5
When she’d volunteered to help with getting the Kemper house in order for the boys to eventually take up residence, the last thing Cordelia had expected was a steady stream of visitors. In fact, she’d taken on the job in part because, until her ankle was completely healed, she’d been forbidden to go on even a short hike, and her mom, meaning well, would keep coming to check on her. The “checking” was usually disguised as something else: asking an opinion on dinner or bringing a cup of tea “because I was brewing some for myself,” or some other completely innocuous excuse, but Cordelia knew the attention for what it was: Lady Danette’s need to reassure herself that Cordelia was fine.
When Cordelia had made the mistake of complaining to her older sister, Dana had been tart and unmerciful. “Brat! You’re too young to remember the Plague. It’s a story to you. But I’m just that little bit older, and what I remember best is the sense of uncertainty. You didn’t plan for anything, big or small, beyond the next day, especially fun things like birthday parties, because it was all too possible that the person wouldn’t be there or would be too sick or whatever. When you planned it was for scary things, like running out of supplies or having to move. I had an evacuation bag in my room. Mom gave it some silly name, like ‘sleepover bag,’ but she knew and I knew what it was: it held all I could take if I had to go somewhere else because Mom was sick, like Dad had been sick, or Uncle Bart had been or…”
Dana’s voice had trailed off, soft and tight, and she had dashed tears from her eyes without realizing they were there.
Cordelia had drawn in a deep breath. “Sorry. I get it. PTSD. And I triggered all that again by nearly getting myself and Barnaby killed and because I’m a brat”—she’d stressed the word—“who had a thing about not wanting to set my Fall alarm.” She’d shaken her head. “That was a joke, Dana! Of course I always set it when I was out alone. You know that!”
“Yeah?” Dana had cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Okay. You’re right; I did know, or I’d’ve raised Cain over it when I got you alone. But are you sure Mom knew that?”
“Well, I thought she did,” Cordelia had said. “But even if she did, I know it’s not funny anymore. And I know, Mom’s not only haunted by what actually happened, but what might have happened, how you here would have wondered why I didn’t turn up for dinner and gone looking and…” She’d thrust out her injured ankle and imagined the healing flesh as it had been, red and oozing, imagined all of her like that, maybe her eyes ripped out, bald patches on her scalp, or bones showing. “Doesn’t Mom know that every time she comes to check on me I feel guilty all over again for scaring her that way? I get it. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, but what can I do?”
And Dana, because she was Dana, because she was sensible and understood both sides, had come up with the suggestion that Cordelia could make herself useful over at the Kemper house. Lady Danette had agreed because she, too, was sensible, and because she knew her middle daughter needed some time to herself.
So Cordelia had taken to spending a few hours a day at the Kemper farmhouse. It was a large, rambling structure. Even today, stone and timber were much easier to get on Sphinx than prefab, especially given freight costs and how strapped for hard money most Sphinxians were. It was another sign of Glynis Bonaventure’s wealth that she could import so many of her geodesic domes. Fortunately, counter-grav made it possible to haul raw materials to be built into sturdy, solid, surprisingly lovely homes, insulated by massive walls against both the cold and the monsters that prowled in the bush, and that was exactly what the Kemper farmhouse was.
After the boys had come to live with the Schardt-Cordovas, the house had been cleaned and sealed. The original furniture was still in storage: knickknacks and practical goods alike boxed up because an empty structure didn’t offer as much temptation to thieves and vandals. Although the house had been alarmed, Lady Danette had insisted on a visual check at least once a T-week, a ritual that Cordelia now suspected had been intended as much to keep the Kemper boys connected to their heritage as it had been to care for mere real estate.
Now that Mack was eighteen, he wanted to take up part-time residence in a home he barely remembered. Like many of the older houses on Sphinx, the Kempers’ had been built in stages. The plan was to open the oldest part: kitchen, bathroom, living area, a couple of bedrooms, and leave the rest for later, so the boys wouldn’t need to maintain as much.
