“Then follow me.” I took off for the park, knowing we’d seen a body drop there. It proved easy to find. Rory, an older man with a lame foot and a rattle in his chest, unable to move far in life. Maybe that was why he’d climbed a tree.
One of Rory’s legs bent backward at the wrong angle and a white shard of bone protruded from just above one wrist. He must have fallen on it. A small pool of blood blackened the grass under the break. His empty eyes gazed upward from a face set in a slightly surprised expression. I knelt by him, touching his cold skin. His hand wasn’t yet stiff, and felt cool and heavy in mine. I shivered. Death was familiar in Artistos, but Fremont had not killed this gentle old man.
When I was a little girl, he had made me a toy doll from winter-sticks and I had kept it until spring, dressing it in tiny clothes Therese had helped me fashion from scraps.
Kayleen pulled at my shoulder, her voice agitated. “Let’s go. Let’s find survivors.” I let Rory’s hand slide from mine, squeezing it gently, and pushed myself up. Kayleen’s face was as white as the corpse at my feet. Liam looked past us, then yelled, “Hello!” and took off running, calling back, “Come on!” over his shoulder.
We raced across the street, and over to the burning Guild Hall just as a corner of the wooden roof crashed inward.
“Here!” a frantic voice called. We ran toward it, making out a knot of about fifteen people surrounding Stile. Firelight glinted on metal buckets as a tall man handed them out. Two hoses snaked out from a hole in the road. The grate that had once covered the hole rested to the side, serving as a staging spot for buckets filled from two spigots set into a metal box and linked to the town’s water system. We’d planned for fires, drilled every year for fires, but never, ever, actually fought one in town.
Stile called out, “Kayleen, Chelo, Liam. Can you help?”
We consulted each other with a glance. I looked at the burning building. “Sure!” I called back.
In moments, I lost Liam and Kayleen in the smoke and the crowd. Stile assigned me to work with Gil, an older man with a scar across his cheek from the last war. And Klia, the small, nasty, dark-haired girl who Kayleen had said wanted to kill her. She snarled at me as I came up, her dark blue eyes full of hatred and her mouth twisted into a tiny, vicious frown. “This is all your fault.”
She’d never been nice to me. Damn her and all her friends. “I’m trying to help,” I snapped, my jaw tight.
She tossed me a bucket, her face a hard, angry mask. “So use your powers to put this out.”
I glared at the inferno licking along the roof-line of the Guild Hall, filling the windows with a red-orange curtain. None of my differences would help here, except maybe strength. “It’s going to take us all,” I snapped back. My fists balled of their own accord, remembering that her best friend Garmin had beaten Bryan. But this wasn’t the time.
Gil glared at us both and went and threw the water in his bucket on the outside wall nearest the next-closest Guild Hall—the farmers’ big square building. We followed, working side by side in silence. I could carry more water in each bucket, but all of our work was nearly nothing next to the two teams that had hoses. Liam stood at the base of Farmers Hall, leaning back, pointing the biggest hose, the one reserved just for firefighting, at the roof of the hall. His whole upper body was tight and braced, his lips a thin, concentrated line, his gaze fixed on the roof.
I held my bucket under the stream of water from the spigot, glancing briefly at the tall, licking flames. There weren’t enough of us. Throwing buckets of water felt like fighting a paw-cat with a fly swatter, but the steady, hurried effort felt good. I threw my water as if each bucket hit the mercenaries, as if I threw each one on Ghita or Lushia, slowly drowning them. A terrible rhythm took me, fill and race and throw, fill and race and throw, fill and race and throw.
Smoke stung my eyes and lodged in my lungs. The heat near the fire pushed at me like a wall, receding as I ran to the spigot, greeting me angrily as I approached it. Again, and again, and again.
Stile changed out the people holding the other hose, but Liam shook his head and kept going, standing closer to the fire than anyone, sweat streaming down his back, steam billowing up in front of him.
“Was anyone in there?” I asked Gil, when I stopped to swipe sweaty hair from my brow.
“I don’t know,” he gasped. “I don’t know where anybody was. They came so quick.” He turned back to his work, and me to mine, and a half-hour later the flames had eaten everything big in the Guild Hall. The water-soaked remains were more mush than hot coal, peppered with white smoke from a few remaining hot spots.
