The Master
Page 10
If one were of the nervous sort, Zee thought, it would be easy to imagine something was perching in the twisted limbs of that old oak tree, or hiding in the thick needles of that ancient fir.
Zee saw a flash of light from the corner of her eye and spun about quickly, but it was nothing, no wild beast about to attack, just a choked thicket of Himalaya-berry vines that had crept among the trees in the summer, decorating them with dark but hard to obtain fruit. The now-brown vines were denuded of fruit and leaves, but were still armed with thorns. Those numerous claws sparkled prettily, even in the faint light of false dawn.
She hadn’t gone much farther when her prayers for guidance were answered. Someone had left her a clear sign. There was an entire stand of young pine trees marked with plastic ribbons—some red, some green and some yellow.
Had Nick’s elf been here after all? Zee’s skin prickled, and she sniffed the air carefully while checking the ground for prints.
Nothing. The snow was pristine. No one had been here since the storm stopped, not even deer or other nocturnal forest animals. Which, now that she thought about it, was rather odd. Surely she was not the only living soul! Yet, she had seen and heard no other beings since leaving the cabin. Perhaps they had been frightened away by the storm; animals were often sensitive to magical phenomena.
She advanced slowly, watching the dawn shadows as she went. But all remained peaceful and calm.
Most of the trees in the grove were small, between four and ten feet tall. They were somewhat sparse-looking, suggesting that perhaps they were ill or holding back their delicate limbs because of overcrowding. If thinning the trees out would make the other trees healthier, then she was doing a doubly good deed by cutting one down. She had to think that way because there were very few trees in the place where she had grown up and, though stunted by sun and wind, they all seemed like miracles to her; killing them—even for a ritual—seemed wrong.
The ten-foot tree was handsomest, at least on one side. But that would mean dragging it uphill all the way back to the cabin, and she was almost certain that it was too tall to fit inside. She walked around the other trees slowly, evaluating, and finally selected a pine that was only a little shorter than herself.
Her hatchet was very dull, and Zee was glad that she wasn’t trying to whittle through oak. As it was, she was perspiring heavily by the time the tree came down.
Once it was felled, she went around to all the other trees and removed their plastic ribbons—they would make pretty bows for Nick’s Christmas tree. She also collected several of the giant cones fallen from the larger sugar pines. They would look nice, too, and they could burn them later. Pinecones made for a hot, sweet fire.
It took several long, cold minutes to tie the pinecones onto the side of the tree that wasn’t pressed into the snow. When the last one was secure, Zee went around to the sappy stump and began dragging her treasure up the hill. The tree was not especially heavy, but it accumulated snow in its branches, gaining weight with every step she traveled. Though she was strong and used to hard work, her lungs were burning by the time she returned to flat ground.
Once she reached the cabin, an exhausted Zee realized that she was going to have trouble standing the tree upright. She had stood it up in order to shake out the snow, but it had no inclination to remain upright when she let go. Probably there was some Christmas thing that Nick used to make the tree stand up, but she didn’t have one. The only answer was to prop it in the corner of the room farthest from the fireplace and use the walls as a cradle.
Then there was the matter of getting it through the door. The tree was small and flexible, but its branches were definitely wider than the doorway. It would make a lot of noise.
Should she bring it in now? Or wait and surprise Nick once they were all awake?
A dollop of wet snow fell on Zee’s head, reminding her of how cold it was outdoors. She was also swaying on her feet.
Later, she decided. She’d bring it in once Nick was awake. Right now, she wanted a mug of hot tea and to snuggle back into Nick’s strong arms—and to sleep there. She knew that everything would feel possible and safe once she was there again. She would sleep without dreams.
Chapter Eight
“What are you doing to those eggs?” Hansel asked as Nick cracked the last one and spilled its contents into their only pan. At the sound of that bright voice, Zee began to stir. After a moment, her head peeped out from under the blanket.
“Good morning,” Nick said.
“Good morning,” she answered, and then yawned.
“Nick!” Hansel tugged his sleeve and repeated his question. “What are you doing to those eggs?”
“I’m making an omelet,” Nick said, frowning a little at how meager an omelet it would be divided between four persons. Eggnog had taken a toll on the carton of eggs. Guessing what the next question would be, he added, “You mix other things with the eggs. It’ll be tasty. You’ll see. It’s a Christmas thing,” he added, to end any potential argument.
Hansel looked distrustfully at the pan. Nick wondered if he should give the children their presents as a distraction, but he wanted to wait for Zee to be fully awake and ready before he distributed the gifts.
“You’re going to cook them?” Hansel asked.
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t serve you raw eggs. You might get sick.”
Hansel opened his mouth, but Zee joined them and said something in their strange language. The boy shrugged. “But I don’t get sick,” he argued.
“I found some herbs,” Nick said to Zee, for some reason feeling a bit shy now that the sun was up. Fresh out of bed and she still looked lovely. She smelled lovely, too. He had noticed that last night: Zee was a rainbow of scents. And unlike the rainbow, which was made up of refracted water droplets that had only a few colors, Zee’s scent was more varied. And real. And pleasing. There was no chasing of illusions going on here. That amazed him. Many women pleased the eye—models and actresses and such—but they were as distant as the moon. Zee was here, and she pleased all his senses.
