The Thread That Binds the Bones (14 page)

“Could sleep on the floor.”

“You need blankets and stuff. Let’s go talk to Trixie.”

Maggie wiped her eyes with grimy hands, leaving dust streaks like bruises. “Tom, I don’t even have any other clothes, let alone a bath towel. Feel kinda ...”

“Yes,” he said, when her pause lengthened. “Let’s go to the thrift shop. I’ve got thirty dollars in one of my shoes. We can buy you a few things. What did you wear out at the Hollow?”

“They had a big closet with all sorts of clothes in it, all sizes and fashions. It was creepy, as if generations of—of
tanganar
had lived and died and all that was left was their clothes. We picked whatever we wanted.”

Tom studied her Grateful Dead T-shirt, denim jacket, jeans, and red hightops. “Hmm,” he said.

“These weren’t mine,” she said. “Wore mine out, and got too big for them anyway.”

“Hmm. We better rinse off before we leave.” Tom looked down at his own ghostly white clothes. Not a speck of dust on the fabric, and it almost glowed in the dark. “Michael must have made these clothes self-cleaning.”

“Mr. Michael
made
something?”

“From scraps,” said Tom.

“How’d you get him to do that?”

“I think he likes me.”

She cocked her head and surveyed him. “Guess he might. Weird.”

They were scrubbing their hands and faces in the communal sink when Trixie called up the stairs for Tom. He dried his hands on paper towels and headed downstairs, wondering if he had a fare.

Aunt Agatha stood beside Trixie, looking owlish behind her glasses. She had lost what he had come to believe was a perpetual smile.

“Why did you run off?” she asked him before he even stepped off the bottom step.

“What?”

“Why did you run away when I told you to stay? How could you desert your bride? I thought you were a boy with manners. And I told you I wanted you to come to me for training. That wasn’t just a suggestion, boy. That was a decision from your
Arkhos
,”

Trixie, already pale, lost all color. Her eyes widened.

“Can we talk outside?” Tom asked.

“Why? You worried about Mrs. Delarue? She’s fixed to the floor; she won’t bother us.”

“What? What do you mean, fixed to the floor?”

“It’s a tool for difficult negotiations. Mrs. Delarue wasn’t giving me any answers until I used it. You stick their feet down—a power of earth, though others can master it—I wonder if you have it?—it takes all the fight out of them, mostly, and the ones who are still feisty after that, you can step out of range. Come on, Tommy, come home.”

“I don’t belong out there, Aunt Aggie.”

She reached out and stroked his aura, her fingers rippling over it. “What’s this, what’s this?” she demanded, prodding a certain section.

Tom opened his Othersight eyes, and saw that she touched a silvery place he had not noticed before. He analyzed it. “Oh,” he said after a moment. “Peregrine.”

“What?” Her eyes widened behind her glasses. She touched the silver again, then brought her fingers up to her nose and sniffed them. “A Presence uprooted itself?” She frowned. “It seems to me I have heard—” She paced away and came back, then turned away again. “Honored Presence—you desert us? Is it right that this boy leave the Hollow?”

—Will you grant me speech? Peregrine asked.

—You going to say yes to her?

—Yes.

—Go.

“Descendant, the homestead might not survive if the boy stayed there.” Peregrine’s voice, deep and rich, came from Tom’s mouth again. Trixie brought her hands up to cover her mouth.

Agatha looked at Tom a long moment. “Oh,” she said. “Thank you, Ancient. Farewell.” She turned and walked toward the outdoors.

“Aunt Aggie,” Tom said.

Agatha stopped. “I hate nicknames,” she said over her shoulder.

“Aunt Agatha, will you unglue Trixie’s feet?”

She turned around. “What about my niece, anyway? One night, one catch—not that we’re not grateful—but is that it?”

“She’s coming here in the morning. She wants to spend some time with her parents tonight.”

“So she stays lost to us?”

“I don’t think she’ll be so afraid of coming home anymore.”

“Very well.” She waved a hand, and Trixie stumbled, her feet free. Tom caught her, but she shrank from him, even as he watched Agatha rise in the air; he blinked back into Othersight and saw pale waves surge up out of the ground and support Agatha into the sky.

“You’re one of them,” said Trixie, trying to shake his hand off her arm.

“Easiest way to fight ’em,” he said. He released her.

