by L. S. O'Dea
“You don’t know that!”
“Trust me. What I have on Jackson will keep him loyal to me,” he said.
“You...you and all your secrets. You can’t control everything.” Remy started to cry. “She is coming back. Isn’t she?”
He sighed. He should have guessed. Remy was worried. He wrapped his arms around the other Producer. “I’m sure she’s fine.” He was pretty sure that she wasn’t.
“How...how can you say that?”
“I know you don’t like it, but Jackson is very good at his job. He’ll find her and bring her home.” Dead or alive, but he’d keep that part to himself.
“Really? You think so?”
“Yeah.” He patted Remy’s back.
“When did you send Jackson?”
“Not long ago.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie. Not if you considered time as a whole.
“How long ago is not long ago, and don’t you dare lie to me.” Remy pulled back.
“Yesterday, late afternoon.”
“She isn’t coming back, is she? That’s why you repaired the fence.” Remy’s eye’s filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, but...Jackson can’t find her.” He took Remy’s hand. He shouldn’t do it, but it pained him to see Remy so upset. False hope was comforting sometimes. “On the upside, if she were dead, she’d be easier to find. She may still be alive.” He wasn’t going to mention the river where her body could disappear forever.
“If she doesn’t come back, they’ll send out more Guards,” said Remy.
“That’s why I had to fix the fence. They can’t know she escaped from here.”
“I want you to be safe. Not involved in this.” Remy kissed his cheek.
“I’m going to arrange it so that you’re safe too. I promise.”
“How?” asked Remy, a spark of hope in his dark eyes.
That was a good question. Patching the fence was not going to be enough. If the Guards couldn’t catch her scent, they’d search the perimeter like Jackson had. If they didn’t find a hole, they’d look closer. It wouldn’t take them long to discover the fresh dug earth and repair that he’d made. He’d be in serious trouble for covering it up instead of reporting it. No, he was going to have to figure out something else.
The automated light approached. Hector’s section of the fence was closer to Trinity’s house than his portion. It would make sense that she’d escape near home and that was probably where they’d start the search. If he dug a hole in Hector’s area they wouldn’t even look in his. “I’m going to need some of her clothes. Something with her scent on it.”
“Why?”
“Please just trust me and do what I ask.” Remy would not want to know this.
Remy frowned, but nodded.
“I also need you to start spending your evenings with someone besides Millie. You need an alibi. I’ll talk to my brother and get him to round up some of his friends and host nightly card parties.” His brother would do it too. His brother benefited from his secrets almost as much as he did.
“What about Millie?”
He wanted to scream. He couldn’t protect everyone. Someone would pay for Trinity’s escape. “I’ll see what I can do, but this isn’t your fault. She isn’t even your real daughter.”
“It’s as much my fault as Millie’s.”
“No. She’s the one who breeds with a House Servant.”
“We don’t get to choose who we love,” said Remy.
“It is not the same thing as our feelings for each other. It isn’t. Millie could have mated with any male. She didn’t have to pick Tim.”
“Do you think this has been easy for her? She couldn’t help loving Tim any more than I can help loving you.”
He had to control his temper. Arguing with Remy never worked. He was going to have to approach this from another direction. “You’re right, but if Trinity doesn’t come back, someone will pay. I don’t believe that you both should suffer.” He held up his hand. “Wait. Hear me out.”
Remy nodded. He wanted to shout in triumph. At least the stubborn fool was listening.
“You are so good with Trinity. You were good with all the kids. Millie is the one who hasn’t conceived again. I know it’s not her fault, but it isn’t yours either.” He put his hand on Remy’s shoulder. “You are a great father and there are other kids in this camp who could use a dad.”
Remy crossed his arms over his chest. “Like who?”
His mind scrambled. He’d always considered the young females when trying to find another mate for Remy, but he should have considered the older ones. They were less enamored of the mating and birthing and more realistic about the toils of life. “Hester.”
“Hester has six kids,” said Remy.
“And another one on the way.”
“It was a real shame about her mate,” said Remy.
Yeah, a real shame that the idiot fell down the hill and broke his neck. “Yes, a terrible waste. She’s all alone now. She’ll be re-paired this year.”
Remy nodded, considering.
“It would be a tragedy if she were paired with someone who didn’t like other male’s offspring.” There were many male Producers who fell into that category.
“I’ve never understood that. Kids are great no matter who their parents are,” said Remy, shaking his head.
“Very few feel that way.” It was one of the things that he loved most about Remy. His life would have been very different if he’d had even one parent who had loved him even though he was different.
Remy’s silence encouraged him, but he had to move slowly. If he pushed too hard, Remy would balk. “I think I could get them to re-pair you with Hester.” Actually, this would be perfect. He wanted to grin, but fought the urge. Hester’s oldest son was breeding with Trunk’s assigned mate. Trunk was a huge brute of a Producer. He was the exception to the rule that Producers were passive creatures. Trunk would kill the boy for messing with his mate. Yes, Hester would keep their secret. Now, all he had to do was convince Remy. “Her kids need you.”
