Flight of the Wounded Falcon

by Trish Mercer

Peto watched, unnoticed by his sister’s family, as they sat around the enormous eating table. He stood partially concealed in the kitchen as they reached over each other and asked for help and spilled food and occasionally stabbed someone with a fork.

  It was customary in Salem that the day before Holy Day was a day of preparation, so that nothing unnecessary needed to be done the following day. Those evenings would bring the entire extended family together for a large dinner, with leftovers for each family to share the next day after the congregational meeting so even the cooks could have a day of rest.

  Deck and Jaytsy’s table was full to overflowing that night, as it was every other week when it was their turn to host the married children. Mahrree was in her customary spot, and Jaytsy had slid herself over to be where Perrin used to sit. The added presence of Lek and Salema with their two boys, Cambo with his wife and son, Bubba with his wife and twin girls, and Holling with his wife and baby daughter had the effect of pushing Yenali and Young Shem to one of the two smaller children’s tables set up in the corners for the grandchildren.

  Peto smiled dimly that the same thing would happen in his house later, but with much less energy because of what they already knew.

  He stepped fully in the doorway, quietly waiting for someone to notice his presence over the chaos of dinner. He wasn’t in a hurry to share his news. Still, it couldn’t be put off.

  Deck finally looked up from trying to get a piece of bread to his granddaughter. “Peto! What brings you here? Lilla’s cooking is much better than Jaytsy’s.”

  That brought a howl of derision and laughter from his children.

  Mahrree shook her head and smiled at Deck, while Jaytsy put her hands defiantly on her hips.

  Peto saw the momentary reprieve and took it. “I’m just here to see if Sewzi has learned anything new from her aunt. The herbs on those turkeys look familiar.”

  He made his way around the table, ruffling hair and poking children, but paused at Salema’s large belly and patted it.

  “Never come out . . . never come out . . . never come out,” he said to the bulge.

  “How’s that supposed to help, Uncle Peto?” Salema laughed.

  “Maybe I’m the opposite of Calla. She tells the girls when to come out, maybe I’ve got some gift for boys. They tend to do the opposite of what they’re told, after all,” he winked as the family laughed.

  But Mahrree squinted knowingly at him. He only reverted to his youthful obnoxiousness when he was avoiding something.

  Peto made his way to stand behind his brother-in-law at the other end of the room. He snatched a turkey leg from his plate and sampled a bite.

  “Hey! That’s not yours!” Deck exclaimed, to more laughter. Deck rarely ate meat, and had given up beef years ago, just like Guide Gleace. None of the ranching boys ate beef, either. They raised cattle because they loved them alive, not necessarily on their plates.

  But on Deck’s plate today was one of many wild turkeys which were slowly taking over the western side of Salem, and they had to be culled because no natural predators ventured so far into the valley. Because nothing should be wasted in Salem, on these rare occasions Deck ate poultry. Except for right now.

  Peto chewed thoughtfully on the turkey leg, pointed it at his fifteen-year-old niece, and said, “Very good, Sewzi. This family will survive.”

  Sewzi beamed with delight.

  “Do you have any other reason for being here other than to criticize my cooking?” Jaytsy said, trying to conceal a smile.

  “What you mean is, am I here for any other reason than to compliment your daughter?” He dropped the turkey leg on Deck’s plate and wiped his hand on the back of his brother-in-law’s shirt.

  Deck covered his plate dramatically with his hands to avoid further thefts. His younger children and grandchildren giggled.

  Peto knew he shouldn’t procrastinate, but he didn’t know how to proceed. As the laughter died down, so did his smile, and soon everyone was watching him, noticing the change in his demeanor.

  “I did come for another reason. I don’t even know how to say it,” he said with such soberness that everyone at the table fell quiet, probably for the first time ever.

  His eyes met Mahrree’s, who stared at him in dread.

  “Young Pere’s joined the retrieval team heading for Edge.”

  “Peto, no!” Mahrree cried as the Briter family gasped. “He promised me we would discuss this!”

  “What?” Peto exclaimed. “You knew?!”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Mahrree said hurriedly, standing up. “I’ll go talk to him—”

  “Mother, it’s too late.”

  Mahrree stopped. “What do you mean, it’s too late?” She turned to Cephas. “They’re not leaving until morning, right?”

  Cephas looked at his uncle.

  Peto’s face was drawn and tight. “They saw a storm coming in from the southeast and decided to leave as soon as the supplies were ready. They’re already gone.”

