Sprite
Chapter 17

The wagon creaked menacingly and lurched to one side. Norah gasped, and grabbed onto her father’s arm so she wouldn’t fall off.

Jim grinned at her tolerantly. “It’s nothing like riding Rainbow, is it?” he asked. “See? I told you you weren’t missing anything.”

Norah straightened her back. She had asked to accompany her father on one of his trips to Datro, the city where her grandfather ran his factory. Mama was busy with three year old Adam and didn’t have much time for Norah, so whenever Daddy went away on business, Norah moped around the house. She was only allowed to ride Rainbow to the end of the road and back, unless somebody was with her. “It’s fun,” she insisted.

The road got better after they left the Hanan property. It was the main road through the forest, and although it was dirt, it was wide and packed down hard from repeated use. Jim had taken no guards this trip, preferring to leave them with the old man and Miriam while he was gone. Hunters knew better than to bother honest merchants on this road, and for all their bluster about the mutant threat, Jim, a former hunter himself, knew the truth. The pitiful mutants who made it to the forest were more afraid of the hunters than the hunters were of them. He was confident they would see no mutants this trip.

He glanced sideways at his young daughter, who at ten was the image of her mother, with long red hair just a tad darker, but the same green eyes and impish smile. He’d taken Norah, over Miriam’s protests, because the girl needed to learn what she was sooner or later. Miriam’s father wouldn’t wait forever. She would have to go away to school in the fall, and they couldn’t protect her there.

The trip to Datro took the better part of two days, and Jim took his time. He was in no hurry to meet Alan or to subject his daughter to city politics. He knew a little place a couple of miles off the main road, and turned the wagon down the rutted path, glad for once that there were no guards accompanying them. There was a lake around here somewhere. . . . “Come on,” he said to Norah, helping her down. “We’ll camp here for the night.”

Norah stared at the tall trees above them. The road had seemed to disappear the farther in they went, and now there was no path at all. She helped her father carry two bundles from the back of the wagon down a steep trail which led even deeper into the woods. The trail ended abruptly, and Norah stopped as she saw water, more water than she had ever seen in one place before.

Jim chucked her under her chin. “It’s a lake,” he said with a smile. “It’s like a bathtub, only bigger.”

Norah’s eyes grew round. Little Adam got to take baths. She had to make do with buckets of water poured over her head, because in the bath, her webbing tended to grow the longer she remained immersed in water. “Oh,” she said. She wondered how it would feel to let this water slide over her body. She squatted at the water’s edge, looking without touching.

Jim busied himself setting up camp. “Norah, in the city you must never mention your--skin condition to anyone,” he said, not looking at her. “Especially in the city.” He set up a small tent for her and placed his own bedroll just outside it. “When Mama and I aren’t around, you’ll need to cut the excess off yourself.”

“I know.” They had been over all this before. There was nothing wrong with Norah, it was just a small birth defect which caused her to have extra skin between her fingers and toes, and in a few other places. But she was told never to let anyone know about it, not even Grandfather in the city. Papa had secretly told her the ones between her fingers and toes were called webbing, and the ones on her ankles and behind her ears were fins, like a fish. She gazed wistfully at the still lake.

“So I thought, since this might be your last chance, that we could go swimming.” Jim tossed Norah a small piece of cloth. “Go get changed. You can’t swim in regular clothes.”

Norah quickly put the new garment on in her tent, feeling self-conscious as she stepped out. The new clothing fit snugly, but her Daddy nodded in approval. “Go slowly. I don’t know how deep it is here.” He walked in the water first, and held out his hands to her. “It’s all right, not too deep. A little cold. Come in.”

Norah dipped her toe into the water. It wasn’t cold; it was wonderful! Already, the itching in her feet had disappeared. Before she changed her mind, Norah leaned forward and let the water swallow her up. Jim’s strong arms pulled her out before she had a chance to really experience the sensation. “What are you trying to do, drown yourself?” he asked, laughing.

Norah shook her head, and watched her father’s grin slide off his face. Her own smile faltered. She looked down and saw the webbing had reappeared, as if by magic, between her fingers. She had no doubt that little fins had sprouted up behind her ears as well. She wriggled free of her father’s grasp and found her footing on the sandy lake bottom. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Nonsense,” Jim said, finding his lost smile. “We both knew that would happen. Now I want you to try to swim.”

