Stranger (20 page)

Indra caught her arm. “I don't care who hears.” His voice rose angrily. “What do you want, Jennie?”

“I want this to be a private conversation,” she said, her own temper rising. “Like it should have been in the first place.”

“Too late now.” He turned on his heel. “Have fun with your claim jumper.”

He walked away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the road.

Y
UKI

YUKI'S BED JERKED, JOLTING HIM AWAKE. HE CLUTCHED
the mattress, thinking he was at sea. No; it was an earthquake. The windows rattled gently, but nothing fell from his shelves, and Kogatana stayed curled at his feet. It was only a small quake, then. From the dimness of the light, he had some time left to sleep.

Then his mind leaped from memories of tossing on the ocean to the sea caves. This quake might have been the one to jar something loose—something he could prospect.

Moving silently, so as not to awaken his mother or Meredith, he dressed and headed out, Kogatana padding at his heels.

The streets were nearly deserted, silent except for the chirping of crickets and morning birds. Yuki felt as if he had the entire world to himself. But by the time he reached the gate, it had already opened for the farmers and hunters and fishers who started work before dawn. He knew two of the sentries from school, and hurried past before they could ask where he was going. No doubt they'd mention it to their friends, and those friends would tell their friends, and he'd get interrogated by a dozen different people before the end of the day.

The earthquake woke me up,
he rehearsed to himself.
I felt like taking a swim.
Neither of those were lies.

The fishers had long since launched their boats, so he had the beach to himself. He walked along until he reached the sheer cliff pocked with caves, some above water, some submerged. He didn't see any new ones, but you never knew what might lie beneath the waves.

Years before he'd come to Las Anclas, an earthquake had shifted some of the cliff face, revealing an ancient building. But that had been mostly above the waterline, and had long since been picked clean. Other ancient houses must still be buried beneath the tons of stone. He checked the cliffs after every one of the occasional earthquakes but had never found anything but seaweed and mussels.

He stripped down to his swimming trunks, braided and tied up his hair, secured a collecting bag around his waist, and put on the goggles that Mr. Ahmed had made for him.

He patted Kogatana. “Stay.”

Yuki took a deep breath, then dove into the chilly, blue-green water. He swam rapidly along the cliff, scanning the familiar stone walls and avoiding grasping strands of kelp. Phosphorescent fish glimmered in the darker depths, and he dove to avoid an eel wreathed in crackling blue lightning.

The world beneath the waves was both familiar and strange, like an old shirt altered to fit someone else. He'd learned to swim before he could walk, but the environment of the deep ocean was completely different from that of the shoreline. Once, his mouth and nose stuffed full of the oxygen-rich breather moss that the
Taka
had grown in hydroponic tanks, he'd been able to explore for over a quarter hour at a time, but no one around Las Anclas had heard of it, not even the traders who sailed the local coasts. He was limited to the few minutes he could hold his breath.

He was about to surface when he noticed a new crack in the brown rock. He kicked hard. The opening was narrow, but he could squeeze through. He peered at the slice of water illuminated by the pale filtered light. The crack led to a larger space, but all he could see was water with strands of kelp floating in it. No. Not kelp, cords. He'd found a ruin!

Yuki swam up and floated, filling his lungs and thinking. He'd been told to report any new cave and not to explore it alone. But he'd grown up diving deeper than any citizen of Las Anclas; whoever accompanied him would be more likely to get in trouble than he would. Or, worse, they'd forbid him to go in at all—and then he'd lose what could be his first real claim.

This was his cave—in his territory. Anything could be inside.

He took a deep breath, then dove and eeled his way into the crack. Rough stone scraped his chest and belly as he pulled himself through. Then the stone dropped away beneath his hands, and he was in.

It was nothing like the tunnels of stone and coral that he'd explored as a child. This was a labyrinth of fallen walls and tilted staircases, jammed with tattered skeletons of furniture and chunks of rubble, illuminated only by the dim light that filtered in. The dark water was choked with floating cords, bits of cloth, and coiled springs and wires. A few fish were the only living things in sight: until an hour or so ago, this had been a sealed environment.

