Rook Winters - Weight of Ashes

“Only a hundred or so. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“I can appreciate that but I mean any immediately pressing questions.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Alright, then clear your calendar and buckle up.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s an old figure of speech. It means to get ready, you’re going to be busy.”

“Oh.”

Colleen turned to Marsh. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course. Just give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you back here. Court, walk with me.”

The two men walked the perimeter of the village, something they used to do together every few days when Court was apprenticing with Marsh.

“I feel it’s only fair to warn you that the vote was not unanimous.”

“Paul?”

“And Anica. They share concerns about your age. They think I’m playing favorites.”

“So a three to two vote. Not a very welcoming start.”

“Give them a few weeks to adjust. Work hard and be pleasant. Soon enough, the demands of daily tasks will outweigh their concerns and you’ll simply be part of the team.”

“What if that doesn’t happen?”

“It will, I’m confident. Besides, it will be a tremendous learning opportunity for you either way. Consider it an advanced apprenticeship, a little bonus lesson from me.”

“I’m worried about you going away by yourself.”

“I’ll hardly be alone. The whole point is to take Elle.”

“I meant without someone who knows how to survive in the woods. You should be taking someone else with you, like you did for your trip to Alma.”

“That’s part of why I wanted to speak with you. I’m not willing to put anyone from the village at risk. I might have completely misinterpreted Clint’s message. Or Nora might, in fact, be long dead as Paul suggests. And I think Elle is more of a survivor than you give her credit for. But she is lacking in some basic training. I’d like for you to spend the day tomorrow teaching her as much as you can. Show her what’s safe to eat. Make sure she can build a fire. Teach her how to hunt with a mag gun. Show her how to dress and roast it. Rabbit as well as dog or coywolf if you can.”

“Yes, of course. That’ll be a full day. I’d better go tell Elle to be ready for an early start tomorrow.”

Court and Elle spent the morning collecting edible plants and talking about the unpleasant effects of eating the ones they weren’t collecting. Near midday, they chanced upon a rabbit sitting in a clearing. Court handed the mag gun to Elle. She hesitated, her face twisted in disgust. She finally brought the gun up and fired, the arrow lodging in the upper hind leg. The rabbit tried to limp away; Court was on it in an instant.

Elle gave a tiny wail as the animal twitched in his hands.

“This time you’ll need to watch. First thing you do, break the neck.” Court grabbed the neck and snapped the head back with his other hand. Elle flinched as if the movement had hurt her. She watched in silence while he showed her how to skin and clean it.

“I really don’t want to do that myself.”

“You’ll change your mind when you’re out here half-starved and living off sour high bush cranberries.”

She was more at ease with fire building, which she took to as naturally as she had the mag gun. They sat on the ground and ate a hearty lunch of roasted rabbit, bittercress, peppergrass, and thistle.

“It’s not potatoes and corn but it’ll keep you alive,” Court said as he licked food from his fingers. “What did you think?”

“I didn’t mind the thistle root.”

“That’s good because it’s easy to find. I have to say that was a successful morning. I thought it would take longer. Only other thing Marsh asked me to show you was how to dress a dog or coywolf.”

“Why would I need to know that?”

“Feral dogs are easy targets and still reasonably plentiful the closer you get to where people used to live. We’ll have to walk an hour or two to find one but I know where a few packs have claimed some territory.”

“But why would I need to dress one?”

He raised his eyebrows, trying to understand her question. “Wait, do you think—” He started to chuckle. “Did you think I meant put clothes on a dog?” His chuckle grew into a full belly laugh. She threw a rabbit bone at him and he rolled to one side so that it sailed past him.

“Stop it.”

“I mean, sure, maybe that could help you and Marsh survive your trip. I’m not sure how but it might.”

She threw a pine cone that bounced off his temple.

“Ow.”

“You deserved that.”

“Dressing is what we call prepping the animal after the kill.”

“I know that.”

“Sure, now that I’ve told you.”

She threw another pine cone at him but her small grin told him it was in fun.

Court felt light as he packed the uncooked half of the rabbit and Elle buried the smoldering remains of their fire.

“You will need to be careful with scavengers like dogs and coywolves too close to where people live. If they’re eating the gar—” He stopped abruptly. “Do you hear that?”

“The humming?”

“That sounds like a grav flyer, like the one that… No. The village. We have to get back. Now.”

He didn’t wait for her response. He snatched the mag gun and his pouch with extra ammo and ran. Branches snapped and whiplashed as he crashed through them at a full sprint.

The hum grew louder then softer as the flyer overhead outpaced him.

Marsh said they would come looking someday. It’s too soon.

More humming. Another flyer passed overhead. Then a third.

No!

The undigested meal shook inside him. His lungs screamed for a break. He kept running. Only the village mattered. His legs burned but he didn’t slow down. Ahead, he saw the forest brightening where the trees gave way to the clearing around the village.

He spotted a rabbit snare as his foot was about to go into its loop. Court jumped to one side to avoid it and pushed off the trunk of a tree to correct for the sudden change in direction. He lost just enough speed for Elle to catch up and tackle him.

“Get off me.” He struggled to get back up, but she kept her full weight on his back.

“What are doing? You can’t run in there with a toy gun. They’ll shoot you before you get across the clearing.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what’s going on. I need to be there.”

“I do know that. I watched them do it already. So did you.”

He turned on his side enough to get his arm free. He grabbed her hair and pulled. She rolled off, moving fast enough to keep him from ripping a handful from her scalp.

“Court, stop. I don’t want to lose you like this. Please.” He hesitated on his hands and knees. “They will kill you if you just charge in there.”

“What am I supposed to do? Hide out here and hope they leave after a friendly chat?”

“Let’s just look first. Quietly. Alright?”

He nodded and hated himself for it even if she was right.

They moved along the perimeter of the village, staying a dozen trees deep in the woods, until they found a vantage point through a gap in the forest near the southwest trail. The grav flyers floated just above the clearing. Court counted fourteen armed men in body armor. Men, not Qyntarak. He estimated thirty villagers were huddled together, standing back sixty or seventy feet, watching.

He whispered, “Is it normal for humans to use grav flyers?”

“I’ve never seen it before, at least not at the research center. The Others fly them.”

One of the outsiders led Marsh into the clearing, yanking on the old man’s free arm while he tried to keep pace with his walking stick. Court tensed.