Ninka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 13 of 29

Ninka rolled out of the hammock and pulled on her boots. The stranger on the road had bought her time, but her father was still pinned inside the ring, and eleven children slept in cabins she could not defend. Her gift was gone. She could feel the empty place where it used to sit, cold under her ribs. Luna followed her out into the wet grass. "We have to check the kids," Ninka said. "Before the sun comes up." They walked between the cabins. Crystal trim caught the last of the moon. Ninka pushed open the first door and stopped. A small boy stood in the middle of the room with his hands raised. The air above his palms wobbled like heat off a road. A little girl slept two feet from him. A tin cup floated over her head, tipping. "Put it down," Ninka whispered. "Put it down slow." The boy's face crumpled. The cup dropped. It hit the girl's shoulder and she woke crying. Ninka caught the cup on the second bounce. Water spilled across the blanket. The boy backed into the wall. "I didn't mean to," he said. "It happens when I sleep." Luna knelt by the girl and checked her arm. Just a bruise. Ninka's hands were shaking. She had brought them here. She had called them across the meadow with a rainbow and a dragon, and she had no idea how to teach a child not to lift a cup in his dreams. By the end of the week one of them would break another one's bone. A knock hit the doorframe. The stranger from the road stood there with his pack on one shoulder. Up close he was younger than she'd thought. Feathers and shells swung from his braids. He looked at the boy against the wall, then at the wet blanket, then at Ninka. "Ezra Moonwhisper," he said. "The car's still stuck. It'll hold past sunrise." "Thank you," Ninka said. He stepped inside and set the pack down. He crouched in front of the boy and held out one open hand. "Show me," he said. "Slow this time." The boy lifted the cup two inches off Ezra's palm. Ezra nodded once. "Good. Now down." The cup lowered. Ezra did not smile. He just watched, the way a person watches a fire he means to keep. He looked up at Ninka. "My mother's people taught this. The dark way. I learned the other way on my own." He paused. "I can show them. If you want." Ninka's throat closed. She nodded because she could not speak. "I'll stay," Ezra said. "Long as you need." Outside, the sky was turning gray. Her father was still trapped. Her gift was still gone. But a teacher had walked up the road in the dark, and the children would learn before one of them killed the other.