“Okay, I agree. We should open it. It’s not like the crows can read anyway.”

  Picking up the bottle, my hands shook a little when I unscrewed the lid and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper.

  To the Motlander who finds this letter,

  My name is Wilma Green. I just turned fifteen.

  I’ve always been curious about what it’s like to live on your side of the wall. Will you please answer me? Just put a letter in this bottle and throw it over the wall. I live close by and will check every day, but hurry. In three weeks, I’ll be moving. Not because I want to but because my bridal tournament is coming up. Large warriors will fight to marry me and I’ll have no choice but to move to my new husband’s house.

  Wilma

  A loud gasp escaped me. A child was being married off to one of those large scary men against her will.

  “Nellie, this is awful.” I stared at the wall, which had to be more than forty meters away from me and at least twelve meters high. How had a girl that young thrown a bottle this far? And what was she doing on that side of the wall anyway? Had she been kidnapped? Did she need help?

  Three weeks… How long had the bottle been here? From the look of it, not long.

  I wouldn’t want to be stuck in the Northlands and I could feel my heart race as I reread the letter again. Wilma was the same age as my sister Hannah had been. The thought of her being forced into a marriage made me angry. It confirmed that it was still true: the Northlands was a place with primitive and savage men who abused women.

  I studied the wall that had protected us from them for centuries. In school, we had learned about the awful years that followed after the Toxic War. In 2060 women had taken control of the world after power-hungry men almost annihilated humanity and destroyed most of our planet in that three-year war.

  But not all men had been willing to accept the leadership of our all-female council and they had gathered up north where they fought among themselves for power. It had been a bleak time back then when the brutal men from the North would kidnap women to breed for them.

  My family would have never dared live this close to the border if it hadn’t been for the peace treaty of 2073. Now, sixteen decades later, we still supplied the boys that were needed for the Men of the North to sustain their numbers, but never girls. There were only two possibilities. Either Wilma was a descendant of some of the original unfortunate women who had been kidnapped or caught on the wrong side of the wall, or she had been kidnapped recently and needed help.

  I bent down and picked up a stone, giving it my best throw, but it landed in front of the wall. There was no way I could get an answer back to the girl, unless…

  “Nellie, come on.” With quick steps, I began jogging back to the house while she ran ahead with her tail wagging.

  In the corner of Justin’s room under a pile of his clothes, I found what I was looking for. His slingshot catapult. When I bumped against his bookshelf, a bit of dust fell on my face and made me sneeze. If he had been here, I would have told him to clean his room.

  But he’s not!

  I choked up again as I stood with the catapult in my arms. It was like a portal to memories of Justin glowing with pride when he showed me his project for school. He had made all of us come outside to admire how far he could propel test objects.

  Tears were prickling just behind my eyelids, but I didn’t have time to let my emotions go. Instead, I hurried down the stairs and placed the heavy catapult on the table.

  An answer, I’ve got to write an answer to Wilma.

  In this mess of boxes, I’d no idea where to find paper and I didn’t have time to search. I turned Wilma’s letter in my hand, considering writing on the back side, but no, if she had been kidnapped, I would need this as proof when I alerted the authorities. Opening the old cabinet, I bit my lips as I stared at the five books in there. One was a copy of the first book I’d ever had published. Not that it had sold many copies, but a book was sacred somehow. I couldn’t tear out the last blank page to write on, could I?

  Turning my head, I grabbed for the trash can that I’d filled this morning. One of my old drawings that I’d made for my grandmother as a child was on top. It would have to do. I wrote a quick reply to Wilma’s letter and placed it inside the bottle.

  Making my way back to the border took time, as I had to put down the heavy catapult several times. Once I got there, I was exhausted and decided that the catapult wasn’t coming back with me.

  At least, attaching the bottle was easy.

  “Here we go,” I muttered and stuck my tongue out in concentration. It wouldn’t do to fail, because there was no way I was walking into the no-trespassing zone to retrieve the bottle when there were mines.

  Communicating with someone on the other side of that wall was illegal, but I wanted to find out what Wilma’s situation was before I alerted the authorities about her being caught on the wrong side of the wall. In order to do that, I had to get my message across that wall.

  CHAPTER 3

  Answer from the South

  Tyton

  “I got an answer.” Wilma, my little sister, came running through the garden and grinned from ear to ear.

  “Someone wrote you back?”

  “Yes!” She stopped right in front of me with eyes bright with excitement. “Here, you can read it yourself.”

  Just as I reached for the letter she was holding in her hand, she changed her mind.

  “No, I’ll read it for you.” Her eagerness to share it with me had me amused and I sat down on the large stone behind me.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  Wilma drew in a deep breath and steadied herself, “Okay, here goes.”

  Peace and Prosperity to you, Wilma,

  Are you okay? How did you get to be on that side of the wall? Were you kidnapped or born there? What do you mean that they are forcing you to marry a large warrior against your will? My heart is bleeding for you, but dear Wilma, I will help you escape if you need me to. Just say the word and I’ll alert the authorities.

