After an overwhelming amount of confusion and far too many people speaking at once, Zenn found herself sitting, dazed, on a chair-sized sandstone block that had once been part of the chapel’s foundation. Hild made her promise to stay put, then hurried off to fetch the first aid kit. Zenn was happy to just sit, to do nothing, say nothing. Her body ached, her scraped face hurt, her thoughts skittered and slid this way and that.
Close by, the councilors stood in a milling group, their voices a din of excited babble, some of them gesturing toward the sunkiller floating serenely above them.
“Otha Scarlett,” Vic’s voice cut through the general murmuring. The woman was shouting as she picked her way toward them through the rubble field of the chapel ruins. “What did I tell you?” She whipped her cowboy hat off, flailed it in the air at the sunkiller. “I said this thing was dangerous. And what did you say? You assured me, assured us all it was safe. Is this your idea of safe? Nearly killing these good people?”
“Vic,” Otha raised one hand as if to ward off her anger, “This kind of thing, equipment failure like this, no one could have foreseen that it…”
“No. You never should have allowed these people to put themselves at risk to begin with.” She turned her flushed face to the group of councilors, her anger now coming under control, turning to a calm, controlled fury. “Well, your little demonstration today has been very educational. Very educational, indeed. And I think I can speak for everyone on the council when I tell you that it would be irresponsible, yes, it would be a dereliction of our duty if we allowed the cloister’s lease to be renewed. I’m sorry to say it. I’ve known you a long time, Otha. But after all the other accidents with your creatures, all the other misjudgments on your behalf, and now this – well, it simply leaves us no choice but to terminate your tenure on this property.” She caught sight of Zenn then, and pointed at her. “Your own niece, Otha. Look at her. Think about what might have happened.”
“She’s lying!” Zenn yelled, jumping to her feet as if waking from a dream. “Graad Dokes cut the cables. To make us look bad. To scare the council and make them vote against us.”
“Zenn,” Otha turned to her, scowling, eyes flashing. “Don’t.”
“Otha, my heavens,” Vic gave Zenn a pitying look. “Zenn, you’ve had a frightening experience, a terrible ordeal. You’re confused.” She turned to the crowd. “But we mustn’t blame her. It’s not her…”
“It’s true. Graad Dokes did it,” Liam yelled, his voice brittle with emotion. He’d climbed up on a mound of rubble behind the crowd, and they all turned as one to stare. “He made me do the other things, the whalehound, the sloo.”
“He… he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Vic said, half-laughing, walking toward him.
Liam pointed down at Vic, who shook her head, to show how sad he was making her.
“We did all those things. Me and Dokes. And it was all her idea.”
“Me? Liam, that’s… how ridiculous.” She laughed again, to show them all this was simply too outrageous to believe. “How could I ever make you do such things?”
“You told Dokes. And Dokes told me. Told me if I didn’t do it, he’d make me sorry. That he’d hurt me. That he’d… hurt Zenn.”
“Graad Dokes said that?” Otha took a step toward Liam. “You heard Graad threaten Zenn?”
“Vic.” It was Ren. The constable had been listening from behind the group. Now, he came forward. “You know what in the Nine Hells any of this is about?”
“I assure you I have no idea. It’s… I have no idea.”
“Uh huh…” Ren looked from Vic to Liam.
“Why would I be involved with anything like this? This boy… Liam here has no proof. Not a whit. It’s all in his mind. What with his mother taking off, being left on his own. You all know what a hard time he’s had, the trouble he’s gotten himself into. It’s no wonder he’s got things all mixed up in his head. And really, now, what reason could I possibly have to…”
“This kind of reason,” Liam said. He pulled an old file folder filled with yellowing paper out of his shirt. He brandished it in the air.
“What is that, boy?” Ren said, going to him.
“It’s proof. The original cloister lease,” Liam shouted out so everyone could hear.
“Where’d you get that?” Ren asked.
“From Vic’s file cabinet, at the ranch.”
“Liam Tucker,” Vic said, going toward him. “You had no right to go pawing through my… Ren, these are private documents. He has no right.”
