The napkin lost its folds in her clenched hands. “I’m not sure. But we figured I may as well eat before returning.” At least her head wasn’t throbbing again.
“I presume we includes Mary Clare. Ah, there she is. I need to have a word with that girl. You stay put.” Miriam stalked off in pursuit of Mary Clare.
Annmar found her gaze trailing over to Daeryn again, just in time to see him look back to his conversation with Famil and Jac. This time she turned more carefully, but still jostled a plate of cake being offered to her.
“Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Henry said. “Mary Clare asked me to bring you dessert while she’s gone to the kitchen for your dinner. Mind if I sit with you?”
“Please.” She gestured to the chair Miriam had vacated and took the plate.
Henry sat and scooted the chair closer, leaning in to whisper, “I wanted to thank you for healing my arm the other night. I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am, and thanks to your help, I’m not worse. So thank you.”
His head dipped in somewhat of a nod, but his eyes kept tracking around the room. “I’m hunting gobblers tonight.” Henry repeated the news of the stunners, including additional information about how the fungus fuel could also knock out a person and leave a worker defenseless.
“Are there plans for protecting the unconscious person until he or she comes around again?”
Henry shrugged.
Good Lord. No wonder the boy acted nervous. Someone could get torn up worse than a bite to the leg. One of the older farmworkers might be better informed than Henry, one in charge, like… She met Daeryn’s gaze again. This time neither of them looked away. She needed to talk to him, about other things, but this would be a start. A simple wave would—
Mary Clare placed bowls of broth and mashed potatoes before her. “Have you heard, Annmar?” She dropped into the chair on her other side. “Daeryn surveyed the surrounding farms. The fields south are so-so. Chapel Hollow buffers us to the east, and the mountains to the west, but on the northern farms he can tell the sides east toward Gapton are ravaged the worst. That must be the direction the gobblers are coming from. They’re plotting how we might stop them along that side.”
“A group of us growers will help patrol the edges to learn where they cross most often,” Henry said.
“It’ll be difficult, even with the extra help.” Mary Clare nodded to a sandy-haired fellow down the table, who smiled in return. “My friend Leander Lightstep came. He and the few other ’cambires from town will add in with our nocturnal guards.”
Annmar had seen him before—oh, Leander was the young livery driver who had brought her up to Wellspring her first day here. At least he was older than Henry, poor fellow. “Are you sure you’re up to doing this?” she asked him.
Henry nodded in a stiff way, appearing determined but still looking like the scared boy he was. “I don’t want to return to the orphanage. Another fellow and I are offering our wages back to Mistress Gere to help. We want to stay on, even if the harvest is ruined.”
Annmar peeked at Mary Clare. Her freckled forehead and nose were wrinkled, her lips twisted unhappily. This was bad.
With knit brows, Henry turned back and forth between them. “Honest”—he placed his hand over his heart—“by the Creator’s Path, I’ll do whatever I can to stop the gobblers.”
He sounded so adamant. Annmar patted his arm. “Of course I believe you will.”
“Any chance you’ll be around tonight?” Henry stared, his brows still bunched together.
Surely they didn’t expect her to shoot one of these stunners. “Me?”
“In case something happens. On our patrols. You know, to back up Miss Miriam. It’d be real nice if you could do your special healing again.”
He’d lowered his voice, but Annmar glanced around. Mary Clare had her fork frozen halfway to her mouth, and worse, Miriam was staring from across the table.
She leaned to Henry and whispered, “I’ll see what I can do. Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks, miss. Be seeing you.”
The blond boy scurried off. Annmar spooned up potatoes, but the thought of eating wasn’t appealing.
Mary Clare whispered, “You cannot be walking up and down the stairs tonight. Miriam bit my head off about bringing you down.”
“The stairs were a trial.”
Miriam lowered into Henry’s vacant seat. “Consider spending tonight in the sickroom.”
Annmar stared at her. “And if the sickroom is as busy as the last time I was there?”
