Flight of the Wounded Falcon

It was well after midnight when the last of the retrieval party reached the First Resting Station hidden in the large boulder field beyond the forest.

  The very last man to come in was Relf Shin. He walked in slowly, almost dragging his feet. The caverns, accessible only by a maze of channels between the massive boulders, were filled to capacity with nearly eighty people quietly sitting and talking in the dim candle light, or already sleeping in the hanging nets. Some were retrieval scouts, a few were the remaining scouts working undercover in the world, and thirty-eight were the last refugee men, women, and children that Guide Zenos would be able to get out for the next few seasons.

  The night before, the cavern had been much noisier, filled with dump children that the supplier scouts had been gathering for the past few weeks. They lured them kindly with sweets and blankets, then explained that they could take them far away where they’d never be without food or clothing. Some older children ran in the opposite direction, knowing that such promises from such men usually led to a horrible existence. But others, mostly those under ten years old, followed trustingly.

  Last night, Relf had helped the forty women who had come down with clothing and shoes to dress the arriving children who wore little else than rags, and the large group of children had set off that morning, some already with their new mothers, to meet the rest of their new families eagerly waiting for them in Salem.

  It was a mixed success. While the scouts knew that a couple hundred more dump children existed—and there had been over six hundred Salem families who applied to take in the orphans—they were, in the end, able to convince only forty-six to leave the world.

  Uncle Shem and Aunt Calla, Woodson, and many rectors and their wives had debated for days about how, or if, they should force all the children to leave. But in the end, they couldn’t think of how to force the older children without terrorizing them, or without them putting up a fuss and drawing attention to their plight, thus possibly destroying the entire mission to rescue the abandoned children. Sedation was too risky to use, nor was knocking them out and having them wake up in a strange place the best way to begin earning their trust.

  Still, forty-six children were saved, and they had to be satisfied with that, before whatever disaster would take the others they failed to reach.

  The youngest child, who caused Relf to blink back tears last night as he cleaned her face and fed her bread, was not even three years old. If there weren’t already a dozen families hoping to claim her as their own, Relf would have done so, especially after she fell asleep in his arms.

  As he watched the large group leave that early morning, the children nervous but excited and tentatively holding the hands of their cheerful adult escorts, he felt greater hope than ever that tomorrow morning he’d be escorting home his own lost brother.

  But it wasn’t going to happen.

  Relf stumbled to a flat stone in the cavern and sat down to hold his head in his hands. A moment later he heard Woodson, who had crouched in front of him.

  “We expected this, didn’t we? We knew it was a long shot. Even Guide Zenos didn’t think he’d come.”

  “How can I go back?” Relf breathed. “How can I face them knowing I failed?”

  “Hey,” Woodson shook his shoulder. “You did not fail! You found him. You spoke to him, which is better than any of us have been able to do in three seasons. He’s failed himself. You took a tremendous risk coming here, and your parents and wife and children will be thrilled to see you return safely.”

  “They’d be happier if I didn’t come home alone,” he whispered.

  “You’ll return with the knowledge that he’s still alive. That he has a place to eat and sleep and is under some kind of control. That’s hardly a failure, Relf. You’re bringing back hope.”

  “Thank you, Woodson,” he sighed. “By morning I might almost believe you.”

  Woodson stood up and patted him on the back. “Let’s get you something to eat. By then your second duty should be ready for you.”

  Relf finally looked up. “Did everyone else make it in?”

  “Everyone’s been retrieved, except the one.”

  Relf sighed at that small consolation as Woodson walked away.

  A woman about his mother’s age came over with a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. He nodded gratefully as she pulled up a stool and sat down in front of him. Her peaked face was drawn and weary, as if she’d endured an arduous life, but her hazel eyes sparkled.

  “You don’t look so well, young man. Can I get you something else?”

  “No, ma’am, but thank you. I just had a disappointing night. Things didn’t go as I hoped or planned.”

  The woman sighed. “I know all about plans going awry. But tonight, for the first time in years, I have hope! Are you one of them, one of the men who scout out people who need to leave?”

  Relf realized she wasn’t a Salemite, but a new refugee. “Not normally, ma’am. I’m an accompanying scout who came on a special assignment that failed.” He took a drink of the broth to avoid explaining any more.

  The woman patted him comfortingly on the knee. “Any efforts your people make cannot be failures. This wasn’t the first time someone contacted me about leaving, but this is the first time I was finally brave enough to do it. I’ve been reached twice before, and each time I was too terrified about committing to the change. I needed time to think and to accept. And now, not only am I leaving, but so are my daughters and a son-in-law. It’s miraculous! There still is a Creator! I thought He died long ago, but all that was dead was a part of me that refused to hear Him anymore. There still is a place for us. Whomever you’ve left behind, I am sure he just needs a little more time.”

  Relf tried to smile at her encouragement, but what he knew weighed down his face. “I appreciate your words. But that’s the problem: we don’t have a lot of time left. Exactly why or what is coming, none of us know. We just know the guide said everyone needed to get out and to Salem by the end of this week. But ma’am, I’m glad you’ve made it out, you and your children. By the way, my name is Relf. Relf Shin.”

