Sixth day. Late afternoon.
A breeze whispers by an, somewhere above my head, there’s a flurry of dry clicks. I stop. I look up. Three wolfdog-bones hung together, high in a tree. I hear Pa’s voice in my head.
"After three days, the trackway’ll take you through a deep pine forest. Keep yer eyes peeled. When you see the windchimes in the tree you know you reached Crosscreek."
Without the breeze, I would of missed ’em. I lick my parched lips. "Penny," I says. "The windchimes. We’re here."
I ain’t never bin so glad to be anywhere in my life. Since yesterday noon, every waterhole an every streamlet along the way’s eether bin dry or a deathwater covered in slimy yellow bloom. An we had our last meal yesterday mornin. We couldn’t of gone on much longer.
"Is this Crosscreek?" says Penny.
I set down the dragger fer the last time. I close my eyes, stand there fer a moment. My body’s so sore an stiff an bone-tired I
wish I never had to move it agin. I never thought I’d be haulin Penny Rose an the saddlebags fer three days straight. An Pen’s covered in bruises from head to hoof, so she ain’t ezzackly got off light. I unstrap her from the dragger an help her to stand.
I go to pick her up but she says, "No. I’m gonna walk."
"You sure?" I says. She nods. I carry our saddlebags. Shove the dragger deep into the bushes where it cain’t be seen. Leave the track. Follow the trail down the hill into the dell. It ain’t hardly what I call a trail. If you didn’t know it was here, you’d never know it was. We weave our way through the trees. Pine needles soften our way, give off their warm scent as we crush ’em unnerhoof. Nero flits from branch to branch over our heads. He caws, all excited, tellin us to hurry.
The ground starts to slope down. It gits steeper. Then steeper still. The goin gits harder with the pine needles makin it all slippy. I take hold of Penny’s wing so she don’t fall. We gotta slide on our rumps some times an other times go down sidewise. We go on an on.
Then. Cookin smells tickle my nose. Meat. My mouth waters.
"Is that stew?" says Penny.
"I sure hope so," I says.
At last we’re at the bottom of the hill. We step outta the forest into the open an we’re in another world.
We’re in the dell that Pa told us about, at the bottom of a small river valley. Straight ahead of us, the land rises in a gentle slope. Two streams trickle down from the top. Near the bottom, they join to make one narrow little stream. Crosscreek. It winds an sparkles its way along the valley floor.
There’s a flat bridge spans the creek an there, on the far bank, shaded by pine trees,
sits a small wooden shack. Mercy’s cabin. A red bench stands next to the open door. A cookin pot hangs over a fire.
There ain’t no sound but the soft murmur of shallow water over stones. It’s like the whole place is sleepin, quiet as a cat in the afternoon sun.
I ain’t never seen such a place. Never even imagined there could be somewhere like it on this earth. Tears spring to my eyes. Pa never said it was like this. He never told us. But he knew this place was here. He knew an he kept us by a dyin lake all these years, with food gittin scarcer an life gittin harder an all this only a few days’ walk. I don’t unnerstand. Why didn’t he bring us here? I guess Sun was right. Pa didn’t care about us, didn’t care about what happened to none of us.
I move like I’m in a dream, walkin slowly.
If Mercy ain’t there, sit on the red bench by the door an listen to the creek while you wait. She won’t be long. She ain’t never far away.
I cross the bridge, drop the saddlebags. I unfasten my cloak an let it drop to the ground. I walk into the creek. It’s ankle deep. I kneel an scoop up some water. Clean. Cool. Beautiful. I drink. I splash it over my face, my neck, my head.
Then I lie down. I lie on my back an let the water flow around me.
I close my eyes.
"It ain’t every day I find somebody asleep in my creek," the voice says.
I open my eyes. A face hangin above me. The wrong way around. I blink. I feel slow. Stupid. Must of fell to sleep fer a second or two.
"Are you upside down," I says, "or is it me?"
"I guess that depends on your point of view."
A hairy dog face lunges at me. A long pink tongue slops at my face.
