Under the Same Sky (31 page)

Joe didn’t come to see me again. But the following day, the world changed again.

I heard the jailer yell out, and scrape his chair across the stone floor.

“What’s all this?” he hollered. “Can’t a man get any sleep in this town? Hey, now what’s all this?”

The door to the outside opened, and a tiny breath of fresh air trickled down the corridor to my cell. The sounds of the street and scattered thoughts from passersby trickled toward me. I heard a girl scream, and the sound was so familiar I jumped to my feet. She screamed again, calling for help, and I recognised my sister’s voice.

“Addy?” I cried.

“Help! Can anyone help me? Please help!” she shouted, and I gripped the bars helplessly.

“I’m a-comin’,” the jailer said. “Hold yer garters on.”

I heard him step out onto the front doorstep, then a thump and a grunt. A fight? What—

Feet whispered down the corridor, and I heard the jingle of keys. I stared in amazement as Soquili charged toward my cell, his eager smile lighting the darkness. I had never been so relieved to see anyone in my entire life. He shoved the key into the lock and turned it. He tried to fling the door open with a certain amount of fanfare, but the ancient hinge only squawked open a few inches. I sidled out and grabbed on to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

“Soquili!” I sobbed. “I thought—”

“Shh,” he said and pried my hands from his waist. He kissed my forehead. “We must go now.”

“I heard Addy—”

“Shh. Do not think of that. Come now.”

I followed him to the door, and was met by a crowd of Cherokee, all blocking the entrance and facing the empty inner circle of the fort’s yard. They seemed content to stand there, apparently in animated conversation with each other. Wahyaw was the only one to look at me, and his smile was huge. At his feet lay my unconscious jailer, completely unaware of the jailbreak. Adelaide ran to me and we held each other for a moment, speechless.

Then she kissed my cheek. “I thought you were gone, Maggie. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Me, too,” I said.

Wahyaw grunted from behind her. “Go. We can talk later. Go now.”

Addy grabbed my hand and pulled me to the edge of the crowd. Everything felt unreal; even the warm dirt beneath my feet felt foreign after the past two months. The sky was an amazing shade of blue, like the beading on Adelaide’s new tunic. She yanked me farther into the sheltering crowd of Indians, and I saw three horses
tethered to a post. Soquili tugged the knots free and tossed me onto one horse. He unpacked a heavy fur from our horse’s pack, then passed it up to me. He climbed up behind me and, though it was a warm day, wrapped the fur around my body, partially covering my face. Soquili tucked one arm around my waist and urged our horse forward. I felt his breath on my neck when he leaned in and spoke in my ear.

“You feel small, Ma-kee,” he said. “We will feed you soon.”

The horses walked sedately through the fort to avoid notice. Wahyaw went first.

“Not too slow,” he muttered over his shoulder. “They will discover you are gone soon. If we can get through here, we will be fine.”

The horse hair was rough but comforting on my calves. The sounds of people talking, of dogs barking and babies crying—every noise pushed the isolation of the cell farther away. I leaned against Soquili’s bare chest and smelled his scent. I never knew anything could smell so good.

Other than the noisy crowd of Cherokee, there was very little movement within the bleak walls of the fort. I supposed in times of battle, this area would swarm with bright red uniforms. But whenever I’d been here, there had been no sign of a regiment, other than the occasional soldier wandering through the grounds or carrying supplies. Occasionally there was a guard or two set up at the other entrance, blocking the archway we now approached, but not very often.

I was hot inside the fur, and it itched terribly, but when I shifted, Soquili tightened his grip.

“Be still,” he said.

The horses’ steps thudded against the earth as we drew closer to the archway. And suddenly my heart began pounding and I broke into a cold sweat.

“We’re not going to make it, Wahyaw. Run!” I said quietly.

Wahyaw nudged his horse into a canter, and we did likewise. But it wasn’t fast enough. I felt it coming, the pressure of pursuit building in my head.

If they caught me again, they would hang all of us.

“Wahyaw—” I said, but was interrupted by a shout somewhere behind us. The fort soon filled with men’s voices, raised in agitation.

