Stranger (4 page)

“Fall back!” yelled Julio. “They're protecting their nest.”

The patrol ran into the woods. The owls didn't pursue them. They found the horses in a glen, clustered around Fuego.

Belatedly, Yuki reported, “I didn't see anything going on in town.”

“It's probably a false alarm. But let's play it safe.” Julio began pointing at patrollers. “You three stay with the horses. You two come with me. And you . . .” Yuki's elation when Julio pointed to him and Paco dissipated when Julio's finger moved to include Mrs. Callahan.

He sent them to a boulder-strewn promontory. “Keep watch over there. Stay low, and don't create a silhouette for someone to shoot at.”

Yuki sat in a narrow niche between two boulders, the only place that offered both cover and a view of the plains below. He pointed to a smaller promontory higher up. “Kogatana, watch.”

The rat scurried off.

Paco settled down next to him, and Mrs. Callahan plumped herself down on his other side. She wriggled into a comfortable position, shoving him against Paco. Yuki gritted his teeth, embarrassed, then forced himself to relax. He felt Paco vibrate with silent laughter.

“Are you okay?” Paco's breath was warm on his ear. “Your hand is bleeding.”

“It's fine.”

Mrs. Callahan snapped, “What were you thinking, Yuki, sticking your hand into an owl's nest?”

He shrugged and twisted his handkerchief around his palm. How much more of a signal could he send? On the
Taka
, people had often been in tighter quarters than this, but that only made them more mindful of not intruding on each other.

Mrs. Callahan was still going on about Yuki's carelessness, and he tried to shut her out. It wasn't hard, when he could focus on the press of Paco's arm, his body so close that Yuki could inhale his scent of clean sweat.

“That nest was perfectly camouflaged, and he was climbing down,” Paco pointed out. “You wouldn't have seen it either.”

Mrs. Callahan ignored him. “Yuki, you should have sent Kogatana to scout. Isn't that what you have her for? Your problem is that you only make an effort with things that you care about. Take that garden of yours. I saw four giant tomato worms munching away yesterday.”

Yuki pretended to examine the slash across his palm. Of course she'd been watching his garden. Everyone watched everything. If he locked himself in his room, pulled the curtains, and coughed, the next morning three people would offer him honey and lemon juice.

“And dandelions everywhere,” she went on. “Isn't the weeding your—”

“Mrs. Callahan!” When she stopped talking, startled, Paco said, “Thank you for shooting that owl.”

She looked slightly abashed. “Oh, well, don't mention it. Anyone who had their crossbow would have done the same.”

As silence fell, Yuki felt Paco shift his weight. Strong brown fingers took the handkerchief from Yuki's hand, where he'd been twisting and twisting it. Paco untwisted the handkerchief, then rewrapped and tied it securely. “I should have asked,” he said softly. “Sorry. I know you don't like that.”

Yuki shook his head. “I don't mind.”

With Mrs. Callahan listening, he couldn't add,
I don't mind when it's you.

Jennie

JENNIE RILEY PROWLED ALONG THE SENTRY WALK
at the back wall, crossbow loaded and ready. Her neck twinged as she scanned from the golden hills to the east, across the fields of corn and vegetables, to the desert sands that dropped away toward the thin line of the ocean, glimmering silver in the midday sun.

She spotted a wisp of dust rising up, and tensed even more—someone coming around for a flank attack? But it was only a deer, taking advantage of the deserted bean fields to munch on the crops. Except for the honey-birds darting back to their hive in a mesa oak, all else was still.

Though nothing had happened for hours, her muscles were still locked for action. The Rangers said that waiting for battle was harder than fighting. She bet that they were right, but she wouldn't find out today. Even if the Rangers were ordered to ride out, Jennie would stay behind, stuck on the wall. Waiting.

She spotted a rock lying on the sentry walk, ready to trip someone. She held out her hand, tensing slightly as she pulled with her mind. The rock leaped up to smack into her palm, and she tossed it over the wall.

