Ashes of Twilight (19 page)

Cats come out of the nooks and crannies as we walk up the steps. I see Lucy’s mother watching us. Lucy waves to her, an assurance that she’ll be there soon. I see Alex’s mother also, her eyes on both Lucy and me as if we were the ones who murdered Alex. I have yet to talk to her. I’ve yet to tell her the whole story. I don’t know if it will make things better or worse so for now I leave it alone.

Lucy looks around my home while I eat. I’m starving yet I know it’s much worse for Pace. My not eating won’t help him at this moment and thanks to Lucy I have food to take him. Still, it will be a long time until tomorrow morning. She sits down after I slow down and take the time to chew the stew my grandfather prepared.

“Do you have a plan?” she asks.

“Beyond keeping Pace alive? No.”

“Do you think there’s a way out of this?”

“If so I’ve yet to find it,” I confess. “He thinks I should turn him in so no one else will suffer.”

“They’ll kill him.”

“Yes.”

“And you too for the things they think you might know.”

I nod. It’s nothing I haven’t already thought of. “Neither of us is worth the lives of everyone else. If they find a way below. If they bring weapons … I’ll have to surrender him.”

“Will you be able to?”

“It’s not about being able to. It’s about doing what I have to do.”

Lucy smiles. “I’ve always envied you.”

I nearly choke on my milk. “Me? Why?”

“You were always so independent. You went your own way and did what you wanted no matter what anyone thought.”

“I was independent because everyone hated me for what my mother did. I had to be.”

“No one hated you. Oh sure, some might now because of the trouble. It’s just that you were different in the way you thought and acted. You didn’t fall into your assigned role. You thumbed your nose at everyone.”

My mouth drops open in shock.

“It’s because of you that I went above to work. It’s because of you that I found the courage to try for something more.” Lucy reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You inspired me, Wren. I just wanted you to know that in case the worst happens.”

I don’t know what to say. Words fail me. Lucy stands, gives me a quick hug, and leaves. I sit in silence as she goes, dumbfounded by her words.

And then it hits me. It
is
my fault Alex is dead. Because of me Lucy chose to go above, and because of me she met David and rejected Alex.

How many more people will die because of me?

15

As I expected,
it is impossible for me to get away to see Pace before my shift. I’d left my lunch pail at the stables so my grandfather packs both our lunches in his and walks me to work.

“I know this has been hard on you,” he says after we leave the village. “Seeing Alex that way and all…” his voice trails off. “I’ve seen men broken over less.” He doesn’t speak for a moment, just clears his throat and looks away. What is he remembering? My grandfather never talks about the past, nor has he told me stories of his youth. He always lives in the present, no matter what the occasion, as if the past is too painful to recall.

He never gossips and never speaks of anyone unless he knows it to be the truth, which means he doesn’t talk much at all. His words are measured and weighed so when they come I consider them carefully because I know they cost him dearly. But there are times, when he drinks the liquor that is brewed deep in a long-exhausted cave, when he speaks of things I don’t understand and curls up in his bed and weeps with regret.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, something else he rarely does. He’s never been demonstrative in his affection yet I’ve never doubted his love for me.

“I just want you to know I’m proud of you. Of the woman you’ve become.” Once more he clears his throat of the emotion that gathers there. “I know I don’t say it enough.” He laughs, once, a sharp bark that’s rarely used. “I reckon I’ve never said it at all.”

The words and his random attempt at affection should warm me. Instead they fill me with a horrible sense of guilt. The first time in my life he tells me he’s proud of me and I’m lying to him.

“Don’t you let them down there scare you with their talk,” he continues. “Nothing that’s happened is your fault. It could have been any one of them with Alex when he died.” We continue on, him assuring me that everything is fine and me knowing that everything that’s happened is my fault since the moment Lucy told Alex she didn’t want him. I don’t know what to say. I can’t find the words that will take us back to the way things were before. So I walk with him and listen and fight back the tears of my shame until we come to the stable.

