When We Hold Each Other Up, page 3
Granmum squeezed me against her chest. “It must, it must.”
A deep roar echoed through the woods, and Uncle Miguel and Grandmother called blessings as I ran.
“May starlight guard you and sunlight guide you!”
“May your path follow a river!”
Hooves pounded behind me, and for a moment, I hoped Octavia had joined me on Brother, but he galloped riderless. I swung onto his back, asking him to gallop harder, but he needed no urging.
We reached the clearing before the fear could set in my bones. No guidance, no weapon, no family following. I might as well be food for the Harmonizers that had surely overwhelmed Eduardo by now.
A hundred yards around the cave, the trees had vanished. Only a hazy dust hung in the air. Bodies scattered the ground like deadwood—in pieces. Piles of dust or bits of bone heaped around chunks of flesh. Three Harmonizers had backed Eduardo into the cave entrance. He held a metal rod with a noose at one end, using it as a makeshift spear. Blood dripped off the pole.
Brother veered toward the cave entrance and reared, kicking at the group. One Harmonizer tripped, and Eduardo pinned them to the ground with the metal rod. He stomped a bare foot onto their ribs. When they touched, light flashed, illuminating both their veins and bones, like the strike of a match. The Harmonizer went limp.
The other two glanced between us and Eduardo before running for the woods. Eduardo wrenched up the metal pole and hurled it with more strength than his thin frame promised. The metal rod pierced one Harmonizer’s gut, and they collapsed. The other escaped.
Eduardo limped over and stomped a foot onto the Harmonizer’s back. At the touch of Eduardo’s heel, the flash twisted up the other Harmonizer, even though they still breathed. Eduardo staggered back, then fell to his knees.
I swung off Brother’s back. “Eduardo!”
He tried to stand but dropped to his knees again. “I told you to leave!” His voice broke.
I crouched in front of him. Red welts clawed his face and blood trickled from a line across his throat where they must’ve caught him with the noose. Light trembled from his palms where the skin blackened and cracked as if he’d picked up an ember.
He gasped, swaying on his knees. “I said—to leave. This is my role, what I do. For you.”
I gripped his shoulder even as he tried to wrench away. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
He snarled. “Do you see what I am?” He motioned to the bodies. “This is why you leave me alone.”
I cupped my hands around his. “Balance takes two.”
He twitched away, wrapping his arms around himself. “What did I tell you—never touch a Harmonizer.”
A warning quiet settled over what had once been a safe place, a winter nest. Now, no trees shielded the entrance, and silence declared it a graveyard. At least, it wasn’t my family’s grave.
I stood and hooked an arm under his shoulder. “There’s no reason to stay here.” He let me haul him upright.
We limped to the apple orchard with Brother trailing behind, his ears alert and head raised. I leaned Eduardo against an apple tree, and it began to wither.
He sighed, his eyes half-closing.
I stood over him just as I had days earlier. “I’m not leaving you this time.”
He leaned away from the trunk, hiding his face in his blackened hands. “You don’t understand, I—”
I shushed him. “My Uncle Miguel used to say there were two types of stories in the world. A stranger comes to town or someone leaves on an adventure. I asked him what it means when they both happen at once, and he came up with a new theory: all stories are about love.” I settled beside him. “I love this place and don’t want the city to take it unless it’s necessary. You must have loved very much in the past, or else you wouldn’t have saved my family, a bunch of strangers.”
He sagged against the apple tree. “It’s not safe, Rowan.”
The tree groaned as it withered beneath his quiet touch. “Let me tell you a story about what I first remember. It’s not very safe at all. I began on horseback, at least, that’s what I remember when I ran away from the city…”
As I wove Uncle Miguel’s theory into my story about a strange child on a strange horse, their narrow escapes, journeying from family to family until we stuck, only now leaving again—I imagined how, in a few hours, the apple orchard would be gone, and we would mount Brother, riding into the hills to warn others, to help others.
Two strangers, going on an adventure.