  The woman’s mouth dropped open as she stared at him.

  Woodson was there in an instant, hovering over Relf. “Did you tell her your name?” he asked sternly.

  Relf was confused. “Well, yes. I didn’t think the secrecy was necessary anymore. We’re on our way out of the world, and—”

  Woodson shook his head. “We don’t reveal our most sensitive secrets until after we’re out of the boulders! And now you’ve just told our most vulnerable refugee who you are!”

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry . . .” Relf said, looking at the woman whose eyes were filling with tears. “I didn’t think there was any problem now.”

  “Are you his grandson?” the woman asked timidly. “Named after your great-grandfather?”

  Woodson threw his hands in the air. “Go ahead. You’ve obviously said enough already. You Shins never follow the rules . . .”

  Relf gave him an apologetic smile and nodded at the woman. “Yes, ma’am, I am. Perrin Shin was my grandfather. Shem Zenos is my uncle. His wife and my mother are sisters. I was here to retrieve my brother—”

  “Enough!” Woodson hissed. “She doesn’t need the full family line, Relf.”

  Relf almost chuckled.

  The woman shook her head in amazement. “You don’t look anything like them, though. I never would have imagined . . .”

  “Yes, it’s a bit of a surprise, I know,” Relf said. “But it won’t be the last surprise you encounter. I’m sure Woodson and his men have warned you about what you’ll find.”

  She nodded. “But perhaps they should have warned you as well.” She glanced at Woodson and bit her lip nervously.

  He groaned and shrugged. “If any two people should be introduced here, I suppose it’s you two. Relf, this woman is traveling to Salem with her three daughters and son-in-law.”

  Relf’s eyebrows rose. “You have three daughters? That’s amazing! I t
hought the only person who had three daughters in the world was—” He paled in realization.

  “Yes. Relf Shin, meet Druses, otherwise known as Mrs. Lemuel Thorne.”

  Before Relf could respond, another scout called from one of the back chambers, “Woodson? He’s coming around.”

  Woodson pulled Relf up by the collar, barely letting him set down his bowl and bread. “There’ll be time to chat later. Relf, your second duty’s waking up.”

  He followed Woodson reluctantly. “I still don’t feel good about this. The man’s mentally unstable.”

  “That’s why this will work so well,” Woodson said as they followed a twist and another turn back to a narrow and quiet holding area.

  “But this is deceptive—”

  “Welcome to the world,” Woodson said tonelessly. “Unfortunately sometimes we need to employ the ways of the world to drag people out of it. This is his last chance. We’ve been trying to get him for years, you know that. After today? There’s no hope for the man. You, Relf Shin, have been blessed with that voice that gives your family chills for a reason, and I believe this is why.”

  They paused in front of the last chamber, two lanterns lighting it dimly. On a cushion on the floor, a tall, slender man with blond hair highlighted by white streaks was slowly trying to sit up. Two burly scouts on either side of him were crouched, ready to provide help or to tackle him to the ground again.

  The man blinked and he held his head where he’d been hit. “What a headache . . . Where am I?” He surveyed the area and gasped. “I know this! I know this! The boulder field to the north!”

  Woodson took a step closer. “Yes, Jon. This is the boulder field, and we’ve brought you here—”

  “No! Why? I have a duty to perform! Colonel Shin needs to be preserved—”

  Woodson nodded once to Relf.

  Knowing that was his cue, he half-heartedly he said, “Colonel Shin wants—”

  “Lower,” Woodson whispered. “Drop your voice lower.”

  “Colonel Shin wants you to come home,” Relf said in his deepest register, “Colonel Offra.”

  Jon Offra tilted his head and stared at Relf. “Who are you?”

  Relf hesitated. “Who do I sound like?”

  “What’s going on here? This is a trick! No, I need to go back. I know who you men in green are!”

  “Yes, you do,” Relf said, keeping his voice in that tone which made Shem’s arms break out into goosebumps. “Colonel Offra, I’m commanding you to stand down. It’s time for you to retire. You’ve done an excellent job spreading rumors and defending Salem. Now, the guide and General Shin request you to come home.”

  “General Shin?” Offra’s eyes went glassy. “He really wants me home?”

  Relf wasn’t as skilled in lying as the others, so he said, “And more importantly, I’m insisting that you come to Salem. And my name is . . . Relf Shin.”

  Offra mouthed the name Relf Shin. “I know that voice,” he whispered. “Command school. So long ago . . . it’s you, but it’s not you.”

  “I’m his great-grandson.” Relf could get out the truth much easier. He hesitated before delivering the next line. “I’ve been given a field promotion to general by the guide of Salem, and I’m ordering you to return with us. Face it, Colonel: you’re going to Salem, conscious or unconscious. It’s your decision.”

  Offra was struggling to get to his feet, using the stone behind him and ignoring the offers of help from the scouts. Trembling, he raised his hand to his head in a salute. “Yes, sir. All right, then,” he whispered.

