“Dear Creator, please let it be enough,” Mahrree whispered as she saw more and more people streaming toward the house. Word had spread that dinner was at the Shin home, and many weary neighbors hadn’t eaten since last night.
But at least she hadn’t been alone in cooking. Mahrree looked down the line of cut logs with offerings of food set on them, and villagers queued to dish up food onto broken plates and small circles of sliced timbers.
Hours ago, women had arrived with a variety of ingredients and cooking supplies, and together during the afternoon they came up with ways to stretch the food they salvaged. Peto and a few other boys were tasked to dig holes for make-shift ovens for biscuits. And when two men brought by a deer that had died when it ended its terrified run during the second tremor by crashing into a barn, Mahrree thought they just might have enough to see them through the night.
She looked back toward the spit roasting the venison in her back garden and decided the spit should stay when all of this was over. It was an interesting and practical addition. They probably had enough to feed several hundred people, and that was what was coming.
“And dear Creator,” she murmured quietly, “look at them all—sitting together along the road and in gardens talking, sharing their experiences, giving comfort—I do believe this is the best Holy Day dinner we’ve ever had. You certainly seem to work in mysterious ways sometimes.”
Mahrree’s thoughts were disturbed by a horse approaching along the cobblestones. She looked up to see Shem’s mount with the most remarkable set of riders. In front of Shem, seated on the saddle, was her mother. Mahrree couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—she’d seen her mother on a horse.
Hycymum Peto’s face was flushed and she looked a bit winded. Shem nodded to Mahrree and redirected the horse to the alley behind the houses to avoid the crowd of people. Mahrree jogged to the back of her yard, weaving through villagers who helpfully trampled her weeds. She arrived just in time to see her mother turn bright red as Shem helped her off the horse.
“My, was that an experience!” Mrs. Peto said breathlessly to her daughter and leaned on her for support.
“Thank you, Shem,” Mahrree beamed at him. “Please, get something to eat before you head back.”
“I think I will. It smells a lot better here than the rations we’re handing out in the village green,” he grinned. “And by the way, the lieutenant colonel is still planning to come home tonight, but he’s a bit delayed. It seems there are some villagers at the amphitheater waiting for something to watch. Supposed to have been an obstacle course with bulls as motivation, and people are bored.”
Mahrree blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am. Their houses weren’t badly damaged, so they picked their ways through the smoldering remains of people’s businesses and shops as if the rubbish movers were just slow getting there today.”
“In the middle of Edge’s biggest crisis?” Mahrree exclaimed. “They’re waiting for a show? If anyone has any sense, those bulls are roasting in someone’s back garden right now!”
Shem shrugged in disappointed agreement. “That was what Perrin was hoping to accomplish. Last I heard, he was having some soldiers escort a group of drunken young men to where the old mill used to be until it crumbled. There were a few more groups of people heading to the arena looking for something interesting to watch, and Grandpy told me Perrin was waiting for them with that look in his eye. You know the one where no one leaves feeling very good about themselves?”
Mahrree smiled sadly in approval. “Well, when he comes, he comes. Plenty around here to keep us entertained.”
Shem nodded and resumed a more formal stance. “Well then, good evening to you. And Mrs. Peto,” he said to the older woman who had been staring steadily at him for the past five minutes, “I hope the ride wasn’t too rough.” He tipped his cap at her and she smiled vaguely.
As Shem strode off to get some dinner, Hycymum sat down primly on the log bench near the make-shift spit. Her shoulder-length curls were disheveled, her second-best apron was smudged with mud, and she wore her very best cloak which would take hours of soaking to get clean again. But amazingly, she didn’t seem to notice.
“Honestly, Mahrree, I just don’t ever remember such an experience! I’ll be thinking about this for weeks! Maybe even longer.” She fanned herself with her hand despite the cooling temperatures.
“I can imagine!” Mahrree said, putting her arm around her mother and hugging her. “I’ve been worried about you, wondering what you were going through all alone down there.”
Hycymum looked at Mahrree, baffled. Then a distant light flickered on. “Oh, you mean the land tremor! Yes, that was extraordinary too, wasn’t it?”
Mahrree stared at her mother who was still flushed. Hycymum seemed to try to pick out Shem among the villagers, but he was already lost in the crowd. People had made way for the tall and muscular soldier to get to the front of the line.
“Mother,” Mahrree began slowly, “what were you talking about?”
Hycymum went pink. “Do you know how long it’s been since a handsome young man had his arm around me? Ah, Mahrree, I now see the appeal of army men! So strong, so powerful. Sergeant Zenos is still unmarried, right?”
