“Why’s it called a Five Spot if you only use four stones?” Marisol asked.
“Our fire pit makes the fifth. As long as we keep the fire burning, the charm will work.”
After building a fire ring, Ray said to Marisol, “Redfeather taught me this one.” He took a small tin of saltpeter from his toby and opened it. Cupping a dash of the powder in between his hands, he blew into it. When he opened his fingers, flames leaped up from his hands. Ray shook the flames onto the kindling, and the fire was blazing within a few moments.
“Did it burn you?”
Ray held up his blackened palms with chagrin. “A little. I can’t quite do it like Redfeather.”
She laughed. “Price you pay for showing off.”
They ate some of the biscuits and salted ham Ma Everett had packed. After unrolling their blankets on either side of the fire, they lay down. Ray cocked his hands behind his head and looked up at the dark.
Marisol leaned up on one elbow. “You know, you were right about one thing. I’ve never slept outside like this. Never on the ground.”
“There’s nothing to it, really,” Ray said.
Marisol sighed and lay back down, shifting noisily a few moments. “Well, good night, Ray.”
“Good night.”
They woke with the sky still gray and their blankets speckled with dew.
“How’d you sleep?” Ray asked.
Her eyes puffy, Marisol grumbled, “It wasn’t my bed at Shuckstack.”
They rolled up their blankets and stirred the fire for breakfast. Marisol went down to a little creek with her valise to clean up. When she returned, she had changed into a more subdued cotton dress of hazel brown. The hem was still long, but Ray had to admit it was a better outfit for traveling in the wild.
As they ate, Ray spied a group of crows huddled on a branch just outside the perimeter of the Five Spot. Easing toward them, he spoke in a series of caws.
Startled, the crows scattered abruptly toward the fields. But one crow remained, leaning his bobbing beak down and squawking. Ray held out a cracker in his fingers, which the crow swooped down to take before soaring off on midnight wings.
Marisol asked, “What did you say to it?”
“I asked where the nearest train tracks are. They’re not too far. I bet it’s the MKT line that runs through the Indian Territory.”
Marisol got a fretful look. “You want to hop a ride on a train?”
“It would be a lot quicker.”
“Are we in a hurry?” Marisol asked.
“The sooner we reach Redfeather, the sooner we find out if the Machine is causing that Darkness.” Ray pulled his haversack to his shoulder.
Marisol gathered her valise and tied her hat beneath her chin. She murmured something to Javidos, who slid up onto her shoulder to flicker his tongue at her ear. Ray kicked out the fire, and they returned to the road.
Within a half hour’s time, the dirt road met the railroad tracks. Ray eyed the clapboard houses nearby and said, “We’d better follow the tracks out a way. If we’re to keep from being noticed, we’ll need a secluded spot to sneak aboard.”
They followed the tracks along the edges of the fields and farmhouses. The day was warm as Ray and Marisol trudged along the gravel of the right of way and took turns balancing on the tracks. The crow returned, swooping back and forth over their path before landing on one of the ties in front of Ray and giving a squawk.
“Get on, you beggar. You’ve got plenty to eat without my crackers.” The crow flapped away, calling back a few complaints.
Before long they came to a forest next to the tracks. After coming down off the right of way to the forest, Ray dropped his haversack and settled down onto it. Standing in the shade of the trees, Marisol narrowed her eyes back down the straight line of track.
“How long before the train comes?” she asked as she knelt to let Javidos slither out into a warm patch of light on the leaves. The copperhead slithered a few feet and then snapped out, catching a grasshopper in his jaws.
“Who knows,” Ray said, taking his bowie knife from his belt and stabbing it into the earth. “We’ll have to be ready.”
“What do we do when it comes?”
“Just follow me. We’ll run alongside and grab a ladder or jump in an open door if a boxcar is left open.”
“Won’t it be going fast?”
“Take off your boots,” Ray said.
Her almond eyes flashed. “Why?”
“Those boots might be good for walking around Shuckstack, but they’re no good for running. Hand them over.”