  Relf returned the salute, one that Shem had made him practice for an hour so that it’d be as snappy as the original High General Relf Shin’s salute.

  He assumed he got it right, because Colonel Jon Offra began to sob as he dropped his arm. “That was General Relf Shin!” he said to a scout next to him. “Did you see him? He looks nothing like himself!”

  “I do see him. Yes, that’s Relf Shin,” said the scout. “There are lots of Shins now. Would you like to meet all of them?” He spoke to Offra as if he were a lost dog, and Offra licked it up.

  “I do! I do! I do want to see all the Shins! Where are they?” He looked around eagerly, and even absurdly up into the stone as if they were hiding in the ceiling cracks.

  “We’ll go day after tomorrow, Jon, all right? After you’re rested from that headache we gave you. Let’s get you something to eat—”

  Relf noticed something about Jon’s foot, that it was twitching. “Watch him,” Relf said, dropping his voice appropriately. “Offra’s been in the world for a long time.” He caught Jon’s eye and stared him down hard, another trick he learned, this time from his father. “Offra’s not quite one of us yet, are you, son?”

  The man was old enough to be his father, but Offra heard only the High General, who could have been Jon’s grandfather. “I’m trying to be, sir,” Offra whispered, wilting under that terrifying Shin glare.

  Relf had practiced it on a few of Deck’s bulls. Not a single one of them could stand it. Even Peto had shaken his head and said, “I swear he’s in your eyes, Relf. And now, I think he’s laughing at me.”

  Relf felt his great-grandfather in his eyes again, and strangely felt taller and broader, too. Only because it felt like the right thing to do, Relf raised his finger and pointed it at Jon. “Do not run. Do not try to escape. Do nothing unless you ask permission first. You will return to Salem, and you will never venture into the world again. Do you understand me, young man?”

  Perhaps the young man was a bit over the top, but considering how the original Relf Shin would have been around one hundred now, it seemed appropriate.

  So appropriate that Jon fired off another salute, and whispered, “All right, then. I understand, sir.”

  Relf returned the salute, feeling so snappy about it that he could have cracked a rock in half had it been at the end of it, and spun expertly on his heel—which he’d never done before—and marched out of the chamber.

  Jon Offra stared after him. “That was High General Shin. How’d they do that?”

  ---

  The next morning before dawn, Relf Shin sat down at the same stone table as Druses Thorne to eat his breakfast. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said when he saw the alarm of the two younger daughters. Apparently Druses had told them earlier who he was. “But I thought it’d be a good idea for us to get acquainted. I’d like you to know there are no hard feelings between our families. Actually, we’re grateful for Lemuel chasing out our grandparents and parents so we could live in Salem.” While he may have appeared to be purely Trovato, he also knew something of the Shin charm, and so to put the anxious family at ease, he pulled out his version of a Perrin grin.

  Druses produced a frail smile in return, her two daughters cowered, and her son-in-law didn’t even look up from his pancakes. The oldest Thorne daughter, however, fixed on a wary glare.

  Apparently he didn’t possess enough of that charm to win them over that easily. This was going to be a hard sell, he realized, when people have been so hardened by the world.

  He extended his hand to the young woman, maybe nineteen, with blond hair pulled up into a loose bun, and cold, blue eyes. “Relf Shin, at your service. I’m heading up this morning with your group, should you need any help.”

  The young woman took his hand and squeezed it with surprising strength. Relf held back his gasp as a knuckle cracked.

  “So,” she said, not breaking her grip or her stare, “you’re not dragging poor Offra out of here yet? The man looks almost as shocked as the folks he’s terrified over the years.” She nodded to Offra who was sitting tensely in a corner with his breakfast, gazing shifty-eyed around the room, his guards on either side.

  Relf chuckled stiffly and reclaimed his throbbing hand. “No, we’ve decided he needs a quiet moving. Tomorrow a handful of scouts—”

  “You mean, muscled guards,” she interrupted.

  “Well, yes,” he acknowledged, “will bring him
up when we have fewer distractions.”

  “You mean, fewer opportunities for him to run away.”

  “Versula!” her mother hissed.

  But Relf cocked his head. “You like to define things your own way, don’t you? Well, go right ahead. Salem gives you that freedom, and no one will try to force you to believe anything—I promise. We offer you freedom and safety. Mrs. . . ?”

  Her husband, who was in his mid-twenties, supplied, “Kiah,” he said, holding out his hand to shake Relf’s. “I’m Anoki Kiah, this is Versa Kiah, and you’ll forgive us if we’re a bit cynical.” He sat back and eyed Relf critically.

  He offered his warmest smile. “Absolutely, we all understand. My own father was quite suspicious of Salemites, too, when he first came to this very cavern. He was seventeen at the time,” Relf nodded to the younger daughters who were around the same age.

  They only regarded him in fear.

  But Kiah’s glare didn’t soften. “So, do you make it a habit to drag people out of the world against their will?”