  Cephas was on his feet in an instant, shoving the chair behind him. “Uncle Peto, we might be able to catch them—”

  “Already tried,” Peto cut him off. “Lilla and I just came back from the canyon entrance. I’ve never seen her ride so hard.”

  The family waited in heavy silence for him to continue.

  “By the time we got there, only Assistant Ahno was there, and he was mortified when he saw us. Apparently Young Pere claimed Dr. Toon had sent him to assist Dr. Snelling. Ahno had no idea Young Pere was leaving without our permission.”

  “Young Pere lied?” eight-year-old Yenali exclaimed, stunned to hear that anyone she knew lied.

  Jaytsy hushed her.

  Peto nodded sadly before turning to Cephas. “That emergency I was talking about that was supposedly happening at the rectory? I went back and spoke to the tower men about the message. They showed me the note sent up to them. It was in Young Pere’s hand—his diversion to get me away from the Second Resting Station.”

  Mahrree’s eyes grew wide. “Why, that little—”

  Peto continued, addressing the stunned Briters, “He gave them an additional message meant for Shem telling him he was needed at home, but the tower men already knew Shem was dealing with a crisis in the south, so one of them rushed over to the Zenoses to see what the problem was. Naturally, there wasn’t one. While I raced home answering the first diversionary message, Young Pere found Ahno, told him I gave orders for them to leave immediately because of the approaching storm, and, well . . .” Peto shook his head. He hadn’t encountered so much deviousness since he left the world.

  He also missed seeing Yenali counting on her fingers how many lies Young Pere told.

  Mahrree sat down, stunned. So did Cephas.

  “He could have worked for Genev,” Jaytsy whispered. “With stories like those.”

  Peto scoffed lightly. “Father said I could’ve had a career in strategy planning, but it’s Young Pere who has the real talent. And, unfortunately, he was right about the storm. It was already raining in the canyon when we arrived. The retrieval team will be lucky to get past the more treacherous routes. There’s no way Lilla and I could risk going up. Already the water was funneling through the entrance. The canyon will be impassable until the morning,” he finished in a whisper.

  “Oh, Peto,” Jaytsy exhaled. “What can we do?”

  Peto only shrugged.

  Mahrree couldn’t speak louder than a whisper. “I just don’t understand it. Yes, we talked last night, but he never hinted at anything like this.”

  Sewzi began to cry softly.

  Peto moved over to behind his mother and hugged her in her chair. “He’s been harder to reach. And ever since Father . . .”

  He decided not to finish that sentence.

  “He has to make his own choices, and deal with the consequences.” The last words choked in his throat.

  “Peto,” Deck’s voice was very quiet, but sounded booming in the gloom. “Do we k
now if Edge was his final destination? If Thorne should see him, with his looks, should he be discovered . . .”

  The married children at the table glanced at each other in alarm.

  Mahrree hid her face behind her hand.

  “The last report was that Thorne was leading a large contingency down to Midplain,” Peto said. “Apparently there have been some disaffected soldiers there and threats of rebellion. Honri’s source didn’t think Thorne would be back in Edge for at least a season or two.”

  Deck’s shoulders sagged in relief, but his eighteen-year-old son shifted in agitation.

  “Uncle Peto, we’ll just go get him back,” Cephas decided. “He’s always been like this. We’ve retrieved him from trees, families of skunks, when he was stuck in caves, and when he wanted to see that forest fire up close. We’ll just bring him home again.”

  Peto couldn’t answer, because he knew the retrieval team was already gone.

  Viddrow chuckled softly. “Remember when he wanted to see how thick the ice was?”

  Holling smiled. “I think I was fifteen. So was Barnos, so you must have been thirteen, Vid, and he and Cephas were twelve. He had a good plan, at least. He laid down on the bank and slid himself out across the ice, spread eagle, to avoid putting too much weight on any one part. We all heard the ice cracking, but he was sure it was further down the pond. Then suddenly, sploosh! He was gone.”

  Some of the younger children giggled, but the adults didn’t smile.

  “He was sick for weeks. He coughed so hard I think he cracked a rib, didn’t he?” Viddrow added with a sad laugh.

  “That’s enough,” Jaytsy said sternly to her sons, and looked at Peto who was lost in thought, staring at nothing on the table. In a soft voice she added, “We nearly lost him.”

  Mahrree nodded. “There were many nights we thought he wouldn’t make it to the morning. To get Lilla to leave his side was almost impossible. She’d allow only Perrin or me to stay with him at night.” Mahrree looked at the children around the table. “Your mother and Aunt Calla took care of the Shin family for those weeks, so your aunt and uncle could spend all their time with Young Pere. If you boys hadn’t gotten him out of the water when you did, he probably wouldn’t have made it.”