Norah had never gone swimming in her life. She wasn’t sure how to go about it. The water felt so good, however, that she just let herself sink underneath again. She pushed with her hands, found she could move much better if she kept her arms by her sides and only used her hands to steer, so she did. To her surprise, she shot out halfway across the lake. Her head broke the surface, and she cried out, “Daddy! I can’t touch the bottom!”

“So?” Jim held himself back from striking out after Norah. She didn’t seem to be in any real difficulty, except for the fact that she had just realized she was over her head. He was amazed at how quickly she had moved in the water. “Swim back!”

Norah’s head disappeared, and before Jim had time to panic, she was beside him again. He watched her float beside him, occasionally flicking her wrists to keep in place. She learned quickly. She was her father’s daughter after all. A part of him had picked this lake because this was the place they had first captured Neistah. He didn’t really know what he had expected. Not the Sprite. He was either long gone or dead by now.

Jim picked his way to shore, leaving Norah to practice ‘swimming’ on her own. He didn’t worry anymore that she would drown. She had taken ‘swimming’ to mean swimming underwater, and after the first few heart-stopping moments when he wondered if she would ever come up for air, he realized she had her father’s lung capacity as well. Her version of swimming was already so much superior to the regular version that Jim didn’t see any reason to teach her otherwise.

When it got too dark to see, Jim insisted she come out of the water. He wrapped her in a large towel he had brought for the purpose, and sat her next to the fire. In the firelight, the delicate fins behind Norah’s ears were clearly visible, and beautiful. They were a part of her, as she’d so ably demonstrated in the water, and it was a shame to have to destroy them. He held out the razor. “You do it.”

Norah took the razor, bit her lip, and ran it deftly up and down the fingers of one hand, then the other, before taking care of the rest of it. She didn’t make a sound. Years of the same treatment had made her resigned, if not immune, to the pain it caused her. Without a word, she handed the razor back to her father.

“You can never swim in front of other people,” Jim said softly, pulling her, towel and all, to lean against him. “They wouldn’t understand how special you are.”

“I know, Daddy. Papa told me already.”

“What? What did Papa say?” Jim silently cursed the old man for his childish fantasies. If he’d told Norah about the Sprite . . . .

“That I was special, but I had to hide my real self in front of ordinary people because they would be jealous, but one day I’ll find my prince and live happily ever after.” She grinned. “Papa thinks I still believe in fairy tales. I know there’s no such thing as fairy tales. Right?” Her eyes gleamed in the dark.

Jim wished he could tell her otherwise. “Right,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t all still live happily ever after. Norah, no matter what you see or hear in the city, remember that we always love you.”

Norah stood, shaking back her hair, which had come undone from its braids. She yawned, remembering that tomorrow they would arrive in Datro. She was excited, and a little scared. “Thank you, Daddy, for this.” She swept her arm up to indicate the dark lake.

Datro was a black smear on the edge of the forest. Dark, squat buildings which belched smoke dominated the horizon. As the wagon cleared the trees, Norah could make out a shiny flat surface on the far side of the city, a river, Daddy called it—a much bigger version of the little stream he used to bring her to when she was small. So much water, and she wasn’t allowed to touch any of it!

She would have dwelled on the unfairness of it, but they had arrived in the city. Their road and several others from different directions all converged into one giant road, filled with horses, wagons, and people on foot. Norah had never seen, or smelled, so many people! They all looked so different. Some scowled, and pushed their way through the crowded street without making eye contact with anyone. Others smiled or nodded, and Norah nodded back, unsure of the correct thing to do.

Jim turned the wagon down a side street, and they traveled in relative silence up a slight incline. “Well, what do you think so far?”

“It’s smelly,” Norah said. “But interesting. Where does Grandfather live?”

“Not around here. His house is up by the factories so he can be close to his work. He runs the factories for your Papa. We’re going there now. I’ll stock up on supplies after we visit for a while. Your grandfather wants to show you the school you’ll be attending in September.”