My pail is right where I left it, on the barrel next to the orange cat who seemingly hasn’t twitched a whisker since I left. My grandfather packs my lunch into it carefully and turns to go. “I’m working guard duty tonight. Tunnel twenty-three.”

I nod. Twenty-three is the cross tunnel where I came down the day Pace chased me. It’s the one escape hatch the bluecoats know about. Even though it has been nailed shut it is still a risk because they know where it is and where it leads.

“I’ll be seeing you in the morning then,” he says and turns away and walks up the tunnel from the stable.

“Wait!” I call out just as he reaches the bend. He turns to look at me. His hair is wild around his face and his goggles hang haphazardly around his neck. His face is lined and streaked with the coal dust that never seems to go away. I run to him and throw my arms around him. His hands come up as I cling to him and then slowly and tentatively he puts them on my back and awkwardly pats me.

“There, there, gel,” he says. “Everything will work out in the end. You’ll see.”

“I love you,” I cry out. I hold him as tight as I can, as if tight will squeeze out all the lies between us. So there will be no room for them.

He pats me again and clears his throat. “That’s good to know.” He coughs and I feel his lungs laboring within his chest as they fight the coal dust. “I love you too.” His voice is gruff and low, as if he’s afraid someone will hear him. “Now let me go before we get called a couple of slackers.”

I give him one last squeeze and he returns it with one last pat and I let go. I watch him until he fades into the blackness of the tunnel, and then with a sigh I turn and go back to the stables.

*   *   *

Telling my grandfather I love him does not erase the lies between us. It doesn’t do much to make me feel better either. I’d like to think that I said it for his benefit, but I know in my heart that I told him I loved him to alleviate my guilt. I am miserable as I work my shift, agonizing over my choices. The problem is, being honest with my grandfather will result in Pace’s death.

You don’t know that for certain …
My argument with myself continues.
He could surprise you.
I go back and forth with the debate. I cannot find a way to tell my grandfather about Pace without the end result being Pace turned over to the filchers.

If I could just make my grandfather realize that even if we turn over Pace, they’ll still come after me. That after they kill me, they will go after him because of me. That it will continue with the bluecoats killing anyone and everyone who might know their secrets.

The only way to beat them is to make sure everyone knows their secret. And Pace is the only one who truly knows. If only he would tell me where he thinks Alex got out. I’ve got to figure out a way to get outside and bring back proof that there are no flames. I’ve got to convince Pace that it’s the only way he will survive. I’ve got to convince my grandfather that it is a risk worth taking because I know that without his help it will be an impossible task.

Another question haunts me as I try to figure out where and how. Why? Why aren’t we allowed to leave? Is it because they are afraid that once the tide turns to the outside, there will be no one left to care for the royals? Are their lives so much more important than ours? Who has the right to make that decision for those of us who, like Alex, want to go? Who has the right to kill someone, just because they want something different from what has been predetermined for them? It’s something else I will ask Pace, a list of questions that constantly lead to more. I am afraid he doesn’t have the answers either.

My mind continues to chase through the never-ending tunnels of the different scenarios where each conscious decision will lead. I am so distracted that it takes me a long moment to realize that something is terribly wrong when the earth trembles and I am thrown to my knees.

The ponies rear up in their traces and whinny in fear. Luckily the cart had just been dumped so I’m in no danger from falling chunks of coal. I scramble to my feet and grab the halter of the lead pony, which is Ghost. He butts his head against my chest and snuffs at my jacket. My presence calms him. Blue, who shares the traces with Ghost, tosses his head up and down and I quickly place my hand on his nose, which settles him.

Shouts echo off the tunnel walls. The shiners pour forth from the tunnels where they were working. Questions ring out.

“What was it?”

“An explosion of some sort.”

“Methane?”

“An attack?”

“Where?”

As I calm the ponies I suddenly know where and I can also say who. I take off at a run. Ghost and Blue follow me at a fast trot and the coal cart bounces and careens against the tunnel walls as they try to keep up with me. I can’t worry about them now. I have to get to my grandfather.

