Words on Fire, page 17
Every step that crunched beneath my feet seemed to ring out like an alarm, for hoarfrost had blanketed the fields overnight. Maybe Lukas and I were covered in the frost, too, which seemed quite likely, cold as I was.
We traveled in near silence for endless kilometers, always on alert, ducking at any sound that could possibly signal a soldier was nearby. Each time we paused, after we were sure it was safe, Lukas and I would signal each other to move on.
By the time we finally emerged from the woods, the morning sun was low in the sky. It was a welcome bit of warmth, though the light was hardly a friend to us. We wouldn’t get away with crawling or sneaking around any longer. Border guards at this level would be on horseback, with better visibility than those on foot and more speed to chase us.
I looked at Lukas and we seemed to exchange the same thought. We couldn’t hide. We simply had to do our best to stay out of the way of the soldiers, and if that was impossible, then we’d test ourselves by playing out our roles as children of a peasant farmer.
Playing the most dangerous game of our lives.
I had time to reflect as I walked beside Lukas that morning, time to think about who I’d been and who I now was. In all my life, I’d never felt as strong as I did following this first border crossing, nor had I ever understood more that my life mattered as I did now.
I thought of my name, Audra. In Lithuanian, it meant “storm.”
Before today, it had never felt like the proper name for me. Rather, I’d have expected that I should be named for a mouse, or a soft breeze, or named for the moment after a whisper, when no one is quite sure whether you’ve spoken at all.
But now I had grown into my name. I was the storm.
I redoubled my grip on the sacks slung over my shoulder, bracing myself against the wind coming at me, and continued down the path.
I’d come this far. No matter what was ahead, I could not stop now.
I wouldn’t stop now.
And I understood, more than ever before, that the lives that depended upon me to succeed wanted to breathe in the air of a free country and exhale words spoken in our own language. I no longer worked for myself, or for my family. I had become a smuggler in the service of Lithuania.
Lithuania as it should be.
Free.
Lukas and I passed through the final ring of border guards without seeing a single person, and by midmorning caught a ride with a friendly trader who said he’d take us as far as Šiauliai, near where Lukas said we’d meet Ben.
“Why don’t we deliver these books first?” I asked.
“I don’t know the priest. He’ll be less suspicious if the books come directly from Ben.”
So we rode in the back of the wagon, both of us sleeping flat on our backs, too exhausted to care whether we looked ridiculous, whether we were headed in the right direction, whether we could trust this trader. I only woke up when Lukas shook my arm, saying, “We’re here, Audra. We need to go.”
I groaned but rolled out of the wagon and onto my feet. The sun had shifted in the sky, though I wasn’t sure how far we’d gone or exactly what time it was. At least my clothes were dry and I was warm again.
“We’ll walk the rest of the way,” Lukas told me after the trader had left. He couldn’t be serious!
I picked up my two sacks of books. “How far?”
It probably wasn’t far, but no matter how he answered, it would seem like half a world away. After all the walking I’d done lately, my legs were tired, my boots had holes in them, and I would’ve really preferred if the trader had just taken us all the way to wherever Ben was.
Lukas and I turned down a dirt road marked only by wagon wheels that had crossed it from time to time, though even the road was overgrown with thick grasses. I took comfort from that. This wasn’t a place where many people had gone before, which meant it wasn’t a place the soldiers would have much interest in.
“What do you know of the Hill of Crosses?” Lukas asked as we walked.
“Nothing.” Which was true in the most literal sense. I’d never heard of it and could only guess that its name had some religious significance.
“I read a book on it,” Lukas said. “About sixty years ago, there was an uprising here—”
“The one that ended with all our books being banned?”
Lukas chuckled. “No, that uprising was thirty years ago. But every generation has to try to prove itself against the Russian Empire, I suppose. And every uprising fails sooner or later, including the one sixty years ago. That fight happened on the same hill where we’re now headed, and it became a major battle. So many fighters were killed that most families couldn’t find the bodies of their loved ones. With no other way to mourn their loss, one family placed a cross on the site of the battle. And then another did it, and another. I heard that by now, there are over a hundred crosses.”
“In honor of the dead?”
Lukas shook his head. “Yes, but it’s so much more now. The crosses are a reminder of the people who belong to this country, those who have fought to preserve it. It’s in honor of all Lithuanians.”
“Like you?” I turned to him. “Were you born here in Lithuania, Lukas?”
He stepped backward. “Of course.”
“Where?”
He hesitated, then slowly shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Do your parents know where you are?” When he didn’t answer, I added, “Don’t you miss them?”
“I do miss my mother,” he murmured.
So he had a mother, somewhere. I said, “Go see her! To have my family back again, I would give up anything!”
“Even me?” I immediately fell silent as Lukas kicked at the ground, then said, “Would you even give me up, Audra? That’s what Officer Rusakov wanted from you, wasn’t it?”
I paused far too long as an ache worked its way through my chest, finally managing to say, “If you know that, then you also know I refused his offer.”
“I do know that. But why didn’t you tell me he’d made the offer? Don’t you think that’s something I’d want to know?”