  Cephas turned solemnly to his uncle. “But that’s the point. We got him back. It took all of us to pull him out of the water, and we even got wet ourselves. But we saved him, Uncle Peto. Let’s just do it again.”

  Not for the first time did Peto wish Young Pere had a sliver of Cephas’s thoughtfulness. “Young Pere’s been very blessed to have family and cousins who rescue him every time he’s reckless. But this is different. He’s moved himself out of our reach, and should he fall in the water again, none of us will be there to pull him out.”

  His nieces and nephews looked down at their plates.

  Deck sighed heavily. “Peto, I don’t know what to say, except that we will all pray for him, always.”

  Mahrree added, “And the Creator knows where he is. Young Pere’s not out of His reach.”

  “But Muggah,” Cephas said, trying to be gentle, but his doubt was clear. “If Young Pere’s not listening?”

  “All we can do is hope,” Mahrree said to him, “that sometime Young Pere will learn to listen.”

  Yenali piped up. “He always listened to Puggah. Maybe the Creator can send Puggah to him.”

  Stillness filled the room as all eyes looked at the eight-year-old, who took a squirting bite of her corn on the cob.

  Peto’s tears would no longer be held back. “That’s a good plan, Yenali,” he whispered. “And it’s all we’ve got right now.”

  A few minutes later Peto walked with Mahrree to the Shin house. Neither of them spoke, too lost in their own thoughts and fears.

  Lilla was waiting outside, facing the direction of the canyon as if from several miles away she could see any progress of her son, making his way up in the thunderstorm that clouded her view. She glanced over, saw Mahrree and Peto approaching, and rushed to hug her mother-in-law.

  “We couldn’t get there in time! I can’t believe he’s gone! Just like that! No message to us, no goodbyes, nothing? As if he didn’t care what this would do to us!”

  Mahrree stepped back and held Lilla’s arms, trying to still her agitation which made her entire body tremble. “I’m so sorry, Lilla. Somehow it will be all right.”

  “Do you really think so?” Lilla asked.

  Mahrree paused, knowing that she said the words flippantly, desperate to see poor Lilla calmed, but it wasn’t working.

  “I hope so,” Mahrree said. “And I pray so. But honestly, I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know yet either, Mahrree!” Lilla wailed. “I can’t feel anything about him. Usually I do. Usually I can feel when he’s about to do something stupid again. And then I would wait for the yell, or for the children to come tell me where he’s stuck or bleeding or both, but not now.” Panic was rising in her tone. “It’s as if he’s gone beyond my reach, beyond my ability to feel him! Mahrree, what will we do?”

  “All we can do is pray and ask for help.”

  Lilla turned to the canyon again.

  Peto wrapped an arm around her as she sighed. “I know who could have stopped him.” Without another thought, and with no reservation, she looked up to the sky and said loudly, “Dear Creator, please hear me!”

  Behind her, Peto and Mahrree exchanged looks of surprise, then watched to see what was going to come out of her mouth next.

  “If it’s Your will,” her voice, despite her volume, began to quaver, “please send Papa Pere to bring home my boy!”

  Peto wrapped her fully into him as she began to sob.

  Mahrree patted Peto on his arm as he led her into the house. Several children waiting at the door came to their parents’ aid, leaving Mahrree alone in the garden. She felt the same as Lilla, but not as loudly. No one ever felt as loud as Lilla.

  She looked to the sky over the mountain, darkening from the setting sun and the storm that was covering it. Normally she loved that violent color of gray and blue, with jagged lightning cutting in with lines of white.

  But not tonight. Tonight, the color of the sky terrified her.

  “Dear Creator,” she asked quietly, “if it is Your will, please send my grandson help. And Perrin, if you can, go find Young Pere and stay with him. Don’t leave him until you can bring him home to his mother and fath—”

  And then she could no longer speak, because her breath was gone, because an enormous warmth suddenly surrounded her, like a large blanket.

  But it wasn’t a blanket. She could even smell him, earthy sweet, and the intensity with which he enveloped her was nearly overwhelming. She stood in that blissful state for a few moments, fully wrapped in all that was her husband.

  Are you sure, Mahrree?

  “Yes. I’ll be fine without you. Look how many men and women you’ve given me to care for me. I understand now what you’ve been trying to tell me: I don’t need you nearly as much as Young Pere does. Oh, but how I will miss you!”