Farmers Hall still stood, the paint blistered on the side closest to the destroyed Science Guild.
Stile called out, “Break,” and we all stood in a knot, sweaty and soot-streaked and soaked, watching smoke and steam rise from the ruined hall.
Bits of blackened, twisted metal and one full and straight metal door-frame stood amidst the ash and destruction.
Gianna would hate this desecration. Gianna. I closed my eyes and swayed, and Liam and Kayleen found me, and we stood together, catching our breath. Liam’s arms shook, and as tired as I was, he let me take most of his weight.
Kayleen lay down in the middle of the street and closed her eyes, her hands twitching over her stomach. She’d fallen into the nets. Her face had gone white under the grime covering her cheeks and hair.
Stile’s voice rang out over us even before I’d properly caught my breath. “Chelo—you and Liam and Gil and Londi stay here, make sure this doesn’t spread. Everyone else—check the granaries.”
I looked down at Kayleen, calling to Stile. “Can you stay? Or keep a few more here? We need to look out for Kayleen.”
Liam stopped leaning so hard on me and swiped at his long hair, mussed from the firefight. “I need to go see what’s happening. I’m late reporting back.”
I nodded. “I’ll watch her.”
He took off, racing away, his gait uneven with exhaustion.
Stile came up next to me, standing beside me, so both of us stared down at Kayleen. “She looks bad. Is she okay?”
I swallowed. “I hope so.”
“Look,” he said, “Gianna left me in charge. I have to go.” He glanced around. “Klia, can you stay?”
Not her. I was too damned weary to argue.
Stile needed to know what we knew. I grabbed the strong bicep of his good arm and looked into his brown eyes. “We heard Gianna’s dead. They told Liam that right off.”
His face crumpled in on itself and he dropped his head, hiding his expression from me. “All the more reason I have to see what else has happened.” His voice cracked as he said, “Chelo, there are so few of us. And they were so fast. We sent Hal out to meet them, to see if they’d talk, and they just—they just—they just killed him. I don’t even know how. And him an old man past seventy.” He looked back down at Kayleen, his face softening, his brow furrowing in worry. “Take care of her. We need her.” Then he was gone, running fast, following Liam.
I hadn’t told him to take Klia with him. I knelt down by Kayleen’s head, running my fingers across her forehead, ignoring Klia, who stood near Kayleen’s feet, shifting uneasily. Kayleen moaned softly and her hands came up in front of her face, clawed and rigid.
“What’s she doing?” Klia asked.
I shook my head, reaching my hands for Kayleen’s shoulders, kneading them, treating her like I used to treat Joseph, being there for her as gently as possible, but firm enough she’d know. “I expect she’s trying to save us,” I snapped.
Klia grunted and fell silent.
I focused completely on Kayleen. She dropped her hands and tilted her head back, licking her lips. I cupped her head in my palms, keeping her from smacking it against the hard pavement. I glanced around. Klia was the only one close enough to hear me. “Can you get us some water?”
I thought she wouldn’t go, but she shrugged. “Sure.” She wandered off, looking as lost as she did ang
ry. Moments later, she handed me a glass of fairly clear water. Bits of ash floated on top. “Thanks.” I took the water and bathed Kayleen’s dirty face with one hand, still cupping her head with the other, murmuring to her, “The fire’s out; we did well. You helped.” I put a finger of water against her lips and she opened them, licking for more. I fed her that way, with my fingers. “Liam and Stile went off to see what else they could learn. Liam will report in and see what’s happened everywhere else.” My chest tightened. Sasha! Sky! Surely Akashi had reported in by now. “They’ll be back soon.”
Klia knelt down next to me, catching my attention with her gaze. I let my prattle trail away, watching her. For once, she wasn’t sneering at me. Instead she said, “Thanks for helping with the fire.”
“We’ve always helped.”
She frowned, then looked over at the burned hulk of a building.
“Yeah, it was your guild.” Her eyes filmed over with tears and one fell, making a clean streak in the ash covering her face. “You weren’t here to help the Culture Guild.”
Like I didn’t know that.
