SelfSame by Melissa Conway

right, and I’m sorry about that, but it can’t be helped.” He stood up and nodded to Ben. “Take care of her.”
    “I will.”
    Paula didn’t have much to say on the way home. She seemed as stunned as Sorcha. She did point out that a car seemed to be following them, and before they turned onto the private lane to Sorcha’s house, the driver pulled over and parked. The owner of the land across the main road had built and rented out several duplexes. Cars parked along that road all the time, so as long as her ‘protection detail’ kept a low profile, they wouldn’t be conspicuous there.
    Sorcha put her hand on the door handle. “I feel like my life is one unending episode of the Twilight Zone.”
    Paula gave her an encouraging smile. “And I’m over here just privileged to be your side-kick.”
    Sorcha laughed and took a swipe at her, but sobered quickly. “After everything that’s happened, I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight.”
    Paula nodded in the direction of the parked car. “They’re here to keep you safe, remember?”
    Sorcha pressed her lips together.
    “Are they?”
     
     
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    Enid
     
    She woke up face down on the horse again. This time the band of Mohawk were travelling at a good clip, cantering across an open field. She lifted her violently bobbing head to let her captor know she was awake and he responded by shoving her back down and shouting something angrily. His tone told her she’d better not struggle, so she didn’t, even though every hoof striking the ground sent painful shockwaves through her body.
    She consoled herself with the knowledge that even a fit horse couldn’t maintain a canter forever. Sure enough, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably only half an hour, they slowed to a walk.
    The group of men chatted good-naturedly among themselves in their language, which suggested to her they were near the end of their journey even though New York, where Joseph said they were headed, would by her calculations still be several days’ ride south. Another hour or so passed before the sound of children’s laughter and barking dogs reached her. From her upside-down position, she caught glimpses of dark-haired, dark-eyed boys and girls who’d come out to greet the men and were curiously scrutinizing her.
    Joseph had told her they were Mohawk, but the Mohawk homeland was northwest of her village, not south. She wondered who these people really were, and assumed she was about to find out.
    She heard a woman’s voice then, “What is this? Is she to be allowed no dignity among us?”
    The Mohawk brave Enid had ridden with dismounted, and just like the day before, pulled her roughly from his horse. Also like the day before, Enid’s vision faded to black around the edges and she collapsed. She was immediately surrounded by curious dogs, sniffing her warily, some growling a warning. Through the dizzy buzzing in her ears, she heard the woman gasp dramatically and then begin blasting the brave with irate words in another language.
    “Enough!” It was the older man who’d translated the day before. “She is unharmed, and that was the agreement.”
    Enid’s vision slowly returned. She licked her dry lips and looked up, squinting into the sun. The woman shouted at the dogs, and they scattered. Standing before Enid was a slim squaw with white-streaked black braids hanging forward on each side. Beside her worried eyes were deep laugh-lines that spoke of happier times. Enid hadn’t seen her since before her brain was capable of forming permanent memories, but she knew her nonetheless.
    “Mother,” she said. The word was uttered without joy or surprise; Enid was too exhausted for emotion.
    Bluebird fell down onto her knees and threw her arms around her. “E-ee,” she murmured. “My baby.”
    Her mother pulled away just in time: Enid’s back hunched as her mid-section contracted into a tight ball and she vomited the meager contents of her stomach into the