“Mother!” Mahrree sputtered. “He just turned thirty-four a few weeks ago, and you’re sixty-three! You could be his mother!”
Hycymum looked at her daughter, and Mahrree noticed her eyes appeared a bit vacant. “Hmm. I supposed that could be a problem. Does my hair at least look nice?” She patted her tousled curls.
Mahrree pursed her lips as she evaluated her mother’s stability. She wasn’t looking too secure. Something was definitely collapsing somewhere. “Mother, did you at all hit your head today? Because that’s the only excuse I can think of for you right now. When was the last time you ate something?”
“Well, yes, I did hit my head sometime this morning. And no one would let me back into my house! I’m not sure why.” She looked around. “It’s terribly bright in here, isn’t it? Why is there a skinny pig roasting in your garden? Did you invite all these people, or did they just show up? That seems awfully rude. I didn’t get an invitation. You should put some basil on that hog. Improve the flavor. Could take a few treefulls, though. Let me go find some.”
She stood unsteadily and noticed the condition of the house.
“Wait—Mahrree, are you remodeling your house? Without my advice?”
Mahrree gently pushed her mother back down before she crumpled on her own. “Jaytsy!” she called. “Come sit with your grandmother while I get her something to eat. I think she’s been without food for a little too long.”
Half an hour later Mahrree sighed in relief when she recognized her husband’s horse of the week coming down the road, just as the sun was setting in the west and casting golden hues on everything around them. She’d been standing on the side of the house waving goodbye to some satisfied neighbors, secure in the knowledge that she’d filled a plate to overflowing and hid it in the kitchen for Perrin before the last of the morsels were devoured. Even now there were only a few crumbs left here and there, and a bony carcass in the back garden. But the northern neighborhoods of Edge had full bellies. There was only one more to fill, and she smiled as her husband saluted her casually and rode up to the house.
But her smile froze in place when the last beams of sunlight illuminated who was sharing his ride behind him.
Qualipoe Hili.
“Oh Perrin, what were you thinking?” she murmured under her breath.
The twenty-two-year-old was so scrawny that two of him could’ve hidden behind Perrin’s broad shoulders. He hadn’t worn silk shirts for a few years, and now seemed to be wearing something so tattered under his soiled jacket that he may have taken it from a ruined house. Pinching a shirt would have been nothing compared to how much he’d stolen for Guarders over the years.
Mahrree clenched her fist as Poe peered cautiously around her husband. Tod
ay of all days he chose to make his return. Mahrree grumbled to herself that Edge probably quaked at the thought of housing him again. Of all nights to bring home a thief, Perrin had to choose this one when not one single house could be secured.
Her husband tried to catch her eye, but Mahrree was staring only at Poe when the horse came to a stop.
Then again, on such a night, how could she even think about turning away someone in need, even if that was a someone adept at filling every need he might possibly have with his proven snatch-and-run? She plastered on a welcoming smile, hoping the shadows of the coming evening hid her concern.
“Mr. Hili!” she delivered her old greeting as warmly as she could. “What’s the news, Poe?”
Poe slid off the horse and gave her a timid smile. While he stood at average height, he was skinnier than any man she’d ever seen. His black hair was a bit long and unkempt, his light-brown skin even darker for having been outside so much, but his brown eyes were somehow different than she remembered: a little brighter, less concealing, and almost honest.
He nervously nodded to her. “The lieutenant colonel said I could probably find something to eat here. I hope that’s all right with you?”
He scanned the house quickly, and Mahrree tried to push down the suspicion that he was casing it.
Poe sighed. “It really hasn’t changed a bit. That’s good to see. Except it seems a little shorter than I remember.”
“We’re adding a new roofline. Made the decision this morning, in fact,” Mahrree explained. Then, with all the enthusiasm she could find after the long, dreary day, she said, “Welcome back to Edge! Jaytsy,” she turned to her daughter who had been running up to greet her father but stopped in surprise when she recognized Poe. “Fetch the dinner I hid for your father, and put some on a second plate. I know there’s more than enough.”
Jaytsy looked apprehensively at Poe, but he smiled at her. She darted into the darkening back porch.
Poe shook his head and let out a low whistle. “She’s certainly grown up in the past two years, hasn’t she? Used to try to feed me weeds when she was a toddler, if I remember correctly.”
Mahrree cleared her throat and glared at her husband, hoping he’d notice how Poe’s gaze lingered at where Jaytsy had been. One of these days—and it had better be soon—Perrin would realize his daughter was turning heads left and right. He still seemed to want to believe she was still the toddler who loved to scream at him.
