Seer's Blood

by Doranna Durgin

  A ghostly white shape lurched out of the mist at them. Blaine gasped, but her instant of terror quickly turned to relief. Mage. The dog came directly to her, whining, his head and tail low. The dog who had hardly ever even glanced her way...wanting direction from her. “With me, Mage,” she said softly, and he fell immediately to her side, leading her, looking back to see that she followed.

  She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to see what he’d show her.

  They had not far to go. Three other spirit-white shapes appeared in the darkness, two of them milling uncertainly by the third, and coming to greet her — touching her hands with their cold noses, whining, beating her legs with their tails, moving on to do the same with Mage and Blue. Two of them came. The third waited.

  Blaine reached out her hand to touch each hound, offering a rare caress. Whimsy’s cold nose pressed firmly into her hand as the little bitch crept closer, while Chase winced away, whining, as she came upon the terrible swelling around his eye and half his face. “Dacey,” she murmured, feeling sick.

  She moved to greet Maidie and stumbled over the edge of her bearskin. That’s why they’re here, she realized. Waiting on the bearskin, something of Dacey’s, for his return. She reached for Maidie —

  And stilled, startled by the cool feel of the sour old dog. Gently, Blaine shook Maidie, then snatched her hand away as lifeless bones move beneath her touch. With a cry of dismay, she threw her arms around the nearest hound, hugging tight, staving off tears and a suddenly overwhelming fear for Dacey. They kilt his Maidie!

  But Dacey, at least, was surely still alive. They needed what only he could tell them.

  Blaine took a deep breath and pulled away from the dog, surprised to find that she had been hugging Mage, and that Blue stood anxiously beside her, waiting for the chance to push between them and claim his spot back. She drew him in, gave Mage a thankful pat, and gathered the dogs around her to wait out the long night.

  When morning came — or close enough to make out the dim outlines of the woods — Blaine dragged the golden-specked form of Maidie from the crumpled bearskin and built her a cairn. The four remaining dogs made anxious circles around the abandoned camp until Blaine took the free end of the leash and captured Chase with it. Mage subsided with a word, having apparently taken her authority to heart — although as the sun rose, he could not contain a howl.

  Blaine made a careful search of the area around the bear skin, finding nothing of Dacey — no clues, no struggle, and a trail so broad, made by so many feet, that she didn’t dare follow it. So she folded the drying pelt, and reluctantly unleashed the dogs so she could tie the skin and haul it back with her. Bereft of their master and their confidence, the dogs followed her meekly back to the clearing. She arrived at the pines just as Trey and Burl came up the hill from the hollow.

  Trey stopped Burl with a touch and they both stared up at Blaine. “What’s going on?” Trey asked, taking in the pelt and the four subdued dogs, turning it into suspicion. “Why have you got Mage?”

  “Because they got Dacey,” Blaine answered wearily, unable to spare Trey the blunt answer. She rushed on with the rest of it, circumventing his questions — she only wanted to get this over with. “He went back to our first camp — he wanted to clean it up so we’d have a safe place if things went bad. He was still going dizzy sometimes, he shouldn’ta’ gone —” Her voice broke, but forced her way past it. “He got to the camp, he musta.... I found this,” she finished, dropping the skin, “and the dogs. The old bitch is dead.”

  Trey dropped to a knee to take a quick but firm look at Chase’s face, dismissing the dog with a quickness that told Blaine all was well. “He shouldn’t have gone,” he muttered, standing to face her, anger blooming on his face, maybe a little fear. “He risked everything — he lost it! Why’n spirits didn’t you stop him?”

  “Did it seem to you like I could boss him around?” She glared at him, stiff in her anger, the dogs swirling around her like windblown leaves. Finally Blue nudged her hand and she turned to stalk into the pines.

  Damp cold ashes greeted her from the fire circle. Resolutely — as if by following normal procedures, she could claw her way out of Annekteh trouble — Blaine knelt and began arranging tinder.

  “I got biscuits,” Burl’s voice came almost timidly from behind the curtain of pine. “Mought still be warm, iff’n you eat quick.”

