Part Ten

They arrived at the village forty minutes before the vote was set to begin.

Lights were on everywhere, rising through the growing dark like splotches of

yellow paint. The wind roamed the ground and a mist had begun to curl down from Mount Aurora like a serpent coming to watch.

Osprey stood between two thick trees, ten feet from the back lawn of Scotch’s house. The only home with unlit windows was Thursy’s next door, but if he looked carefully he could see her moving around her room, throwing pieces of clothing into a duffel bag. He figured she must have packed half her room in the last twenty minutes.

Scotch was sitting on the ground nearby. Yared had simply collapsed, still refusing to sleep but no longer able to stay awake. His eyelids fluttered, open and closed as if teasing himself, as he slumped against Scotch.

Osprey could hear people talking. A man and a woman were inside Scotch’s house crying, another man was jumping up and down on his bed asking over and over, "Do I look nervous?" Someone else was taking a shower and belting out a horrible rendition of, "My Heart Will Go On."

"Do you smell smoke?" Scotch whispered.

Osprey nodded. "Cigarette."

He glanced back at the boy behind him. He was the calm type, but Osprey could see lines around his eyes. He had called the human from the plane before they got off, and Osprey had listened to him carefully censor his words for Thursy’s ears.

He wasn’t a bad kid. He would just never be enough for Thursy again.

The thought of her made Osprey nervous. For a few minutes during the flight he had been vulnerable with her in a way he hadn’t been with anyone since the execution.

As he turned away from Scotch, she emerged through the back door of her former residence carrying two over-stuffed duffel bags. She tottered with them as she walked into the woods.

Scotch chuckled. "Did you leave anything behind?"

"Nope. Kitchen sink is in the toiletries bag."

Thursy had changed her clothes and was now wearing black jeans and tee-shirt. Her auburn hair had been brushed back into a ponytail. She looked less fragile now, especially with newfound strength in each step.

She set the bags down on the ground and leaned over to kiss Yared’s temple before straightening. She looked at Osprey and gave him a gentle, understanding smile at the uncertainty on his face.

"We can still leave," he told her.

She shook her head. He had known she wasn’t going to agree – Thursy would do anything for the people she loved, even if it meant being executed twice – but he had to be sure.

"Where do you want me?" Scotch asked.

"Stay here with the bags. If anything happens to me, grab Yared and go.

Osprey, how close to him do I need to be?"

"Within thirty feet."

He wasn’t sure she could do this at all. Forcing a person’s will took a Niagara of energy, she had never done it before, and there was no room for mistakes. He couldn’t do it for her because he had already exhausted himself on the guards; if she hadn’t woken him up, he probably would have slept another twelve hours at least.

"I’ll hide in the living room at my house," she said. "I can watch from the

window there. I better get ready before people start coming outside to the stump."

"I’m coming with you."

She nodded and started walking back toward the house. Scotch didn’t stop her and Osprey followed.

When she opened the back door and the smell hit him, Osprey wondered if he was walking into a house or a cadaver. Blood, mucus, feces, and rot blended like a French brew coffee throughout the building. In the living room he could see the long smears of goo on the walls and feel the blood-saturated carpet squish beneath his feet. Strips of flesh hanging from the ceiling fan had begun to dry and crinkle like over-cooked bacon.

Thursy stiffened and then led him inside. "This is where they found Kiria," she said, "the girl they told me I murdered."

Osprey nodded. Someone had been murdered here, whether or not Thursy was responsible.

They sat down on the living room floor at opposite ends of the window. Osprey tapped at the curtain until it slid to the side, giving him a clear view of the village courtyard. An over-sized lantern had been lit and placed in the center of the stump, and a dozen people were already milling around it.

"See the woman on the porch next door?" Thursy whispered. "That’s Scotch’s mom, Gedmark. She hasn’t smoked since her daughter died."

He recognized Gedmark from his previous visit to the village. Now she was sitting on the front steps with her head bowed into a cloud of smoke.

"I can recognize her breath embedded in the smoke," Thursy said. "I never used to be able to smell like this."

He nodded again, his eyes on Gedmark’s cigarette as the tip flared like a star going nova and then died down.

"I think I know how to do this," Thursy went on. "I mean, I’ve never done it before, but the idea feels natural to me. Like the smelling."

Across the courtyard, a door opened and a shortish, pot-bellied man walked outside. "Look casual," he said to the giant blond girl behind him. Osprey recognized his voice—a few minutes before he had been jumping up and down on a bed, asking if he appeared nervous.

Obviously, he was an enemy.

Osprey’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man and his daughter walk to the stump in the center of the courtyard.

"When you passed out underground," Thursy was saying distantly, "I knew that I could go down and drag you to the surface before the guards got the door open. I didn’t think I could, but I knew. That’s what this is like. I don’t think I can control Yared’s mind, but I know I can."