Part II
The path comes, the path goes.
Chapter Three
In the early morning, people surrounded us. Since they didn’t try to steal or kill Brother, who’d woken me with a hoof stamp before trotting off, I guessed their motives weren’t violent.
And, Eduardo hadn’t stirred, stretched out by the campfire’s embers. Something dangerous would have him fighting, unless he felt too exhausted. After we had left the orchard, he’d rested as much as possible, riding Brother because I insisted. He’d kept his face tilted toward the sun as we headed for the river, hoping to intercept others coming to winter at the cave or in the hollow. Eduardo had barely spoken except to ask if his plan sounded right from what I knew of the area. The marks around his jaw and neck still blotched red, and he hid them with a scarf.
All night, he didn’t move from that position, even when we were slowly and quietly surrounded. The stories said Harmonizers didn’t sleep, but his breathing had evened into peacefulness. Maybe Harmonizers as old as him did sleep.
I followed his example, staying loose and dozing. A fawn in the tall grass. From the sounds and shift in the air, they’d barricaded us. The footfalls sounded human, and they smelled damp and murky like the river.
Sunlight burned off the mist, and frost crisped my blankets. The shapes surrounding us became solid, some sort of makeshift wall.
Feet shuffled in the frosty undergrowth. A stick snapped. “Come on, now. No Harmonizer sleeps. What are you waiting for?”
I fully opened my eyes. The walls came into focus: boats. Kayaks and canoes circled us, their hulls facing inward. People braced them, holding their paddles like spears. Only Riverroaders had this many boats. They followed the river until wintering on the lake beaches outside Haven City, starting the cycle over when the ice melted.
Eduardo rose on an elbow. “You did us the favor of not attacking in the night, so I wanted the sunlight to show you we are not a threat. Simply travelers.” He glanced at me and nodded, so I sat upright.
No familiar faces peaked over the edges of the boats, but several of the paddles dipped. A younger person with a reddish beard bright against pale skin held a fishing spear, glaring at Eduardo. That glare—the same type of look Granmum had until Eduardo chased off the other Harmonizers.
I pulled into a crouch. “We have a message for you.” The spear-holder glanced my way, body still angled toward Eduardo. “The city is expanding.”
A few sharp breaths caught the quiet.
Now, the spear-holder turned to face me. “Is that what this one told you? Little one, Harmonizers are—”
I stood, my fists clenched at my sides. “I saw it. The city came for my family. Eduardo warned us.” I took a breath, just like Uncle Miguel taught me. Hook the audience, then slow down. Don’t rush the tale. “We’d just reached our winter camp when I found him in an apple orchard, nearly dead, feeding off the trees to stay alive.”
The spear-holder huffed.
I glanced at them but stuck to Uncle Miguel’s lesson. Make eye contact with everyone, so you don’t tell the story to just one person. Use the pauses. “My Granmum thought like you.” I pivoted, catching the older eyes. “She wanted to leave him to—to—” I glanced down at Eduardo. He sat cross-legged, watching me like the others. The oars still bristled toward him. “I helped Eduardo. And he helped us when the Harmonizers came to take.” I turned toward the spear-holder. “Three day’s hard walk from the city and we never went closer, but they said we were in city limits. They wanted to take half of us to the city then and there. No chance to leave, no bargain to strike.” I leaned into the words as I pointed at Eduardo. “He chased them off.”
The spear-holder let out a low whistle. “Nice trick, Harmonizer.” They lowered their fishing spear toward Eduardo’s chest. “Take in a kid so we let our guard down—”
Eduardo gripped the shaft below the blade and silently snapped off the top. He stood and tossed aside the head so it stuck in the dirt. “I’ve seen your community before. You’re following the river to trade in the city before wintering on the beaches.”
Two people stepped from the shade of a willow tree. One wore a camouflaged helmet, a paddle angled over their shoulder. The smooth handle gleamed in the morning light. “That’s the course I’m scouting, Eduardo.” The second person signed the other’s words.
