I chose him and he chose me. It’s what I want to say, but I know how it’ll sound. Like I’m just some lovestruck Youngling. The other girls’ll laugh and Teacher’ll come down hard on me. Not today. “Thank you, Teacher,” I say.
Lara giggles.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Call. Those two words pierce my skull the moment I open my eyes and am blinded by a bright sliver of sunlight. No going back.
I peer out the window, surprised to see the deep red, cloudless sky, and brilliant orange sun emerging from the horizon. It’s been raining for two days straight, which is normal for this time of year, but for some reason it’s decided to stop for such an important moment in my life.
There’s a shout from outside, but I roll over, pull my tugskin blanket over my ears. It’s the last morning I’ll wake up alone. At least until I hafta share my Call with my first Call-Sister. Or perhaps I’ll be the first Call-Sister for someone else, which means I’ll hafta share my Call right away. That wouldn’t be so bad, not with a guy who’s not Circ. Less pressure on me that way.
The door explodes open and I hear heavy boots stomp across the floor. Father. No one else can walk so angrily. “Siena, pretending to sleep won’t work. You’re going to tell me what you know about Lara immediately.”
Lara? Since when does my father even know who Lara is? He’s never said a word ’bout her ’fore. Oh sun goddess! I think. He’s found out ’bout the things she’s been saying to me. About there being another way. ’Bout missing the Call. ’Bout the Wilds.
I roll over, feign ignorance. “Who’s Lara?” I ask. He grabs me by the arm, his fingers pressing hard into my skin. “Oww! Father, it’s my Call today. Please.”
That works and he let’s go, backs up a step. “Don’t play dumb with me, Youngling,” he barks.
“I’m not a Youngling anymore!” I shout, hoping that matching his anger’ll get rid of him.
“You are until tonight,” he retorts. “Lara’s missing, and I want to know exactly what you know about it.”
~~~
I’m still in shock over the whole thing. Lara’s missing? What? It’s crazy. All this time I thought she was full of hot air, all talk, overcompensating for a future she couldn’t control. But now she’s on the verge of doing exactly what she said she’d do for many full moons: miss the Call. And she’s not the only one missing. There’re a bunch of other Pre-Bearers gone, too.
I didn’t tell my father a searin’ thing. Well, actually, I did, but none of it had a lick of truth. I told him she’s been trying to make friends with me, always bothering me, telling me wooloo things. Well, day ’fore last, she told me she was fixing to run off to ice country just ’fore her Call. Father, I swear I thought it was a bunch of tugblaze or I woulda told you. Please believe me, Father, please!
He bought the whole thing, which is why I’m smiling now. He wasn’t too happy that I hadn’t told him earlier, but he didn’t give me too much trouble over it ’cause I was so cut up about the whole thing. I don’t really know what happened to her, but she seemed to think the Wilds would kidnap her, and maybe that’s exactly what happened. Just like with Skye.
So I’m smiling and humming along to myself as I walk back from my last session of Call Class. I mightn’t be able to get out of it, but I’m glad Lara did. When I reach our hut, my smile vanishes.
There’s one scorch of a commotion outside of our place. A huddle of Greynotes speak in hushed tones. MedMa has his arm on my father’s shoulder and is shaking his head and speaking softly. I ignore them all, push past, make my way to the door.
My father sees me. “Siena, don’t,” he says, but I ignore him, fling open the door.
Evidence of the Fire is everywhere. It’s in the wet towels in the wash basin, in the lingering scent of MedMa’s healing herbs, in the abject silence that seems to surround the room. And ’specially on my mother’s face, which is sheened with sweat, red and white and yellow, sharpened with pain. Her expression is contorted even now, as she tries to smile at me and sit up in bed. “Siena,” she murmurs, her loudest voice but a whisper.
“No, Mother. No.” Tears well up. I won’t go to her. Can’t. If I do it’ll make it real. The Fire. Come into our home to take the last person I have.
“Shhh,” she whispers. “Come to me.”
“No…no.” Tears in streaks on my cheeks. Numbness all over. Where are you, sun goddess?
“It’s going to be fine,” my mother says, a stronger woman’n I’ll ever be.
I keep my distance even though I know the Fire ain’t catching. “Nothing’s fine,” I say.
A shadow splashes me from behind. I don’t turn ’round. “Leave us, Roan,” my mother commands. For once in his life, my father obeys my mother, closes the door softly.
“I can’t do this,” I say, talking ’bout my mother and the Call in one breath.
“You can,” she says, extending an arm. An invitation.
Although I don’t wanna, I move closer. Closer. Sit on the edge of the bed. Hold her hand, which doesn’t hold back. There’s already no strength left in it. “So fast,” I say, watching a tear drip off my chin and onto her arm.
“I’ve felt it coming for a while now,” she says. “But yes, this Fire is faster than most. Mercifully fast.”
“But I’m not ready.” Once more I’m talking ’bout her and the Call. Funny how those two things seem so inexplicably linked now, when ’fore they were nothing alike.
She laughs but it comes out as a cough. I calm her with a hand on her forehead. The heat is pouring out of her skin like there really is fire in there. There is, I remember. The Fire to end all fires.
I leave her side for a moment, ring out a wet towel in the wash basin, return to her. Dab her face with the towel, wiping away the tears that’ve begun to spring up. “I’ve never done right by you, Siena,” she says, sadness in her eyes.
“No, Mother, don’t say that. You’ve done right by me. Life is just hard sometimes. Father is hard.”
“No excuse,” she says. “I’m going to make it right before I go. I have to make it right.”
“You don’t hafta do anything,” I say. “Just rest, Mother. Just rest.”
~~~
Jade. Skye. Circ. Lara, earlier today. And now my mother, soon to follow, maybe as soon as three or four days ’cause of how fast-acting her Fire is. It feels like everyone that matters to me is gone. Taken for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
It’s time. Like my sister did not so long ago, I put on my white dress. There’s no one to help me ’cause Sari hates me and mother’s too tired to stand. She watches though, her eyes keen with interest. “You look beautiful,” she says when I finish.
“Skye was more beautiful,” I remember.
“In my eyes, you two will always be the prettiest girls in all of fire country,” she says.
I cast my eyes downward. “Will you be able to come to the Call?” I ask, already knowing her answer.
“Siena, I’m too weak. Far too weak. But I’ll be there in here.” She points to her heart. “And here,” she adds, pointing to my hair. I frown in confusion. “In your hair, silly. I want to fix your hair just right.”
Tears bubble up but I blink them away. I sit on the ground, not caring if my dress gets durty. It’s the only way my mother’ll be able to reach me.
She hasn’t braided my hair in years, but as soon as her fingers slide along my scalp the memories come flooding back. My sister and me sitting side by side as my mother worked on our hair, poking at each other and giggling. Her expert fingers feel the same now, where I can’t see them, almost as if there’s nothing wrong with her at all. As if nothing’s changed.