Dawn rose in a spreading arch above the sea, casting its red light over the brooding surface of the dark water. Lucia sat on the deck of the rolling ship, her blanket wrapped around both herself and the child, who sat between her legs, leaning back against her, slumped down in sleep. As the light rose, Lucia could see the land behind them, a thin strip of darkness barely visible above the western horizon. Her initial fear had subsided, the terror she had felt in the moonlight as the ship had crossed the bar and moved out onto the open sea, the water dark and vast, endlessly moving, the sails taut and billowing with the driving power of the wind, the small ship rising and falling with the sea, and the land lost from sight in the darkness.
She and Blue were the only slaves on the ship. There was a place for them to sleep in the hold, but there was no requirement that they stay down there. They could be on the deck, the captain’s mate had told her, so long as they kept out of the way of the sailors. It was better up here, though the wind was cold and blew relentlessly. On deck her stomach did not heave so much with the rolling of the ship and Blue was not so terrified as she had been in the dark closeness of the hold. Blue was finally sleeping now, and that was good. She would awake in daylight and be happy again. The sun would be warm and the sky blue. The sails and ropes would enthrall her, and so would the water splashing by. It was only the nights that were hard for Blue. She was fortunate in that. The ignorance of children protected them from care.
Looking down at the little girl, Lucia stroked her dark hair and then rested a hand on her small, warm head. They were going to Jamaica, the same island where Ana had been sent. Ana would surely be dead after all this time. But Timboe had also been sent there, hardly more than a year ago. Jamaica was a large island, Doll had said. Even though he was probably still alive, she was not likely to see him. Not unless he had escaped to the mountains. She might see him there, in the free towns of the runaway slaves, if she could make her own escape. Though escaping would not be easy. Not with Blue to carry along. But Blue was the reason she would have to try it, no matter what the danger. She would not watch this child grow up into slavery. Not this one. Not Blue Heron’s Mother.
The sky was growing brighter, yellow light chasing away the streaks of red. She turned and looked back toward land. It had vanished. Nothing but water and sky. And so her world was gone. Apalachee. Gone forever. She was alone now, except for this child leaning warm against her. And the Sun. The same dawn here as at the moment of her birth. The Sun would always be with her.
She turned toward the light, blinking her eyes against the growing glare on the water. As the Sun raised her face above the waves, Lucia lifted up her hands and sang softly to greet her.