The Last Train to Elda

Three days to the new moon, at the summit of Ravenhill

"Do you remember the time I pushed you down the hill, Kyra?" I asked the one person I loved most in this world.

I barely felt her fingers steal around my neck. The tingles it sent down my spine turned into shivers of terror. Her hands were a vise, forcing my spirit out of my body. I raked her fingers with my nails, blunted by hard work, and unable to make a difference. My lungs protested. For so long they had taken the sweet air they breathed for granted, and now, their drug was cut off completely.

The roaring in my ears ceased abruptly, as she let go. I massaged my neck and watched her crouch behind a pile of rocks in disbelief. A general scrabbling in the direction of the path drew my attention.

"Anessa!" The voice was male, gruff and surprisingly familiar..

I didn't want to run in to any of the village residents, not now, especially when I was so close to freedom.

"Anessa, I know you're there," he said.

Piercing blue eyes stared into mine. Ocean, the wanderer. So not one of the villagers then.

"You coward," he whispered,

"Running away isn't going to solve any of your problems."

"You're one to talk," I said, "Show me a place where you've stayed and faced yours."

"Right there." He pointed down at the village.

"In all my wanderings, I found only one place worth giving up my freedom for; one person for whom I was prepared to go through anything for. You. And now you've shown me how wrong I was." 

I couldn't summon up anything other than a strong sense of incredulity.

"Well, you're free to leave. No one's stopping you," I said.

He laughed - not a very pretty sound. It held more mockery than mirth. 

"I don't think you have the courage to leave. You don't have what it takes to survive here. You're a sheltered lass, and that's what you'll always be."

"I don't think I need to prove anything to you."

"Then there's no more to be said, is there? I'll be on my way then."

With a smile that did not reach his eyes, and a great deal of scraping and scrabbling, he  descended down the path.

A movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. Kyra crept out from behind her hiding place. I put my hands up in surrender. 

"I know, I promised not to speak of this anymore. I'm sorry. It just slipped out!"

As you just saw, being pushed down the hill in the days of our childhood was a very sore spot for Ky, one that I'd vowed not to needle. She showed her displeasure in unkind, often cruel ways, but I didn't mind. When you love someone, that is what you tend to do, especially when you are on the verge of eloping with them.

"How many days from here?" Was all she asked, in a calm, even voice. Moving as slowly as possible, I put my hands down and cleared my throat.

The north has always been a forbidden subject. None of us talk about it. The adults always locked us away into tiny, dark places if we questioned them. The children came up with wild stories, some wildly improbable, some of them outright ridiculous, but in the face of nothing, even nonsense is enough of a creed to have faith in. And so, a mythology evolved, a body of tales, songs, codes and gestures, to be told in secret, unknown to those who could reprimand us, and so it was instilled into us. We never talked about the north. Not openly, in broad daylight.

"Well?" She asked. 

"I don't know. Anyway, I was thinking..."

"What were you thinking? Were you swayed by that bumbling idiot who came up here with those silly words of his to sway you? Do you love him? You want to go with him instead, is that it?"

I could see her hands morph into claws again.

"No, no. You're the only one I love. Of course I'm not going away with him. Why would I? He and I are not meant to be. The thing is..."

"What is it? Out with it. Now."

"I'd like to go back home."

"Are you crazy?"

"I think so. How does that have anything to do with this?"

I saw her eyes change colour. Not the right time. Alright. I put my hands up in a placating gesture.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

"To whom?" she demanded suspiciously. 

"Mum. I didn't tell her I was going away."

"That's what running away means, you illiterate fool." 

"She may just be an entertainment woman, but her time's much better spent in earning her bread than worrying about me."

"No. We're leaving."

"I'm going home." I was stubborn on that point.

"I'll take you, either living or dead. Watch me if I don't." 

Looking at her expression, I knew that my time had come.