Darkthaw (16 page)

After laying the branches, we hauled rocks from the riverbank and piled them on top, filling in the cracks with earth and leaves from the forest floor. Never buried anyone to send them to their peace before, so I just did as Isi told me. I worked fast, unthinking, like I was doing some menial task back at the settlement, stacking herb bundles in Storages and Kitchens or some such.

Daniel wandered along the bank, picking dandelions and rock daisies. Then he sat in the sun and waited until we were done. All the while, I kept one eye over my shoulder, hoping Kane would show. He'd know what to do, how to tell if Daniel is going to be all right. Daniel didn't cry when I told him we were burying his ma, just said he'd find her some flowers.
He doesn't understand. Course he doesn't. Death was common in the settlement, sure, but it wasn't talked about. Bodies were disposed of quick, and life went on.

I stare at the mounds of rocks, my stomach hollowing out. Bodies. Andre, Kane's ma, and a little boy who wasn't more than six. Bodies lying there, underneath all that dirt and rock. Useless. Gone. Never coming back.

Andre, who wanted to see the world. Andre, who helped me from the moment he met me, who shared my dreams. Sister Violet, who I didn't even want along on our journey, who I was going to be glad to be rid of. I picture Kane's dark eyes when he hears.

My heart pulses with pain. I sink to my knees, screwing my eyes shut.

“Em?” My eyes fly open, and I find Daniel approaching me slow, unsure. “Found this,” he says. He holds out his hands. In one is a handful of limp wildflowers. In the other, Nico's bow.

I sit back on my heels, blinking back tears.

This is your purpose now. Nico. Daniel
.

“Hey,” I say. “Come on, we're going to get going.” I dust off my hands and stand.

“Are we going to Kane and Nico?”

I force a smile. “Yes.”

He points at the mounds. “Will—” He starts to ask but stops, looking at the things in his hands. “Will we come back for her?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “She's staying here.” I force my voice steady. “Your ma is resting now.”

He studies me a minute. He nods. He walks past the
graves, scattering a few flowers at the foot of each mound. “Rest good.” He looks up at me. “Should I leave this here?”

Nico's broken bow.

“Sure,” I say. “We'll make him a new one.” As he places it on his ma's grave, I swallow and look away to the river. The wind blows across the flats into the woods, whispering around us.

“We need to go,” Isi calls from beneath the spruce trees. “Come.” He extends his hand to Daniel, who hurries into the woods to take it.

I have to think my goodbye because I can't bring myself to say it.

Be at peace
. I pick up my
ceinture
from where it's been drying in the sun, Isi's blood washed clean from it with river water, and tie it around my waist. I pick up my pack slow, lingering in front of Andre's grave.

I'm sorry you didn't get to see this world, Andre. I'm sorry it ended so quick
.

I step into the woods after Isi, taking no care with my bad foot and feeling a backwards relief when it catches on some deadfall and sings with fire.

And as I embrace that pain I wonder if I'm lying to myself. Mayhap Andre got to see this world, all right.

Mayhap this is all it has to offer.

WE FOLLOW SOME TRAIL I CAN'T SEE DEEP INTO
the woods for hours. In the afternoon we come to a little creek, chattering cheerful-like over a stony bed.

It winds off to the northwest, and Isi climbs into its ravine, beckoning for us to stay on the bank. He stands a moment, looking around. “They followed it.” He climbs back into the trees, and we press forward.

As the day wears on, I can see by the frustrated set of his jaw that we are too slow. He carries Daniel on his good side now and again but often has to put him down to pull aside brush or deadfall or to scout ahead to make sure we're still following the creek when it winds. I try to carry Daniel but can only manage for a little while at a time.

It's slow going, and we're walking so close to the creek anyhow . . . “Shouldn't we just walk the creek bed?” I ask finally.

Isi shakes his head. “It's better up here.”

I sigh and turn back to help Daniel over a fallen tree. Suppose
being on the creek bed would mean walking more than we need to, with all its twists and turns.

When I turn back around, Isi has stopped and is peering at something in the creek.

“What is it?” I join him and follow his gaze.

There's a carcass at the edge of the water.

A deer, but not gleaming white like that skeleton I found days back. Patches of flesh and hair are stuck to the body like some sickly patchwork quilt, skull part-desiccated. Its tongue hangs from its mouth, swollen, caked with black blood. Looks as though it's bled out from somewhere, judging by the stain on the rocks around it, but I can't see a wound. A cloud of flies buzzes about, feasting on its glassy eyes.

I turn Daniel away and draw him behind me, putting my body between him and the sight. Isi hops down the bank and approaches it.

“What happened to it?” I ask.

Isi takes a stick from the forest floor and prods it, looking it over. The creek burbles cheerful behind him, out of place with the carcass. When he straightens, his face is grim. “It was sick.”

“What with?”

He shrugs, but his eyes flick to the side. The Bleed. Has to be, but I can tell by his face Isi plans on keeping me in the dark. Is the sickness in this creek? How can I find out if he thinks so? “Should—should we move it out of the water?” I ask.

“Why?”

“Just . . . using water downstream from this seems awful.”

“We won't be drinking this water,” Isi says, answering my
question. We don't have Matisa's remedy now, so he doesn't want to take chances. He prods at the deer again. The swarm of flies rises and buzzes noisily, waiting to land.

“There are footsteps here,” Isi says, pointing at the creek. I lean close. The footprint is solid—human. A boot. It rests beside the deer, and the imprint has filled with bloody water. The toe of the boot leaks slow into the river.

“Like in my dream,” I think aloud.