Perrin looked at the thin young man, then in the direction he was still staring—
For once Perrin saw it, and his eyes enlarged in worry. “You look tired, Poe,” he abruptly changed the subject. “Go sit down on the bench by . . . is that a spit? In my back garden? Well, it looks like there are remnants of something for you to pick at for now.”
“Yes, sir!” Poe said amiably and left for the back garden, weaving deftly between stumps and rocks as if he were used to picking his way quickly through dark and unpredictable terrain, because he was.
Perrin turned to his wife who had just sprouted a new steam vent of her own. He pretended not to see her fuming. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t he? His eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them in a long time. He’s been spending some time in Moorland and Mountseen, but came home just two days ago. The Hilis weren’t too thrilled to see him, though. I think he slept in the village green last night.”
Mahrree tried her one-eyebrow-raised look. In the growing dark she was sure it was almost menacing.
“Getting pretty good at that,” Perrin gestured at her face. “Need to work on the nervous twitch, though. Kind of ruins the effect. Hmm, now where’s my daughter with my food?” He rubbed his hands together as if absolutely nothing else in the world was wrong, except for his tardy dinner. “I’m starving.”
“Perrin Shin!” Mahrree hissed when she was sure none of the departing villagers could hear them, “Why is Qualipoe Hili in my back garden? And where do you suggest he spend the night?”
“Right here,” Perrin said soberly. “With us. He’s agreed to be our guard tonight.”
“Are you insane?” she breathed in fury. “Because I really don’t need two crazy people tonight. I don’t. First my mother comes here with fantasies of becoming Mrs. Shem Zenos, and now you’ve brought home a known thief to guard us?”
“It’s all right. He’ll have my sword.” He squinted at her. “What do you mean, Mrs. Shem Zenos?”
Mahrree wasn’t about to be deterred. “You’re giving him your sword? Poe Hili, right? Do you know how much that steel is worth? Perrin, is that wise?”
“Yes it is, since he’s going to be one of my new privates. He’s going to enlist formally once things calm down a bit. Your mother thinks she’s marrying Shem?”
“No, of course not. She was just a little confused and fell in love with her rescuer,” said Mahrree hurriedly to get that out of the way. “She’s already asleep on Peto’s mattress we brought outside. And yes, the house is secure enough to venture into, but I don’t think we should sleep there yet. But Perrin—”
She glanced to the back garden and saw Jaytsy hesitantly hand Poe a plate of food. The spark was back in his eyes. Jaytsy ignited fires in the eyes of most men ages fourteen to fifty, but she was as clueless to that fact as her father was.
“—how do we know we can trust Poe?”
“I don’t,” he admitted, watching closely as the most prolific thief of Edge eyed one of Perrin’s most prized possessions. “But if no one does, what hope will he have? Mahrree, he helped a great deal today. He was as brave as any soldier and ventured into houses no one else dared to—”
“He’s had plenty of practice!” she snapped.
Perrin ignored that. “—and he never did anything to lose my trust. He said he came home to get a new start, and I believe him. I really want to believe him. At the fort I can watch and control him.”
“But you can’t control him when you’re asleep in your garden!”
Perrin sighed. “He was a good boy, Mahrree. Remember? He told me his fondest memories were of coming to our house each afternoon for your After School Care.”
“That’s a very sweet thing to say. And you fell for it.”
“Mahrree, give him a chance,” he said squeezing her shoulder. “Just one. If he was our son, wouldn’t you wish someone would take him in?”
“Our son wouldn’t be like him!”
“Mahrree,” Perrin’s tone was both admonishing and pleading. “We’re all family, right? In that way, he is our son.”
Mahrree closed her eyes in aggravation. It was easy to quote The Writings to others, but was quite another thing to have someone use The Writings back at you.
But she knew he was right. She didn’t feel any threat from Poe. There was actually something in his eyes that wasn’t there since he was ten years old.
“Honestly, Mahrree, what do we have of value that he would steal? Besides the sword?” Perrin asked quietly. “And everyone would recognize it anyway.”
“True,” Mahrree reluctantly conceded, looking up into his dark eyes that always seemed to convince her to see things his way, luckily for him. “Not a profitable market for our old books either, I suppose. Besides, you and Shem are experts in the field of Tracking Poe Hili.”
He winked at her. “I knew you’d see things my way. As usual.”
---
No one rested well that night.
Every neighborhood in Edge had the appearance of an adventurous fishing trip; people shared stories late into the night as they sat around fires roasting pieces of animals until the outsides were burned but the insides were still raw and chewy.