Kayleen suddenly pushed up, sitting with her back totally straight, her legs tucked under her to one side. “They’ve gone. They won’t be back for a bit.” She swiped at her hair, tugging on it, as if pulling herself here with me. “I found a net-hole—a way in through one of their skimmers. Ghita’s on it. She’s gleeful. They think they’ve killed thirty or forty of us. They’ll be back.” She frowned, opening her eyes, staring at her feet. “Ghita wants to come back tomorrow, and again until they’re done, and leave. But Lushia’s stopping her. I heard them argue. They’re watching us. They want to see what we do. That’s why they took the stuff from the Guild Hall before they burned it down. Ghita doesn’t like it. But that’s why they didn’t just kill everybody. Lushia said, ‘Go slowly. They’re just as dead, and we’re in no hurry’ She said she doesn’t have any word from home yet.”
“Word about what?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. All I could access was a vidcam. And that’s gone now; they’re too far away.” She sounded terribly tired, but she struggled up to sit awkwardly, leaning back on her hands because of her baby.
She looked up and noticed Klia. “Why are you here?”
“Stile told me to help Chelo.” Klia was still frowning, but her eyes were filled with curiosity. “How do you know these things?”
Kayleen narrowed her eyes, I remembered she’d said she might kill Klia. I put a hand on her back, trying to calm her. She took a deep breath. “I can read their nets, sometimes. Not much anymore. But I read them a lot the first day.”
“Would they be here if you weren’t here?” Klia asked, her eyes narrow and her lips a thin, tight line.
“Yes,” Kayleen said. “But they might not be here today if our parents hadn’t come. But someone was going to, someday.” Her voice was controlled and very, very clear, as if she was educating a child instead of talking to someone our age.
Klia nodded and then turned away. I couldn’t tell if she believed Kayleen.
“Chelo!” Liam’s voice called out. “Chelo! Is Kayleen all right?” He ran up panting. “We’ve done everything here, and Stile has an earset now—so we can talk to him. Hunter wants us back up at the cave.”
“Is Akashi okay?” I asked.
“Yes. He’s okay.”
I breathed out a deep sigh, shaking with relief. Kayleen squeezed my hand hard.
“And they found Sasha. She’s alive, too. She has a broken leg.”
“I’m so glad.” A leg. That was okay. It wasn’t her. Maybe my wishes had kept her from being killed. I fingered the belt she’d made me, whispering a small “thank you” to whatever powers kept her safe. I glanced at Liam. “Sky?”
“I don’t know.” He held his hand out, helping Kayleen up first, and then me.
Before leaving, I hesitated a moment, gazing at Klia. “Thanks, and good luck.”
She didn’t look at us. “You, too,” she whispered.
And then Liam and Kayleen and I were running back up the High Road, holding hands. I needed their hands—to stay upright, to feel safe, to pull me along to the next awful thing.
42
THE NEXT AWFUL THING
Soft sobs and whispered voices floated toward the entrance from one of the deeper chambers of the cave as we levered ourselves down into the entrance. I blinked at the empty, messy kitchen area. Water dripped from the table, pitchers lay overturned, and something dark stained one corner of the table and the floor.
The scratch of small stones against the cave floor drew my attention past the table, near the ladder the others used to climb in and out. Hunter sat silently, watching three still forms stretched out under blankets, their faces covered.
The dead.
Hunter looked up at us and spoke quietly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“And you,” I replied. The three of us gathered near the heads of the shrouded figures, close to Hunter, looking down. We held our silence, and Hunter held his. The spot we stood on, the three shrouded bodies, Hunter’s quiet vigil, it all seemed somehow separate from the noises coming from deeper in the cave, sacred and sad.
Kayleen bent down and slowly uncovered the face closest to us. One of the townies who had come with us, Lourdes, a taciturn woman who had worked quietly and hard with the farm crew. Her face was undamaged, her eyes closed, her expression calm. I swallowed and put my hand in Liam’s, anger closing my throat tightly around my breath. I only knew her in passing, but Lourdes had been a familiar face, a kind, quiet woman. Kayleen put her fingers to her lips, touched Lourdes’s forehead softly, and covered her face again.