  It’s only temporary, remember? Besides, Young Pere is why I had to pass on. He’s my calling now. The Creator knew he’d do this and that someone needed to go with him. Mahrree, I hope you can forgive me, but I volunteered for this.

  Tears were dribbling down her cheeks. “I know,” she whispered. “Somehow I knew that.”

  It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission, especially about dying.

  She chuckled pitifully at that, her tears increasing. “Stay by his side, Perrin. Don’t ever leave him. Please. Knock some sense into him, and then come home with him.”

  I will. I always love you. And I’ll come back again, with him. I promise.

  And then . . .

  He was gone.

  As quickly he’d appeared, he’d vanished. Perrin was gone, truly gone, headed south.

  Weakness, emptiness filled her unlike anything she’d felt since the day he died. But s
he wasn’t alone, because something else came. Softly, carefully, consolingly.

  She found her thoughts full of her father as her mind heard the words, See why I always liked him?

  ---

  The pounding on the door startled the two elderly women who lived in the house, but their housemate, Eltana Yordin, only glowered at it. She was slightly suspicious that whoever was beating down their door with such urgency may have been someone who had finally pieced together that she’d been coaching Young Perrin Shin for many weeks. It was about time.

  With deliberate slowness, she opened the door.

  “Where is he?!” bellowed Shem Zenos, and the sisters shrank in astonishment.

  But he didn’t notice, because he was glaring at Eltana with fire she didn’t think the guide possessed anymore.

  While Young Perrin was overdue for their discussion that day, she wasn’t about to make any of this easier.

  “Why, whoever are you talking about?” she asked with disgusting sweetness.

  “Young Perrin Shin! Assistant Ahno told us he’s headed up the canyon to Edge!”

  Eltana blinked at that. No, the plan was for Sands, in about four moons—

  When she didn’t respond immediately, Zenos stood taller. “So you didn’t know, then?”

  She nearly exclaimed, He’s what!? But instead she said, as calmly as she could, “When did he leave?”

  “A few hours ago. I’ve been trying to piece together exactly why and for what purpose, and the trail has led me here. What’s his intention?”

  The two sisters quickly stood up and bustled away to the kitchen.

  Eltana didn’t invite in the sergeant major, and saw behind him two younger men, likely rectors from other areas. Based on their coloring, they definitely weren’t Shins, thank whatever creator may exist. She wasn’t sure why they were there, although she was fairly confident Salem didn’t have any kind of incarceration.

  Stunned to realize that Perrin had already left, and realizing she had to cover her involvement in it—just in case there was incarceration—she firmed her stance. “Perrin Shin was interested in returning to the world, and he and I spoke about it on occasion—”

  “They found your notes, Mrs. Yordin!” Zenos shouted.

  Her jaw clenched. He was supposed to burn those, or take them with him. Never leave evidence, she’d told him repeatedly. Never leave a trail . . .

  “What do you want from me, Sergeant Major?”

  “Answers!”

  She firmed her stance. “I don’t have any for you.”

  “What did you put in that boy’s head? He’s grieving, he’s irrational, and he’s impulsive, as you now see.”

  Her mind was spinning, trying to figure out what Perrin was doing, and . . . He left without even saying goodbye to her?

  She realized she was still being yelled at.

  “What else did you give him? I saw the notes—names and locations in Sands. That’s his final destination, is it? Some of those names were those who betrayed Gari. Do you expect Young Pere to exact revenge?”

  “No!” she shouted back. “He’s too inexperienced. They’d destroy him first.”

  The foolish boy left the notes. Oh slag, he left the notes—

  “Oh, wonderful,” said Zenos, oozing with sarcasm. “You’ve sent him to be butchered, then?!”

  “NO!” she cried again. “I sent him to catch them in their lies! To gather information! Then, once he’s been trained up a bit, finds his footing, gathers our allies, learns to wield a sword—”

  Zenos sagged. “Oh, Eltana, what ideas have you fed him?”

  “Perrin can do anything!” she declared, hoping that was true but beginning to doubt it. The slagging boy left the notes—

  “He’s NOT PERRIN!” Zenos roared. “He’s NOT his grandfather! He has the looks and the voice and far too much of his confidence, but not the steadiness, and not the ability, and certainly not the wisdom. Eltana, you’ve set Perrin’s grandson on a road to self-destruction.” He leaned against the doorframe and held his face in his hands.

  She didn’t know what to do with the abrupt change in the sergeant major. For a moment she thought he almost might be sobbing.