  Relf chuckled tightly and began to rethink his idea that sharing breakfast with the Thornes would be a good idea. “No, not really. Offra’s moving is a rare occurrence, I promise. Sometimes people don’t realize where they should be, and we need to give them a bit of help in that regard.”

  “What a convenient rationalization,” Kiah drawled and folded his arms. “Why, you could justify kidnapping half of the world with such carefully selected words like that.”

  Relf pursed his lips, realizing he was being challenged. But he had excellent evidence to the contrary. “My brother is still down there, Kiah. He should have returned three moons ago.” He held Kiah’s glare easily. After all, General Relf Shin was still in his eyes. “I asked him to come home with us, gave him all the reasons why it had to happen now, and he refused. I am honoring his decision, although it’s heart-breaking. In Salem we don’t force anyone to do or believe anything, even if those choices carry grave consequences.” He had more to say, but the words were catching in his throat as he realized his younger brother was now trapped in the world without even a rector to help him.

  Kiah said nothing but shifted his gaze to again watch Offra, who was now closely analyzing a biscuit he’d been given.

  Mrs. Thorne cleared her throat. “Please forgive our lack of . . . well, trust.” She sighed. “We’re wary about everyone. Too many times I’ve opened the door to find soldiers standing there demanding to know my name. The only reason Lemuel married me over twenty years ago was because I was General Snyd’s niece.”

  She wrung her hands nervously, and seemed to believe she had to confess everything to a Shin. Despite Relf’s attempts to motion that she didn’t need to, she launched into her story.

  “Our first few years were almost happy,” she smiled dimly, almost apologetically. “I really learned to love him, you know. I helped him figure out how to write left-handed and to dress himself so he could maintain his dignity. I even organized the first few Celebration weeks they’re having right now. His mother and Grandmother Cush came to help. Once, I confess, I even played the part of your grandmother in the silly pageant they have. Sorry about that.”

  Relf started to say, “Not a problem—” but she was needed to get out all her words, as if eager for someone to listen.

  “Then we had our first baby.” Her smile dimmed to nearly non-existent as she glanced at Versa, whose gaze remained rigid. “Lemuel seemed to forgive me that Versula was a girl. I think he even began to love her when she was a toddler. But when our second daughter came along, I had a feeling the end was coming as well. So desperate he was for a son that he disregarded all recommendations, and less than a season after Delia was born, I was expecting again.”

  Relf could tell who Delia was, a girl about seventeen who nibbled nervously on the ragged tips of her long, blond braid. She looked down guiltily at her plate and picked at a crumb from her pancakes.

  “Then our third daughter Priscill was born,” Druses sighed, and the girl, about sixteen years old on the other side of Delia, rolled her eyes as if it were the dullest story she’d ever heard. Priscill twisted her golden braid mindlessly and looked around the cavern in search for something more interesting.

  “I knew then we were in trouble,” Druses said bleakly. “All he wanted from me was a son to carry on his legacy, and that didn’t seem like it’d happen.

  “People said he sent me away, but the truth is I ran away with my daughters before he could do anything to us. It was 348, and everything was so difficult then. I don’t think we would’ve survived had we stayed in Edge. ‘Guarders’ or something else would’ve destroyed us. You see, according to the laws those days, if we were dead, he could marry again and have more children.

  “So we fled to the southeast, and General Graeson Fadh and his wife Shaleea took us in. For nearly four years they hid us. They had a house in the compound of the fort, and within those walls he had additional walls constructed. No one ever knew we were there. We were confined, but those were good years. Safe years.” Her faint smile returned at the memory, but only briefly. “Then Graeson was killed,” she said dully, and whispered the next words. “It took only a day for the soldiers to hunt down dear Shaleea. General Brillen Karna had been killed several moons before. Again, we had to escape.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes, and Relf wished he dared to step over and hug her. He’d never seen a woman so in need of an embrace. He hoped maybe one of her daughters would do her duty, but the three of them just stared at him, as if waiting for him to do the wrong thing, just as Anoki Kiah was.

  Relf remained on his rock.

  “You just can’t imagine what our lives have been like these past years,” Druses finally continued. “Hiding our identities, pretending Priscill was a cousin, not a daughter, so no one would suspect they were Thorne’s. But look at their features. Look at their hair. As blond as yours. How could anyone who’s met Lemuel not realize these were his daughters? You can’t hide blond hair like that, even though for a few years we did. After we lost the Fadhs, I cut my girls’ hair short so that I had two sons and a nephew that I cared for.

  “And it worked. Versa was just seven, Delia five, and Priscill four. You can’t tell with children that age what gender they’re supposed to be. But after a few years my girls began to develop into women. Then we had to move and hide ourselves again.

  “It’s truly remarkable your people found us so often,” Druses said thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, the only one who ever knew where we were was the Creator. He must have told his guide. And that guide, whose name and memory my husband has spent his life slandering, is the only man who has continually tried to come to our rescue.”