  Blaine sat back from her task. “I could use a warm biscuit,” she said, suddenly exhausted. Something to fill her stomach and take her mind off what was happening.

  Dacey, in the hands of Annekteh again. It ain’t right. He’d come up here to help, and been caught. He’d come back, and been betrayed. And now they had him again. It wasn’t even his fight! Not truly.

  She took the warm, honey-soaked biscuit Burl offered and looked up at him, finding Trey just behind him. “It’s our fight.”

  Taken back by the suddenness of it, they both used a moment to follow her thinking. Then Trey shook his head. “Blaine...”

  “No. Listen. It’s true, Dacey’s the only one who can tell the Taken right quick.” Not that she knew how. “But we’ve still got something we didn’t have before.” She dug the grotesque wards out of her pocket, showed them to the boys. “We won’t have to worry about the meeting hall once we get it, and they won’t be able to Take whoever we can get in there. All we got to do is time it so the timber men are warned we’re making trouble, and get free of their guards before the Annekteh start Taking ’em as fighters against us. There won’t be many Annekteh-Took to kill, not if we do it fast — you know who they are, right? Start with ’em! And you know those plainsmen don’t know a thing about hill fighting — they ain’t even allowed a short bow.”

  “And just how do you know so much all of a sudden?” Trey demanded.

  “I been with Dacey for weeks,” Blaine said, standing up to stare him straight in the eye. “And I’m the only one here who got two good looks at their camp before they moved in on us. I heard ’em talking and I know they’re plain thick when it comes to mountain woods. They’re fighters, not hunters. Well, we’ll hunt ’em!”

  “Maybe we can do it,” Burl said slowly.

  “An’ maybe we can’t,” Trey countered.

  “It’s only a few days now till those others show up.” Blaine plunked her fists on her hips and challenged him with a lift of her chin. “More Annekteh, more guards. What chance do we have then? And if it don’t work...we won’t be no worse off.”

  Still there was hesitation on Trey’s face, though Burl turned to him, nudging his shoulder, nodding. “She’s right about that, Trey. Even if we can’t do it...better to have tried than to give up now.”

  Trey looked...frightened. That was it — frightened. Not, she thought, of the fight — but of the responsibility of making the decision. “Trey, we don’t have to tell the other boys that Dacey’s gone,” she said. “You know ’em best — you split ’em up and assign groups. You know the pattern of the guards, too. We can do it, Trey.”

  We have to believe we can, if we’re gonna even try.

  “Yeah,” Trey mumbled. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. But you gotta be certain about holding that hall, Blaine, ’cause without Dacey aiming us...well, we sure ain’t gonna be able to hurt our own unless we know they’re Taken.”

  “I can make the hall safe,” Blaine asserted, pretending she was as confident as she let on.

  “All right, then.” Trey scrunched pine needles beneath his heel and walked away, leaving Burl holding the rest of the biscuits out to Blaine.

  “Iff’n we hear anything about Dacey...” he said.

  “Thanks,” Blaine said, taking the bundle. If she heard anything about Dacey, she had every intention of trying to get him free. But she didn’t say it, not right away. She knew they’d both argue against it, that they couldn’t risk losing any of the three of them, not if they wanted this fight to go on.