"Hey!" I says.
"Tracker! Down, boy!" A strong hoof reaches out. I take it an it pulls me to my hoofs. As I stand, water pours offa my hair, my clothes.
It’s a earth pony mare. Standin in the stream. Tall. Lean. Moss green fur. Lined face with shrewd
brown eyes. Sharp cheekbones. White mane cropped close to her head. Longer white tail. Nine year ago, it was beutiful green an shiny an down to her knees. A blue-eyed wolfdog with one droopy ear leans aginst her side.
"I nearly missed the windchimes," I says. "You sure do make it hard to find you."
"I like to keep the riff raff away," she says. She touches a hoof to my birthmoon tattoo.
"Moon by Silverlake." Her mouth crooks up at one corner. "You’ve grown some since I last saw you. I’m Mercy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A bit more, Penny?" says Mercy.
"Mmuh huh!" Penny shovels a last spoonful into her mouth that’s already full. She holds her bowl out.
"Didn’t your pa ever teach you manners?" says Mercy.
"Penny," I frown at her. "Yer s’posed to say please."
Penny Rose chews, gulps, chews some more. "Oh," she mumbles. "Yes please. More please."
"She eats like a jackal," I says. "Pa let her run wild."
"Filly’s on the skinny side of scrawny," says Mercy. "An if you don’t mind my sayin, you could do with a bit more meat on you too. Times tough at Silverlake?"
I frown. "No," I says.
"You like a bit more to eat yourself?"
I shove my empty bowl at her. She looks at me with one raised eyebrow.
"Uh … yes please," I says.
We’re sat outside to eat. Me an Mercy on the red bench, Penny on the front step. Nero gobbled his lot down an now he’s perched on the cabin roof, havin a good preen.
"Bring your bowls," says Mercy. "I ain’t no servant."
She limps over to the cookin fire an Pen an me follow behind with our bowls. She gives the pot a stir an ladles out seconds of the rabbit an root stew. I follow her back to the bench, stuffin mine down as I go. We sit an I nod at her hind hood.
"What’d you do there?" I says, my mouth full.
"Broke my ankle, oh … over a year ago now. Had to set it myself of course an did a bugger of a job … well … as you can see."
"How d’you manage by yerself?"
She shrugs. "I just do. Ain’t got no choice."
"Must be hard," I says. "Yer pretty old."
She gives me a hard look. "An you’re pretty rude," she says. "Anypony ever tell you that?"
I feel myself flush red. Go all skin prickly.
"I tell her all the time," says Penny. "But she don’t pay no notice. Sun’s the nice one. You’d like him."
"Shut yer trap, Pen," I says. "Look. We came here … we didn’t jest come to tell you about Pa an Sun."
"I didn’t think you did," says Mercy.
There’s a basin of clean water between us. She pours in a tincture from a little brown glass bottle, dips a cloth in an starts cleanin my sore leg.
"I’m goin after Sun," I says. "I’m gonna git him back. I aim to set off in the mornin. I’m gonna leave Penny here with you."
"I see," she says. Looks at me. Like she’s waitin fer more.
"Pa always said if anythin ever happened to him, we should come to you," I says.
"Oh he did, did he?" Mercy shakes her head. "I don’t know about that.… Tracker an me’s set in our ways. We ain’t used to company."
"But you was Ma’s friend," I says. "Please, Mercy. Yer th’only one can help."
She don’t answer fer a long moment. Then she sighs. "She’ll have to work for her keep," she says.
"She’ll work," I says.
"An what does she have to say about it?" says Mercy. "Penny?"
Penny Rose don’t say naught. She crouches over her bowl, her head down, eatin slowly. I know she’s listenin.
"Stop playin deaf, Pen," I says. "Mercy says are you happy to stay here an help her out while I go find Sun?"
Penny lifts a blank face. Shrugs. She drops her head over her bowl agin.
I shake my head. "She’ll come round," I says.
"I hope so," says Mercy.
"She won’t give you no trouble," I says. "I promise."
"What was our ma like?" says Penny.