Or be as aware of all the space their parents had expected to fill with the siblings they’d never had.
Cordelia had taken on the task of room by room triage, starting in the kitchen, checking which appliances would need to be replaced or refurbished, washing down surfaces, and estimating how much paint and oil would be needed to freshen walls and wood floors. It was good, tiring work, and she’d thought that, even with Athos for company, she might get lonely.
But, of course, she’d discovered her expectation of solitude had been sadly misplaced. Both Mack and Zack had dropped by, although they’d vanished when she’d suggested they grab a scrub brush instead of gloating over how much space there was in the pantry. Herman Maye from Mr. Ack’s had stopped by, twice in one day. The first time had been to make sure no one had broken into the house. The second had been to give Cordelia some excess Portobello mushrooms to take home with her. He’d popped in and out, hardly a distraction at all. Then Karl Zivonik had dropped by to talk treecats. Unlike the Kemper boys, he knew how to chat with a scrub brush in hand, which nudged him up in Cordelia’s estimation. Karl was due to come back today, so when Cordelia heard an air car coming in for a landing, she figured it was either him or the Kempers and didn’t even look up.
Then she heard front door open and close. Footsteps came down the hall toward the kitchen, and she began backing out of the cabinet where she’d been putting contact paper down on the newly freshened shelves to greet her visitor.
“Hi!” she began. “I didn’t—”
She froze, still on her hands and knees, as she found herself looking up into the amused and somehow predatory gaze of Frank Câmara. A bag dangled from his fingers, and from it came the earthy scent of fresh mushrooms.
“I knocked,” he said. “And let myself in when no one came to the door.”
Cordelia knew he’d lied. She’d been listening for a knock because a knock would have been Karl, while the Kemper boys would simply have thundered in. She felt vulnerable down on the floor, and adjusted her counter-grav to bring her to her feet without the need to put weight on her ankle. She’d progressed from crutch to cane, but her gut feeling was that she didn’t want to look the least gimpy. Once she was on her feet, though, she casually wrapped her fingers around the length of polished red spruce that her mother had supplied for her.
“Your dad’s,” she’d said, far too casually, “from when we were building the house and he broke his foot.”
Now Cordelia felt a strange courage, as if her dead father was standing right behind her, whispering in her ear, telling her to face bullies, not shrink back.
“If you run, they will chase. It is the nature of the beast, but look them squarely in the eye and they will wonder if you are more dangerous than they had believed.”
So Cordelia met Frank’s insolent gaze. As she did so, she tried to remember where Athos was. Outside, she thought, messing about with stones, as he seemed to enjoy doing. She hadn’t wanted to pry into what it was he did in his private time. That seemed too—anthropological or something—like Athos was a something to be studied, not a new friend, who would show off what he was doing when he felt like it.
Frank’s arrogant leer was fading into a quizzical expression that just barely masked something cat and mouse in his posture. Momentarily, Cordelia wished her rifle wasn’t near the front door with her outdoor things, then she realized that if she pulled a gun, she’d just show how scared she was. So she forced what she hoped sounded like a casual laugh.
“I didn’t hear you. Uncle Bart built solid cabinets, I guess.”
“Looks like it,” Frank agreed. “Really solid house.”
His tongue moved quickly over his upper lip. Cordelia fought a shiver. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know much about Frank Câmara, but surely even he wouldn’t try anything. He had to know she’d report him if he did… Or did he? There was something odd about him, slightly unfocused. She struggled to find a topic of conversation and pointed to the bag still dangling from his fingers.
“Mushrooms? Did Herman send those over? Were you making a pick-up for your father?” She stopped herself short of adding “Like the last time we saw you?” She didn’t want to remind him of that last meeting, of the cutting things he’d said to Stephanie and about injured treecats.
