Moonlight illuminated tiny pain lines creasing Paloma’s forehead. She held up one hand. “Liam. What else has happened? We know about the fight, the first one, but either Nava told Tom very little”—she paused and frowned—“or he told me almost nothing of what she said.”
Liam cleared his throat and took a drink of water from the bottle strapped to his saddle. “Ruth. Ruth went back to Artistos, waiting only until we were past the fork and gone.”
I groaned, picturing her and Nava laughing in the kitchen the same day she accused Alicia, the same day we’d been almost thrown out of town.
Liam continued. “Ruth took a few of the people in her band that sided with her the most, leaving everyone else to set up winter camp. Once she got to Artistos, she started arguing with everyone she could, I guess, and demanding that a decision to keep you all under some kind of house arrest be made before you got back. Wei-Wei backed her. Lyssa disagreed, but she’s not nearly as loud. Hunter and Nava didn’t say either way, I guess. Nava’s the one who talked to Akashi, and he said she’s divided.”
“She is,” I said. “You saw her up there. If she’d really wanted to take us into custody, she’d have tried harder.”
“She’s not exactly fighting for us,” Liam said. “Akashi’s mad at her. I think he’s mad at all of them. For treating you so badly.”
“Anything else?” Paloma asked.
Liam shook his head. “Not that I know of. Remember, we weren’t there either.”
For a few moments we were all silent. The first bit of daylight began to fill the sky. A cool morning wind blew across my face and ruffled Stripes’s thick dense fur, the beginning of her winter coat.
“When will Joseph and Alicia and Jenna join us?” Kayleen asked.
“I don’t know.” He turned to Paloma. “What happened to your foot?”
We filled him on our trip around the lake, leaving out only the cave and the headband and data buttons. When we talked about hunting, he laughed. “I’ve been hunting for years. Akashi encourages my strengths.” He looked sideways at me. “Did you like it?”
I laughed, touched that he thought I might not, touched that he cared what I felt. “Not as much as Joseph did.”
Leaving out the parts we weren’t ready to tell Paloma made the trip sound less interesting, and Kayleen and I shared a miserable look when we pretended we had found the hebras. But I wasn’t ready to trust Paloma with things Jenna wanted secret, even though I wanted to, since she had chosen to stick with us.
After we finished, Liam looked over his shoulder, probably watching for Akashi. Daylight began to frost the tips of the grasses with sunshine. Liam frowned.
Kayleen smiled tiredly at him. “Tell us about the dragonbirds.”
Liam smiled at her. “Well, they started squawking when we were about two kilometers from Dragon Lake. Loudly, like they were screaming. They did that when we took them, too. And then we saw a whole family of the birds, looking like flying redberry bushes, tracking the wagon. I bet ten of them followed us. The two in the cage screamed even louder as the other birds got closer. I thought the loose birds might attack, so I let the caged ones out.” His eyes sparkled, as if the memory was a good one. “They all joined up and flew back to the lake, squawking and telling stories, and then they all…disappeared…into the redberry bushes.” He smiled softly. “It makes me wonder what else lives so camouflaged here. With all the predators we have, it’s a good strategy. I bet we miss a lot.”
Akashi rode back up, coming from the other direction. I noticed the lines around his eyes looked deep, and that his cheeks were dark and puffy. We had had four hours of sleep at the fork, but they had surely ridden all night. His smile was as warm as ever, though. “It’s all clear.”
The perimeter bells chimed friendly entry as we finally clattered into the spaceport, heading straight for the water trough.
As Stripes began drinking, I started to strip her saddle but Akashi said, “Not yet. There’s more to do.”
“What?” Kayleen asked. “Aren’t we staying here?”
He nodded. “We’ve got to make it safe, first. And before they send anyone down the hill.” He glanced up at the sun, now just fully risen. “We have to do it now.”
“What are we going to do?” Kayleen asked.
“You’re going to take the hebras inside the hangar, and blindfold them,” Akashi said.
I blinked, understanding dawning slowly. “You’re going to burn the grass.”
“Yes. I was hoping for a storm, so they might think it was lightning-sparked. But we’re going to do it anyway. The grass is ready; it happens about this time every year.”
