They reminded her of Akita.
Sam was broad but not fat, simply big. His eyes were small and suspicious, with chunky cheeks above a wide mouth that probably looked great when it smiled. Not that she could tell right now. He sat almost behind Henrietta, his posture protective.
She turned to Valeria. Blood soaked the left arm of her white shirt, the whole effect one of a bit-player in a horror movie until Lou looked into her eyes and saw the deep determination there. If Henrietta was alpha, so was Valeria.
She helped Valeria to a seat and took up a position much like Sam, a place where Valeria could lean into her if she needed to. She could also see both the house, which was quiet and well lit, and the burning barn. Barns.
The arm had to be painful, but Valeria merely kept it near her, cradled. She leaned a bit toward the old woman, a cold smile on her face. “You would be welcome here if you did not bring me violence. We kept our word.”
Henrietta said, “We cannot allow these things.” She tapped on the back of the ecobot. “They cannot be here.”
“I and my family did not bring them,” Valeria said. “But we took them in, took in the people who brought them, because we feared the size of the rabble in town. You keep your own in check, but there are many new people, and I will not have my family harmed.”
As if in answer, the flames burst even brighter behind them, and a gust of wind blew the sounds of angry voices toward her. Three drones flew low over the back of the ecobot and away, toward the fire.
The ecobots appeared to be working together.
Henrietta said, “Most people in town came here at my request. We believe we no longer need you.”
“Winter will be upon us. We have always helped feed the town.”
Sam said, “Perhaps they’d like horse meat.”
Lou managed not to hit him.
Henrietta tapped his knee. A signal of some kind. She did not look at him.
Valeria laughed. “You know you need us. We can help you, protect you if necessary.”
Henrietta stiffened. “I need no protection.”
“You gave the order to shoot me.”
“I did. You were my staff once, loyal to me. But you have grown proud.” She tapped the ecobot with her knuckles. “We cannot afford to have people stained with the city so close to us.” She glared at Lou, her eyes hard. Then she turned her attention back to Valeria. “You could join us.”
“I have never. I will not. I wish you no harm. But I will not stop you from throwing the lives of your young men away.”
“Some of your young come to see me,” Henrietta said.
Valeria spat her daughter’s name out. “Sofia.”
“And some of your boys.” Henrietta didn’t wait to see if her words stuck Valeria hard before she continued, “Some of your boys need ways to express anger. You give them songs.”
Valeria’s chin was up, and her eyes glittered with anger and maybe even hatred. “I do!”
Henrietta tapped the ecobots. “Will your Wilders stay neutral?”
Lou interrupted. “Valeria does not speak for us. Nor we for her. We have a job to do. I met with Agnes in town. I promised her we would not destroy the occupied parts of town this year. We did not. That is a compromise I may be in trouble for, and it is all I can promise. Some of my orders come from my bosses.”
Henrietta spit on the top of the ecobot and ignored Lou, keeping her eyes on Valeria. “Join us and we will keep you safe.”
“I will not join a war,” Valeria said. “The way to life and happiness is peace. I will protest peacefully. I will convince, and you know I can do that well. But I will not fight.”
“Some of your boys will fight.”
Valeria stiffened.
The old woman spoke as if she had all the power in the world, but Lou wondered what she actually had. These people had come up here without her, and if it had been on her orders, why was she here?
The radio crackled, and Shuska’s voice said, “The other ecobot has chosen to stop the people who fired the barn.” Shuska’s voice was deadpan, utterly devoid of emotion. “It is asking if you would like them back or if it should keep them contained.”
Lou almost broke out into a cheer, but managed to control herself.
Valeria also kept a poker face. “If you want your looters back, you will need to promise to take them all and to leave.”
Henrietta sat very still. “You can let them go and come with us. Then none of us will be back until after we win our freedom. We might even help you rebuild.”
Valeria shook her head.
The old woman was still for a very long time.
Valeria clutched her arm tighter, her face white with pain.
Sam looked furious.
Lou tried to tell if the flames were growing larger or smaller. The smudge of smoke had thickened enough to obscure the stars in one direction and above it. Probably larger. Anger burned in her belly and she looked away. For now.
An airplane flew over them all, quiet and bright with blue and white lights, a reminder that the cities and their prodigious technologies existed.
Sam lifted his arm up and spoke into his wrister. “Report.” He held it to his ear.
She had wondered if they had any good communications.
His jaw tightened as he listened. “Give us a minute to talk,” he said.
Lou walked to the other side of the bot. She crouched near the edge, looking toward the fires. She couldn’t make out anything near the flames, just smoke and less noise than before.
Below them, people sat talking in small groups. No yelling.
A rustle made her look behind her. Valeria had stood up in all of her bloodstained white glory. Somehow, she had gotten her hair loose with one hand, and it spilled about her shoulders. She looked glorious and dangerous now, a key actor rather than an extra in a bad movie. She stared over the edge of the bot until all of the eyes directly below them looked up.
Drones flew circles of protection over her head, a damning halo of city technology.
“We’ve given them long enough,” Lou said.