They had to wait at an intersection while another horse-drawn wagon lumbered by, laden with heavy gray rectangles of something that made Norah’s arms tingle. She watched it dwindle out of sight behind them and almost missed the procession of youngsters who filed quietly by on the side of the road, flanked by two or three older men carrying guns. Norah was familiar with guns. Daddy carried one; so did some of the other guards that sometimes came up to the house to speak with her Papa.

One of the children turned bleak eyes towards her, and Norah blinked. The child’s face was covered in hair. Norah raised her hand to touch her own face as she stared at the child. A guard saw her looking, and cuffed the child on the side of her head. The child quickly looked away and continued walking, as the guard nodded his apologies.

“Daddy, what was wrong with that girl?” she asked, as their wagon left the strange procession behind.

Jim sighed. He hadn’t thought they would be having this conversation so soon. But Norah needed to know, so she would understand. “She’s what they call a mutant,” he said. “She and the others probably work in one of the factories. Some of the children in the cities have—flaws—that make them unsuitable for other kinds of work, but they can still lead productive lives. The factories house them, feed them, and take care of them. You’ll see. Your grandfather employs some of these mutants in his factories, too.”

“What kind of flaws?”

“Nothing too serious. The ones with really serious flaws usually don’t survive much past infancy.” If their parents didn’t kill them outright at birth. “These children might look different, but they’re healthy enough.”

Norah fell silent as she thought about the girl with hair on her face. She hadn’t gotten a good look at any of the other children, but extra hair didn’t seem any worse to her than extra skin. “Daddy, do I have a flaw?” she asked.

Jim scowled. “No, you’re nothing like them. You’re different, that’s all.”

Taken aback by his vehemence, Norah stared out at the soot-blackened buildings. She wondered if mutants lived there. She knew she was different. No one else in her family had webbing like hers, not even Adam. Mama had been so happy when she examined the newborn baby’s hands and feet. Norah wasn’t stupid. She had seen. “That’s why I have to cut off my webbing,” she said quietly, using the word Papa had taught her. That’s what it was. “So people here won’t think I have a flaw.”

“You’re not a mutant,” her father muttered. “But the people here are touchy about the subject. It’s better all around if you keep the webbing trimmed so no one sees it.” He did her the courtesy of using the proper word for it, which made Norah smile just a little.

He pulled the wagon in front of a building which was just as black with soot as the ones surrounding it, but this one was bigger, with wide stone steps which led up to an ornate front entrance. Norah climbed down without waiting for his help, and together they knocked on the big front door. The man who opened it was a stranger to Norah, but Jim greeted him warmly and they were ushered into the darkened foyer.

Norah looked around curiously. Although the outside of the house was unremarkable, the inside could have been their own house out in the country, full of dark woods and polished stairways. “This used to be Papa’s house,” Jim told her, guessing her thoughts. John Hanan had been a ruthless business leader, and then his wife had died, and shortly after, his only daughter had followed, both swallowed up by a sickness that had pervaded even the upper echelons of city life. John Hanan had left Datro then, escaping to his family home in the countryside and his wild fantasies about sprites and magical creatures. His daughter’s husband had been only too happy to stay on in the city, managing the factory, while Hanan took young Miriam every chance he got, raising her on his fanciful stories. One of those fanciful stories had turned up on his doorstep, with Jim’s help, and resulted in this child who stood beside him now.

“Ah, welcome!” Alan Avery strode down the wide staircase, arms out. “I’m so glad you’re here!” He spoke to Norah, who smiled and curtsied like she’d been taught.

“Hello, Grandfather,” she said.

“You’re growing more beautiful by the day, just like your mother. Come, I’ve made up her old room for you. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Jim let Alan lead Norah up the stairs while he went out to take care of the wagon. The two men had business to discuss, but that could wait until later in the evening. He planned to stay overnight at the townhouse, then go on to collect his supplies from various places in the city before heading back. With any luck, he should be at the country house by the end of the week.

Later, they had supper with Alan. “Daddy, you won’t believe it—all Mama’s clothes from when she was a little girl are still in her old room. Some are just my size! Grandfather says I can try them on if I want to!”

Jim’s smile was a little strained. “You can do that after supper while I have a meeting with your grandfather. In fact, why don’t you sleep in Mama’s old room tonight?”

“Oh, could I?” Norah turned to her grandfather, her eyes shining.

