Birthmarked Read Free

them, and they’re not just going to let your parents go. This is important!”
    “Ouch! Let go,” Gaia said.
    Old Meg stepped back farther, looking around furtively. “I’m leaving Wharfton,” she said. “They’ll be after me next. I just waited to see if you want to come with me.”
    “I can’t leave,” Gaia objected. “This is my home. My parents will be back.” She waited for Old Meg to agree, but when the silence stretched into doubt, Gaia’s fear resurfaced. “How could they keep my mother? Who else will take care of the babies?”
    An ugly laugh came from the darkness. “They have you now, don’t they?” Old Meg muttered.
    “But I can’t take my mothers place,” she whispered up gently. “I don ‘t know enough. I got lucky tonight. Would you believe the woman lied to me? She said it was her fourth, but it was actually-- “
    Old Meg slapped her sharply, and Gaia fell back, clasping a hand to her sore cheek.
    “Think,” Old Meg whispered harshly. “What would your parents want you to do? If you stay here, you 11 be the new midwife for Western Sector Three. You 11 check on the women your mother was tending and deliver the babies she would have delivered. You 11 advance her monthly quota. In short, you 11 do just what you re told, like your mother did. And just like your mother, it might not be enough to keep you safe. If you leave with me, we’ll take our chances in the Dead Forest. I know people there who will help us, if I can find them.”
    “I can ‘t leave,” Gaia said. The possibility terrified her. She couldn’t leave her home and everything she knew. What if her parents were released and she was gone? Besides, she wasn’t going to run away with a paranoid shrew who slapped her and bossed her around like a naughty child. Gaia’s distrust and resentment flared. This was supposed to be a night of celebrating her first birthing.
    A cloud cleared across the face of the moon, and Gaia thought she saw a glimmer in the black, fierce eyes of the old woman. Then Old Meg slipped her a small, brown parcel, smooth and light as a dead mouse. Gaia almost dropped it, repulsed.
    “Idiot,” Old Meg said, grasping Gaia’s hand firmly over the parcel. “It was your mother’s. Keep it safe. On your life.”
    “But what is it?”
    “Put it along your leg, under your skirt. It has ties.”
    There was a clatter in the street and they both jumped. Gaia and Old Meg fell back against the wall, huddled and silent, until the slam of a door came from the distance and all grew quiet again.
    Old Meg moved her head near so that Gaia could feel the old woman’s tepid breath against her cheek. “Ask for Danni Orion if you ever make it to the Dead Forest,” she said. “She’ll help you if she can. Remember it. Like the constellation.”
    “My grandmother?” Gaia asked, confused. Her grandmother had died years earlier, when Gaia was a baby.
    Old Meg gave her a quick jab. “Will you remember, or won’t you?” she demanded.
    “I wouldn’t forget my grandmother’s name,” Gaia said.
    “Your parents were fools,” Old Meg said. “Trusting, cowardly pacifists. And now they’ll pay.”
    Gaia was horrified. “Don’t say that,” she said. “They’ve been loyal to the Enclave forever. They advanced two sons. They’ve served for years.”
    “And don’t you think they’ve regretted their sacrifices?” Old Meg said. “You think they don’t feel the costs, every time they look at you?”
    Gaia was confused. “What do you mean?”
    “Your scar,” Old Meg insisted.
    Gaia had the impression she was supposed to understand something, but there was no mystery about her scar. It was impolite, even cruel of Old Meg to refer to it now.
    Old Meg gave a humph of disgust. “I’m wasting precious time,” she said. “Are you coming with me?”
    “I can’t,” Gaia repeated. “And you should stay. If they catch you running away, you’ll go to prison.”
    Old Meg gave a brief laugh and turned