All the tales had to be told again to the new people, so it was after lunch before the Laurel Gap patrol headed back to the Trace once more, at a walking pace with men taking it in turns to carry Pakko’s litter smoothly. The wagon camp fell much quieter, and folks bent their thoughts to their own road. Dag counted up the days of delay, and was surprised how few there were-he felt as if they’d been trapped in this burned-over valley for months.
Tavia was left horseless. Since Barr would be traveling the next stretch in the back of a wagon, he offered her the use of his mount- which, actually, belonged to Arkady-if she’d come north with him.
After a sidewise glance at Dag, Neeta renewed her urging to Remo to come south with her; the boy seemed confused by her sudden warmth.
Which brought Dag to a task he’d been dreading. His shiver of rage was still anchored by doubt. Let’s have the truth out, then. And if it was as ugly as cleaning up mud-men, maybe it was as needful, too.
–-
Dag selected a spot just out of sight and earshot of the camp, near the chattering streambed. He sat on a rock and dug in the ground with his stick, while Sumac leaned on a gray beech bole, arms crossed. Her mere presence, he trusted, would be enough to block any embarrassments like his last private talk with Neeta. His other invitees settled crosslegged around him: Remo, Tavia, Neeta. Finch and Ash, also summoned, shuffled and stared uncertainly.
“What’s this all about, Dag? ” asked Remo. “Patrol business, you said.”
Dag held up his hand to spare the last pair from settling. He’d have picked Sage for this testimony, as the most levelheaded of the Alligator Hat boys, but in the aftermath of the malice kill the young smith had been distracted by worry for his wife and tent-brother. “I won’t keep you long. The day Whit shot the malice, that afternoon, what all was going on in camp when Neeta rode by? As exactly as you can remember.”
“Oh…” Finch ran a hand through his hair. “It was such an uproar at first. Berry’d got out just about enough words to explain what had happened, or at least, enough for us to explain it to the rest. We were all worried for her and Whit. Bo’d looked over poor Fawn, and said she was a goner. Hod and Hawthorn were crying. It was plain we wouldn’t be staying there long, and most of us figured you for a goner, too. So when we told the muleteers your tale, they dug space for her as well.”
“As a sort of gift,” Ash confirmed.
“Neeta came cantering up the road in a hurry, but she saw us and reined in.”
“Before or after the burial? ”
“Oh, before. We had those four poor muleteers and Fawn laid out on blankets, and were sort of looking at one another wondering what to say. Neeta said she’d been sent to find the local Lakewalkers and get help for some hurt patroller. That she’d seen Tavia, who’d hauled Arkady up the ridge to rescue you both-you were hurt, too, but she didn’t know just how bad.”
“It didn’t sound real good,” said Ash. “We got that somebody had a broke back, but we weren’t sure which.”
“We told her Whit had shot the malice, but I don’t know as she really believed us. She rode around and looked at the wings, anyway. Never got down off her horse. Then she was gone at a gallop before Vio even got to ask about Owlet.”
Neeta started to speak, but, at Dag’s upflung hand, fell silent. Her eyes pinched. Did she see what was coming? Dag was afraid so.
Dag said, “Did she know you were about to bury Fawn? ”
“Oh, sure,” said Finch. “That is… we didn’t talk about it, but it was all laid out there, the corpses and the grave half dug and all. I wouldn’t think you could miss it.”
Ash gave a slow blink, and started to open his mouth. Dag cut in: “Thanks, boys. That’ll be all.”
The two wandered upstream toward the wagons, looking curiously over their shoulders.
Dag scowled across at Neeta.
She raised her chin. “She looked dead! Ground-ripped, I figured. How was I to know those shields of yours would do such a crazy thing? And anyway, I had my ground veiled on account of the malice blight.”
Dag said slowly, “It’s your word alone as to whether you were open or closed. I can’t prove you’re lying. You can’t prove you’re telling the truth.” Can you, Neeta?
Red spots flared in Neeta’s fair cheeks: indignant, or scared? “Well, I like that!”
“She could open now,” said Remo doubtfully.
Dag and Neeta traded a long, long stare. His heartbeats felt hot, and too far apart. Odd. He’d thought his world would be tinged with red by this point, but it was just blue and distant. “No,” said Dag at last. “I think not. Unveiled, I could kill her with a thought, you know. Just like I did Crane. It’d be almost as easy as murder by silence.”
A ripple of dismay ran through Remo and Tavia, a flinch from Sumac, but no one spoke. Or dared speak?
Neeta’s gaze fell, slid away. It was all the answer Dag needed. Or wanted, really. And you thought this was your duty, old patroller, why?
Wearily, he ran his hand over his face, rubbing at the numbness. “Go home, Neeta. Patrol there. You owe New Moon for your raising, and Luthlia for your training. You’ll be a long time paying that debt back. At the end of your lifetime, share if you will. Just don’t come north. The north does not need you.”
Remo stared at her in bleak doubt.
“It’s not fair!” she began, then clamped her jaw shut. Right. Best advice for someone at the bottom of a deep, deep hole: stop digging. Apt turn of phrase, that. Well, he’d never thought the girl was stupid.
“What about me? ” said Tavia. She had gone very pale, staring at her partner.
Sumac stirred on her tree bole. “I’d recommend you to Fairbolt Crow at Hickory Lake, if you want to take a turn exchanging north. My word with Fairbolt is pretty good coin. I’ll be speaking for Rase as well, you can bet-I expect he’ll be all recovered by the time I get him up there. His recent malice experiences are going to make him very much in demand, I can tell you. Yours, too.”
Tavia looked at the ground, looked narrowly at Neeta, who stirred uncomfortably but said nothing. Tavia finally replied, “I think I’ll report in at home, first. Be sure the story is told straight. Make my good-byes properly. But I’ll take you up on your good word after that, if the offer holds.”
“It holds.”
“Tell Rase I’ll be along come fall, then.”
Sumac nodded.
Rase? thought Dag. So much for poor Barr’s hopes. Well, Barr was resilient. Remo looked downcast, again. Blight, that boy can’t win for losing.
Both were so very young…
“And you, Remo? Which way you ridin’, tomorrow? ” asked Sumac.
Remo let out a long breath. He did not look at Neeta anymore.
“North,” he said.
No one spoke on the short walk back to camp.
–-
In the morning, when they’d finally wrestled the wagons back down the creek bed and onto the Trace, two silent riders turned south. Arkady had lent Tavia a horse, also lading her with a long list of his possessions to bring back with her when she returned. Dag didn’t know what all Sumac had confided to Arkady last night, but he was formidably chilly to Neeta in parting. Tavia turned once in her saddle to wave farewell, a gesture earnestly returned by Rase. Neeta, her back rigid, did not look around.
–-
To Fawn’s joy, Blackwater Mills harbored a hotel almost as fine as the one in Glassforge, if smaller. Better still, it had a spanking new bathhouse.
She gladly pried open their purse for a room-as, after one look at the bathhouse, did Arkady. Doubling up with Sumac for frugality, no doubt.
As for Fawn, she looked forward to a few days of eating food someone else had fixed, and no squinting in the cook smoke. The swelling in Dag’s foot had gone down in the four days of travel since they’d left the burned-over valley, but its color-colors-were even uglier. They both could use some time in a real bed, she reckoned. All to themselves.