Wahyaw kicked his horse hard, and we roared toward the entrance. I leaned around Soquili to see what was happening, and was amazed by the number of soldiers I saw. All this time I had assumed the fort was empty, or nearly so. Now they flooded through every door, guns in hands.

Two guards were stationed at the archway. Even if they hadn’t heard the warning, our mad gallop would have given us away. They aimed muskets directly at us and fired. And missed. We kept running, outpacing the shots that came from behind, thundering past the guards as they tried to refill their muskets. The brothers whooped as we burst from the fort, and pushed the horses toward the relative safety of the trees. No one knew these woods like my Cherokee.

The soldiers weren’t prepared. Their horses still lazed in their stalls. So we went unaccompanied into the woods. But they would come soon. One didn’t need to see into the future to know that.

We rode for an hour, barely speaking. Eventually, as the sun began to set, we slowed and Wahyaw dropped from his horse. He reached up to help Adelaide down, and Soquili did the same for me. Then I stared at them all, and they stared at me. I smiled. Even my smile felt foreign.

“Thank you,” I said.

Adelaide flung herself on me and we started to cry, talking nonsense between sobs. Over her shoulder I saw Soquili smile before he turned away with Wahyaw.

She led me to a log, where we sat and kept talking. I didn’t want to talk about the jail, but couldn’t seem to stop. Except really, there wasn’t much to say. She heard me repeat how cold it was. How dark. How lonely. How sad. But I didn’t mention the absence of the dreams. We’d barely spoken of them before, and I didn’t want to start now. I listened to her talk about the difficulties they’d faced trying to see me. About how Waw-Li had shut herself into her house with the elders and they hadn’t come out for days. About how Wahyaw and Soquili finally lost all patience and broke me out of jail the only way they could.

While we talked, the brothers set up a tarp and laid out furs where we would sleep. They lit a small fire and roasted roots and small birds over it. When the evening was over, Adelaide and I snuggled together under the furs.

The air, the beautiful air, breathed life back into my dreams.

Andrew
, I thought.
Please, Andrew.

He came into focus slowly, as if he had to find his way. When his face appeared, my veins seemed to pulse with liquid fire. How had I existed without him?

“Maggie!” His eyes were shadowed with concern. “Where have ye been? It’s been weeks since—”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“But where were ye? Wha’ happened? I’ve had the worst dreams of late.”

I held my hands up and he took them in his own, intertwining his fingers with mine, warming my hands with his invisible blood.

“Where are you?” I asked. My story was so long, and I knew our time was brief. The dreams were always too short, always ending when I needed him most.

“I’m here. I’m close.” He stepped closer. “Are ye all right,
mo nighean
? Are ye no’ well? Ye’re pale, Maggie. Very pale.”

He caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and I leaned into them. If only I could stay like this forever, safe in his mind.

“Don’t worry about me,” I whispered.

“How can I no’?”

“I have a lot to tell you, but I don’t want to squander this time talking about it. I just want to feel you. You have no idea how badly I’ve needed you, Andrew. I felt empty when I couldn’t dream of you.”

He frowned. “You couldna dream?”

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “For almost two months.”

I was thinking,
Hold me,
but he was there before I could say the words. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight. His tunic was a faded white, stained and smelling of earth and sweat. The wool that was always draped over his shoulder scratched my cheek and I nuzzled into it, wanting to relish every stubborn fibre. His breath was in my hair, warm and delicious. I lifted my chin to kiss him and felt his lips touch mine for a heartbeat before I was shaken awake.

“Ma-kee,” Soquili murmured. “The soldiers have come. We must go.”

It was still very early. The calls of birds were still unpracticed, the odd starling calling for a friend. Adelaide silently rolled up the furs and passed them to Wahyaw, who packed them onto the horses. Soquili hoisted me onto our horse and slid on behind me. We set off into the rough deer paths.

“What’s happening?” I whispered to Soquili. “How did they find us?”

Soquili leaned forward and rested his chin on my shoulder. “They have a scout.”

Our horse lurched over a dip in the path, and we swayed forward with the momentum. Soquili was already warm in the predawn
chill, and he wrapped himself around me. He sighed in my ear, a perfect sound of satisfaction.