“Mushrooms, yeah,” Frank echoed, looking at his own hand as if it was new to him, “Mushrooms. From Herman. He had them set by, was going to bring them, but I said I’d do him a favor. I wanted to see what this place looked like, check on you, a young woman, all alone…”
This time the innuendo was plain, but there was nothing Cordelia could call him on, even if she’d felt like doing so. One thing for sure, this was the last time she’d leave the door unlocked.
“Are you going to live here, too?” Frank asked, still holding onto the bag of mushrooms, “with Mack and Zack? That could be…fun.”
Again, he’d said nothing Cordelia could call him on, but his inflection turned the words into something lewd. She felt dirtied by his obviously lecherous imaginings, and wondered if her cheeks were turning red.
“No,” she said, and found the one syllable almost impossible to articulate. How could she change the subject, get him out of the house, without giving Frank the pleasure of knowing he’d scared her? That would give him power over her, and more than anything else, she didn’t want that.
The bag of mushrooms that was swinging forgotten again from Frank’s left hand gave Cordelia an idea.
“I’d better put those mushrooms in the cooler,” she said, plucking the bag from his slack fingers before he could think to tighten his grip. “Let me call Herman to make sure that’s the right thing to do. I’d hate to spoil them.”
She was proud of herself for managing to make her tone matter-of-fact, slipped the bag on her wrist, and got out her uni-link in one smooth movement. Frank jolted slightly, as if he’d been asleep on his feet.
C’mon, Herman. Answer my call, Cordelia thought desperately. Don’t let this go to message. Answer, answer.…
When Herman answered, Cordelia had to fight to sound casual. “Hi, Herman. Cordelia. I wanted to thank you for sending over the…”
Frank moved, blinked. Cordelia hardly knew what she was saying because Frank, realizing that they were no longer alone, was moving toward the door. She trailed after, managing to chatter back at Herman who was giving her some sort of recipe. Then Frank was out, walking across the porch, down the steps, over to the same air van he’d been driving the last time. Cordelia snapped the deadbolt shut, then scurried to make sure the kitchen door was locked as well.
Herman must have heard something in her voice, because he stopped in the middle of explaining why browned butter was so important to bringing out the flavor.
“Are you all right, Cordelia?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “I heard something on the roof. I need to run upstairs and open a window for Athos. That recipe sounds great, but I’m not much of a cook. Can you text it to me? I’d like to try it.”
Herman looked very pleased on the uni-link’s tiny display. “I would have brought it myself, along with the mushrooms, but Frank left before I could…”
Something changed—ever so briefly—in Herman’s voice, something that made Cordelia wonder whether Frank restricted his bullying to young women with broken ankles caught all alone. But surely Frank couldn’t bully Herman. Herman was an adult. He had a responsible job. Frank needed Herman as a source of exotic produce for the family business, right?
She disconnected the call and adjusted her counter-grav unit so she could float upstairs and open a window—a small window—for Athos. The moment it was open, the treecat flowed through the narrow gap and butted his head against her arm, purring loudly.
Cordelia collapsed down onto the windowseat built into the thick wall of the house and let Athos onto her lap. Only then, to her astonishment, did she begin to shake, then burst into tears.
* * *
If Heart Stone had nurtured any doubt that his two-leg bondmate was young, her eagerness to be up and doing even before the ache of her wounds had faded from her mind-glow was proof enough. He had been interested when she had taken them in one of the flying things to a seemingly vacant nesting place of the sort the two-legs built for themselves. The nesting place in which she resided with a group of two-legs that felt like a clan group to him was indeed busy, especially when various outliers came to visit, but he did not think it was so crowded that Life Shaper needed to go elsewhere.
Could it be that she was of breeding age? Her lack of interest in any of the young males who visited her clan’s nesting place had made him think she was young for such things, but despite his distant observation of Life Shaper’s clan during the seasons in which he had scavenged their leavings, Heart Stone did not consider himself an expert on the two-legs. He wished he could ask Climbs Quickly, whose two-leg also seemed young, but that was not to be. He would need to figure out Life Shaper’s needs for himself. His curiosity, which had dimmed after Golden Eye’s death, had been stimulated by the puzzle of two-legs and why they did what they did, even before he had bonded with Life Shaper.