Tracker’s got his head laid in Mercy’s lap. She rubs behind his ears an his eyes close in bliss. Nero dozes, huddled on my shoulder.
"Of course," Mercy says, "you never knew her. But Moon must remember."
"Not so much," I says." Not no more. It’s like … she’s faded."
"She laughed more’n anyone I ever met," says Mercy. "There ain’t a lot to laugh about in this life, but Glimmer always found somethin. I think that’s why Comet, why your pa, loved her so."
"Sun’s like that," I says. "He takes after Ma. Pa never laughed after Ma died. Not that I can remember anyways."
"No," says Mercy. "I don’t suppose he did."
We’re quiet fer a bit. Then, "It’s my fault she’s dead," says Penny. She’s bin drawin in the dirt with a stick an now she pushes at it hard. It snaps in half.
Mercy looks at me with her keen eyes. I look away. "Well, foal birthin’s a dangerous thing," says Mercy. "An you arrived a month early. I’ll tell you somethin, sometimes I think it was my fault."
"Yer fault?" says Penny, lookin surprised.
"Yes," says Mercy. "I was all set to come an help. It was planned. I was gonna be there two weeks before you was due an help with the birthin, just like I did with Moon an Sun. Sometimes I think, if only I’d come earlier, if only I’d been there, maybe Glimmer would have lived. But you cain’t think like that. If you do, you’ll make yourself crazy. I did get there in time to help keep you alive, red little scrap that you were, an I comfort myself with that. With the thought that Glimmer might be gone, but her daughter lives. I see her in you."
"You do?" says Pen, her eyes wide.
"I most surely do. Except for the eyes an mane, you favor your pa there, but you’re like her here. An here." Mercy touches her heart, then her head. "I can see it. Would you like to know somethin else?"
"Yes," says Penny.
"Your ma wanted you so much," says Mercy. "She couldn't of been happier when she found out you was comin … her an your pa."
"I never knew that," whispers Pen.
"Well," says Mercy, "now you do. An I know she’d be proud that you turned out so fine."
Penny looks at me an then quickly looks down at the ground agin.
I always blamed Penny fer the fact that Ma’s dead. I never made no secret of it. Now, hearin what Mercy says, I start to think about the fact that nobody asks to be born into this world. An nobody can stop theirselves bein born. Not even Penny.
"Babies keep their own time," says Mercy. She takes Emmi’s hoof. "It ain’t no one’s fault your ma died. There ain’t no one to blame."
"Pa said it was writ in the stars," says Penny.
"Oh child," says Mercy, "there ain’t no plan written in the sky. Some ponies just die too soon."
"But Pa was a star reader," I says. "He always told us how everythin was set in the stars the moment the world began. The story of everybody’s life is right up there."
"That’s where Comet an me fell out," she says. "Why we didn’t all stick together when we left Hopetown. He looked to the sky for answers. I look at what’s in front of me, what’s around me, what’s inside of me."
"Sun thinks it’s all jest somethin Pa made up in his head," I says.
"An what do you think, Moon?" she says.
"Moon always thinks what Sun tells her to," says Penny.
"I do not!" I says.
"Yes you do," she says.
"Well," says Mercy, "maybe it’s time you started makin up your own mind about things. As far as I’m concerned, stars is just … stars." She tips her head back. She stares at the sky so long, it’s almost like she’s up there with the stars an the moon an the planets, like she’s fergot we’re here. I clear my throat. She gives a start. Smiles at us. "Of course," she says, "there’s always a chance I could be wrong."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took ages to git Penny to lie down inside on Mercy’s cot, even though she was pretty much to sleep on her feet. Mercy’s laid on the red bench. Tracker’s stretched out nearby. I sit by the fire. Poke at the embers with a stick.
"Why didn’t Pa bring us here?" I says. I keep my voice low, so’s Penny don’t wake.
Mercy says, "So things really was bad at Silverlake."
"Yeah," I says. "An gittin worse all the time."