  I’ll keep an eye out for your answer.

  May you walk on a path of peace, abundance, and enlightenment,

  Devina Baker

  PS: I’m impressed that you can throw a bottle that far. I would have answered you sooner, but I had to use a catapult and it took time.

  Wilma’s eyes met mine. “Isn’t it amazing? I have a friend on the other side of that border and she’s worried about me.”

  “Why would she think that you’re suffering and being forced to marry?”

  “I’m not sure.” She pinched her eyebrows together. “I only said that whoever found my letter would have to hurry with a reply because I’m moving soon. I don’t remember writing anything about being forced to marry, only that I am forced to move from here even though I don’t want to.”

  “Ah, she misunderstood you then.” I reached for the letter and turned it to see a drawing that looked as if made by a child. “And why did she write on this? Don’t they have normal paper over there?”

  “I don’t know, but I can ask her for you. I’m going to write Devina back right away.”

  “You do that, and make sure to tell her that I was the one who threw that bottle.” My hands were dirty from my garden work, so I brushed sweat from my forehead with my forearm.

  Wilma was tall and slim, and she wrinkled her cute nose. “Why? I don’t mind if she thinks I’m strong.”

  When I laughed, my sister made that pout only a youngest daughter spoiled out of her mind can make.

  I shrugged. “Here’s the deal, either you tell her, or I won’t throw your answer over that fucking wall.”

  “Then I’ll build myself a catapult like Devina did. It works for her.”

  Watching her run to the main house of the estate I smiled with amusement, knowing full well that my sister wouldn’t have the patience to look up how to make a catapult, gather the things needed, and actually build the damn thing. She would be back asking for my help in no time.

  Bending down, I picked up more of the heavy stones that I was moving from this back area of the park to the front of the house where my mom wanted a pond with fish in it. I didn’t mind the hard work. As the oldest son in the family, I was responsible for overseeing our massive lands of fields and forests, and I was no stranger to hard physical work. If a fishpond would make my mom happy, I’d make sure she got one.

  “Tyton.” It had only been fifteen minutes since Wilma ran to the house, but her voice was calling out loud and clear.

  “I’m up front,” I called back and kept positioning the stones I had gathered.

  “Oh, there you are.” Wilma held up the bottle. “I wrote my reply and I need you to throw it back over.

  “What happened to the catapult you were going to make?”

  She chewed on her lips. “If you don’t want to do it, I can ask Dad.”

  “No, it’s all right. I’ll do it.” I brushed my hands against each other to rub off the dust from the stones. “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I get to read the letters.”

  Her hand holding the bottle went to her back. “Letters are private, you know.”

  “Did you mention me like I told you to?”

  “Yes.”

  From the way her left foot rubbed against her right shin, I could tell she was lying. I held out my hand. “Show me.”

  With a sigh of protest, Wilma handed me the bottle and just to piss off my impatient little sister, I took my time opening it and pulling out the letter before reading aloud.

  Dear Devina,

  I’m so excited that you got my letter and replied.

  Please don’t worry about me. I’m fine and was lucky enough to be born on the right side of the border. Or at least that’s what my family tells me, but I still wonder what it’s like on your side.

  How old are you?

  Is it true that you hate men and that all women on your side have hair on their chests?

  I’m so curious to hear what it’s like in the Motherlands and I’ve often felt tempted to find a way to climb that wall just to see for myself. I know, it’s a terrible thing to be so curious, but according to my mother, I was born that way, so I can’t help it.

  Here in the Northlands, people are happy. Or at least my family is. Well, except for my sister, Marni, but that’s because her husband, Henry, is an ass. It’s her fault though, since she chose him in her tournament. When I have mine in a few weeks, I’ll choose more carefully.

  I can’t wait for my big day. It feels like, I’ve been waiting my entire life to get married, but I guess that’s because I have.

  What about you? Do you like your husband?

  My other sister, Claire, likes hers, but I think that’s because Lucas is a good kisser. She didn’t tell me so, but I’m smart like that and I’ve seen the way they smile at each other all lovey-dovey. I hope my husband looks at me like that too when we’ve been married for eight years like they have. The weird thing is that they haven’t gotten any children yet. Eight years is a long time to try, don’t you think?

  Write me back and tell me all about the Motherlands. That would make me very happy.

  May you walk on a good road too,

  Wilma

  I tilted my head. “You lied. You didn’t mention me.”

  “Okay, but I’ll do it next time.”

  “No, you’ll tell her now.”

  “Argh, seriously, Tyton, can’t you see I’m in a hurry?”

  “The sooner you add it, the sooner I can get it to Devina.”

  Finding a pen in her pocket, Wilma gestured for me to turn around and then she used my back to write against.

  “Happy now?” she asked and showed me the addition to her letter.

  PS, it wasn’t me who threw the bottle, it was my brother, Tyton, who is very bossy and nosy.