“With this many inexperienced people roaming the dark fields I expect more accidents. You’ll be handy to help,” Miriam said, though she shook her head. “My earlier warning still holds: You must avoid close artwork. Your body is still healing, so I’ll only call upon you if a severe injury presents itself and you can help without eyestrain. Station yourself on one of the cots as soon as possible, and I will have no problem waking you.” She smiled. “I’m not even asking how. Or”—she fixed her gaze on Mary Clare, who had been unusually quiet—“I will be the one having my head bit off. By Mistress Gere.”
They all laughed, but Mary Clare sobered first and tapped Annmar’s arm. “Remember when I told you it’s best to ask a person’s permission before, er, healing them?”
Before working her Knack on them, she meant. Annmar nodded and turned to Miriam. “My skills might be a bit different than yours. How do I know someone would welcome my help?”
“If you work for Constance, she takes care of your medical needs. We presume every worker agrees to be helped if they appear in my sickroom. However, if it makes you more comfortable, all you need to do is ask something along the lines of, ‘Would you like me to help you?’”
This easily banished Annmar’s concerns. Mary Clare asked what she could fetch for Annmar, brazenly seeking Miriam’s agreement that Annmar should change from her confining corset. When she left, Miriam rose as well. “I’ll ask a couple of helpers to place a cot in the library. It’ll be quieter in there for you.”
Most of the farmworkers milled about, returning their dishes to the tray in the corner. Daeryn was one of the few people sitting, still in a tight conversation with Famil. If only Daeryn would leave first, she could have a word with him. While she waited, the first bite of the food Mary Clare had brought her reminded her of how delicious Mrs. Betsy’s real cooking was. She’d finished when Daeryn dropped into the chair next to her. Her stomach flopped again, like a reaper gone mad.
“Hello,” he said. His voice quavered just as her fingers did. “I suppose you’ve heard about tonight.”
She nodded. “I’ll be staying in the library to help Miriam.”
“Excellent.” A big grin crossed his face. “Not only will you be on hand to help, you’ll also be in the safest location. Miz Gere won’t be sleeping tonight. I’ve just discussed a guard rotation with Famil. Rather than wear everyone thin, some folks are taking napping shifts.”
Oh, my. With every person she spoke to, this was sounding more like a battle. She probably shouldn’t ask this, but she had to know. “What if you can’t find where the pests are entering Wellspring?”
Daeryn raised one shoulder and dropped it. “You missed the announcement that Miz Gere has a man coming tomorrow to look at the damage and assess if his Eradicator machine will work here. He’s making incredible guarantees he can eliminate any pest problem, but every farmer Miz Gere has talked to is complaining over his outrageous pricing.”
That’s why Henry was offering up his wages. “What is the cost?”
Daeryn shrugged again. “Don’t know yet for a place this size, but we’ve got word from a fellow with the nocturnal team that they can’t afford it for his brother’s place across the valley.”
“Oh, dear,” Annmar murmured in sympathy. She’d watched Miss Rennet’s business dealings, as much as she could without drawing attention. A loss for her meant she’d had to let some of her dozen draftsmen and artists go,
downsizing her business. A family farm didn’t have anyone to let go. She didn’t know anything about large farms, but she could guess the outcome.
Daeryn pushed back his chair and stood. “You finished? I’ll take your dishes.” She nodded, and he lifted them, but instead of leaving, he shifted from foot to foot. “So, tonight you won’t go outdoors alone?”
“Miriam would never allow it. I can tell already.”
He grinned. “No, she won’t. Be seeing you, then.”
“I hope not.”
The smile fell from his face.
Oh, no, that wasn’t what…“If we did, that would mean you had to come to the sickroom.” She raised both hands and pinched her fingers together like biting teeth.
He rolled his eyes. “Right. I better start petitioning the Great Creator that none of us sees you tonight.”
