And then came the poisoned river that surrounded the village.
Repentance took a deep breath as the cart pulled onto the barge. A thrill of fear ran through her. She'd finally see what the world looked like on the other side of the river.
It took a half an hour to cross the river. There was no current in the wicked, poisoned water, but it was wide.
Too wide. Repentance had heard tales about villagers who had tried to cross. Their wooden rafts were eaten by the acid in the water long before they could reach the other side.
The barge the slave cart pulled up onto wasn't touching the water. It was hanging over it. And the overlords who ran the barge didn't dip any paddles into the water. They pulled the barge across with pulleys and ropes.
The cart bumped off the barge and Repentance looked around with a sense of disappointment. For some reason she had thought that things would look different on the far side of the river. Maybe it had been the pictures she'd seen in her schoolbooks. She'd imagined that all the world outside her village would be sunny, but even after the river was an hour behind them, all that lay on either side of the road was foggy swamp.
Mud and marsh.
The cart swished along the sandy track, harness leather creaked, and the foggy, fuzzy world slipped by. Exhausted, sorrowful, and lulled by the swaying and swishing, Repentance lay down next to Sober and slept.
Some time later the sun woke her. She groaned and stretched. Every bony place ached from being bumped arou—
The sun! The sky!
Repentance lay still and gazed at the huge blue dome above her. She got dizzy staring at it. Not a wisp of fog. And cool air. She breathed deeply. The pictures of blue skies and sunshine in her schoolbooks didn't come close to the real thing. She sat up, threw her head back, and stretched her arms to embrace the sky.
"Is it worth it?" Sober, sitting behind her, sounded bitter.
She turned. One side of his face was swollen and purple. She dropped her hands and bowed her head. He couldn't understand. She didn't really understand it herself, but she somehow felt as if she'd been made for the sunshine and the crisp, cool air. "I think I might have died if I'd stayed in the swamp," she whispered.
"Well, how nice that you have escaped then. How nice for you."
Anger flared, making her cheeks hot. "I didn't do this so I could escape that Providence-forsaken swamp. I would have stayed forever under those drizzling trees if I could have. Do you think I would have hurt my sister, simply because I wanted to see the sun?"
"I didn't think it yesterday, obviously. But today? Yes, I think you're capable of the most harsh and unfeeling acts."
Her anger melted into a messy puddle of shame under his reproach. "I'm sorry, Sober. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't know my father was negotiating with you. If I'd known I would have told him I was never going to button and breed. By the time I found out it was too late for you. All the other button girls were taken." She looked him steadily in the eye. She owed him an explanation. "Since the day the overlords took my brother, Tribulation, I've been glad to know that all the boys in the village thought I was cursed. I was sure none of them would button me, and that was fine with me. I couldn't bear to button and breed sons to be given to the overlords. How was I to know you would pay over beads for me? I never expected any such thing."
"You have destroyed my family and yours. You've—" he choked on his words. "You've killed my mother, probably." He turned sideways, leaned back, and closed his eyes as if the sight of her was more than he was willing to bear.
He didn't want to talk to her? Fine! Then she wouldn't bother telling him what she knew about his mother.
But no. He wasn't to blame any more than she was. They were both trapped by the overlords. She looked at Sober's swollen face and winced. He should hate the overlords, not her. They were the ones who hit his mother. They were the ones who ran the slave carts. But she didn't blame him for his anger. "Your mother lives," she said.
Sober twitched but didn't open his eyes.
"My father came in the night and told me she would heal."
No answer.
While she'd slept the sandy track they'd set out on had been replaced by a hard-packed roadway, which wound up a mountain.
As sick and sorrowful as Repentance was, she couldn't keep herself from looking at the world she'd so long wondered about.
Meadows full of wildflowers, in vivid reds and blues and purples, lined both sides of the road. Repentance had never seen so much color at one time. Here and there trees gathered in small clumps, splashing puddles of shadow across the grassy slopes. Oh, Providence was good after all. He had not made an ugly world. He had made beauty and light. In such a world, even Repentance might learn to be content.
The sun was not quite at the top of the sky when buildings came into view. Barns made of tan and red stone squatted behind a low stone wall. In corrals outside the barns, horses nodded and snorted as the cart rolled past. One, a comical, knob-kneed colt, shied and tripped over his own gangly legs. Repentance couldn't stop smiling. How her little brothers would laugh at the baby horses wobbling about. And Comfort ... oh, how Comfort, with her artist's soul,
