WIP (Chapter 1)

I wake up as the first rays of sun peek over the horizon. I have to move quickly, before I’m found. I’m not supposed to be here. No one should be out after curfew, but I have less right than anyone else. My name is Sparrow, and I shouldn’t exist. According to the government, I don’t.

         I carry nothing but my body with me as I move. No one else is around, but I am careful to double check anyway. I’m on the outskirts of The City, where only the poor tread. Even Mage’s only patrol here infrequently. As the sun crests completely over the horizon, I slip into a narrow alley. At the very back, hidden behind old abandoned boxes and other trash is a grate. It looks old and is very rusty, but even I can pull it out of the ground easily. I put my feet first through the hold until I am hanging by my fingertips.

         Even after years of doing this every morning, I still hold my breath as I let go. It is a short drop, though. For me, there has always been that fear of falling, however, since the first time I was shown these tunnels under The City. I was very young at that time, and the memories come back, unbidden as my eyes adjust to the darkness. There is some sort of creature down here that glows. Some sort of worm. But even in the dim light from the grate, they won’t light. Not until I get farther away. I remember the first time I saw them. Disgusting, glowing maggots. But when I was shown their usefulness, they became less. Just a tool. Something to be used. And I can live with that. They don’t harm anyway, and in fact they are quite useful. It is better to just let them be.

         As soon as my eyes adjust, I take off with sure, silent steps through the tunnels. It is second nature for me to move quietly. In everything I do, I must remain unseen. It is why I sleep outside at night. When I sleep, I can no longer keep my Ability hidden. Well, my Abilities. I navigate the twists and turns of the tunnels with a practiced ease. It’s still early, and very little light filters in through the other grates —most are well hidden in refuse piles — the glow worms light the path well enough that I don’t trip over debris in the tunnels.

         Soon enough I come to a junction, where five tunnels meet. The quiet sound of breathing surrounds me. These are my children. They are my friends and my companions, and they all depend upon me for survival. None of us should exist. They are the third borns, when there is only allowed two. The second son, when a daughter is required. The children of the unmarried or the whore. We are the forgotten. The abandoned. And we have banded together for the sake of survival. Most of them are fairly young, but some have reached their teens. None but myself remain who are older than 15. Everyone is younger, most below the age of ten. Not that anyone knows how old they really are beyond an estimate. We don’t celebrate birth dates. Often we have to guess at what day it is. We celebrate nothing. Every day is a struggle to survive.

         I let them sleep for a little while yet. For while they sleep, they can dream of a better world. A world where they are well fed, well clothed, and well cared for. I do the best I can, of course, but there is only so much one girl can do. I was not always alone, but, for one reason or another, the others had left us. I don’t know what happened to any of them, but no one ever heard from them again. We assume —that is, I assume — the government got a hold of them and by an unspoken agreement, nothing more is ever said about them. It’s as if they didn’t exist. Perhaps it is better that way. But even though they exist no more, they are not forgotten. Some of the older children used to tell me that the little ones cried out for them at night. But they will soon be forgotten. They always are.  Just as we were.

         Finally I rise from my crouch, moving to the sleeping form closest. With just a touch on the shoulder, he wakes. From years of sleeping lightly and remaining alert, he wakes silently, bright eyes peering up uncertainly for a moment before they focus on my face. In one motion he’s up without a word and both of us are moving on to wake the rest of the children.  When everyone is up, we begin moving. Every morning is the same. We head through the tunnels away from The City. Eventually we come to another grate, but this one has pure, unfiltered sunlight streaming through it. Into the wall are cut steps leading up.

         A boy we call Twitch — because of a jumpy left eyebrow — goes first because even though he is probably four or five years younger than I, he is the tallest and the strongest. Once he is up, he reaches back down; I pick up the smallest ones, handing them to him to pull up and out. The rest climb out and I am the last one to follow. I replace the grate carefully, but there is no need to hide this one. We are past even the Farms on the outskirts of The City. No one knows why the tunnels extend this far. Perhaps The City was once much larger than it is now.