“I didn’t tell you …” I had to say the rest, had to make myself say the words, no matter how difficult it was. “I couldn’t tell you until I knew what I’d decided.”
He clicked his tongue and looked away, then after what felt like hours, said, “I know how hard that decision must have been.”
“Knowing that I’ll never see my parents again is awful, but if I turned you over to Rusakov, then I’d be the cause of whatever he did to you—imprisonment, or Siberia, or hanging—and I couldn’t live with that. Also …” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never had a friend before, but I’m fairly sure turning you in would make me the worst friend ever.”
Despite the seriousness of our conversation, he smiled. “Yes, I believe it would. I’m sorry you had to make such a decision. I can’t tell you if it was right or wrong, but I am glad I’m still here.”
By then, we had reached the hill of crosses, illuminated by a bright moon in the sky. The land was relatively flat all around, so although the hill wasn’t particularly high, its very presence felt significant. And just as Lukas had described, at least a hundred crosses had been planted into the ground, some made of wood, others of metal, some ornate and elegant, others equally beautiful in their simplicity.
Lukas wandered at my side until he noticed a few old sticks that had fallen from a nearby tree. He broke off the ends of two of them to make a simple cross, then tied it with some twine from his pocket.
“Here,” he said, placing it in my hands. “For your parents and all they fought for.”
“Thank you.” I walked back to the hill and laid my cross on the beam of another large wooden cross. “I believe if my parents knew what I was doing, they’d be proud.”
“You’ll have to tell them all about it,” Lukas replied. “When you see them again.”
He gave my hand a squeeze, and I realized how sad I would be if I couldn’t do this work anymore, because it would mean I would no longer see him, likely ever again. The smuggling mattered, but my friendship with Lukas mattered as well.
“They’re here!” a familiar voice called.
I turned to see Milda waving at us, with no disguise. Just Milda in a striped skirt with a white shirt and apron, a red vest, and with her gray hair in a netted cap. I stared back at her without waving, trying to convince myself it really was Milda. A … normal version of the woman I was used to seeing, which wasn’t normal at all. She was standing in front of an empty wagon, feeding one of the horses.
I ran down the hill and threw my arms around her, though when we separated, she put her hands on my shoulders. “Ben won’t be happy to see you.”
“Indeed I am not,” he grunted, walking up behind us, his face in a deep frown.
I’d already expected that from him, so I merely hugged him, too, even though his arms remained stiffly at his side. “You saved me, Ben. You got me out of that prison.”
Once I’d released him, Ben scrunched his face and threw out a dismissive hand. “Nah, you saved yourself. A foolish girl like you, I knew you’d come up with a wilder scheme than I ever could to get yourself back to us. I only needed to give you the right tools.”
“You didn’t know it would work, though. What if I couldn’t figure it out?”
He turned to me and his expression became serious. “I won’t always be there to save you or teach you. Lukas won’t always be there to keep an eye on you. At some point, Audra, you were going to have to learn to look out for yourself, and you did.”
“That’s why you can trust me to be here now.”
“She was good at the border,” Lukas said, offering me a hand into the back of the wagon. I gave him my books first, then climbed in with him. “Really good, and not just at the border, but everywhere she smuggles. Certainly better than I was when I started out.”
If Lukas never paid me another compliment in my life, I figured that was about the nicest thing he could have said, and I beamed with pride.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“My place.” Ben coughed as he climbed into the driver’s seat beside Milda. A deep cough that concerned me, though he’d only scold me if I pointed it out. “It isn’t much for a home, but the Cossacks don’t seem to know about it, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s a castle.”
We drove for a half hour to a small hut in a tiny patch of woods, which I supposed was about as far from everything as a person could get. Ben was right to describe it in such humble terms. The walls were made of logs that had been stacked and mudded together, and I expected the thatch roof likely collapsed with each new snowfall. But it had a small rock chimney and smoke was coming from it, and even from out here, I smelled something delicious.
“We kept a stew warm for you,” Milda said. “As we have every night, hoping you would arrive safely.”
She dished up bowls of stew for both Lukas and me, then offered one to Ben, who said he wasn’t hungry. He definitely wasn’t feeling well. Even if I were on my deathbed, I’d still never refuse one of Milda’s meals.
While we ate, Milda sat across from me and said, “I still haven’t decided whether to thank you or scold you. You traded yourself as a prisoner for me.”
“I did the right thing, Milda,” I said, then lowered my eyes. “But only because I almost did the wrong thing. Officer Rusakov wanted me to give up Lukas to him, and maybe Ben as well. So he was always planning to arrest me that night, because he was sure I’d give him the names. I hoped he’d be so consumed with the thought of arresting me that he’d forget about you.”
My confession clearly came as a surprise to Milda and Ben, both who turned their attention to Lukas for his reaction. But with a kind smile at me, Lukas said, “Audra and I already settled this.” He finished with a wink, a reminder that suggested he understood, and that there was nothing to forgive.
With those few words, Milda’s expression warmed again and she said, “Well, in that case, I think you both need a double serving of supper.”