The tunnels fill with people as I get closer to twenty-three. I see workers from the day shift along with the night. Someone grabs the pony cart and leads them away, back to the stables I can only hope, as I continue on my way. Voices that are raised in questions suddenly go silent as I turn in to the tunnel. Jasper is there, and James, Adam, and Peggy, all half dressed as they were awakened from their sleep and looking as dazed as I feel.

The throng separates as I continue onward. Hands reach for me, much like they did with Alex’s mother. I ignore them. My heart knows what has happened but my mind refuses to acknowledge it until I see it for myself.

Mary is with my grandfather. I walk through the circle that surrounds him. A few hold lamps aloft and I see that there’s been an effort to dig him out. It’s no use. Even I can see that it is too much for men who only have picks and shovels.

“She’s here, Elias,” Mary says. She holds his hand in hers and I can see the strain of his grip. The other arm is beneath him as he is pinned facedown, caught in the cave-in after he rigged the charge.

I can’t help but wonder how many filchers are dead beneath the rubble. How many came down this time in an attempt to find me? How many more will follow? I drop to my knees beside him and Mary places my hand where hers has been.

“Back up, everyone,” she says. “Give them some room. Give them some peace.” I hear the shuffling of their feet as they back away. Someone puts a lamp by my grandfather’s head. I stretch out on my stomach beside him so I can see his face. He turns his head to me.

“Just wasn’t fast enough this time,” he says. “I used to be the fastest one. No matter what.” He coughs, agonizing and harsh, and blood comes up. He makes an effort to spit it out. I wipe it away with his kerchief. No one has to tell me what happened. No one has to tell me that he set the charge because he’d lived the longest and he’d thought his time to die was long past. That he did it so a younger man would have more years with his family. That he made the choice to keep me safe. Those words go unsaid because his time is short.

He uses the last of his strength to pull me closer until we are cheek to cheek and his mouth is by my ear.

“I want you to fight, Wren,” he says so low that only I can hear him. “I know you’ve got that boy hidden. It’s a good thing you’ve done.”

I shake my head and his grip tightens. “I believe in you. I believe you’ll find a way. I believe you’ll fly free, just like the little bird I named you for.” His breath rattles and stops.

I move, twisting my head so I can see his face. His eyes are still open, deep and brown, and staring upward, through the roof of the caves, through the dome, and at the sky beyond it. The shine is gone. Mary comes to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. She pulls me up.

“There, there, child,” she says. “Come with me.”

I wrench away from her hands. They trap me. “No.”

My grandfather is dead. He knew about Pace. He knew I lied. He told me to fight. How can I fight when I don’t know who the enemy is? How can I fight when I don’t know what I’m fighting for?

“No,” I say again. I look at the shiners gathered around. I see the guilt on the faces of the ones who were with him. The ones he saved. I see Peggy, with tears pouring down her face, start toward me and I hold my hand up to stop her. I don’t want to cry. Grandfather told me to fight and fight I must, even against the tears that scream to be let out.

James stands beside Adam. In his hands are my grandfather’s goggles. Why does he have them? Does he think that he will step into his place? That I will go to him because I have no one else? He holds out his arms as if he’s going to hug me. Trap me. I take the goggles from his hand.

“Wren, wait!” Peggy calls after me as I start down the tunnel.

“Let her go,” I hear Jasper say. “Leave her to her grief.”

My grief.

My fight.

I am alone.

16

My route to Pace
takes me by the stables, so I stop to pick up the stash Lucy brought below and stuff my grandfather’s goggles and my lunch pail inside it. Most of my ponies are back and sharing their stalls with the day shift. As usual, the news of my grandfather’s death has already traveled through the mine and others have stepped in to do my job. There will be no more work this night. Instead, they will dig out my grandfather’s body and prepare it for burning.

They will leave me alone with my grief, for which I am grateful. I run through the tunnels as if I’m the only one who exists in our world, and those I pass don’t say a word. They will save them for the funeral tomorrow. I don’t care if anyone sees what I carry, but I do have enough presence of mind to go the back way after I leave the stables, darting into caves and taking the escape routes until I arrive at the river cavern.