“They can come to me.” Valeria leaned over the edge, almost far enough to lose her balance, and then stood straight again. She started speaking:
“The cost of hatred is death, the cost
Of death is death, and the cost of death
Is hatred. Peace flows from the brave.”
A poem. Lou had no idea if anyone other than she herself could hear. But after Valeria spoke, she turned and went back to Henrietta, standing over her with a soft smile.
Henrietta stared at Valeria, her expression completely unreadable to Lou. After what seemed like a long time, she said, “We will leave now.”
“All of you?”
“Yes.”
“And you will not come back.”
“We will not return this winter.”
Valeria seemed to be considering this. When she opened her mouth, it was to repeat the poem:
“The cost of hatred is death, the cost
Of death is death, and the cost of death
Is hatred. Peace flows from the brave.”
It was powerful, and yet it left Lou wondering how sane it was to say such a thing. It was not an answer.
The words didn’t seem to take Henrietta by surprise, though. She nodded in accord, and Lou sensed the thickness of the history between these two women.
“Perhaps I will see you next Saturday,” Valeria said.
Henrietta snorted. “I don’t get out much.”
“Come.” Sam helped Henrietta to the edge of the ecobot. It picked the two of them up as before, and set them down on the ground.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The next morning dawned cold and bright. Lou paced the perimeter of the still-smoking barn with Shuska beside her. The new barn. Dammit. The twisted metal and ash remains were shades of blacks and whites, with no brighter color anywhere. It mocked her. She had finally felt like they were done with the big things, that
they had an adequate base. “I was so proud of this barn.”
Shuska wore her calm face this morning, a deep sadness showing only in the drift of her shoulders down and the lack of a smile. Always steady. “I already sent one of the ecobots to the debris pile to see what we can use to rebuild.”
Lou toed the edge of the wide, jagged firebreak the bot had dug. If the ecobots hadn’t helped, the fire would have taken more, maybe even taken everything. They were lucky it hadn’t sparked the other outbuildings or the farm house. A little more wind . . .
“Did you hear me?” Shuska asked.
“Sorry. I’m distracted. I spoke to Coryn this morning and she said she stopped Pablo in Wenatchee. He’s going to obtain materials for us.”
Shuska looked over at her. “So our communication came back. Do you know why we lost it?”
“Coryn can’t tell either. She’s working on it. At least it’s back.”
“I bet our enemies include some hackers.” An eddy of wind picked ash up and coated their pant legs, and Shuska waved a hand as if to fan the air clean. “Do you need an ecobot to deliver the materials?”
“I’m hoping for a horse and wagon.”
Shuska grunted.
The only thing left of either barn was twisted metal. The tines of a pitchfork, one edge bent open by something—an ecobot’s foot or even the heat. Hard to say. She pointed. “We might save that hay feeder.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t seen Alondra.”
“No.”
“You are a woman of one-word answers.”
“Yes.”
Lou smacked her playfully on the arm and Shuska picked her up and hugged her close. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”
“Me too. Put me down.”
Shuska did.
Lou nodded, amused. “Thank God you’re my friend.”
Shuska smiled down at her. “Only that?”
“Never.” Shuska’s smile warmed her enough that she smiled in spite of the destroyed barns. “I’m going up by the wolves. I’d really like to find Alondra. I plan to take some cameras.”
“I can go.”
“Felipe is coming with me. He will be enough. We probably need you here to work with Daryl on the barn.”
Shuska only looked mildly annoyed. “Good for you and him to get along.”
“I’m leaving for Wenatchee tomorrow morning. Weather says I can probably do it, but that five days from now there will be snow.”
“It’ll be close.”
“One of you needs to go with me.”
Shuska pursed her lips. “Take Matchiko. Daryl and I will clean up this mess.”
“Okay.” She’d have been all right with either, but Matchiko blended into crowds better. “Take care of Valeria.”
“That woman needs no help.”
“Don’t overestimate her.”
“Don’t underestimate her.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
They both laughed.
Lou turned her back to the barns. They would rebuild. Henrietta and her mob would not stop them, and neither would weather or the incessant demands from the city.
‡ ‡ ‡
Lou and Felipe reached the den just after midday. The sun lit the ridge and birds called and fluttered in the forest behind them. Akita came out of the mouth of the den as soon as they reached the spot where she and Alondra had watched, almost as if he had been waiting for them. He lifted his head and howled softly. It sounded like a greeting.
Ghost emerged, standing beside her mate. She was so beautiful Lou nearly forgot to breathe.
To her surprise, Felipe howled back. He sounded like a wolf, his voice echoing and reflecting from the rocky ridge opposite them, and then fading into the forest at their backs.
“What are you saying?” Lou asked.
Felipe turned his always-serious face toward her and held a finger up to his lips.
She frowned, but rather than showing him that the gesture irritated her she got up and started looking for a good place to mount cameras.
“Wait,” he said. “I have to ask first.”
“Ask who?”
“Akita.”
