A mock-serious look crossed Matchiko’s face. “Do you have any left?”
“Now?” he asked, his face equally full of mischief. “No.”
“Well then. We’ll have to wait and see what’s left by the time we’re done trading.” The fire caught, and he closed the door and stepped back.
There was a small bowl of butter, another one of eggs, and a fresh loaf of bread on the counter. “Did you trade for breakfast, too?” Lou asked.
“No. That was a gift as well. But I traded for a wagon and nails. No wood yet. That’s dear right about now.”
“Horses?”
“Coryn told me you’d want to pick them out.”
“True enough. Can we go right after breakfast?”
“Yes, if I’m done telling you things.”
“What things?”
“Over breakfast.”
Diego shook his head and went out to take care of the horses.
“What’s wrong with him?” Pablo asked.
“I think he misses his brothers,” she quipped.
Matchiko watched him walk down the path. “No. I think he thinks you are a goddess and that Pablo should not be teasing you.”
“Let’s hope not,” Lou whispered.
“Should he hear all of the things that Julianna sent me to tell you?” Pablo asked.
“How would I know? I don’t know what you plan to say yet.”
He hesitated, glanced at Matchiko.
Lou placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Matchiko is like me. She and I and Shuska can hear all of the same things. Always.”
To his credit, Pablo didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “Good to know. The water is nearly hot. If you sit by the window, I’ll bring you coffee.”
“There could be no better food for a goddess.”
“Don’t blaspheme.” His voice contained laughter and warmth. Who knew preachers had a sense of humor?
Pablo’s coffee was bitter and black and made her purse her lips. After a sip, she held it down in her lap and waited for him to begin.
“I’ll be quick,” he said. “And then you can ask me questions in the cracks of the day when we have time. I want to get this out, get you breakfast, and get us up to get horses. There’s five minutes before the stove is hot enough for eggs.”
She nodded.
Matchiko sipped at the coffee, clearly braver than Lou.
Pablo spoke without his usual smile. “There are two things. Your permit is under threat. It could get pulled. Probably not until the spring. But be ready.”
She blinked, stunned by this unwelcome news. She had never heard of a permit being pulled except for a gross violation.
Pablo wasn’t done. “If you lose it, the ecobots will leave, and you will also lose the rights to where you live. The feds can evict everyone. Everyone. Julianna is trying to stop it. She wants you to winter in Chelan, to get close to people.”
“What does she think I’m doing?”
“That. But here’s the second thing. The city’s security analysts have become convinced there are nukes in Chelan. Julianna wants you to help find them.”
Lou took a long, slow sip of the coffee, suddenly happy with the bitterness. “I had heard a whisper of that from Coryn. The nukes. She didn’t think it was true.”
“Julianna is fairly certain they are there.”
She pushed the word nukes back in her head to think about, and focused on the first threat. “How can they pull our permit? We’ve met every requirement.”
Matchiko came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, gripping hard. “The feds do not need to be fair,” she said.
Lou kept her focus on Pablo. “Can Julianna protect us?”
“Coryn is trying. Julianna’s helping when she has time. Her hands are full. Jake is ill, and he is the love of her life.”
Matchiko frowned. “I thought that was a rumor.”
Pablo smiled softly. “I worked for her once, a long time ago. That is no rumor. She and Jake are like one person. How else could they have made a single city?”
Lou raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head.
“The griddle is hot. We’ll talk more on the way to the farm.”
“Can I take a cup of coffee to Diego?”
“Yes.”
She found Diego leaning over the low fence, watching the horses. When she handed him the cup he nodded at her and took it. He felt distant, maybe even a little lost.
“Be careful. It’s stronger than I like. We’ll have breakfast soon. That is, if you want to come in for it.”
“Thank you.” He spoke down at the black liquid. “Sorry I walked out. I don’t like politics. I want to fight, not talk about fighting.”
She studied his strong face. He was a handsome man, wide cheekbones and dark hair and eyes, a rare but tender smile. Out here, away from the shadow his mother and older brother cast over him, he seemed more willing to express his feelings. “What do you want to fight?”
“Anybody that says we can’t make our own choices. I want my own land.”
She grimaced. “None of us can have that. Not anymore.” The great taking had wiped the concept of ownership away and replaced it with permission. “Who do you see as the enemy? Who is saying you can’t have what you want?”
He stared at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to name her. But instead he said, “The city. All the cities. Mathew has been to a few, and he says they’re so crowded he can’t breathe.”
Mathew had Alondra. “Do you know where Mathew is now?”
He shook his head and sipped at his coffee. She had the sense he felt like he’d said too much, so she changed the subject away from Mathew. “My sister is in the city. She loves it.”
He kept his eyes focused on the horses. “Do you know why?”
“I don’t think the cities are ever boring,” Lou mused. “There’s a lot to learn, to do. A constant stimulation.” She shivered a little. “I’ve been, but I don’t like it. I’m here because I want a sky with no weather dome. I want to see forever.”
He smiled at her like he approved. “I don’t think I’d like the city.”
