Salt by Maurice Gee

and sun, and the clouds and how to read them, and how to read the seasons and the weather. She learned about medicine and her own body, and of cures for sicknesses known to Dwellers but not to humans. She learned to ask questions, endlessly. The only ones Tealeaf would not answer were about herself and the land where her people lived.
    ‘We’re ordinary. We aren’t known for anything special,’ she said.
    ‘But you can speak,’ Pearl said.
    That was the main secret: Tealeaf could speak silently and be heard in someone’s head. Slowly, with great care, over several years, she taught Pearl how to do it – to speak and hear.
    ‘But I could do it right from the start,’ Pearl said. ‘I heard you say: “Take me”.’
    ‘Yes, you could,’ Tealeaf said. It was all she would say. And it was only after several more years that she let Pearl see how she could make people move or hold them still, and then make them forget what they had heard and seen.
    ‘Teach me,’ Pearl demanded.
    ‘When you’re ready,’ Tealeaf said.
    I need to know now, Pearl whispered to herself, looking down at her servant’s sleeping face, so I can help us escape.
    She rose quietly from the bed, stepped over Tealeaf and crossed the room to the door. The pregnant woman was sitting in a chair by the kitchen window, using the light to sew a collar on a shirt. She put down her work, rose to her feet and made as if to curtsey.
    ‘No, please don’t. Don’t do that,’ Pearl said. ‘I’m like you.’
    The woman smiled. ‘Then do my sewing for me. Chop me an onion for the stew.’
    ‘I can’t – I . . .’
    ‘You’re not like me. Please, can I see your hand?’
    Pearl held one out and the woman took it. ‘So soft. Look at mine.’
    ‘Yes. I’m sorry.’
    ‘Who are you?’
    ‘My name is Pearl.’
    The woman smiled. ‘Not Min?’
    ‘No. That was a lie. I’m running away from a marriage I don’t want. To a man who is cruel and old and ugly.’
    ‘What’s his name?’
    ‘Ottmar of Salt.’
    The woman shivered. ‘My husband works in one of his warehouses. He stacks sacks of salt fourteen hours a day. And Ottmar sends orders that they must work harder. Where will you run to?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘You can stay here. We’ll hide you.’
    ‘No, my mother . . .’
    ‘She’s not your mother. I’ve seen her eyes.’
    ‘And I’ve seen yours,’ Tealeaf said from the bedroom door, ‘and I know you’re honest and kind. We’re grateful for your offer, but it would put you in danger – you and your husband. And your child. We have a destination. Tilly – is that your name?’
    ‘How did you know?’
    Tealeaf did not answer. ‘You know who Pearl is and what they’ll do to her if she’s caught. So we’re going – somewhere else. They’ll be hunting us now, but we’ve come this far without being seen and we’ll be gone before it’s dark. When Whips come searching . . .’
    ‘Whips will come?’ Tilly said in fright.
    ‘My father will pay for a search, for his honour. Ottmar too. They’ll go everywhere in the city,’ Pearl said.
    ‘But no one has seen us in this street,’ Tealeaf said. ‘They’ll ask. You’ll say no. Can you do that?’
    ‘Yes,’ Tilly whispered.
    ‘Then you’re safe. Soon it will be dark. If you’ll let us eat some of your stew . . .?’
    ‘I’ve made enough,’ Tilly said. She put two plates on the table.
    ‘No, my dear, three plates. Eat with us, but not so much you can’t eat again with your husband.’
    Tilly served the stew. It was rag-end meat, full of gristle and fat, but Pearl ate because she was hungry. She was thankful there had been no time to put onions in.
    Darkness fell and Tilly lit a candle. Pearl and Tealeaf fetched their bags from the bedroom.
    ‘I have nothing I can give you as a parting gift,’ Tilly said.
    ‘You’re giving us your silence. That’s a gift. And Pearl has a guest gift for you.’
    ‘Yes,’ Pearl said. She felt in her bag and drew out a handful