Seer's Blood

by Doranna Durgin

  As the second boot dropped to the ground, she looked again at Trey’s face, its sharp angles made unattractive with his continued scowl. “You might start us a fire, if you can,” she told him, and walked barefoot to the edge of the tree shelter. “And yes, I want the bark, like for tea. I need something to soak it all in, too.” How he came up with that, she didn’t care.

  “Hey,” Estus said, startled to find it was her rather than Trey when he turned around. He reached for her arm and she took a step away from him, tossing her head in annoyance, ignoring the fact that Burl had come up behind her.

  “You got a fondness for handling other people,” she told him. “But you better not try it with me, or you’ll be more’n sorry.” He was of her own size and maybe a year younger, and she backed her words with enough fire to make him hesitate.

  It was nothing more than a brave front as long as Burl’s large form stood behind her — but she needn’t have worried. “Estus, you’ve caused enough trouble,” Burl growled. “We needed to talk to that man, you fool! Iff’n she goes after you, I’m gonna watch.”

  Hesitation flickered across Estus’ thin features. Instead of dropping his hand he brought it up in an unnecessary gesture to push his limp, shoulder length hair back from his face. Wet, moldy straw-looking hair, Blaine thought, but refrained from saying so, content with her little victory. She looked at Burl; he nodded slightly and gave her a barely discernible smile, an acknowledgement of sorts.

  Blaine stepped out of the shelter and looked out at the clearing. The rain had slackened and was back to a drizzle, coming down lightly enough that it made no sound, but merely muted the noises of the woods.

  Blue. They needed all the dogs, if for nothing more than warmth, and she’d already decided she wasn’t going to leave Dacey alone with Estus. The last she had seen the hounds, they’d been curled up downwind of Dacey’s shelter, their noses tucked beneath bony, inadequate tails.

  She thought of Dacey’s howling, of the yelping he used to call the dogs after a hunt. She’d heard it often enough, and surely it wasn’t much harder than howling with the pack. Blaine looked over her shoulder at the young men behind her, and resolved that if she was going to bark into the woods, she’d do it with confidence.

  Blaine lifted her voice to the hills, imitating the yodeled yelping that Dacey used. Mage whined and appeared from the shelter, leaving Dacey’s side to circle her anxiously, looking into her face, trying to understand her purpose. His gold spots were all but hidden in his wet fur, his white coat gone grey with rain. She patted his broad head — like Blue’s, it had a little keel at the back, an odd shape of skull that was becoming familiar to her fingers. She took another breath and tried again, and this time Mage joined her, giving the come-to-ground call in a commanding tone, giving Blaine confidence as well.

  She repeated the call twice more, then rubbed behind Mage’s ears in thanks. His wet tail thumped twice against her leg before he walked stiffly back to the shelter and Dacey. As he passed Estus he lifted his lip in a silent snarl, and Blaine hid a smile from the boy. Even Mage knew who had made the trouble here.

  “What was that all about?” Burl asked her, talking to her back. Estus had gone back to Trey, and was sullenly listening to his firm directives. Blaine felt her shoulders stiffen at the Burl’s intrusion; she just couldn’t help her resentment — even if he had offered to watch while she lit into Estus.

  “I just called the other dogs,” she said without turning around. “We ain’t got blankets, an’ this raings put a chill on everything. I got to keep Dacey warm somehow.”

  “You know,” Burl offered, moving up beside her, towering over her, tall and thick-armed and intimidating, “I reckon I don’t really know what-all’s going on. I thought I understood before we tangled...but I swear it’s got all mixed up.”

  Blaine gave him a scornful look — fine time to come to such, after Dacey was down and hurting — but felt bad at the flush that washed across his face. He’d only been doing his best to protect his family, even Dacey would say that much.

  “Anyways,” he said, talking over the awkwardness, “I guess if I done had to get knocked down by a girl, I don’t feel so bad iff’n it was a girl who kilt a bear.”

  “Trey told you,” Blaine said, of sudden mixed feelings to know Trey had been talking about her. “It was a puny bear. Dacey’ll tell you so.”