  Blaine watched the boys make their way down the hill; too soon, she was alone. B
lue nudged her hand, his eyes on the biscuits, wagging his tail so hopefully that his bottom wiggled and danced against the ground where he sat. She turned to him, suddenly very glad for his presence. It was going to get lonely enough up here as it was.

  ~~~~~

  Does anyone know you’re here in Shadow Hollers? What happened to our Brethren in the south? Will there be others of you coming?

  He’d been tired and light-headed, knowing Blaine was right and at the same time unable to risk her — unable to risk that his seeings held truth. Blue, roaring to Blaine’s rescue, spitted on a sword. The shelter in the background, Blaine kicking it down, struggling between two men...

  Truth, indeed. He’d known to watch for them. Should have told her the seeing. Should have stayed away.

  But the camp needed securing. From the camp the Annekteh could find the clearing. In the clearing they could find Blaine and Dacey. It had seemed like too great a hazard, when the Annekteh were roused to the point of throwing around magic in the mist.

  To someone who couldn’t think straight.

  Drugged. Dry mouth, empty stomach, full bladder. Throbbing head. Don’t talk, don’t talk. Say nothing. It was the only way to make sure none of his words would be betrayal.

  Would you like something to eat? Would you like us to loosen those ropes? Implied promises. The smell of dusty straw in his nostrils, the scratch of it against his cheek. The questions, over and over again.

  Does anyone know you’re here in Shadow Hollers? What happened to our Brethren in the south? Will there be others of you coming?

  Pain, then; plenty of it. Annekteh pain, scorching along his nerves until he had no control over his body. Annekteh fear — drugs and plains magic. Until he couldn’t take it any more and live, and so found a seer’s wall to hide behind. A wall he knew he might never make his way back through, where he felt nothing — but could still dimly perceive Annekteh fury at the old seer’s trick. Where he could barely hear the pronouncement about his life — cold, cold words. He can still be of use. A warning. But first we clip his wings.

  They propped him up against worn stall boards, limp and unresisting. They pulled his eyes open, and through the veil of the seer’s wall, he saw gloved hands bearing a dipper of water, water that splashed into his open eyes. And then he saw nothing at all.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 17

  Blaine spent a long day alone and worried, and expecting to stay that way. But just before nightfall, Trey returned, Burl at his side and the redbone hound at his heels. Blaine, caught by surprise near the tiny trickle of a creek not too far away, heard them call and came running, her hair wet from a feeble washing. Unbraided, it fell below her bottom, swirling wetly around her arms and snagging in the pines as she ran to see why they’d come back. It couldn’t be good....

  From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” Impatiently, she flipped a length of hair back over her shoulder. “What’re y’all doing back so soon?”

  “Dacey,” Trey said grimly.

  Her heart — her hope — fell so hard that she felt it hit in her tightened throat, her suddenly heavy stomach. “He...he ain’t dead, is he?”

  Trey shook his head, exchanged a knowing look with Burl. “He’d be better off that way, from what I seen.”

  She looked from one to the other of them and finally burst out with, “What?”

  “They got him all right,” Burl said. As usual, he’d taken the opportunity to bring her food; he handed her a sack that she took without even thinking. “They been at him all last night, from the looks of it. They’ve got him blind somehow, though there ain’t a mark on him — leastways, not near his eyes.”

  “Blind,” Blaine repeated in a whisper. Struggling to remain calm, she asked, “How’d you find him?”

  “Didn’t have to,” Trey told her. “Right before suppertime, they had us at the hall — all the boys that wasn’t out hunting, all the men over from the timbering. They marched him right out in front of us like some kinda prize. Wanted us to know they had ’im.”

  Burl added, “And they wanted answers.”

  So Dacey wasn’t giving them none. Blaine found that she was twisting her hair, and forced herself to quit. “And?” she said.

  “I purely thought Estus was going to give us up, from jitters if nothing else,” Trey said, but from the relief in his voice, she knew Estus hadn’t. “Lucky that the timber men made enough protest to draw attention away. The leader said he’d give us the night to think about it. Seems to want to do it without Taking us all — like he thinks that means he’ll have broke us. He says iff’n he learns who all’s in with Dacey, no harm’ll come to ’em — nor Dacey. He just wants it out in the open.”

  “You believe that?” Blaine asked, incredulous.

  Burl said, “We don’t.”

  “We can’t take no chances either way,” Trey said. “Iff’n no one comes to the leader before then, he’s gonna kill Dacey tomorrow. An’ he’s gonna have all the women and children gathered there to watch.” He paused and put extra emphasis on his next words. “In the hall.”