“But what about the animals?” I asked. “We saw a herd of wild hebras last time we were here, and”—I shivered—“paw-cats. And there’s rabbits and jumping prickles and…”
Akashi held up a hand to quiet me. “All of the bigger animals will outrun the fire, especially today, with no wind. Smaller ones will hole up and the fire will burn over them. Some will die. Many of the animals here live only that year between fires, and their young shelter in eggs laid belowground, safe until next spring. It’s the way of these plains, Chelo.”
We would still cost them at least days of their lives. “Well, what about Joseph and Alicia and Jenna?”
Akashi spoke patiently. “Jenna will know as soon as she smells smoke. She’ll keep everyone safe.”
I swallowed again, my eyes watering. “At least there’s no wind,” I said. “We can get it going every direction at once.”
“Good girl.”
I frowned. “Why inside the hangar?”
“Artistos has satellites. No point in giving away how few of us there are.”
Oh.
He nodded at me, and I swallowed hard, and led Stripes toward the hangar.
We piled the tack, all except the head harnesses and lead lines, just outside the hangar door and set Paloma by it to watch, with a damp shirt and a bucket of water to keep it damp next to her. If the smoke got too bad, she’d come inside or breathe through the shirt.
Fire itself was no issue; the spaceport had survived two hundred years of natural grass fires.
We blindfolded the hebras, and Kayleen and I each took two, giving Liam three for the moment. Kayleen had Longface and Sand, I had Stripes and Legs, and Liam had Ink, Star, and Akashi’s whitish hebra, Lightning. Standing in the quiet barn with the animals, dead tired, it seemed to take a long time before anything happened.
The huge shuttles the colonists used to carry goods down from Traveler were dark hulks above us, heavy and almost spooky in the thin light that crept through the tiny windows and in around the door.
Lightning and Legs shifted uneasily, then Stripes lifted her blindfolded head and bugled, sounding like Sugar Wheat had the night of the lightning storm.
Only then did I begin to smell the smoke. I’d smelled it before—every time the plains burned we hunkered down in Artistos, staying inside for the day it took the cleansing fire to burn the plains to smoldering stubble. It was stronger here, stinging my eyes, and first Stripes and then Legs tried to pull away. It grew darker, and I pictured smoke filling the air, obscuring the morning sun.
Akashi darted in the door. “Talk to them.” He grabbed Lightning and Ink, and Liam took Sand from Kayleen. “Get some distance between us. Don’t let them bunch or run.”
My arms quickly tired from hanging on to the leads.
The perimeter rang entrance. “What’s that?” I whispered.
“Animals,” Liam whispered back. “Maybe hebras or paw-cats on their way to the forest. They’ll pass through.”
The bells rang exit.
“See?” he whispered.
We talked and soothed and whispered and sang, our eyes stinging. I lost track of time in the dim gloom of the smoky hangar, as if I had been there forever and would be there forever. Bells rang and rang again and fell silent.
Finally, Stripes leaned down and nuzzled me, content apparently that the fire wo
uld not chase her down.
“Okay,” Akashi said, “slowly now, take one blindfold at a time off.”
We stayed in the hangar with the hebras for another fifteen minutes, ensuring that they were all right. Then we walked, blinking from the smoke, outside the door to join Paloma by the pile of saddles.
We stood in the middle of death.
All around us, blackened grass attested to the killing power of the fire. Beyond the large concrete pad, beyond the blackened expanse of grass, red tongues of fire still burned, all moving away from us. A light breeze blew in off the sea, carrying most of the smoke toward Artistos. What would Bryan think as he smelled the fire? Would he know we set it? Were people in Artistos telling him anything? I swallowed, my throat raw from singing, from talking to the beasts, from smoke. Maybe Tom. Surely Tom would check on him.
Kayleen looked out at the devastation, and said, “I wish we hadn’t done this.”
Akashi said, “We had to. This place is too big to defend by ourselves if people can sneak up on us.”
Paloma looked out over the burning plains, her eyes red and watery, her hair hanging in strings, dark with smoke. Her voice cracked as she asked, “Will it come to that, Akashi?”
