Red Gold Bridge

by Sarath, Patrice

  She put the water bottle back into her pack and felt a tremor. No, more of a shiver, the ground sliding for a moment out from beneath her. Lynn caught herself. Red Bird threw up his head and shied sideways. The dog put her tail beneath her legs and crouched. Overhead the leaves rattled, then subsided.

  “Well,” she said out loud, trying for some kind of bravado. “Looks like this must be the place.”

  She didn’t want to be mounted if a bigger earthquake hit, so she shook the reins over the horse’s head and whistled for the dog. She patted the dog’s head when it responded. “It’s okay, pup. You’re doing fine.”

  The tremors reignited her sense of urgency, though. If the gordath was waking up, that meant that Joe and Arrim were losing control. Hang in there, Joe, she thought. I’m coming.

  They were deep in the woods. It smelled wet and rotting. The sky between the tall trees was white, late summer heat bleaching out the blue. The marsh dozed under the buzzing of insects. Out in the distance she could see dead trees, ghostly and stark against the sky. Farther out was a line of blue where the marsh turned to lake, and across from there was another line of hills.

  From a distance, it looked beautiful, cool, and inviting. “I could go for a swim,” she told the animals. Red Bird twitched an ear back at her, but the dog was having none of it. They trudged on, and now the trail bent toward the lake. For the first time, a cool breeze swept over them. Everyone perked up.

  A quarter of an hour later they were on the banks of the lake on a small, shingled beach. A circle of blackened wood and stone showed where someone had already camped there. Lynn breathed a sigh of relief at the sign of life, no matter how stale. The dog went to nose at the water, standing in it up to her belly and lapping eagerly. Red Bird pulled forward, too, but Lynn took him firmly in hand. “Hold on there, sir,” she said. She let him drink a little, then pulled his head up and walked him around. A horse that drank too much too fast could give himself colic, and colic could be fatal. She controlled his sips until he was sated, and then loosened his cinch and let him rest. She let herself empty the first water bottle while she looked around. Her gaze sharpened as she caught the sight of some footprints in the rough sand. Her heart sank. She began to walk cautiously around the little beach. Dammit, she thought. If she had thought first, she never would have walked Red Bird all over the damn place. She found more footprints where she had never trodden, and there it was, so clear it made her blood run cold: the unmistakable footprint with the narrow heel and spade-shaped sole of a cowboy boot.

  Joe had been here.

  Red Bird came up behind her to look, and she pushed back against his chest to keep him from fouling the footprint. The boot print and its mate, a more blurred version, pointed toward the woods, away from the lake and the trail. So Joe had gone that way. Sure enough, a trail led back into the woods, wider than the one they had followed. There were no more footprints that she could see, but more importantly, there were no hoofprints. They were on foot, and that meant she had an edge. Lynn cast a look at the sky. It was late afternoon, the sun shining across the lake, casting light and shadow across the water. A heron lifted off as she watched, a fish flapping in its beak. Let the horse and the dog rest, she thought, and she removed Red Bird’s saddle so the horse could roll and scratch himself. After that, it would be Pony Express time after all.

  Fifteen minutes later, after a granola bar shared with the dog, she was ready. Lynn saddled up, tightened the girth, and swung on board. She gathered the reins, and the horse alerted at once. Lynn glanced at the dog and whistled. The dog would have to follow at its own pace and catch up with her later. She pushed the horse up onto the bank, jumping over a tangle of tree roots and driftwood. It was wide here, and grassy. Red Bird burst into a trot and then a canter.

  Good footing for traveling at speed. Lynn put Red Bird into a hand gallop. His hoofbeats drumming into the soft grass, the horse leaped forward, ears pricked and tail thrashing. Lynn leaned forward in the big saddle, hands moving rhythmically, riding like a cowboy, sliding down along Red Bird’s neck to avoid low branches. Hang on, Joe, she thought as Red Bird galloped hard along the trail. Please hang on.

  “She’s not here,” Mrs. Felz said. The woman sat on the front porch, but instead of rocking leisurely, she sat very still. Her gardening gloves and trowel sat on the table next to her, and her worn hands were clasped very tightly in her lap over a thick envelope. She looked as if she were going to cry or had been crying. “I don’t—I’m not sure where she went.”