  Understanding dawned. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about any of ’em being left unwarded,” she said. “We’re...we’re gonna do it —” she didn’t have to say what it was, not for any of them — “tomorrow morning.”

  “We surely are,” Trey said. “Estus is making the rounds now, telling the boys. We’re gonna stick right to plan, and not tell no men till it’s happening. This is bungled up enough as it is.”

  Blaine’s wet hair felt suddenly cold against her shoulders; she wrapped her arms around herself. Something was yet unsaid, else Burl wouldn’t be hovering with such an anxious look on his face. Else — Burl wouldn’t be here at all, not just to tell her this news. She tossed her head, a small gesture that was only false assertiveness, and lifted her chin, taking the conversation her own way. “I’m going after him,” she said. “You all gonna help, or not?”

  She half expected them to protest, but Trey only gave a grave nod. “We got to,” he said. “Ain’t no way we’ll get to him tomorrow, in all the fuss. They’ll kill him first thing, iff’n they can. And it don’t matter if we do get him out — all the families will show up at the meeting hall tomorrow like they’ve been told. Everything else is set — the boys know what to do. If something was to happen — well, so long as one of us can use those wards... Besides,” he added, his voice surprisingly casual, “I said it oncet — I been in Taker hands once myself. I just can’t leave him that way, not without trying to do something.”

  Burl said, “Me’n Trey are out coonhunting. Thing is, we got some coon from Estus before we come. So we need to find something else to do with ourselves.”

  “You just wait for me to braid up this hair, and I’ll show you something to keep plenty busy!”

  But Blaine’s fingers were too riled up, like the rest of her, to braid hair without a lot of fumbling and dropped sections. She was taken flatly by surprise when Trey stepped in. He muttered something about braiding his little sister’s hair, and quickly finished the job for her, even binding them together in the back like she often did.

  They moved out with surprisingly little fuss and bother, heading over the ridges to the meeting hall, and getting there just as final darkness came over the mountains. Now Blaine stole a glance at Trey as they eased themselves to the ground above the meeting hall barn. He wasn’t fussing at her any more, challenging her every word like he’d done when they’d met. Only days ago, now. Part of her didn’t believe it; part of her was more grateful than she would have anticipated. He just, she decided, had other things on his mind.

  Far, far back up the ridge, Blue sounded an indignant bark; he and the redbone waited tied and unhappy. Mage lurked somewhere close by, unobtrusive and omnipresent. Below them, the barn waited — a blot of darkness under a waning moon and an increasingly cloudy sky. There were no streaks of light peeking from around the shuttered loft and closed doors, nor
was there light coming from the meeting hall.

  “Don’t they even have a night watch?” Blaine asked, in quiet disbelief.

  “I reckon they do,” Trey said. “Reckon he’s just not pointing hisself out with a light.”

  “It was what we were hoping you could help us with,” Burl told her. “We’ll check it out on our way in, but we need you to watch for us while we’re getting him out. Someone could come up on us.”

  “But — what’ll I do iff’n he does?”

  Trey dismissed the question with an impatient shake of his head. “It don’t matter. Any noise you make’ll warn us — tell ’im you’ve come to talk to the leader about Dacey, for all o’ that. He won’t see you well enough to know you ain’t been around before. We’ll get you out of it before it comes to that.”

  She wondered if he was as confident as he sounded. And she thought it was all easy for him to say — she’d rather be fetching Dacey and let Trey do the watching. But on the hill above the enemy camp wasn’t a good time to argue about it, so she said nothing, discretion newly acquired. Instead she stared at the barn, a building in which she’d often played.

  It was built into the side of the hill, and the lower level had a main door that faced the hall, while the side against the hill had a loft door. It was possible to walk into either one of them. The loft held hay and grain, and the lower level had four stalls and a big fat aisle. Dacey, the boys thought, was in one of the stalls. In two of the others were plains mules, creatures they would take great care not to alarm.

  Without discussion, they crept down the hill to the loft door, tucked into the darkest shadow the night offered. They moved slowly, step by step, steadying one another at the awkward places, Trey at the lead and Burl coming down behind Blaine.

  Just outside the door they put their heads together, and Trey, in a murmur so low there was barely any sound at all, said, “We go in slow. But there might be one of ’em in there — the first any of us makes a big noise, we all got to go for it. Once we’re below, Blaine, take the main door.”