But Camp Edge included amenities most families weren’t accustomed to. Smaller land tremors that the world forgot to include in the morning’s events were tossed to the surface as afterthoughts to rock terrified children and jumpy adults. Unnerving crunches of shifting rock and occasional house collapses broke the normal quiet of the night. Temperatures plummeted to near f
reezing. And, in the case of the Shin family, a long sofa appeared outside near the fire in the back garden.
The sofa moved to its new position while Mahrree and Jaytsy carefully picked their way to Jaytsy’s room to retrieve her straw mattress and as many blankets and coats as they could find in the storage wardrobe. By the time Jaytsy had maneuvered her mattress over the debris in the dark house, and Mahrree made her way to the back garden with her arms loaded with things to keep them warm, the sofa was there. Slumped on either side, with their arms folded and their eyes closed, were Peto and Perrin.
“My . . . my . . . my sofa!” Mahrree wailed, but not too loudly as to awake her mother or to startle the neighbors trying to fashion beds in their back gardens. “How could you? It’ll get ruined out here, especially if it rains!”
Perrin opened one eye and looked at the cold starry sky, without either of the two moons lighting it. “Not tonight,” he mumbled and closed his eye.
Peto peeked open an eye in apology, glanced at his father for his cue of what to do next, then squeezed shut both of his eyes and pretended to snore.
Future Private Hili looked pleadingly at Mahrree from his spot on the bench across the fire from them. Perrin’s sword glinted in the firelight and the hilt rested lightly in Poe’s bony hand. “I’m sorry Mrs. Shin. I was told that I didn’t see any of it. But I promise it’s the last thing I won’t see tonight.” His eyebrows furrowed to work out if that was actually what he meant to say.
“But, but,” she spluttered hopelessly at her husband. “It’s . . . my sofa!”
Perrin sighed impatiently and opened both eyes. “And where do you propose we sleep tonight if not on the sofa? You best get used to it. We won’t be in our bed for quite some time. Staying in the house isn’t an option until we inspect it further. Now, unless you have any better ideas, give me a blanket.”
Mahrree kicked crossly at a clump of dirt and pouted like a four-year-old.
After all they’d done today for everyone else, now her beloved sofa was dragged outside and exposed to the elements. It was foolish and completely irrational to be upset about it. But she stood there obstinately, her arms full of blankets she wasn’t about to surrender, staring at her husband who now deliberately put a dirty boot on the armrest.
She gave him her best glower.
He reflected it right back.
Jaytsy and Peto knew what to do when these occasional stand-offs occurred: don’t look at either parent.
There was arguing, they knew, which usually resolved itself in their parents making various excuses to head upstairs to their bedroom. Mahrree always hoped they were subtle when they came back downstairs a little while later, but she was sure their smirking while smoothing down a skirt or buttoning a skipped button was obvious.
Poor Jaytsy figured out the hard way what “arguing” meant. A couple of years ago, after Perrin had chased Mahrree up the stairs to “settle this,” Jaytsy quietly followed them a few minutes later. She timidly opened the bedroom door and said, “Mother, I have another point for your side—”
That was all she got out before she emitted a yelp of shock and slammed the door. Perrin had laughed for several minutes, but Mahrree felt nearly as mortified as her stunned daughter, who couldn’t look either of her parents in the eyes for several weeks.
At least she knew they actively loved each other.
Then, just a couple of moons ago when they were resolving issues again, Mahrree heard the familiar gait of her son coming up the stairs. “Father, I forgot. I know you’re trying to finish your argument and everything, but I need you to sign something for school—”
“Peto, DON’T!” Jaytsy had yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
Perrin shook in silent laughter, but Mahrree cringed in dread that he’d open the door, and she wondered why they again in their haste had forgotten to lock it.
“Why not?” Peto called down to this sister from the landing.
“If you hate seeing them kiss, then I promise that what they’re doing right now will give you nightmares!”
Mahrree wasn’t sure if Peto fully understood the meaning of arguing, but he didn’t open the door that evening, and it gave Perrin and Mahrree something new to argue about: who was responsible for making sure the door is bolted.
But then—then there was the occasional fighting. And that never finished with a trip up the stairs. It usually involved the two of them glaring so heatedly that once Peto, trying to lighten the moment, pretended to warm his hands near them, only to find their furious looks pointed to him. Not even Jaytsy knew how to get him out of that one, so he slunk away to the kitchen where his sister joined him soon after, and they sat in there for over an hour while Perrin and Mahrree snapped and growled like caged wolves.
