Blood Red Road

eyes. He must of bin followin us the whole time, I says.
    I knew he wouldn’t leave us! says Em. I knew it!
    You better move, I says. Quick, before she sees you.
    I lift my hands an jest as she slips out agin, Miz Pinch turns around. She frowns. What’s goin on? You know the rules!
    She grabs Emmi. Raises her arm to backhand her. Jest then Pinch calls out, Miz Pinch! The chariot’s here, my love!
    She stops. Looks over her shoulder.
    A scabby camel steps up beside the Swan. He’s pullin a rusted out car behind him, hitched on with a harness. By the filthy look on his face, he ain’t too pleased with how things’ve worked out fer him. He rolls his eyes an snaps his long yellow teeth at the legs of the little boy perched on his hump.
    Miz Pinch turns back. I’ll tend to you later, she hisses to Em. Right now, I got bigger business.
    C’mon, missus, I ain’t got all day, says the camel boy. Where to?
    Miz Pinch yanks at my chains. I stumble forwards.
    Take us to the Cage Master, she says.

    I peer outta the windows as we bump slowly through Hopetown on flat tires. It’s so crowded with people we cain’t hardly move. They press aginst the chariot, starin in at us. The camel boy leans down an cracks his whip at ’em, tryin to clear the way.
    I look fer golden hair tied back in a long braid. Fer eyes blue as a summer sky.
    Are you here, Lugh?
    A man’s back. Broad shoulders, gold hair—short, but they could of cut his hair by now—the right height. My heart skips a beat. Every muscle in my body goes tense.
    Turn around, turn around, oh please turn around, let me see you .
    He does. It ain’t Lugh.
    At that moment, a man leans through the window. He grabs my arm an starts to try an pull me out, chains an all.
    I don’t stop to think. I twist, I scrabble, I brace myself on the chariot, give myself a foothold.
    Stop! Rooster Pinch beats at the man’s head with his tattered umburella. Unhand her!
    Saba! Emmi cries.
    The red hot floods me. I bite down on his filthy hand. He yells out but hangs on. I bite harder. Deeper. I bite till I taste his blood. He shrieks an lets go. He falls back. Gits swallowed by the crowd.
    That’s it! shouts Pinch. Run, you villain! You coward! Ha! No one crosses Rooster Pinch!
    Saba, says Emmi. Are y’okay?
    I spit outta the window. Spit out the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. I sit back in my seat. I wipe my mouth with my chained hands. I’m fine, I says.
    I look over at Miz Pinch. She ain’t moved through the whole thing. She’s jest sat there, starin at me.
    An there’s a little smile on her face.

    The camel boy parks the chariot in front of a long low stone buildin on the edge of Hopetown. It’s a proper built place, not a Wrecker-junk shanty like the rest.
    You bring the child an remember, keep yer mouth shut, says Miz Pinch to Rooster as we git out. I’ll deal with the Cage Master.
    She grabs my hand chains an hauls me along behind her. Pinch brings Emmi by the hand. Two big mean-lookin men step in front of the door as we come up to it. My heart skips a beat. They’re dressed in long black tunics with leather body armor over top. Jest like the men who took Lugh. They must be Tonton, like Mercy told me about.
    Cage Master ain’t in, says one.
    He’ll be in fer me, says Miz Pinch. Tell him Miz Pinch is here. Say I got somethin special fer him.
    They look at us with hard eyes. They got merciless faces.
    Didn’t you hear me? the Tonton says. I said, he ain’t in.
    You’ll tell him I’m here if you know what’s good fer you, says Miz Pinch.
    One of ’em jerks his head an th’other one opens the door an disappears inside. He’s back soon.
    You can go in, he says. But you better be quick.
    We all go in.
    The Cage Master sits behind a big stone table in a white room. In the wall behind the table, there’s a big wooden door. A dull roar, the muffled sound of many voices, comes from behind it.
    There’s partly et food spread out all over the table in a big mess—flatbread an platters of roast meat an boiled pigeon eggs an jugs of grog. The Cage Master hardly even looks up when we come in, he’s so busy stuffin it all into his mouth. He’s got a fat, round, pink face with three chins an a few long hanks of hair plastered flat to his skull. There’s a red napkin tied around his neck.
    Puffed up, greedy toad. I ain’t afeared of you .
    He picks up a roasted sparrow an crams the whole thing in his mouth. Well, what is it? he says. I’m a busy