Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) (48 page)

For the most part, the mercenaries left them alone, but the groups were small enough—and full of enough townies—that Fremont took its own toll. Ten people (three of them children) lost to the biggest pack of demon dogs ever reported. Two killed by yellow snakes on the same day of two different weeks. Five dead in two separate hunting accidents, two of them townies who simply ran off the end of a cliff together.

Still, many people clustered outside our room, waiting hopefully. They sang a birthing song, more noises than words, a round repeating and repeating, including us as the sound washed in the half-open door of our sleeping space. The song gave rhythm to our steps as we
three walked. Liam bounced Caro to the same cadence. Finally, a contraction came so strong it forced me to stop, the pain ripping down my spine.

It passed.

I stood, gasping for air. Paloma handed me a twisted cloth she’d soaked in herbs, and then took Caro from Liam, turning the girl toward us, bouncing her, crooning into Caro’s ear.

Liam stood behind me, looping his arms under my armpits, bracing himself to take my weight.

Kayleen knelt between my legs.

Another pain. I bit down on the cloth, my mouth flooding with redberry and mint, and my scream filling the cloth. I screwed my eyes shut, hearing the song and Paloma’s voice. “Push.”

Pain filled me.

Kayleen called out, “I see the head.”

The pain fell away and my lungs demanded air. I put the cloth into Kayleen’s hand and panted, counting, waiting.

One. Breathe. Pant.

Two. Breathe. Pant.

Three. Breathe. Pant.

Kayleen dipped her fingers in water and held them to my lips, waiting as I licked them dry.

Another wave rose in me and I opened my mouth for the cloth, biting down as the pain took me out of my body. And so it was from somewhere near the ceiling that I heard Kayleen yelp. I slammed back into my body in time to feel the baby’s belly and feet slither from me, free at last.

I barely had time to look down and see the small boy when another roll of pain released the afterbirth. Liam helped me down to my back on soft furs and old bedding, stopping for a moment to stroke my cheek.

I had never felt anything as tender as his hand in that moment.

He leaned down and kissed me, then took Caro so Paloma could wash me. Kayleen knelt and set the babe in my arms, and I looked down at the most perfect face I had ever seen.

Jherrel.

Akashi’s father’s name. A good name.

Liam, Kayleen, and Caro surrounded us. Caro reached out her hand and touched his soft head, making a cooing noise. Jherrel opened his deep blue eyes and regarded her for a moment, and then rested his head softly against my breast.

Paloma opened the door. The song had already quieted. Hunter came through the door, and then Sky and Sasha, and then others, a stream of well-wishers stopping just long enough to smile and feast their eyes on the babies, to nod and wish us well, and go back out, all quiet and full of joy.

This moment was a treasure. For this moment, it did not matter that we were hunted, that we’d lost people we loved, that we had no ripening crops in this last breath of the harvest season.

J
herrel hung in a sling, facing me, his back against Liam’s back. He giggled and waved his arms, showing his heritage. Paloma swore the babies would be talking by the time they were six months, even though two-and-a-half-month-old Caro barely babbled nonsense and four-week-old Jherrel’s claim to fame was having more control of his fingers and hands than Paloma thought was normal.

Behind me, Kayleen carried Caro in a sling across her stomach. She’d inherited Kayleen’s long toes, and Kayleen had wrapped them to keep her side safe from baby-digs.

The early fall sun shone down on us as we headed for late ripening patches of black laceberries on the away-side of the ridge from the Old Road and Artistos. Kayleen pointed at a grove of tall pongaberry trees. “Let’s circle by on our way home.”

“Eth Mo, eth …ba …ba,” Caro babbled. She had Kayleen’s startling blue eyes and Liam’s light hair, and a little turned-up nose that came from neither of them.

Liam laughed softly. I put my fingers to my lips. “Shhhh …someone will hear you.” We were far from Artistos, but I always fretted when the kids were out of the cave. But you couldn’t raise healthy babies encased in stone and bathed in artificial light.

This time of year, Fremont’s predators were still well-fed and unlikely to bother us during the day, so the mercenaries were our worst worries besides tangling in trip-vine or surprising a yellow snake.

They’d been quiet for a week. Which was no excuse for being lax, but today’s perfect light and the trail we chose, mostly covered with trees and near a small stream, combined to make the risk seem small.