It had been a couple of years since their last all-out fight, but when one occurred, Peto and Jaytsy knew to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible until the storm blew over.
Jaytsy now looked up at the stars as if remembering it was her task to count them, and Peto suddenly became fascinated by a thread hanging from his jacket.
Poe picked up on their strategy and turned to look at the dark alley behind him. Hycymum snored peacefully on her grandson’s mattress.
But Mahrree and Perrin glared deep into each other’s eyes across the back garden.
Realizing the stars weren’t going anywhere, Jaytsy dropped her mattress on the ground, turned to her mother, and slowly pulled a thin blanket from her arms and laid it on her bed.
Peto nodded encouragingly at Jaytsy and she started to pull another blanket from Mahrree’s arms. Mahrree shifted her glare just long enough to stop Jaytsy in her effort.
She gave her brother a You’re on your own look and sat on the mattress, wrapping the thin blanket around her arms that still shivered under her cloak.
Peto slipped off the sofa and snuck cautiously past his infuriated mother into the house.
“Mahrree,” Perrin finally broke the uneasy silence, “I’m tired. So are you. We’ll discuss this in the morning. Now, bring the blankets over here.”
“Get your boot off my sofa first,” she said coolly.
“After everything today, you’re really worried about a little dirt on this thing?” He leaned forward, but stubbornly kept his leg on the armrest, which made for an awkward straddle only the acrobats of Idumea could have held for very long. Perrin’s eye twitched.
Inwardly, Mahrree smiled. She was going to win this fight, one way or another.
Peto reappeared at the door wrapped in his heavy blanket and paused, wondering if it was safer in the house or outside where his parents both seemed upon the verge of battle.
“Today over sixty people lost their lives,” Perrin said heavily. “We’ll find additional bodies tomorrow, I’m sure. Countless villagers lost their homes. Half of the shops in Edge burned to the ground. Livestock is wandering and spooked. I don’t know how much food’s been lost, but we may be in trouble in a few weeks. I still don’t know in what condition the fort’s reserves are in. The forest is more active now than ever before. And if you happened to look beyond the forest to the mountains behind us, you would’ve seen smoke rising from the top of Mt. Deceit. What that means is anyone’s guess. The smoke looks wrong for a forest fire. I don’t even want to consider yet what the condition of the other villages, or Idumea, may be right now. Maybe they were hit even harder. And in the back of my mind is the awareness that the Guarders just might be a bit more desperate than we are, and we’re now highly susceptible to new attacks!”
Poe clutched the hilt of the sword more securely and glanced about the dark shadows around him.
Mahrree frowned at Perrin’s list of troubles and wondered why he insisted on adding their sofa to it—
“And you, Mahrree Shin, are fretting over dirt on a piece of furniture? Now,” said Perrin, his tone sharpening, “I’m tired. Morning’s going to come early, and I have a full day of digging through rubble ahead of me. Give me a blanket
now,” he snarled, “and let’s get some sleep!”
Jaytsy immediately lay down and Peto jumped back to his side of the sofa and curled up in a ball under his blanket. He hastily kicked off his boots and looked at his mother imploringly.
Mahrree refused to move.
The sofa is to serve us, he would say in a moment, not the other way around. Don’t worship the furniture.
He would be right. And that made her angrier.
In reluctant resignation, Mahrree looked at the bundle she held and dropped it on the ground. She felt her husband’s eyes still on her as she pulled out his new woolen overcoat and laid it over her mother, hoping the thick weave and lining would be enough to keep her warm. Next she took Perrin’s old overcoat still sporting some of the insignias and patches, and brought it to Poe.
“You keep this fire going, Poe,” she said as she helped his slight frame into the coat that was several sizes too big. “It’s going to freeze tonight. If you need anything you come tell me, all right?”
Poe nodded to her gratefully and glanced down at the patches. He fingered one of them in admiration before wrapping the excess of the coat around to overlap his body.
Perrin still watched her, his eyes trying to burn a hole into her conscience, but she refused to look at him.
She laid another thick blanket on her grateful daughter to supplement the thin one, and tossed Peto’s dark blue baby wrap, that had somehow managed to come along for the ride, on to her son’s head.
With two down blankets in her hands, Mahrree slowly walked over to her husband who still kept his position on the sofa. His glare had become etched in his face.
“Get that boot off the sofa, and you can have a blanket,” she said evenly.
Perrin pursed his lips as if considering the offer.
Mahrree knew he was fully aware of what that look did to her, but she wasn’t about to be defeated that easily.