She stood, arms crossed over her chest, her face distrustful. Maggie came down the stairs then. She touched Tom’s arm “Glad you didn’t go back with her,” she said.

“Not a chance—unless Laura needs help.”

“Child ... you knew he was one of them?” Trixie asked.

“That’s how we got loose. He helped me and Eddie break away.” Maggie stepped back, hands on her hips, arms akimbo, and cocked her head, staring at Trixie.

Trixie frowned. “Miss Laura?” she said to Tom.

“My wife. Last night. Kind of a surprise! I didn’t go out there looking for any of this.”

“You’re a cousin or something, though, right?”

“No.”

She squinted at him. “No Bolte features,” she said. “How—?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Yeah. Why this town? Why now? I don’t know. Maybe it’s spirits. That’s what my new mother-in-law seems to think.”

“That thing Agatha talked to—your other voice—is that a ghost?”

“Yeah. One of theirs, and they’re scared of it.” He grinned. “They’re funny. They’re superstitious. They believe everything he says, and I think he’s been lying to them about me since last night.”

“You been possessed by a Bolte ghost, Tommy?”

“I possess
him.
He’s been coaching me on how to handle them. Trix, Maggie and I couldn’t find any bedding or even an extra bed. We were just going to the thrift shop to get her some clothes, but I don’t know if I can afford bedding, too. You got anything you wouldn’t mind loaning us?”

“What?” Trixie shook her head, as if trying to wake up. “You don’t understand. You’re a Chapel Hollow person now. You walk into the Everything Store, point to what you want, wait while they bag it for you, and walk out. They bring it out to the car, but they never, never do home deliveries.”

“I don’t have a credit card.”

“Hollow people don’t use credit cards. Nobody asks them to pay for anything anymore, and they grant shopkeepers and owners immunity in return. I remember in ‘52, before Mr. Hal married Miss May, he stole a girl, the Everything Store manager’s daughter, but the store manager went out to the Hollow and talked to Mr. Israel, Mr. Hal’s father, who was
Arkhos
back then, and Mr. Israel got Mr. Hal to let go of the girl before she had a chance to get spoilt. Mr. Hal was always more of a beguiler than a spoiler, anyway. Girl didn’t want to be brought back and wasn’t happy till the come-hither spells wore off—took three weeks of misery.” Trixie’s gaze seemed fixed on one of the rafters down the garage.

“I’m not a Hollow person,” Tom said.

“Good as. Just tell ’em. Or wait ten minutes; everybody in town will know Miss Agatha came to visit you and left without you. Could see her flying from the interstate. Crazy old woman, doesn’t care what kind of stories she leaves behind.”

“They out prospecting for new fetches already?” asked a voice from the garage entrance. Tom turned and saw Sam, still in his civilian clothes.

Chapter 12

Trixie frowned. “Naw. Just visiting the new son-in-law,” she told Sam. Tom couldn’t tell if her voice held anger or fear.

“Whatcha talking about, woman?”

Trixie hunched a shoulder, glanced at Tom, then away. “Tom married Miss Laura, and Miz Agatha came out to take him back to the Hollow.”

“What’s he doing still here?” asked Sam.

Trixie looked at Tom again. He had his hands deep in his pockets, and he was standing unnaturally still. He could feel, almost see, new lines of alliance struggling to sort themselves out. He wished there was something he could do to keep Trixie on his side, but he couldn’t think of anything. She tilted her head and studied him a second, then said to Sam, “Miz Agatha listened to him and then left.”

“No! Miz Agatha
listened
to someone?” Sam gaped, eyes and mouth wide. Then he frowned. “Come on, Trix. Quit screwing around. What did Miz A. want?” He sounded anxious and angry.

Perplexed, Trixie looked at Tom. “What?” Tom said.

“
You
tell him.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” said Sam. “What’s your take on this?”

“Same as Trixie’s,” Tom said.

“You ...
married
Miss Laura? That’s not what you said in the bar. Why’d she marry you? They never many outside their own kind.”

“No, they don’t,” said Tom, although he didn’t know whether they did or not.

“But—” Sam paled, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening, then relaxing. “No,” he said, “that doesn’t make any sense. Why would you hang around town so long instead of just going out there and roaring it up with the family?”

“I didn’t even know they existed.”

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. “You a Bolte now, and you meaning to live in town? How do you think folks will feel? No place’ll be safe.”