He wondered what his new friends called his bondmate, for he was certain they would have given her a name by now. His name for her represented not only the new shape she had given his life, but also a tie to his own former name, for he envisioned her as shaping him into something useful and even beautiful, just as he shaped flint.
On the first day they had come to Second Nest, after assuring himself that nothing dangerous resided within the vacant nesting place or its immediate surroundings, Heart Stone had scampered up one of the spreading golden leaf trees that surrounded the nest, taking himself far enough to escape the stench of the various fluids Life Shaper was spreading on every surface, only to wipe them away with much water and even more effort. Here, he could continue work on the stone knife he was making for Climbs Quickly without leaving sharp chips of stone where they might cut the delicate skin of his bondmate.
Heart Stone had been leaning back against the tree trunk, admiring his newly finished project when yet another of the flying things came to rest on the flat area near the nesting place that was their designated roost. Even before the flying thing had disgorged its two-leg, Heart Stone had recognized the stink of the young male human’s mind-glow from their first brief meeting at Rich Dirt Grove. He had bristled and set the newly finished knife aside, thinking he would drop down and enter the nesting place when Life Shaper came to open the swinging flap that covered the entry.
What Heart Stone had not counted on was that the young male—Stench, as he thought of him—would push the flap and enter the nest himself. Up to this point, the only ones who had entered without banging on the flap had been the members of Life Shaper’s own clan. Disturbed, Heart Stone had swarmed down the tree trunk so quickly that some of his treasured tools plummeted down. He had left them to be retrieved at some future time.
The next breaths of time, short as they were, had been greatly disturbing. He had tasted how Life Shaper had begun as startled, then become afraid. Stone had raced from point to point on the nest, seeking an entry that would not involve him having to break anything. He had known he would do his best to rip loose whatever part of the nest he could if the threat to her went beyond fear. Even feeling her tolerating fear had been almost more than he could endure. Had he not been a senior Person and an injured one as well, he might have tried to rip through the walls. But Heart Stone was older, and he had known all too well that fear was danger’s herald, not danger itself. If Stench was the source of Life Shaper’s fear, then frightening Stench might have set loose the very menace Life Shaper feared.
When Stench took his leave, Heart Stone stood guard until he confirmed that the flying thing had definitely left the area, not merely prowled around for another approach. As he did so, he heard the covering over one of the smaller upper openings in the nest snap open, and Life Shaper softly calling. She often made the same noise, and he was more and more certain that it was her name for him.
“Ah-thos” meant no more to him than did the mating song of a peak-wing or the chitters of a bark chewer, but it warmed him just the same. He bounded to that summons, slipped in through the opening, and pressed against Life Shaper, purring as once he had purred to soothe his kittens when they were frightened by the wind screams of an early snow-time storm. Life Shaper was a very brave two-leg, for all she was young, and soon responded to his purrs with mouth noises. He was puzzled when he realized that once her fear ebbed, she began to feel a different sort of fear, a protective one. Given how hard she gripped him (although ever careful for his mending injuries) he realized that the fear was for him. Heart Stone sensed that somehow she was relieved that he had not been close enough to confront Stench. While he was glad that she did not feel he had failed to protect her, he also believed this confirmed his conjecture that Stench might have offered some threat to Life Shaper.
Eventually, they went back to the lower portion of the nesting place, and Life Shaper finished the task she had been doing before Stench’s arrival. At her insistence, Heart Stone went outside, but she made a point of showing him where she had left one of the smaller flaps arranged so he could come and go as he wished, without letting the weather inside.