Marisol sat down and unbuttoned her boots, giving them to Ray with a concerned tilt to her eyebrows. Ray pulled the knife from the ground and wedged the blade between one boot’s heel and the sole. With a snap, the heel popped off. Ray pried off the other one and handed Marisol back her boots.
“Try that out,” he said.
She buttoned them back up and stood, taking a few skips to test them out. “I feel shorter,” she said.
“At least you won’t twist an ankle.” He waved a hand for her to come over to him. “Now the dress.”
Marisol clapped her hands protectively over her legs. “What are you going to do?”
“You’ll get all tangled up running in that.” He held up the knife and waved her forward again.
Reluctantly Marisol came over. Ray put the tip of the knife to the fabric between her knees. With a careful push, he ripped through, and Marisol gave a little whimper. “Come on,” Ray said. “You can sew it back up.”
Marisol bit her lip as Ray cut down with the knife, tearing the fabric from knee to hem. Marisol turned around, and Ray did the same to the back.
“Much better,” he said, sheathing his knife. He tipped his hat over his eyebrows and lay back on the haversack to wait. The crow returned once more, watching Ray from a limb overhead. Marisol sat on her valise, running her fingers over the torn slit in the front of her dress.
They had been sitting in the cool of the forest just long enough for Ray to get sleepy when Javidos snapped his head around toward Marisol, fluttering his tongue. Marisol sat upright. “The train!”
Ray jumped to his feet and raced up to the track. There was nothing in either direction, but when he placed his ear to the steel rail, he smiled. Running back into the shadows of the forest, he said, “You’re right. It’s coming.”
Marisol danced about an anxious turn, shifting her valise from one hand to the other before tucking it under her elbow. “What do we do?”
“Be calm.” He waved a hand at her. “We’ll wait for the locomotive to pass. That way the engineer won’t spot us. Then we run out onto the right of way. I’ll help you get aboard.”
The train was rounding out from the trees a mile away still, white sails of steam blasting out around the locomotive, with the long banner of black coal smoke behind.
“Are you sure about this?” Marisol asked. “We could trip and fall under the wheels.”
“Don’t trip,” Ray said, watching the train move closer.
Marisol unclasped her valise, taking out the gunnysack with Ma Everett’s food.
“What are you doing?” Ray exclaimed. “It’s nearly here.”
“Javidos. I don’t want him to get hurt.” She placed the reluctant copperhead inside. “I can’t fit the food back in.”
“Just give it here!” Ray barked.
Marisol fumbled to buckle the valise closed. She crouched with Ray behind the roots of an oak, whispering to herself in Spanish.
Within a few minutes, the train began rumbling past them. Behind the locomotive and tender were several empty passenger cars, followed by a long line of boxcars.
“Here we go!” Ray shouted, and he raced onto the right of way, kicking up a trail of dust as he built speed next to the train.
Ray looked over his shoulder. Marisol was sprinting, her jostling bag held tight to her chest. He had to admit he was impressed with how fast she was running. Ray looked for a way to
get aboard. The boxcar doors were shut, and he was about to grab a ladder when he spotted a boxcar coming toward them with the door left ajar.
“There!” He pointed.
As the boxcar moved along his side, Ray pumped his legs harder and reached for the door. It slid further open as he got a grip on the metal frame. Tossing in his haversack, followed by the gunnysack of food, and giving a quick jump, he had his belly on the boxcar’s floor. He rolled over to offer a hand to Marisol.
“Come on!” he shouted.
Her eyes were darting between Ray’s outstretched hand and the grinding wheels inches from her feet.
“Toss me your bag!” Ray called.
Marisol swung the valise to him, losing some speed in the process. Ray dropped the bag to the boxcar floor. He leaned back out, reaching for Marisol.
“You’re nearly here. Keep running!”
Marisol widened her stride, trying to move faster. Her fingers were nearly to Ray’s when her boot slid in the gravel and she fell, throwing up a cloud of dust as she tumbled end over end on the right of way.