“I don’t think you would either. Let’s go eat.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Lou pushed away from the breakfast table, still contemplating the news Pablo had delivered. Their permit was a shield, but she had played a little loose with rules, allowed Valeria to farm, shared the house. But dammit—those were the right things to do! Nothing was as black and white as the rules and laws about it, and out here there were no police. She’d had to make do. And what if Jake died? What if Julianna died? Would she even have a foundation to run if that happened?
What would happen to Coryn if she lost her benefactors?
Diego raised a hand to get her attention, and then surprised her by saying, “I don’t want to go to town. I want to be sure nobody steals from us.”
“I’ll stay, too.” Matchiko looked like a cat protecting a secret. “While you were outside, I saw what’s already here, and I think you’d want to have two of us for guards.”
Pablo opened the doorway to the garage, and she counted four boxes of precious nails, a spool of rope, and a pile of tools that included shovels and trowels. There were a few unopened bags bulging with who-knew-what, but she didn’t take time for them. She and Matchiko shared a glance. “Yes,” Lou agreed. “Do stay. And be careful.”
She and Pablo walked side by side down a short hill and up another. Pablo carried a pack full of trade goods, and she wore one full of rope leads for the horses. In spite of the news Pablo carried, the preacher was clearly a gift to them. If nothing else, he was a fabulous trader. Maybe she should hire him.
She had found the open-air market the last time they were in Wenatchee. It operated all day and offered everything from old clothes to bicycles and carts. It was noisy and chaotic, at least ten times the size of the one in the warehouse in Chelan. As she walked past a few of the less fortunate merchants, she remembere
d poor Paulette. She turned to Pablo. “Can you spare something small to trade with?”
“For what?”
“A gift.”
In answer, he pulled a bag full of buttons and needles and thread and spread the contents of the top of the bag across his open palm. He hadn’t gotten those from the city, so he must trade and trade again. Her estimation of him kept rising. She plucked three matching blue plastic buttons from him and went in search of something Paulette might like.
When she found it, she had to return to Pablo to get two more buttons. After she traded them to an older woman in a broken-legged rocking chair, she returned to Pablo, holding up a medium-sized plastic horse in her hands: a young bay mare with a white stripe on her face and one white foreleg. He laughed. “I thought you wanted real horses.”
“It’s for a teenager.”
He looked pleased.
“Lou!”
Someone from two aisles over calling her name. Familiar. Who? She turned, searched.
“Lou!”
There were the Silversteins, side by side, smiling and coming toward her. They looked like they’d lost a little weight since she’d first met them in the cabin in the hole in the hills. “We thought we’d never find you.”
Lou gave them a warm hug, a sudden burst of happiness at the small size of the world making her grin widely. “You were looking for me?”
“Yes!” Ray’s smile was so broad it touched his hazel eyes. “Coryn hired us away from No Fences. She said you needed us.” He laughed. “She pays well. And we were ready for an adventure.”
Greta stepped near him, fitting herself into his arms and smiling as well.
Lou shuddered as a great wave of relief swept over her. “I do need you. I do.” Experienced staff would matter. Valeria’s family was great, but the only trained Wilders she had were herself, Matchiko, Shuska, and Daryl. “Do you have horses?”
Ray was still smiling, delighted at her delight. “We brought six horses—four for you.”
“That’s great news.” But then she remembered. “You know our barn burned down?”
He shrugged. “We know how to build barns.”
Greta added, “It’s more fun than tearing things down. We even brought enough food for us for the winter, and bags of grain for the horses.”
Lou stared. “Where did you get bags of grain?”
“We grew grain at No Fences. They needed credit to buy other things and parted with the grain they’d saved for the six horses. Win all around. Coryn’s awesome.”
And to think she hadn’t even known Coryn was working on getting her help. She’d wanted to pick up six horses. Here were four, free. The good fortune was almost too much to bear, too big a counterpoint to the awful night of burning barns. Maybe she could get two extra horses for the -o boys.
Oh, to be home, right now, sharing this news. She smiled at Pablo. “Horses next?”
Choosing four horses took a good hour, and bargaining added more time. Pablo and Greta were clearly good at this, and she knew it wasn’t the best-honed skill in her own bag of tricks. She watched for as long as she could stand, but as soon as they’d acquired the first two horses, she offered to lead them back to the little house and get them ready.
“Sure.” Pablo seemed happy enough to be rid of her and the horses.
These two came with tack, so she left her pack and just took them by the reins, bridled and saddled, and walked out through the rows of tables and toward the house they were staying in. One was a light gray, almost white, and answered to the name Sugar, and the other was reportedly her sister, a bay named Spice. Lou wasn’t sure she bought the sister story, but both horses appeared sound and well-trained, and she was amazed Pablo had gotten them at all. Much less for a pile of credit, a case of whiskey, and four pairs of good city-printed winter boots.
Well, no one had to feed the boots.
She was whispering to the horses, working to gain their trust and recognition, when Pal crossed her, and Mathew pulled him to a stop and looked down at her. “Finally.”
“What?” He looked harried and unkempt, a little wild. And alone. “Where’s Alondra?”
“I’m sending her with you.”