He was burrowing through the duff beneath the golden leaf, looking for the pressure flaker he had dropped, when he heard the sound of another flying thing approaching. This one though, held the cheerful mind-glows of Climbs Quickly and the Person Heart Stone had decided to call Sharp Sight because of his obviously keen vision and tendency to note details others might have missed, as well as of their two-legs. He was glad. Life Shaper would be glad of friends at this time, and he could tell from the excitement in the mind-glows of his two new People friends that they had something they were eager to share with him. He wondered if it might be cluster stalk, but maybe it was some other treat.
Tucking his tools in his carry net, Heart Stone slid inside the nest so he would be with Life Shaper when she realized she had guests. When the signal drumming sounded against the entry flap, he felt the flash of panic in Life Shaper’s mind-glow. He purred reassuringly at her, then jumped down to lead her, tail high, to the entry flap. He heard her make the soft, low pleasure sound that he was coming to think was the equivalent to a Person’s bleek of laughter, then some mouth noises. She then rose to follow him, taking with her the heavy stick she sometimes used to relieve the pressure on her injured ankle.
At the entry flap, she took the time to survey outside before snapping open various things that must be intended to keep someone from entering without permission. She made a happy noise when she saw that those without included the young male who had been adopted by Sharp Sight and Climbs Quickly’s young female. Their mind-glows held confusion at Life Shaper’s reaction, then grew concerned as she made mouth noises at them.
Climbs Quickly’s and Sharp Sight’s mind-glows also held confusion and concern, followed with a faint touch of frustration. Heart Stone felt certain they had tried to ask him what had happened, only to remember that he was deaf to their mind-voices. However, none of the pity Heart Stone loathed followed, only a warm practicality. He wondered if it was the fact that Climbs Quickly and Sharp Sight were both scouts, a calling that demanded a degree of adaptability, that made them so quick to accept his limitation.
Instead, Climbs Quickly leapt down from where he had perched on his two-leg and made a quick, short bound in the direction of the golden leaf he knew was Heart Stone’s favorite perch. Heart Stone paused, uncertain if he should leave Life Shaper. But although she was making rapid mouth noises at her friends, she hadn’t missed what was going on with the three People. Again she made the happy sound, then followed it with a shooing gesture that was easy to understand. Heart Stone decided he would take her suggestion. He didn’t yet know these two two-legs well, but both of their mind-glows radiated strength and determination. The little female had barked very fiercely at Stench when they had encountered him before. If she had possessed hackles, surely she would have raised them. Life Shaper would be safe with these two, and perhaps even relax more easily if she didn’t guess how concerned Heart Stone was about her peace of mind.
Perhaps I shall call the little female Fierce Fighter, for whatever else there is to her—and there is a brilliance to her mind-glow that is astonishing in one who is mind blind—she is both those things. What to call the male? Determined Defender feels right. He is less quick-tempered, I think, but I would not want to be the death fang that went after his clan.
Pleased with the decision that finally gave him suitable names for Life Shaper’s friends, Heart Stone bleeked agreement to Climbs Quickly’s suggestion, then leapt ahead to lead them to his little nest, as was polite when hosting guests.
Once they were comfortably settled, he reached into the cranny in the golden leaf’s trunk where he had stashed his most recent handiwork. The flint Climbs Quickly had given him had proven sufficient to make blades for two knives. These he had mounted on handles made from the shed horn blade antlers that he had scavenged in those seeming long-ago days before he had met Life Shaper. He had been finishing polishing them shortly before Stench had arrived.
Even before he had come to live with Life Shaper and her clan, Heart Stone had noted the many tools the two-legs created to enable them to compensate for their lack of fangs and claws, including knives, one of which he had found hardly at all damaged and now used for himself.
The two-legs had other knives he looked forward to getting a closer look at. These looked like a handle without a blade until the two-leg did something to make it come alive. Then there was a humming, and these bladeless knives cut better than did flint or obsidian, or even the marvelous stuff of which his salvaged knife was made. Although Heart Stone had not witnessed such for himself in the short time he had lived with the two-legs, he guessed that the two-legs would use their knives as weapons as well, especially at times when their formidable thunder barkers might be inappropriate or excessive.