While I ate, I looked at Ben. “So what happens now?”
Ben coughed again. “The same thing that Lukas was supposed to take care of before. You’re leaving Lithuania and this time we’ll send Milda with you.”
I’d already anticipated that answer, but more than ever, I didn’t want to leave. Not now, when I was finally figuring out how to do this work. “No, Ben, I can still help!”
He shook his head. “They know who you are, they’ve seen what you can do. If you are caught again, this time they probably won’t even send you to Siberia. They’ll hold a public hanging, prove to the people that everyone who breaks the law will be punished, no matter who it is.”
“They wouldn’t hang someone as young as me,” I said, realizing my hand had inadvertently gone to my neck.
“They have before, and they will again if necessary. Until you’re older, you’re finished with smuggling.”
“I just need to be smarter about it, like you are. You can teach me, you can show me what to do!”
Ben waved away that idea. “You haven’t survived so far because of anything I’ve taught you. You survive on your instincts, your bag of magic tricks, and your foolish hope that there will ever be an end to this. I can’t teach you to be smart, or weed the foolishness out of you—that’s just who you are.”
My cheeks warmed. “Then trust who I am. Let me keep smuggling.”
“Your parents would agree with me, Audra. They would say—”
“My parents aren’t here anymore, isn’t that your whole point?”
“Then I’ll act as your father, and I’m telling you—”
“You are not my father, Ben. You are not in charge of me!” I realized I was yelling, but I didn’t care. For once, I needed Ben to hear me. “My parents left me alone and now I have to make my own decisions. I don’t care if you want me to continue smuggling or not. I will do it because that’s what I’ve decided!”
Ben opened his mouth, then closed it and stared at me. After he had calmed himself, he shook his head. “No, you will not. First chance we get, Lukas and I are taking you and Milda out of Lithuania.”
I slammed my spoon down on the table, then threw back my chair and stomped outside. They let me stay there until my temper had cooled off, and when I walked back inside, Milda only pointed to a bedroll that had been laid open on the floor near the fire. “That’s for you,” she said. “Take a few days to rest and I’m sure you’ll begin to see that Ben is right.”
With some reluctance, I thanked her and lay down to sleep. But it didn’t come easily to me. All I could think about as I finally closed my eyes was that I already knew that Ben was right. The smartest thing to do was to leave the country and get to where it was safe.
And despite that, I intended to stay. There were still more books to be carried, more shelves to be filled. I couldn’t give up now.
The few days they wanted me to rest became a long week of waiting for Ben, who had come down with a cold that seemed to be getting worse each day. But when I asked about his health, he only brushed me aside and said, “You won’t use my little cough as an excuse to stay here. Lukas and I are going to fill the order for the priest and then take you back where you belong. Milda won’t be far behind, though she has some deliveries of her own to handle on the way out of the country.”
“She’s willing to give up book smuggling?” I asked.
“She has to, for the same reasons that you do,” Ben said. “No more arguing.”
If we weren’t going to argue, then we weren’t going to speak, for I couldn’t do one and not the other. When Ben was finally well enough to travel, I rode in the back of the wagon with Lukas, rather than up front beside him, in protest, which he said was all the better because then I could keep watch for Cossacks. By late afternoon, we arrived in Kražiai, and made our delivery of books to a dark-haired priest who met us at the doors of a large and beautiful white church with tall windows on all sides and a tower on the front. After ushering us inside and inspecting our titles, he put money in Ben’s hand, then gave him a paper, saying, “Here are the orders for our next books.”
“Already?” I asked.
“Already,” the priest echoed. “The people here have been waiting weeks in hopes of getting these books. They will be so delighted to finally have them. So when can you return?”
I swallowed hard. It didn’t appear that I’d be allowed to come back again. But where Ben could hear, I said, “The sooner the better, no?”
The priest gestured around him. “This church has stood for over one hundred years, outlasting war and fire and the ravages of nature. But it faces a new enemy now, a tsar who insists we believe in his God. At first, he politely invited us to abandon this place and gather in his own cathedrals. When we refused, he tried to lure us away through rewards and bribery. Now, when all else fails, he intends to force us out.” The priest took a deep breath. “The soldiers among us have new orders, to destroy our churches and our relics. If they cannot remove the people from the church, they will simply remove the church and the people will have nowhere else to go for worship. One day soon, they will come for this place. The only weapon I have to stop them is a people who feel powerful enough to stand between a Cossack soldier and the doors of this building. And how do I make them feel powerful?”
“You give them books,” I whispered.
He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I know the risks you are taking, and I beg your forgiveness for continuing to ask more of you, but despite how young you are—or maybe because of how young you are—you are finding ways past the soldiers. Maybe they see you but don’t believe a girl your age could commit such serious crimes. Or maybe they never see you because a girl your age is more clever than they wish to believe. Either way, I have books here today that I did not have last night, and I hope that I can tell my people to expect more soon. Will you bring them?”
Ben said, “Stop filling her head with this talk. She …” He paused for a coughing spasm, one that continued on even after the priest helped him into the pew of a church.
