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Stranger Page 13

by Rachel Manija Brown


  Z stomped back into the classroom, and Dee stomped outside. Jennie cast a rueful look at Ross. He thought she was doing a good job of being fair, though it was clear Dee didn’t agree.

  Armor buckled on, he went to help Mia with her flamethrower, tucking an oil canister under his arm. “I didn’t know Jennie had family in the school.”

  “She’s got lots. Two younger brothers and a younger sister, and another sister too young for school.”

  “From the same mother?” Ross had never heard of someone having five children before. A woman was lucky to have three.

  Mia nodded. “Amazing, isn’t it? But the Rileys are different. They’re almost all Changed. They never get big powerful Changes, but they always get useful ones, without any nasty side effects. Riley men father lots of healthy children, and the women in Mrs. Riley’s family are all fertile and never die in childbirth.”

  Mia glanced down, and Ross remembered how her mother had died. He had the impulse to comfort her somehow, and reached out to touch her shoulder. Then she raised her chin, and he jerked his hand back.

  “I’m not done with Jennie’s family,” she said, the cheer back in her voice. “She also has three foster sibs. And me.”

  “What? You two are related?”

  Mia laughed. “Not by blood. Her father’s ex-wife is my mother’s sister. I guess you’d call us half-stepcousins.”

  “How can you keep track of all that?”

  Mia looked surprised. “It’s not hard remembering important stuff. What’s more important than family?”

  Everyone in Las Anclas was always talking about family—what their mother thought, what their grandfather always said, what they had to make sure their sister knew. The thought of a whole bunch of people knowing everything about him made Ross feel like he was in a tunnel with the walls closing in. But here, it seemed to make people feel cozy.

  Experimentally, he thought to himself, My grandmother used to say . . .

  It took a moment, but he found a memory. They had been sitting at a campfire, making tortillas. “Make the dough into a ball the size of a plum,” she’d said.

  He’d asked, “What’s a plum?”

  He hadn’t noticed then, but now he thought that his question had made her sad. She’d reached out and closed his chubby kid fingers. “Make it into a ball the size of your fist.”

  He couldn’t remember anything more.

  “Ross?” Mia said. “The stables are—”

  A gray rat the size of a terrier came scuttling up—a rat, in broad daylight! It was going straight for Mia.

  “Rat!” Ross yelled, dropping the oil canister and grabbing his knife. Before he could make the throw, someone slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground. The knife skittered across the dirt.

  “She’s my rat,” Yuki snapped, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Ross rose on his elbows, blinking against dizziness. The rat was winding in and out of Mia’s ankles, like a cat.

  “Yuki? Ross? What happened?” Mia asked, stooping to pet it.

  “Come.” At Yuki’s call, the rat turned with trained precision and ran to Yuki, who scooped it up and cradled it against his chest. Then he turned to Ross, making an effort to control his anger and explain. “We breed working rats here. This is Kogatana.” He traced a symbol in the air, then stopped, as if he hadn’t meant to do it. “She usually doesn’t come with me to school, but we’re going on patrol. She’ll ride with me in case we need her to scout.”

  His face burning, Ross scooped up the canister and hastily followed Mia to the stables. So rats here were working animals, not vermin. Yet another thing Ross hadn’t known—another way for him to make a fool of himself in front of everybody.

  At the stables, he had yet another unpleasant surprise: horses. The ones in Las Anclas had been cross-bred with deer. They were small and slender, and half of them had antlers. The animals moved restlessly, unlike his burro Rusty. Ross hoped he was all right. Surely even Voske wouldn’t harm a good working animal.

  He lowered his voice. “I don’t know if I can ride these.”

  “Sure you can,” said Mia. “You’ve ridden something, right?”

  “My burro, when I was a kid.”

  “Think of them as burros with antlers. Grip with your thighs. Walk the horse like it’s your legs. When you want to go faster, move your hips like you’re running, and the horse will run. Like the burro, right?” Ross nodded doubtfully. “Great!” Mia ran off toward Jennie.

  Yuki stepped forward, still clutching his rat protectively. “You don’t know how to ride?”

