Tens grabbed my arm. "Do you trust me?"
"But -"
"Do you trust me?" he asked again.
"Yes." I grabbed my bag and touched Auntie"s still-warm hand one last time. "Where are we going?"
"Follow me," Tens instructed.
"Wait, I have to get -"
"We don"t have time."
I dragged my feet even as I saw the flames dance along the porch beneath us. A shattering crash and a violent cheer intensified the stench of fire. "I need her basket. I"m a quilter now 156a too. And the journal." It was the most tangible connection I had to Fenestras, to the only ni Fenestra I truly knew.
*"Safe. I have the basket already. The journal"s in your pack."
"What?"
"Auntie. She knew, I listened. Let"s go." Tens shook me to get my attention.
I slung my arms through the straps of my backpack and hitched it up as Tens ran his hands beneath a stack of quilts that were piled on the shelves of the armoire in the far corner.
"What are you doing?"
"There"s a latch here somewhere."
I started shoving quilts aside and off the shelves. The roar of the fire was hungry and the people outside sang hymns at the top of their lungs. Someone shouted, "And the witches shall be burned out of the promised land!"
"Here we go." Four empty spools of thread decorated the top of the shelves like gingerbread detailing, evenly s.p.a.ced. "s.h.i.t, what"s the code? She told me. Months ago. What the h.e.l.l was it?"
"There"s a code?"
He turned to me. "What did you say earlier? The "I love you," what was it?"
"One-four-three."
"That"s it." Tens pressed the first spool into the top of the unit until it disappeared completely. Then he pressed the fourth and the third and finally we heard a pop. A musty smell blew into the room.
"Stairs?"
Tens turned on his flashlight and took my hand. "Trust me."
I nodded. Downstairs, another window shattered and footsteps stampeded on the first floor.
Tens closed the unit behind us. When we heard a click, we knew it had locked. Would they think to search for a secret pa.s.sageway?
We went down the stairs as quickly as we could, descending in a tight spiral of iron and wood. The noises became louder and smoke began seeping through cracks in the chute. It required all my fort.i.tude not to cough, but my eyes watered.
A voice shouted by my shoulder, "Look in the storm cellar! They"re here somewhere. Find them."
I turned a panicked face to Tens. He gently placed a finger along my lips. Trust. Trust Trust.
With each heartbeat I felt the word.
157ani *We slowed down, praying we wouldn"t make a noise. We went past the third and second floors, past the first and into the bas.e.m.e.nt. I didn"t know where we were or where in the world we would come out. I gripped Tens"s hand and he turned to me. "Almost there."
I pressed against Tens"s back, mimicking his movements. Down a long tunnel.
"We"re here. It"s safe to talk now, they can"t hear us."
I glanced around. "Where are we?"
"The old icebox. The stream flows past just ahead."
"The stream? That"s like a football field away from the house."
"Right."
"How?"
"There"s time later to explain, but we have to keep moving. We aren"t safe yet."
We heard splashing in the water ahead Tens turned off his light and handed it to me. He bent down and drew a gun from a holster on his ankle.
The footsteps got closer, as did the panting. And finally, a low growl that was Custos"s h.e.l.lo. I flicked on the light and knelt down. She licked my face.
I turned to Tens as he holstered his gun. "Is that a gun?"
"Yep."
"Would you have ..." I broke off, unable to say it out loud.
"Of course." He regarded me the way every warrior has looked at the smaller and the helpless they"ve sworn to protect. I didn"t appreciate his expression. I wasn"t helpless and I wasn"t in need of rescuing.
I opened my mouth, but he beat me to it. "I know how to shoot. I"ve hunted for years. A gun is more efficient than a bow and arrow, especially when you"re hungry. Would I pull the trigger to protect you? Absolutely. Would I let you pull the trigger to protect me? h.e.l.l, yes.
But do you know how to shoot? Have you ever held a gun?"
"No."
"So, if this is something I know how to do and you don"t, there isn"t anything s.e.xist in that -it"s smart."
I nodded. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. "When this is over, you"ll teach me, right?"
158a "Sure. I"ll even let you skin and gut dinner." He smiled.
ni *"Thanks." My stomach rolled at the thought.
Custos fell into step with us, occasionally running ahead, then waiting. Her ears never stopped moving and her nose tilted up to catch the scents floating in the wind. We came to the end of the tunnel and Tens pushed against a bundle of branches until it moved far enough for us to squeeze through.
"How did Custos fit through there?" I asked as we pushed the camouflage back into place.
We were under the huge curving stone bridge I"d crossed that first day.
"No idea. Come on." Tens grabbed my bag and my hand. "Quiet." He moved out from under the bridge, lit with the frantic flames and echoing with fanatical cries in a language I didn"t understand.
