August Ansel - Shadow Road

“She’s been like that all morning,” said Curran.

“She saw it, too, the wolf. And that,” she said to Kory, “is why I want you to take your gun and the dog up to the spring. Come straight back, too. We need to keep an eye peeled, even more than usual.”

“Maybe I should go with him,” said Handy.

She shook her head. “He’ll be fine. He’s got a sharp eye and a fierce companion already.”

“I’ll be right back,” Kory said again. “Don’t worry.” He retrieved the rifle from behind the open door and checked to see that it was loaded.

Arie laid a hand on his arm. “You understand that the wolf is only being a wolf,” she said. “He’s one of the rightful inheritors. His life is his own, just as your life belongs to you. You have this,” she said, tapping one finger on the rifle’s barrel “just in case.”

Kory nodded solemnly. “Just in case.” Then he was out the door. “Let’s go,” he told Talus, and she was on her feet before he made it off the porch. They strode up the trail together, Talus’s busy nose to the ground.

Arie watched until they’d rounded the bend and then rubbed her hands together with a sigh. “There’s a choice to be made.”

“When to leave,” said Renna.

“Yes. We need to decide together and present a united front when Kory gets back here.”

“You’re giving him the choice, though,” said Curran. “Is that still the plan?”

“I told Handy this morning that we’ll let him decide. It’s not like we’re going to tie him up and drag him by his hair.”

“No way he’ll want to stay here alone again,” said Renna.

“I don’t know,” said Handy. “He might have a tougher time deciding than you think.” He told them about Kory’s hope that his father would return. “I reminded him that it’s been a long time. He understands that, but—”

“But he still hopes,” said Renna.

“Yeah. He still hopes.”

Curran crossed his arms and looked around the cluttered room. “Not surprised,” he said. “How else did the kid survive every day here, alone?”

They were all quiet for a moment, imagining it.

“I want to hear from you about our timeline, then,” said Arie. “When do we move out and move on?”

The rest of them still looked around at the piles of goods stacked everywhere.

“Come on, now,” said Arie, “speak up. Curran, what do you say?”

“I’d want a little more time, I guess. Enough to pack properly. Have a few more good meals, extra rest. Also,” he said with a half-shrug, “I’d like to keep working on raising someone on the radio.”

“What does that look like, time-wise?” said Arie.

He glanced around the room, scratching thoughtfully at the back of his head. “A week, I guess. Something like that.”

“Me, too,” said Renna. “At least one week. Besides resting up, it gives Kory a little more time to get used to the idea of leaving.”

Arie found a few inches of space on the hearth, pushed aside a pile of dehydrated meals and a stack of strike-anywhere matches so she could sit. “I don’t care to be the prime driver of this thing, but I don’t imagine it will surprise anyone that I’d rather leave as soon as possible. Two days seems just about right to me.” She batted her eyelashes at them. “Try not to look so shocked,” she said. This finally raised a smile from Renna. “I can’t argue that we could stand more resting-up time. Don’t think for a minute I’m not damned happy to have a bed under me.”

“But?” said Curran.

“But I’m struck all over with a feeling of hurry-hurry-hurry. Truth to tell, it’s almost an itch, at this point—one that won’t let me have a half-hour’s peace before it revs up fresh and makes me want to pace the room and check at the windows.”

As if her words were contagious, Curran sidled over to the tall window by the door and glanced out. “I hear that,” he said. “I just… why the hell did we find all this? What good is it, really, if we have to just turn around and run?” When Handy opened his mouth to reply, Curran waved a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Beats holing up in a damn cave.”

“Well, Brother,” said Arie, “where do you fall on this thing?”

“I suppose I have the itch to get gone, too,” said Handy. “Maybe not so quick as two days,” he said. “But a week feels like we’re pushing our luck.

“How long, then?”

Handy took Renna’s hand and stroked the knuckles with his thumb. “Four days,” he said. “Half a week to rest up and go.”

“Four,” Arie mused. “I believe I can live with my fidgety self that long. Curran, Renna, how does that sit?”

Renna nodded. “I guess we can make it work.”

“Me, too,” said Curran.

“A target to aim for,” said Arie, getting to her feet. “Splendid.”

Renna got up, too, looking weary but resigned. She lifted her palms and gestured at the piles of goods all around them. “Where do we even start?”

“Leave it for now,” said Arie.

Renna gave her a skeptical look. “Four days,” she said.

“Do you hear that?” asked Arie. They listened, and did. It was Kory laughing, heading back already. Get it! he cried from somewhere up the trail, and a single delighted bark from Talus. “When they’re back, why don’t you spend time on target practice, too?” Arie said.

Renna smiled at Handy. “Think you can teach me to shoot like you?”

He tilted his head in a comme ci, comme ça gesture. “Let’s not get out ahead of ourselves,” he said.

“Oh, is that how it is?” She pointed a finger at him in mock defiance. “Challenge accepted, pal. I’ll have you bragging out the other side of your face by dinner.”

Kory and Talus hurtled into the clearing. Kory held a stick over his head and the dog watched it intently, panting in anticipation. Arie saw, with a sense of relief, that the boy had her mandala in his other hand, holding it curled to his chest. He tossed the stick just outside the edge of the clearing, and Talus crashed into the brush after it. A red squirrel fled up the nearest tree in an explosion of angry chatter.

Arie met Kory on the porch. “Here it is,” he said. He handed her the mandala with obvious reverence. “It’s really cool.”

“Oh yes,” she said, and held the small, carved labyrinth next to her own heart. “I’m some relieved to see it, too. Thank you, darling boy.”

“What does it mean?”

“A story for later,” she said. “After dinner, perhaps. For now, tell me: what did you see on your hike?”

“Tracks,” he said, a little breathless. “A wolf, like you said. There were a lot in the mud around the spring, and more at the place where you saw it on the trail. There was fur, too—a little bit hanging on one of the bushes.”

“And what did our friend Talus think of all that?”

“She just sniffed around.”

“Was she happy or worried?” asked Curran.

Kory looked out at the dog, now parked at the base of the tree the squirrel had run up, wagging her tail in a broad arc through the duff below and raising a small cloud of dust. “Just relaxed,” said Kory. “I mean, she only wanted to check out the smell, and then she brought me that stick.”

“Sounds happy to me,” said Curran.

Arie squeezed the back of the boy’s neck. “Well then,” she said. “Why don’t you fill a canteen and get on with your slingshot practice? Make hay while the sun shines.”

“Can we, Handy?” Kory asked.

“Ready when you are,” said Handy. “We need to scrub together some targets.”

“Can I come?” Renna asked Kory. She held up Handy’s slingshot. “I need to get the hang of this thing.”

“Yes,” he said, voice solemn, eyes dancing. “You could make your own, later on. I could help you.” He shot a little deferential glance at Handy. “Or, well… Handy’s the best teacher.” The tops of his ears turned bright pink. He looked at Curran. “Are you coming, too?”