He carried her dishes to the tray, and she couldn’t help but watch him. That had sounded like good-bye. But he had to walk right by her again to leave. They had talked, but not about what needed to be said. Daeryn returned, giving just a little finger wave. He continued to the arched doorway while she worked on the wording. If he got injured, or worse…
She should—she would do this. She rose and hurried after him. “Daeryn?”
Yards ahead of her, he turned. Her heart raced. They were alone in the dim hall. She could ask. She could find out. She could tell him. If only she could breathe.
Five steps and she stood close enough that no one else would hear, and when she drew a breath to ask, the air between them was edged with a now-familiar masculine scent. “Why did you spend so much time with me while I was ill?” she whispered. “Everyone said the wards would hold on my room against…the ropen. Didn’t you believe them?”
Daeryn shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his work trousers and shrugged, all in one smooth motion. “The wards will hold. I just wanted to.”
“But why?”
“I like you,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear and averted his gaze.
Mr. Shearing had said the same thing, yet his direct manner had been completely different. She pushed down the trembling in her stomach and asked, “How can you? We hardly know each other.”
Daeryn rolled his head around and stared at the ceiling. “There is a reason.” He stayed there, and just when she thought he wouldn’t say any more, he muttered, “Daft probably, but…” He sucked in a breath. “You smell right.”
“I smell right?”
He nodded, still gazing upward. “Yes. To a human, it probably doesn’t mean much. But to me… It’s important.” He turned and walked away.
He was walking away. Away, into a night filled with nasty, biting wild animals and people shooting some weird sleeping concoction. She followed a few steps, but he was nearly at the back door. “Daeryn?”
He stopped.
“You smell good, too.”
He shot a look over his shoulder. She smiled and shrugged.
He smiled back.
“See you at dawn?”
His smile broadened. “Right. See you at dawn.”
chapter EIGHT
Daeryn whirled and bound to another black body. See you at dawn. Annmar had talked to him. He sniffed the gobbler, grabbed the non-fungus end and snapped its neck.
But what did it mean? Riv had already bet him he wouldn’t get back into Annmar’s room anytime soon, no matter what she said.
Daeryn dropped the limp animal and trotted on. He didn’t care, just so they could start talking again. He’d move at her speed, apologize again for embarrassing her—no, best not bring that up. But he could act more human, less ’cambire, so his behavior met her city standards. Nothing fake, though…he did have a human side.
He blinked, realizing he’d run through the flattened squash vines without seeing a downed pest. Where was Terrent? The boy tracked his stunner to the far left, and the town fox training with them pounced in that direction. Daeryn spotted someone new running up the road…Riv, wearing a Luci-viewer. What the hell was he doing?
“Famil,” Rivley yelled. Across the field from Daeryn, the day team leader turned. She gave a nod, then winced and jumped. She swung her stunner sharply down and fired. Whoosh. The whitish fluid shot from the muzzle toward the ground. Rivley stopped. Two gobblers, riled by the commotion, started for him, their teeth bared.
Dammit, was he trying to be gobbler bait? Daeryn leaped toward him. Famil moved faster, and within steps she fired again—but missed. Rivley stumbled backward. Feathers crested the crown of his head and knocked the goggles askew.
Daeryn rushed past him and clamped on to the running gobbler. Its neck snapped. He tossed it aside, realized the thing was still snarling and grabbed it again at the second neck. Snap! He dropped it, rose onto two feet, shifted and shoved Rivley in the chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out here as human? You want to get torn up?”
“The others are out here,” Rivley yelled back. “Leander made two trips out and didn’t have a problem.”
“As a forest cat. He ran with the goggles in his mouth, delivered them to a grower and lit out of here within seconds.” Daeryn shoved Rivley toward the road.
“I get it, I’m going.” He forced the goggles onto his head. “I saw it. Two heads, just like you said. One to chew and the second to stand guard. Damn. It’s sure not from the Basin, but the animal is perfect. It couldn’t be better designed for what it’s doing.”