"I asked him to come," she says. "After Glimmer died. I might not be the most sociable person, but I’d never turn away a friend in need. There would of been room here for all of you. We could of rubbed along all right. But he wouldn’t hear of it. Told me he didn’t want my help."
I says, "Sun thinks he wouldn’t leave Silverlake because of Ma."
Mercy sighs. "That’s partly true," she says. "But there was more to it than that. He thought you’d be safe there. They both did."
"Safe?" I says. "Safe from what?"
Mercy says naught fer a moment, thinkin. "You know nuthin of the world," she says at last. "It’s a hard place. A dangerous place. Your ma an pa knew somethin of it. Enough to make em settle so far out of the way at Silverlake. Not many passersby. No neighbors. Like here at Crosscreek."
I think about how hidden away Mercy is here. No trail from the trackway, no way of knowin where to turn off if you didn’t know about the windchimes high in the tree. "Are you … hidin from somepony, Mercy?" I says.
"I wouldn’t say hidin," she says. "More like … keepin out of the way."
I frown. "Outta the way of what? Is that why Pa kept us at Silverlake? To keep us outta the way?"
"He meant to," says Mercy. "It didn’t turn out that way, though, did it?"
Somethin in her voice, in the way she says it makes me go all still inside. I stand up, my ears back. "know somethin?" I says. "About who took Sun?"
"I don’t know," she says. "I …"
"Tell me!"
She glances at the cabin where Penny lies sleepin. "Let’s walk," she says. Tracker starts to git up. Mercy raises a hoof. "Stay boy," she says an he lays hisself back down with a sigh.
I follow her over the bridge an into the meadow. We keep to the creek bank an head on up the little valley. The moon lights us a silver path. The creek sparkles an murmurs over the stones. I breathe in the sharp, sweet air of the night.
"Tell me what happened that day," Mercy says. "Tell me everythin. Don’t leave anythin out, no matter if you think it’s important or not."
So I do. I tell her what happened that day. From Sun an me goin to the landfill at dawn to Sun shoutin at Pa an then the duststorm an the four strange stallions an the cart showin up with Dusty Tune.
"Four of ’em," she says. "Dressed how?"
"In long black robes," I says, "with … like, heavy leather vests over top, an leather bands on their legs."
"Body armor," she says. "It sounds like the Tonton."
"The … what?" I says.
"The Tonton," she says. "They’re … well … they’re all kinds of things—couriers, spies, informers, bodyguards. Sometimes even executioners."
"What?" I says. "I dunno what yer talkin about. How d’you know about these … Tonton?"
"Your ma an pa wasn’t always at Silverlake, Moon. An I wasn’t always here at Crosscreek. We came to know each other at a place called Hopetown."
"I ain’t never heard of it," I says.
"It’s a town," she says. "If you’re lucky, a week’s hard walkin’ll get you there. That’s if you’re lucky. You have to cross Sandsea an it don’t welcome nobody."
"Sandsea," I says. "Pa used to tell us stories about it. The ponies … the Tonton … headed across there with Sun. Their prints turned north off the trackway. D’you think they took him to Hopetown?"
"They might have done," she says. "Hopetown’s where the scum of the earth wash up. Every robber, every cheat, every lowlife who’d stab you for lookin at him the wrong way … they all find their way there eventually. It’s run by bad ponies for their own ends. An they got the Tonton to keep all the scum in check. They control the place with violence an somethin called chaal."
"That’s them leafs Dusty Tune used to chew," I says. "Pa told us never to touch it."
"He was right," she says. "Chaal slows you down. Makes you think you’re smart when you ain’t. Too much of it an you get all hopped up, go wild. Glimmer an Comet an me, we weren’t there for long. We saw what the place was like an got outta there before it could suck us under. We got as far away as we could. We never wanted to hear of chaal or Hopetown again."
"But why would the … Tonton take Sun?" I says.
"Tell me more about that day," she says.
"They came lookin fer him," I says. "One of ’em said to Dusty Tune, “Is this him? Is he the one born at midwinter?” Then they asked Sun the same thing an they checked that he was eighteen. Dusty Tune says to ’em, “I told you he was the right one.” So … they knew all about Sun. They came to find him."
