by R. D. Brady
“I don’t mind.”
And Lyla knew she didn’t. She’d barely spent any time with Maisy since Miles had been taken. And right now, she was painfully aware of that fact. So maybe this little trip, even if it didn’t result in anything that could help with Miles, would help remind her daughter how much she was loved.
34
Arthur set the veerfinah down in a clearing two hundred yards away from the cottage. With all the trees, it was the closest he could get. After she and Arthur investigated the area immediately around the veerfinah, she left him in the veerfinah with Maisy and Little Thor while she went to make sure the way to the cottage was clear.
The sun was warm on her hair as she walked. Squirrels scampered up a tree nearby, and a mama bird returned to a nest to feed her chirping babies as Lyla passed. Nothing in the forest was giving off any signs of concern, but Lyla kept her grip on the romag, keeping her eyes shifting from side to side, just in case something slipped by the animals’ attention.
A few minutes later, she stepped from beyond a large blue spruce and went still. The cottage was still there. Part of her had thought it would be gone, maybe destroyed by Mother Nature after all these years. And while it was true that the trees surrounding it seemed a little closer to it than they used to be and the grasses around it a little higher, it was still standing.
She had been seven when she’d last been here. The cottage looked smaller now. It was a single-story cabin with a porch running the length of the front. There were two windows along the front and one on each of the sides. The old wooden front door had held up pretty well. Some of the tiles on the roof had peeled back, and the siding had faded, but the windows were actually still in one piece. And the porch still looked straight. Even the old swing was still there, although it now lay on its side on the porch.
She climbed the steps to the porch, her feet kicking up leaves and dirt. No one had been here for a while. She took a deep breath as she crossed to the door, ghosts of memories assailing her. She could almost hear Muriel’s laugh and see her mother standing on the edge of the porch, wrapped in her father’s arms.
Tears pressed against the back of her eyes. She paused before reaching for the handle, looking at the old swing. She had loved curling up there with her father and Muriel. Lying with her mother there as her mother told her stories. She took a deep breath, a wave of emotions crashing over her.
And the biggest emotion was guilt.
She hadn’t thought of any of them in this way in such a long time. It was as if she’d somehow forgotten them. She hadn’t, not ever, but she had forgotten some of the little moments that they had created to bring her joy. She remembered peeling apples with her mother one day when they had gotten sugar. They’d made an apple pie. Lyla had never tasted a better one since, not even one made by Emma or Edna.
She could almost see herself and her sister sprint up the stairs before running through the door. Her gaze drifted beyond the trees. There was a creek a few hundred yards back beyond the house. The whole family would go down there to do laundry. After they set the laundry up to dry, their mother and father would take them swimming. And they would laugh and play and then picnic by the bank.
It had not been an easy life, but in a lot of ways, it had been an easier one than the one that Lyla currently lived. She hadn’t had a chance to take Maisy out for a fun afternoon in a very long time.
I need to change that.
She opened up the door and pushed it in. She paused at the threshold, listening for the sound of any animals that might have made their way inside. The small scrabble of feet told her that there were mice somewhere around but nothing larger. She stepped into the room. The cottage was small. It was really only one room with a loft up above. She and Muriel had slept in the loft while her parents had slept in a bed at the back of the cottage. The bedframe was still there, as was the long kitchen table and two chairs.
Lyla ran a hand over the old surface, stopping at the spot where her father had carved all of their initials into it. She’d forgotten about that little detail too. Memory after memory assailed her, but instead of being swept away by the tide, she went with it, enjoying reliving the happy days that she’d forgotten about.
She shouldn’t have forgotten. She should’ve relived these moments over and over again. She was the only one left from her family now. It was up to her to share the stories about Muriel and her parents.
There was no one else left to do it.
The air was musky, and dust particles floated noticeably through the dim streams of light offered by the windows. She didn’t think anyone had been here since her family had closed it up. She was surprised, although she shouldn’t have been. Her father had chosen this location precisely because it was out of the way. He didn’t want his family to be near a bunch of humans he didn’t know.
With the reports she’d heard of the violence in the early days, she couldn’t blame him for that. She wanted nothing more than to sink down into the chair and just let herself remember the times she’d spent in this home. But that was not why she was here. She would come back another day and tidy up the cottage, make it livable again. And then she would bring her kids here and tell them about their grandparents and about their aunt and Riley’s mother.
But today, she needed to find a grave. She turned on her heel and headed back out the door. She paused at the bottom of the porch steps. Frank thought that Ta’Chiko had been buried underneath the tree with the old swing. Her father had strung up an old tire to create one for her and Muriel.
Lyla glanced to the right at the set of three trees. The tire wasn’t there. She thought the swing had been in the middle. She headed over, scanning the area. She found the tire in between the second and third tree, the frayed rope still attached. She looked around for any sign of the grave, but she didn’t see anything.
Of course, it had been years, and she wasn’t sure exactly what had been used for a headstone, or if there even was one. She herself didn’t remember ever seeing anything here that would indicate a headstone. She walked around the base of each of the trees, but with the long grass it was hard to make out anything on the ground.
