The Invasion of the Tearling

Dorian grasped Jonathan’s waist, leaving Lily to take the legs. Together, they heaved the body off the table, balancing it carefully on their shoulders. Lily could smell the corpse now, a hint of decay that seeped right through the sheet, but she ignored it, thinking of Jonathan, who had thought she was worth saving, who would never see the better world. Her eyes watered, and she wiped at them savagely, stinging her corneas, as they started up the stairs.

On deck, everything was quiet except for the waves lapping gently at the sides of the ship. In the moonlight Lily could just glimpse the other ships on either side of them, not too far off, keeping pace. In the end, only seventeen of them had made it through; three were lost, sunk forever in Hudson Bay. From overheard conversations, Lily knew that not all of the ships were packed with people, like this one. One ship carried livestock: cows, sheep, and goats. Another carried horses. Still another ship, its boards bleached nearly white, was carrying medical supplies and personnel. But all Lily could see now were the sails, little more than faint gleams under the dying moon.

They carried Jonathan to the rear of the ship, a place where few people chose to sleep, because the rigging blocked the view of the eastern horizon. At Tear’s direction, they balanced the body carefully on the railing. Lily’s arms ached, but she gave no sign of it. The burn on her palm had broken open again, oozing pus, but she hid that as well, surreptitiously blotting it on her jeans. She wished she had some clean clothes. She hadn’t showered in days. Other people were still wearing the same outfits as the night they’d launched; what would they do for clothing in the new world? There were so many uncertainties, and the only man who could answer them was Tear … but now wasn’t the time. Beyond the helm, the eastern sky was turning pale, but when Lily peeked over the railing at the stern, she could see nothing but darkness.

“Jonathan hated the water,” Dorian remarked hoarsely, and Lily realized that she was crying again. “After what they did to him. He fucking hated it.”

“Not this water,” Tear replied.

Lily said nothing. They had known Jonathan well, both of them, and she had never even learned his last name. She wanted to think of something to say, something important, but when she closed her eyes all she could see was Greg on his knees, Jonathan holding the pistol to his head. That was the greatest kindness anyone had ever done for Lily, but it wasn’t an act she could tell Tear and Dorian about. So she remained silent, though tears had begun to work their way slowly down her cheeks.

“Well, old friend,” Tear finally said, “we’re off to a good land. Let’s hope you’re already there.”

“Amen, South Carolina,” Dorian added, and then, by unspoken consent, they lifted the body over the railing. Lily didn’t help this time, only stood back. There was a muted splash, and then Jonathan was gone forever. Dorian waited another moment, then left without a word, walking quickly toward the stairs.

I killed him, Lily thought.

“It was his choice,” Tear repeated, making Lily wonder if she’d actually spoken out loud. She looked around, but they were still alone at the stern.

“What happened? Where did we go?”

“Nowhere, Lily. We crossed, that’s all. That’s how I’ve always thought of it.”

“Is it–” Lily forced herself to bring out the word. “Is it magic?”

“Magic,” Tear repeated. “I never thought of it that way; to me it seems the most natural thing in the world. But maybe magic is a good word.”

He reached into his pocket and came up with something clenched in his fist. “Have a look.”

Lily held out her uninjured hand and felt him drop something cold and hard into her palm. She held it up, squinting, trying to make it out. The sky had lightened now, in the sudden way it did just before dawn, but it still took Lily a few moments to identify the object.

“Aquamarine?”

“Sapphire,” Tear replied. “My family tree is documented all the way back to Cromwell, but that jewel has been with us since the Dark Ages. Maybe even further back than that.”

Lily held the sapphire to the light, trying to see through it, but the sun hadn’t appeared yet, and it was only a dark rectangle against the pale sky. “How do you know?”

“It told me.”

Lily snorted, but Tear hadn’t cracked so much as a smile. She couldn’t tell whether he was joking, so she handed the sapphire back and leaned over the railing, staring down at the dim lines of white left in the ship’s wake.

“Are you healing, Lily?”