  Kate didn’t like to talk to Mrs. Felz. She didn’t know what Joe’s mom knew or didn’t know, and she hated the idea that she might spill the beans.

  “Did she say when she was coming back?”

  Mrs. Felz shook her head, and Kate began to get worried. That didn’t sound like Lynn at all.

  “And she didn’t say where she was going?” Kate looked at Colar. He shrugged. Kate looked around. “Wait. Her car’s still here.”

  “She took the truck and horse trailer and that little old red horse that just showed up—oh, and the dog. A little stray dog. She said—she said the dog might have something to do with Joe.”

  “With Joe!” Kate exclaimed. “Mrs. Felz, you have to tell us. Where did she go? Did she say anything?”

  “Did she say how long she might be?” Colar put in.

  A truck and trailer rig rumbling up the drive caught their attention. Oh my God, she’s back, Kate thought with a breath of relief. But it wasn’t Lynn; it was Sue Devin, and she parked the trailer and marched up to the house.

  “All right, I need to know what is going on,” she snapped, her eyes bright and her short white hair standing on end as if she had been running her fingers through it. “What is Lynn Romano up to?”

  They repaired into the kitchen. Mrs. Felz got everyone iced tea. The curtains lifted sluggishly in the fitful breeze, but the kitchen was cool and dark.

  “She told me she might be gone a week or more, and if she was, I was to open this.” Joe’s mom held up the thick envelope. It was still sealed, as if she was determined to follow Lynn’s instructions to the letter. “She said you would help me run the farm, Miz Devin, while she was away, if I needed.”

  “That girl,” Sue said with exasperation. “She called me from the trailhead out at the nature preserve, asking me to pick up her rig. She knows there’s no riding out on that trail. I have no earthly idea what she is up to.”

  “She provisioned herself for a long trip,” Mrs. Felz said. “She didn’t use one of those little bitty saddles y’all use, either. She put a stock saddle on that horse.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sue said. “What does she intend to do, play cowboys and Indians three hundred feet from a major highway?”

  Kate and Colar exchanged glances, then ducked their gazes.

  “How are you two involved with this?” Sue asked, turning her keen gaze on them.

  “Us? We were just wondering where she went,” Kate said as innocently as she could.

  “Uh-huh,” Sue said, dryly.

  Mrs. Felz spoke up. “Lynn said that it was something to do with Joe. I don’t know any more than you, but if she is going to bring my son back, then I think we should be doing all we can to help her, not stop her.”

  “Something to do with Joe?” Sue said. There was something else in her expression now, some connection that Kate didn’t get. “Interesting.” She turned to Mrs. Felz and covered her hand with hers. She gave it a squeeze. “I knew your son. He was a good man. He was unjustly accused, and I think he just wanted to disappear, after all that. But if after all this time Lynn Romano has known where he was and hasn’t told any of us, well, I think when she does come back from her little game, she is going to have to be more forthcoming with all of us, but especially with you.”

  Mrs. Felz looked on the verge of tears again. Kate was relieved when they heard a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” she said. She went through to the dark living room and peered out th
e screen door at the strange man standing there.

  “Can I help you?” she said dubiously. He didn’t look like a client or a client’s father. He smelled of booze, and his clothes were worn and stained . . . He’s a crow. He’s one of Marthen’s crows. Kate stumbled back, on the verge of screaming, and started to slam the front door shut.

  “No, wait!” he cried out, tearing at the flimsy screen door and pushing back at her. “No, I’m here to warn you! Lynn Romano! Where is Lynn Romano! She’s in terrible danger!”

  He said his name was Gary. Mrs. Felz took one look, or one smell more like, and immediately put on water for coffee. Gary spilled the details, his hands and his voice shaking.

  “Listen, the restaurant guy, Mike Garson, has it in for Miss Romano, and he said he would give the general guns if he would take her out. I didn’t think he’d do it. I thought he was just leading Marthen on. But he brought the guns today, and they’re all armed now. Marthen’s crazy, man. I know I helped him some, but I was trying to get him to stop. I didn’t let him kill that kid, and I swear I wouldn’t help him kidnap that girl, that Kate kid.”