  “He can do it,” she insisted, but she felt her own confidence flagging. He was supposed to get more training. They had four moons—

  “You underestimate him,” she decided, hoping she believed that. “All of you do. He’s capable of far more than any of you realize.”

  Zenos’s hands slid off his face, and he delivered her the most cutting glare she’d ever felt. And having lived with Gari Yordin, that was saying something.

  In a voice that shook her to her toes, Zenos said, “It’s you who underestimates the world. It will crush Young Perrin Shin. Your selfishness is devastating an entire family. I hope you get the satisfaction you’re hoping for, because it’s going to cost far more than you ever anticipated.”

  There was nothing more to do but slam the door in his face, because suddenly she felt drained and hopelessly weak. She stumbled to the first chair she could reach and collapsed into it.

  Gripping her head, she murmured, “Left too soon. Oh, you left too soon. Again, Perrin, you’ve left me too soon . . .”

  ---

  Later that evening Mahrree sat rocking Morah, who cried softly, as Peto and Lilla tried to explain again to her and Centia exactly where, or where they thought, Young Pere had gone.

  The rest of the family sat in the gathering room quietly listening, shaking their heads, and softly sobbing.

  Mahrree kissed her granddaughter’s head as she whispered, “But he said I was part of his team, now.”

  Mahrree didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she understood the sentiment—they were losing their team. Two were now gone.

  Until that evening she’d never noticed how present Perrin had still been. Sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t even died six weeks ago. He was always still there to talk to, and a few times she was sure she heard him laughing. He was always somewhere, nearby.

  But his lingering wasn’t meant to be permanent. He had greater work to do besides playing with his grandchildren and lying next to her in bed at night while she read. He was far away on a mountain side, heading to Edge, trying to find a lost lamb.

  Or rather, a stupid young ram.

  Morah slid off of her lap, kissed her Muggah good night, and Hycy held her hand as she trudged sadly off to bed.

  Relf comforted his mother as Barnos put his arm around his father. Lori and Jori would be arriving shortly, Mahrree was sure. The tower message was sent to them over an hour ago, and both young women were as solid on horseback as their mother. The rest of the family sat on the sofas together, sighing and sniffling, helpless.

  Kew came and stood behind his grandmother, as if desperate to find something to do. At thirteen, he was rapidly becoming another copy of Perrin. Over the season, he’d grown taller than Mahrree, and his brown hair was darkening to almost black. But his eyes were far more gentle than Young Pere’s, as was his quiet and frequently clumsy demeanor. In an effort to help, the poor boy tried massaging Mahrree’s shoulders, and she tried not to wince in pain. Instead, she appreciated the intention and patted his hand gratefully, hoping he might ease up a little.

  But he didn’t, because the sudden knocking on the door was so loud and urgent that he accidentally pinched Mahrree’s neck in alarm.

  The rest of the family jumped in their seats as Nool began to open the door.

  Shem shoved it the rest of the way and hurried in, as if he’d been running for hours and didn’t know how to stop himself. They hadn’t seen him since the crisis began, but messages had been flying back and forth as everyone frantically rushed around accomplishing nothing. Mahrree nearly shrank back as she saw Shem’s expression. His earnestness was almost frightening as he went straight to Peto.

  “Any word? Any updates? He’s still gone, right?”

  Peto, momentarily startled by Shem’s intensity, sta
mmered, “N-no. Nothing new. He’s still gone.”

  “And you did not give him permission, correct?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Did he ask to go? Did he hint at all—”

  “Yes,” Mahrree blurted miserably.

  Shem spun to her. “What?!”

  That time she did shrink back as the full force of his barely contained rage was shifted to her. “Last night, we talked. All right, we yelled. He told me he wanted to be a scout, and was asking for me to convince all of you to let him go. But I didn’t!” she exclaimed as Shem began to huff. “I told him no! Actually,” she knew she had to amend that, “actually, I told him we both needed to pray about it, then discuss it again in three days. Shem, I was trying to buy us time!” she defended as he clenched his fists. “Woodson’s course doesn’t even begin until next week, and I figured I’d have a solution for his request by then!”

  Everyone stared at her, Shem the hardest. “What, exactly, did you tell him you’d do? Did you tell him you’d help him?”