After a quick search of the surrounding area to make sure there were no people hanging about, she started to jog back to the veerfinah. Arthur stood at the bottom of the ramp, scanning the trees surrounding them. Maisy was sitting on the ground, playing some sort of game with Little Thor. The concern on Arthur’s face lessened when he caught sight of Lyla.
She smiled. “It’s all right. The cottage is in pretty good condition. It doesn’t look like anyone has been there for a long time.”
Maisy’s head jerked up, and she jumped to her feet. She hurried over to Lyla, her eyes bright. “Can we see it?”
Little Thor toddled after her.
Lyla ruffled Maisy’s hair. “I can do better than that. How would you guys like to help me go on a scavenger hunt?”
35
Unbeknownst to Lyla, Arthur had packed a basket full of food, hoping that he could entice Lyla to eat a little bit. He grabbed the basket, and the four of them picnicked on the front porch of Lyla’s old cottage.
Maisy looked around with big eyes as they sat eating. “You really lived here?”
Lyla took a bite of her sandwich with a nod. “Yep. I lived here with your grandma and grandpa and your aunt Muriel. At night, there used to be hundreds of fireflies lighting the skies. Your aunt Muriel and I would try to chase them. I always wanted to put them into a container and bring them into the house, but Muriel always said we should let them go free shortly after we caught them.”
Maisy nodded. “She was right.”
Lyla nodded. “Yes, she was.”
Little Thor babbled something in response, and they all laughed. Arthur pulled Little Thor into his lap. “Apparently Thor agrees as well.” He smiled. “It sounds idyllic, your childhood.”
Lyla paused for a moment, memories rolling through her mind. “At the time, I wouldn’t have said so. But”—she sho
t a quick glance at Maisy—“I suppose it was.”
“It will be like that again,” Arthur said.
“I hope so.” Lyla dusted off her hands and started to pack up the remaining food. Arthur and Maisy helped as well, and in a few minutes, they had everything cleared up. Lyla nodded over toward to the three trees. “We’re looking for some sort of marker that indicates a grave was there.”
“Ta’Chiko was a friend of your daddy?” Maisy asked.
“Yes. He was a very special friend of my dad’s, and I’m hoping maybe there was something buried with him that could help us understand the abilities of the Cursed. Now, let’s get to looking.”
Maisy eyed Lyla, a sly smile on her face. “What do we get if we find the marker?
“How about an extra cookie?” Lyla asked.
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “How about two extra cookies?”
Lyla pretended to mull it over for a minute. “All right, deal.”
Maisy started to fold the blanket they’d sat on. “Was Grandpa really friends with an alien?”
Lyla shrugged. “I’m not sure. Frank seems to think so.”
“Was he a real alien or one like Arthur?”
Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean like me?”
“Well, you’re human, just blue.”
“A real one, I think,” Lyla said.
“Cool.” Maisy grabbed Little Thor’s hand and hurried him down the stairs. “Little Thor’s on my team. If we find it, we get two each.” She hurried toward the trees.
Lyla frowned, watching the two of them. “Somehow I think I just got played.”
Arthur threw an arm over her shoulder. “Oh, I know you did.”
She glanced up at Arthur. Despite the lightness of his tone, he had a confused look on his face. “What is it?”
“Maisy, she just … accepts. No guile, no suspicion.”
Lyla wrapped her arm around Arthur’s waist. “Kids are like that.”
“I would like to have a child someday.”
Now it was Lyla’s turn to be surprised. “Really? Is that even possible?”
His cheeks reddened. “I don’t believe they did anything to make the men incapable of having children. In fact, we were often required to provide samples.” His eyes dropped. “I probably already have one or many. But I’ll never know who they are.”
Lyla wasn’t sure what to say to that because it was true. The female avad were impregnated, but those samples must have come from the male avads. He most likely did have children out there somewhere.
“Perhaps you could provide a home to a child when all this has settled down.”
“Like you did for Maisy and the boys.”
She nodded. “It’s been difficult. But it’s also the best decision I’ve ever made. It makes all of this worthwhile. The stakes are higher, but so is my motivation. I wouldn’t trade any of them for—”
She bit off her words, an image of Miles being carried over the shoulder of an avad into the ship drifting through her mind.
Arthur placed his hand over Lyla’s. “We’ll get him back.”
She just nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, let’s go see if Frank was right.”
36
Sweat soaked through Riley’s shirt. About an hour after Lyla and Arthur had left, the camp had been in an uproar. Xe had been unable to find Little Thor or Maisy. But then one of the avad mothers reported seeing Maisy playing with Little Thor near the stables right before the veerfinah had left. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where the two had gone.
But Riley was mad at himself for not stopping her. First Miles was taken, then Maisy had scampered off, and he hadn’t even noticed. Some brother he was.
He headed into the stable and started cleaning the horse stalls. It wasn’t his turn for the duty, but right now he needed to do something.
And he needed to do something that didn’t involve other people.
