by Melle Amade
The eight second buzzer goes off.
The crowd all around the rodeo grounds jump to their feet clapping and yelling in unison.
“Well, he didn’t make the buzzer folks, but that might just be the most amazing ride I have ever seen in all the years I’ve been rodeoing.” The announcer’s voice is a soft drawl of respect as it sails across the speakers.
But I’m not fooled.
I know Roman.
I race to the back gate of the arena as the riders race off to catch the bronco and Roman walks to the back gate with head held high and firm, strong steps. It’s not until he gets to the gate and grabs onto it, leaning his head against it that he shows any sign he was really hurt by that animal.
2
Callum and Cooper get to Roman at the same time, each scooping him under his arms as he sags against the fence. They lift him away from the gate as I open it.
“You idiot.” I visually inspect him for injuries. He’s limping and his face is scraped up.
“I still did it,” he winks.
“You almost got yourself killed.”
“We’re going to take you to the first aid booth,” Cooper points to a tent over by the big oak trees and trailers at the back end of the grounds. “If we don’t, they’ll ask questions.”
“Where’d it hit you?” Zan asks.
“I think he got him in the head,” Cooper says as Roman’s head sags forward.
“Well hopefully it knocked some sense into him.” I shut the gate and trot to keep up with their long strides.
“I don’t really think that’s helping,” Callum quietly says to me.
“Where’s Henry?” Zan asks. I glance around as well, fully expecting him to be right behind me. But he’s nowhere in sight. My heart races, pressing against my lungs and making it hard to breathe. It was difficult enough when he left Topanga, but now I’m here with him I need to keep an eye on him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about being a shifter, it’s that you’re never truly safe.
“We’ll take him to the infirmary,” Callum says. “Go find your brother.”
I hate the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach at the way he says that. Like he’s worried. Like he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for Henry to be out of our sight either.
“I’ll go around the arena that way,” Zan points forward. “You go back the other way and we’ll meet on the opposite side by all those booths. Don’t worry, one of us is going to find him.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m sure he’s not gone far. Probably just got distracted by another kid or something.”
“Nothing happens here,” Cooper laughs. “Not unless you’re riding a tractor or a wild horse.”
I glance at Roman and his eyes are slipping closed. I reach forward and tap his face with the flat of my hand, trying to keep it civil. “Stay awake. You probably have a concussion.”
He gives me a smile out of the side of his mouth. “Don’t you have somebody else to harass right now?”
Zan is already heading through the crowds ahead of us. I turn back and go the way we came. I scan the cowboys by the shoots and the kids hanging out by the bullpen. But none of them are my little brother. As I go back by the bleachers I see Mom and Zan’s family sitting there. But I’m not about to go and ask them if they’ve seen Henry. Mom would have a conniption fit—safe when it would happen in our isolated Topanga home, but never good in public. It was bad enough when I arrived and told her Dad wasn’t with me. That he wasn’t going to be with me or us for possibly a long, long time.
She’s been really brave to my face. But it hadn’t fooled me. Dad is her rock.
When we had first pulled up at Spotswood Ranch, Henry dashed towards me, almost knocking me over as he wrapped himself in my arms. Mom joined our hug and I breathed in the air of the three of us. Right then it didn’t matter who was a dove or a raven or a shifter or a wyte, it just mattered we were together. The dangers of life with the Order had become so real, we had barely made it out alive. But now, three of us were safe.
We just needed Dad.
I had planned on how to gently tell Mom what happened. But I blurted it out when she started to look around for him.
“He’s not here,” I said, forcing myself to watch the avalanche of fear and sadness crash across her face.
“Where-?” she began to ask as I let the truth tumble out.
“He’s a voluntary prisoner of the Order.”
Mom blinked back all of her emotions, hard. She’s a master at hiding whatever she’s going through, but that moment settled in my gut like a rotten egg. She didn’t ask me anything else, just stared at me, waiting to find out what happened.
“They were going to execute me.” My voice shakes at the reality of the words. “Dad stepped in. Told El Oso he had what he wanted and then shifted into a Dove.”
Mom sucked in her breath and scratched worriedly at her wrists. Her rock, the foundation she rested her life on, was gone and, judging by the dark depression creeping into her face, she wasn’t expecting to get him back.
Still, even in that moment, her eyes suddenly flashed clear and bright, as she wiped her crinkly hair out of her eyes and pulled Henry and me tightly into her scrawny body. “You are my world,” she whispered against the tops of our heads.
I pulled back because never in my life had I heard words like that coming out of Mom’s mouth, but her eyes were soaked in love and it radiated across her face.
That’s when I lost it.
I threw my arms around her neck and started crying like I was never going to stop. But, I had to. There was no falling apart in the shifter world.
And certainly not over an eight-year-old inquisitive boy wandering around a small community rodeo.