The man’s face took on a forced expression of sadness as he reached the stump. Nearly everyone Osprey had seen that morning was there now, the entire pack meeting in the courtyard.

"Osprey," Thursy said. Her hand closed around his wrist and he jolted at her warmth.

He stared into her green eyes and thought, Thursy, what the hell are we doing here?

If he hadn’t know she would fight him, if he had been willing to risk her

hatred the way he had with Elomi, he would have taken her mind in his hand

despite his own exhaustion and turned her away from this stupid, tiny village.

She didn’t know it yet, but there was nothing left for her here.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed to the man with the huge daughter and asked, "Who is that?"

Thursy looked, distracted. "That’s Galdwyn," she said, "and Tish." Her hand tightened around him. "He killed Kiria, I think."

Osprey didn’t care. He was a heartless bastard, he knew, but whatever was left in his chest beat only for Thursy and the one thought in his head was to keep her safe from the double-chinned monster.

The crinkled old woman who had known what Thursy was this morning stood up on the stump with some help from Galdwyn and began speaking. She lacked eloquence or poise, but she got her point across as she quickly reviewed the options for alliance with either the Night World or Circle Daybreak. Gedmark stood off to the side, not with either of her spouses, lighting one cigarette from the last.

"Yared should walk in now," Osprey said. Thursy was suddenly breathing

quickly, and he could see fear growing in her eyes.

"We don’t have to do this," he told her again.

She blinked slowly, disappointed in him. She needed him to understand, to support her in this. She needed him to be the one who would guide her.

He hated himself for being so selfish, but he just wanted to take her away. He wanted to know that he wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

Instead, he took her other hand and lifted them both. "Think of him," he said, their eyes locking. "Gather all your memories of him to you. Hear his voice, smell his skin."

Her breathing began to slow, and he knew she was catching on more easily than he had at first. He thought she and Yared must have been very close to have fostered such an immediate connection.

"Now coax him. Feel him like clay between your hands."

Her grip on his fingers tightened.

"Don’t push too hard. Make him believe that this is his own choice."

There was a gasp from someone in the crowd. Osprey didn’t look, but he heard Gedmark’s cigarette sizzle when it hit the dew-soaked grass, and her feet

pounding toward them.

"Good," he told Thursy. "Let him talk if you want."

Her lips parted. A hesitant breath flowed between them and then Osprey heard Yared say, "It’s okay, I’m okay, Ged."

His voice was slurpy, cotton-mouthed. Outside the window, the entire pack moved to embrace Yared as he drew Gedmark out from between the row of houses.

"He’s exhausted," Osprey said.

"I’m exhausted," Yared told the crowd. "But I wanted to come back for the

vote. Please, I’ll answer questions about what happened to me tomorrow. Right now I just want to get this over with and go to bed."

There was a lot of grumbling and a few voices of agreement. A faint sweat had broken out on Thursy’s forehead.

"Easy, don’t push to hard."

Thursy loosened her control and Yared stumbled. Ramble and Preza quickly supported him from either side.

"Perhaps we should put the vote off until tomorrow," Galdwyn suggested. Osprey could hear panic tensing his voice. "Yared is clearly in no shape to make decisions."

"No," Yared said quickly, "I’m fine. Just very tired. I haven’t slept since

the night before last, and I think that witch’s brew made me even sleepier."

"Witch’s brew?" Jinchae asked.

"The one that brought me back, cleared my mind."

"Good," Osprey said. "Very plausible."

"Osprey," Thursy whispered. "He’s going…he’s slipping out of range."

He looked sharply to the window. Yared had to be nearly forty-feet from them, and it was another fifteen to the stump.

"I’ll take over," he told her.

"You’re too tired-"

"No, while I’m forcing him, you run outside. Don’t let anyone see you, but get close enough that you can feel him again. Once you grab on, I’ll let go."

He could feel her concentration begin lapsing, like a heart slowly stopping

beating. "I’ve got him," he whispered, fixing the image of her brother in his

mind. "Go now."

Thursy’s hands slipped out of his as he closed his eyes. Stupid, careless to let her do this in the first place, and now to be helping her…

His brain creaked and winced as he reached for Yared. The boy’s flame

flickered against his fingers, weak and confused, and it took everything Osprey

had left to keep him walking toward the stump. Pain ricocheted between his

temples and through Yared’s eyes he saw the base of what had once been a great tree. He didn’t have the strength to help the boy climb onto it.

Preza and Ramble lifted him up and he stood, half-slumped, between them. The old hag and Tish and Galdwyn climbed up as well, and the pack assembled in a circle around them.

Osprey felt himself stop breathing. Everything he had left was going into

keeping a coherent expression on Yared’s face.

Galdwyn began a long, rambling speech. Osprey couldn’t make out the words, but he could tell that the man was trying to buy himself time. Where was Thursy?