Excitement tempted him to start exploring. But his old training and discipline held him in place.

Without gravity to orient you, it was easy to swim down when you meant to swim up, or left when you meant to swim right. The few times Yuki had ever seen anyone explore a cave in Las Anclas, they'd used ropes to find their way out. But on the
Taka
they'd warned him that ropes got tangled in wreckage and rocks, trapping divers until their air ran out. Divers could be lured into relying on their ropes rather than on their mental map of their surroundings. But ropes could get broken or bitten through. Ropes killed.

The crack is that way,
he told himself, quickly building a map in his mind.
That way is up. That way is down. That way is away from the crack.

He spotted dishes and machinery amid the rubble, but the ground was covered in a layer of silt; if Yuki disturbed it, visibility could drop to zero in an instant.

Avoiding the hanging wires, he swam around a tilted wall, into darker waters. The pressure in his chest was starting to hurt, but he ignored it. He knew exactly how long he could hold his breath. Then he spotted a glimmer of metal, brighter than the corroded stuff he'd seen before, within the still-upright remains of a broken cabinet. A silver statuette lay partially buried in a mess of rotting wood, slivers of glass, and chunks of brick.

Yuki didn't have much air left. He gently eased out the statuette and tucked it into his bag.

As he began to swim out, he felt a ripple in the water. He turned in time to see the cabinet hit the ground. A huge puff of silt rose up like smoke. Now he could see nothing but swirling darkness.

Fear jolted through him. He shut down the instinct to gasp for breath, and made himself recall his map. He knew where he was. He didn't need to see. He retraced his path, swimming for the crack.

A hard, thin object scraped his leg, then snapped around his ankle and pulled tight, trapping him. He must have put his foot in one of those coils of wire.

Don't panic.

He reached down and untangled himself, his fingers clumsy. He was running low on oxygen, and it was affecting his coordination. He got the wire off, then swam on. Something soft wrapped around his face. Yuki slapped it off. Where was the crack?

He stretched out his hand, and touched a solid wall.

Was he too high, or too low? Or had he gotten turned around entirely? Wild thoughts of trying the other direction raced through his mind.

No. That was how divers died. He would not panic and second-guess himself. He had swum down to retrieve the statuette.

So he swam upward, trailing his fingers along the wall. His head throbbed, and his lungs ached. The impulse to breathe clawed at his throat.

Was he even going up? Or had he gotten so disoriented that he was going down, or sideways? His ears rang, and he knew he wasn't thinking straight.

Then he touched the rough edges of the crack. He pulled himself through, fumbling and clumsy, the pain in his lungs excruciating, until he saw blue light ahead and tumbled out into the open waters. He was kicking his way toward the surface when everything went black.

He woke to the shock of cold air. He sucked in a breath and grabbed for something solid to hold on to. Then he remembered where he was. He floated below the cliffs, sucking air, too dizzy and weak even to be relieved.

Sick fear wrung his entire body. He'd nearly drowned. If he'd blacked out even seconds earlier, he'd have breathed in water before reaching the surface.

Exploring a ruin wasn't like exploring a reef. He'd thought he'd been careful, but he'd missed the signs that should have either told him not to touch the statuette, or how to do it safely.

It was true: prospecting was dangerous.

He made it to shore and stretched full-length on the sand, eyes closed, chest aching. Kogatana scampered up and started licking his face. Gradually strength trickled back into his limbs. Still on his back, he pulled out the treasure that had almost killed him.

It was a dancer poised on one foot, her arms outstretched and her hair coiled around her head, forged of some silvery metal. Yuki examined the absorbed, inward-turned expression on her face, and the finely detailed straps on her shoes. It had to be hundreds and hundreds of years old, and now it was his. He could feel the weight of all those years in his hands, connecting him to its long-dead owner. He or she must have cherished it.

The cave was probably full of treasure, but as with the ancient city with its barrier of crystal trees, there might be no way to reach it. Yuki didn't know enough to dive in the cave safely, but neither did anyone else. He'd rather keep it a secret than have the entire town learn he'd had yet another prospecting disaster. Maybe he'd just tell Paco.