These people were crazy. But she was also a bit at their mercy, and this trip was partly designed to show Felipe she wouldn’t disrespect or hurt the wolves. Hardly the position she’d expected to be in, but if he wanted to consult the alpha wolf, so be it.
She could be patient and watch.
Felipe and Akita stared at each other. Felipe brought out a flute that she hadn’t even known he carried, small and slender. As he touched it to his lips, she realized it was more like a Native American flute than a concert flute. He blew softly, then arranged his fingers and started playing.
He reminded her of Valeria playing to the deer by the mountain stream. The music captured her attention and seemed to take her floating with it on the wind.
She stayed quiet, breathing slowly, trying to figure out what he was doing.
The pup peered out.
Rumpus was nowhere to be seen.
The music sounded ethereal.
The three wolves—mother, father, and child—all sat and listened to him. From time to time an ear twitched. Otherwise, they were quiet.
Felipe played for half an hour. When he stopped, Ghost and the pup retired to the den, leaving Akita to watch them.
Felipe stood, put the flute away, and nodded to her.
It turned out that he was excellent at putting up cameras.
‡ ‡ ‡
Mathew hadn’t come home or sent word by the time Lou left just before dawn the next morning. Presumably Alondra was still with him. The clear sky promised warmth that hadn’t yet materialized; Lou wore a thick coat, wool socks, and a scarf, and still she shivered. The only warm spot was her back, where Matchiko rode behind her on Buster.
Diego led them down the road. She had chosen Diego when Matchiko reminded her of the injured Angel. Diego had offered to take no pay, presumably so Angel could be paid, but Lou had made them settle on half each, which seemed to please everyone. Such a practical family.
While she hated to separate the -o boys for anything, Diego had done a good job keeping Mouse safe, and he had followed her orders when he clearly didn’t want to. Both things recommended him.
After a few hours, the sun warmed them enough make them strip off their coats as they rode just above the Columbia, the day so flawless it seemed like everything just had to turn out all right.
They were still outside the edges of Wenatchee when it grew dusky enough that Lou suggested they stop for the night. Diego selected a lone tree for them to sleep under, and Lou helped set up camp and feed the horses. Stars began to prick the cold sky, and silence slowly fell over the night except for the occasional stamp of a horse’s foot as it fought the deep cold.
She took the first watch. Early in, a few coyotes howled in the hills, and after they fell silent a rabbit’s death scream startled her. Two owls talked back and forth between two trees, and from time to time she hooted at them. The constant white noise lulled her, and toward the end of her shift, she paced to keep both warm and awake. No traffic went by on the road. By the time she shook Matchiko awake, she was cold and shivery, and it took a while to warm up enough to sleep.
She woke to a dead fire and a soft whistle. Diego had the third watch, and he pointed at a brown man on a brown horse, who looked a lot like an older and grayer version of Diego himself. The man was whistling a low tune, watching the river but clearly aware they were there. “I think he wants your attention,” Diego murmured.
She smiled and pulled herself up and out of her sleeping bag, certain she knew who he was. “Pablo!” she called.
She had never seen him, but Coryn had sent her pictures, and his smile matched one of the photos almost exactly. Warm, almost soft, and full of knowledge. A preacher’s smile if she’d ever seen one.
Come to think of it, not that different from Valeria’s smile.
; He bent low over his horse and made a sweeping gesture. “May I offer you access to a house with a working kitchen.”
She laughed. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ll feed you breakfast there. It’s not far.”
The suggestion of breakfast made her belly growl. By now, Matchiko was up as well, and just as curious as Lou. Diego looked a little doubtful, so Lou said, “Coryn trusts him.”
“Very well.” He started settling Buster’s tack on his broad back as the two women broke camp. Diego was ready by the time they were. About ten minutes after she first heard Pablo’s soft whistle, they were on the way to town.
Pablo remained silent for the few moments it took to reach the house. A chain-link fenced yard surrounded it, perfect for the horses. As soon as he opened the door, a ball of white fur leapt up into his arms.
“Is that Aspen?” Lou asked. “Or Aspen’s evil twin?”
“Yes.” He put the dog down, and it came over to snuffle at her feet, whining for a pat.
She knelt and obliged, feeling like Aspen’s presence made Coryn feel a little closer. “You must have seen Coryn. How is she?”
“She’s working too hard and worried about too much. She spends a lot of time thinking about you and what you need. Come on in. There’s coffee.”
The kitchen did have running water. A potbellied stove with a stovetop sat against a wall in the living room. It looked so normal that she almost expected a working toilet, and she had to sigh when there was no shower. “The water comes in but there’s no sewer,” Pablo explained. “Someone jury-rigged the kitchen pipes to run to a ditch outside the house. They can treat gray water, so maybe a shower could be rigged up, but there’s no sewer treatment.”
“Still, not bad. Did you know this was here?”
He didn’t look up from the open door of the stove, where he was shoving a lit paper under dry wood in a fire he’d clearly prepared before they arrived. “It was offered.”
She frowned. “Because you’re a preacher?”
“I brought a few trade goods. The address cost me a bottle of whiskey.”
Keepers Page 32