He stood, watching the fire, a faraway look in his eyes, his mouth a hard slash in his face. “I hope not, Paloma. I truly hope not. I feel as if the war never ended.”
But this time you’re on our side. I went and stood by him, then gave him a fierce hug.
He leaned into my hug, returning it, smelling like smoke and fire and sweat.
20
A Declaration of War
The fire spent all day spreading out from the spaceport, a ten-and-twenty-foot flame wall flaring, racing to its natural barriers: sea, river, cliff, and steep, wet mountainside. Following, a red-gold carpet of low fire slowly finished the first flame’s work; behind that, smoke and black.
I took the first watch, staring at the fire, feeling the hot wind of change and danger it represented. Afterward, when my eyes stung from smoke, I slept, snuggled in blankets outside the hangar, secure in the knowledge that nothing could approach us for now. The fire would be a barrier to the return of Joseph, Jenna, and Alicia, but it would also be a beacon to them, telling them where to find us.
I dreamed of running animals, racing in front of the fire, of red-and-yellow winged birds flying into the fire, becoming the fire, melting into single red eggs shaped like New Making, of the eggs rocking in sunshine, cracks widening in their sides. I watched to see what came out of the eggs. But something shook the ground, an earthquake…
…Kayleen’s hand on my shoulder. “Wake up. We’re all meeting for dinner.”
Watches lasted two hours. I had slept, fire or not, for eight glorious hours.
I pushed off my blanket, and the dream, looking around. No one but Kayleen and me were in sight; everyone else must be awake and elsewhere. Figures moved in the keeper’s cabin windows. The scent of smoke and ash filled—everything. I stood. The first night stars glimmered over Artistos, shining weakly through gray smoke-stained sky. In the west, the sun shone bloodred just above the water, torching the smoky air with shades of red: blood, brick, and russet.
Kayleen stood beside me, transfixed by the sunset. “That’s beautiful,” she whispered.
I put an arm over her shoulder and drew her close. “Yes.” Joseph and I used to love watching fire sunsets. “Is anyone coming yet?”
Kayleen shook her head. “Akashi expects Jenna and the others soon. He said not to expect anyone from Artistos until tomorrow. I just washed my hair in the trough—it felt wonderful. You should, too—gets the smoke smell away. Come on, let’s eat!”
Surely the keeper’s cabin had a shower? Shrugging, I dutifully followed Kayleen to the cold, bracing trough water and cleaned up, changing into clothes that had been too dirty to wear two days ago. At least they didn’t smell like they’d been roasted in grass-fire all night. Walking to the cabin, I felt better than I’d felt in days.
Akashi and Paloma had cooked up a thick vegetable and root stew and a crumbly golden corn bread I recognized as Paloma’s. Full serving plates filled the tiny table in the keeper’s kitchen. Akashi nodded at us. “Grab a plate. We’re eating outside, by the far corner.”
The corn bread steamed as I split it, smelling like home. I sniffed, breaking off a corner and letting it melt under my tongue before smothering the rest with spicy stew. I wanted to stand like a rude two-year-old and just eat right there, to feed the growling beast in my stomach.
I did lick my fingers, then dip them in stew at the edge of my plate, and lick them again, as Kayleen and I followed Paloma and Akashi across concrete tinted gray with tiny flecks of ash, a test of self-control as my stew cooled beneath my nose. Paloma sat on the concrete corner of the spaceport closest to Artistos. She looked up at us, grinning.
Kayleen stopped, eyes wide with protest. “Mom? How did you get way out here?”
“I walked.” Paloma sounded distracted, her focus on the fire. “Some sleep and some time without being on a big lurching beast helped. So did Akashi; he resplinted my ankle.” She laughed softly. “But I’m still really slow.”
Kayleen sat next to her mom, frowning in consternation. “Just don’t reinjure it, okay?”
I sat, plate on my lap, finally able to fork enough food into my mouth at once to feel warmth radiate through my belly. The fire was easily visible east, toward Artistos, and north, at the edge of the mountains. There, lacking rain, it would slowly consume green underbrush, making more smoke than flame until it ran out of easy fuel. Redberries and mountain-fern were notoriously fire-resistant. To the west and south, small puffs of low smoke announced the fire had already run into sea and river.