The sun hadn't even risen yet; he'd only been underwater for a few minutes. As he walked home, he wondered if Ross knew how to swim.

Jennie

SERA FACED JENNIE ACROSS THE KITCHEN TABLE. “I
can't tell you how sorry I am.”

Of all the sympathetic comments Jennie had endured since the breakup, this one hurt the worst. Her throat constricted.

“But I have to ask,” Sera said. “Can you maintain discipline around Indra without letting your emotions get in the way?”

“Of course I can,” Jennie said firmly, though her stomach churned. Was she about to be thrown out of the Rangers?

But Sera gave a brisk nod. “I knew it. And Indra says the same. You aren't the first and won't be the last Ranger couple to get in this situation. Training and working the way we do, it's natural for people to pair up. Sometimes it doesn't work.”

“Thanks.” Jennie couldn't help wondering if Sera had ever paired with another Ranger. Rumors had always flown about her and Mr. Preston, including that he was Paco's father. But Sera had never mentioned it, and Mr. Preston didn't treat Paco like a son.

Sera pushed back her graying hair. “It'll be hard for a while, but I think you'll get to be friends again. You were close long before you started dating.”

Jennie smiled. “That's the first thing anyone's said that's actually made me feel better.”

“Good to hear.” Sera slung her rifle over her shoulder and went out.

Before the door could close behind her, Felicité appeared, carrying a basket. The basket handle, Wu Zetian, and Felicité all wore matching spring-green ribbons.

“I'm so, so sorry about you and Indra,” Felicité said earnestly. “You seemed so perfect together. I was taking some scones to Grandma Narayan, and Mother and I decided to pack some for you, too. Pastries won't mend a broken heart, but they're better than nothing, right?”

Jennie forced a smile and a thank-you, feeling more than ever like she was trapped in a supporting role in some awful play.

Felicité didn't leave. Waiting for her cue?

Jennie wondered if she was supposed to invite Felicité to stay. And what? Talk about Indra? She gritted her teeth.

“I'll go deliver the rest.” Felicité patted the basket. “Oh. Daddy wanted me to convey his sympathies, and his disappointment.”

Jennie winced inwardly. She hadn't even thought about how Mr. Preston would react. She felt like she'd let down the entire Ranger team.

Felicité concluded, “But of course your own feelings must come first.” She gave a sad little wave as she left.

It's the hands,
her ma had once said.
People talk more truly with their hands.

Jennie remembered Indra's hands that horrible night, how he'd flexed them, his fingers stiff. Today, Sera's callused hands had gripped and twisted.

Felicité had said all the right things, and her expression had been sympathetic, but her hands had been relaxed, and that pat she'd given the basket had been downright satisfied. She wasn't a bit sorry.

Jennie was tempted to throw the scones on the mulch pile, but that would be a waste of good pastry. They would be delicious; the Wolfes' cook had been hired away from Jack's.

She'd take them to the picnic. Ross would enjoy them.

• • •

Z, Dee, and Nhi ran ahead up the trail, their clear voices blending with the calls of the seagulls. Jennie and Mia followed them, with Ross a few paces behind.

Jennie stepped aside at the top of the bluff. “Ross, meet ocean.”

He didn't seem to hear her. The wind tossed his hair and rippled his shirt, but otherwise he was completely still. The water below sparkled like a million bits of mica, creating new patterns of glittering movement every time Jennie blinked. Toward the shore, wavelets painted white lines across blue-green water; at the horizon, blue-gray water merged with deep-blue sky. A flight of pelicans soared on the sea breeze.

Jennie breathed in the salty air, trying to imagine what it must be like to see the ocean for the first time. From the joy and wonder that illuminated Ross's face, she knew she hadn't even come close. “Worth the trip?” she asked.

Ross started, and she was rewarded with a rare smile. “Yeah, I think it is.”

“Oh, I should have brought you sooner,” said Mia.

The Terrible Three reached the waterline. Z waded in, poking a driftwood stick into the surging tide. Nhi and Dee flung themselves down on the dry sand, and Dee began burying Nhi's feet.

Ross pointed at a hazy gray-brown hump on the horizon. “What's that?”