Birds sang overhead as we worked our way down the hill. In half an hour we found the first of the laden laceberries, a twenty-meter wall of branches three times our height feasting on a wide patch of sun near a rocky stream. Woody branches sprouted leaves the size of our heads, each leaf a lace, more hole than fiber. The holes were lined with soft furry material that killed insects, and left red welts on human arms. Under each leaf, berries as big as our thumbs and black as the night sky swelled as sunshine poured through the holes in the leaves.

I took the first babysitting turn, sitting in a small, grassy clearing with Jherrel and Caro in my lap. Tent-trees and near-elm rose up behind us, providing reasonable cover from the sky if the invaders’ skimmers patrolled today.

Liam pulled a berry picker—a small metal saw fastened above a woven net—from my pack and Kayleen scrounged a long stick for a handle. After they assembled the gear, they wrapped their hands in brain-tanned djuri hide, then stopped by to menace Caro and Jherrel with their newly big hands. Caro laughed, and Jherrel ignored the whole thing, snuggling toward my breast.

Liam and Kayleen each leaned down for a kiss from me. “Watch carefully.”

I patted my pocket, where my own first laser gun rested, the one Jenna gave me years ago. “I’ll scream if I need anything.”

They went to work. I narrated softly for the babies. “See Dad twist the basket, see how he braces as the heavy berries fall. Your mom will hold out her basket, now, and he’ll pour his into hers and then start again.”

After catching four bunches of berries and missing one, Kayleen headed over to drop her prizes into our big basket. Their night-black skins stretched tight, ready to burst free and drip juice and seeds. I popped one into my mouth. “Mmmmmm…” Caro held up her little plump hand. I handed one to her and said, “berry.”

She squished it between her fingers so juice dripped on the ground.
I smiled at Kayleen. “If all the berries are that big, we won’t have room for pongaberries.”

She grinned. “We’ll eat some.”

Kayleen waved her leather-coated hands at the kids and me, and went back to take a fresh load of berries from Liam.

After three more loads, sweat covered Kayleen’s face and her arms shook as she dropped her heavy load. “Ready to trade?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Next trip.”

They’d started just in front of us, but now Kayleen had a ten-meter walk down the wall of berry bushes to get back to Liam.

Caro’s eyes fastened on something behind me. “Oo! Oo!”

I shifted Jherrel’s weight in my arms and turned to see what fascinated her so.

At the edge of the clearing, five pairs of boots.

I looked up.

Lushia and Ghita, their two companion strongs, and a man I didn’t know, but recognized as a Wind Reader from the half-vacant stare he gave me.

I clutched Jherrel tightly to me, covering his head and his neck, trying to bury him inside my body.

How many more were nearby that I couldn’t see?

I couldn’t reach my laser gun, but there was no point in it. Not with at least five against one.

The strongs and the Wind Reader peered over my head, undoubtedly watching Liam and Kayleen. Lushia looked down on me with what seemed like pity. Ghita’s eyes and face might have been formed from chiseled ice. Even though she made no overt move toward me, I flinched away, looking back over my shoulder. Liam’s arms were buried in vine, his face obscured by a huge leaf. Kayleen watched him, basket ready.

I screamed. “Run!”

They did. Toward me.

Jherrel twisted in my arms, fighting being held so tightly. I yelled, “No! Stay free!”

Kayleen kept coming, not hesitating at all, but Liam grabbed her by the shoulder, arresting her forward motion. I held my breath, expecting more perfect people in tunics to leap out and grab them. But
none did, and Kayleen and Liam disappeared from sight, their picking wand lying askew on the ground, the black berries spilling onto the path like drops of blood.

I turned back to Ghita and Lushia, struggling to keep hold of Jherrel and gather Caro to me all in one motion. I looked up at the still silent five in front of me. “What do you want?”

“Hostages,” Ghita said.

My thoughts raced. Hostages for what? Not the children! “Take me!”

Ghita glanced at the empty path in front of us. “And leave these two children alone in the wilds of Fremont?”

Well no. But surely Kayleen and Liam would get help. Would think of something. We had an ear set with us, in my ear. Shaking, I made as if to brush hair from my eyes and activated it, which would alert a listener.

How to tell people not to speak to me?

