Copper Veins

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  “Your chip?” I prompted.

  “In my bunk at the base.”

  “Your mother?”

  “A weather witch from the Otherworld,” he replied. “I never really knew her. She always had her maids take care of me.”

  “Huh,” Max said, rubbing his chin. “So that was the scandal with Jorge and his wife.”

  Jerome dropped his eyes. “Yeah. She was pretty surprised when Dad introduced her to me.” Since we were all staring at Jerome, he continued. “My father didn’t meet me until I was seven, when my mother appeared at his door and told him that since she’d taken care of me for the first seven years, the next seven were all his. Dad was happy to have a son, but his wife hated me from the start.”

  We were silent for a moment, the three of us staring at the Inheritor of Air’s wrong-side-of-the-blanket son. Thankfully, Max was still working out his plans.

  “All right,” Max began. “Let’s assume we believe your sob story. This place is still a trap, and we need to leave, the sooner the better. Think the truck’s still there?”

  He shook his head. “Not enough gas left,” he replied. “If we’re going, we should hoof it. My headquarters is a few days’ walk from here.”

  We located some packs and raided the cave for useful supplies—flashlights, food and water, matches, and camping gear. We even found a few sets of socks and jackets, and a pair of slightly worn boots for Max. As Jerome and Max filled the canteens, Sadie and I divided up the food into four equal piles. After Max had drunk his jerky-cherry soup and made a few comments about my cooking being even worse than Mom’s, we set out.

  Night was falling as we trudged into the trees. Max led the way in his new-to-him boots, following directions that Jerome had hastily sketched rather than one of the Peacekeeper-tainted maps. Before we left the cave, Max had whispered to me and Sadie that we should listen for road noise so we could use the mile markers to check Jerome’s map. Jerome brought up the rear of our pathetic parade and kept to himself.

  “Can you feel anything yet?” Sadie asked me after we’d walked for a while.

  I reached out with my ability and felt the tug of something metallic, though it remained out of my reach. “A bit. I don’t know if I still have a lot of the drugs left in me, or if there just isn’t much metal around.”

  She nodded. “Me, too. I never thought I’d miss it so much.”

  Before I could agree, Max called out, “Ladies and gent, we have a road.”

  Cautiously, we stepped out of the trees and onto the pavement. The road stretched on into the darkness and appeared deserted. “Any idea where we are?” I asked.

  “Nope,” Max replied. “Should be a mile marker coming up soon, though.”

  I nodded, and soon enough we came upon a marker. Max read the marker and consulted Jerome’s directions, then he gave the barest of nods. While it didn’t prove that Jerome was on our side, at least this part of his story checked out.

  We stopped for a few minutes, enjoying a snack of dried apricots, then we moved on. We followed the road, keeping to the shoulder and diving into the woods whenever we heard vehicles approaching. Luckily, traffic was pretty sparse on this stretch of road. Or maybe that was unlucky, who knew?

  As we walked on, I kept my eyes peeled for oaks among the trees. There wasn’t a single one.

  The four of us walked until sunrise, slept during the day, and resumed walking at dusk. Shortly before sunrise on our second day of walking, Jerome beckoned us toward what looked like a snarl of brambles.

  “Trust me, this is the way,” he whispered. I was at the end of my rope when it came to trusting him, but when we got closer I noticed that a path snaked between the brambles. We followed him between the thorny bushes—a few steps later, we found ourselves at the edge of a clearing. In the dim light we could just make out a few tents and the dying embers of campfires. There wasn’t a permanent structure anywhere in view, unless you counted the trees. I didn’t.

  “Here we are,” Jerome announced with a sweep of his hand.

  “And we are where?” Max drawled. He was using the same technique I did—attempting to sound all badass and confident when in reality he didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on. “I thought we were going to resistance headquarters.”

  “This is resistance headquarters,” Jerome replied.

  17

  I glanced between the few tents in the clearing and Jerome. “Seriously?”

  “Yep,” he said, proud. He led us through the trees and toward the clearing. We saw a few bored sentries lurking in the underbrush, and I couldn’t tell if they weren’t intercepting us because they recognized Jerome or they just didn’t care. One appeared to be sleeping.

