Stranger (22 page)

“I was thinking of doing that one for the dance.” Ross could tell exactly how easy it hadn't been by the lines of sweat trickling down her face. “What do you think, Ross? Do you think people will like it?”

He couldn't even begin to put into words how much he thought they would. Finally he settled for “Yeah.” Then he added, “I think I'm actually looking forward to the dance now.”

Jennie smiled. “Would you like to go with Mia and me? We talked about it, and we'd both like to go with you.”

“Sure,” Ross spoke before he thought. Thinking about it, he added, “Yeah. I'd like that.”

He wondered how Mia danced. Would she have as much strength and grace as Jennie? Or would she be awkward and shy, like he had been? Either way, it was something he wanted to see. He had an image of himself at the dance with Mia and Jennie beside him, and he almost believed it would happen.

Jennie had trusted him with those fine clothes, and with the first look at her new solo dance. And Mia trusted Jennie. Ross slowly walked to his backpack.

“I have something I'd like to show you. But it could be dangerous to know about it. Do you want to take a look?”

“Yes. Let's see it.” Jennie took the book as carefully as if it was a newborn pup. First she examined the binding, then reverently turned the pages. Unlike Mia, who had focused on the diagrams, she drew her finger down the lines of writing.

To his surprise, she looked at him and laughed. “So all this time, you've been walking around in borrowed clothes with a king's ransom in your pack! No wonder that bounty hunter was so determined.”

“Mia said it's in Japanese.”

“Yes, I think she's right. You could get Yuki Nakamura to read it.” She glanced at him mischievously. “You'll have a perfect opportunity at your riding lesson tomorrow.”

Ross grimaced. “I nearly killed his rat, and I was worthless during the snake attack. I'm sure he's still mad at me. I'll figure it out on my own.”

“It's too bad you and he got off on the wrong foot. I think you have a lot in common.” Before he could protest, she added, “But I won't say a word unless you give me permission.”

“Good.” Now that she knew, he decided to take an even bigger risk. “Can you hide it for me? I don't think the bounty hunter has given up, and he knows where I'm staying.”

Jennie's smile vanished. “Sure. I'll put it in the schoolhouse, up on the rafters. No one ever looks up there, and they wouldn't see it or be able to reach it if they did.” She indicated a diagram. “This looks like an alarm system. We could use—”

The door latch rattled. He lunged for the book, but Jennie was faster, flipping a fold of her skirt over it to hide it.

Tonio burst through the door. “Jennie! Pa wants you right now!”

“Tell him I'm coming.” Ross followed her back to her room, where she hid the book in a drawer, under her clothes.

His hand dropped to the empty loops in his belt, and then he reached toward the daggers in Jennie's closet. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

They ran out, Ross patting the borrowed knives as he kept pace. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do if it was a family crisis. But if it was a wild animal attack, he was set.

They found the rest of the Rileys gathered outside around a sobbing Dee, who was crouched on the dusty ground.

Jennie sat down next to her sister. “Dee? What's the matter?”

Dee lifted her tear-streaked face. “I've Changed.”

“But honey, you wanted to Change.” Jennie put her arm around Dee's shoulders.

“Not like this. I wanted a cool power like yours or Pa's. Look what happened to me!”

She blew on the powdery dirt between her feet. A puff of dust rose up, formed itself into a dust devil no bigger than a man's finger, spun for a moment, and then died.

“That's it?” José exclaimed. “That's pathetic.”

As Dee let out a fresh howl, Mr. Riley said, “José. You do not put down other people's powers. They are a blessing from God, and you know it.”

Dee wailed, “But you only get one blessing. Now I can't get anything good! You can see for miles and Ma can talk to horses and Jennie can grab things and José can make earthquakes and even Tonio can light up dark places, and all I can do is make stupid little dust things!”

“Maybe it'll get stronger, Dee,” José said doubtfully.

Mr. Riley jerked his thumb over his shoulder. José went back inside, followed by the other kids.

Lowering his voice in the hope that only Jennie would hear him, Ross said, “I think I'd better go.”

To his alarm, he only attracted Dee's attention. She lifted her head. “Right, Ross? Isn't this the most useless power you've ever seen?”

He thought about it. “No. I met a guy once who could make little horns grow out of his forehead. Now,
that
was a useless power.”

Dee managed a smile.

Jennie patted her on the arm. “You know, Dee, when I was a toddler, I couldn't lift anything bigger than a pebble. It's like baby steps. José was right. If you keep practicing, you should get stronger.”

“Great,” Dee muttered. “Someday maybe I can make a big dust devil.”