When Lockdown first rang, her blood had fizzed like ginger beer, but after hours' worth of boredom, it had gone flat. So had everyone else's, apparently. All along the wall, people were chatting, wiping sweaty faces, and watching the hawks circling lazily in the sky.

If I were King Voske, this is when I'd attack.

That was the one thing she wouldn't prefer to waiting. One of her grandfathers had been killed when Voske had first tried to take Las Anclas, eighteen years ago. Jennie had been a baby.

She pushed her thoughts in a more cheerful direction—they had a stranger in town, and that was always interesting. Maybe she could interview him for next week's
Heraldo de Las Anclas
. Jennie loved it when Mr. Tsai, the printer and librarian, used one of her stories in the one-page newspaper. “You always manage to find an interesting angle,” he had told her. “Better than the usual ‘Six-Eyed Mutant Goat Spotted by Mill!' or ‘Whistling Zucchini Sprouts in Olive Grove, Dogs Howl!'”

Jennie's little sister Dee appeared, in company with her two best friends. They were on duty to fetch and carry ammunition, but you'd never know it from their bored expressions. The weaver, Ms. Salazar, also looked like she wished she were somewhere else, with her aura of glittering light illuminating how awkwardly she held her bow.

To Jennie's amusement, the Terrible Three arranged themselves in order of height. They were nothing alike—Dee with her hair clipped into a cap of tight black curls, Nhi Tran chewing on a long brown braid, and Z Kabbani flicking a dead leaf from her red-brown bangs—and yet the way they all looked hopefully at Jennie made them seem more similar than different.

“Do you need more arrows?” Dee asked. “I could run and get some.”

“We all could,” Z said.

Nhi nodded so hard that her braids bounced against her skinny body.

Jennie tried not to laugh as she hefted her crossbow. “Not till I've shot some of the ones I have.”

Nhi let out a dramatic sigh. “I thought a Lockdown would be more exciting. But I bet it's exciting where the Rangers are!”

Z said sarcastically, “At their training grounds, waiting for orders?”

Dee poked Jennie in the ribs. “Is that where they are?”

Dee and Nhi fixed her with expectant gazes. Z scowled at the adobe floor as though a secret message was carved into it.

“Probably.” Jennie waited for them to get to the point. In her experience both as a sibling and as the interim teacher, younger sisters were not exactly subtle. Or patient.

Z scowled harder. So she was the one with the problem.

Nhi lifted her chin high. “The day I turn sixteen, I'm going straight to Sera Diaz to say, ‘Captain, I'm ready to start Ranger training.'”

“You better hope you don't Change first,” retorted Z.

Jennie stepped in. “I'm Changed.” A flurry of sparks arose as Ms. Salazar sent a sharp glance her way. “I've been training with the Rangers for two years, and not once have they said anything about it.”

“See?” added Nhi. “Captain Diaz isn't prejudiced.”

Z muttered, “
She
isn't. But everybody knows that Defense Chief Preston is. And he's the Rangers' boss.” She sucked in a breath and glared at Jennie. “I don't see why you have to be a Ranger. You were going to be a teacher. You're good at it. You're the best teacher we ever had.”

Jennie said gently, “That's not very fair to Grandma Wolfe.”

“Grandma Wolfe was boring,” Z informed her toes.

Dee grinned. “It wasn't boring when she set the schoolhouse on fire!”

“Not funny, Dee,” said Jennie.

At first Grandma Wolfe had been able to rush outside when she sensed a hot flash coming, and the uncontrollable new power that had come with her menopause had harmlessly set fallen leaves and tumbleweeds aflame. Then, three months ago, her desk had exploded in a fireball.

No one was hurt, and the kids were thrilled. But by nightfall, Grandma Wolfe—who had taught generations of Las Anclas kids, and loved it—had been moved outside the walls, into the house of nonflammable adobe that had been built generations ago, for a different person with a similar, out-of-control Change. And Jennie had been asked by the council to postpone joining the Rangers and take over teaching until Grandma Wolfe's other apprentice, Laura Hernandez, was ready.

