Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) (40 page)

Of course. Jenna had taught us to enter and leave from the top because the front way in, the way we brought in
Burning Void
,
had traps in it. “So the cave recognizes the
Burning Void?
”

“Yes.” Kayleen didn’t miss a beat, or a breath.

I could feel the run, a slow burn deep in my lungs.

“Are you connected to their data now?” Liam asked.

“No. I think we’re just too far away.”

We loped by bare rocky cliffs, the dark slashes of crevices making a mosaic. Triangles and circles of trees blurred the top of the cliffs, black against the dark sky. The part of me that chose to start this fight resurfaced, strong and capable and asking questions I didn’t want to know the answer to. I would have to get used to her. The old one was as dead as Windy. “Did we damage the
Dawnforce
?” I asked. “How many people did we kill?”

Kayleen answered. “I don’t know what we did to the ship. If anything. There were three people in the skimmer that turned over. They
all died.” Her voice was flat, shocked. “Another one died in one of the explosions, and two were wounded. The dogs killed one and hurt two. Not Lushia or Ghita.”

She ran on, silent, and I waited, sensing there was more. Eventually, she said, “They killed all of the dogs. They’re ruthless.”

She meant about Windy, too. Not a good thing for her to dwell on. “How about if you get Paloma, and Liam and I wake Tom and Nava? You can bring Paloma to their house.”

“I want to stay together.”

We fell silent again. Five dead out of fifty, if Ghita had told me the truth. Ten percent. There were a few thousand people in Artistos now, but the Islans had far better technology. Our parents had lost a war with similar odds, and the Islans seemed to know that. So they were forewarned that Artistos would fight them.

I smiled to myself. It was actually more uneven. We were here to help. It would be okay.

Sure it would.

We rounded the last switchback and picked up speed down the long straightaway into Little Lace Park. Just before the park, the boundary bells rang friendly entrance.

I wanted to cry with relief. We were home.

We stopped for breath and water just inside the boundary. Leaning over the fence, we watched the Lace River run below, moonlight brightening the ripples of water over rocks. A fish jumped, the rings of its fall cutting across the dark water.

“Hello the trail,” a familiar voice called out.

“Hey Stile,” Liam called. “Keeping a watch these days?”

A medium-sized man with dark hair and one damaged arm turned toward us. “Come back from the dead, are you?” He came up to Liam and slapped him on the back with his good arm. He stopped in front of me, grinning. “Was that you flying in? Gianna’s had us watching for something, but no one told me it was you.”

“Maybe they didn’t know.” A high, nervous laugh escaped Kayleen’s lips.

He glanced at her, and then at me, noticing our bellies. He gave Liam a look that might have been approval. Hard to tell, but I didn’t like it—it was a thing between men that didn’t include us.

Nevertheless, I leaned in and gave Stile a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. It was just so damned good to see another friendly face.

He returned my hug, holding me tight but releasing me quickly. I told him, “Yes, that was us. About an hour ago. And Gianna should be scared. There’s others on Islandia.”

He stepped back a bit and frowned, then nodded. “That’s why the town’s black.” He touched his hand to his ear and I noticed the dark dot of an earset. “I’ll warn Nava you’re coming.”

“Will you come down with us?” I asked.

“Nava’d kill me if I left the boundary unprotected.”

Liam nodded. “As well she should. It’s real, Stile. Don’t doubt it. Go ahead and guard.”

Stile inclined his head respectfully. “Glad to have you back, young Liam. We’d heard you all left, and some said you were never coming back, like when Joseph and Alicia and Jenna left. Some said you abandoned us, but I thought you wouldn’t have, not after you stayed when the other ship flew away.” He paused, scratching his head and looking around. “Step carefully—the town is scared and not everyone loves you.” He turned to look back up the path we’d come down. “It’s a sad day when the boundary bells aren’t enough for Artistos. I’ll tell them you’re coming.”

We left him standing there, watching the trail we’d come down and talking into his earset.

Kayleen broke into a jog again, then sped up. We followed, running free along the well-worn path, past the place where the roamer wagons set up for Story Night, and into the edge of town. Moving fast was awesome—the wind in my face, my hair behind me, my legs pumping, my breath hard and quick. I pulled out ahead of both of them for a few long meters, then Liam caught me, then Kayleen caught us all, passing us, turning her head and staring back at us.