“That would be very useful in a fight.” Her father scooped her up and set her on her feet. “Dee, this is your Change Day, and you know what that means. José and I will get the food ready for your party. Wash your face and invite your friends. And be quick. It's getting dark.”

A sharp twinge in his wrist made Ross realize that he had been rubbing his scar. He didn't want to get stuck at a party full of little girls, but he didn't want to head back to the Lees', either. Since he didn't seem able to sleep, maybe he could try napping in the day, like Mia. That might trick the nightmares into staying away.

“I'll start the pie first,” said Mr. Riley. “What kind do you want?”

Dee scrubbed at her face. “Lemon meringue.”

“I think we've got enough chickens left to round up some egg whites. Lemon meringue it is.”

As Dee scampered back into the house, a tiny dust devil swirled after her, collided with the threshold, and collapsed.

“Baby steps,” said her father.

Mia

MIA PACED ALONG THE IRRIGATION ROWS IN THE
Vardam orchard, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Vardam, and Sujata, all holding lanterns.

Small, deft hands had dug a channel from the east canal, diverting a stream of water into the uncultivated woods along the wall. All around the wet earth of the channel were what looked like baby handprints.

“See, Mia?” Sujata said. “They're stealing our water again!”

They followed the diverted stream into the woods, where it led to a moat crossed by miniature bridges of bundled twigs and sticks. At the center was a typical raccoon city of lean-tos, tree houses, and walkways of swinging vines. Many pairs of red eyes stared at them from within.

“Clever little things,” Mia said. “Isn't it amazing what they can do with nothing but the ability to tie knots?”

“And plan,” Mr. Vardam said. “Plan their devilry.” His chameleon skin had turned black in the dim light.

Mrs. Vardam patted his arm, leaving the brief impression of her brown fingers. “Dear, I think devilry is a bit strong. Mischief.”

“It's devilry if I have to dig it all up.” He swung around. “Mia, can you figure a way to keep them out? I know you've done your best, but this is the third time in six months.”

She was already sifting through ideas, from traps to electrified fences to chemical repellents. Mr. Vardam cleared his throat. “Not sure right now,” she said hastily. “I'll work on it.”

“For every month you keep us raccoon-free, there'll be as much fruit as you and the doctor can use.” Mrs. Vardam held out her hand.

“Deal,” Mia said, sealing it palm to palm. She hoped she wouldn't be faced with apricot–goat cheese kimchi—though if she was, she could always feed it to Ross.

As she walked into her yard, she wondered how the dancing lesson was going. She sat on a tin washtub, checking to see how she felt. What if Jennie and Ross were still dancing? What if they were . . . doing something else?

Mia glared at a chunk of pipe. So what if they were? Did that take anything away from her? She'd watched her classmates fight over who got to date whom, as if the people themselves had no say about it. She'd even seen lifelong friendships break up. Mia had always promised herself that she would never do anything so silly, assuming she ever found anyone she wanted to date who was willing to date her. Anyway, Jennie wouldn't go behind her back.

Mia decided to work on her flamethrower near her window, so she'd see Ross if he walked by. At first she glanced up every few minutes, but then she became absorbed in her work. She was soldering the igniter safety catch when a flicker of movement caught her eye. The front door of the surgery opened, and out walked Ross.

She glanced at her clock. Two a.m. Was he coming to sleep in her yard? She hoped he'd want to talk to her first. She turned off the electrical current and set her tools and flamethrower aside to cool down. But the knock didn't come. She went to the door to look out. Across the square, moonlight glowed pale on Ross's shirt. He was walking away from her, toward the town hall.

Should she go after him? If he'd had a nightmare, would he want company? Maybe he would if he saw her.

Mia hurried after him, debating whether to call out. He didn't seem to notice that anyone was behind him. To her surprise, he walked inside the town hall. No one would be there at this hour, and it had a strong slate ceiling. He wouldn't want to sleep under that. Maybe he'd stashed his book there, instead of giving it to Jennie for safekeeping.

It was dark inside. She felt for the flint beside the door, and lit the lamp. Ross was nowhere to be seen. But the basement door stood open.

That shouldn't be possible. There were only four keys: the sheriff's, the mayor's, Jack's, and her own. She checked; hers was still on her key ring. Then she remembered Ross's lock picks.

The blanket hanging from the old wagon had been thrown back, exposing the open tunnel.

No one was supposed to know about that tunnel but the town council, the council scribe, and Mia herself. It was the most carefully guarded secret of Las Anclas, a means of escape should the town be captured—or a means for an enemy to slip inside, if the secret got out.