  Resistance headquarters left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed. A few once-white tents formed a loose circle around the perimeter. In the center of the tents was an open space, and in addition to campfires I saw a brick hearth—okay, so there was one permanent structure. People wandered to and fro, going about day-to-day tasks and seeing to chores like cooking and laundry. The only weapon I saw was a knife being used to slice bread. All in all, this was a rather domestic resistance.

  “This is your headquarters?” I repeated. “Resistance headquarters.”

  “Heart of the operation,” Jerome replied.

  Good gods, we were doomed. “Who is in charge here?” I asked.

  “This way,” Jerome said. I wondered if he’d sussed out from my tone that I was unimpressed. “I’ll introduce you to Lopez.”

  Despite our doubts, we followed Jerome, probably because that was all we had been doing since he’d sprung us. As we stepped into the clearing I felt a sharp crack, like static electricity—at least they had some kind of surveillance going on. He led us to the largest tent, then motioned for us to wait while he entered alone—we heard hushed tones as he spoke with whomever was inside. A moment later, Jerome darted out from under the flap, then held it aside for us. Max took the lead, and Sadie and I followed him into the tent.

  A short Hispanic man stood behind a folding table, playing solitaire. For a moment I wondered why he looked familiar, then I recognized him as the radical Mirlander that had spoken at the political rally Max and I attended a month or so back—he’d even gotten pelted with a few vegetables. I remembered what he’d said to Max and me while we were in the crush of the crowd—that Mike Armstrong wanted to create an army of human soldiers with Elemental attributes—and how he had admonished us to learn our history. I wondered what Lopez thought we were supposed to know.

  “Welcome, Corbeaus,” Lopez said, dropping the cards as he stepped around the table. “Please, sit and rest. We have much to discuss.”

  “Are you an Elemental?” I asked. Sadie glared at me, surprised by my rude question. I’d tell her later how Max and I had seen Lopez pretending to be a politician at Mike Armstrong’s rally.

  Lopez narrowed his eyes, but his reply was polite. “Yes, I am an Elemental. I take it you remember me?”

  “Yeah, we do,” Max said. “So, if this is the almighty resistance, where’s my father?”

  Lopez cleared his throat, then he replied, “Commander Corbeau is not here at the moment. He was, but he moved on three days ago.”

  Three days ago. That meant that Dad had slipped from the Peacekeepers’ grasp shortly after he’d been captured, stopped by this glorified scout camp, and was now long gone to parts unknown. I hoped that he’d gone on to the Whispering Dell and given Micah and Mom a few leads as to where we were. But where was Dad now? And why had he sent Jerome to rescue us instead of getting us himself?

  “The commander did tell us to expect you,” Lopez continued, turning back to the table and selecting a manila folder from the many papers scattered across the surface. He held the folder out to me, “He left these instructions for the Inheritor.”

  I shook my head. “Sadie’s the reader of the group,” I said, jerking my chin toward my sister.

  “My apologies,” Lopez murmured, then he extended
his arm toward Sadie. “Please. Your father wanted you to read this.”

  The four of us stared at Sadie while she made up her mind. Finally, she sighed and accepted the folder. “These are schematics,” she murmured after riffling through the papers. “Schematics for the Peacekeepers’ main operation in Capitol City.”

  Max peeked over Sadie’s shoulder, then he grabbed a sheet of paper to study it more closely. “Are you guys seriously thinking of mounting an attack against the Peacekeepers where they’re strongest?”

  Lopez bristled, but he kept his tone even. “Commander Corbeau made it clear that the Inheritor would be fully capable of executing this mission.”

  “Oh, I’m capable of quite a few things,” Sadie muttered as she thrust the folder at me. I flipped through it and noted the plan was to decimate the military branch of the government with nothing more than some assorted Elementals, one Inheritor, and a few dozen resistance members.

  “This is not Dad’s work,” Max hissed in my ear, his back turned to Jerome and Lopez. “He’s cautious, not suicidal.”

