Ninka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 17 of 29

After breakfast Ninka rang the bell on the school steps. The children came out of the cabins and stopped at the edge of the grass. None of them crossed. The oldest boy folded his arms. A small girl backed toward the door she had come from. Ezra stood in the open doorway of the school with chalk in his hand and waited. "He's a stranger," the oldest boy said. "You told us not to trust strangers." "I did," Ninka said. "I still mean it." "Then why him." She had no clean answer. Ezra had stopped her father on the ridge road. That was a fact she could not share with children who already flinched at footsteps. The boy who set fires in his sleep watched her from a cabin window. If she lost today, he would sleep tonight and someone would burn. Her grandmother came around the side of the school in her green robe and sandals, moving slower than the grass. Ninka had not heard the truck. Katia carried a small vial in her palm, gold liquid inside, a cork sealed with wax. "Grandma." "Rebecka sent me with this," Katia said. She held the vial up. "One drop on his tongue. He answers what they ask. Then they decide." "That's not fair to him." "Fair is for later." Katia looked at the children, then back at Ninka. "They need to hear him and know it's true. One drop won't hurt him." Ezra came down the steps. He had heard. He did not argue. He opened his mouth and Katia tipped one gold drop onto his tongue. He swallowed and stood still. "Ask him," Katia told the children. The oldest boy stepped forward. "Did you ever hurt a kid." "No," Ezra said. "Are you working for anyone who wants us." "No." "Why do you want to teach us." Ezra's jaw worked. The serum pulled the answer out slow. "Because when I was ten my gift killed my brother. Nobody taught me. I don't want another child to carry that." The meadow went quiet. The small girl at the cabin door let go of the frame. The oldest boy looked at his feet, then at the school, then at Ninka. "Okay," he said. They crossed the grass in ones and twos. The fire-boy came last, holding another child's hand. Ezra held the door and counted them in. Eleven. He closed the door behind them. Ninka stayed on the steps with her grandmother. Her hands shook. Katia pressed the empty vial into her palm. "You did the hard part," Katia said. "You let someone else help." Inside, Ezra's voice started low and steady through the window. A lesson beginning. Ninka closed her fingers around the glass and felt the wax seal, still warm from her grandmother's hand. One problem solved. She thought of the fire-boy's small hand in the other child's, and knew the first lesson would test what Ezra had promised.