Isi turns to me. “What dream?”

“I dreamt that I found one footprint, bleeding a river. It led to a grove of trees that had green leaves, and snow.”

He looks to the sky like he hasn't heard. “It's getting late; we need to keep moving.”

We break at sundown. I'm bone-tired, but I offer to set up camp while Isi goes to find something for us to eat. The food packs were on the horses; the pots and utensils, too. Isi doesn't seem too fussed about this, but I have no idea how to manage without our effects. He heads off into the woods with his slingshot and knife. Got no idea where that rifle ended up in the chaos, and I don't want to ask him about it—don't even want to think about the homestead.

I busy myself with doing the one thing I can: making a fire.

“Em?” Daniel says. I look up from the small bundle of twigs. “When will we see Kane and Nico?”

“Soon,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “They're probably wondering about me.”

“Course,” I say. “But they know you're with me and Isi. They know you're safe.”

He nods. His brow crinkles. “Who were those people? At that big fire?”

I blow and fan, coaxing the flames. “Those men weren't like anybody we know. They were bad men.”

“But what if we see them again? What if they find us again?” He's shifting from foot to foot now, looking around at the trees. He's working himself into a state—

I hop to my feet and take his hands in mine. “You don't need to worry about that. You're safe. Isi and I won't let anything happen to you.”

He stares up at me, his dark eyes unsure.

I try to smile, but it occurs to me this might become pretty regular, him getting riled. I didn't have brothers or sisters, so I'm not used to soothing them. The only child I ever had underfoot was Edith, Tom's little sister. She liked songs. And I used to sing my ma's song when I was scared, when I was alone.

“Hey,” I say. “Did your ma ever sing you songs? At night?”

He nods.

“Which was your favorite?”

“The rabbit song.”

Got no idea what that is. “Sing a little bit for me now.”

“Don't remember the words.” His face crumples like he's going to cry.

“That's all right!” I say quick, squeezing his hands. “Just hum it.”

He frowns, thinking. Finally he starts in a halting little melody. Full out of tune.

“That's so pretty,” I say. “I bet you felt real good when your ma sung that song, all safe and snug in your bed?”

He nods.

“So here's what you do. Anytime you're feeling scared or nervous, you just close your eyes and hum that song. And even if you can't hear her, your ma will be humming it along with you from her resting place.”

His eyes widen. “Truly?”

“Course. And then you'll know everything's going to be all right.” I jostle his hands, tugging at him, playful. “Now come on.” I point to the packs. “Let's see what we've got for eating tools.”

As we look through the packs, I realize Daniel isn't the only one who'll need a song to hum. Been trying not to think about Kane all day, but now that we're stopped and dusk is falling, a panicky little fluttering is starting in my chest.

Where is he right now? Did he get away? Was he taken by those men? Is he still alive—

Stop it.

Kane is all right. I'd know if he weren't. I'd feel it.

Wouldn't I?

The partridge roasts slow over the campfire, letting off a mouthwatering smell. The dark woods are quiet, but Isi hasn't stopped making quick tours of the outskirts of our camp. He returns now and again to turn the meat.

“I can do that,” I say. Daniel is huddled in my cloak in the crook of my arm.

Isi waves me off and pulls the spit away from the fire. “It is ready.”

We tear into the flesh before it's cool, burning the tips of
our fingers and roofs of our mouths. When we're done, the ache of hunger has dulled.

Isi stokes the fire high and Daniel falls asleep straight away. I pull off my
ceinture
and wad it up, tuck it under the side of his head.

Isi watches the flames.

“Thank you,” I say. “For the partridge.”

He shrugs. I look at the fire and study him from under my brow. He led at a determined pace today, stopping only when Daniel complained or I asked for a rest. It's clear he believes we're on the right trail. Somehow . . .

I poke at the fire, look over at Daniel, sleeping quiet beside me. Clear my throat. “How can you . . . track them?” I ask.

Isi raises his eyebrows. “There are many signs if you know where to look.”

“What are they?”

He shrugs. “Broken branches, footprints. There was blood in places, from the one man's wound. They stopped to tend to it.”

“Oh,” I say. All I saw was that bloody footprint.
That footprint
. Isi ignored me when I talked about my dream earlier. Like it meant nothing. But I know different. Could feel someone waiting in those trees. “My dream . . .” I hesitate. “It was the strangest thing. Tall green trees—like in summer, but capped with snow.”

Isi squints. It's slight, but it's a tell: I've spoken something significant.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head like he doesn't know, but he's not being truthful—I can see it.

“You know those trees?”

He shrugs. “Our purpose is Nico.” His eyes shift. He's keeping something from me.

Off in the trees, a night bird calls.

All at once I'm uneasy. Isi's sudden change of heart, us following a trail I can't see, this snowy forest. None of it makes any sense. My skin prickles. “Why?”

Isi's gaze snaps up.

“Why are we coming after Nico? Why are you helping us?”

He studies me a moment. “You don't trust me,” he says.

“It's not that.”

He's giving me that look I hate—that hard look that makes me double-guess my own thoughts. Well, so what if I don't trust him now? Why should I? “You were ready to leave Daniel and me. You would've if he hadn't woken. And you were planning to leave us at that homestead and go after Matisa yourself.”

“So?”

“So what changed?”

He looks away into the trees. “Matisa's dream,” he says.

“Beg pardon?”

He's quiet so long I wonder if he's heard me. I'm about to ask again when he sighs deep. “She dreamt that I was following a tree seed—drifting on the breeze. In my hand I held a bird with a broken wing.” He stares into the fire. “Follow the seedpod . . .”