  “That would be me,” Kate said with a dry voice. Gary looked at her, and to her horror he started to cry.

  “I didn’t know what he was like,” he said, his words hard to understand. “I didn’t know. I—I couldn’t stop helping him. He got inside my head and made me crazier and crazier.” He covered his face with his hands. “I wanted to stop drinking, and he just made it worse.”

  Sue Devin put her hand on his shoulder, patting him a little. Kate was impressed with the way she didn’t ask any questions, just faced all the weirdness confronting her with equanimity.

  “Sir,” Colar said. “What is his plan?”

  Gary lifted his tear-streaked face.

  “He’s sending two of the worst guys over here to kill Miss Romano and anyone else who’s here, and to torch the place after.”

  The horses. Kate could feel the blood drain from her face. The barns going up in flames, the horses screaming in their boxes . . . She looked over at Sue and Mrs. Felz and saw that both women had the same expression.

  Scorched earth. It was his solution to everything. I have burned lots of villages, he once told her.

  “Not this time,” she muttered. They all looked at her, and she realized that she had spoken out loud.

  Sue Devin got to her feet. “Well, I believe this is a credible threat, and I’m going to call the police. In the meantime, we need to start evacuating horses, just in case the police can’t put a stop to it.”

  “That’s not all,” Gary said. His broken whisper had become stronger. They all turned to look at him. “He’s going to use the attack here as cover for when he goes after you, kid.”

  It didn’t shock or frighten her as much as she had feared. Now that the moment had come, Kate became suddenly clear-headed. She looked over at Colar.

  “This is it,” she told him. “It’s time.”

  He nodded.

  “What?” Mrs. Felz, Sue, and Gary all said at roughly the same time. Kate looked around at all of them, all these well-meaning adults who could not fathom, not even Gary, what they were in for.

  “He’s my problem, and I’m going to take care of him once and for all.”

  Sue put the word out that there was a gas leak at Hunter’s Chase, and all the area farms sent over their vans and horse trailers to evacuate the horses. Fancy Pendle ton sent their head groom and stable girls to help, along with their biggest van. Howard Fleming also sent word that Hunter’s Chase was welcome to any help he could offer. Kate and Colar got to work loading horses and notifying clients. Quite a few came out to help. Kate didn’t know how many people would move their horses permanently when this new crisis was over, but the first priority was the safety of their charges. That’s what Lynn would do. Horses first, business later.

  Sue also put Gary on to talk to the police, and soon there were fire engines and patrol cars parked all around the farm. Helicopters rattled overhead. Spare, gray Lieutenant Spencer came and talked with Gary for a long time, the homeless man telling him where the camp was. The police sent out another response team to find the camp in the woods that they had been looking for all this time.

  Under cover of the chaos, Kate and Colar plotted.

  “Do you think they’ll still try it, after all this?” she said in a low voice, after leading a pretty little Arab up the ramp of a High Hollow van and tying her with a safety knot. Colar faced her over the back of the horse—they had a bit of quiet to themselves for a moment. “Or will he call it off?”

  “It might be out of his hands,” he said, his face strained. “Once he sets the crows in motion, they may just come on of their own.”

  She nodded. She had seen the crows at work in the camp and then in battle. They were fearsome and fearless. The police would stop them—eventually. And if the police underestimated them, as they likely would, it could take too long. And let’s say the police take Marthen into custody, she thought. She knew from her mom’s cases that there would be little they could book him on. Attempted kidnapping? It was the word of a drunk accomplice against his. He had threatened to kill Austin, but he hadn’t committed murder. They’d keep him for a while, maybe even a few years, but he would get out eventually.

  And when he did, he would come after her again and again. The only way she would ever be safe was if Marthen went back to Aeritan. No, scratch that; even the gordath couldn’t stop him. The only way she would ever be safe was if he were dead.