“Catalina Island,” Mia said.

“Where the Changed people went?”

Mia nodded. Jennie turned away, remembering those ships full of refugees sailing into the empty sea, the Rangers watching to make sure they left. Rangers were sworn to obey, regardless of their personal feelings, but how had they really felt? What would Jennie feel if she was ever ordered to do something like that, to people like herself?

My Change is a gift,
she told herself fiercely.
It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. My Change is a blessing from God.

She reached out with her mind and pulled a bleached stick of driftwood into her hand. Ross flinched.

Jennie's heart sank. How many times had someone whom she'd known her entire life, whom she'd always thought was fine with the Changed, let some comment slip that showed that they weren't fine with it at all?

She whacked the stick against her thigh, and Ross flinched again. Jennie twisted the stick in her hands, hiding her relief. He'd seen her use her power before; he'd only been startled by the sudden movement.

She wanted to apologize, both for doubting him and for making him jump, but that would only make the awkward moment worse. Indra was so easygoing and relaxed, but except when they were sparring, Jennie felt like she had to step very carefully around Ross.

Indra
had
been easygoing.

Z let out a shrill squawk. “Help! Help! It's got me!”

Ross took off like an arrow. Mia and Jennie ran after him.

Z thrashed around in knee-deep water, struggling to escape from a strand of kelp that had seized her arm and was coiling up toward her shoulder.

“What's that?” Ross gasped. Water splashed around his boots.

Z giggled, drawing her knife. With a dramatic slash, she sliced through the kelp and brandished the still-wriggling strand. “Want a belt? It'll keep your pants up nice and tight!”

The Terrible Three fell in a heap on the sand, laughing.

“Let's eat,” Mia said, kicking at the tendrils of kelp groping for her toes.

“What is that stuff?” Ross asked.

Mia took the kelp from Z. “You girls harvest while we set up the picnic. I want a couple thicker strands, too, to take home to my dad for tourniquets. Don't worry,” she said dryly, “we'll rescue you if the big ones get you.” And then, to Ross, “It stays alive in seawater for a week or so. Dad cuts it up fine to use for sutures.”

She opened the picnic basket. Jennie filled the empty jugs with seawater, and the girls dropped in handfuls of writhing strands. Ross hovered, watching.

Jennie pushed the basket toward him. “Would you mind setting out the food?”

She watched covertly as he unwrapped each item. It was like he was opening Christmas presents, and each gift was better than the last.

Finished, he eyed the cliffs like they were yet another present. “What's in those caves?”

“We'll show you!” Dee offered instantly. “After we eat,” she amended, digging in.

“Okay, thanks.” Ross took a huge bite of tamale.

“Have you prospected in caves, Ross?” Z asked, winding a strand of curly hair around a finger.

With what Nhi clearly thought was enormous subtlety, she edged closer to him. “Was it dangerous?”

Mia stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, and Jennie smothered a snicker. Ross kept on eating, oblivious to the girls' flirting, so they took the opportunity to scoot even closer.

A pork bun vanished from between Jennie's fingers. She glanced around. A few squirrels had ventured onto the beach, lured by the picnic, and one of them was nibbling away at her bun. Before she could react, a plum dumpling disappeared from a plate and reappeared in another squirrel's paws.

Jennie threw a handful of sand at them. “Shoo, you thieves!”

The squirrels scampered off, but not before they'd teleported away the last of Felicité's scones. They were welcome to them.

Nhi put her hand on Ross's arm. “Would you like another cinnamon roll?”

He jumped up. “What about those caves?”

Z tugged Dee up. “Let's show him.”

Nhi licked icing from her fingers, then poked Dee. “Hey! Maybe we'll find Princess Cloud!”

Dee shook her head. “I don't think she'd have run this far.”

The girls led Ross toward the caves, sand kicking up behind their heels.

“Who's Princess Cloud?” Mia asked.

“One of our kittens, I think,” said Jennie. “I bet a hawk got it. Well, let Dee think it found another family.”