“Marisol!” he shouted, snatching his haversack and Marisol’s valise and leaping out the door of the boxcar.
As Ray ran for her with the train moving away behind him, Marisol slowly sat up. Realizing she was all right, Ray slowed to a walk. He looked back over his shoulder and watched as the train disappeared past a copse of trees. When he reached her, she was still sitting in a tousle of torn fabric and disheveled hair.
Ray knelt by her, trying to mask his frustration. “You hurt?”
With tightened lips, she shook her head.
He held out his hand. She eyed his fingers, but ignored the offer. Instead she took her valise and opened it to let Javidos out. “Cómo estás, mi cariño?” she whispered, rubbing his nose across her dirty cheek.
Ray abruptly spun around to where the train had been.
“What?” Marisol mumbled.
“The food. The sack from Ma Everett with the food. I left it on the train!” He flung his haversack onto the crossties and gave it a kick. Marisol flinched, holding Javidos away from Ray.
Ray ran his fingers under his hat, through his damp hair, took a deep breath, and picked back up his haversack.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?” Marisol asked.
“Let’s just go,” he said as he walked away.
They followed the train tracks on for mile after mile. The day wore on in silence but for their footsteps and chortles of the crow still following them. By nightfall, they found a stream running through a culvert under the tracks and made their way to where the stream meandered into a forest.
Marisol found several stones, which she placed to make the Five Spot. Ray gathered wood for a fire and knelt before the growing flames, poking them with a branch.
“Ray,” Marisol said.
He looked up at her with a flat expression.
“I really tried to catch up. I did my best. The train was going too fast.” She wiped angrily at her eye and turned away.
Ray sighed. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Marisol said. “I told you I could handle myself, but who was I fooling? Ma Everett was right. You were right. Look at me out here with my silly bag and dress. I’m no Rambler. I should never have come.” She was crying openly now, tears dripping from her long eyelashes, and Ray placed a hand on her shoulder. “And to top it all, I lost our food.”
“No, I lost the food.”
“But I fell and you had to get off in a hurry.”
“Marisol, you couldn’t help it. You were doing great. You just tripped is all. Could have happened to me.”
“I was scared to get on the train. It was just going so fast. I wasn’t trying hard enough, because I thought I might get hurt.”
“A train’s a deadly thing. I’m just glad you rolled the other way.”
Her black eyes still welled with tears, but she stopped crying. “You probably wish I’d rolled under the wheel and you’d be done with me.”
“No, I don’t! Come on. I’m glad you’re here.”
Marisol wiped her nose against her sleeve. “But what about food?”
“That I can handle,” Ray said as he stood. “I’m sorry to see Ma Everett’s good cooking gone, but I can find us some supper. You wait here.”
Ray went out into the dusky forest, and before darkness had settled, he returned. “Get out my pan. We’ll eat well tonight.”
With the aroma of sorrel, wild tubers, and forest mushrooms sizzling over the fire, Marisol inhaled deeply. “This might top Ma Everett.” She smiled.
Ray parceled out the hot meal and they ate, sitting side by side against the mossy bark of a fallen tree.
Ray lifted a slice of tuber with his spoon and said, “So how did you know the train was coming back there?”
“What do you mean? Javidos felt the vibrations.”
“I know, but, well, how did you know he felt them?”
“He told me.”
“Javidos doesn’t speak. When I talk to a crow or some animal, they answer back. But snakes don’t … speak.”
“I guess I just sense what he’s sensing sometimes. I always have with snakes. My grandfather taught me how. Sometimes I can even see what they see, if it’s a snake I’ve had for a while and I really understand them well.”
Ray sat quietly for several moments, and Marisol watched him as she ate.
“Why? What are you thinking?” she asked at last.
“It’s just—I’ve never thought before about how I speak to animals, or how I understand them. Their language is not like ours. It’s not made up of words, really, not like words mean to us.”
“You think it has more to do with sensing their thoughts, like it is for me.”
Ray nodded, still churning around the idea. His gaze went to the edge of the firelight, where on a low branch the crow that had been following them slept, little more than a shadow among the shadows.