  Relf was amazed, not only by Druses’ story and her insights, but that her oldest daughter Versa still glared at him as if disappointed he hadn’t yet burst into flames.

  Still, he tried the old Shin charm one more time and smiled at the daughters. “Please be assured that what happened in the past with your father will not come with you to Salem. The valley is a place of second chances and new beginnings. When Shem Zenos and Peto Shin greet you, it’ll be with heartfelt hugs—”

  He fleetingly wondered about that, how those hugs might go.

  “—and gratitude for your safety. As I said before, our family is grateful that they left Edge. We have a wonderful life in Salem, and regret nothing.”

  Delia and Priscill regarded him dubiously, but to his surprise Versula Thorne Kiah nearly smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Shin. I really want to believe you. Maybe in time we all can. We keep hearing about a different way of life, but I can’t imagine it. We’ve known nothing but hiding in fear that our father would find us.”

  Her husband softened and put a comforting arm around her. “That’s why we’re leaving, Versa. We’re going to where he’ll never think to find you. I just really wished I knew exactly where we’re going,” and he gave Relf an expectant look.

  Relf shook h
is head. “I can’t divulge that.”

  Anoki Kiah tilted his head in a, Come on, manner.

  “I don’t think he’s even been looking for us lately,” Mrs. Thorne said to her daughters. “I understand he has yet another new woman. Probably someone else who doesn’t know how to breed boys.”

  “Actually . . .” Relf began, and glanced around for Woodson. When he saw he wasn’t near, he whispered to Mrs. Thorne, “His latest woman is from Salem. And, I suppose this is to her detriment, she left behind three daughters.”

  Versa arched an eyebrow. “And are you trying to drag her back to Salem, too?”

  Relf smirked. “You still don’t approve of what we’re doing for Offra, do you?”

  “What you’re doing to him,” Versa emphasized. “You didn’t see him when they brought him in.”

  “No,” Relf admitted. “I understand he was unconscious, though. I was trying to persuade my younger brother to come home at the time. He, uh . . . he ran away to here when Amory Riling did. And no, Mrs. Kiah,” he said pleasantly to Versa. “We’re not forcing Amory home, either. You see that woman over there?” he said in a low voice, and gestured to a woman in her mid-twenties who was talking excitedly to her two older brothers who were her escorts. “She was placed as a seamstress some weeks ago to sew for Amory, who didn’t realize she’s a Salemite.”

  The woman was now waving enthusiastically, apparently trying to explain what the dress looked like to her brothers, who smiled politely and tried to look interested.

  “She was hoping to find any evidence that Amory wanted to return,” Relf explained. “If she seemed upset or despondent in any way, our sewing scout would reveal who she was and help her leave last night as well. But, as it turns out, Amory’s quite—” He paused, realizing he was about to reveal to Thorne’s wife how his new mistress felt about him.

  Druses regarded him resignedly. “I get it,” she said. “And she’s welcome to him. I haven’t had any use for the man in years.”

  Relf chuckled, hoping that was appropriate, and Druses smiled wanly.

  “The foolish woman,” she said disapprovingly. “She won’t last long, you know. Lemuel’s fifty-one now. I suppose she’s much younger?”

  “About twenty years younger.”

  Mrs. Thorne rolled her eyes. “Does he really think he’s going to get a son to carry on his name now? Someone he can train up before he’s dead? He had no idea what he had. What he has! These aren’t his only daughters, Relf. He’s abandoned a string of women and baby girls in some bizarre quest. Females mean nothing to him except as breeding stock.”

  Her two younger daughters looked down at the rock table, but Versa stared off in a distance, her lips pressed tightly together.

  “I am so sorry,” Relf said quietly. “You won’t find any ideas like that in Salem. Women are as valued as men.”

  Mrs. Thorne smiled in gratitude. “Relf, may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “How many sons does your aunt Jaytsy have?”

  Relf winced before answering. “Her oldest was a girl, then she had five boys after that. She has seven all together.”

  Scoffing quietly, Druses said, “That’s what Lemuel wanted. Well, doesn’t matter now, does it. So Relf, can I ask you another question?”

  Relf smiled uncertainly. “I hope I can answer this one more to your liking.”

  “I’m sure you can. The scouts told me the pox is going through Salem. They seemed relieved to hear I had it as a teen.”

  Relf sighed. This wasn’t going to be a happier answer. “It’s been deadly, very quickly. Already we’re suffering great losses in the northern areas, and it’s also showing up in the world. Why no one down there is saying anything about it yet, we’re not sure. If you know it’s happening, you can try to avoid it. Our men who work as fort suppliers further south reported seeing at least a dozen cases last week.”

  “Well, why publicize it, right?” said Druses sarcastically. “It doesn’t fill Lemuel’s or Sargon’s agendas, so ignore it until it becomes a deadly issue. Way of the world, Relf.”

  “Seems to be,” Relf acknowledged. “The good news is that some families seem to be immune, or if someone was exposed to it nearly thirty years ago, it seems to not affect them this time.”

  “Wait,” Delia spoke for the first time. “The pox is deadly?” Her face paled.