The cloudless night sky was sure evidence of our guilt as fire-setters.
“So, Akashi,” Paloma said, “what do we do next?”
“It’s up to us,” I said. It was time for us to make choices, for the altered to stand up for themselves. Paloma and Steven and Therese had taught us to be quiet and invisible. I knew, now, that was the wrong choice. I glanced at Akashi, noticing a spark of approval in his eyes. “We need to make these decisions.”
Paloma narrowed her eyes, gazing at her daughter, frowning. “Whatever you decide affects me.” She looked at Akashi. “The West Band, too. I’m not willing to give up my voice.”
I understood. It was like being forced out of Artistos just as the conversation about our own future started. Akashi and Paloma had helped us. But our freedom was at stake; not theirs. I was the oldest. Joseph, at least, was my direct responsibility. And what he needed, what I needed…we all needed. Freedom and knowledge.
“I’m sorry, Paloma, we do want to hear from you. You, and Akashi, and Tom, too, if he returns. I trust you. But I’m not sure this is a vote.” I groped for the right words. “We have the biggest stake; we can die.”
“The chance of losing a child is a bigger stake than you can know, Chelo,” she replied. As if to emphasize her point, a small quake shivered beneath us, rattling the plates against the concrete.
“I do want to hear from you,” I repeated, closing my eyes for a brief moment, searching for wisdom. I opened my eyes to find Akashi watching me closely, waiting. “Akashi. You’re Town Council. Everyone but you is in Artistos, now. Will they make a decision without consulting you?”
“I hold my Council position as West Band leader. They may try to negotiate with Mayah instead of me, but that won’t hurt our cause.” He glanced toward Liam, who was sitting next to Paloma. “Mayah loves Liam like I do, and she loves me.”
His matter-of-fact trust in Mayah warmed me. Therese and Steven had been like them; Tom and Nava were cool together, and almost never tender with each other. Far better to be like Mayah and Akashi. “Okay,” I said. “But what if they cut Mayah off, too? Can they, or do the town rules prohibit that?”
“A majority can vote a Council position closed,” Paloma said. “But if they vote Akashi off, they vot
e out the West Band. I don’t think they will. The band, by law, gets to choose its representative on Town Council. It’s traditionally the leader, but the band could choose someone else.”
Kayleen scowled down at the ground, scuffing her feet through the ash. “I don’t want to talk about politics, I want to talk about how we get Bryan back. I want to know he is all right.”
“Me, too.” I sighed. Even Kayleen did not see. “It is not so simple. We have to win this with politics—with discussion. Not by fighting.”
She frowned at me. “So how do you plan to use politics to find out how Bryan is?”
I shook my head. I had questions, but no answers; my struggles to find a future vision we all shared hadn’t quite born fruit. Time. I needed time.
A low sound grabbed my attention, deep and throaty, like the machinery in the mill that kept the heavy rollers spinning. It seemed to come from the sea. A memory stirred, fuzzy, of being little, still with Chiaro, and frightened of this sound.
I leaped up, looking toward the noise. No light, just noise; not loud, but getting louder, coming toward us. Lights bloomed, growing bigger, fast. Three round white lights, and two tiny red ones. We were all on our feet, looking. Akashi’s voice, awed and angry. “Skimmer. I thought they were all destroyed.”
Kayleen started to dart away, out into the dark grass, but Paloma yelled, “Kayleen, it’s okay. It has to be Jenna.”
Akashi ran toward the hangar, and we followed, the three of us outdistancing him easily, Liam ahead, and then me and Kayleen next to each other. Liam stopped by the small door, the piles of tack, fumbling for the lead lines. “Get the animals. They’ll want to put it in here.”
The hebras stood in a dark, quivering knot behind one of the shuttles, the big animals dwarfed by the flying machine. We walked through the near-dark, calling to them. Liam flicked on the big overhead lights, startling the hebras. They flattened farther against the wall as the noise grew, the pitch changing, surely signaling that whatever approached was slowing. Ink and Star made low frightened sounds deep in their throats.
The Silver Ship and the Sea Page 29
