Blood Red Road

don’t like it, she says. An I don’t like them. Not one bit.
    It don’t matter what you like, I says. I gotta find Lugh. An any way that helps me find him faster, I’m gonna take it.
    You never listen to me, she says, her face all sulky. What about Nudd? We cain’t jest leave him here.
    He seems to know we’re talkin about him. He lowers his head an butts it gently into her side.
    We’ll set his head fer home, I says. Mercy’ll be glad to see him.
    Do we hafta do it now? she says.
    I nod.
    G’bye, Nudd. She strokes his soft nose, kisses it. You stay outta trouble.
    She stands back.
    Go on home, Nudd, I says. Go home to Mercy. I give him a slap on the rump an he takes off across the plain, back the way we come.
    It feels kinda funny, jest lettin him go like that, says Emmi.
    Miz Pinch’s voice comes from behind us. I jest about jump outta my skin. A pony like that ain’t got a hope of outrunnin a wolfdog pack, she says.
    Saba! says Emmi. Call him back!
    It’s all right, Em, I says. He’ll be fine.
    Suddenly, with her so close fer the first time, I realize how big Miz Pinch is. Over six foot, with broad shoulders, rough man-sized hands an strong lookin arms covered with dark hair.
    Grub’s up, she says.

    We sit on deck to eat—me on a upturned bucket, Emmi on the floor an the Pinches on rickety wood chairs they pull outta the hut.
    Miz Pinch digs into the cookin pot with a long wooden spoon an slops a hearty helpin into a battered tin basin.
    Dried boar an sourberry, she says. She holds the basin out to me. That’ll fill yer belly.
    Pinch goes to grab it. She hauls off an whacks his hand with the spoon. Whacks him so hard he howls. She glares at him.
    That ain’t yers, she says.
    An this one’s fer you, girlie. She fills another eatin tin an hands it to Emmi, who digs right in.
    My squeezed belly’s so happy to be filled that I scarf down the lot double quick. When I’m finished, Miz Pinch hands me a chunk of flatbread. She gives a bit to Em too.
    There you go, she says. Mop them bowls clean. Cain’t go wastin good food. It’s nice to see young ’uns with good appetites, ain’t it, Rooster?
    To share our modest portion with fellow travelers on the dusty road of life, he says. It’s just the thing, my dear! That’s what it’s all about!
    Git every last drop, she says, that’s the way. All done?
    Thanks, I says. I hand our bowls back. I yawn. Emmi rubs her eyes.
    You girls feelin sleepy? says Miz Pinch.
    My eyelids is feelin so heavy all of a sudden. I yawn agin.
    Guess I … ain’t used … to … all this walkin …, I says.
    Saba, Emmi yawns. Why do I feel … so … tired …?
    She curls up on deck an right away, she’s fast to sleep. Somethin ain’t right here. I git to my feet. I stagger a little.
    Whoa … I shake my head, try to wake myself. My head’s so heavy, I cain’t hardly hold it up.
    The Pinches is watchin me, a sly look in their eyes.
    Then I know. The food …, I says. You put somethin in … the food. I go to slide my bow offa my back but my fingers go all slack. My hand drops down. My knees buckle unner me. I fall to the deck.
    Why’d you … do that fer? I says.
    My eyelids flutter.
    Once.
    Twi—

    I’m lyin on somethin hard. Wood. My neck’s stiff. My head’s poundin. It hurts somethin fierce. I lick my dry lips. My shoulders ache. An my wrists. I groan.
    I lift my head, force open heavy eyes. Rough wooden bunks, cookin pots hangin on the rickety walls. Where … cain’t seem to remember … wait … the landboat … the Desert Swan … Rooster Pinch … his wife. I must be inside the hut on the Desert Swan.
    I go to move my arms but … I cain’t. I give ’em a yank. Metal bites into my wrists.
    My heart leaps. Starts to race. I’m wide awake.
    I’m lyin on a bunk. I’m chained, wrists an ankles, to metal rings set into a girder. Emmi’s on the next bunk, jest a few paces away. She’s chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels attached to a frame made from iron.
    We’re prisoners. A red hot wave of fury rushes through me. Fury an fear. Pinch! I roar, pullin at my chains. Pinch! Emmi! I says. Emmi! Wake up!
    Slowly she lifts her head, eyes heavy an dull.
    Wake up, Emmi! C’mon now! Emmi!
    Her eyes widen when she sees me. She looks an sees her own wrists tied, sees her ankles. Her face twists with fear, she starts to breathe fast.
    Saba! What’s goin on? What’re they gonna do