Birthmarked Read Free Page A

away.
    “Wait,” Gaia said. “Why didn’t she give this thing to me herself?”
    “She didn’t want to give it to you at all. She hoped she wouldn’t have to. But a few weeks ago she started to worry, and then she gave it to me.”
    “Worry, why?”
    “I’d say, in light of what happened tonight, she had her reasons,” Old Meg said dryly.
    “But why don ‘t you keep it?”
    “It’s for you,” Old Meg said. “She said, if anything happened to her, to give it to you. And now I’ve kept my promise.”
    Gaia saw now that the old woman had a small, droopy pack leaning beside the wall, and when she put it on, it sagged around her torso as if she’d just added another decade to her age. She took up her walking stick, and for the last time she brought her withered face near to Gaia’s.
    “Once I’m gone, be careful who you trust. Use your wits, Gaia,” the woman said. “Remember we’re all vulnerable. Especially if we love someone.”
    “You’ve got that wrong,” Gaia said, thinking of her parents. “It’s love that makes us strong.”
    Gaia felt the old woman’s gaze upon her, and she looked back defiantly, suddenly feeling stronger. This old woman was a bitter shell of a person who had pushed people away from her all her life, and now she couldn’t even say good-bye with any charity. She promised herself she would never become like Old Meg, withered, unloved, cowardly. Maybe Old Meg, with her unsteady hands, was jealous that the midwife job should come to Gaia, and not her.
    She felt a brief thrill of promise again. Her parents would come back, like all of the others who had been briefly detained. They would resume their life as before, only now there would be two midwives in the family, with twice the compensations coming in. Gaia might be scarred and ugly, but unlike Old Meg, she had promise and people who cared for her.
    Old Meg shook her head and turned away. Gaia watched as she wound her way down the narrow alley toward the far end and disappeared. Then she glanced down at the little package in her hand. By the faint moonlight, she saw there was a cloth tie connected to it. She hitched up the hem of her skirt, feeling the cool night air against her legs, and quickly tied the parcel around her right thigh, arranging it to lie flat along her leg. Then she dropped her skirt and took a few experimental steps. The parcel was slightly cool against her skin, but she could tell that soon it would be unnoticeable, even when she moved.
    When she stepped back out on Sally Row, the candlelight still gleamed from the downstairs window of her home, and she kept her eye on the growing trapezoid of yellow as she walked quietly forward. Around her, the neighboring houses were quiet, their curtains drawn over their windows. She considered going to the Rupps’ home instead, but if a guard truly was waiting for her, he would find her eventually any way. It was best to face him now and find out what she could about her parents.
    The front porch step squeaked as she stepped upon it, and Gaia could practically feel the expectant house responding to her. In three more steps, she reached the door and opened it softly inward.
    “Mom?” she said. “Dad?”
    She looked automatically toward the table, where a candle was burning upright in a shallow clay dish, but the chair beside it was empty.
    The last wisp of hope that her mother would be there to greet her evaporated. Instead, a man straightened from beside the fireplace, and she instantly took in the black of his uniform and the rifle along his back. Candlelight illuminated the undersides of his jaw and the wide, flat brim of his hat, leaving his eyes in shadow.
    “Gaia Stone?” he asked. “I’m Sergeant Grey and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
    The candlelight flickered in the draft. Gaia swallowed nervously and closed the door, her mind ‘working frantically. Was he going to arrest her? “Where are my parents?” she asked.
    “They’ve been taken