The Thread That Binds the Bones (27 page)

“But what do we do with the kid?” Bert said.

Carroll stretched her hand out toward the salt cellar, frowning in concentration. Trixie passed it to her. She sighed and salted her egg.

“She goes too,” Trixie said.

“I don’t think so,” said Bert.

“Why not? We can hardly leave her somewhere.”

“Don’t you think she’ll make a fuss?”

Carroll set the salt down and looked up. “Make a fuss about what?”

“About the wedding,” said Bert.

“What wedding?”

“Barney and Annis,” Trixie said.

“Annis? You didn’t say Annis!” said Carroll. “Who’s she marrying? That fetch
akenar
she ran off with? How can she? Tom, you let me go now. I have to stop them.”

“No way.”

“You don’t understand! This is important! Annis has more potential than Laura. She must come back to the Family. We need her bloodline.”

“No you don’t,” Tom said, though he heard echoes of Peregrine’s logic in Carroll’s speech.

“Yes we do.” Carroll opened her mouth to say more, then glanced at Trixie, Bert, and Maggie. “Would you—please—come in the other room with me a minute? Please?”

Tom glanced at Laura, saw her sparkling with inner delight. He ate another spoonful of oatmeal, then said, “Okay.”

Carroll looked at Laura, then decided something and shook her head. She grasped Tom’s sleeve and led him into the front parlor.

“Look,” she said after he sat down on the sofa. “I know you don’t think I—you don’t understand how I operate. I know I can’t figure
you
out. I’m sorry I said things and did things to you when I met you, but how was I to know you’d be—” She frowned. “It’s that Laura. She has never done anything right. So now, when she actually brings us good blood, I have trouble getting used to it.”

“Are you saying you’re glad Laura married me, in spite of everything that’s happened?”

Carroll paced back and forth, her face set in a frown. “I am and I’m not. I hate being so weak and powerless. I feel like I have no choices in this body; people are telling me what to do all the time, and they can force me to do what they say. You made me like this. But your being able to do that, that’s a sign of great hope for the Family, if it’s a power you can pass on to your children. There are two halves of me, me alone, and me of the Family. And the Family is in trouble. You’ll help the Family.” She searched his face for signs of comprehension. “Your children ...”

“I understand.’”

‘But if Annis goes off and marries this—Barney? Some
tanganar—
that’s a waste of bloodline. We don’t have any to waste right now. The blood’s thin. The talents are dying. I can’t stand it, I can’t stand watching my Family die.” She looked at him with tearbright eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I’ve been thinking about it all night. I wonder if I’m really a girl inside, and if I carry the same bloodline I had before. If I do, maybe I’d ask you to leave me this way, only if I could be four years older, so I could have a baby—” She turned away, and hit the coffee table with a fist. “Because I’m the most gifted of my generation, but I have sowed my seed and none of it quickened. My male self has no hope of children.” She stared at him with eyes that burned with green fire, a terrible smoky despair.

Abruptly she paced away, stood facing a wall. “So what I’m asking—and if you grant me this, you can do whatever else you like to me—is, if you’d just let me be myself long enough to hunt Annis and Jaimie up and take them home where they belong. Please, please, please.”

Tom bit his lip.

“Please,” Carroll said, turning to stare at him again.

—Is this a weasel ploy? Tom asked Peregrine.

—Perhaps, but he speaks from the same place I speak from when I talk of Family, and that, I believe, is sincere. With your leave, I will answer him.

—Go ahead.

“Descendant Carroll Bolte,” said Peregrine.

Carroll jumped and straightened, eyes wide. “What? Presence?”

“Yes. I have taken up residence in this student. I am training him. I share your concerns, but I wish to tell you that as far as Annis is concerned, all is accomplished. I tested her fetch: he is not wholly
tanganar.
I tested their child: it is a child of power, sign fire. I duly sealed it to the Family, and sanctioned their union, with the aid of another Presence summoned for the work. Family will benefit from this union; be easy in your mind.”

Carroll bunched up like a rubber band being twisted tight. Then she sighed and relaxed. “All right,” she said. “Thank you, Ancient. Which Presence are you?”

“Peregrine Bolte.”

“The same that spoke to me after Michael’s and Alyssa’s Purification?”

“The same.”

“Threatened to unleash the deep fire on me?”

“Aye.”

