Eileen Wilks - Night Season

IN the east, dawn smeared a promise across the inky sky, but air and earth were dark yet. At an abandoned house just outside Midland, Texas, a pair of headlights shut off. A man and a woman climbed out of a 2005 Toyota Corolla.

"I keep thinking we've forgotten something," the woman said as she popped the trunk. She was tall and angular, with a runner's build and with strong shoulders—not pretty, but striking. She wore jeans, hiking boots, and a dark sweater; no makeup. Her hair was long and straight, a medium brown; her skin, an indeterminate tan that looked more Anglo than not; but she had the broad, high cheeks and strong nose of her mother's people, the Dine. Navajo, as outsiders named them. "I always forget something."

The man gave her a singularly sweet smile. He, too, was tall, angular, and athletic, his only remarkable facial feature, his eyes. The gray of a winter sky, they were heavily lashed and set off by the dark slashes of his brows. Some might guess him to have Native American blood as well, based on his coppery skin and black hair. They would be wrong.

"We have everything on our list," he said as they pulled camping equipment from the trunk. "If we failed to plan for some need, we'll make do." He paused. "You're frightened."

She nodded, though she looked and sounded almost placid. "Not all the way to real panic yet. About a six on the ohmygod scale."

"Well, then." He put down the duffel bag he'd been holding and folded her in his arms. "Let's see if we can get it down to a four, at least."

"Mmm," she said after a moment, the sound muffled by his neck. "Yes, but we won't get much done like this. My anxieties say inaction would be fine, the lying rats. That we can just can stand around and nuzzle each other. But your queen is going to except some promptness, I think."

"Among other things. She's a great one for expectations." He let a few inches come between them without releasing her. "You're all right, Kai?"

"I guess I can be scared and okay at the same time. Excited, too. It's a whole new world, after all. I'm all boggled about it." Kai drew air in through her nose, sighed it out, and nodded once. "Let's get moving."

She shrugged into her backpack and tucked the sleeping bags beneath her arms. They'd not be afoot long, so the weight wasn't a major issue. Still, he carried more of it, which was sensible. Nathan was probably five times as strong as she normally was, and she wasn't normal now. Hunger gnawed at her, a hunger food couldn't satisfy since it wasn't her hunger. She tired quickly, too.

Not for much longer, though.

Kai's backpack held a change of clothes, thermal underthings, plenty of clean socks and underwear, their medical kit, and a few more odds and ends. Nathan's carried the heavier items—their cleverly compact tent, camping tools, and trade goods: several packets of cinnamon; a roll of zippable plastic bags; a pair of small, sharp axes; four very fine knives; two boxes of nails; a hammer and a small spade; and a pound each of gold and silver made up into chains.

Nathan lifted the oversize duffel and they walked slowly away from the car. Kai's friend Ginger would retrieve it later today. Ginger knew Kai was leaving with Nathan, but had no inkling just how far they meant to travel. The story Kai had given her for abandoning the vehicle out here was pretty lame, as Ginger had pointed out several times, but Kai was used to Ginger's inquisitiveness. And Ginger was used to not getting all of her questions answered.

Kai hoped hard that she would see her friend again. "You're looking forward to this."

"Parts of it, yes. Your home is lovely, but I've been here a long time. And even with the recent influx of magic, it's still a bit thin here for me." Without breaking stride or changing tone he added, "You'll do, Kai. I know you've doubts, and that's as it should be, for this quest is a testing. But you'll do."

And that, of course, was where the ohmygod scale came from. Not a fear of running out of tampons. Though she sincerely hoped she'd packed enough, if she hadn't, she'd make do. The fear that she couldn't learn enough, understand enough, to do what she was supposed to—oh, yes, that was huge.

One step at a time , she reminded herself, following him through the darkness around the side of the old house. He could see here, she thought. She couldn't, not yet—certainly not in the shadow of the derelict building. She couldn't beat his footsteps, either. Just her own.

They reached what she would have called the backyard had it possessed anything other than dirt, trash, and dead weeds. Kai could see those weeds now, their rustly skeletons smudging air on its way from black to gray. The sky had lightened from ink to charcoal overhead, with a band of steel along the horizon. She moved up beside Nathan.

Like Grandfather said, swallowing tomorrow's troubles will give you gas today. And yet… "I don't see why we're doing it this way. You could find it. That's what you do ."

"I could, once I got the scent. But that isn't what my queen wishes. And no," he said with a sideways smile for her, "while her wishes are sufficient for me, I don't expect you to accept them without a question or two. I imagine she saw something that led her to send us this way about things, rather than another."

"By 'saw' do you mean foreseeing? Or farseeing?"

"Likely both. Odds are, she has her hand on a pattern developing there, and this is the best way for it to proceed."

"Or she may just want to make this as hard as possible on me."

"That's also possible. Eh." He rubbed his nose with his free hand. "You're all puckered with worry, and a bit angry, too, and I'm still giddy with relief, which is a bad match in our moods. But it will work out, Kai. You'll see."

Nathan was giddy because his queen hadn't killed her six days ago. Kai had been pretty relieved herself at the time. The queen and her brother had thought she was a binder, a rare and dangerous type of telepath who could bind others to her will. Nathan had stood for her, placing himself between them and her, though he couldn't have stopped them. They'd all known that.

But he'd bought a pause, one in which the queen had listened, because she loved him enough to give him that much. In the end, Kai was allowed to live—for now. But not here. Not where people couldn't protect themselves from her.

She felt the bitterness coating that thought. She also saw it, strings of greasy gray wrapping the thought as if to mummify it. Oh, she'd seen what happened if you held on to such thoughts, seen people trapped by bitter thoughts too long hoarded, how the grayness strangled all the color out of them. She took a breath and did her best to let the thought and the bitterness go, and was rewarded as they faded away.

Kai wasn't exactly a telepath. She wasn't a non-telepath, either, just as she wasn't exactly a binder, yet could do some of what binders did. Her Gift baffled everyone, including herself. Maybe herself most of all. She didn't read minds, but she saw thoughts and the emotions connected to those thoughts. And sometimes, when conditions were just right—or wrong—she changed minds. Literally.

After a lifetime of suppressing that particular talent, now she had to learn how to master it. Quickly. Before it mastered her.

She felt the purr before she heard it, a low rumbling in her mind. A moment later a lumpy spot ten feet ahead of them shifted and stretched, becoming eight feet of dappled gray cat. Kai smiled. "Dell's purely glad about this, anyway."

"She understands we're leaving now?"