  Ross’s ears burned. “Of course I do.”

  The tall boy’s eyebrows shot upward. Then, without a word, he shook his head and walked away.

  Henry indicated a speckled gray horse. “How about Old Betsy? If you don’t mind going slow. See how gray her coat’s gone? She’s getting up there.”

  “Slow is fine,” said Ross, relieved. At least Old Betsy didn’t have antlers to jab him.

  He glanced around, hoping Mia or Jennie would come back. Yuki was staring at him. Ross watched some students load their weapons and mount up. He copied them. Mounting was harder than it looked.

  Old Betsy sidled under him, muscles quivering. Ross grimaced. Rusty hadn’t bounced around, and he’d been much lower to the ground. And it had been years since Ross had been small enough to ride him; he’d mostly used the burro to carry his packs.

  The left rein kept sliding out of Ross’s hand, so he was forced to use his right hand for both. The horse seemed to dislike that. She bobbed her head and shifted her rear end back and forth, like she wished she could shake him off.

  “Everyone ready?” Jennie called. “Ride out!”

  The horses headed for the main gate, except for Old Betsy. She whipped around, mane flying, and trotted determinedly toward a large saguaro. Ross clutched at the reins, then pulled, but she put her head down and sped up.

  “Whoa! Stop!” Ross yelled.

  Old Betsy stopped. But first she scraped Ross against the saguaro, and tumbled him to the ground with spines stuck all along his right side.

  15

  YUKI

  FROM HIS PERCH ON HIS HORSE, YUKI WATCHED ROSS pick himself up. He was immediately swarmed by teenage girls, pulling out cactus spines and commiserating. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the attention.

  Yuki ticked off what he knew about Ross Juarez: He’d been dragged into town half-dead, which didn’t speak highly of his survival skills. He’d warned Sheriff Crow of pursuit, which might mean he had some honor, or might just mean he had been sunstruck and delirious. He fought brilliantly, even with one hand. He knew nothing about horses and couldn’t ride. It was like a handful of puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together.

  Jennie rode up to Yuki and Paco. “How did Ross get Reckless, Yuki? I thought you were going to give him a training horse.”

  “It was one of Henry’s pranks.”

  Jennie frowned. “And you didn’t stop him?”

  “He was going to kill Kogatana.”

  Paco leaned out and petted the rat, who nibbled delicately at his fingers. “Wild rats will creep up while you’re sleeping and rip your throat out. He didn’t realize she was tame.” Then he gave Yuki a look as if he could see right through him. “It isn’t Ross’s fault that he had chances you never got. Don’t take it out on him.”

  Yuki felt exposed. “Jennie, are you letting him patrol? He doesn’t know how to ride.”

  Jennie gave Ross a quick, searching glance, then faced Yuki. “Yes, I am. You’ve seen how he fights. He’ll be fine as long as he isn’t on Reckless. Switch horses. And you and Henry can both clean out the stables tonight.”

  Reluctantly, Yuki rode over to Ross. “Here, take Fuego. He won’t give you any trouble.” As he handed ove
r the reins, the red-gold gelding gave what Yuki could swear was a disappointed look. “Sorry,” he muttered to the horse.

  Reckless had her ears laid back, clearly in a terrible temper, but he stroked her until she was calm enough to mount.

  “You all right, Ross?” Jennie called.

  “Isn’t the first time a plant’s gone after me.” Ross jerked a last cactus spine from his shoulder, then awkwardly hauled himself into the saddle.

  Jennie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Form up! By twos. Listen up! The watch captain has gotten reports that someone, or something, is raiding crops. It might not be as harmless as raccoons, so keep alert.”

  “A tomato eater,” said Brisa to Becky, knotting up an unraveling blue ribbon. “That’s terrifying.”

  Becky let out an unexpectedly loud giggle, then ducked her head.

  The line rode out, Yuki taking up his usual position at the rear. Outside the walls, he could see clear to the horizon line, but that taste of freedom had a bitter tinge. He felt like a stallion penned up in a corral. A horse bred in captivity wouldn’t mind the fence, but a wild horse, born in the desert, would never stop longing for its true home.

