Ashes of Twilight (16 page)

“What did he say?”

“He wanted to know about Alex. If I knew him. What he said to me.” I shrug. I had not lied. I hadn’t been forthcoming either. My secrets are piling up around me since I am now responsible for Pace’s life, along with my own. I can’t trust James and therefore can’t trust the council. I can’t even trust my grandfather because he will surely forfeit Pace’s life for mine.

The only person I can trust is Pace. He placed his trust in me, even though he knew he had to face his greatest fear. Or was it just the lesser of two fears? His fear of being burned alive has to be greater than his fear of being closed in. What would I chose if given a choice? To jump into the pit or burn alive? I pray I never find out.

“Why did the filchers come below?” Mary asks.

“Ask the ones who killed them,” I say. “I had no knowledge of them until I was told by my grandfather.”

“Elias?” Mary turns to my grandfather.

“She was in her bed sleeping,” he says.

James leans down and whispers in Adam’s ear. “And before that?” Adam asks.

“I swam with the glow fish.” Not a lie but I tread on a very thin line. If anyone from the village saw me, then they would see that my hair was wet, along with my clothes. I could only pray that they wouldn’t ask if I brought Pace below. Perhaps they didn’t think that I would dare.

“What’s done is done.” My grandfather, thankfully, changes the subject from me. “It doesn’t matter why so much as that the filchers dared to come below. There will be more. We must have a plan in place.”

“A plan that will let them know that they cannot trespass,” Frank says.

“You should not have disposed of the bodies.” The look on Mary’s face is vicious. “We could have sent them back as a warning.”

“No,” my grandfather says wisely. “Let them wonder and worry. If we send back dead bodies then it’s a challenge. As of now it’s only filchers. They are testing us.” The council nods in agreement so he continues. “We should post guards. Not at the entrances but at the cross tunnels. Let any who come below
fall
into the pit. Then if the bluecoats come knocking, we can show them how dangerous it is for anyone not familiar with the tunnels. It will serve as a warning to them also.”

It will also make it difficult for me to get to Pace. Difficult, but not impossible.

“Let it be done,” Jasper says and the council gives their assent. “Each shift will post guards.”

“But that will slow down the coal production,” Rosalyn protests.

Jasper shrugs. “Let them see what they will suffer if they challenge us.”

“It can go both ways,” Rosalyn warns. “They control the food.”

“We will make do.” Jasper sounds confident. “We must conserve.”

Jasper continues. “No one is to go above.” His eyes are on me as he gives the ruling. “Until the boy is caught. He can’t hide forever. Eventually they will find him.”

A shiver runs down my spine. How long do I have before my lies catch up with me?

12

My grandfather doesn’t want
to leave my side. I don’t know if it’s worry that there will be some backlash from someone about the filchers coming below, or just the fact that he feels as if he’s neglected me lately. He makes sure I have a proper meal before my shift, packs my lunch pail, and walks me to the stables. I have no opportunity to sneak off and check on Pace.

The ponies sense my distress. They are restless and push at me with their heads as I harness them to the carts. The chickens scatter and flap their useless wings as I start the first group down the tunnel to the work site. The miners aren’t much better. Their workload is heavier because part of the shift is on guard duty. The ones that speak to me are curt and the rest glare at me as if I personally invited the filchers down.

I guess in a way I did. I know in a way it is my fault that they came below, but I also have to wonder, if it had been James, Adam, or even Peggy with Alex at the end, would their hostility be as evident or even be there at all? All my life I’ve borne the stigma of my unknown father’s blood.

How much of this have I brought on myself and how much is due to my mother’s own rebellion I’ll never know, as much of my mother’s life is a mystery to me. All I know is that she went above, got caught trespassing where she shouldn’t have, was sentenced to service, and finally came back home hugely pregnant with me. She died without naming my father. It could be any man who lives above.

Any man but Pace’s father, as he died before Pace was born. For some reason that gives me a sense of relief.