By contrast, People used knives as cutting tools, not as weapons. No mere knife could compete with the drawing edge of a Person’s claws for sharpness, but claws were short. Something longer was often needed, and while teeth could be used to cut, if necessary, that was messy, and plant matter often tasted quite terrible. So knives were useful, if not absolutely necessary.
When Climbs Quickly had presented Heart Stone with the piece of flint some days before, Heart Stone had been puzzled why the scout, who surely had access to not-stone knives, would want something made of stone. But then he had felt the eagerness in Climbs Quickly’s mind-glow and been flattered to realize that Climbs Quickly valued Heart Stone’s work for its beauty, not merely for utility. Therefore, when making these knives, he had taken great care that the flaking was symmetrical, and the pattern of the knife blade also displayed the beauty of the flint.
For once, Heart Stone was happy he couldn’t mind-speak, because he surely would have been tempted to say something apologetic, for he was definitely out of practice. At the same time, he believed he had done a good job. Fleetingly, he wondered if Life Shaper might like a stone knife, or perhaps something to hang from her earlobes or around her neck for adornment, as he had seen her littermates do when going forth.
Climbs Quickly and Sharp Sight bleeked with pleasure when he slid the knives over to them, handle first, as was customary. They patted their true hands together in a gesture that looked both odd and strangely familiar, until Heart Stone realized that they were borrowing a gesture the two-legs made when pleased or excited.
Interesting, Heart Stone thought. We People do not need gestures, because we can read each other’s mind-glows, but even if the mouth sounds are indeed a peculiar form of communication, gestures would augment them, perhaps provide emotional content.
As he had in the healing place, when he was still hardly aware of his new bond to Life Shaper, Heart Stone found himself wondering how he could learn more about how the two-legs managed to understand each other. Sound alone would be so very limiting, and would only work when within hearing.
No wonder Life Shaper was so frightened when Stench was stalking her. Unlike a Person, she could not call to any within range, as Musty would have been if he were a Person. They are so fragile, so isolated, poor kittens.
He came out of his reflections when he realized that Climb’s Quickly was gently tapping one of his true feet with the tip of his tail. Again, Heart Stone was struck by how two-leg the gesture was. A Person would have no need to get another’s attention by touch.
“Bleek?” Heart Stone offered to show he understood that Climbs Quickly wanted his attention.
Climbs Quickly’s earlier excitement was once again flooding his mind-glow. Rising to his true-feet, he turned, carefully orienting his body and then raised both true-hands and hand-feet to point in the same direction in which he had angled his nose. Sharp Sight imitated Climbs Quickly, then Climbs Quickly bounded down from the golden leaf and leapt to the top of the flying thing where it slept. There he resumed the point, carefully indicating the same direction. Sharp Sight then rose to his true-feet and did a remarkable imitation of Life Shaper shooing the three People off to enjoy themselves.
Climbs Quickly and Keen Eyes want me to go somewhere with them. Somewhere we must use the flying thing to reach, so it is not merely to see some local curiosity or to go hunting for some tasty tree hopper.
Heart Stone felt a roiling storm of emotions within him. He was no fool. He knew what lay in that direction: Bright Water, the clan he had left behind him. Climbs Quickly and Sharp Sight were asking him if he wanted to go to Bright Water, indicating that the two-legs could close the great distance between this place and the clan’s lands with their thing.
Would I go with them to Bright Water? I will not. I have left that life behind me. For the second time today, I am happy that I do not need to speak. For now, let them believe that I am reluctant to go chasing about in the forest when Life Shaper is unsettled.
But he thought that even though he pointed to where Life Shaper was and wrapped his tail around his toes, they were not fooled. Nor did he think this was the end of their asking. But he would keep refusing. He was glad for his new friends, but there was no going back, neither for him, nor for the family he had left because he could not bear their pity.