“Give those to me, boy.” Ren walked over and took the folder from Liam.
“Those are private, Ren.” Vic came at Ren and tried to snatch the papers out of his hand. He pulled away from her. “Ren Jakstra, give me those.”
“Vic, I asked you about the lease documents two months ago, when this whole thing about the vote came up. You said you didn’t have the papers, had no idea where they could be.”
Vic said nothing to this, but just reached again for the file. Ren held her off with the cast on his arm.
“I can tell you what it says,” Liam shouted. “It says if the cloister lease is ever revoked, the land goes back to the original lease holder. That’s the LeClercs.”
“Vic?” It was Pelik Shandin. “You never mentioned you had a stake in this vote.” Pelik came to peer over Ren’s shoulder at the papers. “You gettin’ the cloister land? That would be a conflict of interest, Vic. Clear conflict. You shoulda told us.”
Several voices in the crowd agreed.
“Now listen, Pelik Shandin. Listen all of you,” Vic said, confronting the group. “You know my family’s been in this valley since day one. You know the very land we’re standing on right here used to belong to the LeClercs. And the LeClercs took care of it. We’ve been the lifeblood of this valley since the first settlers got here. We supplied you and your families with food. Food when there was nothing else. Now, you want to let the fruits of this land go to keeping these monsters alive? Instead of feeding you? Feeding and clothing your children? If that’s what you want, then you go right ahead. But I’m here to fight for you. I’m here to fight for the human beings in this valley.”
She stood then, her angry gaze raking the crowd, going face to face, her body rigid, her entire being daring someone to speak, daring anyone to tell her she was wrong.
“So, Vic,” Ren said. He squinted at her over the rims of his dark glasses. “Is it true? You put Liam up to it? And Graad? You have them interfere with the animals out here, to make the council vote your way?”
Vic said nothing, but just stared hard ahead, looking out at the ruins of the chapel.
“Huh… well,” Ren tucked the folder under his cast arm and took Vic gently by one elbow. She jerked away from him. He took her arm again, more firmly this time. “I think you better come into the station with me. We’ll get Graad to come in, too. Have a little talk. Liam…?” Ren turned, but Liam was gone. “Damn. Anybody see where that boy went?”
No one had seen.
“Alright. No matter. I’ll round him up later.” Ren addressed the crowd. “I’ll need statements from you folks about the whole council thing. Pelik, why don’t you come by this afternoon and we’ll arrange a time when we can get everybody together.”
Hild arrived with the first aid kit, and began daubing antiseptic on Zenn’s torn cheek. The Kiran emissary was at Zenn’s shoulder then, leaning down close enough for Zenn to smell the sweet, musky scent of incense that clung to the red and gold robes.
“Please allow me to extend my thanks to you, novice. Your efforts to save our sunkiller, to in fact save us all, were nothing less than extraordinary.” The Kiran straightened, addressed Otha. “I can assure you my report to his highness Sool will mention this. I will not stint in praising the quality of the healers in training at your cloister.”
“Well, we appreciate that,” Otha told her. Then, in a louder voice, he said, “And, everybody.” The crowd stopped its muttering. “I just wan
t to say, in front of Zenn and all of you here: I was wrong. When things started going bad at the cloister… I blamed Zenn. I should’ve known better. Looking back now I can see it. In every case, she put her animals’ welfare ahead of her own. And as you all know, she just risked her life to save your lives. And the life of her patient.” He looked down at where Zenn sat. “You did us proud.” His big hand rested softly on her shoulder as he grinned down at her. “And I think it’s safe to say your performance today evens the score for you.”
“What?” Zenn said, her dazed mind unable to keep up.
“Your third test. Perfect score. Congratulations, Novice, First Order.”
The rush of relief that rose up inside Zenn was almost enough to bring tears. But she was too exhausted even for that. With what remained of her strength, she stood and hugged her uncle tight.
“Alright, Vic,” Ren said, nodding at the woman. “Come on now.”
“No.” She braced her feet, refusing to move. “Not till we vote.” Her voice was shaking, her eyes wide. “Not till I see this land returned to its rightful owners.”