“If I’m going to learn how to cross, I need an animal to help me.” Ray narrowed his eyes. “I need to get into the thoughts of that crow.”
9
THE COUNCIL OF THREE
“I CAN’T DO IT,” NEL SAID, DROPPING TO A BOULDER and panting heavily in the cool of the forest. “The fox’s form. It still eludes me.”
Sally took out a canteen and handed it to Nel. As he drank, Nel stared at his returned leg, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he winced.
The night before, the three had met up with Mattias, where he had been hunting and trapping along the ridges around Bee Gum Mountain. Mattias pieced together a crude moccasin for Nel to wear from scraps of deer and rabbit hide. After camping again, Nel and Sally parted ways with the boys, setting off on the last part of the journey to Mother Salagi’s cabin. There were only a few miles left to go.
Sally asked, “Has it not worked? Didn’t the Elemental Rose give you back your powers?”
Nel reached down to the leaf-littered ground and picked up a small white feather from among the bracken. He cupped it in his palms and blew into his hands. Sally cocked her head curiously.
A low moan sounded from beyond the trees, over where the ridge dropped off sharply. The leaves on the ground began to flutter and crinkle as a breeze stirred up. Nel blew harder into his cupped hands. A roar rose—sudden and fierce, bending small trees and throwing an enormous storm of leaves and debris up around them.
Sally closed her eyes and covered her face with her hand, as the noise howled around her. She spun around, turning her back to the blast and stumbling a few steps against its force. Then just as abruptly as it had risen, the wind died. As Sally looked up, leaves were slowly settling all around the forest. The ground around where Nel sat was swept clean down to the brown earth.
Nel smiled at her as he dropped the feather from his hand. “My powers are returning,” he said. “It is just that I am not yet able to become a fox.”
He stood, stamping his mismatched moccasin to the ground.
He gave another smile, awe evident in his curling mouth.
Nel waved a hand for Sally to follow him and they set off along the ridge. “To take animal form is difficult,” Nel said, putting a hand on Sally’s shoulder. “Your brother would concur. But I will remember how, Sally. Be assured. I must fashion a toby again when we return to Shuckstack. It will draw power from the wild. It will help me remember how to be the Rambler I once was.”
By late afternoon, the two reached Mother Salagi’s home in a cove below the Clingman’s Dome. Frost-blackened moss and ancient lichen clung to the logs of the small cabin. The clapboard roof was damp with melting snow, and icicles dripped from the eaves.
In a sunny patch by the front door, Si sat on the stoop. She stood as Nel and Sally came from the tree line.
Buck appeared from around the side of the cabin. He sniffed. “Nel, your leg?”
Si’s mouth widened and she ran to Nel. “How … how did it happen?”
“All will be explained,” Nel said. He put a hand to Si’s chin and tilted it up. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Si said.
“You still look poorly,” he said, inspecting her face.
Si scowled. “I’m better. It’s been good to get out of Shuckstack and stretch my legs.”
“She’s been getting stronger,” Buck said.
Nel said, “But, Si, we don’t want you to overtax—”
“Hush, Nel,” Si said, taking a step back to look again at his leg. “I just … can’t believe it!” She hugged him tightly.
Buck gave a ragged smile and shook his head. “Come on. The other seers just arrived. They’re waiting for you.”
Sally followed Si, Buck, and Nel into the cabin. She blinked as she left the bright sunlight. The single room smelled of bear fat, drying herbs, and tangy sharp odors that she couldn’t identify. Ruddy coals in the fireplace cast a dim light.
Three women sat around Mother Salagi’s rough-hewn table. Sally knew right away which was Mother Salagi. The small, hunched woman rose from her seat holding a knotted root for a cane. Her hair was wispy white, and her skin brown and tough like tree bark.
“Suspect I’m a-seeing ye right, Nel?” Mother Salagi cocked a black-button eye to Nel’s leg. “You’re a-walking as a Rambler once more.”
The Wolf Tree Page 10