Still, by the time I get to the other side of the bleachers, my breath is shallow and my hands are clenched. Still no sign of Henry, and I’ve covered almost the entire terrain. All that’s left are the booths set up by the entrance where vendors are selling a variety of snow-cones, cotton candy, and rodeo related toys like wooden guns and lassos. I’m guessing he’s not at the beer booth. Maybe he’s signing up for the pig run. Apparently, that’s an event they do at halftime with all the kids ten and under. They get them in the arena and let some little piglets go. If you catch one, you get to take it home and, I don’t know, I guess raise it? Probably eat it at some point. Seriously, I don’t know how these people live in the country. Mom said she might sign Henry up for it. So maybe he just went back to make sure he was signed up.
There’s still a crowd of kids and their parents grouping around the pig run, but as I scan them I don’t see the brown mop of hair that is Henry. I stand there, closing my eyes with my hands on my hips, breathing slowly and easily. This isn’t a shopping mall in Los Angeles. We are at the rodeo grounds in a small farming community. The closing thing to civilization is twenty miles away. There is nothing going on here. He is going to be fine. He’s just become distracted.
The flapping of a tarp slapping against itself jerks at my ears and I open my eyes. On the other side of the beer stall is another booth whose roof-top is cut a little loose and the wind is lifting it back-and-forth, making a slapping noise. At the top is a stunningly decorative beaded sign made out of the smallest beads I’ve ever seen. Beautiful chains of beads weave side-by-side, building large letters that read “The Lodge.” You don’t see handmade beauty like that much anymore.
“Yeah, I’m totally going to ride a bucking bronco one day.” The high-pitched tones of Henry’s voice startle me and I look just to the side of The Lodge booth. There stands Henry smiling up at a stunning dark-skinned girl who only looks a few years older than him. She has shoulder length black hair and a full moon face with a dimple in one cheek and a warm smile as she looks down at my little brother.
“You might change your mind on that when you get a little bigger,” she says. “I’d never ride an animal in the rodeo.”
“I’m not afraid,” Henry says. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Oh,” Henry’s brow wrinkles as he shoves his hands in his front pockets. “I didn’t think about that, I guess.”
“Henry,” I step in quickly and place in my hand on his shoulder. I don’t want to embarrass him, but he really freaked me out. “You can’t just go running off like that.”
“I made a friend,” Henry says. “Guinevere, this is my sister Shae.”
“You can call me Evie.” The girl smiles up at me and holds out her hand.
“Hi, Evie.” I take her hand and shake it even though guilt riddles through me. Henry doesn’t have any friends up here. We had to take him out of Topanga completely weeks ago. He’s been in hiding since before my presentation to the Order. It’s kind of weird, he doesn’t completely realize we’re in hiding. Just thinks he gets to live on a ranch with a whole bunch of adults and older kids. We’re stuck doing chores all day and he gets to practice roping cows with a lariat on a plastic cow head stuck on the end of a bale of hay in the backyard. As much as I try to hang out with him, I’m not really good company lately.
“Henry tells me you guys are new here,” Evie says. “I haven’t seen him in school yet. Classes only started last month. So maybe he’s going to start next week or something?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” I glance over at the stall where a tawny man and woman, with matching dark long hair, are talking to a couple of interested shoppers gazing over the table of intricately woven baskets and delicate jewelry. They both look like they’re in their early twenties, too young to be Evie’s parents. “You guys make this stuff?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Yes,” Evie grins as my eyes take in the delicate beadwork of the jewelry and the intricate weaving of baskets. “That’s my brother Hercules and his girlfriend Jacqueline.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Only don’t tell her I said she’s his girlfriend. She doesn’t even want to be his girlfriend and doesn’t act like his girlfriend. But I just know one day they’re going to get together. As soon as she stops being such a stick in the mud.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the girl’s perspective.
“Can we have a play date?” Henry interrupts.
“Oh, um, yeah, I’m not sure about that.” I stammer as Hercules looks up, narrowing his eyes at me. Crap. It’s not that I don’t want Henry to play, it’s just I have no idea if a play date would be sanctioned. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be.
“It be great if you guys wanted to have a play date,” Hercules steps over to shake my hand. “I’m Evie’s brother and her guardian.”
“I’m Shae,” I murmur. “Um, Henry’s sister.”
“Well, Shae,” Hercules smiles. “We run the shop just over at Hopper’s Corner. Evie is there most afternoons after school. Anytime you want to bring Henry over, they can grab a popsicle and go to the playground. It’d be fun for Evie to have a friend.” He puts his arm around her and I get the sense she doesn’t have a ton of them either.
“Yeah, Okay. Um, we’ll see about that.”
Hercules smiles despite my hesitation. Jacqueline finishes the sale of one of her baskets and her eyes are on us, quickly scanning Henry and me. It’s like a feather dusting my skin in a prickly, uncomfortable manner. I get the uncanny sense she can see right through us.
She knows immediately we’re shifters.
My hand inadvertently goes up to my neck, making sure the bandanna is still tied around my throat and covers the collar.
“You found him,” Zan says stepping up behind us.
It feels like the temperature just went down ten degrees. Behind Zan stands her Aunt Emma and Uncle Steve, the rulers of Spotswood Ranch where we are all staying. Shifters are not as formal up here as they are down in Topanga, but Aunt Emma rules the ranch with a much stronger hand than Lord Van Arend ever ruled Muiderkring West. Now they stand behind Zan, they’re eyes laser focused on Hercules and Jacqueline. Aunt Emma has her arms folded across her chest and Uncle Steve has his hands on Zan’s shoulders. Jacqueline isn’t looking at them too warmly either.
