Free Birthmarked by Caragh M. O'brien Page A

brick archway separated two of them, and beyond, Gaia glimpsed a smaller court’ yard. She was starting in that direction when she heard a cry that made her pause.
    It was the cry of a baby, and the noise keyed directly into Gala’s nervous system, setting her on high alert. She scanned the buildings for the noise, and above the arched arcade she saw a window with a light glowing behind a curtain. The cry subsided, then came once more. An arm reached out of the window and pulled a shutter closed. Gaia listened intently, but then the only noise she could hear was the distant voice of one of the workers while the hammering paused. Unnerved, she pulled her cloak closer around her. That might be a baby she herself had advanced.
    She examined the building, looking for signs that it might be the Nursery, but she judged it was more likely to be a private apartment, like others above the shops of the arcade.
    “It’s okay,” Gaia whispered, calming herself. She was all right so far, but she was impatient to know more about her surroundings. It was daunting to realize how little practical information she had gathered from the Tvaltar specials shed seen. They had focused on celebrations and holidays, when what she could use now was a guidebook with a decent map.
    Gaia drew back farther as the clatter of marching feet approached, and suddenly four guards appeared in the tall, brick archway. They stomped loudly past Gaia, and she saw that in the midst of them was a fifth figure, a man whose hands were tied behind him and who stumbled along on bare feet. They marched toward the massive building at the end of the square and up the shallow stairs to the great door. It opened to admit them, and all five men disappeared inside the Bastion.
    Gaia shivered. She turned again to the archway the guards had come from, and now she was certain the prison lay beyond it. Glancing up, she saw a small tower above and to the right of the arch, its dark angles silhouetted against the ever-brightening sky. If a guard were surveying the square, she would be visible where she stood. Turning sharply to her left, she skirted the edge of the building and circled around to the back. More barred windows met her gaze, and with them her hopes sank. How would she ever get into the prison to see her parents? And worse, how would she ever get them out?
    “Hey! You there!” a voice called.
    She jumped nervously and turned.
    A tall guard was ambling toward her. “What are you selling?”
    “Nothing,” she gasped. “I was just-- “
    “Get along, then. No gawking. You won’t see nothing from here. Come back later at noon, and you’ll get your view.”
    Gaia stepped back a pace. “Yes, Mabrother,” she said. She turned and hurried away, barely noticing her direction in her eagerness to leave him behind. She heard him laugh, and the noise sounded brittle and cold to her ears.
    The sky was becoming gradually lighter, with a tinge of yellow, and more people were coming out into the streets. She kept walking, afraid to stop, afraid to go too far downhill again in case she got lost. Above, people hung out lines of laundry between the buildings, and as she looked down, she marveled to see that everyone wore shoes, even the children. Old or young, everyone looked healthy and well fed.
    Outside the wall, it was common to see someone with a scar or a deformed hand or crutches. But here in the Enclave, where there were no deformities or handicaps of any kind, her scar would seem even more freakish. Anyone who saw it would know she was from the outside, and she walked in perpetual fear that someone would peer closely inside her hood. Once a young boy looked up into her face and pulled the hand of the woman beside him. “Look,” he said, pointing, but by the time his mother turned, Gaia had concealed her scar again.
    By late morning, Gaia had wandered much of the area around the main square. She was thirsty, tired, and afraid. As she saw it, her choices were to seek