“Herbs? Here?” she asked, surprise in her voice. She struggled out from her blanket cocoon. Nick forced himself to focus on the conversation and not her tousled hair or alluring voice.
“I think there must have been a garden out there once. I know they look a little sad,” he said. This was an understatement; the herbs were trampled and frost-bitten. “But I’m sure they’ll taste fine. I’m wondering if the children should have them though.”
Zee picked up his meager collection of blackened stems and sniffed them.
“These will be lovely. Thank you, Nick, for making breakfast.”
“My pleasure,” he said, loving her smile and feeling as though he had been handed a laurel wreath.
“I will go hunting after we eat,” Zee said.
“Hunting?” Nick was startled. “But . . . should you? Surely not alone. Anyway, it’s Christmas.”
“No, I won’t go alone. I’ll take the children. They need to learn anyway.”
“Take the children?” he repeated, appalled. Then he blurted out the sort of chauvinistic thing he’d promised himself he’d never say to any woman: “No, absolutely not. Do you know how many firearms incidents occur when children are taken hunting? Gunshot wounds are difficult to treat, and last year there were—”
“Nick, I don’t use a gun,” Zee said, pulling him up short. “We don’t like guns. It isn’t our way.”
“I’m not sure a bow and arrow is any better,” he answered after a moment. “Those kids are too small to use a hunting bow safely.”
“I don’t use that either,” she said gently.
“Then what do you use? A spear?” he asked, beginning to be fascinated in spite of himself. “Or a snare?”
“No. . . . It is a little hard to explain. Have you ever seen a fisherman who stands in a stream and catches fish with his hands?”
“Yes. Once. On television,” he added.
“That’s the way we
do it. No weapons.”
He looked at her with respect. “You can catch fish with your bare hands?”
She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
“Well, this I’ve got to see. You know, I have a couple of friends who would absolutely love you,” Nick said. “If the snow doesn’t melt and we’re stuck here another day, we’ll all go fishing.”
Zee stared at him for a moment. He wished he knew what she was thinking.
“I must hunt even if the snow does melt,” Zee said calmly. “We have to eat.”
Nick stared at her as if she had lost her mind. Didn’t she know that last night had changed everything? She wasn’t alone anymore. Of course he would feed her and the children.
But maybe she didn’t know. He hadn’t said anything.
Don’t rush her, but don’t act like a deaf-mute either, the ghost advised.
“Well, of course you do—have to eat, I mean. But as soon as the snow melts we’re all leaving here. We’ll go to the next town and have a proper meal.” His voice was firm. He didn’t like to abuse the Jag, but he would force her on the roads in order to keep Zee from hunting. “Then we’ll decide about what to do after.”
“That is wonderful of you,” Zee said. She swallowed and added, “But, Nick, we can’t go with you. It may not be safe.”
“Safe? You think I would hurt you?” He was horrified.
“No! Of course not. It isn’t that.” Zee said something to Hansel, sending him away. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “You see, I didn’t think the family would mind if I took the children, but . . .” She hesitated, eyes imploring him to understand.
“But they mind?” Nick said. “You think they’ll be looking for you around here?”
“I’m afraid so,” she said. “I thought we’d made it safely away. Then last night . . .” She trailed off. “I think someone may know where we are. We have to go soon. It’s very important that I reach Cadalach. I fear time is running out.”
“And the children can’t go back home?” Nick asked, thinking of all the strange things the children had said and done. “You think they might be neglected? Or abused? Damn it! Has someone already hurt them?”
“I think they’ll be captured and taken back as slaves,” Zee said flatly. Then she lowered her voice. “Luz would have let us go, for our mother’s sake. But his cousins . . . It’s a matter of pride. I’m sure they were hunting us last night. Fortunately, they aren’t very good hunters—and since they never bathe, they smell like something a coyote left behind. We always know when they are near.”
Nick had a sudden vision of Luz and his cousins. They would be cross-eyed and not have a lot of teeth. They didn’t bathe and so were walking storehouses of rotting bacteria. They drank mouthwash when no other hooch was available and the whole lot of them couldn’t spell dog, if you gave them the D, the O and the G and a week of thinking time. Nick shuddered. It might not be the legal thing to do, but he couldn’t blame Zee for taking the children away from them.
“But eventually they will get tired of trying on their own, and they’ll ask for help,” Zee added. Her voice was suddenly shaded with desperation. “We must be far away by then. And the children must learn how to survive on their own. Just in case something should happen to me.”
Nick caught sight of the nearly empty box of dog biscuits, and a flash of anger so sharp that it rivaled last night’s lightning passed through his body.
