by Lori Devoti
“So the members who disagree with the majority, who think killing that baby is the wrong choice, they don’t matter.”
My mind stuttered.
“Majority wins, might makes right, and the other Amazons, those who didn’t win, have no value at all?”
“I didn’t say they didn’t have value.” Of course they did; they were still Amazons.
He tapped his fingers again, just the middle ones this time. “You ever been in the minority, Zery?”
“There is no minority in the tribe. We all believe the same thing; it’s what keeps us strong.”
“Not anymore.”
I wasn’t sure what he was saying . . . believing the same thing didn’t keep us strong or that we didn’t all believe the same thing. But I had already faced that, realized we were all individuals. I just hadn’t worked it out to the next step, that if we disagreed on the little things, we might disagree on the big ones too. The ones that might split not just the council, but the tribe.
“Maybe all the Amazons don’t agree. Maybe some think working with the sons is smarter, better for the tribe, than trying to fight us. You’re the Indians, Zery, and we’re the white flood. We aren’t going away.”
I snorted. “Like working with whites helped the Indians. I’d rather die my way than have everything I stand for and believe in stripped away from me.”
“Yes, you are definitely Geronimo rather than Washakie. Most Amazons are, but what makes you think the enemy is only outside the Amazons? What makes you think the sons are the sole threat? As I said, we’ve watched you, we know about you—things you don’t even know about yourselves.”
“You’re saying there are Amazons who want to damage the rest of us? Why?”
“Not damage. Change.”
“You want us to change.”
“True, but we aren’t the only ones. And we don’t even want you to change that much. We just want the tribe to acknowledge us, to work with us—to realize they don’t need to kill and maim their own children to stay safe.”
A pain began to pound inside my head, right behind my eyes. What he was saying didn’t make sense, or maybe it made too much sense.
I stood. I was done with the conversation. I was ready to go home where things made sense. I’d call the council from there and tell them everything. See what was true.
And I wasn’t taking the son with me.
He must have sensed it. He didn’t follow me. When I reached the Jeep, I looked back. He’d pulled a phone from somewhere and was talking into it. He had a cell. Of course he did. And another son would be here soon, picking him up and most likely dropping him off where he could spy on me again.
I should have stayed, or left and sneaked back, but I didn’t. I got in my vehicle and left.
I knew it wouldn’t be the last I’d see of Jack, knew it wouldn’t be the last chance to kill him or for him to kill me.
I pulled into the safe camp around one. I knew immediately something was wrong—or different, at least.
Two of the birders were sitting in lawn chairs in the front yard. Squatting beside them was Areto. As I approached, I noticed they were holding a small box, the same type of electronic device the women in the woods had used, and they were showing it to Areto.
“You just enter the address like this.” One of the birders, a middle-aged blonde dressed in denim shorts, white tennis shoes, and a peach tank top punched something into the box. “It’s really handy when there is road construction. I used it all the way from Nashville.”
I realized then the woman had a Southern accent. As I walked toward them, she looked up and smiled.
I didn’t return the gesture.
“What’s happening?” I directed the question to Areto, who stood and took a step away from the two humans, but the woman sitting in the second chair, a brunette maybe ten years older than the blonde, answered.
“We got lost. Thea went inside to get the keys to drive us back to our car.”
Again I looked at Areto. “They couldn’t walk?”
“That wouldn’t be very polite, now would it?” Thea stood on the porch, a key chain dangling from one finger. She hadn’t changed in the few hours since I’d seen her last night, but knowing there was a possibility she had hidden the council’s plans for the baby from me, I looked at her differently.
“Why would we need to be polite?” Manners were for humans. We treated each other with respect—that was real, manners weren’t. Besides, assuming someone needed your help was an insult. I glanced at the two women. They both seemed able-bodied. There was no reason they couldn’t go the way they’d come.
I said as much to Thea.
The women looked at each other, their shock at my outspoken behavior clear.
Thea gestured for me to step to the side, out of the two humans’ hearing. Tired, confused, and not at all in the mood for a discussion, I considered ignoring her request but grudgingly moved the few feet she’d indicated.
“They wandered up a few minutes ago. They’re connected to the one Bern found.” Her voice low, Thea kept her focus on the pair still chatting mindlessly from the lawn chairs. “They said they went on a walk, looking for some bird—”
“An owl,” I interrupted, wondering when she was going to get to the part that explained why we had rolled out the welcome mat.
“An owl,” she repeated. “Apparently this owl was important to the dead woman. They wanted to get pictures of him, prove he nested here in honor of her.”
“So they came on our property and you welcomed them.” I didn’t put any judgment into the words. I thought they spoke for themselves. My last order had been to run the birders off, not pull out the lawn furniture and brew some ice tea.
“They got lost and they wound up here.” Her eyes flared. “Their friend was found dead. Apparently, the police believe the accident scenario, for now. But if we act unfriendly, that could change.”
“They bought the accident?” This was, at least, good news. “How do you know?”
Thea slanted a look toward the two women.