  Relf nodded grimly. “It seems to be stronger than years ago. You and your family will be kept in isolation from those who are ill, since both of your parents were sick with it before. You were supposed to be moved to a new home in the north, but that’s where the pox is the worst right now. Of those who fall sick, about half die.” His voice was just above a whisper now. “From the losses we’ve seen already, our doctors expect we may lose up to one fifth of our population. That’s about thirty thousand people.”

  “Slagging Creet!” Kiah exclaimed. “So we’re walking into a death trap! What a great change of life. Thank you. We’ll be dead by Harvest!”

  Relf shook his head patiently. “Your parents, did they suffer from the pox when it was in the world last time?”

  “How would I know?” he hissed. “They’re both dead!”

  “Their faces,” Relf said calmly. “Did they have any scarring, any shallow gouges in their flesh?”

  Mrs. Thorne touched a few faint marks on her face which Relf had already noticed.

  Anoki thought for a moment. “No, none at all.”

  “Then they were likely immune, and so are you. My family seems to be as well. When the pox came around the first time, my grandmother became ill. Her mother died from it. But my father, aunt, and grandfather never became ill. Neither did Shem Zenos. His son is a doctor who’s treated many victims, but he hasn’t had so much as an itch.

  “Our society is able to handle this,” he assured them as they fidgeted in worry. “We’re organized and we’re caring for the ill. No one’s crops or livestock are being neglected. We will survive this and no one will be without comfort. But as for the world?” Relf tipped head. “Complete chaos is coming, especially since they’re ignoring it. Mr. Kiah, can you see that? What will happen to the world if up to one fifth of it—hundreds of thousands of people—die from the pox in the next few weeks?”

  Kiah sighed. “I suppose living in the forest would be better.”

  “I’m relieved you see it that way,” Relf said. “You may be walking into a sick valley, but you’re leaving a future chaos.”

  Kiah leaned forward. “Look, Shin, just tell me—where is this ‘valley’?”

  Relf leaned forward as well. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?” he asked bitterly. “We’ve traveled for days from Midplain, made it through the forest, into these rocks, and I think I’ve been patient enough to get some answers!”

  Versa took his arm. “Anoki, it’s all right. We can trust them.”

  Kiah looked over at her. “None of this is quite what I expected.”

  Versa sighed. “I know. It’s not exactly what I expected either. But this was your idea, Anoki, remember? And I was hesitant. You had to convince me to go,” her voice fell to a whisper. “But after meeting a Shin—”

  She glanced at Relf who produced his most trustworthy smile.

  “—it’s all right. I feel even more confident this is the right thing, and we are doing this!” Versa said with renewed determination.

  Anoki sighed at the table. “Look, Shin,” he whispered, “just draw me a rough map in the dirt at our feet, then I’ll scuff it out. I just need to feel better about all—”

  “Don’t do it, Mr. Shin, if you’re not supposed to,” Versa said coolly.

  Kiah glared at his wife. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  Versa’s eyebrows rose. “We’re all on the same side, Anoki! What’s wrong with you?”

  Kiah’s jaw shifted. “I promised you that I would protect you,” he said. “This does not feel like protecting. It’s irresponsib
le for me to turn your safety over to complete strangers.”

  Relf ventured a small smile. “Please, call me Relf. And when you think about it, I’m not really a complete stranger. The Writings say we are all family, and the Shin and Thorne and Cush families have known each other for generations so, in a way, we’re as good as cousins. We even have the same coloring!” He tried to rub the last of the charcoal out of his blond hair.

  Mrs. Thorne gave him a weary smile and Versa nodded. But her sisters stared at the table, and her husband glared at Relf.

  They left half an hour later, Relf Shin riding with Mrs. Thorne for a time, but keeping an eye subtly on Anoki Kiah, who seemed too agitated.

  But many people reacted that way to the narrow canyons, Woodson told him at the glacial fort when Relf privately told him of his concerns. “However, we’ll watch out for him. And when you see your father, be sure to let him know of your worries. He’ll be their transitioning rector while they’re at the Second Resting Station.”

  Relf was quiet during the ride down the twisting canyons heading to Salem, because all he could think of now was his father. And his mother. And his grandmother.

  They didn’t know yet.

  They didn’t know that he’d been unsuccessful, and they’d likely be waiting at the canyon entrance with Uncle Shem and many others ready to greet the refugees.

  But there’d be no Young Pere to greet.

  While he hadn’t seen his wife and children in weeks, and would spend a few hours with them before he went back to help bring home Jon Offra, Relf couldn’t focus on that happy reunion.

  All too soon the long train of horses and riders approached the narrow canyon opening, and all too quickly the shouts of excitement and surprise echoed in the canyon as the newest Salemites realized just how close to their new home they’d always been.

  Relf had positioned himself at the end of the riders, dreading to see who was waiting with far too much hope.

  There were whoops of joy, and Guide Zenos, full of smiles, hugged Mrs. Thorne and her daughters. But Shem also scanned the crowd looking for a tall rider, until his eyes met with Relf’s.