  I cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Sorry, T, but you are.”

  “What do you mean by ‘May you walk on a good road too? That’s a weird thing to write.”

  “I know but that’s what she said in her letter.” Wilma found Devina’s letter and pointed.

  I shook my head, “It says, ‘May you walk on a path of peace, abundance, and enlightenment.’”

  “Yeah, but path and road are kind of the same thing.”

  Shaking my head, I rolled the letter and put it inside the bottle. “Let’s send a letter to the Motherlands, shall we?”

  Wilma gave a small shriek of excitement next to me and half ran to the border wall that was only a five-minute walk from the end of our property line.

  “You have to stand right here. That’s where you threw it the last time.” Wilma pointed.

  “Okay, are you ready?”

  She nodded eagerly. Taking a few steps back, I raised my arm and used my whole body to throw the bottle in an arcing line over the wall.

  Wilma was jumping and clapping next to me with the youthful enthusiasm that made her long brown hair wave around her shoulders. Her beaming smile showed off the small gap between her front teeth that I always found so charming. Her infectious joy was a sharp reminder of how much I’d miss my sister when she moved out in a few weeks.

  “I’ll wait here for an answer,” she declared and sat down.

  “She might not see your message until tomorrow or in a few days.”

  “Of course she will.” Wilma gave me a look that said, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

  An hour later, I was busy with the fishpond when Wilma came storming with a new letter held triumphantly in her hand. “Told you, she’d write me back right away.”

  “I’m impressed. What did she write?”

  This time Wilma didn’t talk about letters being private. She was too eager to share the excitement and began reading aloud again.

  My dearest Wilma,

  I wish I could talk to you in person and make sure that you mean what you say. It’s confusing that you’re contradicting your first plea for help. Is someone reading your letters before you send them?

  For now, let me answer your questions.

  1: I’m twenty-eight.

  2: No, we do not hate men. Why would you think that?

  3: This question made me laugh. I don’t have hair on my chest and neither do any of my friends.

  4: I’m not married and neither should you be if you’re truly only fifteen. I’m crossing my fingers that I misunderstood something because surely it can’t be legal for a child to get married. Marriages here are very rare. Personally, I’ve never met anyone who is married or wants to be, but I’ve read about it in books and know what it means. When you say that you’ll choose more carefully than your sister, what do you mean? What is a tournament exactly?

  Please thank your brother for throwing the bottle over the wall. If you’d like, I can give you instructions on how to build a catapult so you don’t have to rely on a boy for help.

  May you walk on a path of abundance and happiness,

  Devina

  I groaned and snatched the letter from her. “I’m no fucking boy and what’s wrong with you relying on my help? Don’t listen to her.”

  My sister skewed her mouth. “Why would she think I’m a child when I’m fifteen?”

  “Because women are brainwashed on that side of the border. They always have been.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Alerting the Authorities

  Devina

  The small woman in front of me had deep wrinkles and no make-up on. Her shirt was a few sizes too small and she kept pulling at it as if it would somehow make it bigger. “I assure you we have no missing person cases on a fifteen-year-old girl.”

  I pushed the two letters on the table toward her. “Please, Dolores. So maybe Wilma wasn’t kidnapped, but she’s in danger and we need to help her.”

  Clearing her voice, Dolores, the new official representative in our local town, picked up the second letter from Wilma and read it again. I watched her eyes moving from side to side until she lowered her hands and gave me a troubled look. “How do we know this is even written by a girl? What if it’s a man trying to get your attention?”

  “A man?” I hadn’t even considered that possibility.

  “Yes. This could be written by anyone. There’s no way to know.” She handed me the letter back. “Either way, there’s nothing we can do about it since it doesn’t relate to a Motlander.”

  “You’re just going to let a child get married?” My tone was incredulous as I leaned back in my seat with disappointment.

  “We don’t have much choice. I wish I had all the time in the world to investigate your claim because honestly, rescuing a young girl sounds much more exciting than cleaning up after an epidemic. But…” She shrugged.

  “Please, Dolores, couldn’t you speak to a council member and have them negotiate with the ruler of the Northlands?”

  Dolores moved some papers around on her desk. “The Council is under a lot of pressure and now isn’t the right time. Besides, they don’t have any authority in the Northlands.

  “But we could send in someone to help her out, couldn’t we?”

  Three prominent wrinkles formed on Dolores’s forehead as she watched me. “I don’t know which old movies you’ve watched, my dear, but that’s not how we do things these days. As long as the Nmen stick to the peace treaty and keep on their side of the border, we’ll stay on this side and not bother them.”

  When I opened my mouth to speak, she held up a hand and continued, “I’m going to stop you right there because the truth is that we don’t have the skills or the technology to break into foreign territory and rescue anyone. Back when they had hundreds of countries in the world, there might have been a need to spy on each other and get foreign intel, but after the first council got rid of countries and we all adapted to the same language, we haven’t focused on that sort of thing.”

 

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