Kayleen gently pulled the next blanket back, and all three of us gasped. Eric the Shoemaker. One of the few people from Artistos who had stood up for us from the beginning. He’d always laughed at Kayleen’s big feet, cheerfully building new lasts, teasing her every time she saw him. Once we got the group settled in the cave, he’d helped us make slings to carry crazy-balls and patiently, carefully puzzled out how to use some of the other weapons. We’d had a party for his daughter Sudie’s eighth birthday just last week, and he’d given her a beautiful toy hebra he had carved himself from tent tree heart-wood. I winced, remembering how her face had lit up.
Kayleen blessed Eric the way she had blessed Lourdes, with a kiss and gentle brush of fingertips.
Who would make Kayleen shoes now?
One of her tears fell silently onto the blanket as she covered Eric’s white, dead face.
The last sightless face belonged to one of the roamers, Walter, an East Band member Liam knew well. Liam’s age. I turned my face away and buried it in Liam’s shoulder, putting my arm up across his back and pulling him close, offering and needing comfort.
What if it had been Liam?
He returned my embrace, his cheek resting on top of my head. A small, strangled noise escaped his throat. By the time I turned around, Walter’s face was covered again, and the three bodies looked like they had when we found them.
Liam and I sat down near Hunter. Kayleen stood, staring quietly down at the dead, her dark hair fallen over her face, masking her expression. After a few moments, she turned and joined us. We made a small circle on the smooth stone of the cave mouth. Hunter coughed and looked at us with calm, appraising eyes. “Stile tells me the Farm Guild Hall would have burned, too, without your help. Maybe more.” He reached a gnarled hand to Kayleen’s face and ran it down her cheek. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He glanced at the shrouded figures. “Eric used to argue with me about you, tell me I was worrying for no reason.”
Kayleen managed a tiny smile. Her voice came out a little cracked. “Just don’t doubt us again, okay?”
We stayed silent for a moment, the new losses sinking in. Night birds called to each other outside, as if the world were normal and we weren’t huddled next to dead friends waiting for the next awful part of an awful day. “How’s Sasha?” I asked. “I heard sh
e broke her leg.”
He grimaced. “She’ll be okay. It’s a clean break. They shot the ladder out from under her. She was heading for higher ground so her earset could connect with all the roving bands. There’s only four or five injuries here, since you warned us and most people went deep.” He waved his hands at the three bodies. “Everyone dead or hurt here was scouting or watching, except Lourdes, who came up to the kitchen to get water for the kids. Some of the other bands lost a lot more people.”
“What about Sky?” Kayleen asked.
“She’s okay. She’s with Sasha. Everyone’s scared—especially the ones like Sky and Sasha”—he glanced up at us—“and you, too young to remember the last war.”
Liam let Hunter’s comment go and whispered, “So what happened here? I didn’t see how they died.”
Hunter pointed his gnarled index finger toward the opening of the cave. “They flew there—in toward us. I saw their bright lights coming and heard the engines. I thought they were going to fly straight into the cave and hit the back wall, but then they stopped suddenly, like someone grabbed their tail.” He closed his eyes, as if seeing the whole thing again as he told us his story. “The noise the engines made changed, and they backed up real slowly, and little lights blossomed from the front of the wings and from under where the pilot sits. Weapons. They made light, but no noise. I ran and ducked, and so did most of the others.
“But Eric and Lourdes just stood watching, as if the skimmer put them in a trance. Walter tried to get in front of it and shoot at it, and he fell. Then Eric and Lourdes fell.” He shifted again, looking over at the covered bodies. “They just fell. Dead. You can’t even see what killed them. There are no external wounds.”
“And the skimmer just left?” Kayleen prompted.
“I had ducked behind a wall, but I heard it, and it seemed to be having trouble leaving, like it was fighting something. At one point a big flash of light went off, so bright it hurt my eyes. And after that, the skimmer flew away and let us be.”
Kayleen narrowed her eyes, looking outward, past the cave mouth. “So the cave’s defenses did work. I’m sure what stopped them was the same thing that helps me land, only their machine is just different enough that it doesn’t work right.” She tugged at her hair, staring at the cave’s opening. “Or maybe it was working for them, but they didn’t want to land. So they backed away. And maybe that tripped the defense system.”
Reading the Wind (Silver Ship) Page 34