  That was all he needed. In a flash, he sent the message, It’s all right, Relf. Welcome home, before he dug up cheer from some deep well to share with the next newcomers who were thrilled to meet a real guide of the Creator.

  Relf didn’t know where his father was, until he noticed Peto watching him from the entrance, worry in his eyes. All Relf could do was shrug, then look away to hide his tears. He knew the Thornes were next in line to meet Peto, and he’d intended to be there with them, but he couldn’t bring himself to make the introductions.

  “Please, don’t let Mama be here,” he whispered quietly to himself, unable to look up to recognize any more faces.

  It was the far-off call of, “Papa!” that caught his attention. Just beyond the entrance was a wagon, and even at the distance he recognized little Grunick as he jumped up and down and waved happily.

  Relf wiped his face, nudged Clarkess 36 to skirt the refugee crowd, and rode over to the wagon.

  Grunick leaped dangerously from the wagon bed, but Relf caught him easily and held his son tight. With watery eyes, he smiled at his wife Mattilin, cradling their sleeping newborn daughter and dropping her own tears.

  She reached out to grip his free hand, and behind her . . .

  Oh, behind her . . .

  “I’m so glad you’re home, Relf!” Lilla said bravely as tears of miserable joy wet her face. “We’ve missed you so much, son. Never leave me again, all right? Never.”

  “But I did see him, Mama,” Relf choked out. “And I talked to him for a few minutes.”

  Lilla nodded as if she already knew. “Tell Muggah when we get home. She didn’t feel up to coming to the canyon.” Mama didn’t need to add, Because she doubted you’d succeed.

  Relf felt someone else grip his arm, and he looked down from his horse to see his father, his chin trembling. “Missed you, son. That was a long five weeks.”

  “Yes, it was,” he chuckled sadly, his son still wrapped firmly around his neck. “Jon Offra’s going to need a lot of help, but my voice confused him sufficiently that he’s willingly coming up tomorrow.”

  “Well done, son,” Peto said, tactfully not saying anything about Relf’s other task.

  But Relf would. “He’s in a uniform, Papa. He’s a corporal, and he’s in Edge. And he thinks Shem’s a manipulative idiot, and I’m a clueless lamb to follow him.”

  Relf had never seen his father try so hard to balance both joy and pain. The expression on his face vacillated between the two every second. “Again, well done, son,” he said, while Lilla howled with relief or grief, Relf wasn’t sure. Probably both.

  “It’s all right, Lilla,” Peto tried to assure her. “He’s got a place to live, clothes to wear, food to eat—”

  “Army food!” she cried in agony. “He’s living off of army food! Oh, my poor boy—”

  Relf and Peto exchanged the same look: We need to get her home, and NOW, while Mattilin tried uselessly to comfort her mother-in-law who sobbed that army food would make her Young Pere waste away.

  ---

  Shem smiled dismally at the Shins. At least Relf was home, and so was everyone else. Except for the one.

  The large group was making their way down to the Second Resting Station, but Shem held back on the pretext of making sure no one was left behind.

  He looked back, one more time, up the canyon, just in case—

  Go home, Shem. He’s not coming.

  Shem nodded once, offered up a prayer of protection from whatever was about to hit the world, and turned Silver to head into Salem. It was the 53rd Day of Weeding. Tomorrow, on the 54th Day, Offra and the last of the scouts would leave the world.

  And the world would be on its own.

  ---

  In the end, meeting up with the main body of soldiers was far easier than Corporal Shin anticipated. It seemed the sergeants were more worried about nervous soldiers sneaking out of the ranks than they were about eager soldiers sneaking in.

  All Shin had to do was grab his pack and march out the barracks before dawn with the rest of the soldiers starting on a quick march south.

  It was an offensive—just as he predicted—and it was headed to Idumea. Except, not everyone realized that. The soldiers were surprised that during Celebration Week Thorne “suddenly” decided to take nearly every last soldier who’d been serving for at least a year on a march south.

  But Corporal Shin was grinning with the knowledge that he’d figured it out. In about an hour, Sergeant Onus and Shin’s Twenty would be looking around for him in dismay, not realizing that he was on his way to reclaim the grandest city in the world.

  By midday meal he was at Province 4 where they picked up another one thousand soldiers, and by dinner time the troops, joined by soldiers from several other provinces, were nearly to Province 6. Rumors were flying as to what all of this meant, and finally at dinner Thorne announced to the collected army that they’d retake Idumea by next week, to shouts of joy. Dinner was a hurried affair, with soldiers invigorated with the idea of the offensive.

  They had a few more miles to go before they reached their camp for the night, and the excited state of the soldiers meant it was a quick march. So quick, a commanding colonel from Province 10 called out to those in his group that, at their rate, they could make it to Province 2 by the day after tomorrow.

  It used to be called Pools.

  The voice was back, on the right side of his head.

  That’s where I was born, you know. Pools is a much more descriptive name because . . . it actually has pools.