         When I turn from the grate, I do a quick head count, same as every morning. There are eleven of us. No one has run off yet, but a few are reaching the curious age, the time when most do. Out of the eleven, only two of us have any Ability. The other, aside from myself, is a small little boy we call Mouse. He never speaks and he eats only what we manage to coax into him. Nearest we can tell, he’s no more than five years old. No one knows his story, and he isn’t telling. He can tell when someone uses an Ability. What the Inner City and the government call a Sensitive. I just call it down right useful. After all, it’s more than I can do. But then, I can do a lot more.

         I nod once and they all scamper off. This is not part of The City, it’s past the Farms, and I don’t think even the Mage’s come this far. I’ve surely never seen one. But apart from being safe here, there’s food. The smaller children pick berries and fruit from trees here, while me and a few of the older ones hunt. We don’t have proper tools, no one does, but we make do with sharpened sticks and rock-slingers. It’s early spring, the perfect time for hunting. In no time we have a squirrel and a few rabbits. Not much, but it’s more meat than we had all winter. We also find some familiar herbs and vegetables. I think there used to be farms out here, they don’t quite grow in rows, but they grow in predictable patches. When we’ve gathered as much as we can carry, Twitch, Crow and I move back farther into the trees until we reach a clearing we all know. There’s still the remains of yesterday’s fire, and the days before that. Every morning, we come here to eat.

         Once we’ve unburdened ourselves of the meat and vegetables, placing them in neat piles on the ground, I straighten, hands rubbing out knots in my lower back. There is a simple way to call the young ones to us. With just a small bit of focus, I move the air around us. Nothing big or fancy, but Mouse’s Ability is strong. He will get the other’s attention and they will come this way. In no time at all, small faces peek out of the trees and once they are certain it is us, they come with handfuls of fruits. Most are not quite ripe yet, but it is better than nothing. Mouse carries nothing. They place them in piles next to the vegetables and a small girl walks towards me, her eyes bright, but worried.

         “What’s wrong, Lily?” My voice sounds loud after the relative silence of the morning.

         “Mouse Seen something, Sparrow.” We call her Lily on account of her blond hair. It’s so pale it’s almost the color of lily petals. And she’s nearly as frail as one.

         “When?” I hear the anxiety in my voice and try to hide my worry. They don’t need any more added to their burdens. Survival is enough.

         “No long ‘go. He pulled on my sleeve and pointed back to The City. The way we come.”

         It takes effort, but I put on a comforting smile as I kneel down next to her. “It’s just a Mage doing his daily stuff, you hear me? You know how strong Mouse is. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

         She nods, but I can tell she is still worried. She can’t be more than ten. She wanders off to rejoin a group of girls. Now that we are here, they spread out, playing games with sticks, or tossing rocks back and forth. Crow comes to my side, his long black hair and stooped shoulders indicative of the bird he is named after. He has to be thirteen or fourteen, yet he’s never shown signs of wandering off. He lowers his voice so that only Twitch and I can hear.

         “That was no Mage in The City, Sparrow. You know that.” Twitch nods his agreement, his eyebrow jumping even more emphatically than normal. He’s nervous.

         “I know. But they don’t have to. They worry enough.” My gaze goes to where two boys draw with sticks in the dirt.

         Crow shakes his head, his locks swinging out from in front of his face. His hooked nose reminds me of a bird of prey. “But what are we going to do if they come here? We can’t make a fire now, they’ll see the smoke! How are we going to eat?”

         Twitch freezes, only his eyebrow moving. He hadn’t thought of that. But I had. Long ago.

         “There’s more than one way to cook a squirrel, Crow.” I go retrieve our knives where we hid them long ago in the hollow of an old tree. We shouldn’t even have them. They were filched long ago from the trash of an Inner City house. They throw everything away, there. Even food. But recently it’s been too dangerous to go back. Mages patrol there regularly.

