The Children and the Blood (26 page)

Walking up to it, Jericho undid the lock and then rolled away the gate, stepping aside and gesturing grandiosely for them to continue once he was done. Bus chuckled at the motion.

Ashley swallowed nervously as she followed the others through. Behind her, Jericho refastened the chain and then came after them, letting Carter and Bus lead the way as the grassy path widened and became a dirt strip between the trees. The track twisted erratically, curving to the left for a hundred yards and then turning right without any apparent reason. Laughter filtered through the air and confusedly, Ashley looked to the others, but the men just kept walking as though the serpentine pathway and ghostly sounds were normal.

And then they came around another turn, the track expanded and turned to gravel, and Ashley’s steps faltered.

Log cabins crowded next to mobile homes beneath the trees, and everywhere she looked, birdcages hung. The path branched off into smaller walkways that wound between homes scattered like toy blocks in every available space. Vegetable gardens clustered near each house, and chickens ambled at the edges of the dirt patches. Dogs wandered everywhere, and cats slept on the porches in warm patches of late afternoon light.

And the people. There were so many people, each like the others. Cripples. Dozens upon dozens of them.

Children ran between the houses, filling the air with their laughter. Adults worked around them, hanging laundry, planting in the gardens or repairing their homes. Others sat on their steps, chatting with neighbors. Everywhere she looked, people were living and working as though being secluded in the middle of a forest was the most natural thing in the world.

But then, it probably wasn’t any less natural than being stuck on a farm for eight years and never even thinking of leaving.

With difficulty, she pushed the thought away, the sentiment feeling dark and angry in this bright place.

“Welcome to the Abbey,” Carter said, a corner of his mouth rising in a grin.

She tried to smile, and then jumped as Jericho clapped her on the shoulder. “Come on,” he said, striding past her. “Knowing Magnolia, she’s probably gotten a space set up for you already.”

“His wife,” Bus supplied as he followed the other man.

Uncertain what to think, she started after them, watching the dogs and birdcages. People called greetings and waved to Carter and Bus as they passed, while Spider and the men who took Samson were nowhere to be seen.

“You alright?” Carter asked quietly, falling back to walk by her side.

Feeling overwhelmed, she managed a nod.

“The wizards who hurt your family won’t find you here. And even if they tried, they’d run into a hell of a lot more than they bargained for.”

She hesitated.

“What?” he asked, seeing her expression.

“Blood,” she said uncomfortably. “The man who killed my dad. He was a Blood. The wizards were just working for him.”

He paused. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Carter echoed the motion, but his attention didn’t seem to be with her anymore. They kept walking.

A few hundred feet from the entrance, Jericho left the gravel track and started across a small yard toward a log cabin. Brightly painted cages hung along the porch eaves, and songbirds chirped inside. As they approached, the front door opened and a woman stepped out, a birdseed canister in her hand. Her eyes lit up as she saw them, and swiftly she set down the container. Grabbing up her multicolored skirts, she hurried down the stairs, and embraced Carter and Bus happily.

“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be!” she exclaimed, pushing away from them and grinning. “Knowing Jericho, I figured you’d be talking for hours before he let you get away.”

Her husband gave her a dry look, though it didn’t quite hide his smile.

“And who’s this?” she continued, turning to Ashley.

“Maggie, meet Ashe,” Jericho told her. “Ashe, my wife Magnolia.”

The woman smiled warmly, but after a heartbeat, an understanding look came into her eyes.

“Well, I’ve got about a million things to take care of, so if you guys don’t need anything, how about I show Ashe where we’ve got for her to stay? Melody and her husband have some extra room for the two of you, and Blue’s inside with Samson and Spider, so unless there’s anything else…?” A smile pulled at Magnolia’s lips as the men shook their heads. “Then we’ll see you at dinner.”

The others nodded. Ashley shrugged the bag from her shoulder, handing it to Carter. Bus waved as they walked away.

“Come on, sweetie,” Magnolia said kindly. “Let’s get you settled, eh?”

Before they could reach the door, it swung open and a tousled auburn head popped out. “Momma?” a little girl called, her cheeks flushed pink from running. “Can Spider sleep in my room? She told me I should ask you.”