  “Still an’ all,” Burl said. “It was fine done, from what Trey said.”

  From what Dacey had told him. Fine done. She liked that.

  The woods emitted an intermittent scurrying noise, one that quickly grew closer. Blaine let her breath out in a gust of relief when she saw the hounds pelting down the hill in a scramble of leg and tail. They swept by her without regard, except for Blue, who stopped to shove his wet nose into her hand. She wiped her hand off on his damp back, making sure he didn’t see her smile, and went to the pines to watch as the dogs ran around Dacey and sniffed at him, then collapsed of one accord, all around him like a living blanket. Mage took his place by Dacey’s chest and rested his chin there, soulfully eyeing the people that surrounded him.

  Blue sat on Blaine’s foot with a thump, and she had to wrest it free. He looked up and wagged his tail against her ankle, setting his seal of approval on the scene in front of him. “I’m glad you’re happy,” she murmured, despite the fact that her sarcasm would be lost on the brute.

  Trey approached, Estus in his wake. “I’ll be back in a bit with what you wanted,” he told Blaine, nodding at Burl to join him. Wanted to talk, no doubt. And then, to Estus, “And I’ll be back here tomorrow with food for you all, make sure everything’s all right,” but his eyes flicked to Blaine to catch her nod. Blaine almost felt sorry for him, now that he was caught with an accomplice who couldn’t adjust to the changing situation. Almost.

  She watched as Burl and Trey moved into the mist of the falling evening, quiet on the damp ground. When they were out of sight, she turned to give Estus a wary look.

  He looked back at her, a grin twisted across his face. “Don’t give me any trouble, now,” he said. Blaine lowered her head to glare out from under her eyelashes. She was beginning to despise this boy.

  At her feet, Blue shifted, paying close attention to Estus for the first time. He peered up at the one who opposed his girl and offered a growl, almost conversationally. Blaine grinned back at Estus. “No,” she said, “I don’t guess we want any trouble.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 14

  As daylight faded, Blaine ripped out a section of her already abused skirts. She shook rain off the pine boughs for water, and cleaned the drying blood from Dacey’s face, soaking the clotted gunk from the wound above his temple and wishing his head was as hard as the white oak heartwood of his hair. Dacey lay still and pale and unresponsive...but she felt he was there. Awake. Just unable to face the world.

  Trey returned, spoke a few words to Estus, pressed some sassafras bark into Blaine’s hand, and muttered something about returning on the morrow. Estus watched him go, then set to gathering wood — sullenly; Trey must have ordered it done. He had a cup on his belt, too, like the older men who liked to share a bottle of sippings, and he offered her that, just as sullenly. Blaine cleared the pine needles down to the dirt and built a fire with Dacey’s matches. The wood started reluctantly and burned resentfully, filling the shelter with eye-stinging smoke but little warmth. Just enough to steep the pine and sassafras bark within the blooded rag. Then she not only washed the wound with the steeping bundle, she gently prodded Dacey into sipping a goodly portion of the tea.

  From the look on his face, he was hoping it would stay down. So did she.

  Eventually, she’d done all she could. Cold pervaded her bones, and even her wool clothes didn’t keep her from feeling the damp; she moved over to curl around sweet little Whimsy, and Blue found a place at her back. A tumble of Dacey, dogs, and Blaine — curiously satisfying — they slept, while Estus, dressed warmly and never as wet as they, turned
his back to them and sat at the edge of the pines.

  Dawn came none too soon for Blaine. She moved outside the pines and peered up at the misty, lightening sky, trying to guess the day’s weather. Too soon to tell. She stuck her hands in her armpits, shifted her cold feet in the dew, and waited.

  At last, a spark of sunlight glimmered over the eastern ridge. She sighed with pleasure at its warmth, immeasurably thankful that they were on an east-facing slope. Blue came and sat beside her, anxious about some doggy thing he could communicate only by staring intently at her. She shrugged at him — and then heard the loud growl of his empty stomach. And although she laughed, privately her own stomach was asking the same question. She gave his ear a quick rub — no real consolation for either of them.