“Certainly. Consider it your room now. Tomorrow, I’ll take you on a tour of the factory. And after that, we’ll go look at the school you’ll be attending in September. So why don’t you go up to bed now so the grown-ups can talk?”

“All right!” Still smiling happily, Norah left the two men to their conversation and went upstairs to explore the closets filled with clothes.

After breakfast, Grandfather took Jim and Norah on the promised factory tour. “All this will be yours someday,” he said to Norah. They walked on a narrow way above the main factory floor. Norah held tightly to her daddy’s hand. Below them, workers scurried back and forth, or stood at huge vats as liquid swirled within. The heat was oppressive, and tiny black dots—soot—floated in the air. It wasn’t so bad up where they stood.

“Are those mutants?” Norah asked, spying groups of small people she thought might be children, as they darted in and out between the steaming vats.

Alan looked at her curiously. “Yes, some of them,” he said. “Most of them work in one of our other factories.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Norah asked candidly.

“They aren’t like the rest of us,” her grandfather replied. “Sometimes, in the cities, people are born who aren’t normal. They have things wrong with them that makes them unfit for regular work, so we take them in.”

“Like what?” Norah persisted.

“Oh, it’s hard to say. Like having too many fingers, or hair that grows in the wrong places or not at all, or a tail—“

“A tail?”

“Things that make them different,” her grandfather explained patiently. “You probably haven’t seen much of it, since you live far out in the country. Yet another reason why it’s high time you came to Datro and started school. You need to learn about the rest of the world.”

Norah squeezed her father’s hand a little tighter. “I see,” she said. “Can we go to see the school now?”

They left the smelly factory and got into Grandfather’s wagon, a fancier version of the plain wagon that Jim had brought to carry their goods in. The school consisted of several low buildings on the banks of the river at the other end of Datro. Norah was delighted to be near water, even though she knew she could never go in it. Only the best families were accepted into this school. Ordinary children attended school in the center of the sooty city, and mutant children did not attend school at all.

“You’ll start in the fall. This is where you’ll sleep, along with the other girls.” A caretaker had let them look around, since it was Alan Avery who had requested it. “The boys stay in the house on the far side of the campus. Of course, you’ll stay with me on the weekends.”

Norah nodded slowly. “Thank you, Grandfather,” she replied. “I think I’m going to like it here.” There were a few trees and patches of green lawn to remind her of home, and of course, there was the river.

“I know you will. Once you get used to city life, you’ll love it.”

They headed back to Grandfather’s house, and Norah ran upstairs to collect her things while Daddy went around back to get the wagon. She grabbed her traveling bag and ran down the stairs to say good-bye to Grandfather. He held on to her hand as she walked down the front steps. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Norah.” Something in her grandfather’s voice made Norah look up. “He’s already gone. We decided you’ll stay with me for the summer to get used to city life before school starts. It’s for the best.”

Norah tried not to cry. She was mortified when big tears started to roll down her cheeks. Daddy hadn’t even said good-bye. She let go of her grandfather’s hand and ran to the edge of the street, hoping for a last glimpse of him at least. But her father was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. “Will I ever get to go home?” she asked in a small voice, as she trudged back up the steps to her grandfather.

“I hope one day you’ll come to think of this as your home,” he said, patting her hand. “But of course you’ll go back to visit your parents, maybe next summer. Don’t worry, you’ll be happy here, I promise.”

Jim made good time going through the forest. He didn’t bother taking any detours like he had on the way to Datro with Norah. There was no point in it. He drove to the first rest stop, and surrounded himself with fellow travelers so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had done. It was for Norah’s own good. Even Miriam had agreed at the end.

As he settled down to sleep so he could get an early start in the morning, he listened to the idle chatter of the other wagoners around him. They talked of run-ins with hunters, mostly, in pursuit of real or imagined groups of mutants, and lots of speculation about the mutants themselves. There were legends of entire mutant cities out here in the middle of the forest, but that’s all they were—rumors. Jim used to be a hunter, and he had never come across such a place. The only mutants he had ever caught, with the exception of Neistah, were poor refugees from Datro or some other rim city, who stood little chance against the heavily armed hunters. To hear these wagoners tell it, you’d think there were rabid mutants out there just waiting to waylay unsuspecting humans.

Jim sighed. He almost wished it were true.

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