Darkthaw (19 page)

I frown. “The Snake?”

“We're calling it that because of the way it winds.”

“And how far north and south?” I ask. The trap we ran
into was a day north of the crossing. It was the first sign we'd seen of anyone, save the Jamesons. Even so, that boundary is only four days' travel from the fortification. From Tom.

“That's harder to say. It seems they're more interested in expanding north than south—maybe because the land south of the river crossing is pretty inhospitable.”

I look at the blank parts of his map and raise an eyebrow.

“Or so we hear,” he says. “Haven't made it that far.” He begins to roll the parchment.

I risk a glance at Isi. His face is all closed down. I make a decision. “We met a mapmaker days back,” I offer.

“Oh?” Elizabeth's eyes get keen.

“Called himself Henderson,” I say. “Said he was working for the Dominion.”

Elizabeth and Ulysses look at each other.

“Do you know him?”

“We know of him,” Elizabeth says. “We're his competition.” Another word I'm not sure of. “He just doesn't know it yet.”

“He talked about rogues, people like this Leon—people who like it out here because there is no law.”

“No law
yet
,” Elizabeth says. “Once the Dominion's law arrives it's going to get nasty.”

My skin prickles. The thought of these men laying claim out here and the Dominion showing up, contesting it, sets my blood running hot. Is
this
the war Matisa was dreaming on?

I focus on what matters to us right now: “What could they want with a child?”

“Sorry?” She squints at me.

Right. She's asking me to come again. I look at Daniel and lower my voice. “Those men took his brother.”

Elizabeth's face goes dark. “Probably plan to raise him as their own. They're populating any way they can.” The heat in her voice, the hate in her eyes when she says this . . .

I force myself to ask what I've been wondering all along. “You said they let you go. What happened to your horses?”

Ulysses snaps the latch closed on his map case and moves closer to Elizabeth. He puts his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close with his good hand.

“Leon kept our horses as collateral. Took my necklace, too,” she says. “It was a locket with”—she falters—“with a picture of our daughter in it.” The way she says it tells me the drawing was all she had left of her child. She clears her throat. “Said he'd give it all back when we returned with the map. He wanted me as part of the bargain, but Uly wouldn't go without me.” Ulysses squeezes her shoulder, protective-like.

“Why did they want you?”

“There are too many men there; not enough women,” she says.

I frown for a moment, trying to figure her meaning. And then I see.

They're populating any way they can
.

A sickness grabs my stomach, and I reach out a hand to Isi nearby, for balance or reassurance, I'm not sure which. I sense him stiffen and draw my hand back.

“How did you escape?” I ask.

“They wanted that map more than they wanted me.” She puts her hand on Ulysses's injured one. “But they gave Uly a reminder to return.”

I can't look at the seeping bandage. “And will you?” I ask.

“Of course not,” she spits out. “They're getting nothing from us.”

“But—”

“They'll have to hunt us down.” Her eyes are full of fire. “All my life I've been dreaming of coming out west. Dreaming of seeing these wild lands for myself. Ulysses and I planned to make our fortune by mapping it. When we lost Charlotte, it was time to come west, to start fresh.” She looks at him, and her face gets soft. “I've already found the place we should settle. Just south of that crossing. It's so beautiful—a little valley tucked away among the pines.” Ulysses smiles at her, and they share a moment that makes my heart pang with longing.

When Elizabeth looks at me, the fury is back in her eyes. “If you think I'm going to help those rodents claim this land for themselves, you can think again.”

I stare at her. Never known anyone like this woman. Sister Ann at the settlement was outspoken and opinionated; she ran her household. Soeur Manon also had her own mind—she lived on her own terms, and even Council left her to herself.

But this Elizabeth is different. She doesn't just have her own mind; she has a dream. She's determined to start a new life out here in the unknown, and she won't let the horror they've just lived through break her.

All at once I want these two to succeed. To survive, at least.

“The water out here,” I blurt before I can stop myself. “It might be . . . unclean.”

“Oh, we're boiling all the water we use,” she waves her hand. “That's survival tip number one in my wilderness guide.”

I can feel Isi's eyes boring into me, so I don't ask her what she's speaking on. I change the subject. “This Keep,” I say. “Do they guard it at all times?”

“They're still building it,” Ulysses says. “It'll be a huge fortification when they're done, with posts for sentries. But for now they've got a camp outside the walls. I'd say half a dozen men keep a lookout at night.”

“And they have weapons.” I state this; the disaster at the homestead proved it.

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. “And then some. I'm guessing Leon took advantage of the black arms trade before he pressed west. They all carry Rosses, and I saw a fully automatic bipod. Wouldn't be surprised if they've got their hands on that poison gas.”

I can't figure any of this but decide Isi probably can. Best to get information we don't have. “How many men in Leon's group?”

Ulysses scratches his beard. “A couple hundred? Though some of those aren't there by choice. Some are prisoners, being kept for labor.”

“Prisoners from where?”

Ulysses shrugs. “Not sure where they came from—some tribe to the west, maybe?”

I look to Isi. A muscle works in his jaw.

“Did they have a red hawk symbol on their sleeves?”

Ulysses frowns. “Not that I noticed.”

I think about Nishwa, heading southwest from where that trap was. He was heading direct into Leon's men.

“Em,” Isi says, nudging me with his elbow. Daniel is back, his hands full of fiddleheads. Isi takes them from him and messes his hair, affectionate-like. But the look he gives me is grave and impatient.

“We should get on,” I say, standing up.

