A tear rolls down my cheek and I’m grateful that she’s facing forward and can’t see it. Wiping my cheek angrily on my shoulder, I force myself to stop before I start crying in earnest.
From what she’s told me, her life had been lonely. Having money doesn’t necessarily bring happiness, and her family is a perfect example of that. As a silver band living in The Hills, her closest friends were her nannies and she was spoilt, wanting for nothing. Her parents were barely involved in raising her; a distant mother and a drunk father, who immediately disowned her when she received her band. She was ‘bad for business’. Young for her age, she was suddenly alone on the streets for over a week and during that time trusted the wrong people. I was the one to find her broken and bleeding in an alley. She never told me exactly what happened, but from her injuries, I was able to guess. I brought her back to my home that day, and she’s stayed ever since.
“You are the most important part of my life,” I tell her, having to clear my throat twice to get the words out. “I love you, little sis.”
We’re not related, but blood doesn’t make family, we have proven that.
Twisting, she looks up at me and smiles widely. “Love you too, big sis.”
Heart feeling warm and fuller than it has been in a long time, I smile back and her gesture for her to face forward once more.
“Keep still, or you’ll ruin my hard work,” I scold lightly but I don’t mean it. She knows it too and giggles, doing as she’s told. Honestly, I don’t care if I have to start the braid again, the most important thing being that she’s safe, and I’ll do everything to keep it that way.
Four
Wrapping the black headscarf and veil around me, I make sure that none of my curly hair escapes. After my little race through the city last week, I need to be careful. If they were to discover who I actually was, it would change everything. Everyone knows of the pink, curly haired sullied girl, and all it would take is for my veil to slip. Compared to the thick, dark hair most of the citizens of Rune are born with, I stand out.
Staring at the figure in the cracked, dirty mirror, I hardly recognise myself. My almond shaped eyes are framed by the black fabric of the veil, making the blue of my iris’ practically gleam. It’s not my appearance that makes me take a second look though, but the slump of my shoulders and almost permanent frown etched onto my face. The look fits with the character I’m playing, but when did the act become a part of my everyday life?
Life in Rune is hard, and for one of the sullied, it’s almost impossible. However, Ella and I have survived this far, we have proven that itispossible. Not only that, but that joy canbe found. That is something I have been feeling less and less recently, and today is no different.
Something is coming. I don’t know what, or when, but when it does, it’s going to cause trouble. There is an energy in the air that I don’t like, almost like the static feeling you get before a thunderstorm. It’s been building for a few days now and I’ve been putting off going on a supplies run because of it. However, we are completely out of food and almost out of water. We can live on little food, but without water we wouldn’t survive. This trip cannot be left any longer.
Leaning up against the bottom of the mirror is a broken shard of the glass which I stare at, indecision making me waver. I keep it here in case I ever need to defend our home, but thankfully I have never needed to use it. It’s not large, fitting comfortably in my palm, with one edge sharp and jagged. If anyone was to be stabbed by this, it would cause considerable damage. Taking a weapon out with me feels very deliberate, like I’m planning on using it, which is not that case. I might be sullied but I am not a murderer. There is no evidence to show that anything is going to happen today, just a feeling from deep inside, my instincts on hyper alert.
There is more at stake than just my life here. I release a long breath and pick up the cold shard of glass. Not letting myself debate my decision, I slip it into the pocket of my tunic.
“I’m coming with you.”
Ella’s voice cuts through my thoughts and makes me realise just how quiet it had been in the room. Did she see me taking the weapon? Glancing over, my suspicions are confirmed as her gaze is locked onto my pocket.
Her hands are on her hips and her lips pursed in a stubborn expression, even though I can see how much the idea of leaving frightens her. Her lower lip trembles slightly despite her best effort to keep it straight.
“You are always telling me I need to get out more. To learn how to look after myself.” Her voice cracks a little as she attempts to justify herself. It’s all a façade. Other than her own fears, she has always been vehemently against the idea of leaving to train as we both know that if she ever did need to look after herself, it would be because I was dead.
“Ella, not today.” Even the thought of her with me makes me sick to my stomach, my palms sweaty and a cold shudder passing down my spine. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
I wish I could explain it but I struggle to put the feeling into words. My soul seems to know something that I don’t, whether its intuition or a sign from the gods, and it’s screaming at me that danger is approaching. Unfortunately Ella seems to understand and turns my words right back at me.
“Then you shouldn’t go!”
Gritting my teeth, I brush past her to my sleeping area and grab the small pouch that I strap to my belt. “We’re almost out of water and we have no food. I have to go.”
It’s easier not to look at her as I prepare myself. My mind needs to be completely focused and if I’m worrying about Ella that’s not going to happen. Besides, I struggle to say not to her when she’s staring into my face.
Mirroring my movements, she walks to her pile of blankets and searches for a headscarf to wear. “They are looking for a widow. They will stop you, but if you have a child with you, they will be less likely to stop you.”
Annoyance makes me grit my teeth. Not because she’s frustrating me, but because she’s right. Ella is small enough to pass as a child, especially when she covers her hair. The few times we have left together, this is the guise we would use, her holding my hand as I lead her through the city. It the guards saw me with a child, it would at least make them pause long enough to let us get away.
A lump forms in the back of my throat and I swallow several times to shift it. “If anything happens, it will be more difficult to get away if I’m worrying about you too.” I snap, my arms gesturing wide with my growing emotion. “You don’t know the streets like I do.”
It’s harsh, but I need her to understand. Really, I don’t care about the risk to myself, I’m just terrified she will get hurt. Unfortunately, my sharp words seem to be doing the opposite.
Tilting her head to one side, she plants her hands on her hips once more. “Then it is time I learnt. I’m coming.”
This is a colossally bad idea but she leaves no room for argument. If I leave her behind, she will only follow me. She might be a shy, quiet whisp of a girl, but occasionally I see these little stubborn sparks of who she could have been if life hadn’t treated her so harshly.
Letting my head fall back I let out a long-suffering groan, staring up at the cracked ceiling.