“Where is she?”
“I’ll bring her.”
A deep knot of worry unraveled inside her chest. She took a deep breath of relief. “Where is she?”
“I’ll bring her. Stay put.” He wheeled away. She whispered to Sugar and Spice, the cold soaking into her in spite of the sunlight. Her toes felt numb. Maybe boots did make sense after all.
Was he going to give her Pal back?
It took ten minutes for Mathew to bring Alondra to her. He no longer rode. He just brought the girl, tugging her behind him, and shoved her toward Lou.
Relief took her at the sight of the child, and unexpectedly, joy.
She looked up at Lou, her eyes wide. She shivered in spite of new red coat she wore over the same clothes Mathew had taken her in a few days before.
He growled, “Keep her safe. You’ll have your horse back someday.”
Anger made Lou’s cheeks hot, but he vanished before she could say anything to him. She glanced down at Alondra. “Are you okay?”
She hesitated, as if assessing. “Sure. I’m okay. Now. But he’s really mad.”
“So am I,” Lou whispered. She still had Paulette’s horse. She leaned down and looked in Alondra’s eyes. “This is for Paulette. Would you like to carry it back for her?”
Alondra took it and held it close to her. She smiled, and said, ‘Thank you.”
“Anything, my friend.” She meant it, too.
‡ ‡ ‡
The snow started to fall the next day, about halfway home. No more than a spit at first, small flakes that melted as soon as they touched anything. They made a long line—thirteen horses, six people, and one child with one wagon. To make matters worse, one of the new horses refused to be led, and danced and fretted so much under saddle that Greta had to ride alone without leading another horse. Even at that, Lou wasn’t sure she was going to make it. She leaned over to Ray and asked, “She knows how to jump off if that damned mare takes her over a cliff, right?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. She’ll get her there.”
“Good.” She rode up behind Pablo, leading Sugar and Spice.
They were short three saddles, so three of the horses could only be led. All of the horses packed at least some goods, and it was a struggle for her to keep Sugar away from the grain in the back of the wagon. Spice was less demanding, but it was still tough to manage so many horses. Mouse helped by being her usual steady self.
Snow started to fall. Ten minutes later, the flakes fattened and began to cloak the hills. In another twenty, she could no longer see the whole train of people. Matchiko rode in front, setting the pace on Buster, wedged between sacks of cloth and bags of coffee, tea, and flour. Pablo’s horse pulled the wagon, with Pablo and Alondra perched on the seat, and then Lou, the Silversteins, and in the end, Diego.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Chelan, the snow rose up over the horses’ fetlocks, white and wet.
In the hour it took to slog the rest of the way home, so much snow fell that Lou lost visual track of everyone else except the back of the wagon and Pablo’s bobbing head. She started a roll call of numbers, front to back and back to front; she could hear Matchiko’s shouted “One!” and through the two Silversteins, but the only way she knew Diego was still okay was when Greta called out “Five!” in between cursing her fractious mount.
Near the top of the drive, Shuska materialized like a snow-covered ghost and led them to a lean-to made of a combination of parked ecobots and materials they’d scavenged from destroyed houses in the four days of the trip. The other -o boys met them there and helped unload the wagon before they started fawning over the new horses. Lou didn’t tell them two were theirs, not until she could talk to Julianna and get Pal back. Surely there’d be a good moment for a special surprise.
They were going to have to raise a barn in the dead of winter. But for now, they needed to get warm. She reached for Alondra’s hand and headed toward the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Astrid’s face when she saw her daughter.
CHAPTER FORTY
Seacouver was bright blue and white and downright loud this close to the holiday. Every religion seemed to have a holy day in or near December, and for those of no particular religion, there was always the solstice on the twenty-first and New Year’s Eve. As usual, prodigious displays of seasonal fashion brightened all levels of the city.
The city’s weather systems had allowed it to rain for three of the last five days, but tonight Coryn managed with no umbrella as she hurried through the streets at ground level, her new silver coat tight about her. She’d grown up here, but after she started working with Julianna she’d taken to the richer heights of the city, traversing it mostly on bridges except for her longer runs. Imke had reminded her that this city, the one that touched the ground, was the one she needed to understand if she wanted to lead anything.
She passed small short-stay rooms designed for travelers or students on basic-basic, a few for slightly richer tourists, and the street-level entrances to fancier hotels and apartments. At this level, the disaffected walked the streets, those the city had lost other than to provide a minimum level of sustenance for. She passed quiet autistics minded by drones, old people with bent bodies, and others who had simply chosen to accept the most basic deal and be happy enough. Some reminded her of her itinerant parents, moving year by year in search of something they never found, and now dead by suicide.
Imke was right, though. It was important to remember all of the people in the cities. She had been spending her time with those in power, with those who thrived on the technology-driven soul of the city. She had always loved the city, fit inside of it, but no one else in her family had done the same. These were her roots, these people down here.
Imke had been good for her in a thousand ways, and now Coryn would see them again soon. Soon, the delegations and work of governing the northwest would shut down for the holidays, and Imke had invited Coryn to loop to Chicago.
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