She watched the trio point out the caves while Ross stayed out of touching distance. Though the bounty hunter had been gone for a few days, the shadows under Ross's eyes had darkened, and while he'd always startled easily, it seemed to take less and less to make him jump. Something was wrong with him, something she wasn't seeing.

“I wanted to ask you.” Mia's next words came out in a rush. “Do you think Ross lied, and he's Changed, like the bounty hunter said?”

“What makes you think that?”

“He might be making me feel things. I mean, mentally controlling me so I feel things.” Mia nervously clicked the beads on her belt abacus.

“What things?”

She snapped her slide rule in and out and in again, then mumbled, “Making me like him.”

Jennie tried not to laugh. “Mia, he doesn't need a Change to do that.”

“I keep catching myself standing at my work table, not doing anything, just thinking about him. That's weird, right?” Before Jennie could reply, she added, “How can you tell if a feeling is real?”

Jennie bent down to avoid her friend's eyes, and picked up a pebble. She tossed it into the ocean, way beyond the waves. Unfortunately, her own feelings didn't get thrown away with it. Now that Mia had brought it up, Jennie had to admit to herself that there had been some truth in Indra's accusation. There was a spark between her and Ross.

But it was so soon after her breakup, she wasn't sure if she wanted to do anything about it. And more important, Mia liked Ross—Mia, who had always wanted to fall in love. Jennie would never respect herself again if she poached Mia's guy.

“Jennie?” Mia asked. “What's love supposed to feel like?”

“I'm still learning myself.”

“No, you're not. You have tons of experience. Compared to me, anyway.” Mia added glumly, “Everyone has tons of experience compared to me.”

“Oh, that's not true. Meredith doesn't either, as she's the first to point out. Anyway, Ma and Pa say that everyone's got their own way of loving. There's no such thing as ‘supposed to.'”

Mia's shoulders relaxed.

“But I do think he likes you,” Jennie added.

“If he does, why did he panic when I mentioned the dance? He actually jumped up and ran away. Like he knew I was about to ask him to go with me.” Her face crumpled unhappily.

Jennie gave her a hug. “I don't think he had any idea. He doesn't know anything about how to be with people. Seriously, from everything he's said, he's only ever been around three people in his entire life, and two of them were trying to kill him.”

Mia didn't even smile. “Yeah, Dad gave me a talk about that. He said I should only approach Ross from the front, and if I want to touch him, I should do it slowly so he can see it. And I shouldn't stand between him and the door.” She glumly dug her fingers into the sand. “Everything I've done with him has been wrong.”

“I don't think so,” Jennie said. “You're the only person who can touch him and not have him pull away or freeze, even if he does flinch at first.”

“You touch him too, when you spar with him. He seems to like that.”

Jennie nodded cautiously. “Maybe the only kind of touching he's used to is fighting practice. But that makes the way he is with you more special, right?”

“Hey, I have an idea—since he likes sparring with you, why don't you teach him to dance? You're so good at it.”

Jennie swept up another stone and tossed it, watching until it splashed into the sea. But when she bent to pick up another, fingers closed around her wrist.

Mia's gaze was intense behind her glasses. “Do you like Ross too?” Jennie hesitated. Mia might not have much experience with boys, but she could read Jennie like a newspaper. Her brows lifted. “You do like him. Why didn't you tell me?”

Jennie had hoped that she would never have to have this conversation, but now that it was actually happening, it was a relief to be honest. “I didn't want to get between you.”

“There isn't any ‘us' to get between.” Mia squared her shoulders. “You can ask him. I bet he won't run away from you.”

“I don't know about that,” Jennie said.

“Of course he'd want to go out with you. Anyone would. You're so pretty and strong and you're good at everything. And you know how to kiss.”

Jennie put up a hand to stop her. “I'm sure he likes you. I'm not so sure what he thinks about me. I mean, besides as a teacher and sparring partner.”

Mia peered down the beach. In the distance, Ross was keeping the Terrible Three out of a half-submerged cave.

She turned back to Jennie. “If Ross likes us both, I wouldn't mind. I mean, because it's you, I wouldn't mind. At least, I think I wouldn't. What do you think? Would that be okay with you?”

Jennie struggled with her own tangle of feelings.