A cult—some foreign survivalist cult had transplanted its craziness to the U.S. He should have seen it before. It explained everything about the children’s ignorance of the world, their odd diets, strange language—everything. Then Nick thought about all the cults he had heard of and the disasters that had happened to the children caught in them. Waco, Jonestown . . . it was too horrible to contemplate. He would never let Zee and the children fall into such hands!
“Nothing will happen to you. We’re heading east,” he said firmly. It took an effort to keep the rage out of his voice. “As soon as the snow melts enough for the Jag to move. And we aren’t stopping—except for food and gas—until we get to Jace’s house.”
Zee blinked. “Who is Jace, and why would we go there? Is he a hunter?”
“After a fashion. Jason Rich is a crusader and a good friend of mine. He’s an attorney who practices family law. We are going to see about getting these children taken away from your family for good. And if Luz and his smelly cousins even try to get near them—or you—they will be very, very sorry.” Nick did not believe in violence, but he meant what he was saying. He would defend Zee and the children, whatever the cost.
“But Nick, I don’t think you entirely understand. It—”
“Don’t argue with me. Zee,” he said, reaching out and cupping her face with the hand that didn’t have egg on it. “Please. We can’t take any chances. This cult—this Luz and his family—are more dangerous than you probably know. You’re too close to the situation to see it for what it is. I’ve seen their type before. They’re fanatics and won’t be swayed by reason. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them evil—but they do evil things.”
“No, I understand how dangerous they are. I just hope that you do, too.” Her voice was flat, not at all the one he was used to hearing. The absence of warmth and animation actually hurt him. It was odd to think that he had grown this fond of her in the short time they had been together.
“I’m a doctor. I promise you, I’ve seen it all— every horrid thing that people can do to one another. I know what we have to do to make you safe.”
“Nick”—she smiled at him and raised her own hand to cover his—“it is wonderful that you wish to do this for us. Thank you. You give me strength. Once we are away from here, I will be able to take care of the children. I just need to escape.”
“Of course,” Nick said, though he had some real doubts about Zee being able to establish a business quickly enough to take care of her own needs, let alone the children’s. Unless she had help—which she would. “And I’ll be there to see that you get a job and a home and . . . whatever you need.”
He didn’t tell her that her home would be his. He was pretty certain that Jace would tell Zee that her case for custody would be strengthened if she were married—and to someone respectable, who had the wherewithal to provide for the family. And if Jace didn’t tell her, Nick would suggest it.
Yesterday he would have been shocked and unwilling to contemplate doing such an impulsive thing. But he found that in the warm light of this Christmas morning, he didn’t mind the idea at all.
“If you mean this, Nick, then there is something you can do. I will go see your friend Jace. But the children and I must first go to Cadalach. Other children are in danger, and I must tell the . . . the people there what is happening, so they can be on guard.”
“What is Cadalach? A town?”
“Sort of. The people there are . . . they are like a council. They can stop what’s happening.”
“Don’t they have a phone?” he asked. “We could just call them.”
“No, there is no phone. The only way I know to find them is to go to the desert and look.”
“I see,” Nick said slowly, picturing an encampment of old motor homes parked in the middle of nowhere—which there were plenty of in Nevada. The idea didn’t appeal to him. Still, if this cult was after other children . . .
“We couldn’t go to the police?” he asked, taking the eggs over to the fire and putting the pan on the coals.
Zee shook her head and knelt down beside him. “They will be too slow, and they’ll never find the children in time.”
Nick didn’t like that answer, but he believed it to be true. In rural areas, law enforcement didn’t always have the resources to react quickly, especially if they didn’t see the immediate danger.
“Very well, then. We’ll look for Cadalach first— but only for one day. I want you and the children away from here.” He stirred the eggs briskly, trying to keep the omelet’s base from burning.
Nick started to ask what she meant, but the children came bounding over.
“Let’s have some breakfast,” Nick said as cheerfully as he could. “And then we’ll open some presents.”
Zee clapped her hands and looked at the children. “That would be wonderful. I am so hungry this morning.”
Nick felt unexpectedly pleased about having that diamond pendant, since Zee seemed to really want a diamond. That piece of jewelry was like a sign— not that he believed in portents—but still, it seemed like Heaven was aligned with his plan. True, he wasn’t giving her a ring, but close enough. The necklace would serve until he could get her a proper engagement gift.
You’re committed, then? the ghost’s voice asked.
“Yes,” Nick muttered. “I’m committed.”
“I’m hungry, too,” Gretel announced. She appeared beside the table and began sniffing the socks that Nick had stuffed with white chocolate, a few decorative candy canes and dried apricots. “These smell good. Can we eat them?”
“You can eat what’s in them. After breakfast,” Nick said. “And after we open the presents. We want to see what Santa brought us, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Gretel agreed, but she still sounded doubtful. It would take some convincing to sell her on the idea of a good but invisible elf.
Zee also said yes, but her voice was sure. There was a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes. Nick wondered if she had ever received a Christmas gift, or if—like the children—this would be her first. A part of him hoped this was all new to her. He liked being her first everything.
He hurriedly dished out the eggs. He couldn’t wait to see Zee’s reaction when she opened her present.