“Soquili—” I said.

“Shh,” he replied. “I am only keeping you warm. Never be afraid of me, Ma-kee.”

We rode on and I let myself be cradled against him. I closed my eyes and tried to disappear into the world I had missed so much. I wanted to
feel
again. I set my mind free to travel the trails, and they brought me back the image of Joe.

He was in the forest, too, I realised. He turned and spoke with someone, and I saw a red coat behind him. He was their scout. It made sense. Joe, I knew, would be able to find us. Of anyone, he was the most dangerous. But I understood him now. I had been in his mind and seen the confusion that influenced his thoughts. I had travelled through his past and seen who he was, though he didn’t know himself. I could reach him again.

“Joe,”
I called to his mind.

He stood straight and looked up, his eyes raking the shadowed leaves, hunting for the source.

“You know I’m not there,”
I said.

I felt the fear in him, and understood. Joe had felt me in his mind before, and he knew what I could do.

“Let us go,”
I begged.

His mind flickered with red coats and a sense of responsibility. He had a duty to lead them to us, to see justice done.

“It’s not justice,”
I told him.
“You know it isn’t.”

Thoughts of the white world he had wanted for so long sat heavily on his heart. If he caught us, he would be lauded as a hero among the white people. Or so he thought. If he let us go, he would be nothing to them.

Then his thinking softened. He remembered our moment in the
jail, when our minds had merged. He had had time to reflect on that. He still found it funny that I called him a good man.

“You will prove it to yourself, Onafa,”
I said, and he snorted.

“Did you say something?” Soquili asked, bringing me back to the moment.

“I don’t know,” I said, turning to smile at him. “Did I?”

Wahyaw shot us a look, and we were quiet again. I watched little things scurry through the forest, creatures I might never have seen again if the judge had gotten his way. The army following us would be hungry. They needed to please Schneider. I felt for Joe and his divided loyalties.

The path eventually opened into a huge field, ringed by trees. It looked as if it might have been cleared years before by a farmer, but left barren since then. To Wahyaw the open space was an invitation to run. The horses picked up his cue and started trotting to stay together. Adelaide grinned at me, bouncing up and down with the horse’s gait.

It took no more than a tiny metallic click to alert us. It came from the right, from within the trees. We were instantly on guard.

“Joe?”
I called in silence.

Joe’s jaw was set, his expression an uneasy blend of pride and shame. He wasn’t surprised to see me this time. It was as if he’d known exactly where I was. That was when I realised my thoughts had acted like a beacon. He had led the army to us, and we were surrounded.

Wahyaw let out a piercing shriek and the horses leaped into action, racing across the open meadow as muskets began firing all around us. Soquili reached behind him and pulled out his arrows as we went, shooting blindly into the trees. We hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet before I heard Adelaide’s scream.

The musket ball hit her and sent her flying from her panicked
horse. She landed in a motionless heap, and I could sense nothing from her.

“No!” I screamed. “Turn around, Soquili! Get Addy!”

Wahyaw yelled something to his brother, but I missed it.

“Soquili! Go back!” I cried.

“I must keep you safe, Ma-kee,” Soquili said, and kicked his mount forward. “My brother will go for your sister.”

I twisted around him, craning to see through tearing eyes. “Turn around, Soquili! Turn around!”

Wahyaw raced through the musket fire, bent low over his horse’s neck. The soldiers were emerging from the trees, and I felt a sense of helplessness as the big brave leaped from his horse and grabbed my sister over his shoulder. He suddenly swerved sideways and I saw he’d been shot in his arm, but it didn’t stop him. He was mounted and running again as if nothing had happened, Adelaide leaning against him.

Behind us, the soldiers had gotten onto their horses.

We plunged into the trees, hoping to hide again, but I knew Joe would be able to track us anywhere. The cavalry thundered behind us, crashing through trees, hunters intent on the fox. There was nothing I could do. I wanted to call back to Wahyaw, to see if Adelaide was all right, but couldn’t chance being overheard by our pursuers. I couldn’t even look behind Soquili without toppling us both from our horse. So I leaned low against the horse’s neck and let Soquili take care of us all.