  Still, he was only a few months away from graduation, when he’d become a legal adult. Then, he could leave, with or without a guide.

  Yuki thought about how Paco had encouraged him to strike out on his own. Everyone said prospecting was far too dangerous without proper training, but someone must have been the first prospector. He’d already taught himself as much as he could in Las Anclas. Like a taunt, the ruins of an untouched city were barely a day’s ride away from Las Anclas—but they were ringed by an impassable band of singing trees.

  Ross was his age, and somehow he’d become a real prospector, making his way through dangerous wilderness and tunneling into ancient ruins. So why not Yuki?

  Meredith, Brisa, and Becky dropped back to ride with him, peering at the fields to the south.

  “Looks like we’ll be picking corn soon,” Brisa was saying to Meredith. “Boring! Unless we get attacked by bandits. That would be cool. It’s been forever since we’ve been attacked by anything. Except boredom.” She grinned at him. “Hey, Prince—oops. Yuki, aren’t you bored?”

  Yuki shrugged. “No more than usual.”

  Brisa laughed, and she and Becky trotted ahead. Brisa’s clear voice carried back. “I owe you for stitching my hand. Shall I knit you a pair of socks? I have some nice orange and gray yarn, like a sunset.”

  He couldn’t hear Becky’s reply, just a pause and then Brisa saying with a giggle, “No, of course not! I’m just accident-prone. But seeing you is a bonus.”

  Meredith rode in closer. “You know Mr. Preston and Mayor Wolfe might get the council to kick Ross out, just to spite Sheriff Crow. If you want to find out what it’s like where he came from, now might be the time to ask.”

  Yuki hesitated. He could ask, but how could he know whether Ross was telling the truth? His sister said coaxingly, as if she were offering him a gift, “If he came from the south, he could tell you about the Saigon Alliance. And if he came from the east, then maybe Voske’s kingdom isn’t as tough as everyone says.”

  “Maybe later.” At the very least, he wouldn’t approach Ross in front of all the same people who had witnessed how Alvarez had tricked him.

  Henry pulled out a slingshot. “Want me to get his attention? Bet I can make him fall off again.”

  Meredith rolled her eyes. “Idiot. Let me do this.” She trotted up the line. Yuki heard her voice clearly in the still air. “Hey, Ross. You came from the south, didn’t you?”

  “East.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Hot.”

  “Everywhere is hot. What else is it like? Any good prospecting?”

  “No.”

  “What’s Voske’s territory like?” asked Meredith. “Is it true about the heads?”

  Yuki barely heard Ross’s “Yeah.”

  “Well, what’s past his kingdom? Anything worth the risk of getting your head on a pole?”

  That seemed to annoy Ross enough to provoke entire sentences. “What you have here in Las Anclas is as good as it gets. Who cares what it’s like anywhere else?”

  “That’s strange coming from a prospector,” Meredith retorted. “There’s nothing to prospect here—at least, nothing you can get at.”

  She rode back, but didn’t bother to lower her voice as she said to Brisa, “Okay, I’m officially uninterested. Ross is hot, but I’ve already got one sulky prospector at home.” She shouted, “Hey, everyone—let’s go to Luc’s when we get back. Paco’s drumming tonight.”

  “I’m in,” Yolanda said, and others echoed her. The bristly-haired girl stretched out her hand, calling up a breeze to cool her sweaty face.

  “Some for me, please?” asked Meredith. Yolanda obligingly sent the wind to ruffle her coppery curls.

  Yuki shot a glance at Paco, and caught him grinning. Was he thinking about their date after the show?

  “What’s so funny?” Henry asked.

  “Nothing,” Yuki and Paco spoke simultaneously, and Paco laughed.

  Dee Riley and Nhi Tran reined in and leaped off their horses. Squealing, they pointed at a ball of white fur with huge, wistful blue eyes. “What is that?” Dee cried. “It’s so darling!”

  “Watch this!” Henry hefted his slingshot and expertly let loose a pebble, which struck the furball straight on. It let out a pathetic squeak and leaped into the air.

  Dee caught it and hugged it to her chest. She glared at Henry. “You hurt it!”