“Ancient, could you grow me up a little bit, please? Please? Heal me and strengthen me? I should hate to die before I had a chance to give the Family a child.”

Peregrine laughed. “I know it doesn’t seem it, but you are safe here.”

Carroll gripped one hand in the other, twisted her fingers. “There is a feeling of safety like I have never known,” she whispered, “with Trixie. But what if my fetch finds me alone?”

“She is my daughter, and she is finished with you,” said Peregrine in a stern voice, “provided you take pains not to provoke her again.”

Carroll rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Ancient. She has been my fetch three years, and though at first I cherished her, I have not been kind to her. I have used and neglected her, and kept her a prisoner in her body. How can one screaming and one fight make up for that? Please let me protect myself. I promise never to harm her again, only to protect myself.”

“How could you keep a promise like that?”

She blinked. Tears glittered in her lashes. “Perhaps you’re right,” she murmured.

“Why did you mistreat her? Why do you have this history? Where does this poison come from, descendant? Better not to sire children at all than to sire powerful poisonous ones.”

“But that’s why,” said Carroll, her teeth clenched. “Because no matter how carefully I prepared, no matter what rites I performed, what spells I cast, none of my fetches gave me children. I tested that Magdalen. She was fertile, but she withheld it from me.” She hit the table again.

“The fault was not hers.”

Carroll glared. “I know! I did not want to know! Ancient, can I breed?”

“I don’t know. Tom worked this change on you. I know not how. His power reserves are vast, and his techniques are foreign to me.”

“So I’m stuck here?” She looked at her small hands, stretching out her fingers and staring first at the backs of her hands and then at the palms.

“For now,” said Peregrine. “Descendant, I leave you now.” He seeped away.

“But—”

Tom stood up. “Come on, Carroll. I’ll make you another egg.”

“But—all right.” She rubbed her eyes. She managed a smile and followed him back to the kitchen.

They stopped on the threshold. Michael and Alyssa sat at the table between Laura and Bert. Alyssa stared down into the coffee mug she held. Michael, looking uncomfortable, hugged himself and glanced sideways at Bert, who looked puzzled and apprehensive. Trixie, her mouth a straight line, was clearing dishes off the table. Maggie sat very still. Laura offered Tom a wide grin.

Carroll grabbed Tom’s sleeve. “You said I’d be safe here,” she whispered.

“You will be. I’ll take care of you.” He took her hand and led her to the table. “Hi. Is this a stop on your honeymoon?”

“Not exactly,” said Michael. He lowered his eyebrows and stared at Carroll, smiled, shook his head, then looked at Tom. “Wait a sec. Why do I think I know her?”

“Family resemblance. Trixie, are these people bothering you?” said Tom. Carroll hid behind him, keeping a firm grip on his shirt.

“Not as much as they would have day before yesterday,” she said. “I’m getting used to Boltes in the kitchen. Nuts and Boltes.”

Michael’s eyes widened. He stared at Trixie and his face lost color. He lifted his hand—

“None of that,” said Tom. Laura flicked her fingers at her brother. Tom saw, with Othersight, that she cast a small blue net around Michael’s hand, then tugged it tight so his outstretched fingers curled into a loose fist.

Michael stared at her, his mouth open.

“Our house and our hostess,” said Laura. “No casting.”

“Did you really—” Michael straggled and managed to flex his hand. “Did you do that, Laura?”

Laura looked at Tom, who nodded. “Probably,” she said. “Do you get the message? You’re visiting. Exercise courtesy.”

“All right,” said Michael. He glanced at Alyssa.

She licked her lip and ventured a little smile. “We’re nervous,” she said.

“But curious,” said Michael. “Still in white, Tom?”

“I haven’t had time to pick up my other clothes. These are great. They stay clean no matter what else happens. Did you do that on purpose?”

“I don’t know. I was a little drunk at the time.”

“Have you met everyone?”

“I haven’t,” said Alyssa. “Laura was just going to tell us—” She peeked past Laura at Maggie. “But you look familiar.”

“Uncle Carroll’s fetch,” said Michael.

“Her name is Maggie, and Tom and I have adopted her,” said Laura. “This is Trixie Delarue, our hostess. Trixie, my brother Michael and his wife Alyssa.”

Alyssa and Trixie nodded at each other. “We’ve met,” said Michael, but he looked puzzled.

“You probably came into my husband’s pharmacy, like everybody else,” Trixie said.