  I nodded, pretending to look over the plans. “Exactly how many members of this camp are Elementals?” I asked.

  “Fourteen,” Lopez replied, his eyes darting between myself and Sadie. “Seven metal, two water, three earth, and two air.”

  “What sort of metal?” I pressed.

  “Copper,” Lopez replied. “We are all of copper.” Brows drawn low over his eyes, he asked, “Forgive me, but which of you is the Inheritor?”

  My shock at finally encountering another copper Elemental was quickly snuffed by Lopez’s inquiry. Sadie and I looked at Max, both of us silently asking if he’d like to be in charge. “Nah,” Max said, shaking his head. “Everyone who matters knows I’m just a copper man. You need to step up, kid,” he added with a nod toward Sadie.

  Sadie swallowed hard and said, “I’m the Inheritor of Metal.” When Lopez gaped, she added, “At your service,” punctuated by a yawn.

  Lopez blinked, then he composed himself. “Yes, yes,” he murmured, then he swept his arm to the left. “Forgive me my manners, you must be exhausted from your ordeal. Our accommodations are rough, but please avail yourselves of all we have to offer.”

  I followed Lopez’s outstretched arm and saw a couple cots lined up against the tent wall. I didn’t know if he meant for us to sit or sleep, but at that moment I didn’t care. I plunked the manila folder on the table and claimed a cot—a moment later, Sadie scooted in beside me. As we pulled the rough green blanket up to our chins, I heard Lopez asking someone to fetch us a meal. Little did he know we only wanted to sleep.

  18

  When I woke I had no idea where I was, only that I was no longer exhausted. Apparently these resistance folks had decided to let the three of us sleep off our recent captivity and drugging. At least, I guessed they’d left us alone—I hoped either Sadie or Max had had the sense to keep watch.

  I rolled over, noticing only then that the cot I’d been lying on was about as comfortable as broken pavement, and saw that Sadie was already awake. “I really need to pee, but I am not going out there alone,” Sadie declared.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I mumbled. I looked at the other cot and saw that Max was still sleeping. Thankfully, Jerome was nowhere in sight. “Do you know where the facilities are?”

  Sadie wrinkled her nose. “There are no facilities.”

  My own nose wrinkled in solidarity. “Well, it has to be better than the bucket we had at the prison. And we have blankets,” I said, holding up the threadbare fabric.

  Sadie grimaced. “Good point.”

  With that, we exited the tent, blinking in the bright sunlight. After taking care of business as quickly as possible, we returned and found Max sitting up and yawning.

  “Any idea if we can get a shower?” he asked as he stretched.

  “I’m thinking that’s not too likely,” I replied. “This resistance seems to have amenities right out of the Stone Age.”

  Max grunted, then he raked his hand through his hair. “We alone?”

  I shrugged. “As far as I can tell.” Which meant “beware the possible listening devices.”

  Max nodded and continued, “Have either of you gotten the impression that this operation might not be up to big-league potential?”

  I looked to Sadie, who gave the barest of nods. If this resistance was as strong as Dad and Jerome had said, why were they living in the woods like animals? I hadn’t seen a single piece of technology, unless you counted the kerosene lantern perched on Lopez’s desk, and I didn’t. In my book, technology involved wires and plastic and microchips, not a fuel source that had been discovered ages ago.

  “Maybe they have more camps,” Sadie ventured. “Maybe this one is off the grid so people can hide, like Jerome said about the cave.”

  The cave that was probably a trap. I didn’t speak my thoughts aloud, but based on Max’s expression he was thinking the same thing. Before I could suggest that we get out of there ASAP, Lopez himself strode into our tent. Following him was a tall woman with blazing gold eyes, dark hair, and features reminiscent of Mediterranean Europe.

  “I’m glad to find you all awake,” Lopez said, his form silhouetted against the sunlight. I guessed it was close to noon, which meant that we’d slept for eight or nine hours on something reminiscent of a bed. That was the best thing that had happened since we’d decided to take that stupid trip to Moose Lake. “Allow me to introduce my right hand, Aregonda.”