“Then I request we ride with you.” He motioned to the boats. “We’ve already delayed your morning start, and we can tell our stories along the riverway.”
The spear-holder growled something, but the other spoke over them. “We do not deny hospitality. Not on this river.” They shot a look at the spear-holder.
The boats surrounding us rolled onto their hulls, and the paddles lowered. The river people stretched and seemed to shake off the tension that had hovered over us as we pretended to sleep. I took a breath and smiled at Eduardo, but care still streaked his thin face. He swayed, and I gripped his arm. He tensed but didn’t pull away.
“Should we be going closer to the city?”
He shook his head. “I need to rest. I can’t ride again.” He pointed at a willow tree by the bank, and I helped him under the branches.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m just tired.” He braced against the trunk and slid to the ground. “Besides, you need time. You can’t convince them on the strength of your voice alone.” He sighed, and his face relaxed. “At least, not yet.”
A dozen boats lined the bank, mostly wooden canoes and kayaks, but they fanned out around a log raft. The captain shouted for a canoe to make room for us. The spear-holder tossed two packs from their canoe onto the raft and called out that they’d take us.
The captain, I’d gathered her name was Brook, motioned with her paddle to the spear-holder. “You’re with Brand. While you’re in his boat, you listen to him.”
I crouched next to Eduardo. “Should I ask to go with someone else?”
“If you can change his mind, then the rest of the community will believe us. He wants to protect his family, so he’s doing what he thinks is right. Just like your Granmum.”
Brand called us over.
“Don’t help me,” Eduardo said. He rocked to his feet, and I followed. “Will Brother be all right?”
“Oh, yeah, he’ll follow us if he wants, or he might go back to Granmum and Grandmother.” Sometimes, Brother came with me if I went on a short trip with Octavia or Uncle Miguel, but he had his own sense about when and where he wanted to go.
Brand nosed the canoe so the river just lapped the front. “I’m Firebrand. Brand for short.” He tried to smile, grimacing instead. “Either of you been in a boat before?”
Eduardo nodded, but I shook my head.
“You swim?” Brand asked me.
“Well enough.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and guided me into the center. “Just don’t flail about and you’ll be fine. River’s calm for now, so we’ll just be drifting. Nothing to stir us up.”
Eduardo and I sat in the middle while Brand waded into the shallows. The translator from earlier pushed the tail. They swung in, the canoe barley wobbling, but I gripped the edges.
“This is Jyre,” Brand said. “She’ll pass along our conversation.”
Eduardo sagged into the bottom of the canoe. He shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. Scars criss-crossed his skin, some almost like the indentions of claws or fingers. He tugged off the scarf hiding the scabs around his neck. The burn-like marks he’d received while protecting my family still glared red. He spread his arms over the side of the boat, dangling in the water. He almost looked peaceful with his head tilted toward the weak sun. His graying hair and thin frame tucked into the canoe’s bottom seemed mismatched with the Harmonizer who twice chased off others, outnumbered.
Now, it was my turn. Brand was my task to convince. With a few backpaddles, he kept the canoe in place while the other boats flowed ahead. The kayaks darted between the canoes and the main raft like minnows, settling at the perimeters. The captain, Brook, took point and another kayak, its pale wood dulled with river muck, slid behind us. The last kayaker waved a paddle, and Brand let the canoe drift with the rest of the boats.
I’d walked along the river before, but boating felt different. The river swayed and pulled, like when Brother and I rode together, but any time I moved my shoulders, the canoe wobbled. I gripped the side. The river’s coolness seeped over the edges, and I tucked my coat closer.
Brand straddled the narrow seat with the paddle balanced on his knees. “Did you kill our willow tree, Harmonizer?”
Eduardo cracked open one eye. “It’s not your tree.”
“We camp under it every time we come this way.”
“Doesn’t make it yours,” I said. “My family doesn’t call the winter cave ours. We just use it.”
Brand’s shoulders hunched. “I said, did you kill it?”