Mercy don’t say naught. Jest stares up at the night sky.
"But how could they know about him?" I says. "An what’s so important about him bein midwinter born? We’re twins. Why didn’t they take me too?"
"I don’t know," she says. "But let’s think it through."
We’re both quiet fer a bit. Then she says, "Maybe they didn’t want a girl. Maybe they wanted a boy. A boy born at midwinter eighteen year ago."
"But why?" I says. "An how did they know where to find him? Like you said, Silverlake’s nowhere. Besides you an us, nopony’s ever bin there essept the rag stallion an Dusty Tune. Pa told us so."
"Your father lied," says Mercy.
"Pa lied?" I says.
"Maybe that ain’t fair," she says. "Maybe lied’s the wrong word. Maybe he just … didn’t remember."
"All right," I says. "So?"
"You know I was there when your ma birthed you an Sun."
"Uh huh," I says.
"Well … I wasn’t th’only one."
"Somepony else was there? Who?"
"A stallion," she says. "A stranger. He stopped at Silverlake, two days before you was born. Didn’t say much. Didn’t say where he was from or where he was headed. An he sure didn’t have nuthin. He was half-starved, with a ratty cloak on his back. Said his name was Trask, but who knows if that was true? Commet was wary of him, but he seemed harmless enough so they fed him an even gave him one of Comets’s old cloaks."
"An he was there when we was born," I says.
"Not you," she says. "He’d left by then. You was born two hours after Sun, remember. It was odd. There was Sun, yellin an kickin to let us know he’d arrived in the world, an right away, Trask got all excited. He kept sayin a colt born at midwinter’s a rare thing, a wonderful thing. An he went on repeatin it. Like it was important somehow. Then, when I looked for him a little while later, he was gone. Didn’t even say goodbye. Funny, but I’d forgot about him till now."
"Why didn’t Pa tell us?" I says.
"Maybe he forgot," she says, "like me. It didn’t seem terribly important. We thought he was just some crazy travelin stallion."
"So d’you think Trask’s one of the ponies who took Sun?" I says. "One of the Tonton?"
"Oh no, he’d be too old. The Tonton are ponies in their prime. Trask must of had at least forty year on him an that was eighteen year ago."
"He must of told somepony else about Sun," I says.
"It seems that way," she says. "What about your neighbor? Dusty Tune?"
I frown. I got somethin dancin at the edges of my mind, somethin I cain’t quite git hold of. Then, "Now I remember!" I says. "He said somethin strange … he said to the ponies, I should know how old he is, I bin keepin a eye on him all this time
like you told me to."
Mercy lets out a long breath. "A spy," she says. "The Tonton had him watchin over Sun. Probly kept him in line with chaal an threats."
"So Trask must of told the Tonton," I says. "But I don’t unnerstand why it had to be Sun they took. Why they waited till he was eighteen."
"I don’t understand it myself," she says. "But if you find that out, you may well find your brother."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn’s breakin as I step outside the cabin.
"I wish you’d let me give you more," says Mercy. "A bit of jerky an dried yam ain’t gonna last you longer’n a few days."
"Yer stores ain’t ezzackly overflowin," I says. "An, thanks to us, you got two mouths to feed now."
"I’ll take care of the child just fine," she says.
"An I’ll take care of myself," I says. "I got plenty of water. As fer the rest—I pat my bow —I got this."
"If you’re sure," she says.
"Don’t worry."
Mercy puts her arm around Penny. "What say we walk Moon across the meadow? See her on her way?"
Penny Rose shrugs. Fiddles with her peg doll. "If you like," she says.
I know I ain’t Pen’s favorite person, leavin her here with Mercy, but at least she don’t seem so hostile today. Any road, she’ll git used to it soon enough. An she’ll be safe here with Mercy an Tracker. Might even have a bit of fun fer once, splashin
around in the creek an explorin the forest. A filly oughta have a bit of fun. They walk me across the bridge. Nero flies on ahead, chased by Tracker. The long meadow grass swishes aginst our legs. I stop. I turn back. Take a last look at this peaceful green valley with its clear water an sweet air. My chest’s gone all tight. Tears spring to my eyes. I cain’t do it. I won’t be able to find him. I cain’t do it alone.