She took a step closer. “I realize you spend all day on a horse, but even when you were Peto’s age I doubt you were that limber. You may pretend not to hear it, but I can. Your thigh muscles are screaming in agony. Move your leg!” She finally smiled.
Peto snorted in his blanket and Jaytsy giggled.
Perrin took a breath and said, with his voice tinged with pain, “I really wished I could move it, but Mahrree—I’m stuck!” His face finally released the glare and twisted into a painful chuckle. “Help me, wife—I’m getting old!”
“Forty-three is hardly ancient,” Mahrree laughed quietly and carefully lifted his very stiff leg up and off.
“Owowowow!” Perrin whimpered as he rubbed his thigh. He noticed Poe smirking. “Not a word of this, Qualipoe Hili, to anyone. Especially Sergeant Zenos.”
Hili straightened up. “Yes, sir. And sir, how many more of your secrets will I be asked to keep tonight? Just so I know?”
Perrin chuckled. “Just remember, I have my fair share of secrets about you too, Mr. Out All Night.”
“I’m not that anymore, sir,” Poe said with conviction and glanced at Mrs. Shin now sitting next to her husband and positioning a blanket around her.
Mahrree nodded at him, hoping that was true.
But Perrin smiled, without any doubt. “Now Hili, for starters, I’ve been told I snore—”
A polite cough from behind the sofa twisted Perrin around.
Mr. Hersh stood at the fence that divided their properties. “Actually, Lieutenant Colonel, that’s not much of a neighborhood secret,” he smiled. But the commander was not who interested him.
With his eyes now as steely as the sword, Mr. Hersh gestured to Poe. “Young man, I trust you’ll keep an eye out for everyone tonight?” His words were heavy with meaning. He knew full well who sat armed in the garden next to his.
“Absolutely, sir!” Poe said resolutely.
And a part of Mahrree actually believed him.
---
In Idumea, eighty miles away to the south, Joriana Shin massaged her hands. Standing before her, across the massive desk her husband kept in his office, were General Cush and two lieutenants. Their bleak countenances told Joriana all she needed to know.
Still, that wasn’t about to keep her from asking. “So we know of eleven places in the city that were heavily damaged,” she checked her meticulous notes again.
“Yes,” General Aldwyn Cush said patiently, while the two younger officers flanking him shifted in place.
“And Chairman Mal’s been notified?”
“Yes, he was most alarmed. He’s demanding updates.”
“Good. And you’ve interviewed all of the soldiers who were helping with the recovery efforts?”
“Yes, Joriana.”
She checked off a few items, reluctantly. “And we’re sure everyone at the garrison was asked?”
General Cush regarded her with sympathy in his tired eyes. “Joriana, there are thousands of soldiers—”
“Everyone at the garrison was asked?!”
Cush glanced to the aide at his left. “Go get my wife,” he said in quiet undertones. “Mrs. Shin is going to need someone here with her tonight.” In a louder voice he said, “Colonel Thorne sent out messengers everywhere, asking, and all day long. Joriana, it’s dark now, and there’s little—”
“I don’t care that it’s dark, Aldwyn!” she seethed. “All I want to know is, where’s my husband?!”
Cush sighed miserably. “That’s what all of us want to know, too.”
---
The sun would be rising in just a few minutes, but Poe Hili was more than ready for bed. He found himself repeatedly nodding and banging his head awake on the ornate steel hilt of the sword that supported his leaning body. He’d been that way all night, fighting to remain conscious to pay attention. It’d been a while since he was Mr. Out All Night.
In the dirt in front of him, he kept tally marks with the tip of the sword: how many new tremors, how many distant rumbling noises that may mean another house had crumbled, and how many attempts someone made to sneak into the neighborhood. The marks were thirteen, nine, and—fortunately—zero.
His neck and back were stiff with exhaustion, but he was sure he’d remained awake most of the night, that nothing important had escaped his notice. The climbing, digging, and running of the day before had taken a mighty toll on his body. If he was going to be in the army, he was going to have to bulk up and shape up. Dizzy with fatigue, he worried that this was how soldiers felt every morning.
He hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until he felt fingers on his hand prying away the sword.
Poe leaped to his feet, kicking an awkward spray of gravel, and found himself wrestling for the hilt with Lieutenant Colonel Shin.
“At ease, Private! I’m relieving you of duty.”
“I wasn’t asleep, sir! I promise. I kept watch all night.”
“I know, I know,” Shin assured him. “I was up enough myself to see you doing your part. And I thank you, Private Hili. Now I’m ordering you to sleep.”
He sheathed the sword and put a hand on Poe’s shoulder. The weight of it nearly melted Poe into the ground.