  The woman—Aregonda—inclined her head, and the three of us did likewise. After a not-at-all awkward pause, Aregonda stepped forward and addressed Sadie. “We are very, very happy that you have found us, Inheritor,” she declared. “Please, let us know how we can assist your cause.”

  Sadie blinked and scooted back on the cot. “I—I don’t have a cause. I just want to get back to the Otherworld.”

  Aregonda’s forehead wrinkled. “The Otherworld? But you are needed here, Inheritor. Others of copper—”

  “Are you of copper?” I interrupted.

  Aregonda frowned, but answered, “I am, though I have other talents as well.”

  And here I’d thought I was the only Elemental who dyed her hair. “Any idea why others of copper have been sending gifts to the Whispering Dell?” I pressed.

  “To show our allegiance,” Aregonda replied.

  “Allegiance to whom?”

  Aregonda’s frown deepened. “Why, to the Inheritor. Who else would we ally ourselves with?”

  “Oy,” Sadie muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Can’t someone convince these people that I don’t lead anything?”

  “But you were born to lead,” Aregonda said, nonplussed by Sadie’s rejection. “We sent the evidence to you as proof.”

  “Evidence?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Aregonda replied. “We sent the scroll that details Sadie’s lineage directly to your home in the Otherworld.”

  “But that would be the scroll everyone in the Otherworld has been searching for,” I said.

  Aregonda and Lopez both nodded, and my mind traveled to the heaps of gifts in the manor’s atrium. The gifts were mostly of copper, as was fitting for the copper Inheritor of Metal, but there were a few books and scrolls mixed in. And I happened to remember one ornate scroll that held the family lineage of some folks with unpronounceable French names.

  Great. We Corbeaus just happened to be descended from some folks with unpronounceable French names.

  “The scroll is at the manor,” I said, dropping my head into my hands as I rubbed my temples.

  “What?” Max and Sadie demanded in unison.

  “When we started getting all those stupid gifts that were meant to show support,” I began, jerking my chin toward Lopez and Aregonda, “I found some books and scrolls mixed in with the rest. One of the scrolls is ridiculously ornate with these funky endcaps and everything. When I unrolled it a bit, it was a family tree for some ancient French line.”

  “And you’re tell
ing us this just now, because?” Max asked.

  “Because until now I thought it was just someone’s family tree, not potentially our family tree,” I snapped, then I glared at Aregonda. “A note of explanation would have been appreciated.”

  She shrugged. “We assumed you would read it, and thus understand its purpose.”

  I fixed Aregonda in my gaze and called up Mom’s attitude. “At the manor, we have received hundreds, maybe thousands, of gifts over the past few months. Some were Beltane offerings, some were wedding gifts, and some were supporting Sadie as a leader. Many of them were books and scrolls, being that people across the Otherworld are well aware of Sadie’s desire to establish a library. Had you considered that perhaps the scroll you sent wasn’t the only scroll we’d receive, and included a description of its contents, it likely would have been read.”

  Aregonda blinked and squared her shoulders; Lopez just looked pissed. Whatever. I could care less about what either of them thought. I just wanted to find Dad and get the hell out of this world. Our staring contest was interrupted by Max.

  “Any coffee around here?” Max asked. “Or some kind of lunch?”

  Aregonda turned to Max and blinked, which was apparently her all-purpose response. “Of course,” she murmured. “Please, follow me.”

  We followed Aregonda toward the cooking fires in the middle of the clearing. Now that I was looking at the area in full daylight, I saw that in addition to the campfires and stone hearth there was a barbeque pit, topped with something that looked like a roasting spit. After she’d bustled about for a bit, Aregonda delivered us tin cups of coffee and plates of still-warm bread and sausages. After we’d had a few sips, Jerome appeared.

  “Morning,” he greeted. He wasn’t wearing his Peacekeeper uniform, but a pair of faded jeans, black work boots, and a black knit shirt. His dark hair was damp and curling around his ears, making me wonder, rather jealously, if he’d taken a dip in a nearby stream. I never thought I’d miss the Clear Pool quite so much. “How’s the coffee?”