Daeryn snorted. “Designed? I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”
“Great Creator.” Rivley slapped his forehead, knocking aside the goggles again. He wrestled them into place as they walked. “Master Brightwell always says, ‘Explore the possibility.’ Farms are designed,” he said, the words pumping out with each step. “Buildings are designed. Equipment and engines are designed. Is it possible animals could be designed?”
A rustle sounded behind them. Daeryn had changed to polecat by the time he hit the ground. The black pest scampered toward them, but he caught and killed it a yard off. He raced after Rivley, gaining his feet again.
Rivley put up his hands in surrender. “Look, you’re right. I’m a fool and my head’s not here. It’s back in my workshop because I realized something important about these animals. Can you walk with me while I deliver these goggles?”
“No,” Daeryn snapped. “I’ll protect your fool ass until you’re clear of the field and then deliver them myself. Talk.” He yanked Rivley’s arm, and they broke into a trot.
“Dae, I saw enough that I have an idea about those gobblers. They’re not only from Outside, they’re not natural.”
His huff was mostly a growl. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Bear with me, all right? They’ve got to be designed. Designed to cut down plants efficiently with those oversized incisors and to defend themselves with the second set of jaws. Master Brightwell has talked about animal experiments. Genetics, he called it.”
“Animal experiments? Like they make up something?”
“Exactly,” Rivley said. “Someone has designed these animals to evade predators and destroy crops.”
That just didn’t seem possible. “I’m trying hard to stay with you on this theory, but who? And why?”
“Someone who wants to take over a farm. Doesn’t matter right now. Right now we have to acknowledge that stopping them by all the normal means isn’t going to work. It’ll take a different kind of predator.”
Daeryn pulled him to a stop. “Not more ropens.”
“I didn’t suggest that. But think about what’s not working. The day guards don’t see them because they only sneak in at night. The night guards can’t find them because there’s no smell. Then they are ferocious about protecting each other. But they are still simple enough that Mistress Gere’s brand of protections didn’t stop them from entering the property.”
“Are you saying they’re machines?” No, please, Daeryn thought, that’s too much.
“Not sure. You mammals
said their smell isn’t right.”
“Zar still maintains their odor matches his granny’s clean floor.”
Rivley snapped his fingers. “Cleanliness! Master Brightwell told me genetic experiments take place in a laboratory to avoid contamination.”
That did fit. “Fine, you might be on to something here.”
“More keep coming, because more can be made. Chasing them is pointless. We’ve got to devise a different barrier for the property.” Rivley waved his arms as he thought. “Or lure them into a trap, or develop an automated method of picking them off. Something.”
“I like the automated picker idea,” Jac said from behind them.
Rivley whirled, but immediately dropped his gaze to the ground. “Hang it. These Luci-viewers must work better than your night vision.”
Daeryn chuckled. “Certainly better than your day vision, but I’m used to it.”
“So am I.” Jac crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk, Rivley. If you have a machine to kill them, I’m all for it.”
Rivley pulled off the goggles. “How close can a machine get? It takes a certain proximity before they notice you, doesn’t it? That first I saw didn’t move until I got within, what? Six feet?”
Daeryn and Jac laughed. “We’ve never walked up to one,” she said.
“That first night, the attack was so sudden,” said Daeryn, “we now spend every second jumping at every movement.”
“Joking aside, I have noticed they don’t seem to be afraid of the machines the growers leave in the fields.” Jac rubbed her elbow. “I’ve crashed into more than one of those spindly engines when a gobbler escaped under it.”
“How about equipment in operation?” Rivley asked.
She shrugged. “That’s never running at night.”
He jabbed his thumb southward. A shed where the growers kept a few spiders was just over the rise. “It’s time to find out.”
Jac jerked her head the opposite direction. “I’ve got downed pests that need killing. Dae?”
“Terrent and the new ’cambire won’t miss me. I’ll help Riv, and as soon as I escort him out of here, I’ll start my rounds.” Daeryn nudged him into a jog, muttering, “Believe it or not, Jac hasn’t taken a piece of our hides yet tonight, so make it quick.”
The Twisting Page 6