I let air hiss from between my lips. Fine. Maybe chatting with them a bit had its uses, but that use was over. I said as much to Thea.
She held up a ring of keys in response.
I started to object. Not being antagonistic didn’t mean we had to play chauffeur either, but I thought better of it. If Thea drove them, we’d know they were gone. I did, however, remind her of our original plan, making it clear I didn’t want the birders to think they could drop by for coffee and cake . . . or traipse around our woods, period.
The priestess didn’t reply, but as she walked off to get the birders packed up and off, I felt she’d gotten the message. I waited, thinking she’d hand off the keys to Areto or call for someone else, but she didn’t. Instead she waved the women toward a compact that belonged to Sare and took off.
Surprised by her choice, I frowned, but quickly decided it fit with my needs better anyway. As my potential lieutenant, I needed to talk to Areto. Thea’s news that the police had found the body and considered the death accidental was reassuring, but I still wanted to hear more about what had happened. Lao’s comments earlier had made me wonder a few things. I hoped talking to Areto would either reveal more or alleviate my concerns.
My call to the high council would have to wait.
I gestured to the warrior. She followed me into the kitchen. It was empty and would stay that way for a while. The farmer’s market stayed open until two, then the hearth-keepers would have to clean up and drive back here. Dinner would be late or self-serve, which meant cold something grabbed from the refrigerator. But even that was a ways off for most of the tribe.
While Areto pulled out a chair, I went to rummage in the refrigerator for a late lunch for myself. I found cold chicken and potatoes. After dumping them onto a plate, I carried it back to the table.
She watched me as I picked up a leg and bit into it. “How was your trip?”
It was a strangely polite a
nd somewhat distant question. I chewed the meat, then answered, “Fine.”
She glanced to the side.
The suspicions that Lao’s comments had created sprang to life. I took another bite of chicken, then asked, “What happened this morning?”
She sat with her back straight and her eyes facing forward, like a robot. Her posture made me realize I’d been wrong before. The length and color of her hair aside, she was nothing like Mel. There was always fire in my friend; frequently it was misdirected or not directed at all, but it was always there.
“We did as you said. We took the birder’s body to the remains of the cabin. Lao came too. She had us prop the body against an old tractor, made it look like the woman had been messing with it. Then she turned on the engine and worked the cord on her binoculars so it got caught in the belt. The cord pulled tight. We left with it still running.”
I waited for her to say something else, some opinion on moving the body, or my leaving and taking Bern, or on the birders I’d found in the front yard . . . anything, but she gave me nothing. She just waited.
Suddenly her lack of opinion, or at least inclination to keep it to herself, bothered me. Just days earlier I would have said that is what I wanted in a lieutenant, but now I wasn’t sure.
I set the chicken leg down on my plate. “Areto, what did you think about it?”
She blinked. “About what?”
“Moving the body. Making it look like she died somewhere other than where she did.”
A line deepened on her forehead. “It’s what you told us to do.”
“What if I hadn’t?”
“But you did.”
“But if I’d said to do something different? What if I’d had Bern take responsibility? Asked her to have her givnomai covered, then say she’d killed the birder. Would you have agreed with that?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Because?”
“You’re queen.”
“And that’s enough? You’ll do what I ask because I’m queen?”
Confusion and a little wariness shone from her eyes. She nodded.
“What if I wasn’t? What if the high council announced a different queen? Would you follow her too?”
Again, not so much as a breath before her reply. “Of course.”
I wiped my fingers on my shorts, thinking and not liking my own thoughts. I looked at my would-be lieutenant again. “What if I asked you to kill someone? Someone who as far as you knew had done nothing wrong, just in my opinion held the potential. Would you do that?”
There was a flicker this time and for a second I tensed, expectant.
Then, “Of course.”
Of course.
I looked at her again, hoping I’d see something that would change the sick feeling twisting in my gut, making me regret my lunch.
She sat waiting, ready to do as I said, whatever I said. But there was no fire inside her, no life.
No, she wasn’t like Mel. She was like me, a blind follower, a sheep.
Chapter 11
I put in another call to Kale before moving back out into the sunshine.
In the meantime I’d done what I could do and my bit of self-discovery didn’t seem that grim. Maybe I had been a sheep, but it didn’t mean being one hadn’t served the tribe well. Areto following my orders served the tribe well . . . it was all about the leadership. If the right Amazons were in the top positions, following them had to be okay.
So as far as the baby, I just needed to talk to someone. There was every possibility the sons were lying and had convinced Mel of those lies. When the council called back, I’d know. Until then there was no reason to stew.
With my conscience clear, I headed toward the barn. I hadn’t ridden in days and not only did the horses need exercise, I needed the peace that came with galloping across a field. I could indulge that need and work in some practice throwing spears from horseback for our upcoming performance at the state fair while waiting for my call.
As I stepped onto the gravel that separated the yard from the barn area, Thea pulled back down the drive. She parked under a big maple, hopped out, and strode toward me.
“I’ve found the child.”