Remy scratched his head. “Trinity might come back.”
“Of course, but Millie will be retired this year.”
“Yeah. We’ve discussed it. She’s okay with me getting re-paired.”
Who cared if she was okay with it? He’d never understand Remy. “Great. I’ll talk to my brother. Every night, starting tomorrow, until either Trinity comes back or the others find out that she’s missing, you are to play cards at my brother’s house all evening long.”
“Okay,” sighed Remy.
Everything was working out better than he’d planned. He’d never even considered Hester before. Maybe, he should thank Trinity. He always performed better under stress.
“I’ll bring her pajamas. Millie hasn’t washed them,” said Remy.
“No. Leave them in her room, near the window so that I can grab them when I’m ready.” He needed as much of her scent on them as possible. Tomorrow, he’d talk to his brother and in the evening he would make a hole under Hector’s fence. The next night he’d start trying to catch Clarabelle mating with Randy as leverage to persuade Bell to help get Remy re-paired. Once that was all settled, he’d leave the scent trail from Trinity’s house to the hole in Hector’s fence line and report her missing to the Almightys.
He kissed Remy. Since the other Producer was already here, there was no point in wasting the night and he was definitely in the mood for company. Successful plotting always did that to him.
CHAPTER 8
TRINITY AWOKE WITH A CRICK IN HER neck and a frozen nose. She pulled the blanket up over her head and paused. Her blanket wasn’t that big. She peeked out from under the cover. Gaar’s cloak was tucked around her. She smiled and turned to thank him but he wasn’t there. She shoved the covers down and gazed down to the forest floor. There he was, moving some items from his backpack to hers. She breathed a sigh of relief. For all her talk, she didn’t want to be alone out here.
“Come down. We need to g
et moving,” he said without looking up.
She untied the rope and then folded his cape and her blanket, tossing all three items over her shoulder before climbing down to the lowest branch and dropping from the tree. Her legs buckled on her landing. She’d worked hard all her life in the fields but that was nothing compared to her lessons yesterday. “Thanks for letting me borrow your cloak,” she said, handing it to him
He grunted and slipped it on over his wide shoulders. He tossed her a backpack and slung the larger one and his quiver onto his back. She opened the sack and stuffed her blanket and rope inside next to her canteen, bread and dried fruit. He was letting her carry some of the food. Hopefully, this meant her lessons were over.
They traveled for several hours, changing directions so many times that she was completely lost. Gaar was grumpy and in no mood for her constant questions, so she gave up and tried to figure out where they were.
“You stay here,” he said, stopping near a large tree.
“Alone?” Was he kidding?
“Don’t get any bright ideas about going home. Mirra will be here soon and if she doesn’t find you, she will hunt you down.” He leaned toward her. “Trust me. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of an angry Tracker.”
He wasn’t joking. He was leaving. He must have misread the concern on her face for he softened his tone.
“She wouldn’t hurt you, but”—he shrugged—“I can’t say the same about your friends and family.”
“Why can’t I go with you?”
“It’s better if no one sees us together. You’ll be safe here. The predators don’t come this close to town and the Almightys consider the area cursed.”
That last part did not make her feel better. “Why? What’s wrong with this place?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. I never had any problems around here. One of their superstitions, I suppose.”
“Oh.” His lack of information was not comforting. “Are you sure I’ll...”
“You’ll be fine. Just stay in this tree until Mirra finds you. I’ll be back in a day or two.” He turned and walked away.
She glanced up at the tree. It was huge, but she could climb it. She smiled. She wouldn’t have thought so yesterday. She turned back to tell him goodbye but he was gone. It had only been a couple of seconds. Where did he go? She moved to get a better view through the brush, but it was like he faded into the bushes. If he could disappear like that, could something appear that quickly?
She stumbled back to the tree and climbed it, finding a wide, thick branch high off the ground. She’d sleep here tonight. She practiced her listening skills for a while and then watched a couple of squirrels playing overhead. They moved on to a nearby tree and she sighed. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. What was she going to do now? Well, she was at the Lake of Sins. She should get a look at this evil place. She climbed as high as she could and still be able to go out on a branch for a better view of the area.
The sun sent tiny droplets of moisture sparkling across the water. There were white statues around the lake and one on the small island that sat toward the center of the water. She couldn’t quite make out the details of the sculptures since the brush around the lake was dense, but it was beautiful, magical. Why would the Almightys avoid this place? She needed a closer look. She repositioned herself in the tree several times but could not get a better view. She scooted back and leaned against the trunk. It was going to be a long day.
She dug in her backpack and pulled out her canteen and a small chunk of Gaar’s bread. She broke off a piece and tossed it in her mouth. She placed the rest of the loaf on her knee while she uncapped her water bottle. She was just getting ready to take a drink when the bread slid off her leg. She caught it but she leaned too far and started to fall. As she grabbed ahold of the branch, her canteen slipped from her fingers. She shifted to regain her balance but it was too late. Her water bottle was on the ground. She stuffed the bread in her pack and climbed down the tree.