Tom sighed. “I’m finding that out. We’ll leave.”

“But—wait a sec. You got Eddie and the girl away? That mark is yours?”

Tom raised his eyebrows, surprised at Sam’s insight.

“You could stay here and protect us.”

“That’s not my job. That’s your job.”

“I could deputize you—get you on salary if you like. Hell, you wouldn’t need money. Whole town would let you sleep and eat free, and Miss Laura too. You stay on—give us all a brand, maybe?”

“Makes you mine,” said Tom.

Sam stared at Maggie. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and a defiant expression on her face. Sam’s eyes widened. “You said,” he began, focusing on Tom again, “you said no one touches her.”

“Sure did.”

“You gonna be a fleshmonger like the worst of them?”

“No. This child’s my daughter now—” He felt a strange golden twist inside, realized that this definition completed a search, label, and understand sequence that had been running ever since he met Maggie. He sighed with relief. “But I don’t think I want to adopt the rest of you.”

Sam shivered. “Listen,” he said after a moment. “I know I haven’t always been nice to you. But that’s not anybody else’s fault. Exempt me, if you want. But the rest of ’em—”

“They’re adults, they can leave if they like. They’re the ones who decided to live here.”

“You are one cold bastard.”

“Could be.” Tom glanced at the clock on the office wall. It was twenty minutes to five. It must have taken them a while to do all the shifting around upstairs. “Thrift store’s going to close soon. Maggie and I have to get going.”

“So sorry, your greatness,” said Sam, his face bitter.

Tom flicked his eyebrows twice and held the passenger door of Bessie open for Maggie, then went around to climb into the driver’s seat. “Trixie, you okay?” he asked out the cab’s open window.

She hesitated, then said, “I’m coming with you,” and climbed in next to Maggie. “Nobody’s going to need a taxi this afternoon. I bet you don’t know anything about shopping for a girl. And we can stop at my place afterward and find her a bed .... Tom? I could put you all up, you know.”

Tom started the cab, looked at Sam, then backed away, raising dust. “You sure, Trixie?”

“Yes. You and Laura could have the boys’ room and Maggie could stay in my daughter’s room. I bet I even have some hand-me-downs Maggie could wear.”

“It sounds great. But what if we get visitors? Mag says distance means nothing to them.”

Trixie didn’t answer until they had pulled into the thrift store parking lot and Tom turned off the engine. “Tommy,” she said, “could you really deal with them? I haven’t seen you
do
anything.”

“He turned Mr. Carroll into a crow,” said Maggie.

“You did?” Trixie asked.

Tom pulled the key out of the ignition. “Peregrine says he’ll be harder to deal with next time. I caught him by surprise.”

“You turned him into a crow?” Trixie asked.

Tom offered her a smile.

“Wish you’d left him like that,” Maggie muttered.

“I know you do,” said Tom. He stared at the steering wheel, then looked at her. “I’m not that type of person. I can’t just go off and leave him—” But he had left his spell-net around Carroll. Wasn’t that the same thing? Tom frowned. It didn’t feel the same as trapping and abandoning someone in a foreign form. He would have to work on his ethics while he was learning everything else.

“How could you turn someone into something?” Trixie asked. “Have you ever done it before?”

“No. Peregrine helped me.”

“All the time, you could have been turning people into things, and you didn’t even know it?”

Tom sat back and thought. He had started seeing and hearing ghosts when he was about ten, and that had confused him—too much going on, nobody else paying attention—and messed up his school work even more than all the moves, though the moves and the ghosts were connected somehow. Hannah had helped him calm his vision so he could focus on what he needed to see when it was important. He had refined that technique into full ghost-blindness, and then, a year ago, he had lost the power to make the visions go away. He had never had any feeling that he could affect what he was seeing, not until that morning at Chester Arthur High when he had grabbed the sky skins and pulled them taut to catch the kids. Now, since he had accepted his vision, he could open Othersight or shut it off whenever he wanted to, which was wonderful. He looked at Trixie. “I don’t think I could have turned people into things until today. I had to see someone else do it first. Carroll turned me into an animal, and I learned from that. But now ...” The nets. The sky skins. They were connected somehow. If he took some time and played with them, he knew he would learn new things. Peregrine probably had vast knowledge to which he had access. Possibilities yawned wide, waiting to swallow him. He shook his shoulders.