I can’t help thinking about Pace as I trek back and forth from the stables, into the mines, and back to the tipplers with the ponies. In my mind I go over different places to hide him, places where we can easily get by the guards. Then I alternate between panic and frustration as I wonder if he’s still where I left him. He’ll need blankets and someplace where he can have light and I have no way of getting either to him today. I do grab a filament from the supplies in the barn for the lamp, just in case.

Finally, after what seems like days instead of hours, my shift ends. I feel the light calling to me as I take the ponies back to the stable. My body yearns for it as if I have an unquenchable thirst. I never realized how much I craved the light until I find that it is impossible for me to see it.

I force myself to take my time with the ponies. I don’t need any unwanted attention on me. I can’t risk anyone following me. Their gratitude, as usual, warms me. I can’t help but laugh as the white one I call Ghost blows bubbles in the trough.

I put them in their stalls and start to give them an extra portion of feed, but then I stop. Jasper’s words of warning ring in my ears. We must conserve everything and that includes feed for the ponies. I would rather go hungry than see them starve because of me. And hungry I am. I didn’t eat my lunch. I saved it for Pace.

Pace …
It’s been twenty hours more or less since I left him. I’ve got to get to him. I leave the barn and look around. I let go a sigh of relief when I see that I am alone. The day-shift ponies have already gone down into the mines and the workers have moved on to their homes. I know guards are stationed at the lifts and all cross tunnels close to our escape hatches. I’ve got to get to Pace without anyone seeing me.

Luckily the two ways in and two ways out holds true for every tunnel and cave. I make my way to the oldest part of the mine by following that rule. I take the tunnels until I’m close to a cross point, then I duck into the closest cave and go out the other way.

Eventually I come out on a ledge high above the main branch of the underground river. It runs fast and hard here, tons of water rushing nearly one hundred feet below me. To fall in would be instant death either by being smashed against the rocks that have fallen from below the ledge or drowning when swept beneath the cave walls. I wasn’t able to find a lantern so I’m careful, swallowing my fear and keeping my eyes on the ledge before me as I make my way down to a short tunnel that leads me close to the pool we swam in the night before.

From there I hurry on. There shouldn’t be anyone in these tunnels, only stationed farther up, where we came in, and farther down, closer to our homes. The guards would have had to go by when they were dispatched to their shifts. I’m certain if Pace was discovered I would have heard about it by now, unless something happened since my shift ended. I can only hope and pray that I’ll find him where I left him.

I stop outside the cavern and whistle. I hear a slight noise, a shifting of his body? “Pace?” I whisper.

“Wren?” His voice is a desperate call in the darkness.

“It’s me,” I whisper as I come in. He’s in the same corner I left him in, curled around the canary’s cage as if he’s trying to draw some comfort from it. He slowly unfolds until he’s sitting up. The canary flits about in its cage and pipes a curious note.

Pace’s face is ghastly pale. He blinks, desperate to see something, anything. I kneel down beside him and touch his knee. He grabs my wrist and squeezes it.

“Wren?”

“Yes.” His hand slides up my arm and he shifts to his knees. He’s so cold that I feel his chill through my clothes. He finds my shoulder and I catch my breath as his hand moves to my cheek and around to the back of my head. His fingers move into my hair until his hand cups my head. He leans forward, so very slowly, until his forehead touches mine. He puts his other hand on my shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh.

“Am I dreaming?” His voice is the barest whisper. I see the shadow of his eyes, searching to see.

My hands creep up of their own volition and I cradle his face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get away…”

He shakes his head, back and forth, saying no to something but I have no idea what it could be. Suddenly he pulls me against him, pinning my body against his so that we touch from our bent knees to our chilled cheeks. I flatten against him, feeling all the hard planes of his chest and hips and his damp clothes all the way through to my skin. His arms shake against my back. His chill fills me and I wrap my arms around his neck in an attempt to share my warmth. He buries his face against my neck and his entire body shudders.

I’ve never felt anything like this. It is powerful and humbling, exciting and scary. Is it just because he was frightened and lonely? Is it just because I’m here and he would act the same with anyone, or is it genuinely because it is me? I’m scared to find out.