  Mahrree swallowed. It was no use lying to the guide, and that’s who he was right now. Not her little brother, but the Creator’s guide who, she suspected, already knew the answer. “I told him,” she confessed nervously, “that if—IF—the answer to my prayer was that he should go, that I’d help him. But I told him it’d be a disaster! That he shouldn’t go!” she immediately added as Shem rubbed his forehead vigorously in the best Perrin tradition. “I wasn’t ever going to give him permission, Shem! And I was going to tell you and Peto and Lilla about our conversation after he came back to discuss things with me. I was sure . . . I was sure he’d change his mind.”

  But something had changed in Shem’s countenance, and he stared at Mahrree. “You told him it’d be a disaster. That he shouldn’t do it.”

  Suddenly Mahrree saw her mistake. “Oh, no,” she murmured.

  Lilla’s eyes widened with worry.

  Sometime during that conversation, Jaytsy and Deck had arrived and were standing anxiously at the open door, listening, along with a burly man who was vaguely familiar to Mahrree.

  “I’ve just come from Eltana Yordin’s,” Shem said heavily. “She definitely was coaching him, but she seemed alarmed he was already gone. I suspect that she may have said something along the same lines as you, Mahrree: that he wasn’t ready to do this.”

  “So naturally,” Lilla spoke, her voice pitching shriller with each word, “he decided to prove everyone wrong! Oh, that stupid boy! It’s a raw bacon and egg pie day today, that’s what it is! With sour cherries and mushrooms on top—”

  Peto was already pulling her into him, and she sobbed against his shoulder.

  “One thing a Shin can’t do,” Shem said, suddenly sounding weary, “is to accept when someone in authority tells them not to do something.”

  Mahrree held her face in her hands. “It’s the Stupid Shin trait, all right,” she said despondently. “Someone issues us a challenge, and we unwisely chase after it. Lilla, I’m sorry your son took after the wrong grandparents. He read Calla’s book recently. Or rather, misread it. He took from it only the elements that fit his agenda.”

  “I had to talk Perrin out of it,” Shem whispered, as if he were speaking words he never intended to. “Out of doing Eltana’s bidding to go down in the world and take it over.”

  “Well, maybe if Young Pere had been listening in,” Mahrree sniffled, “he would have been talked out of it, too.”

  “He likely was,” Lilla said, pulling away from Peto, her face blotchy and furious. “He’s always eavesdropping. That’s probably how he heard about the retrieval team, when Lek came to tell me! And if he heard you and Perrin talking,” she said to Shem, “he likely heard only what he wanted to hear, shoved that in a sandwich, and ate it!”

  She turned to sob into Peto’s shoulder again. “I knew he was going to do this!” Lilla choked out between sobs. “I knew he was going to do this someday!”

  Shem sighed, then noticed the Briters at the door, and the man standing apologetically behind them. He beckoned him to come in.

  “Good evening,” the man said awkwardly to the family that stared at him. His voice was much quieter than such a large man should have. His eyes were bloodshot, and one of them was bruising and swelling. In his hands was his straw hat, crinkling quietly.

  “Kellen,” Shem said kindly, “exactly when was the last time any of us saw Amory?”

  Mahrree frowned, trying to follow what was going on.

  Kellen looked down at his feet. “Probably a little before dinner time. You and I were talking out in the field about, about her decision. The rector left her alone to come speak with us. When we got back, we couldn’t find her.”

  Shem turned to Peto, Lilla, and Mahrree. “Do you know Kellen and Amory Riling?”

  Peto shook his head, and Lilla glanced up from his shoulder to shrug, her eyes too blurry to focus.

  “Would Young Pere?”

  “Not that I know of,” Peto said, looking confused.

  Shem turned again. “Mahrree?”

  Mahrree smiled sadly at Kellen, now remembering his name and face. The first time he walked into her world history class, she thought he was the very definition of the phrase “big and burly.” But she’d never known a gentler young man. Now he seemed as timid as a wounded sparrow.

  He tried to return Mahrree’s smile, but it was a pitiful attempt.

  “Kellen was in my world history class some years ago,” Mahrree told Shem. “Amory was also one of my students, I think a year or two later. But I don’t think Young Pere would know either of them.”

  “What’s this about?” Lilla asked.

  Shem didn’t immediately answer but seemed lost in thought. Or rather, lost in contemplation. “Amory is most likely also with the retrieval team—”

  He stopped, closed his eyes and sighed.

  Mahrree swallowed in dread. She knew that behavior of his. He was being told something, and she already knew it wasn’t good.

  “No, she is with them. Ahno couldn’t remember her name, but it’s Amory. She told Ahno she’d obtained permission from me while I was counseling a couple. But what she failed to tell him was that she was one half of that couple, and I did not give her permission to abandon her husband and three daughters.”