“I don’t think we’ll be doing any play dates,” Aunt Emma says.
My eyes grow wide at the open hostility. I quickly move to Henry. There’s no way he needs to be around this. His face is crestfallen as I grab his hand and take him a little bit away from Evie. Hercules is just smiling, like everything is business as usual.
But Jacqueline looks fit to boil.
“We weren’t talking about bringing Evie to Spotswood Ranch,” she says. “Just letting the kids play here on the playground. You have rules against that, now?”
“There’s no need to build relationships we can’t maintain,” Uncle Steve says in a perfunctory manner.
I raise my eyebrows as Henry looks up at me with confusion.
“We’ll work something out,” I whisper to him.
“Let’s go look at the toy guns,” Zan say with false excitement, waving to a booth some distance away.
“They’re shifters?” I hiss at Zan as Henry runs forward and starts going through every single wooden gun they have in the stall.
Zan nods. “Quail clan.” She positions herself with her back to the stall, eyeing her aunt and uncle warily. “You shouldn’t have been talking to them.”
“Now you tell me,” I say. “How can I figure stuff out if you don’t tell me things?”
Even from here I can see Jacqueline is getting more and more angry, and it looks like Aunt Emma is giving her a lecture. I’ve seen Aunt Emma deliver some of those lectures to Cooper and Uncle Steve, and even, on occasion, shorter versions to us. But it seems like she’s got a lot to say to Jacqueline.
Jacqueline’s hands are at her sides, her fingers outstretched, and it looks almost as if heat is radiating off her.
“Can I get this one?” Henry runs up to me waving a wooden rifle. But as I reach for the price tag, the earth begins to quake and everything moves around us. Henry falls towards me as the ground shakes under our feet.
“Earthquake!” Somebody shouts.
I grab the folding table, to stabilize Henry and myself, but it buckles. We fall to the ground with the toy guns and cowboy hats tumbling around us. I’m on my knees and clutching Henry close, my teeth rattling.
Finally, the earth stops vibrating.
My gaze flies around the booths to see if anyone needs help. Most people are on the ground, clutching onto something or someone.
Everybody except Jacqueline.
She’s standing there, eyes steady and cold as she looks down at Aunt Emma, who is being helped up off the ground by Uncle Steve.
Hercules is already back on his feet and helping Evie up. He tries to reach a calming hand to Jacqueline, but she just turns and leaves the rodeo grounds. The heat is no longer radiating from her hands and the ground is no longer shaking.
I’m left with the uncanny sense that the earthquake came from her.
3
“Would somebody kill that thing?!” Roman’s voice breaks through the dust-scented darkness of the old barn and digs into my slumber.
Cock-a-doodle-doo.
Cock-a-doodle-doo.
The rooster’s raucous caw ricochets down my spine. I don’t move. The gloom around us presses into the cold metal collar squeezing my neck. Straw rustles, dry and brittle, as Roman grapples to his feet.
“Someone is going to kill you,” he shouts towards the rafters.
I roll over and force myself into a sitting position, squinting through the dim morning haze inside our shelter. For the low-density countryside of Northern California, it sure is noisy. “You’re making more noise than the stupid chicken,” I hiss, trying not to wake the others.
“I think it’s sitting right over your head.” Roman’s hulking shadow looms above me as he peers into the rafters.
“Told you it was stupid
.” I glance at Zan, lightly snoring to one side of me. “What chicken roosts near a coyote? Leave it. She’ll probably eat it for breakfast.”
“Raw.” Roman glares at the rooster as if it’s a shifter like us and can understand what he’s saying. “Eyeballs and all.”
The red feathered offender throws back his head in defiance.
Cock-a-doodle-doo.
Roman grabs something off the ground and hurls it into the beams. The bird spreads its wings and, with a slight look of disdain, glides to another roost.
“I think you just chucked a horse apple,” I snicker.
“Shit!” Roman wipes his hands on his dusty jeans.
“Yep.” I frown as Henry stirs. He should be in the house with Mom, but when he realized to the teens would sleep in the barn, he insisted on joining us. The barn is bigger than two of our houses back in Topanga. It’s faded red plank walls soar up to the curved roof where Roman’s newest enemy now lurks. My neck aches as I look. It’s not just from the collar; sleeping on straw sucks.
Though you can’t tell by the way Zan and Callum are sleeping soundly, I tuck the blanket up around Henry’s neck to keep the chill off. It’s only early October, still beach weather in Los Angeles, but we’re in the North now and it’s harvest season.
Mendocino County. Five hundred miles up the coast and a bit further inland than Topanga. On the edge of the Redwood Empire, where giant sequoias soar like immortal guardians over the landscape, dwarfing humans and shifters alike. When we first got here, some of Zan’s cousins took us up into the majestic forests surrounding the Potter Valley, where the sun made an extra effort to push through the murk to reach the plants beneath the massive trees.
I loved it. It felt safe, secluded, protected.
