We Set the Dark on Fire Page 10

But the card she now held in her hand didn’t look exactly like Dani remembered it. Over the top of the king’s pointed crown, an eye had been painted. Below that, in letters almost too small to see, two words: Get free.

  Only someone who had been reading the cards her whole life would have noticed the difference. Sota had been doing his homework.

  Dani sat cross-legged on her bed and slid into the meditative state that her mother said helped you hear what the cards were telling you. The whispers of ancestors long passed, the goddess in the stars; the gods in the clouds, trees, and soil that would guide you toward the truth.

  A person of ambition and intellect. An all-seeing eye. Get free. The whispers were loud enough, even after five years away from home. In order to move forward, Dani would have to be alone—alone enough for La Voz to find her.

  And they would be watching.

  Dani slid the card between her mattress and the frame of her bed, feeling the edge of Sota’s first note when she did. It was a safe enough place for now. Before tonight, it had seemed like such a hard decision. To ruin the life of a girl who had once been friendly to her, or to lie. To walk away from the bargain La Voz had forced her to strike.

  Now, with the card beating the rhythm of her past into the mattress, Dani knew there had never been a choice. Not really. Her mama had read these cards so Dani’s father didn’t go hungry, so Dani herself would be healthy and strong when the time came to leave her family behind.

  La Voz knew where her parents were—Sota had told her as much. And what would happen to them if the government found out who she was? What she was? Dani was guilty of everything that had happened since she left for school, but her parents had been the ones to purchase the forgeries, to smuggle Dani over the border into Polvo when she was just four years old. They had pretended to be just another border-town family for more than a decade now, but the truth was out there. What would happen to them if someone found it?

  Nothing, she told herself. Nothing would happen to them, because Dani would make sure it didn’t. She owed them that much. She owed them so much more. Maybe she didn’t believe Sota could save the starving children across the wall, but it didn’t matter. It had never been about what Dani wanted. How could she have forgotten?

  With the card still whispering to her from below the mattress, Dani closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to all the gods that had protected the outer island. The god of the trees outside the window, the god in the cackling creek down the hidden dirt path. The god in Dani herself, keeping her heart beating strong.

  I’m sorry, she told them, for whatever would become of Jasmín. But she would do what it took to survive. To keep her family safe. It was what she had always done. And if she could earn Mateo’s trust and his confidence, maybe Dani’s role could someday allow her to help Jasmín, if the worst happened. Maybe this one action wouldn’t define her.

  That night, for the first time since the Reyeses’ dinner party, Dani fell into a sound sleep, and didn’t wake until sunrise.

  “Good morning,” Mateo said when she finally made her way to the patio, the sun already three fingers up from the horizon. “I hope you don’t mind, I started without you.”

  The food was already strewn across the table, and Mateo ate carelessly, missing the miracle that was delivered to him every morning on a tray. Maybe it was her decision to betray him, but this morning it took all Dani’s restraint not to remind him of all the privileges he took for granted.

  She sat instead, knowing it was more important than ever that she give him nothing to suspect. “It looks nice,” she said, and he grunted in acknowledgment.

  At least there was one good thing about this morning, Dani thought. If the food was here, that meant she’d already missed Carmen.

  Cheered slightly by the thought, she ate with a Primera’s sharp proficiency, gratified by the thought that she no longer had to reach for the persona that pleased her husband. She was learning. Fitting in. She was belonging.

  But was she glad for her own sake? Or for the sake of what she had to do for La Voz? Already the line was growing blurry.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” said Mateo, looking up from his newspaper. “The kitchen girls are going into the capital tomorrow. You can make a list of anything special you’d like, and they’ll fetch it for you while they’re there.”

  “Like what?” Dani asked, genuinely puzzled. What could she possibly need that wasn’t already in this house? She didn’t even need three-fourths of the things that were in it.

  “Oh, a specific book, a new pen, a dress or shoes for an event.” He chuckled as Dani passed off her judgmental expression for wide-eyed innocence. “If they sell it in the capital, it’s yours for the taking.”

  The anger was back. Dani smiled, layering gratitude over its jagged edges. She wanted to tell him how ungrateful he was for everything he had. How there were people where Dani was born who died for lack of medicine while he was sending kitchen girls to the city for gold pens.

  But how would he even understand? He had only ever left this hill to direct men pointing rifles toward Dani’s home, guarding the land of the wealthy from the land of the cursed.

  “Is everything alright, Daniela?”

  “Of course, señor,” she said. “I was only thinking . . .”

  His expression was attentive, curious, and Dani’s mind was blank. She needed a shade, and fast. The stress of this many secrets was making her careless.

  “Just, speaking of the girls going into the city . . .”

  “Yes?”

  A wick caught in Dani’s mind then, and just in time. A way to solve two problems at once. “Well, why have the staff do it? I certainly wouldn’t mind a trip into the city.”

  Mateo laughed. “Daniela, whatever for? You can take the car whenever you like and see the sights. Why would you want to do servants’ work?”

  “Aren’t you a politico?” she asked, a little more edge in her voice than she should have allowed. “And aren’t I your partner? Shouldn’t we know how the people we serve live, if we hope to represent them well?”