  Last winter, in a snowy clearing a few miles from where they were standing right now and a whole world away, she had picked up a rifle and held Marthen in her sights. She could have killed him then. By the laws of Aeritan, she had every right, not to mention every bit of sympathy. But she lived by the laws of her world. And look where it got me, she thought, stroking the mane of the pretty little horse.

  Colar reached over and caught her hand. His fingers were strong and rough. She laced her fingers with his.

  “I meant what I said,” he said, his voice low. “I want you to marry me. Come to Aeritan. My father will give us his permission. You’ll be my lady when I am lord of Terrick.”

  We’re too young! she wanted to say. We can’t get married. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, because the most important thing wasn’t getting married, it was what she had to tell him, what she had been trying to tell him in the woods off Daw Road.

  “So here’s the thing,” she said, fighting tears. “You know I’m supposed to go to Harvard, right?” Colar looked at her, but his expression was quizzical. She laughed a little. He couldn’t help but know; her parents made sure the pressure was on all the time. “Yeah, well, I won’t get in.” There were too many hardworking girls with great GPAs and all the right bullet points on their résumés to compete with. She knew from Mojo that all the heart in the world only gets you so far. She looked down at their interlaced hands. “So it’s tempting to go with you, because I know they’ll be disappointed that I don’t get in. But I can’t use marriage to you as a—safety. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I can’t go with you. I want to become a doctor, and it’s going to mean a lot of hard work.” She blinked back tears. “I don’t think that I can do that and be your lady.”

  He was quiet for a long time. The horse remained perfectly still between them, her ears slack and her eyes drooping. The air in the van was thick with the scent of horses and manure.

  “I think you could do anything and be a Lady,” he said finally, and she could almost hear the capital letter. “I just don’t want to lose you.” He ducked under the mare’s neck and came around to Kate’s side, taking her in his arms in the narrow space. He kissed her, and she shivered, lost in the kiss.

  “I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered. “You have to stay. Colar, please.” She tried to laugh. “You could go to Harvard for me.”

  He kissed her again. “If I stayed, it would be Annapolis.”

>   She drew back, knowing surprise was written all over her face. When did he learn about Annapolis? He kind of shrugged. “Remember when you had to tell all the lords about how war is waged here?”

  Boy, did she. It had been the end of a long ride as the army trundled off to meet Lord Tharp’s men, not knowing what they were facing. Lieutenant Grayne had bundled Kate off to General Marthen’s tent, and all the officers were there. Then they had been so big and frightening with their strange accents and clothing. She was too scared to distinguish between them then, but she eventually learned to recognize Colar’s father, the gruff Lord Terrick; the almost grandfatherly Lord Shay, who loved to talk to her and Talios about his ailments, both real and imagined; and creepy Lord Favor with his avid eyes. That night, though, she told them what she knew about arms, warfare, tanks, jets and bombers, and—aircraft carriers . She looked at Colar, the question in her eyes. He grinned a little.

  “My father told me later what you said. Floating cities that launched flying machines? It was like something out of a kitchen tale. Then at school Mrs. Patterson talked to us about colleges, and I asked her where I could learn to fly. She gave me a lot of brochures, and one was for Annapolis. And so I thought, wouldn’t that be something, the son of the lord of Terrick flying jets?”

  In the silence, “Kung Fu Fighting” blared out in the little space. The mare tossed her head and whinnied, and Kate scrabbled frantically for her phone, prying it open. The sound cut off. Heart hammering, she snapped into the phone, “Mom! We’re at the stables! What more do you want?”

  The general’s deep voice filled her ear. “It’s time for you to come home, Kate Mossland.”

  Fourteen

  The summer grasses were gray and gold, their tassels sweeping over Crae’s stirrups and stroking Hero’s flanks while they cantered, trotted, walked, and cantered again in a rhythmic, steady pace as they headed northeast. He had left the crow behind in the first hours, the man striding along as if he were a pilgrim on his way to a holy place, with a far different purpose than Crae’s urgent one. Crae didn’t need his cryptic guidance anymore anyway; once he had been set on his path, it unfurled before him, though he didn’t know if he was hurtling himself toward the crow’s prophecy or fleeing from it.