“Spider’s going to be in Bryony’s room with Samson,” the woman told her carefully. “And Bry is staying with you, remember? We already talked about this.”

Frowning unhappily, the young girl nevertheless nodded and then disappeared back into the house. Magnolia sighed. “My daughter, Peony,” she explained with a smile. “You’ll probably see a lot of her. Or, at least, hear.”

Ashley hesitated. “Did she… um, make all this?” she asked, gesturing to the birdcages and trying to keep her tone casual.

“No, that was me.”

“They’re nice,” Ashley said, feeling stupid for being obscurely relieved.

Simply smiling, Magnolia pushed open the door. Color surrounded them as they came inside. Bright rag rugs carpeted the hardwood floor and rainbow-hued afghans draped the sofa and chairs. Along one wall, a fireplace waited, a multicolored runner on the mantel. Through the open door to her left, she could see half-finished crafts filling the master bedroom, and to her right, hand-painted mugs and bowls of every shade were stacked on the kitchen counter.

Without pausing, the woman led her past the kitchen and into a narrow hallway. From the bedroom at the end, Ashley could hear Peony chatting happily, her voice rarely interrupted by any response. Magnolia cast a frustrated glance down the hall, and then opened a door on her right, revealing a tiny bedroom.

A scrap quilt covered the twin bed and a short dresser sat beneath the window on the far wall. On the floor, a rag rug lay and when she stepped on it, Ashley could feel her feet sink.

“Bathroom is the second door on the left down the hall,” Magnolia told her. “We don’t usually turn on the generator, but if you’d like a hot shower later, just let me know. We can get the water heater going with no trouble. Blankets are in the closet next to the bathroom if you get cold, and if there’s anything else you need and can’t find, feel free to ask, okay?”

Ashley blinked. “Thank you.”

Magnolia smiled. “Our pleasure. And now if you’ll excuse me…” she glanced down the hall again, where Peony was launching into yet another story.

Ashley nodded and the woman disappeared. A moment later, she could hear Magnolia chastising the girl for keeping Samson awake and distracting the doctor.

She turned back to the room. If she stretched out her arms, her fingers would almost reach both walls. But the bed was soft when she sat down, and the blankets seemed like they’d be warm. Homemade curtains draped the window, letting in the late afternoon sunlight. She trailed her hands over the quilt and pillows, feeling as though it’d been a lifetime since she’d last slept on something other than a floor or van seat.

“Hey,” Spider said, leaning her head around the door.

Ashley flinched. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, lost in thoughts she couldn’t recall.

“How’s Samson?” she asked.

The girl paused. “Better. Blue’s still with him.”

Visibly resetting, Spider drew a short breath. “Look, dinner’s not for a couple hours and I don’t know about you, but those fruit cups from the van aren’t quite cutting it. You want to grab something?”

“Okay.”

Spider headed for the door, leaving Ashley to follow.

The main path curved along a slope till it ended at the doors of a multistory building that resembled an enormous version of the log cabins behind her. Massive windows arched over its covered entryway, and a broad green roof blended with the trees. Atop cracked stone stairs, double doors stood and, without hesitation, Spider tugged them open and continued inside.

Shadows surrounded them, broken only by the final bits of sunlight pushing through the windows overhead. A stage was set into the leftmost wall, the curtains closed over it, and a gallery circled the second floor to look down on the one below. In a corner, Ashley spotted Carter engrossed in quiet conversation with Jericho and several other men. They didn’t look up as she and Spider walked by.

Striding down the darkened hall, Spider pushed back the swinging metal door to the kitchen and then abruptly stopped. Coming up behind her, Ashley looked around, confused.

A large man bent over the oven and then drew out a tray of rolls. Turning, he moved to set them on a butcher’s table, when he caught sight of the two of them.

“What do you want?” he said, his tone only making a pretense at civility. He set the tray on the counter, glaring.

“Where’s Belle?” Spider asked.

“Home with a sick kid. You didn’t answer my question.”