Yared’s eyes fell closed and Osprey couldn’t get them open again. His brain was rending itself in half with the strain and his fingers were burning, and then he felt Thursy’s mind kiss against his and rolled backwards on to the

bloodied carpet.

His chest shuddered for air. Black lines twisted in front of his eyes, halving the ceiling above him.

"Circle Daybreak," Yared said in a clear voice. "I think we should side with Circle Daybreak."

The crowd’s response showed their obvious shock. Osprey pressed his hands over his ears to keep their murmur from scratching his eardrums open.

"And I side with the Night World," Galdwyn announced.

"Night World," agreed a flat, near-dead voice.

The old ‘shifter said slowly in a voice that crackled like breakfast cereal,

"I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think Yared’s right. It’s time we pumas were able to come down out of the mountains and explore the cities again

without fear."

"That’s a tie, but the ages add up in favor of the Night World," Galdwyn said in a sigh of relief.

"But there were only four votes," Yared pointed out.

The crowd grew very quiet.

Osprey slowly sat up, his head rolling sickly on his neck.

"What about Thursy?" Yared asked.

More silence. Then Gedmark said, "We’ll talk about Thursy later. She doesn’t get a vote."

"No," Yared said quickly, "I know you killed her. Because you believed she killed Kiria. But if she were here, she would be voting for Circle Daybreak.

That would make the vote three to two, and ages wouldn’t matter."

"But she isn’t here," Law told him.

"She was here until this morning. She knows this pack as well as any of us do. Why shouldn’t she have a vote?"

"Because she’s dead," Kvyn told him quietly. "The dead don’t vote."

Then Thursy, in her own voice, said, "Sure they do."

"I’m sorry," Yared told them, "I have to lie down." He collapsed into Ramble’s arms.

Osprey was so overcome with dread that for an instant the room fell away from him and he could only see blackness. When his eyes cleared again, he saw Thursy walking into the clearing amid gasps and shouts. The word "bogeyman" darted between people like squirrels.

"Run!" the old woman screamed. "Run! She’s a bogeyman!"

Osprey forced himself to climb to his feet and press one hand against the

window. Ramble grabbed Yared’s arms and legs and hoisted him up on his back. He began running toward his house at the same time Scotch came running out of the woods behind it.

Thursy climbed onto the stump in the center of the courtyard, her bright green eyes catching the moonlight. Gedmark had fallen down in the grass, and Galdwyn still stood with Tish and the old lady. Everyone else was fleeing from the circular stump like rays of light from the sun.

"Come back!" Galdwyn shouted. "Enough of us can over-take it!"

A few people stopped halfway to their houses and looked back. One simply began running twice as quickly toward his home.

Out of the corner of his eye, Osprey saw Scotch kick his father in the stomach and barely managed to break Yared’s fall as the two men crashed to the ground. Yared was moaning under his breath.

Thursy stood utterly without fear, but Osprey could see that she was near

exhaustion. One of her knees trembled beneath her.

Galdwyn saw it, too.

The man who had gone running into his home as if Satan were chasing him now emerged from it carrying a blow torch in one hand and a chainsaw in the other. A long extension chord trailed out behind him as he rushed to the stump.

Osprey took two steps back and rushed the window. The glass cracked under his shoulder like thick ice and the top half of his body fell through the frame, dragging his hips and legs after him by sheer inertia. He hit the ground with a huge splinter of glass embedded in his back and realized he could only feel one of his arms.

He had managed to sever his spinal chord.

There was no pain, but he knew that he might take as long as an hour to heal from this kind of trauma when he was already so worn down. He turned his head enough to be able to see Yared stumbling through the woods toward the car while Scotch turned back.

Go, Osprey thought, just go. She wanted Yared safe, and I can’t save her now, so at least give her that.

But Scotch was moving determinedly back toward the courtyard.

Osprey twisted his head again to see in the other direction. Galdwyn had hit Thursy in the face and she was down on one knee with her nose bleeding. He watched her stand up again and lash out with one leg. Even from forty-feet away he could hear Galdwyn’s knee break.

Thursy didn’t have the strength to find her balance again and sat down on the stump. The guy with the chainsaw stopped a few feet away, tossing his blowtorch to Tish and revving up his machine.

Scotch came into view away, suddenly hesitating as the thunder of the machine gun shook the silent clearing. Thursy rolled onto her side, trying to shield her face, and her gaze met Osprey’s.

One look, and he knew that Yared’s safety would make all this worth it to her. If only she could be certain that her brother would be well-looked after, she wouldn’t care if her body was torn to pieces.

He gave her a tiny nod and turned to Scotch. Gathering the last dredges of his strength, he made a lunging grasp for the boy’s spirit and bound it tightly with a single command.

Forget about saving Thursy. Just get out with-

He never got to finish the thought. His mind shattered and he sank into

blackness.

to be continued…