  Nhi pouted. “It’s only a helpless little . . .”

  “. . . what?” Dee studied the creature.

  “It’s a long-haired rat.” Nhi flung back her dark braids in Henry’s direction, then lifted one of the creature’s paws. “Or something.”

  “It can be my pet.” Dee clutched it tight. “Henry wounded it.”

  “I barely touched it,” he protested.

  Meredith reined in. “Put that thing down, whatever it is, and catch up.”

  The girls moved closer, squishing the furball. It squeaked in protest.

  Yuki put on his glasses and examined the creature. It was not a rat of any kind—more like a furry slug with paws. Interesting.

  Dee turned pathetic eyes on him. “Yuki, you understand. You like new creatures.”

  “Wild things should be left in the wild. No matter how cuddly it is now, it won’t bond with you like a rat will.”

  Meredith nodded. “Once it matures, it’ll forget all about you and run away. Put it down.”

  “N-o-o-o-o!” the girls shrieked.

  Yuki peered along the line of horses, to Jennie at the lead. She obviously hadn’t seen any of this, and neither had anyone but Meredith, Henry, and him. “Oh, put it in your pouch and come on,” he said, pocketing his glasses. “Remember, you have to take unknown creatures to quarantine first if you want to bring them into town. And make sure it eats. If it doesn’t, you’ll have to let it go, or it’ll die.”

  They trotted up the road. Yuki could understand the girls being intrigued, but rather than trying to figure out what the creature was and how it lived, they were more interested in giving it the most nauseatingly cute name possible.

  “Fluffy?” Nhi cooed.

  “Boring. Snowball!”

  “Snowflake.”

  “No, even prettier. Cloud.”

  “Oh! Oh! Princess Cloud.”

  Princess Slug, thought Yuki.

  The squash harvest had begun in the southern fields. Some workers were roasting one for lunch, sending the sweet, acrid smoke drifting on the western breeze. Yuki glanced through the haze at Paco, who had his reins in one hand, and was tapping out a rhythm on his saddle with the other. No matter how much he wanted to get out of town, when he thought of Paco,
the idea of being alone out in the desert seemed lonely.

  “What were you thinking?” Paco asked.

  Yuki glanced around. Henry had ridden ahead to talk to Tommy and Carlos. This was as much privacy as he was likely to get. He lowered his voice. “Would you ever consider leaving Las Anclas?”

  Paco raised a hand to shade his eyes. “Sure. Musicians are welcome wherever they go. If I had a band to travel with . . .”

  “How about a prospector?” Yuki asked casually.

  “Dig by day and play by night? Sounds good to me.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Paco’s dark gaze was serious. “I’d want to come back here sometimes. But if you’d do that, I’ll come with you. You’re not the only one who’d like to see more of the world.”

  Yuki grinned, his future rearranging like a kaleidoscope. He’d be free and independent, but he’d have Paco, too. If they ran into trouble, they’d fight side by side. That should satisfy some of his mother’s worries about him getting ambushed by bandits, or having no one to help him if he got sick or injured.

  Paco added, “I’ve always wondered if my father was a traveling musician. Mom didn’t really know him. They were both just teenagers. We might even catch up with him someday.”

  Yuki longed to drop his arm around Paco’s shoulder, but five thirteen-year-olds were riding twenty paces away, and Henry could be more annoying than all of them. “Where is your mom? The Rangers are still gone, aren’t they?”

  Paco nodded, his grin flaring. “I have the house to myself all night.”

  The horses began to descend toward the canal. At the bridge, Fuego started dancing around, head tossing, ears flat. Yuki leaned forward to see Ross sitting rigid in the saddle, gripping the reins to his chest and dragging Fuego’s head back. Mia tried to get Ross’s attention, to no avail.

  Yuki hated to think what damage he might be doing, and hurriedly crossed the bridge to rescue the gelding.

  Mia’s voice rose above the others, “What’s wrong, Ross?”

  Ross leaped off Fuego. Still holding the reins, he began running along the ridge that formed the eastern border of the fields. Yuki urged Reckless closer, leaned down, and yanked the reins from Ross’s hands.

 

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