  Behind her, Estus stood and stretched, and Blaine’s smile faded; her thin-boned face set into stubbornness. She did not turn around as the boy approached.

  “Thinking about going somewhere?” Estus said, giving her a hard stare — it was supposed to be intimidating, she was sure. She didn’t acknowledge his question or his presence, but turned her head to contemplate the suddenly crucial forest above the clearing. Blue peered dumbly at Estus, perhaps wondering if this human would provide him a meal.

  “Hey,” Estus protested sharply. “I’m talking to you.”

  There was little, Blaine thought happily, that pricked the self-important ego like ignoring it. Another lesson learned from Lenie — although one not willingly taught. Estus, scowling and well-pricked, took her arm, digging his fingers in, and gave her a little shake.

  Blaine examined the progress of the leaf growth around them. Another few days and they’ll be leafed out full for sure.

  He’d had enough. Muttering a curse, Estus yanked at her, trying to jerk her off-balance — to jerk her attention his way. Blaine turned on him, yanking back, her facade of remote disinterest shattered. Estus started, suddenly and obviously realizing that she was taller than he, and even had an uphill advantage. The day before, threatened by Dacey, he’d gone for a rock. Now his free hand flashed for his knife.

  It never had the chance to get there.

  Blue, faster than Blaine ever would have guessed, soundless and precise, clamped his jaws around Estus’ arm — not the knife hand, for he had no concept of knife, but that arm which held her. Blue simply sat, his lips draped over the limb, his jaws firm; his very weight dragged Estus’s hand off Blaine.

  Estus made a squeaking noise and tried to free himself, his knife forgotten.

  “Blue!” Blaine exclaimed, but could not manage to sound displeased. You made me do this, Blue seemed to say to the boy, his eyes sad and reproachful. Blaine crossed her arms in front of her chest, smiling at Estus.

  “Blue.” The voice was gentle but commanding, and Blue released Estus to trot gracelessly into the pines.

  Estus stared at the blueish-red puncture marks on his arm as Blaine pushed past him, ignoring him again, and back into the pines. “How do you feel?”

  “I’ve been a whole lot better,” Dacey said. He sat up — slowly, and with care, but he looked like Dacey again. The tea. Though she’d been hoping and half-expecting, Blaine stared at the closing cut on his temple, taken back by how good it looked. No swelling. No oozing. And his eyes — clear. Thinking. In charge of himself.

  She felt a sudden sharp pain for skills and knowledge these hills had lost along with the seers and their books. Maybe a seer’s book would have told them how to save Lenie’s betrothed....

  Maybe not. Surely not even sassafras could do everything.

  The dogs tumbled away from Dacey and meandered off, nosing the ground. “Stick close,” Dacey told them, wincing again at his own voice. “You reckon you can straighten me out? I seem to disremember exactly what’s happening here.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Blaine snorted. “You took a lick hard enough to knock the whole of last month from your head. If it weren’t for —” The sassafras — she glanced at Estus, not trusting him enough to say even that much, “ — that headache brew I gave you, I’ll bet you’d still be mumbling nonsense.”

  That got a reasonably piercing look from him; Blaine grinned to see it, and added, “Besides, they lit into us so fast I doubt you ever did know just why.”

  “Trey,” Dacey ventured, gingerly feeling his head.

  “Well, that there’s the one that hit you.” Blaine nodded at Estus, who glared at them and flexed his bitten arm, staying right out at the edge of the pines. “Trey weren’t too happy about it.”

  “Neither am I.” Dacey’s hazel eyes sharpened on her, reminding Blaine that he still waited for answers. “What happened?”

  Well, he had reason enough to be short about it. “Trey said two of the plainsmen done been killed, an’ all our menfolk are being questioned — Taken, he said — to find out who done it. He figured it had to be you.” She scowled. “He was gonna turn you over to ’em.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  “I had some words with him. Guess he thought better of it.”

  “I reckon he did, at that.”