Pace moves his head. I feel his cheek against mine, and then the ridge of his nose as it moves across my cheek. He finds my lips with his and he kisses me. His hand moves from my back to my face and he holds me, oh so very gently, as his lips move over mine. A spark of warmth ignites in our kiss. I feel it spreading through me, like air. It fills my mouth and my lungs and moves throughout my body, until I can feel it running through my veins. It’s everywhere yet it’s centered between us. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before, anticipation and a sense of rightness mixed together. This can’t be happening. Can it? Am I imagining this?

Finally, regretfully, he breaks the kiss, and leans his forehead against mine once more. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.” His voice is the merest whisper, impossible to hear if we hadn’t been so close.

I’m strangely disappointed. What did I expect him to say? “No … so much has happened. I couldn’t get away.” I make excuses to fill the absence of his kiss. “And I had to work. I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious.”

“How long have I been down here?”

“Not quite a day.”

“It felt like forever. I’m so cold. I can’t remember what it’s like to feel warm.”

“I know. I’m sorry…” Why do I keep apologizing? I’m babbling and he’s freezing and starving and scared. “I brought you some food.” I offer up my pail and realize he can’t see it.

“Food is good,” he says when I finally place it in his lap. “How about some light?”

“There’re guards posted. We can’t risk it … unless…” I look at the escape route. “Which is worse? The dark or closed-in spaces?”

“Does the closed-in space have light?”

“Yes, but it will be tight.”

“I need light. Just to make sure I’m alive. To make sure I’m not blind.” His whisper has the same dry humor of his regular voice in spite of the chattering of his teeth.

I pick up the lamp. “Stay here until I tell you to come.”

“And here I was planning a long stroll on the promenade.”

I could only roll my eyes at his humor. To laugh would make too much noise. I hoist myself into the escape tunnel and crawl forward to the space where you have to stand to get out. I take off my jacket and spread it over the top of the hole, so no light can escape, then sit and replace the filament in the lamp. A few strikes of the flint and a warm glow fills the tiny space.

“Come to the light.” I hold it above my head so it doesn’t shine as bright in the cave. Someone would have to come in to see it.

“Thank God,” I hear his whisper.

To my surprise Pace shoves the canary cage in first and follows with my lunch pail. I wasn’t counting on the cage. I knew we’d be crowded but I also knew he needed the light, just for a while. It must be horrible to think you’ve gone blind, no matter what his humor shows. Pace crawls in after the pail with a huge smile on his face and one hand shading his eyes from the lamp.

“Put your back to the entrance so it will block the light,” I instruct. He does, settling into the opening. I knew he was broad enough to cover it. He sits back with his knees up and his legs splayed. It leaves enough room for me to sit between his knees, cross-legged with the canary cage on my lap and the lamp by my side. I turn it down as low as it will go. I am fairly certain we will be safe for a while, as long as we are quiet. Sound doesn’t carry far down here. There are too many nooks and crannies for it to get lost in.

His eye has turned black and blue from the fight and the cut on his forehead is healing. Thank God his injuries weren’t any worse. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d broken something.

“How is your shoulder?” I ask.

“Fine. Once it’s back in the joint it takes care of itself.”

“I didn’t even think about it when you were fighting.”

“Fighting for your life kind of makes the injuries unimportant.”

“I still can’t believe I did that.”

“I’m glad you did. If not I definitely wouldn’t be cold now.”

“I’ll try to bring you a blanket next time.”

“Don’t do anything that will get you in trouble.”

“I’m already so far in that a blanket’s not going to make much difference.”

He grins. He has a beautiful smile. The kind that makes you feel it, on the inside. Like it’s a gift.

Pace sticks his finger in the cage. “This is Pip,” he says. “We’re friends now, despite the fact that he’s not covered with fur and therefore of no use in keeping me warm.” He opens my lunch pail and bites into the sandwich with a happy sigh. He breaks off some crumbs and drops them in Pip’s cage as he chews. “We shared our life stories while you were gone.” Pace takes another bite and pokes in the pail to see what else is inside.