We slowed, moving quietly as we passed Commons Park. I’d never seen the town so dark except during a storm. Shadows moved against a few windows, and far off, a hebra called, but otherwise, Artistos might as well have been a ghost town.

We arrived at Paloma’s without passing a soul on the road. Kayleen pushed the door open, walking into the darkened house and calling out, “Mom,” in a loud whisper.

Paloma emerged from her storeroom, holding a flashlight beam down, so her face was all shadows. As usual, the scent of drying herbs followed her. “Kayleen? Baby.” She looked around, and must have recognized us even in the near-darkness. A long sigh escaped her lips. “Chelo. Liam. I’m so glad to see you.” She stepped up next to Kayleen, putting a hand to her daughter’s face. “Are you okay? Where were you?”

She looked down at Kayleen’s rounded stomach and fell silent. Then she put a hand out and touched it. She looked at Liam, then me, blinking as if we’d told her it was dusk at the crack of dawn.

Kayleen moaned softly into the dark quiet. “I’ll explain later.” She reached for Paloma, drawing her into an embrace. “I’m not sure any of us are okay. We just got back from Islandia, and we need to talk to the Town Council. There’s people over there that want to kill you, kill us.” She paused a moment, collecting herself. “I want you to go with me to talk to Council.”

This didn’t surprise Paloma as much as Kayleen’s pregnancy. “I’d hoped Gianna was making up monsters.” She pushed back from her daughter. “But she wasn’t, was she?”

Liam stepped forward. “No, she wasn’t. Can you come with us now?”

“Let me put away a few things.” Paloma turned back into her office, leaving us in the darkness. Rustling and small clanks accompanied swings of the light, and then she came back out. “Let’s go.”

We headed up the street toward my old house, where Joseph and I had lived with Steven and Therese before they died. After that, Nava and Tom took over as the colony’s leaders and moved in, keeping us with them, as if we were furniture that went with the house.

I could have found my way to that house of sweet and bitter memories in complete darkness.

The house sat near the edge of town, surrounded by trees that heralded the near edge of the Lace Forest. The Lace River ran in front of and below the house, in a deep channel carved by years of winter-melt water. Faint light showed inside the kitchen, too pale to spill out the windows. Liam knocked.

Nava opened the door. Paloma held her flashlight so Nava could see us, and we could see Nava’s face, as if her pale skin, green eyes,
and long red hair floated alone above the dark. “Stile told me you were back. Come in.” She turned and we four followed her into the kitchen. Two candles burned low on the small table, which held glasses of tea and dried apples. Bowls and spoons left over from dinner sat in the sink and djuri stew cooled in a pot on the stove. The scent of meat, potatoes, and spices hung in the air.

Nava’s round-faced and kind husband, Tom, wiped up the counter by the sink. Hunter sat at the table, looking even older and more emaciated than usual. His eyes were dark pebbles buried in wrinkles. His gnarled hands rested on the table, one of them shaking as if he had no control over it. The other rested quietly. He spoke first, looking at Kayleen. I thought he’d mention our pregnancy, but the first thing he said was, “You left us.”

I chewed on the inside of my mouth. This was Hunter, and he should be admonishing us for being immature idiots or threatening to throw us into jail, not speaking softly to Kayleen. “We came back to warn you, Hunter,” I said. “Artistes is in danger.”

He nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Do you want to call the rest of the High Council?” I asked.

Nava furrowed her brow, glancing at Hunter. “Not now, not at this time of night. We are the War Council, anyway.”

I’d never heard of the War Council.

Hunter said, “We’ll hear you out first.”

Tom bustled about making tea. Nava sat at the table, watching us closely, and Hunter, next to her, closed his eyes, as if he wanted to hear us and not see us. Kayleen and Paloma sat together, Paloma a little behind her daughter since the table was really only designed for six. Liam was between me and Kayleen. Kayleen looked at Hunter, then Nava, then Tom. Then she looked over at us. “I took Chelo and Liam to Islandia. It was my fault we went.” She looked around the table. “I’m sorry.”

Paloma gave a small, unsurprised smile, but Nava’s mouth turned down and she glared disapproval at Kayleen. Tom set four steaming mugs of redberry tea in front of us, and sat down in the seat next to me. He, too, smiled at Kayleen, as if he and Paloma both found something positive in her instant admission. But then, Tom and Paloma always seemed to think alike.

