He acknowledged my observation with a tilt of his head. 'True, but I don't just see humans as something put here to prop up my position in the world.' He stopped then and smiled like he'd just made some new discovery. 'That's it; that's how you do it. You only allow yourselves to see humans as tools; you don't get to know them, not as people.'
'I did, once.'
'And look how that turned out. . ' He laughed. 'You, my queen, are a mess.'
Angry, I placed my palms on the lip of the table and straightened my arms. 'I'm not your queen.'
'No, you're not.'
The energy was back. . thick, angry, and throbbing.
Jack, however, didn't stand. He just sat at the table and glowered.
I waited, my feet braced.
He bit the inside of his cheek and stared. 'You can't have it both ways. You can't deny the sons and expect us to recognize your authority. You have no authority with us.'
I flexed my hands. His refusal to engage physically was frustrating; it made me feel awkward standing there, waiting to fight an enemy who refused to fight back.
I spun and paced toward the Jeep.
'Don't you want to know the rest? Don't you want to know what I know about the Amazons?'
I stopped and turned slowly, gravel grinding under my foot. Taking a cue from Jack, I gritted my teeth, tamped down my anger, and sat.
He stared at me for a moment. I could see I'd misjudged. He was angry also. It simmered in his dark eyes, not just anger but a threat too. Like he was one straw away from losing control and wanted me to know it.
Squaring my shoulders, I lifted my chin and let him know I met his challenge. 'What do you know, or think you know, about the Amazons?'
He flattened his hands. 'More than I want to.'
The anger pulsed between us for another second, then seemed to sputter and die. He huffed out a breath and glanced down. When he looked back up, the darker emotion was gone, replaced by resolve. 'As I said, we have sons outside all of the Amazon safe camps. We have sons watching as many Amazons as we can-including the high council.'
Not believing him, I smiled. 'Really? The high council? And how exactly are you watching all these other Amazons? You follow them from town to town? You don't think Amazons would notice if the same tattooed guy showed up everywhere they did?'
'Amazons are like whales, geese. . all migrating animals. You've been doing the same things forever. You travel the same routes. Work the same jobs.' He lifted a shoulder with arrogant ease. 'You're predictable. We don't have to follow you around. You come to us, over and over.'
I moved my jaw to the side.
He leaned forward. 'You work at carnivals. We work at carnivals. You visit fairs. We set up fairs. Everywhere you are; so are we.'
It was a struggle not to let emotion show. We were watched, everywhere. . for how long? 'The farmer's market?' I asked.
He nodded. 'Someone direct you to your spot today? Buy some tomatoes? It's really not that hard.'
My first thought was that I'd have to tell Lao, that we'd have to find some other way to make money. Then I saw how Jack was watching me, the knowing expression on his face.
There was no other way. There was no avoiding them.
'What about the high council?' I asked. Honestly, I didn't even know where they met. The group wasn't like a safe camp. They didn't live all together, and the location of their meetings changed from time to time. I assumed they went to various state campgrounds, but honestly didn't know. As far as I knew, only the high-council members themselves did.
He tapped the pads of each of his fingers against the tabletop, one after the other. Made me wonder what he'd done with his pen-if he was missing it.
'What if I told you the high council knew about us, was working with us?'
'I'd say you were a liar.'
'How many Amazons are on the council, Zery?'
I could see he knew the answer. I didn't bother answering.
'Twelve, right? And to get on the council you have to be what? Weak? Nonopinionated? Not an Amazon?' One corner of his mouth lifted. 'You think they all get along? All agree? You think just because you hear the 'final' decision that there wasn't talk of doing something different before that?'
To be honest, I hadn't thought about it at all. 'The final decision is all that matters,' I said, my voice calm, bordering on bored.
'Really? You think that?'
I didn't like the way he was watching me, didn't like what his slightly amused expression meant.
'I do,' I replied, keeping my face straight, confident.
'So the members who disagree with the majority, who think killing that baby is the wrong choice, they don't matter.'
My mind stuttered.
'Majority wins, might makes right, and the other Amazons, those who didn't win, have no value at all?'
'I didn't say they didn't have value.' Of course they did; they were still Amazons.
He tapped his fingers again, just the middle ones this time. 'You ever been in the minority, Zery?'
'There is no minority in the tribe. We all believe the same thing; it's what keeps us strong.'
'Not anymore.'
I wasn't sure what he was saying. . believing the same thing didn't keep us strong or that we didn't all believe the same thing. But I had already faced that, realized we were all individuals. I just hadn't worked it out to the next step, that if we disagreed on the little things, we might disagree on the big ones too. The ones that might split not just the council, but the tribe.
'Maybe all the Amazons don't agree. Maybe some think working with the sons is smarter, better for the tribe, than trying to fight us. You're the Indians, Zery, and we're the white flood. We aren't going away.'
I snorted. 'Like working with whites helped the Indians. I'd rather die my way than have everything I stand for and believe in stripped away from me.'
'Yes, you are definitely Geronimo rather than Washakie. Most Amazons are, but what makes you think the enemy is only outside the Amazons? What makes you think the sons are the sole threat? As I said, we've watched you, we know about you-things you don't even know about yourselves.'
'You're saying there are Amazons who want to damage the rest of us? Why?'
'Not damage. Change.'
'You want us to change.'
'True, but we aren't the only ones. And we don't even want you to change that much. We just want the tribe to acknowledge us, to work with us-to realize they don't need to kill and maim their own children to stay safe.'
A pain began to pound inside my head, right behind my eyes. What he was saying didn't make sense, or maybe it made too much sense.
I stood. I was done with the conversation. I was ready to go home where things made sense. I'd call the council from there and tell them everything. See what was true.
And I wasn't taking the son with me.
He must have sensed it. He didn't follow me. When I reached the Jeep, I looked back. He'd pulled a phone from somewhere and was talking into it. He had a cell. Of course he did. And another son would be here soon, picking him up and most likely dropping him off where he could spy on me again.