  Kellen was sagging, and Deck took his arm and led him to a chair.

  Shem stepped over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get you through this, Kellen. All right?” He shook his shoulder a little.

  Kellen looked up at him, doubtful.

  Deck remained by his side, his hand on his other shoulder.

  Shem looked around the family. “I need to tell you all that this will not end easily.” He took a deep breath before dropping the next load on them. “It’s been impressed upon me that neither Young Pere nor Amory will be returning with the team when it comes back next week. They will not be back in Salem for . . . quite some time.”

  Lilla cried out and again buried her face in Peto’s chest.

  Mahrree hid her face behind her hand again, and Kew sat down hard next to her.

  Kellen leaned over in his chair and held his head.

  Shem could barely choke out the next words. “You deserve to know and to be prepared. Their leaving will bring great turmoil to all of Salem. I am sorry. For all of us.”

  Quiet sobs were all that was heard in the room.

  Peto, still holding Lilla, looked Shem in the eye. “Guide Zenos, what would you have us do?”

  Shem turned to Peto. “Well, we pray. We pray as if it all depends on the Creator. Then we get to work as if it all depends on us. At first light, I’ll send a group after the retrieval team. Hopefully they can pick their way through the mud. We’ll do all we can to reach them.”

  “But you just said—” Mahrree began to point out that he’d told them they wouldn’t be coming back soon, but Shem’s sharp glare stopped her. He tilted his head toward weeping Lilla, and Mahrree unders
tood. Even when there’s nothing to be done, something had to be done anyway. Just to know you tried.

  Shem glanced over at Deck, then at Relf, Barnos, and Wes. “There’s something more. We didn’t finish marking the Norden route. We need to do that, as well as mark each of the other routes and resupply the emergency caves. Now, in the next few weeks. Before the harvest needs us.”

  The room gasped.

  “All of the routes? Guide, why?” Jaytsy asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I have the distinct feeling that we won’t be able to do so in the coming years. We’ll send only a few men on each route, on horses, to complete the markings as quickly as possible. Peto, you and Cephas move up your plans on resupplying the caves. See if the volunteering families can do it by the beginning of the next moon. If they ask why, just tell everyone we’re trying a new procedure. There’s no need to alarm anyone, especially since I know for a fact that Idumea’s armies aren’t coming next year.”

  “Shem,” Mahrree pressed gently, “then . . . why?”

  She felt sorry for Shem tonight, who seemed to be shouldering the burdens of the entire valley. “Sometimes we just do what we’re commanded to, because we’re faithful. We don’t need reasons; we just need to obey.”

  He looked around the room of stunned family, and something in his firm demeanor melted slightly.

  “But,” and he waited until everyone looked at him, “we still have time. And now, we’ll kneel together. If you hear a loud cracking noise, don’t be alarmed. It’s not a lightning strike or a breaking tree. It’s just my knees.”

  Even Kellen’s somber face turned to a small smile as Shem kneeled with great emphasis, and a distinct and loud cracking sound filled the room.

  Mahrree cringed, and Shem smiled at her discomfort.

  “Your turn, Mahrree. How loud can you crack?”

  Now the entire family smiled sadly as Mahrree stood up from her chair and winced as she kneeled next to Shem, supporting herself on his shoulder. There were only a few small popping sounds.

  Shem shook his head in disappointment. “Should’ve been in the army, Mahrree. That’s how to properly ruin your knees. Either that or run a few races.”

  The rest of the family and Kellen joined them in a large circle and listened to Guide Zenos pray for guidance, strength, wisdom.

  When he prayed for someone to watch over the lost ones, Mahrree felt another stab of loneliness. When he asked for those at home to be consoled, she felt her father close again.

  What she really wanted to feel was Young Pere’s hug from last night. She had no idea it’d be the last time, and she tried desperately to think what her last words were to him.

  It was something about always loving him, wasn’t it?

  Then again, it didn’t matter what she said, but what he remembered; what he shoved into that sandwich of his and swallowed down to take with him.

  Didn’t she call him a ridiculous boy?

  When Shem finished the prayer, the room felt slightly lighter, with a tiny bit of hope. Enough, Mahrree hoped, to sustain them.

  She went back to her chair and dabbed at her eyes, while Peto and Deck spoke with Kellen. The young husbands huddled together, waving over Kew, Nool, and Hogal to discuss the tree marking needs, and the rest of the family consoled each other. The sound of galloping horses approaching the house indicated that Lori and Jori had arrived, and Lilla tore out of the house to greet them, followed by Hycy.