Z sniffed. “Laura is even more boring.”

“I like Laura,” Dee said instantly.

Nhi nodded. “I think those black claws of hers are cool.”

Z crossed her arms. “I didn't say she wasn't nice, or that her claws aren't cool, I said she's boring. And bossy.” She stared accusingly at her friends.

“Laura's only sixteen,” Jennie said quickly. “Give her time.”

“You were never bossy. Anyway, I don't see why you want to be a Ranger when you know Defense Chief Preston hates Changed people.”

Jennie reached beneath her leather armor to pluck at her sweat-soaked shirt, wishing she was with the Rangers. “People change.” She lifted her voice so Ms. Salazar could hear. “And I don't mean in the ‘get powers' way. I may be the only Ranger candidate with a Change power, but Mr. Preston invited me himself. Once Laura's ready to teach, they'll swear me in.”

Z sniffed. “You think so? Look how quick Mr. Preston was to kick his own mother-in-law out of town!”

Jennie kept her voice even. “Grandma Wolfe was not kicked out. She agreed to go. If she ever learns to control her power, she'll be back.”

She let out a sigh of relief when Dee pointed over the wall, shrieking, “Oh! Oh! I see something over there!”

The three rushed to peer recklessly over the shields. The vines groped for their toes, and a tendril that had escaped trimming grabbed Nhi's dangling braid and yanked. They began squealing in mock terror and excitement.

A machete whistled down, slicing off the tendril. Nhi's shriek was entirely real as she jumped back. Jennie grinned up at her boyfriend, Indra Vardam, as he slid his machete back into its sheath.

The heat made her feel grubby and sticky, but Indra's sheen of sweat only made his black hair glisten and his shirt cling to the muscles of his chest and upper arms. She couldn't wait till they were both off-duty. Maybe they could get some time alone at the beach before the sunset bell called everyone back inside the gates.

“Nhi, Z, Dee, get back to your station,” Indra said sternly. But the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave him away.

As Z followed the other two back to the ammo platform, she fired a final, muttered, parting shot: “She only joined the Rangers to be with her boyfriend.”

Indra waited until they were out of earshot, then said, “That would take some doing, considering that we were Ranger candidates for almost two years before we started dating.”

“Z wishes I'd stay as her teacher,” Jennie said. “It's no big deal.”

His glance was searching. “‘But'? Do I hear a ‘but'? You're not regretting your decision, are you?”

“No! I love teaching, but I want to be a Ranger more.”

She wondered if Indra had overheard the part about Changed people. Jennie knew that Indra agreed that the Rangers themselves were more important than whatever prejudices their boss might be harboring. Indra's own father was Changed.

“Glad to hear it.” He sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Not that I'm not glad to see you. Are the Rangers riding out now?”

“Soon.” He shook his head, sending his long braid swinging. Jennie couldn't resist giving it a tug. He grinned. “I came to fetch you. Mr. Preston is sending us out to search for whoever attacked that stranger. He wants you to come with us. We're swearing you in now.”

“Now?” Jennie's uncertainty vanished. “Let's go!”

Indra held out his hand. They ran down the stairway. Then he stopped, leaned against the wall, and glanced up. Jennie followed his gaze, knowing what he was thinking. No nosy little girls were watching. She stepped into the heat of his body and tilted her head back, sending the beads that tipped her braids clattering. He bent to kiss her, then stopped short. His breath was like the lightest of kisses as he whispered, “We can celebrate tonight.”

Jennie pulled him down for a real kiss. His mouth was hot as the sunlight burning down on them. She held him tight, sliding her arms slowly down his back. Then she reluctantly extracted herself. “Tonight.”

“Assuming we're back by then,” Indra added wryly.