Was Ross a thief after all? Was he an agent of Voske's? Maybe the bounty hunter had told the truth.

Horrified, Mia thought,
I offered him guest privilege, and Dad backed me up. Whatever Ross does is our responsibility.

She did not believe it. Did not want to believe it. But she had to know.

Mia descended into the tunnel, ran till she reached the ladder, and climbed up into the mill. She could hear her own heart beating in the silent, empty space. For the first time in her life, she was outside Las Anclas after the gates closed for the night.

If she went out with the lantern, the wall sentries would see her. If Ross was waiting outside with invaders, the sentries would be her allies. But if there was some innocent explanation, she didn't want them involved—and she didn't want anyone to know about the tunnel if she could avoid it.

Mia doused the lantern and waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then she slipped between the rows of corn until she reached the trail that ran along the ridge. Ross was far ahead, a lone figure moving south.

He's running away,
she thought, coming to a halt.
It's all my fault! I made Jennie ask him to the dance with both of us. He'd rather leave everything than go to the dance with me.

Sickened, she watched, uncertain what to do. In the distance, coyotes howled. She was sure he could hold his own with the coyote packs. That was no excuse for running after him and trying to drag him back to a life he clearly didn't want. But those were animals. And what about that bounty hunter? Mia didn't believe he'd really gone. Ross had lost his first fight with the man, and he still couldn't use his left hand effectively. She should at least try to talk him into staying until it healed.

She ran after him. She'd tell him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do. He could go to the dance with anyone. He didn't have to go to the dance at all. She'd never mention the book again. She'd give him back all the diagrams she'd copied from it.

The fire-bright glow of the singing tree brought her to a sudden halt.

He was heading straight toward it.

Mia tucked her head down and ran, shouting, “Ross! Stop!”

He stumbled, swayed, then turned. “Mia?”

“Ross, get out of there!” She started down the slope, skidded on a patch of gravel, and fell. She was fifteen feet from the tree, well within range of the lethal shards. Ross was much closer. She didn't know why the pods hadn't exploded already.

Leaves clashed together, ringing out a final threat. She was too close to get out of range and too far to reach him, but she jumped toward him anyway.

Ross turned from her and lunged at the tree. His fingers spread over the crystalline trunk. The chiming stopped.

Mia gave a sob of relief. “Ross?” Why wasn't she dead? “Get out of there!”

The tree shivered, chimes rising in pitch with the rise of her voice. She froze, watching hm in silent agony. He stood very still, hands and cheek pressed against the tree. Then he whispered, “Back up, Mia. All the way.”

“You're not safe.”

“Yes, I am. Back away. Go up to the road.”

One step at a time, without taking her gaze away from Ross, she climbed back up the slope, until she was twenty-five feet away, and he was the black shadow of a boy against a pillar of crimson light.

Then, while she watched, he too slowly backed away, step by step until he stood next to her, breathing hard.

“I did it. It wanted to hurt you. But I stopped it.” He sounded bewildered. “How did I get here?”

“You walked out. I followed you.”

“I . . . what? The last thing I remember was trying to fall asleep. I dreamed that it called to me.” He began to turn away, but stumbled and nearly fell. Mia caught him by the shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go back.”

For once, he didn't pull away. “Yeah. Let's go.”

As they headed home, she asked, “What happened? How did you stop that thing?”

“I think it's like you said. It's my tree. Those dreams—I think it was trying to talk to me. Trying to get me to talk to it.”

“Talk, how? Aloud?”

He shook his head. He was staring sightlessly up at the sky. She had to steer him to keep him on the path.

“I don't have the words,” he said at last. “I'm so tired.”

“A little farther. Here, between these rows of corn. We don't want the sentries to see us.”

Inside the mill, Mia relit the lantern and led him into the tunnel.

Ross ran his fingers along the dirt walls. “This is amazing.”

“Yes, but you can't tell anyone about it, ever!” she said urgently. “It's the town's last resort, to get the kids out safely if we're ever invaded. How did you even find it?”

“Jack took me into the basement once. That's what prospectors do—find hidden things. I meant to ask you about it.” He yawned again. “I forgot.”

“Well, forget you ever saw it.”

“Okay.”

Back in her cottage, they sat on the floor by her bed, and she poured out hibiscus tea. “You should get Dad to look at you. Make sure you're okay.”

He shook his head, nearly spilling his drink. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled. His head tipped back, and his hand sank toward the floor.

She caught the jar before he could drop it, and put it on the floor. When she straightened up, she found that he was leaning against her, fast asleep. He was warm and his hair was soft against her neck. She stroked his cheek gently, then curled herself into him and closed her eyes.