  Her husband’s laugh softened into a strange smile. “That’s quite a revolutionary sentiment, Daniela,” he said, and Dani flinched at the word.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, taking care to smile. “It’s a new world now; we can’t hope to govern it as our parents do, can we?”

  Mateo’s smile turned from amused to thoughtful. They hadn’t yet discussed the presidency, or Mateo’s aspirations, but Dani could tell he heard her talk of governing as belief that he had a chance.

  Whether or not that was true, she could count on his ego to obscure the truth: that she needed to get to a crowded place to meet her La Voz contact.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “It’s not as if you’re going down to those awful border shantytowns or anything extreme. Why shouldn’t we understand the hearts and minds of the capital’s residents? I’m nothing if not progressive, you know.”

  “Of course,” Dani managed. “Have one of the girls deliver the list to my office this evening. I’ll go tomorrow morning, early, and report back. Sound alright?” She stood to leave him, her appetite long gone.

  “Sounds wonderful,” he said with a greedy smile. “So long as you allow José to drive you and accompany you through the streets.”

  Inwardly, Dani groaned. Ditching an escort in her husband’s employ was a nuisance she would have rather avoided. But she would take what she could get.

  “And, Daniela?” called Mateo before Dani could reach the peace of the doorway.

  “Yes?”

  “See that you wear something bright. And tell the other Primeras once you’ve done it. I’d like people to know about this. To know we did it first.” He winked, and Dani couldn’t stomach more than a nod in his direction.

  So, señoras, Dani thought on her way back to her room. I did the most interesting and progressive thing last week. You see, I took the place of one of our house’s kitchen girls to pass i
llegal information about one of our friends to a spy from La Voz! Mateo for president!

  This time, alone in the hallway, she couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

  10

  As a Primera, the causes you choose to champion can cement your position in society. Choose wisely.

  —Medio School for Girls Handbook, 14th edition

  WHEN THE CAPITAL CAME INTO view the next morning, hectic and chaotic as ever, Dani allowed herself a small smile. The car drove in, leaving the quiet and order of the complex behind.

  Today, she wanted the chaos for more than just her own enjoyment: Dani had a plan. She just hoped Sota would be there to see her. Even if it worked, she wouldn’t get much time.

  The list of the day’s errands was short. A nervous girl Dani remembered as Mia had delivered it to her office the evening before, looking utterly puzzled by the new arrangement. Dani wondered if a Primera had ever run a house’s errands before in the history of Medio.

  “We’ll need to hurry today, José,” Dani called up to the front of the car. “I have a desk full of staff schedules, social calendars, and invitations back home.”

  José’s shoulders tensed. The sides of the road were jammed with parked cars and waiting cars for hire, drivers shouting at each other to hurry, move, scoot up. Dani had gambled that the stoic driver would consider himself above rolling the window down to heckle the locals, and she wasn’t disappointed.

  “Can’t we just pull over and leave it idling while we dart in?”

  “No,” he barked, his voice gruff until Dani raised an eyebrow in the rearview mirror to remind him who he was driving. “Apologies, señora,” he said, just as gruff, but not as angry. “But this car is worth more than I am; I won’t leave it unattended.”

  Too easy. “If the car’s so valuable,” Dani said, like she’d just come up with the idea, “why not just stay with it and let me go alone? I won’t be long.”

  He opened his mouth to object, but Dani didn’t give him the chance. “Look, José, I know you’re used to a certain kind of girl, right? Upper-class ladies who can’t find their own way out of a tea party?” Dani could see his cheek lift in a grudging sort of smile. “You know I was born outside the capital.” Just how far outside, she would leave to his imagination. “I grew up throwing elbows in the border marketplaces. I can handle it.”

  “Señor won’t like it,” he grumbled.

  “He wanted progressive,” Dani said with a shrug. “Let’s give him what he wants, huh? That’s what he pays us for.”

  It was bold, brazen even, to speak of herself like the hired help. But it paid off. He chuckled reluctantly and pulled the car over to the side of the crowded street.

  A symphony of horns blared to life behind them. José reached his arm out the driver’s side window and waved them around with a sharp jerk that prompted a harmony of curses over the honking.

  “You’re an odd one,” he said. “Be back in thirty minutes. No elbows.”

  “Surely this list is long enough to warrant an hour?” she asked, wheedling.

  “If you’re not back here in forty-five minutes, I won’t be the only one who’s unhappy about it. Understand?”

  Dani saluted him and pushed her way out of the car quickly, before he could change his mind. The momentary high of victory didn’t last long, however. The marketplace was massive, and she had no idea where Sota would be. If he was even here.

  “Might as well start with the errands,” she mumbled to herself, pulling out the list and choosing an item at random.

  Sweet melons and agave nectar, that should be easy enough, Dani thought, pushing toward the largest produce stall in sight. But when she got there, ready to stand in line with the others, she realized they’d all parted to make room.

  “It’s really alright,” she said, waving them back. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  But they wouldn’t budge. Women with babies wrapped on their backs, barefoot girls around Dani’s age with coins and long lists clutched in sweaty palms. They waited for her to take her place at the front of the line, and eventually she did what they expected just to save them all any more of a wait.

