The Glass Arrow(89)

“Leave her alone!” cries a shrill voice. I crumble sideways, still blinking hard, and register a little boy with a cap of straight black hair. A broom handle is held fast in his grip. He’s tall for his age. So tall. And the boyish fat on his cheeks is all but gone. His black eyes are as sharp as knives.

“T-tam?”

“Leave us alone!” says another voice. There, beside him, is Nina. She’s wearing a white apron, as is her brother. Her skinny arms stick out from the sleeves and grasp a metal dustpan like a knife in both hands. Her hair is wound up, much like Salma’s. In her ears hang long beaded earrings. The sign of the Unpromised.

Their clothing. The earrings. I know what’s happened then. Salma has done it. She’s turned my family in.

My throat is so tight I have to cough to speak.

“Tam, Nina, it’s me. It’s Aya.”

I need to be softer, gentler. They’re afraid, and gentleness is what they need, but it’s so hard to be calm.

Kiran appears. There’s a metallic box in his hands. A scanner box; he must have gotten it off the ceiling in the main room. He lays it on the floor and stomps the heel of his boot into it.

The twins are looking between us with frightened stares. The fear in their eyes makes me want to curl up and die.

“We’ve got to go,” I tell them. “I’m taking you home.”

They keep staring. It’s like they don’t recognize me. It’s like they’ve forgotten me, when all I’ve thought of these past months is them.

“Please.” What I’m asking for, I don’t know, but when I reach forward and grab Tam’s arm, he raises the broom as though he’ll hit me again.

“I’m your cousin, Aya,” I say, my heart breaking. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m here now, it’s going to be all right.”

Nina’s crying. She’s looking to Salma now, who is hiding her face in her hands.

“Salma, tell them. Tell them it’s true.”

Nothing.

“Aya,” presses Kiran.

“No,” I shake my head. “We have time. There’s time.” The grief is grasping at my limbs, pulling me into the floor.

Tam whispers something I can’t hear.

“What?” I ask, crawling before him and rising to my knees. But he’s so tall now, he’s a head above me.

“You left us,” he says.

“I didn’t leave. They took me. The Trackers got me.”

“You left us!” he yells. “Salma told how you left us and went to the city. How you didn’t want us anymore.”

“We came to the city, too,” says Nina. “She said you’d be here, but you weren’t.”

“I’m here now,” I say quickly. “I never would have left you. You know that. They took me. That’s what happened. Tell them, Salma!”

She looks at me, the tears in her round brown eyes all dried up. In their place is pleading, and it makes my chest ache even more.

“We are just women,” she says. “Why must you always try to be more?”

I don’t know what to say. It’s not until Kiran grabs my shoulder that I can even look away.

“It’s true,” says Salma to the twins. “Aya was taken.”

They stare at her and then back at me. Nina’s crying. She goes to Tam, and he puts his arms protectively around her shoulders. When did he start doing that? When did he learn to take care of her? Even now I swell with pride.

“I’m taking them home,” I tell Salma. “Come if you want.”

She does not get up off the floor.

Very slowly, Tam lowers his broom.

“Come on, Salma,” he says expectantly. She doesn’t get up.

Nina walks tentatively over to me, and after a long, searching gaze, places her forehead against my stomach. The tears stream from my eyes, and my arms, that have longed to hold her all these days, are finally filled.

I remove her earrings and feel them burn my palm.

“Get up!” Tam orders Salma. She looks away from him with shame.

I grab her arm, preparing to hoist her up. The last chance that I will give her. She shakes me off and turns away. I drop the Unpromised earrings, and they make a nest of beads in her lap.

“Let’s go.” I turn away, my heart tearing, and we head to the front of the building.

I don’t look back. Not once.





CHAPTER 22

KIRAN MOTIONS FOR LORCAN to lead the palomino into an alley between the pharmacy and the doctor’s office. There we empty the hides from the leather sacks and hoist the twins into their places. I notch small holes in the sacks so they can breathe, and hope that no one notices how the shape of these packs has changed completely from the full stuffing of before.

The twins don’t complain. They’re the bravest kids I know.

“Aya,” Nina whispers as I place a fur over her.

“Yes?”

“The Driver boy can talk.”

I smile. “I know. But it’s a secret, okay? We can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I’m good at secrets.”

“Quiet now.”

She doesn’t make another sound. The last I see of her is the reflection of her eyes in the darkness, just before I cover her with a pelt.