Ren was about to push her on ahead of him when Pelik stepped out in front of the crowd.
“Wait a second, Ren. If that’s what she wants, might as well get this outta the way.” He turned to the others. “Lookit, I know we’ve all got our issues with the cloister. I know Otha here prob’ly owes most of us for unpaid bills. But I think we also know without a doubt that we owe our lives to this girl here. Am I right? Show of hands. All in favor of extending the land lease to the Ciscan cloister for the next five-year period?” Every councilor’s hand went into the air. “All opposed?” He turned to Vic. “Looks like you’re outvoted, Vic.”
“You think this is the end of it?” Vic hissed, her face a twisted mask. “Well it’s not. There’s more going on here than you little people and your little minds can even comprehend.” She thrust one hand into the air, pointing at the sky. “Earth has not forgotten about Mars. There are changes coming to this world.” She brought her arm down, pointed out at the land around them, at the crowd of people standing, open-mouthed, watching her. “Changes. Changes are coming. And you people... will either be part of them, or be swept away. All of you. Swept away!”
“Alright, Vic,” Ren said, nudging her to walk ahead of him. “Let’s go, before you make this worse than it needs to be.”
With a last, wild-eyed glare, Vic spun away from the crowd.
Zenn watched Ren escort her away toward the main gate and all at once she was simply unable to stand on her feet any longer. She sat down hard on the stone block, all her unfelt aches and pains flooding back, along with a surge of fatigue so powerful it was difficult to hold her head up.
“You are truly blessed, Healer,” Fane said to her. As he walked off to join the emissary, he looked back to give her a final, bright smile. “Surely, the Ghost Shepherds guide your path.”
Zenn couldn’t muster the strength for a reply to this, and just rolled her eyes at him.
“To think, Liam Tucker,” Hild said, steadying Zenn’s face with one hand so she could apply a layer of derma-plast to her wound. “Why, I’ve known that boy since he was a baby.”
Zenn couldn’t make herself think about any of it anymore, not Liam or Graad or Vic or what had just happened.
“Liam should’ve come to me,” Otha said, his face dark. “He should’ve come to somebody, said something.”
“Well, this should do till later,” Hild said, inspecting her handiwork on Zenn’s cheek. “I’ll take a closer look back at the infirmary. See if you need stitches. Now then, can you walk?”
THIRTY-TWO
As it turned out, Zenn could walk, if she leaned on Hild, and she didn’t need stitches. She did, however, feel as if she needed to lie down and shut her eyes and not move a single muscle for a very long time. Half an hour later, she was in her own bed at the dormitory, with Hild fussing over her.
“I still cannot believe you did such a thing, climbing on that animal’s back, that high up.” Hild looked down at where Zenn lay. “But I suppose you are your mother’s child. And this is exactly the sort of thing Mai would have done. Just to see the looks on our faces.”
“It’s not like I thought it through, you know,” Zenn said stiffly, the act of speaking making her cheek smart. “I just… did it.”
“Well, thinking it through or not, it was you who kept our little cloister from being bulldozed down for goat pasture. Your uncle has lost a lot of sleep the past few weeks, I can tell you. Worried himself sick over the lease, and over you, child.”
“I know,” Zenn said. “And Sister, do me a favor, please.” Hild regarded her. “Tell Otha I’ve decided I’ll be doing my acolyte year here at the cloister, will you?”
“Did he think otherwise? Whatever gave him that idea?”
“I…” Zenn felt a momentary pang of guilt. “…can’t imagine.”
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be relieved to hear it. Relieved that everything is finally settled, the cloister safe.”
“It is safe then? For another five years?”
“As far as the council is concerned, yes…” Zenn could tell there was more to it than that.
“But…?”
“There’s still the mortgage to deal with, of course.”
Of course, Zenn thought. The bank in Zubrin wouldn’t wait forever. If only her father was here to help. If only the Indra problem… wasn’t a problem. If only Liam Tucker hadn’t lied to her over and over. If only, if only….