“You’ll meet me in the village center after midday meal, Hili,” Shin told him, “then we’ll put you back to work. The men are on rotating shifts. I want a group of soldiers on duty every hour patrolling and working. But everyone needs to rest, or they’ll be of no help to the village. You’ll be able to sleep well here. The sofa’s available,” he added with a smile.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be there. Midday meal.”
Poe staggered over to the now empty sofa and sat uncertainly on it, wondering what position would keep it clean. His body leaned to one side and he couldn’t resist the pull to lay his head on the cushion. A moment later, or maybe it was an hour, he smelled food and opened his eyes to see Mrs. Shin holding a plate of steaming something.
“Is it a good morning, Poe?” she asked. “Try these. My mother calls them craw-sants. She claims the vent in the road is the
perfect heating element. She has plans for today, so you best return this evening to see what she’s cooked up.”
“Yes, Mrs. Shin. I saw her get up some time ago and sneak into your kitchen.” Poe tried to smile.
“Yes, she’s quite back to normal again, although I’m not sure she’ll be able to face Master Sergeant Zenos anytime soon,” she said more to herself. “My mother loves a cooking challenge. She just may well revolutionize the way everyone looks at steam!”
Poe took a large bite of the twisted bread which was surprisingly light.
“Pretty good, isn’t it?” Mrs. Shin said, ignoring the crumbs on the cushion.
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled wearily.
“Poe, how about you sleep first, then we’ll feed you later, hmm?”
Poe nodded and his eyes closed again. He stretched his legs but was alarmed when he felt someone lifting them up. He sat up quickly to see Mrs. Shin placing his feet on the end of the sofa.
“Much more comfortable that way.” She patted his knee kindly, ignoring the fact that his boots were dropping dried mud on the cloth.
Poe lay back down and a small, thick blanket, made of the same cloth as the overcoat he still wore, covered his eyes.
“That will keep things dark for you,” he heard a motherly voice say.
“Thank you,” he whispered as everything became blissfully dark and still.
A blanket was placed on top of him, and every last bit of pain slipped away. Not only that, but his worries and dread seemed to fade as well. For the first time in too many years he felt, accompanying the fatigue that was slowly engulfing him, a sense of comfort, of depth, of . . . of lightness. He didn’t know where it came from, but there was nothing else like it. Just as the blanket on his face told him it was all right to rest, the feeling in his mind assured him things would be different now.
Maybe the lightness was forgiveness. He’d heard a rector talk about it once, and Lieutenant Colonel Shin mentioned it a few times when he visited Poe.
It was a distinct sense of, It will be all right. You can make it right, right here.
He mumbled as he drifted to sleep, “It’s so good to be home, Ma.”
Mahrree walked quickly away before anyone could see her wiping the tears off her cheeks.
---
The dark figure walking up into the forest that night looked around him nervously. Nothing was acting as it should.
Things that used to bubble were now spurting.
Things that spurted were now gushing.
Things that gushed were now quiet.
And areas that used to be quiet were now emitting groans and smells that they never had before.
He was relieved to reach the warm spring that, for the moment, mystifyingly ran cold. He sat on a log and sighed heavily.
A few minutes later another body joined him. “Is it as confused down there as it is up here?”
The figure nodded. “Nothing’s the same! You may have to make a new map.”
“That’s what we thought,” said the other man, dressed in green and brown mottled clothing. “Are you all right, Shem?”
Shem nodded again. “Remarkable two days. The devastation is terrible. Every house has been affected. Found sixty dead the first day, another twenty-four dead today. Yesterday. I don’t even know what time it is anymore.” He exhaled and rubbed his eyes.
His companion patted him on the back. “As long as you’re safe. Many people were wondering.”
“Oh, I’m safe, all right. So are the Shins. Should be an interesting next few weeks, though.”
“Understood. How about we meet only if something arises? I can’t imagine anything else will be happening except cleaning up for a while. The whole northern world seems to have been affected.”
“Sounds good,” Shem said, massaging his bleary eyes again. He stood. “I’ve got to get more sleep before the morning. Just tell everyone I didn’t suffer anything during the land tremor other than surprise when a terrified private I just finished giving a night tour of the forest to ran into my quarters and jumped into my bunk with me.”
---
Joriana wasn’t as skittish tonight as she was the evening before. Perhaps the fact that she hadn’t had more than an hour’s sleep did something to steel her resolve, and make the men standing in front of her recoil as her voice became shriller. That was the only excuse the hardened officers could come up with.
Scattered over the broad desk were maps, detailed notes, and a hand that shakily made markings all over them.