He pictured the mob at New City. He still couldn’t believe the humans were the ones who had stopped them. They didn’t care that their own people were being killed. They didn’t care that Riley’s brother was being held by the Naku right now. All they cared about was making sure that they kept their nice cushy lives exactly as they were.
He was so mad at them he couldn’t even stand it. And truth be told, he was mad at Lyla too. They’d had everyone there. They could’ve fought through those people and still made it to the veerfinah. It was true that the mothership would’ve had warning, but the truth was, surprise was never really a guarantee. As soon as they stepped off the ship, people were probably going to realize they weren’t supposed to be there.
But instead of pushing forward, Lyla had ordered everybody back. He knew she did it to keep people safe, but who was keeping Miles safe? And how safe were any of them on any given day anyway? Miles had had a target on his back since the Unwelcome had arrived. Riley, Petra, all the other Cursed had had the same target on them. Safe was an illusion.
“Need some help?”
Riley turned as Lewis headed down the stable path toward him. Riley had gotten to know the man on their long walk to the Lab. He was a good fighter, had integrity, and was awfully quiet. He did not waste words. Riley didn’t think he’d ever sought Riley out specifically. Unfortunately for him, Riley wasn’t really in the mood for conversation.
Riley shook his head. “No. I’ve got it.”
Lewis didn’t take the hint. Instead he stepped into the stall that Riley was clearing and leaned against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I thought you and I should talk.”
“About what?”
“The next steps.”
Riley gave a bitter laugh. “There are no next steps. We are out of steps.”
“Well, we might be out of them, but the Naku aren’t. They’re regrouping. They are getting their Unwelcome back on point. Which means if we are going to strike, we need to strike soon.”
Riley shook his head. “Strike? We tried that yesterday, and it failed miserably.”
“We didn’t expect the resistance. But now we know what to expect. Now we know that the people of New City aren’t our friends. They are our enemy and not a passive one. And personally, I think it’s time to take the fight to the enemy.”
Riley stopped raking, leaning on the end of the rake. “Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be telling this to Lyla?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell her when she returns. I’m going to head out for a little while with Imogen and Pierce.”
Riley stopped what he was doing and finally looked at Lewis. “You’re leaving us?”
Lewis straightened up, shaking his head. “Nope. I’m going to do a bit of hunting. I figure we’ll need the extra food for when we finally bring the fight to the Naku. We’re going to need an army. Tomorrow, I’ll head back to Meg’s and start making some inroads to see who wants to volunteer.”
“An army? You really think that’ll help?”
“The Naku are weak right now because the Unwelcome aren’t a guarantee. Which means if there was ever a chance for us to wrestle control away from them, it’s now. And I, for one, think we should be prepared when Lyla comes back with a plan.”
“A plan? She’s not going out there to get a plan.”
Lewis smiled. “She wasn’t intending on going out there looking for a plan, but I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. And unlike you guys, I’m a little new here, so I see some things a little more clearly. Miles being taken took the wind out of her. And she was beaten down by the defeat yesterday. But Lyla doesn’t stay beaten down. Her mind, whether she instructs it to or not, will always try to find another way to get to a goal.
“So I guarantee you that when she comes back, she’ll have the beginning of a plan for getting Miles. And I figure I might as well go ahead and try to give her a couple extra resources to put that plan into play. So do me a favor and tell her I’ll be back later today.” Without waiting for a reply, Lewis headed out of the
stables.
Riley watched him go, a small kernel of hope building in his chest. Lewis was right. Lyla never stayed down for long. She wouldn’t give up on Miles, even if it meant going it alone. She was going to come back with an idea. And they were going to get Miles.
Riley threw himself back into his work, cleaning out stall after stall. But this time it wasn’t to work off the anger. This time it was so that he could pass the time quickly. Because he needed to know what the new plan was going to be.
37
Thirty minutes into the search, everyone’s spirits were waning. Maisy sat down at the base of the tree, her enthusiasm for the search long since gone. “Are you sure it’s even here?”
Lyla sighed. She’d been wondering the same thing herself. But she also knew that if it was important to her father, he would have left some sort of sign. The kids had been excited at first, searching and looking. But that had worn off pretty quickly. In fact, Little Thor was now asleep on the porch. And Maisy had been kicking grass and leaves for the last five minutes.
And this is why you don’t bring kids on missions.
Maisy climbed up the middle tree, scooting out onto a branch six feet up, her legs dangling over the side. “Mom?”
Lyla stopped her searching and glanced over at her. “Yes?”
“What’s this?” Maisy pointed to the trunk of the tree.
Lyla squinted, trying to make out what Maisy was pointing at, but she had to move forward to get a better look. Something had been carved into the trunk of the tree. It was a little above her height, which meant it was about the correct height for her father.
Lyla grabbed on to the first branch. “Scoot over,” she said to Maisy. Once Maisy was out of the way, Lyla pulled herself up. Straddling the branch, she ran her hands over the bark, her hand stopping as they came across the last two letters: M and L.
Dad.
Above her and Muriel’s initials, he’d carved three symbols. Three dots, a line, and the letter E. Arthur came and stood next to her, his head almost reaching her waist. “Did you find something?”