  Shin tried to ignore the words. They hadn’t been there for quite some time, and whenever they did come he could easily push them away. But when he was tired or bored, he discovered he couldn’t disregard them as well. So he tried instead to argue them away.

  It’s not Pools anymore. Nothing is as it was.


  Many things still are. And changing its name doesn’t change what it is, Sword Master. There was a sensation of cosmic smirking.

  Shin shook it off.

  Why didn’t you go home with Relf? Didn’t you hear me telling you to leave?

  You’re not there. You’re gone. I helped lower you into the ground and threw the dirt on top of you.

  That was only my shell. I’m still with you. But you’ve become more adept at ignoring me.

  Because I know you’re not really there. So leave now. I still have a few more miles before I get to sleep tonight.

  That’s why I thought you might like a little company. It’s been a long day already.

  What do you want?

  To let you know that I worry for you and that I won’t leave your side. I never have. What’s coming next is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

  I can handle it. Have you seen me with a sword?

  Haven’t you felt me when you hold it?

  Yes, I inherited your talent. Someone should put it to good use.

  You inherited ME, Young Pere.

  And you enjoy it, don’t you? Be honest, old man—you miss the army. You miss the conflict. That’s why you’re here.

  I thought you said I wasn’t here.

  You’re not. It’s just a long way to walk still. You’re better than nothing.

  I supposed I should thank you for that compliment.

  Don’t mention it. So, are you planning to help me?

  Are you planning to go home?

  Maybe someday.

  Then maybe I am.

  I need to make a good impression.

  Why?

  So I can become something more than a mere corporal. I want to become the youngest sergeant major ever.

  Why?

  Why not?

  Because there are far better things for you to become.

  Like what?

  A husband. A father—

  Oh please . . .

  You want adventure? Try living with a woman. Try controlling a toddler. Try reasoning with a teenager—

  Ha, ha, ha.

  I’m serious.

  Look, if you’re going to be this tedious, I’ll find someone else to talk to.

  Who else is there? There’s not to be any talking in the ranks.

  Anyone I want! Anyone I want to be in my head!

  Then I’ll just sit back here and watch, if that’s all right with you. Go ahead. Bring up someone else more entertaining.

  I will!

  I don’t see anyone yet.

  Be quiet! I’m sifting through the possibilities.

  Just don’t choose Lannard. What a dolt of a boy. And as a man? Pathetic. Your grandmother used to be his teacher. I used to be acquainted with his older brother. Took him in for incarceration more times than I care to remember. He’s still up to no good, living with his mother, drinking mead all day long. At least Lannard completed Command School, with an incredible amount of help. I think the only thing he did on his own was write his name on his papers. At least he can do impersonations. That one of me? Not too bad, really. I almost laughed. But that would have thrown you. You already looked like you’d seen a ghost. Didn’t need to hear one laughing—

  Would you please be quiet?

  Just passing time. Personally, I can’t think of anyone more entertaining than me.

  Shin grumbled.

  It’s not too late, you know. At nightfall, you can slip away into the trail along the canal and head back north. I can show you the way. It will be better for you if you go. Trust me. You really have no idea what’s coming.

  Exactly how are you entertaining?

  You haven’t been reading the markers for the distances lately.

  Well, thanks for nothing. Now I just did. If you hadn’t brought it up—

  Are you happy, Young Pere?

  What?

  Are you happy? Truly, deeply, satisfied with your life?

  Is anyone?

  Oh yes. I was. For many years. I wasn’t always, though. When I was your age I made mistakes as well, and I refused to deal with them.

  I haven’t made any mistakes.

  We all make mistakes. That’s the entire reason for The Test—to come to this world, discover our flaws, and fix them. We need to discover what our hearts really want, and change them to become what they’re supposed to be.

  Tedious, tedious . . . If I had any flaws, they’d only make me more interesting.

  So you’re perfect as you are?

  Of course.

  Ah. I see. Well. What can I say to a perfect man?

  How about, Let me get out of your way?

  I thought you wanted my help.

  I do, when I ask for it.

  You think I’m under your control?

  You are, completely. I imagine you, I control you.

  I see. Hmm. So why don’t you bring in someone else for a while? You know who seems to be an interesting man? Captain Lick.

  Lick? Why?

  He has an unusual background. Just how old do you think he is?

  Why? Maybe mid-twenties to thirty. He’s a captain. Must have gone through the university at Province 6 . . .

  Yes, that’s what one would think.

  What do you mean?

  I don’t know. I’m not really here, am I? I don’t know anything that you don’t . . .

  Come on! What do you know?

  All that I can tell you is that Thorne shouldn’t trust him farther than he can throw him with that lame right arm of his—

  Well, that was rude.

  —but Thorne knows that as well. I would stay far, far away from Lick. Especially when he’s near the general.

  Why? Why do you care? You almost sound like you’re worried for Thorne.

  Whatever affects you, Young Pere, worries me. And I’ve noticed you still haven’t kicked me out . .

  Chapter 33--“Is this real?”