She picked up the canteen. It was almost empty. Now, she was going to have to find water. There was no way she could eat Gaar’s bread without it. She put the bottle back in her pack and climbed the tree again. She should’ve let the bread fall. The ground might have gotten dented, but the bread would’ve been fine.
She sat on a limb for a long time, studying the area. Nothing moved near the lake except birds. She touched the knife at her side. She’d be fine. Gaar said it was safe here and she’d be alert and cautious just like he taught her. She should go now. It was better to do this in the daylight than later tonight. She shimmied down the tree.
There were paths that led to the lake. Most were overgrown with vegetation and barely visible, but some were still fighting the battle against the encroaching forest. She avoided the trails, traveling through the bushes and pausing often to listen. When she was sure it was safe, she stepped into the clearing surrounding the lake. She stopped on a hill a few feet from the water. The lake was brackish. She wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to drink the briny stuff. She’d explore to see if she could find fresh water or fruit.
She spent over an hour walking less than halfway around the lake. It had been a complete waste of time. The only things in the area were the statues and up close they weren’t pretty. They were disturbing. There was one of a winged man, another of a woman with long, spindly legs, and several of children with snouts and claws. Almost every one of them was in a transition between Almighty and something else and none of the subjects looked happy about what they were becoming.
She flopped down on the grass near the lake. Her stomach rumbled. She ate a couple of pieces of dried fruit. She had no choice; she was going to have to get water from the lake. In order to make sure that it was safe to drink she had to either boil it or find a deep area that was circulating. Boiling would be best but she didn’t know how to start a fire without flint which meant she was going to have to enter the lake. She took a deep breath, stood and walked down the incline to the shoreline.
Dragonflies flitted across the surface. It was calm and serene on the top but there could be River-Men lurking below. The one she’d helped had been in the Elavital but the river fed into the lake. Plus, he wasn’t the only one of his kind. She didn’t want to encounter them anywhere, least of all in their environment. Maybe, if she had a weapon, like a spear. That was it! She didn’t have to go into water. She turned and hurried back into the forest.
After she found a piece of wood that was long enough but not too heavy for her, she went back to the lake and slid the strap of the canteen over the stick, wrapping it around several times so that it was unlikely to come loose. She uncapped the lid and then stretched the branch out over the water. It didn’t reach as far as she’d like, but it would have to do. She wasn’t going to wade into the lake. She lowered the branch and at first the bottle floated on top, but eventually, it dipped a little and began to fill. It was a slow process and her arms and back ached from the strain of holding it in place.
A twig snapped behind her. Something was in the brush. She began to pull the stick back. Then there was a squeak followed by a rustle in the bushes. Whatever was coming, it was heading her way. She could get water later. She dropped the branch, but she hadn’t pulled it far enough out of the lake. The half-full canteen dipped, filling with water and sinking. She needed her bottle. There was another squeak, closer this time. She had to go. Now. She would figure out the water situation later. She raced back into the forest. When she was concealed in the bushes, she stopped and glanced around. Nothing was following. She scurried up the nearest tree.
The rhythmic squeaking continued, growing louder. She crouched on a limb hidden in the leaves. An Almighty appeared on one of the clearer paths. He was in a chair with wheels. He maneuvered along, using his hands to turn the wheels. He stopped several feet away from her. He was young, only a few years older than her. He was slender with black hair and the bluish-white complexion of the Almightys, but his hairless skin had a golden underton
e like he had been kissed by the sun. He was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen.
He pulled a book out of the backpack hooked to his chair and began to read. She waited. He was engrossed in the story and wasn’t going anywhere soon, so neither was she. She hung her pack on a limb and stretched out along the branch. It was rumored that the Almightys were hairless except for their heads, unlike the other classes who all had a soft coating of hair covering their bodies. His arms and face were hairless, but what about the rest of him? She blushed and stared up at the sky. It was none of her business what he looked like without his shirt.
The bright sunlight filtered through the foliage, leaving her in mottled sunshine. As he read, she started to doze. A slight splash made her sit up. In the water, not far from the shoreline, the River-Man emerged. He floated with only the top of his head to his eyes visible. She glanced at the boy, but he must not have heard the noise because he hadn’t moved. She leaned against the trunk of the tree. There was no way she was going in that lake to retrieve her canteen. She’d starve first.
After a while, the Almighty put down the book and took something out of his pack. It was square and white. It looked like food of some sort. He pulled off the outer edges and threw them toward the lake. He missed. He wheeled the chair closer and tossed the rest of the pieces into the water.
The River-Man slid under the surface and reappeared closer to the boy.
She should warn him but she couldn’t. He was an Almighty. She bit her lip and scooted forward on the branch. Gaar said that the River-Men snatched creatures from the land and pulled them into the water. Was the boy close enough for the creature to get him?
He started to wheel the chair backward.
She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Moving away from the lake was a good idea.
He looked down. She followed his gaze. The first part of the food that he’d thrown lay on the ground.
She shifted forward a bit more. Just leave it alone.