“You never did say where you're from,” Ulysses says. This pulls me up short.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth says. “Where is your home?” She tilts her head. “Why are you out here?”

I open my mouth to respond. Close it. Don't know what to say. And with that realization, a panicked fluttering starts in my chest.

Isi's voice breaks my thoughts. “We are headed west once we find the boy.” He says it like it explains everything.

Elizabeth studies his face. She shrugs. “Well, I suppose it's none of our business. I'm telling you to steer clear of that Keep, but I can see you'll do as you please.” She stands. “Sorry we can't help you further, but we've got our maps to see to.”

“Beth,” Ulysses says, “they're just kids.”

She levels him a look. “They're kids who've got along this far,” she says. “And you know as well as I do, out here if you're not looking out for yourself, you're borrowing trouble.”

They hoist their packs onto their backs.

“Thank you for warning us,” I say.

“Hope you get your small one back,” she says, and offers a quick smile. “Good luck.”

Her smile, though, isn't one of hope. It's to hide the look in her eyes—the look that betrays what she truly thinks. She thinks we'll need more than luck; we'll need a bleedin' miracle.

THE WOODS WE REACH AT DUSK HAVE BEEN RAVAGED
by fire; skeletal trees and bright purple fireweed remain in the tall grasses.

It's eerie quiet. We press through as silent as we can, Isi carrying Daniel and me trying hard not to hobble on my bleedin' bad foot. Soon we can hear the rush of a river—probably the headwaters of this little creek we've been following—and the forest starts greening again. The grasses are long, hiding the deadfall and making it tricky to traverse.

Isi puts up a hand to stop us. As our noise quiets, I hear something new: sawing, pounding. Like back at the settlement when we'd replace parts of the wall or build a new shack.

We move forward cautious-like and soon can see the forest emptying out to a flat area near the rushing river.

My eyes widen. I'm staring at the fortification.

Except different: new. The walls aren't weathered posts;
they're gleaming flat boards, planed and standing tall. Sounds of construction come from within. There is a scattering of several large white tents outside the walls, and a dozen or so people mill about, too far away to see clear. A fire roars in the center of it all. Half a dozen horses are tethered to trees at the outskirts of camp, toward the river.

Isi touches my arm and tilts his head, telling me to retreat.

We take Daniel back several dozen strides and set him on the far side of a fallen log.

“Stay with him,” he says. He begins to check his pack, taking stock of his knife and slingshot.

I ignore Isi and say to Daniel: “Wait here. Be silent as a field mouse.”

He grasps at my arms. “What if it's scary?”

“Remember? You have the rabbit song.”

“But I thought you told me to be quiet?”

Almighty. Couldn't I have given him a pinecone to hold or something more practical? I grit my teeth and force a reassuring smile. “You hum it
inside
, all right?”

Daniel nods up at me, his eyes wide.

“I will go alone,” Isi tells me.

“No,” I say.

He crosses his arms. “You're slow and loud,” he says.

“And you're bleeding,” I say, pointing to the pool of crimson staining the side of his shirt.

Isi looks down, swearing in his language, and I take my chance, spinning around and striking off ahead of him. He catches up to me in a heartbeat, giving me a dark look and tugging me off to the side so we cut close to the river. When
I turn a questioning look on him, he makes a circle with his finger. I'm guessing this means he wants to see the camp from all sides.

We position ourselves so that we have sight of the riverbank and the tents. It's difficult to hear anything with the river rushing past in a torrent, but the sounds of sawing and pounding have stopped. It's getting too dark to work.

At the fire in the center of camp, a dark-haired woman tends a spit, roasting what looks like a dozen small animals.

Isi's eyes scan the banks, the camp. Ahead, there is a small area where the rise from the shore is gradual, emptying up to the clearing they've chosen for the fort. The tents are positioned in a half circle on the opposite side from us. Behind the walls to the north and to the west, the forest holds young trees.

A big man with braided black hair pushes out from a tent on the far side. He cuts a circle, walking the perimeter of the camp, and when he turns I see a red symbol on his sleeve. Can't make it out from here, but I know he's First Peoples, like the woman. He's carrying a gun, but it's big and strange looking—not a buckshot rifle, surely.

He patrols the perimeter once and returns to the fire.

I glance back toward Daniel, but dark has cloaked the woods, and I can't see him anymore.

Isi shifts beside me, drawing my attention back to the camp.

People are emerging from behind the walls of the fortification. The first is tall and broad shouldered, and even from here I can see the settlement women would find him attractive. His blond hair glints in the light of a lantern he carries
in his fist. I squint—sure it was a trick of the light—but next to the first man, he looks pale, like a ghost.

A woman appears behind him, red hair a bright flame down her back.

The Cormorant people Elizabeth spoke on.

The blond man and the big man speak. More men appear from the walls, trudging with slouched shoulders as if they've been working hard and are near exhaustion. But I see at least ten are—

Almighty
.

Shackled.

They're shuffling slow, their feet bound so they can't run, and the two men who follow last have guns in their hands. As they leave the shadows and step into the glow of the firelight, I can see the shackled all look like Isi—dark hair, tawny skin—and the men carrying guns look like that broad-shouldered man: pale.

I search the line, my heart in my throat, before I realize what I'm looking for—
who
I'm looking for. I'm terrified I'll find Nishwa. The tightness in my throat eases when I don't.

The blond man and the man with dark braids disappear into the big tent and the red-haired woman heads for the small tent beside it. She ducks inside and emerges leading a dark-haired child.