The sugar cubes I’d brought for the horses fell onto the ground.
“She’s in Madison.” She placed two fingers in her mouth and blew, a move that resulted in a sharp whistle.
The warriors immediately appeared from the barn and Areto from the house. Sare, who had been sitting under a tree carving fetishes, brushed dirt off the seat of her shorts and moved toward us too.
Thea glanced at the approaching Amazons, then addressed me. “The bird son took her to your friend. Did you see them?”
My mind played back the scene in the basement like an old movie reel, jumpy and scratchy. Had I seen the baby? One looked just like another to me, but the bird son? I knew I hadn’t seen him. Of course, I had seen Jack, not at Mel’s but soon after.
I shook my head.
Areto walked up, followed closely by Sare. The warriors had already taken up a position a few feet away. I was surprised that none of them had stepped closer or lined up beside me. As it was, they could have as easily been flanking Thea as me. She had signaled for them, but, still, their choice of position was odd.
I forced myself not to look at them, not to let any sign of my confusion show. Instead, I answered Thea. “I didn’t see them, but Bern stayed behind. I can have her check it out.” Thinking we were done, I bent to pick up the sugar cubes.
“That will only alert them that we know she is there. In fact, your trip and leaving Bern there may have already endangered our success. We should go tonight.”
“And do what?” I’d picked up the cubes and held them in my loosely closed hand.
Thea glanced at the others and then back at me. “Attack, of course. Get the baby back and bring her here.”
I shook my arm, felt the cubes rattle inside my fist like beans in a maraca. “No. Not yet.” I turned toward the barn.
Thea reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop me.
I stiffened. It was instinct when anyone touched me, but in this circumstance being watched by the warriors and artisan of the camp, I particularly didn’t want to be touched, especially by Thea. I stepped to the side and spun, causing her hand to drop and bringing me back to facing her.
“There is no reason to wait.”
I could feel eyes on us, but when I glanced at the warriors their gazes dropped.
Thea stepped closer and stage-whispered in my ear, “It was one thing to run last night, to leave those here to clean up. I understand your past, that you can’t afford a second run-in with the human police so soon after your arrest last fall, but to add to the crime of losing the child by not going after her now, how can you justify that?”
Two of the warriors shifted their feet.
My fingers tightened on the treats in my hand. The cubes cut into my skin. I didn’t know where to start with her outrageous claims. That I ran? That I was denying a charge?
But I was queen. I didn’t have to explain.
Instead, I moved the cubes into my other hand and wiped the left-behind bits of sugar off my palm and onto my shorts. “How exactly did you learn where the baby is? How do we know she is there at all?” I used the feminine because Thea had. I didn’t want to alert her I might not believe everything I had been told . . . not yet.
Emotion flickered behind her eyes. Annoyance, I guessed.
“We tracked the . . . son.”
I had been feigning interest, really only concerned with reminding her I was in charge, but her response surprised me. “We?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it with a smile. “I hired someone. I know it isn’t normal, but we needed someone with experience researching.”
“A detective?” I frowned. “What did you tell this detective? What job did you give him?” I was concerned now. Amazons all had created pasts. You couldn’t live to be five hundred in the hu
man world. The fact that we did required some creative paperwork—or a complete avoidance of paperwork. Both of which a detective could easily spot.
“Not a detective . . . friends.”
“Friends? Amazons?”
“Friends to the Amazons.” She waved her hand, as if waving away any other questions. “The point is, I know where the child is, but the son could move her. We need to go tonight.”
This time I was more direct. “No.”
Her eyes flickered. “No? What about the high council?”
“I’ll talk to them.”
“I already have.”
“I’ll talk to them again.” My temper was slipping. I wasn’t used to being challenged, and despite my concern that the Amazons were becoming sheep, I didn’t like this obvious proof that Thea was not among that group—at least where following my command was concerned.
Thea pulled in a breath, a patient I can’t believe I have to say this breath. “There is no reason or time to talk to them again. We have to go tonight.”
Then as if that settled everything, she gestured to Areto, and my would-be lieutenant hurried over. I took a step back, surprised and for perhaps the first time in my life, unsure. Somewhere, somehow I had lost control.
It was, however, a momentary setback. I glanced down at the sugar cubes in my hand, staring at them blindly as my mind whirled. Unless the high council said otherwise, I was queen. Thea, no matter how she presented herself or what her magical abilities, wasn’t.
And right now I didn’t even know if the high council still existed.
I dropped the cubes on the ground. “We will do nothing until I have talked to the council.” I stared at Areto, let my gaze bore into her. It took longer than it should have, seconds when it should have been immediate, but her eyes flickered and her head dropped . . . she nodded.
Having made my point, I turned, paced back toward the house, and hoped to hell my call was returned soon.
It was, two hours later.
I answered on the third ring. I had the phone in my hand on the first ring, but I waited until two more peals had passed before pushing the button to connect. The call felt more important than it was, I told myself. It was just a call, like a thousand others I had participated in in the past.