Before anyone could press Kayleen more, I jumped in, telling the story from when we saw the
Dawnforce
, putting in as many details as I could remember about the mercenaries and their ship. Liam added bits I forgot and talked about the diversion he and Kayleen created with the demon dogs and our surprise attack. Kayleen added things she’d learned inside of their nets. Nava or Paloma interrupted from time to time with questions. Hunter kept his eyes closed, and didn’t interrupt at all.

While Kayleen talked, I catalogued the signs of age in all of them: Hunter’s thin, scaly skin marred by age spots, the deep wrinkles that made canyons in his cheeks, the streaks of gray in Paloma’s hair. Even Tom and Nava had developed faint creases around their eyes.

That was another advantage the mercenaries had—more physical energy.

After we told them everything we could, the room fell silent except for the rattle of teacups against the table. Tom brought us bowls of cold stew. I didn’t think I could eat until the bowl was in front of me. I ate. We all did.

When it seemed the silence was about to pop open of its own accord, Nava cleared her throat, looked at the old man next to her, and said, “Hunter?”

Hunter opened his eyes. “You did well.” He looked at me, then Liam, then Kayleen, then back to me. “Are you with us? Can we count on you?”

“Of course we are,” I said.

“We’re here,” Liam said.

Kayleen cleared her throat. Her voice shook. “I will help protect the town. In fact, you need me to. I’m the only one here who can get inside their nets, inside their heads. I’ll have a chance of understanding their plans. But I’ll need my freedom.” She regarded Nava calmly. The fingers of Kayleen’s right hand drummed against her leg. “I will not just take orders anymore.”

Nava looked back at her, her brows drawn together. “Everyone takes orders. Even me, sometimes.”

“Then I want no more orders than anybody else that lives here. If you ask me for things, I’ll probably do them. I mean, I want to help. But I can do things you don’t even know about, and I’ll have to spend
more time on our nets, and we’re a family now.” She looked at Nava as if daring her to respond.

For whatever reason, Nava held her tongue.

Hunter said, “I can see that,” his face showing no emotion at all, as if Kayleen’s words laid a mask over his eyes and lips.

Tom said, “Congratulations,” and the word fell awkwardly between us all.

“Thanks,” I said, my word as flat as Tom’s. They didn’t like it, but they weren’t kicking us out of town for it. At least not today. I could imagine the conversations they’d have after we left.

Kayleen smiled sweetly at Nava, cocking her head, as if she were a five-year-old who hadn’t been after the sugar-wheat cookies. I was afraid she’d say something else, but she just said, “I’d like to go to work on the nets as soon as we’re done.”

Maybe Nava realized she wasn’t going to be able to make Kayleen do anything. “We’d appreciate that.” Her words sounded so sharp that Tom and Paloma both turned their heads and gazed at her, and Hunter lifted a hand, the index finger extended up, as if issuing a warning. Nava just drew her lips tighter. There was a time, right before and right after the New Making had left, when Nava relaxed some about us. Now, there was no trace of anything except resentment and frustration on her face.

Kayleen focused on Hunter. He had led the last war, the only war ever on Fremont. Campfire songs suggested that without Hunter, Artistos would have lost. She stood and walked around the table to where he sat, knelt down in front of him, and took his shaking, thin hand in hers. “Hunter, we’re with you. We are not like these people. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

His lips curled up in a faint smile. “That’s a good thing.”

But when I glanced up at Nava, I could tell she didn’t like the idea of needing us at all.

T
he next day, I rode a dull hebra named Jiko up a thin trail winding through the high, wooded foothills toward Rage and the West Band. Liam rode in front of me, following faint wagon ruts, his bronze skin shining in the sun where his arms poked out of his sleeveless shirt. He’d washed his hair and I’d combed it and braided it carefully.

Kayleen rode next to me, constantly scanning the sky as if she watched for predators. Or skimmers. As if to belie our danger, the bright springlike bloom of the high meadow in summer surrounded us. Way up here, the rich scent of multicolored flowers filled the air, even though the Grass Plains below Artistos were already yellow at the base of the stalks. We rode across a long grassy meadow, heading for trees on the far side. Yellow and white flowers poked above the high green grass and brushed the hebras’ bellies.