She shrugged. She'd be as happy spending the night searching the desert with Indra and the other Rangers, on her very first mission. They could always celebrate later.

As they ran down the dusty street, she thought of a headline: “Former Schoolteacher-Candidate Jennie Riley Appointed Ranger in Emergency Ceremony!” On second thought, that was too long to fit. “What do you think about the headline ‘Surprise Ranger Ceremony Shocks Town!'”

Indra laughed. “If you wait till tomorrow, maybe you can get ‘New Ranger Singlehandedly Captures Bandit Chief!'”

Jennie laughed too.

They skirted a burro pulling a cart full of tomato seedlings, and came to Mia Lee's cottage. Jennie tugged Indra to a halt. “Wait. I have to tell Mia!”

The door was closed, and the curtains were drawn. Jennie knocked, and was disappointed but not surprised when Mia didn't answer. She was either asleep after working all night on a particularly interesting or dangerous project, or she was awake and absorbed in a particularly interesting or dangerous project. Jennie wondered what it could be. Mia had long since stopped staying up all night to work on her flamethrower. But if it was something new, she would have told Jennie what it was.

Or would she? Jennie guiltily counted up how many days it had been since they'd talked. Lately she'd been so busy with Ranger practice and teaching . . .

“I guess I'll tell her later.”

She and Indra hopped a low fence. Grandma Thakrar stuck her head out of the brewery window, calling, “Any news?”

“Not from the back wall,” Jennie replied as she raced by.

They found the defense chief pacing on the town hall's veranda. Along with Jennie's father, Mr. Preston was one of the few people in town so big and imposing that he didn't seem dwarfed by the huge double doors.

He stopped when he saw them. “Sera is on her way.” In a rare note of apology, he added, “I hate to rush you through something so important, Jennie, but rules are rules.”

“I don't mind at all. I'd much rather miss the ceremony than the mission.”

“That's the attitude.” Mr. Preston gave her a friendly clap on the shoulder. “You'll be a fine addition to the team.”

Jennie considered his smile, so bright in his craggy, dark face. She was once again conscious of being the first Changed person invited to join the Rangers since a group of Changed people—including two Rangers—had left Las Anclas ten years ago.

His heavy brows lifted as he added forcefully, “I wish we had two of you, as well as two of Indra. Three! We need every one of you.”

It was like he was trying to convince someone that he accepted her even though she was Changed. Himself, maybe?

“Congratulations, Jennie.” Felicité Wolfe's voice, instantly recognizable, always reminded Jennie of caramel. She stepped daintily up, leading—

“Ma!” Jennie exclaimed.

“I'm so happy for you.” Her mother's puff of graying hair was flecked with hay and horse hair; she must have come straight from the stables. Jennie hugged her.

“I thought you'd like to have your mother here, Jennie,” Felicité said, turning so Jennie's ma could read her lips. “I'm sorry your father couldn't come, but he rode out to guard the pipeline.”

Mr. Preston patted his daughter's shoulder, more gently than the thump he'd given Jennie. “That was very thoughtful, darling.”

“It sure was. Thanks, Felicité,” Jennie said.

“I remembered how important it was for me to have my parents there when I became the town scribe,” said Felicité.

Her pretty rat stood up on her hind legs. Her silk bow matched Felicité's veil, blue as the summer sky. “You wanted to congratulate Jennie too, didn't you, Wu Zetian?” Felicité crooned, twirling her fingers.

The rat dipped her head, bowing. Indra laughed and petted her. Jennie did too, wondering why she felt so sour. Felicité had done her a kindness, but around Felicité and her father, she sometimes felt like she had a fever coming on, as if nothing she heard or saw was quite real.

“Jennie, I am so glad!” Sera Diaz ran up, strong hands outstretched, gray-flecked hair rumpled. Jennie's unease vanished as the Ranger captain enfolded her in a fierce hug. “That is, glad for us, but I'm sorry this is so slapdash. You deserve a full ceremony.”