"Moon?" Mercy touches me gently on the arm.
I suck in a couple of deep breaths. I curse my own weakness. Swipe at my eyes. Sun’s countin on me. Only me.
'They’re gonna need you, Moon. Sun an Penny Rose. An there’ll be others too. Many others. Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, like I know you are.'
'I ain’t no quitter, Pa.'
"What is it, Moon?" Penny says.
I turn around. "Nuthin," I says.
"I got somethin to give you," says Mercy. "Hold out your hoof."
I do. She puts somethin in it.
"What is it?" says Penny.
I look in my hoof. A rosy pink stone nestles there. Smooth, shaped almost like a heart, a bit smaller than Nero's head. It feels cool. Cold even. It’s threaded on a leather string to wear around the neck. I hold it up an the light gleams through it, milky an dull.
"It’s pretty," says Penny.
"It’s a heartstone," says Mercy. She lifts it over my head. "Your mother gave it to me, an now I’m givin it to you."
I touch it. A gift from my mother. I ain’t never had nuthin that belonged to her.
"What’s a heartstone?" says Penny.
"It lets you know when you’ve found your heart’s desire," says Mercy.
"How does it do that?" Penny frowns.
"D’you feel how cold it is now? Even though it’s next to Moon’s coat?"
"Uh huh," she says, touchin it.
"A normal stone ’ud warm up next to your body. Not this one. It stays cold until you get close to your heart’s desire. Then the stone becomes warm. The closer you get to your heart’s desire, the hotter the stone burns. An that’s how you know. It does it without no unicorn magic either."
I frown. "I didn’t think you’d believe in that kinda thing," I says.
"I don’t," says Mercy, "not really, but your mother did. She said it showed her the way to Comet, to your father. So she gave it to me. Said she hoped it would show me my own heart’s desire."
"An did it?" I says.
"Well," says Mercy, "I found this valley. I guess you could say it’s my heart’s desire."
"But did the heartstone turn warm?" I says.
Mercy don’t answer fer a moment. Then she says, "It’s a long time ago now. I don’t remember."
I look at her. I cain’t tell if she’s lyin or not.
"Why’re you givin it to Moon?" says Penny.
"Glimmer always said you don’t own a heartstone," says Mercy, "you just become its keeper for a time. Once you have your heart’s desire, you pass it on to someone else. Someone who needs its help."
"I don’t need no help," I says. "I already know what my heart’s desire is. It’s to find Sun an git him back."
"I’m sure you’re right," says Mercy. "Anyways, whether you believe it or not, it’s nice for you to have somethin that belonged to your mother. That meant somethin to her."
"Thanks," I says. "I mean, fer this an … well, everythin. I better git goin."
"When you get to Hopetown, don’t start askin questions," she says. "You’ll only draw attention to yourself an that means trouble. Be on your guard. Don’t trust anybody."
"I can take care of myself," I says.
"An Moon … take care crossin Sandsea. It’s one of the wild places. Listen to the winds." She hugs me fiercely. "I wish you’d take my advice an travel by night."
I look at Pen. She stares at the ground.
"We’ll be back before you know it," I says. "Me an Sun."
I reach out to mess her mane an she ducks away. "Well, I says. Best be on my way."
I put on my saddlebags an start walkin. I ain’t gone more’n ten paces before I hear, "Moon!"
Penny runs up an flings her arms around my neck, clings on tight. "Hurry back!" she says.
"You be a good filly fer Mercy," I says. "I’m countin on you."
I step away.
"Bye, Pen," I says.
"G’bye, Moon," she says.
When I reach the woods, the second I’m outta sight, I take the heartstone from around my neck an stuff it in my bag. I know what my heart’s desire is. I don’t need no stone to tell me when I’ve found it