Spider paused. Dropping her hand from the door, she stepped into the room. “My friend and I got in a bit ago. We’re just here for something to eat.”

By the doorway, Ashley didn’t move, immobilized by the sudden tension in the air.

“Dinner’s in two hours.”

“I know that,” Spider answered.

A moment passed, and then his mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile. “You all are just something, you know
that
?”

Spider didn’t respond, but her eyes stayed on him as she started toward the tray.

“I told you two hours!” he snapped, moving in front of the food when he saw where she was headed. “I swear, you and the rest just think you’re gods, don’t you? Expecting us to give you whatever you want.” He sneered. “Like I’m supposed to kowtow to you for getting innocent people killed.”

The girl paused. Ashley couldn’t see her breathing.

“But then, your kind don’t care who pays for the trouble you cause,” he said more quietly.

Slowly, Spider walked up to him till she was only inches away. Her hand reached around his wide bulk to come down on two of the rolls.

Despite his smirk, Ashley could see the man tremble.

Food in hand, Spider turned and strode back out the door, handing Ashley one of the rolls as she passed.

“Maybe now that your boyfriend’s dying, you’ll learn how to give a damn,” the man called.

Spider stopped. Everything about her became utterly motionless and suddenly, Ashley felt painfully aware of the guns she knew the girl was carrying.

And then Spider kept walking.

At the end of the hall, the girl turned sharply, heading away from the main entrance toward a side door.

“Where are you going?” she called to Spider uncomfortably.

“To shoot something.”

With an uncertain glance to the entrance, Ashley followed.

The keypad beside the door surrendered to Spider’s rapid jabs, and the stairway behind it emptied into a wide basement, the majority of which was taken up with an improvised firing range. Rags stitched into human silhouettes formed the targets at the far end, and desks that looked like they belonged in an office held stacks of ammunition. Taped to the walls, handwritten signs instructed everyone to use eye gear and earplugs, while piping and metal sheets formed booths where people could stand.

Dropping the roll on the table by the door, Spider strode to the nearest booth, yanked out one of her guns and then emptied it into the center of a target in rapid succession.

The girl exhaled slowly.

Lowering her hands from her ears, Ashley watched her. “You okay?”

Coldly, Spider glanced back, but after a heartbeat, her expressionless stare fractured into a faintly chagrinned smile. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

She set the gun on the ledge and took a breath, closing her eyes. Picking up the weapon again, she walked over to the table and pulled a box of bullets from the roughly organized piles.

“So we know you can fire a gun,” Spider said, eyeing her askance with a touch of humor in her gaze. “How are you on aim?”

Ashley didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Spider said as though she’d answered. She handed Ashley her gun, and then drew the other from the holster beneath her jacket. Checking the boxes again, she pushed one toward Ashley and then quickly showed her how to load the weapon.

“Keep it pointed down and away from you, me and everything, understand?” Spider told her. “And always assume it’s loaded. No matter what. Even if you know it’s not.”

Ashley nodded.

They crossed to the booths, where Spider continued her instruction, showing her how to hold the weapon and stand, and finally allowing her to fire at the targets after ensuring Ashley understood everything she’d said.

Her shots missed entirely.

“You’re milking it,” Spider said when Ashley pulled out her earplugs. “Hard grip, remember? In a fight, you’re going to be crushing that sucker, so get used to it now. Try again.”

Ashley glanced back at the table. “I don’t want to waste your bullets.”

“Blue reloads them for us when he’s not patching people up. It’s fine.”

Not really knowing what that meant, but taking the reassurance at face value, Ashley reloaded the weapon and then fired again.

A few shots hit the target.

She lowered the gun and then tugged the earplugs away, staring at the bullet holes in faint shock. It felt weird, knowing she’d just done that. Shot at something and had it work.

The memory of her father dying suddenly surged back. She set the weapon down sharply, hands trembling. A gun will kill a wizard…

And if she’d had one that night, it would have.

Her eyes found the target again.

“You alright?” Spider asked.

Distantly, she nodded, and then pushed the earplugs back in and fired. The gun clicked at her when the bullets were gone.

She glanced to Spider.