People clad in long white robes were running about in the distance. I realized one stood apart and directed the others. Where the light from the fire should have reflected off his robes and face, it disappeared into blackness. The pieces clicked and I knew this wasn"t about witches, but about Aternocti versus Fenestra. Perimo had positioned himself in a community that was desperate for answers, and instead of hope he"d fed them a diet of blame.
The bridge afforded us a bit of shelter, but the fire"s heat was tangible even from there. We listened to the angry roll of thunder as the fire engulfed the house one board and one stone at a time. Hail and snow battled with warm wind, as if the earth was engaged in a larger conflict.
I let the cold of the rock sink through my coat and into my back, keeping me grounded and in the now. It seemed like months ago I"d crawled and stumbled my way across this structure, unsure of what awaited me at the house. Now, my heart broke and grief swamped me -the house, the love, the stories. Auntie-all reduced to a pile of ash.
Thank G.o.d the main structure of the house was stone, or we might not have made it out.
Black smoke billowed, and the people stood so close, the sweat and soot on their faces made them appear like they"d crawled out of a coal mine. As we moved closer, keeping our cover in the tree line, I recognized faces from the church service, but there were also others, ones who, like Perimo, absorbed the light around them. Biblical verses were interspersed with guttural proclamations and what I could only guess were curses.
Freezing rain evaporated before it got within yards of the fire, but it covered other noises as it smacked the trees and cars on the road. The heat from the fire was only deepened by the unseasonably warm weather that melted a lot of the snow and raised the level of the creek, its splashes and trickles covering our footsteps and scent. Custos led the way.
I struggled to keep up with Tens"s clearheaded purpose and long strides. The shadows and firelight grew dim behind us; the shouts and high temperature faded away.
And still we plodded on. We headed in the opposite direction of where I"d gotten lost trying to find Celia, but the forest all looked the same. Huge water droplets dripped down on us from the trees above, but the hail had either stopped falling or it wasn"t making it through the foliage to hurt us. The cold that had frozen my lungs for days was gone, replaced by a 159an crispness that woke me up and kept me going.
i *Tens stopped and listened. I ran into his back, my eyes down, focused on each footstep.
"Sor -" I whispered.
He shook his head, cutting off my apology.
I stood stock-still behind him, wondering what he was listening for. The forest wasn"t quiet, but neither was it noisy. How did he pick out the sounds to worry about?
"We"re okay." He turned to me. "Right?"
"Right."
"We"re almost there. Can you keep going?"
"Or you"ll carry me?" I asked with a hint of a smile.
Clearly, he didn"t know I was teasing, "I pulled something at the train, so my back is really sore. I don"t think I can -"
"Then give me my bag." I didn"t need to be coddled anymore. Granted I"d been a mess when I first got here, but I was better every day. Stronger. Healthier.
"You sure?" Tens asked, flicking the flashlight to my face. He handed over my bag.
"You really don"t look very good." I said, studying him in the little light cast by the flashlight.
"It"s nothing." He dismissed me. "I"ve got hot chocolate and dry clothes when we get there."
"That"s motivation. Lead on." I grinned.
We hiked on. Occasionally Tens paused, turned out the light, and listened. He stumbled once or twice, unlike his normal agile self, but we were both exhausted.
Finally, we turned into a steep canyon filled with Douglas fir and ferns. The piles of snow that had slid down the side of the cliffs created a tunnel of ice and snow around us. It was a cool blue in the early-morning light.
Custos whined and waited for us.
"I dug a path. It"s melting but still fairly stable. It"s not long and there"s a cave on the other side."
"When? All those treks and errands?"
Tens squeezed my hand. "Wait till you see it. It"s the four-star Hilton resort of your dreams."
"Really?" I laughed. My standards had surely fallen if a cave and a resort could be 160a compared in the same sentence.
ni *"Really." He crouched, following Custos.
Tens lifted a branch at the end of the tunnel, then pushed against a door that appeared to be rock, but was clearly much lighter. He stepped back. "Ladies first." He handed me the flashlight, which I shone into the dark hole, ducking down.
Custos pushed past me and yipped a welcome I"d never heard from her before.
I gasped, shocked by what greeted me.
161ani *
Chapter 32.
Holy c.r.a.p!" I dropped my bag and shrugged out of my drenched coat. The interior temperature was amazingly cozy.
Tens flicked a switch and several lamps hung from the ceiling illuminated. I pointed at them.
"Battery rigged." He shrugged, "Charles."
The rock walls were decorated with ancient paintings like ones I"d seen only in books.
Paintings of huge people with spears, and animals.
An old Oriental rug in n.o.ble burgundy and blue tones graced the rock floor. Shelves made of branches held books, knickknacks, and stacks of Auntie"s quilts; a rod made from a sapling held a curtain I recognized as identical to the ones in the library. "This is amazing!
What is this place?"
I realized I was dripping water all over a discarded piece of linoleum.