“It had deadwood high in the crown and rot in one of the limbs. I cleared that away. It should survive more winters, now.”
In the back, Jyre signed the conversation, her arms resting off to the side. The canoe ahead of us held three people, one person repeating the signs, and onward. Most of the boats had two people, even the kayaks linking up so one could watch through glinting binoculars. Ah, that’s what Brand meant by “pass along.” It made more sense than hollering over the river’s rumble.
Brand nodded at me. “If you’re not afraid of him, then why do you care if the city expands?”
“I’m not afraid of the city, either. The area around the cave can support fifty people. That’s what our records have said for decades. If the city expands, then that place will be gone.”
Brand guided the canoe around a downed pine tree. “Such is the way of the river. It rises, it falls. The city expands this century; it retreats in another.”
He wasn’t wrong. My family had similar sayings—the path comes, the path goes. Things changed, and to hold on too tight only hurt, but this felt wrong. The smell of the vehicle, trying to take half of us away. Dread had stalked ahead of those Harmonizers.
I adjusted on the narrow seat, trying to look as loose as Brand, but the canoe’s quiver as we floated down the center channel made me grip one side. I couldn’t relax like Eduardo. “They came in vehicles, and they smelled, like when you come to a bad stretch of water.”
“Gas-powered,” Eduardo said.
Brand tilted his head. “Those things died ages ago. You can still find them rusting on the banks or stuck in the muck.”
“It smelled bad, like a warning. And so loud, like stepping in a hornet nest.” Uncle Miguel could mimic the noise, but it would sound silly coming from me, some instinct said. Silly would be right for later, after all this was behind us, and we remembered what brought us together. I pitched my voice lower. “They wanted to take half of us. Right there. Even though they must have known that area could support fifty, and there was only a handful of us.” I dipped my hand over the canoe’s side, my fingers skimming the cold water, clear enough to see the stones along the bottom, the shimmer of a fish. “We live careful and close with the land. We never stay long so the land can rest after our feet and fires. We repair when we find damage from the old times. We live in balance, but they didn’t care about that. They just wanted half for the city.”
Brand leaned forward. “Then why do you trust this one? You just said Harmonizers twist the truth.”
“Because he fought them off.” I wish I could stand in the boat, but I just leaned in to match Brand. “Just like in the old stories, they were so tall and frost-white. Even though they were a head taller than him, he chased them away. And—”
“And let me guess.” He smoothed his beard. “You let him take strength from you as reciprocity, just like the stories say.”
I grit my teeth. “I’ve told you. He didn’t do that.”
Jyre, the translator, spoke up. “Brand, let the kid tell the story.”
He grunted and twisted around to paddle a few strokes.
“He came to warn us. He’s been circling the city, warning anyone who can leave that the city is coming, and he was almost dead because of it.”
Brand snorted. “Of course, that’s why he takes in a kid. Can’t you see it? He’s using you. You aren’t that naïve.” He nudged Eduardo’s knee with the handle of his paddle. “What do you have to say, Harmonizer? You got your kid spewing your story, but we aren’t children. We deal with your kind each year. I know. I’ve paid the price for entering the city limits.”
I took a breath, but Eduardo motioned for me to stay quiet. “Rowan helped me when others of my kind tried to kill me.” He trailed a finger across the scabs circling his throat. “But you’re right. I am dangerous, but I help the land thrive. That’s what—what did you used to call them? Apex predators. That’s what those predators did. Wolves. Bears. Tigers. Soul-eaters. We balance. Or, we were meant to. When things worked together.”
Brand looked toward the forested bank. Ivy had reclaimed a collection of mortared stones and rusted metal. “Humans didn’t.”
“Some did. Your history is long and much was rubbed away. What caused this was such a tiny sliver.” Eduardo took a deep breath and rested his head along one shoulder. “Let it go, Rowan. He isn’t listening.”
Brand cut the paddle deep into the river. He grumbled that he was listening, but the river shushed him.
Jyre touched my shoulder. “How many days since you left your family?”