  But Shem came over to Mahrree and kneeled again in front of her for a private conversation. First, there was more cracking.

  “Do you do that on purpose, knowing how it makes my insides squirm?” Mahrree asked.

  “Yes, I do,” Shem confessed. “I can make them crack as loud as I want. I was just hoping to see something else on your face besides that miserable expression again.”

  “Well, you’re such a ray of sunshine on a bleak, dark day.”

  Shem shrugged. “Guides don’t tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to hear—”

  “Shem, it’s all my fault,” she interrupted in an urgent whisper. “I totally messed up with him.” Trembling, she said, “Is this why I wasn’t allowed to go with Perrin when he died? This?! To say all the wrong words to my grandson and send him running into the world that he can’t handle?”

  “Oh, Mahrree—no!” Shem said, grabbing her hands to hold them. “This is not your fault, not in the least! You can’t . . . you can’t think like this. You’ve had enough experience with him to know that he’ll do whatever he sets his mind to, no matter the evidence around him that it’s a bad idea. The Creator could send a mountain to fall on top of him to stop him, and still Young Pere would find a way to disregard it.”

  She could only bob her head noncommittally. He was trying to make her feel better, but on a raw egg-and-bacon-pie day like today, nothing was going to work.

  Shem could see that, and he sighed. Then he said, “My visit at Eltana’s didn’t go well.”

  Mahrree couldn’t help but smile wryly at that. “I’m sure it didn’t. What did you learn?”

  “She was startled to hear that he’d left already. Clearly, that wasn’t part of her plans. Nor was him leaving her notes in his room for you and Lilla to find when you were searching it for clues.”

  Mahrree grumbled. “I’m sure she told him something like ‘hide all evidence of this clandestine collaboration,’ and like an innocent Salemite, Young Pere had no idea what ‘clandestine collaboration’ means. Oh, Shem. He’s just too stupid to survive down there!”

  “I’ll try to get more out of Eltana later,” Shem promised. “Maybe something that can help us. I wasn’t entirely in control of myself when I confronted her,” he admitted.

  A corner of Mahrree’s mouth lifted into a smile. “You mean, you let her have it?”

  “That, and then some more, I’m afraid.”

  “I only regret that I missed witnessing you chew her out,” Mahrree told him. “But it’s an image I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”

  Shem’s face was a mixture of regret and pride. “Ask the women she lives with about it if you need more details. I think I terrified the poor things.”

  Mahrree wanted to smile at that, but she just couldn’t. “Shem, I don’t know how much more I can take. Now I’ve lost both my Perrin Shins.”

  “Our Perrin is gone as well, isn’t he?” Shem whispered. “I could feel someone else was missing besides Young Pere.”

  Not for the first time that night Mahrree felt the tears building.

  “Ah, Mahrree, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I think I know how you feel. I don’t know what I’ll do without my big brother whispering in my mind. He went to find Young Pere, didn’t he?”

  Mahrree could barely get out the words, “I told him to go.”

  Shem leaned forward and put his forehead against hers. “I don’t know yet what will happen to Young Pere,” he whispered, “but if anyone could reach him besides you, it’s Perrin.”

  He kissed her on her forehead, then stood up with a little bit of effort and a little more creaking.

  Mahrree winced at his noise.

  Shem walked over to Kellen. “Let’s take you home. Your little girls will you need you tonight. I’ll speak to Rector Anth so that he and his wife can work on getting you some help until your parents arrive. It’s fitting that tomorrow is Holy Day. We all need a little rest after today, I think.”

  Peto and Deck each gave Kellen an encouraging embrace, and he wiped at his eyes. “Thank you, Guide. All of you. I hope you find your son.”

  “I hope you find your wife,” Mahrree told him.

  “She hasn’t wanted to be my wife for some time now,” Kellen said despairingly. “I don’t really know what she wanted. She just kept saying she wanted something more, that she wanted out. She was insisting on a termination of marriage today,” he admitted, looking at the floor hopelessly. “I just know I love her. I think I always will. But I’m not enough for her,
I guess.”

  Shem put an arm around him. “No more guessing, no more worrying about what should’ve been. All we can do now is take care of today and start working on tomorrow. Your daughters will be worried, and Mrs. Ling has a strange idea that children should be in bed before sundown. Not the most fun baby tender we could find, is she? I’m sure we can find someone more agreeable. We are all family, after all. We have help on every side.”

  Chapter 21--“You’re going to have to do much better than that.”