I blinked, struggling to think as adrenaline demanded action instead of thought. I managed to gasp out, “Why do you want hostages? You haven’t bothered to talk to us since you took Artistos.”

Ghita laughed.

I grabbed Caro around the waist, pulling her in to me. She settled close to Jherrel, quivering in my arm, looking up at the invaders. “We can talk now. There’s no need for hostages.”

“But you aren’t who we need to talk to,” Ghita said. “You need to talk to the person we need to talk to.”

What? Could I stand and run? Where did Kayleen and Liam go? People back in the cave knew we had gone to pick berries. They knew, in general, where we were. My voice shook as I looked at Lushia instead of Ghita. She had always seemed the kinder and the less intractable. How could she do this? “I don’t understand.” I struggled to stand and keep both kids with me, one tucked at each side of my waist. “Why did you come for me?”

“We didn’t.”

One of the strongs, the woman, stepped in close to me, smelling like skimmer and spices I didn’t recognize. I struggled to remember her name. “Kaal?”

Her eyes lit for a second, then she pursed her lips and nodded.

“Kaal. What are you doing?”

She reached out and put her hands around Caro’s wide little waist, pulling the baby toward her. Caro twisted a hand in my hair, pulling my head toward Kaal. “Then take me too,” I called out, holding Caro’s little hand, not caring that she had fisted a thick bunch of my hair. “Take me, too.”

Kaal jerked Caro to her, tearing her hands free of my hair. Regret and compassion flashed through her eyes briefly before they turned cold again. She stood back, a smooth even movement, holding little Caro. Caro stopped moving, looked back and forth from me to Kaal, then screeched disapproval.

The male strong stepped in, reaching for Jherrel, and I turned, racing away, struggling to protect at least one child. Adrenaline surged. I tucked low, Jherrel held in close to me, my right arm a sling for him. Three steps. Three more. Sticks crunched under my feet. My right foot caught on rock, throwing my balance off. I jerked sideways, staying up, barely, but losing forward momentum.

And that was all it took.

The male strong reached out and grabbed my free arm with a grip that could have torn the arm free if kept moving. “Don’t take him, no, no!…”

But he did, plucking him from me easily.

The strong walked back to the group and I followed behind, thinking furiously. We needed help. I spoke softly into the earset. “Don’t talk to me. They took the babies, both of them. I’m following. I can’t tell if they want me, too, but I won’t let the babies go.”

The strong jogged slowly ahead of me, not even looking back. I could dig out my laser gun, but there were five of them. Ghita, Lushia, and the Wind Reader all wore belts with what must be weapons on them. “We’re just over the ridge. They’re heading back the way we all came. Maybe you can cut us off.”

Then the group of strangers turned away from me and began walking. I ran after them, catching up, taking Caro’s outstretched hand. Lushia was on the other side of Kaal, who held Caro. “I’m coming with you,” I said.

Lushia shook her head. “You have something else to do.”

I felt hollow, like in the middle of a nightmare when it’s impossible
to wake up. “What?” What had they done? What could matter more than the babies?

Kaal sped up, and Caro’s hand slipped from mine. Lushia smiled, as if playing with my emotions brought her great pleasure. “You have someone to talk to.”

“Give me my babies,” I demanded, struggling to keep up with them as they jogged up a narrow path. Branches slapped at my face, leaving marks. It didn’t matter. “Lushia!”

She turned and looked down at me, her red hair haloing her face so that for a second she reminded me of Nava. “We won’t hurt them. They’ll be safe in the
Dawnforce
when you’re ready to talk to us.”

“I’ll talk to you now. About anything.”

In answer, Lushia plucked Caro from Kaal’s arms. She nodded at me. “Hold her.”

“No!” I screamed. Kaal’s arms closed around me and she planted her feet and stood still in the center of the path. Caro stretched her arms out toward me again and then broke out in sobs.

My body was stuck fast in Kaal’s casual embrace. I head-butted her, again, and again, kicking with my feet. Kaal ignored it all.

The little procession turned a corner and I lost sight of Jherrel and Caro and my heart split, forcing a keening wail from my throat. Anger followed the wail, hot and full of adrenaline and need. I turned to Kaal, speaking through clenched teeth. “If you hurt them I will kill you myself.”