  She couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. Dry amusement, maybe. “He’s coming back today — gonna try to straighten things out.” Blaine glanced at Estus, who had turned his back on them, then leaned forward to add quietly, “The only reason he left that boy is he don’t trust him no more — especially not to keep quiet. Estus thinks he’s watching us, but really he’s up here so he can’t cause no more trouble.”

  “Leastways they didn’t hurt you,” Dacey said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes — but not before he caught sight of Blaine’s wicked grin. He opened them again, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Oh, one of ’em came out for me,” she told him. “I wish it hadn’t been Burl, though — he turned out decent. Estus would have deserved it, and he wouldn’t have been able to get me off, neither.” His other eyebrow went up. She made her voice extra-airy. “Just something Lenie told me about.” Though, as Blaine recalled, Lenie’s strategy had been more of the kick-and-run variety. She added, “It turned Burl green.”

  One side of Dacey’s mouth turned up; he shook his head and she was sure of it now — dry amusement. “Lenie done good by you this time.”

  She was glad to see that smile, quick as it had been, but there was no avoiding the hard words for good. “Dacey,” she said, her voice low, “What’re we gonna do?”

  “Wait for Trey,” Dacey said. He shifted, a wary and cautious movement, legs crossed and somewhat akimbo, and rested his head in his hands. “We still need him. And we still gotta make him see that he needs us.”

  “I can get away,” Blaine offered quickly. “That Estus ain’t hardly bigger’n me, and that’s not saying much for ’im. I can get past if you want me to.” With or without the blinder.

  “I know you could. But there ain’t much use in it right now. We’ll wait and see what Trey has to say for hisself.”

  When Blaine realized that was all the comment she was going to get, she settled down and folded her legs beneath her. She tried to follow the disquiet she felt, to understand it, only to discover how much she hated to see him like this. It somehow took her mind to the Annekteh, to Nekfehr and his jimson and how he’d literally crammed it down Dacey’s throat. How that, too, had seemed to tear something from him, the quiet command he had of himself.

  She found herself suddenly, fiercely glad that the Annekteh couldn’t take him.

  No wonder he got that look on his face, sometimes. If it had been her with that jimson, Blaine would have settled in for a nice long stay at Dacey’s cabin and not returned to Shadow Hollers. But Dacey...Dacey was somehow more afraid of not doing this than he was of doing it.

  She sighed and settled her chin on her drawn-up knees. He would be all right, given time. “Dacey,” she said softly, not wanting to wake him if he’d fallen asleep again. He opened his eyes. “About what Trey said... about those men... I knew something was wrong the other night, Dacey. I told Trey
you didn’t kill them...but you did, didn’t you?”

  He looked away from her. “They weren’t Annekteh,” he said, quietly enough so Blaine had to lean forward to hear. “I’ve done killed before, but they...they were just doing a job.” He dragged a hand over his face. “It adds up.”

  “I know,” she said, still quiet. She glanced over to the sunlit clearing to see if Estus was watching; there was no sign of him. She touched Dacey’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Trey said...it was gruesome. I know you wouldn’t have chose to do it that way. But we ain’t playing games, Dacey — we knew that. We’re facing more than just killing those men. We’re facing killing our own, iff’n they’re Took. That’s the stakes here.”

  “Well,” Dacey said, after a moment’s consideration. “You’re right at that.” He smiled at her, even if he did look a little distant. After some silence — comfortable enough — between them, he said, “I sure could use some food.”

  “I reckon that’s a good sign. I don’t know if Trey’ll remember we ain’t got nothing to eat, or even when he’ll get here,” Blaine said. “But I hope it’s soon, and I hope he brings a whole pail of biscuits!”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 15

  But it was late before Trey got there, and he arrived in a rush of effort, throwing himself on the ground to recover from the climb. Estus immediately materialized from where he’d been lurking above the pines, and Blaine moved from the sunshine of the clearing to join them. Blaine stood on one side of Trey’s supine body, Estus on the other; the two regarded one another coldly until Trey recovered enough to sit up. “Burl’s on his way with a pack,” he panted. “Couldn’t keep up with me.”

  “What’s the rush?” Blaine asked.