“So we can eliminate the old Dripping Stream development and Zebra Eztates, along with the hat district—”
A long, low sigh caused her to raise her head, and the piercing nature of her gaze made two captains and a major take a cautionary step backward.
However, it had no effect on the colonel, the commander of the garrison. “Mrs. Shin, I don’t know how many more times we need to go over this. None of the reports has changed since dinner time. He’s simply disappeared.”
Joriana stood her full height, impressive for a woman, but nothing to the colonel. “Colonel Thorne,” she said pointedly, “I don’t care if the city has been inspected upside down and inside out. Something has happened to my husband—your High General—and I insist, no, I order that you continue searching for him!”
Colonel Thorne had the audacity to scoff at a woman in high distress. “You order me?”
The captains and the major had already assumed placating stances, as if eager to rush out into the night and continue their search, but Colonel Thorne merely folded his arms and cocked his head.
In the corner of the room, silent until now, sat a plump and overflowing woman, who barely squeezed into the cushioned arm chair that contained her. She cleared her throat and the colonel frowned at her.
“Qayin, please,” she said to her son-in-law. “You know my husband has already insisted on another’s day searching.”
Thorne blinked away from her and looked steadily at Joriana. “I take my orders from General Cush who, as pointed out, has already outlined search patterns for tomorrow. So unless there’s anything else, Mrs. Shin?” he said in a manner that suggested that at this late hour, the answer best be no.
Joriana tilted her head at him. “No, that is all.”
After the men had filed out, the major pausing to send an encouraging nod to Mrs. Shin, Joriana sagged into her husband’s chair, her head in her hands.
Mrs. Cush struggled out of her chair and rushed to her friend’s side.
“Where is he?” Joriana sobbed quietly. “Where is he?”
---
Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.
“So where is he?” Brisack said, mystified.
Mal shrugged. “If I could answer that, so many of my plans for the testing and trials of the Shin family would be finalized. But as it is?” He shook his head, perplexed.
Brisack rubbed his chin. “Odd to just vanish like that.” He peered over at his companion. “You didn’t . . . you didn’t, uh, issue any orders, did you?”
Mal scoffed. “I was about to ask you the same thing, wondered if you were trying to get an unfair start on our research by playing, ‘Where’s Relf Shin?’ By the way, did they ever find that contestant?”
“Oh, yes,” Brisack droned. “Apparently he got bored waiting to be found, downed some mead, and fell drunk into a wagon. Woke up in Orchards with a broken leg to see an unfamiliar woman who promptly punched him and demanded restitution for her goat.”
Mal blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Brisack rolled his eyes. “No one knows. I’ve told them I will no longer take forensics requests for people involved in those arena shows. In my opinion, these new contests are a good way of eliminating those whom Nature would destroy anyway. Let the idiots speed up the process all on their own. Not only are they a waste of my time, but a waste of my mind.”
“I’m rather surprised you haven’t been asked to
help with the Shin situation.”
“Oh, I was. I did. But there’s absolutely no evidence. I spent hours on it yesterday evening. Mrs. Shin showed me everywhere her husband had been the day before the tremor. Said they went to bed that night, she woke up to feel the bed swaying in the tremor, but there was no Relf. His uniform was missing, as were his boots, so he’d got up early and went somewhere, but there’s no evidence of anything amiss.”
Mal furrowed his brow. “Relf’s not the kind to . . . you know, find a little something interesting on the side? Got caught up somewhere else, with someone else?”
Brisack scowled. “He’s sixty-eight, Nicko. While he may find someone else interesting, I have a hard time believing another woman would feel likewise about him.”
“Just looking at possibilities.”
“I suggested to Joriana that she send for Perrin—” Brisack began, but hesitated when he heard Mal’s chuckling.
“Ah, how nice, how convenient. You just can’t wait to meet the man, can you?”
Brisack shifted in his chair. “I suggested that only because Joriana is so distraught. She needs someone stronger to comfort her instead of Mrs. Cush. The woman seems more interested in the furnishings than in helping her friend. But, Joriana refused,” the good doctor said with obvious disappointment. “Said she won’t send him a message until she knew what kind of news to send. Shockingly stalwart response, I thought.”
“You just seem to be enamored with all women called Mrs. Shin, aren’t you?” Mal said.
Brisack glared. “I’m merely gathering information, Nicko. In order to create a truly entertaining test with some bite, we need to know exactly who we’re biting! But,” he sighed sadly, “not until we find out what happened to High General Shin.”
Chapter 4 ~ “Your renovations will have to wait, Mrs. Shin.”