         We have three, so Twitch, Crow and I each take one. Without another word, we set to skinning the animals. One squirrel and three rabbits. It’s not much, and the three of us will go without meat in order to feed the small ones. Lilly will probably give hers to one of the smaller girls, and Mouse will only eat a few berries.

It’s not enough to live on, and you can count every single rib of the children. We make short work of skinning the four animals. We have had to do this many years for survival. It’s second nature.

         Once they are skinned, Twitch and Crow look to me expectantly. Closing my eyes, I feel for the moisture around me. There is very little humidity, so only a little in the air. The rest I will have to pull from the ground. I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead, and one drop drips down my back. At about eye level, a sphere of water the size of my head hovers. I focus again, heating the air around the water. Bubbles start forming on the surface, Twitch and Crow staring alternately between me and the water. I gesture towards the skinned animals and Crow shakes himself out of it, moving to grab them. At my nod he tosses the first one in. After all four are in, I concentrate the heat, it cooks them faster. Once I am sure they are done, I let go of everything. The heat disappears, the water drops in a shower, and the four cooked corpses fall to the ground.

         My knees feel as though they’ve turned to jelly, and I sit down hard. Spots swim in front of my vision. I’m on the verge of passing out. I can’t allow that. I put my heads between my legs breathing deeply.  Twitch and Crow have started to divide up the food already. Lily helps. A soft hand on my shoulder makes me jump. Looking up, Mouse stands beside me. Even standing as he is, he only just barely stands taller than I am sitting. He tugs at me to stand. With a quiet sigh, I force myself to my feet, just barely managing to keep from stumbling. He tugs at my sleeve, pointing in the direction of The City, but slightly to the side. The path we had taken.

         I kneel down next to him, making sure none of the others are close enough to over hear. “Closer?”

         He nods silently, placing a finger in his mouth. My mind begins to whir. We can’t stay here. That much is certain. But can we go back? I’m not sure. Mouse stays close by my side as I stand, every so often tugging on my sleeve. If they’re pass the farms, they are probably using Abilities to clear a path. But if they’re pass the farms, they know we’re here. I watch for a moment the little children dividing up food. I take a deep breath and hold it for a moment before letting it out slowly. It’s an old calming trick I learned long ago.

         My voice is steady as I call out. “Twitch, Crow, come here please.” As an after thought I call Lily as well.

         As they gather around me, the confusion in the air is thick. Lily’s bright eyes take in Mouse at my side and her eyes widen. Fear. That’s to be expected. Everyone knows what he can do. When she looks at me, though, trust takes it’s place. I realize I can’t do this. I can’t keep these children safe. I can’t even keep them full. Mouse, perhaps senseing my unease, perhaps only Seeing the Mages getting close, gives a harder tug on my sleeve. This pulls me back to myself and I turn to Crow, shaking off my doubts.

         “Take the children away. Go to the spring and find a new clearing close to that. Tell them you’re going on a picnic. Don’t stop until you are far from here.”

         Crow nods and begins to gather the scattered children. Twitch, his eyebrow still for once, is extremely calm. “What are you going to do?”

         Lily looks up at me as well, waiting for the answer. They aren’t going to like it. Taking another deep brath, I steel myself for their reactions.

         “I’m going to lead them away from here.”

         Silence greets the statement. I expected resistance, reasons why I can’t do it. I have underestimated them. Perhaps if I have, then anyone looking for them may do the same. Twitch nods slowly, he understands that someone with my Abilities is more valuable to the government than a bunch of no name children. I hope that’s true. They children are smart. They can stay hidden.

         Pressing my knife into Twtich’s hand, I continue. “If they have sniffers, most will follow me. Make sure you move through the water as much as possible.” Mouse’s pulling is becoming frantic now. They’re very close. “If you come to a grate, take it but replace it from below.”