Franny Billingsley - The Robber Girl

A DAGGER IS MEANT FOR STABBING . It is meant for killing. A dagger has two sharp edges and goes down to a point. If you have a good dagger, the blade is made of iron mixed with carbon. If theres no carbon, it will be too soft. If theres too much carbon, it will be too brittle.

I had a good dagger. A robber girl needs a good dagger.

Im the best dagger, said the dagger.

Youre the best dagger, I said.

We matched each other, my dagger and I. We were not too soft, we were not too brittle. I hadnt stabbed anyone yet, but I would. The dagger had stabbed lots of people.

More than you can count, said the dagger.

Not more. I could count as high as there were numbers. I could count as low as there were numbers. I could count down to zero.

Yesterday had been Day One. Today was Day Zero. The important part of Day Zero had already started. Wed left the hideout and were riding through the ravine. The path tilted up, the cliffs leaned in on us. Here the horses had to walk in a single line. Later we would have to be quiet, but not yet. Stones went rattling down the path. Hoofbeats and stone falls echoed between the cliffs. The stone was gray, but later, when we had to be quiet, the stone would be pink. It was a long way up to the top of the world, where the stone turned pink.

Here the world was small, the stone walls pressing at us, breathing their damp ancient breath. First in line was Gentleman Jack. He was always first, the ribbons fluttering from his horses mane, the yellow gloves on his hands.

Primrose. That was the color of Gentleman Jacks gloves.

I came next. Yellow ribbons fluttered from my pintos mane, but they were regular yellow, not primrose. Primrose was just for Gentleman Jack.

Then came Rough Ricky. No gloves, no ribbons. Just the web of scars on his hands and face. We always came first: Gentleman Jack, then me, then Rough Ricky. The rest of the Gentlemen came behind us, but the three of us were always first.

And me, said the dagger. Dont forget about me!

I would never forget about the dagger.

I have the sharpest point, said the dagger. I have two edges, sharp as death.

The dagger was sharp, I was sharp. Together we were sharp, together we were wild.

Soon the ravine would end and the Plains would begin. In the middle of the Plains rose the Indigo Heart, where there would be gullies to leap and mountains to climb. There would be a thousand-thousand tons of pink stone. Thats what Id been waiting for. Today Id use the dagger. Today Id get my name.

We threaded the horses through the three great stones that hid the ravine. Here the world burst upon us, a sea of yellowed grass poking through the snow, and in the distance, the earth shrugging its shoulders into the mountains of the Indigo Heart. When you stay in the ravine all winter, you begin to think thats all there isthe cliffs, the cave, the river. Its easy to forget that the ravine is buried in the Plains, like a hollow egg.

Today Id get a house.

Its not really your house, said the dagger.

Today Id get a grandmother.

Shes not really your grandmother, said the dagger.

Gentleman Jack, Rough Ricky, and I still rode first, but now we had enough room to fan ourselves into an arrowhead, with Gentleman Jack making the point. The rest of the Gentlemen rode single file behind. They made the shaft of the arrow.

The wind shrieked across the Plains. It smelled of cold and snow. The wind was fast, and we were fast, but we didnt shriek. We were practicing to be quiet. Ahead rose the mountains, pink above the tree line but dark with indigo trees below.

Nothing could go wrong, not on Day Zero. Day Zero was Now. At last Id arrived at Now. Now was a yellow ribbon in a ponys mane. Now was a cascade of lace at Gentleman Jacks wrists. Now was a pair of primrose gloves, with the letters GJR embroidered on the cuffs. Now was the glint of a ruby in Gentleman Jacks ear.

Nothing could go wrong, not when Gentleman Jack, Rough Ricky, and I made the head of the arrow.

I knew we were close when we reached the railroad tracks. It was funny how you couldnt see the Indigo Heart as well when you got close. You couldnt see the mountains, pink against the sky. All you could see were the indigo trees and, minutes later, the red clay road that circled the Heart.

Theres iron in the clay. The dagger knew everything about metal. Thats why its red.

The Indigo Heart was just the way Gentleman Jack had described.

Iron is magnetic, said the dagger.

The dagger was magnetic, too, which meant it would feel the pull of the road. I wasnt expecting to feel it, but I did, just a little tug when we leapt upon the clay.

Theres a bit of iron in blood, said the dagger.

It was like the tug of sleep when it was time to wake up. You could break the tug but you didnt want to.

Magnets are not like sleep, said the dagger.

It would be faster and easier to take the road that went winging up the mountain, but it wasnt safe: someone might see us.

We leapt up the embankment, onto the mountainside. Here, among the indigo trees, the horses slowed, crunching over indigo needles and aspen leaves and pockets of snow. It was winter in the Indigo Heart. The birds were silent; there was just the sound of crunching. The horses wound through the indigos, sidestepped jabs of rock punching through the earth. Above, a hawk sailed in descending spires.

Watch where were going! said the dagger.

The dagger meant both of us had to watch. The dagger was in the sheath at my waist, and it was also in my head. But it could only see what I saw, so if I wasnt watching, it couldnt watch, either.

We have to remember where were going, said the dagger. If something goes wrong, we have to get back to the hideout.

I couldnt remember a time the dagger wasnt in my head, six inches of carbon and iron, reminding me to be wild. If I ever wished for taming things, like more food or a heavier coat, it would press at my thoughts, cool and sharp. Together we had a blade that cut on both sides. Together we had a spear-point tip.

Together we were wild.

The slopes grew steeper and rockier; we crested a rise, and now we had to take the road. That was the dangerous part. Someone might see us.

The road wound up and up, around rocky outcroppings. We went faster now. There was less snow on the road, and fewer rocks and roots to trip us.

This is the road, said Gentleman Jack.

I knew what he meant. This was the road where hed found me, abandoned and left to die.

I dont calculate the coach will be late, said Rough Ricky.

Roads not too soft, said Gentleman Jack. Sometimes you couldnt drive on the roads in the Indigo Heart because they were too deep with mud. Just a little sticky.

We swung around the folds and bends of the cliffs. The sky was low and white, like an overturned eggshell. The land dropped away on the downhill side. We rode between a wall of rock to the left and a plunge into nothing on the right. Sometimes the road narrowed into a lip, pouting round the cliff. It would be easy to swing too far and tumble into the dark.