“Your husband?” Michael looked at Bert.

“Not him. My husband, Tyke Delarue. Tyke’s?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Michael. He looked at his hand a second, then held it out to her.

Trixie stared at his hand just long enough to raise his hackles, then took it, shook it, and let him go. He glared at her. She burst into peals of laughter. “My, that feels good,” she said.

“What?” asked Michael, insulted.

“Not being afraid to offend you.” She smiled, radiating cheer. “You Hollow people stomped on enough uneaten candy bars to keep a town full of trick-or-treaters happy, and broke enough toys to give an orphanage a merry Christmas, not to mention what you did to the domestics and drugs. That’s one of the reasons I was just as glad we sold the business when Tyke retired. The waste broke my heart. I like getting a little piece of it back.”

Carroll peered out at her from under Tom’s left arm. Feeling the child’s gaze, Trixie glanced at her.

“Manners?” Carroll said.

Trixie’s grin was bright as lightning. “Yes! Maybe that’s why I’m glad you’re here. Somebody didn’t raise you right. I know I can do better.”

“Who—?” Michael glanced from Trixie to Carroll and back.

“No, we’re skipping Bert,” Laura said. “Michael, Alyssa, this is Tom’s boss, Bert.”

“I know Bert,” said Michael.

“Like your dad. Interested in cars,” Bert said. “But you didn’t go ask Pops how they work. Used to open up my cabs and break the engines a new way every week, trying to figure it out on your own.”

“I didn’t mean to break them,” said Michael. “I just wanted to find out about them.”

“Did it ever make sense to you?”

“No.”

“If you want to know something, asking questions is a good way to find out. What’s done is done, though,” said Bert.

“Michael, is your whole past like this?” Alyssa asked.

“Like what?”

“Full of people you hurt, people who couldn’t protect themselves from you? I’m amazed we’re sitting here in this kitchen.”

“What do you do at Southwater?”

“We never show our powers in public,” she said. “That’s how we’re raised; gifts are family matters. We pass for normal. Only sick people take fetches, out of necessity. I can’t remember anyone in my lifetime taking one; it’s something I’ve only read about in history. You have a whole town that knows about you and fears you. I don’t understand how it operates.”

“Tradition,” said Bert. “Chapel Hollow and Arcadia are locked to each other by ages of tradition. Used to be more positive for both sides, remember, Trix?”

“Mm,” she said, nodding.

“Started changing, gradually, about thirty years back. Just been getting worse and worse. Might be changing for the better now, though,” said Bert.

“How?” Michael asked.

“Well, look. You’re sitting at a table with us.”

Michael, hugging himself, with his hands tucked into his armpits, glanced around the table. “Yeah,” he said. “It feels really strange, but here we all are.” He looked at Carroll. “Only who’s the kid?”

Carroll glanced at Laura, who raised an eyebrow. “Your decision,” Laura said.

Carroll kept a grip on Tom’s sleeve. She stepped up beside him and looked up at him; he looked down at her. “This is how it is?” she said.

“Do you really want to go back?”

She looked at Trixie. Her eyes misted. “No,” she said. “’Cause I could make somebody do it, but it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Do what?” asked Michael. “What are you talking about?”

She glared at him, then closed her eyes. Her face smoothed. When she opened her eyes again, she was still, centered. “Quiet, please. Give me a moment.” She let go of Tom’s sleeve and went to the table, gripping its edge, staring at Trixie. “Can I please stay with you, please?”

Trixie took a deep breath, let it out. “You want me to raise you?”

“Yes, please. I need ... a teacher.”

“Manners and all?”

“Manners. And electric blankets?”

“Oh,” said Trixie. “Both?”

“Yes.”

“What’s going to happen when you turn thirteen? I need rules. And if you stay here, you’re going to do your share of the work. Are you going to hate me for that?”

“No,” said Carroll.

“Because I’m not going to cherish you if you plan to destroy me or anybody else. I hear you talking about anything like that, I’m going to send you to bed without your supper, understand?”

Carroll frowned at a fork on the table in front of her. After a moment, she looked up. “I understand. But will you
talk
to me?”

“Yes. I’d like that. I’ve been lonely since the kids left. You’ll have to go to school, though, or people will wonder. Hell, they’ll wonder no matter what, but I can say you’re a grandchild. Can you handle that? Go to school, and behave at home?”