shifted, pulling a little farther from the cart, trying to catch more of the girl’s face as she spoke. Mel started to push her back. Anie simply tucked her arm through hers, tucked herself close to her sister and didn’t move any farther.
“You want me to come with you?” Chas asked.
“Yeah,” Kalla told him.
“Why would I do that?” he demanded.
Kalla twisted, glanced over her shoulder at Darien, pulled away from him again and slid right up against Chas’ side, her heel against his leg, her hand still on his shoulder. “Because,” she whispered. Anie held her breath to listen. “Ern is crowing this morning. Whatever happened last night, he’s happy. He says he has a place for us all at the end of this mess, that it’ll be safe, and steady, and the world is gonna be in a different order soon. He says it’ll work out best for his people. He’s not talking crowns, or anything, but the people under him won’t ever have to hide again, no matter what king comes calling. You do this for him tonight, and it’ll be the first step to getting on that list.”
“I didn’t like being on his list last time,” Chas murmured.
Kalla rolled her eyes. “Wrong list. I’m not talking about the one where you owe him. This is one where he owes you. And he pays well.”
“Really?” Chas said.
Smiling, assured, Kalla nodded.
“So, you’re not skimming from him too?”
Kalla paused. Her smile fell away.
“Come on,” she said. “You wanted this once before, remember?”
“I don’t think so,” Chas said.
“You’re good,” Kalla told him. “We could use you.”
“No, thanks,” Chas said, a little firmer.
“You’ve done worse for him before–“
“You all must think I’m dead or something the way you talk like I can’t hear,” Darien said. Mel’s hand tightened around Anie’s arm. Kalla spun on one foot, still crouched, bracing herself against the ground. Chas dropped his head into his hand, ran his fingers roughly through his hair. Darien pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked Kalla in the eye. It was a heavier look than Anie had ever seen him level at someone, dull as if he didn’t really care what she said or did, and Anie was reminded immediately of the clank off one of Da’s smith hammers as it landed at its target.
“I’m not dead,” Darien said. “Just asleep.”
“Hello, Darien,” Kalla said warily.
“He said no,” Darien said, too fast, as if he hadn’t heard her.
Kalla clenched her jaw.
“So, get out of here,” Darien said. “Or he and I will show you just how good we are.”
Kalla paused, looked down just long enough to gather a thought, then tried, “There could be a place for you, too.”
Darien didn’t move. His mouth twisted, part way into a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “Have I ever thanked you properly for the way you helped my brother?”
Kalla stood, and loped off in the same quick, quiet steps she’d used on her approach. She didn’t look back, and after a few yards, she disappeared behind a knot of wagons. Letting out a long breath, Darien watched a moment longer, then slowly settled himself back down into the grass. Chas looked over at him, quiet, and laid down too.
“Thanks,” Chas said.
“You’re welcome,” Darien murmured.
Mel waited for them to start breathing low again, then slid back along the wagon, drawing Anie with her. Back on their side of the cart, Mel sat with her back to the wheel. Anie sank onto the grass in front of her, careful not to kick Thea awake. She held herself up on her fingers and looked Mel in the eye.
“Sneak,” Anie murmured.
Mel put a hand to Anie’s mouth, lightly stopping her before she said something more. She looked over her shoulder, listened, waiting to see if the boys had heard her. Anie froze, held a breath.
A long moment passed and Mel leaned in to whisper in Anie’s ear, “And you’re bad at it.”
apprentice, never master 