“Sister, what will happen? To them… for doing what they did?”
“I can’t say, child. Vic’s in custody. Ren will have to track down Graad and the boy. Then we’ll see what everyone has to say.”
“I guess I owe Ren an apology, huh? For even imaging it was him.” Zenn balked at the thought, but she’d been wrong and had to own up to it. “I suppose I should’ve known he wasn’t the kind who’d do bad things to our animals. I should’ve seen what Vic was up to.”
“Yes, well, I’ve known Vic LeClerc since forever. And I didn’t see it.”
“What do you think she meant? About Earth not forgetting about Mars? About everything getting swept away?”
“Who can tell, child? Vic isn’t quite right just now, if you ask me.” She gave Zenn a long, appraising look. “And you, Zenn. These… spells you’ve been having around the animals.”
Zenn started to speak. But Hild raised a hand to her. “Otha told me. He’s been worried about you. I’m sure it’s just been the strain. All the disruptions. I know you blamed yourself. But now we know who was behind all of this.”
“No.” She tried to sit up. Hild rested a hand on her shoulder, eased her back down. “It’s not the strain. I’m sure it’s something else. I can’t really explain it.”
“And on top of it all, you’ve gotten yourself into a state over your father.” Hild said, seeming not to hear what Zenn was trying to tell her. “Warra will get in touch any day now, and tell us he’s fine, I’m sure. You need to stop worrying.”
“Hild…”
“Hush now, hush.” She patted Zenn’s shoulder, smiling down at her. “No more talk.” She went to the door and switched off the light. “You get your rest. You’ve earned it. Good night, novice.”
Hild went out and closed the door. The room was dark and, after all the commotion, deeply, wonderfully quiet.
Zenn decided Hild was right about one thing. She desperately needed to sleep. She’d just gotten comfortable when she heard Katie emerging from her hiding place behind the desk.
“Katie-kate,” Zenn whispered. Leaning over on her side, she signed: “Katie come up. I missed you.”
The rikkaset padded over to the bed, sprang lightly up and moved to sit at Zenn’s side, her big eyes fixing on the derma-plast coating Zenn’s cheek.
“Friend-Zenn bad there, bad on the face? Hurts?”
“Doesn’t hurt,” Zenn signed back. “Not much. But I’m tired. Very sleepy. Katie sleepy?”
“Yes. Katie and Friend-Zenn sleep right now.”
The rikkaset moved to the head of the bed, paced a few quick circles to knead the pillow to her satisfaction, plopped down and wrapped her tail around her body. Zenn nestled her head next to the rikkaset’s warm, soft fur, reached up to scruff one of her velvety ears and closed her eyes.
Zenn couldn’t identify the sound that woke her. She lay still for a few seconds, sat up and peered into the darkness. The night breeze on her face was sharp with the sweet-and-sour scent of blooming gensoy. Hadn’t Hild closed that window before helping her into bed?
Then, she sensed movement in the darkened room and, like the touch of ghostly fingertips, something brushed against her neck. There was a quick prickle of heat on her skin and instantly, as if smothered by some great weight, she fell back onto the bed. She tried to move, but her body simply failed to respond. She was paralyzed!
She lay awkwardly, just as she’d fallen. She could see, but her vision was beginning to blur and she couldn’t blink her eyes. She could hear, but the only sound was her own breath, heaving in her chest.
She saw something going past her head. It was Katie. The rikkaset jumped from the bed to Zenn’s desk, where she crouched low. Then, the animal’s form grew faint, and she blended, disappearing from view.
Zenn was facing in the direction Katie had been looking. In a nauseating flash of dread, she saw it: someone, something, in the room, motionless, in black shadow below the window. Her mind told her to cry out, but no sound came. She felt herself growing groggy, weak, like she’d been drugged… Sedative? Neuro-toxin?
She fought to maintain control, to keep from panicking. The figure by the window came toward her, moving with a strange, shuffling gate. It looked like – no, that couldn’t be right – it seemed to be walking on three legs. No known life form had three legs; even in her fear and increasing mental haze she knew that to be true.
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