  “Señora!” said the girl behind the counter. “It’s so nice to see you down here; to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  How do they know? Dani wondered. Her forest-green dress was knee length and modest, undoubtedly expensive, but it was nothing so outlandish that it would set her apart. Her face had come from her mother and father, not from the high breeding on top of the hill.

  Finally, the sun caught the face of her watch—Mateo’s gift—and she understood. The band was royal blue and black, and with the silver it completed the Garcia family’s colors. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a brand.

  “Just out doing some shopping for the house!” she said at last, realizing she’d been quiet for too long. People were starting to stare.

  “Has . . . something happened to your market girl, señora?” she asked. “We don’t normally have Primeras doing the shopping!” She giggled, and Dani smiled with her.

  “My husband and I believe in staying in touch with what’s happening outside the gate,” she said, loud enough for the people behind her in line to hear without appearing to perform. “You can get used to seeing me here, and next time I expect you to let me wait in line.” She turned to smile at the people behind her, and to her surprise, most of them were smiling back.

  “That’s a . . . unique approach, señora,” said the girl behind the counter.

  Dani shrugged. “There’s only one way to change things,” she said, hoping it would be the last they had to speak of it.

  It was the same at the book stall, where Mateo had requested a rare volume on the rulers of early Medio, and the textile shop, where Carmen needed a bolt of custom-embroidered linen for the Garcia tailors. The eyebrows went up, the lines melted away, and the stall and shopkeepers fell all over themselves to be helpful.

  The speech she’d delivered at the market stall got more notice at the book stall, and by the time she reached the textile shop, people were already whispering, her reputation preceding her. Mateo had certainly gotten what he wanted today, and if Sota or any other La Voz contacts were in the market, they would know Dani was here.

  And that she was alone.

  By the time the errands were finished, only twenty of her forty-five minutes had elapsed. She slipped her watch into a pocket of her sensible dress before returning to the streets. For the next portion of this adventure, it would be better not to be recognized.

  The orders she’d made would be shipped to the house, so she was unencumbered as she crossed the marketplace purposefully, wanting to put some distance between where she’d made a name for herself and where she’d have to attract Sota’s attention.

  Dani stared too long at everyone with the right height or coloring. Was he a stooped-shouldered boy in rough cotton, haggling over the price of chickens? A vendor of glittering spun sugar in whimsical shapes?

  Most importantly, if he didn’t find her, would he consider it her failure or his own?

  Passing a crushed-ice stall with a hundred flavored syrups, Dani joined the line, and this time no one seemed to recognize her. She rubbed absentmindedly at the place where the watch’s familiar weight was missing; how quickly she’d grown used to it.

  “Excuse me,” came a low voice from behind her. “But you’ve taken my place in line.”

  Dani turned to lock eyes with a girl a little older than herself—tall, leanly muscled, her loose, black pants and close-fitted top giving no indication of her social standing.

  Her eyes were startling, the flat silver of a weathered coin. Dani thought they weren’t a pair of eyes you were likely to forget.

  “Pardon?” she asked, a prickling at the back of her neck telling her this situation was more than met the eye.

  “I said you’ve stolen my place,” the girl repeated, louder now.

  But Dani had been alone at the end of the line, and she knew she hadn’t seen t
he girl. Her heart picked up speed. José had expressly forbidden her from throwing an elbow, but the girl was walking closer now, and the expression in those strange eyes meant business.

  “Listen,” the girl said, her voice low and menacing. People were starting to stare, but the girl was close enough now that they couldn’t hear the words she whispered. “He’s in the women’s washroom near the north entrance. Hurry.”

  Dani locked eyes with her and nodded once, a short, sharp thing. “I don’t want any trouble,” she said for the benefit of the crowd, backing away slowly. “You can have my spot in line, will that solve it? There are plenty of places to buy a shaved ice.”

  “See that you find one,” the wolf-eyed girl said coolly, and turned her back on Dani.

  She had fifteen minutes left, and she wanted to waste as few as possible navigating the busy aisles. The watch was out of the question, so Dani felt herself sliding back into the persona that felt most like herself. The resourceful, scrappy girl from Polvo who could slip through a crowded street festival unnoticed and come back with eyes shining and pockets full of sweets and pennies.

  Elbows pressed reluctantly to her sides, Dani made her way through the crowd like a fish against the tide, the seconds slipping away faster than she liked, her heart racing at the prospect of what she was about to do.

  Treason. The word echoed in every footstep. She’d been approached, yes. She’d already failed to turn in a known member of the country’s most notorious criminal organization. But today would be different. Today, she was willingly passing information about an inner-islander to a criminal. Today, she was a criminal herself, in deed, not just by birth.

  Outside the market’s public washroom, a janitor stooped over a dustpan, and Dani’s heart seized. But before she could panic, he looked up and winked, gesturing through the door before returning to his sweeping.

  Inside, the gray stone of the walls was illuminated by shafts of bright sunlight from high windows. Sota stood in the center of one, his face turned up, a vulpine smirk on his face. “You made it,” he said with a measure of pride.