Page 24 of Red in Tooth and Claw

Chapter Twenty-four

A problem quickly presented itself in regard to our transportation, namely that there were two horses and three people. Tallis solved this by swinging me up behind him over my protests. He clucked his tongue, and the horses moved forward at a steady walk, Chirp and Roon trotting alongside.

“I’ll ride behind Will,” I huffed, making my ribs twinge.

“He’s a much bigger man,” Tallis said mildly. “You will not fit, Little Fox.”

I didn’t think Will was that much bigger, though he was a fair-sized man, and I said so.

Tallis ignored me. Will started whistling, ignoring us both.

I knew better than to huff again, but I wanted to. Badly. “Then I’ll walk.”

“No,” both men said in unison.

I distinctly disliked being outvoted. I sulked at this. It wasn’t that I minded being pressed against Tallis’s back. In fact, the problem was that I didn’t mind enough. He was warm and he smelled good. I liked it too much, and it was making me uncomfortable. I considered sliding down off the horse.

Tallis, as was his way of things, seemed to read my mind. “If you slide off this horse and try to walk, we’ll tie you to the saddle. It’ll be far less comfortable, and you’ll be more unhappy.”

“That’s not fair!” I said hotly.

Tallis shrugged.

“You’re bullies,” I grumbled and thought about dismounting anyway, despite their protests and their logic.

“Faolan, I sat and watched you almost die for three days. If you don’t have the good sense to ride on my nice horse while you are injured, then, yes, I will be a bully, and I won’t lose a wink of sleep over it.” For all that Tallis’s tone was mild, there was a hidden steel to his words.

My jaw snapped shut.

Will went back to whistling.

I wasn’t used to anyone saying such things about me, not since Pops, and even then, he wasn’t much for words.

I kept my trap shut and let the conversation drop like a feather, floating slowly away.

We stuck to the trees, letting the horses pick their way along a game path, the undergrowth thick along our sides. I dozed for a while, the rocking of the horse making me sleepy, and the knowledge that Tallis wouldn’t let me fall making me feel safe.

I hadn’t been able to hand over my safety like that to another person for what felt like years. That kind of security was something you didn’t notice or realize you even had until it was gone. Suddenly you’re adrift, a leaf tossing through white water rapids. Small, lost, and achingly fragile.

I realized that just as suddenly, that had been reversed. I’d been plucked out of the rapids. Gone from having no one to having someone. Someones. Jesse. Dai Lo. Will. Tallis. Chirp. Even Miss Moon, in her fashion. And when you had that feeling back, you held on with an iron grip.

That was why I was going back. Why I needed to go back. Jesse and Dai Lo had rescued me. I wasn’t about to let them drown, not when I could help it. They saved me first. Now it was my turn.

From down along the forest floor, I heard Chirp make a soft trilling noise. He understood. Somehow, he knew why I needed to go back, without me saying words at all. I wondered how much of what I thought or felt was filtering down to him. And how much of that he comprehended.

Tallis led us to a small clearing that wasn’t entirely natural. Someone had used it as a place to camp before. Large trees surrounded us, along with the bushes and plant life around the forest floor. Wind and time had moved most of the leaf litter from last fall to the edges of the clearing. It would be difficult for anyone to approach without us hearing.

The clearing itself was mostly moss, but the rocks had been moved and used to make a circle around a pit for a campfire.

Tallis helped me slide down from Neev before he followed suit. “We’ll dig the pit down a little deeper. If we keep the fire small, there won’t be much light.”

“How close are we to the Settlement?” Will asked, gracefully sliding from the saddle to the ground. “They’ll see the smoke, surely?”

Tallis shrugged. “We’re on Rover land, and this spot is used often enough that they likely won’t pay much attention to the smoke. I might be willing to skip the fire if it was only about food, but we’ll need it to make Faolan’s tea, and to ward off the chill. Temperature still drops drastically at night, and we won’t do anyone a lick of good if we’re half frozen.”

I was given the task of gathering kindling so we could start the fire. It was time for my tea, and they didn’t want me to do anything on the strenuous side. I had the feeling I was only allowed to go out of sight to gather because I had both Roon and Chirp with me. Roon was marking our territory in the time-honored way of canines, darting from tree to tree, but Chirp padded along at my side, curious. After I had a small handful of sticks, he seemed to understand my mission, and starting digging about more.

He pawed at a fallen branch, giving a little trill.

“That’s too big, at least for now.” He seemed to droop, and I hated to see him downcast. “We’ll mark it for later, when we need bigger wood. I bet Tallis has a hatchet in all of his gear. This branch would make good logs.”

Chirp preened then, scooting along happily to the next find. It was a silly thing to take joy in, this gathering of supplies, but the cave cat made me laugh nonetheless. As did Roon, whenever he pounced onto a pile of leaves or brush. Such joy in this world was fleeting, and I’d learned to gather it to myself when I could.

By the time I made it back to the campsite, Tallis and Will had used ropes to secure a length of the canvas to tree branches, creating a makeshift roof. The other length was stretched along the ground, held down by a handful of fist-sized stones.

“It won’t keep the wind off,” Will said, double-checking the knots. “But it will keep us dry.”

“In this case, I’d prefer to see what was coming than hang more canvas.” Tallis took my armful of twigs, smiling at Chirp and taking the one he had in his mouth. He turned to Roon. “What did you bring, eh? How have you earned your supper?”

The dog tilted his head and huffed at him. It was a look that gave the sense that Roon was saying, I kept these two out of trouble. Surely you don’t expect me to do that and carry wood. It made me smile.

“It’s good to see you smile,” Tallis said, setting up the sticks into a cone structure.

“Don’t reckon either of us have had much to smile about as of late,” Will said, bringing over the small bundle that held his steel, flint, and a bundle of dried moss that he’d gathered at some point. “?’Course, I suppose we should both be grinning like fools over the fact that we’re still breathing.”

“I reckon you’re right, gunslinger.” It was frankly a miracle that I still held the breath of life in my chest. “Let’s hope that our luck holds.”

“I would like our luck to be a little better,” Tallis grumbled. “Before you lose a limb.”

“I’m good at staying in one piece,” I said softly, sitting tailor-fashion on the ground. I was tired from gathering wood, which was a sad commentary on things, for me to be worn out so easily.

Tallis grunted but didn’t say anything. He let Will get working on the fire while he finished taking care of the horses. As the fire caught, Tallis brought me the fiddle case.

I looked up at him, my brow furrowed. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

I took the fiddle case, not bothering to hide my confusion as I figured out why Tallis was so fixed on me fiddling. I would not put on false modesty and say I wasn’t any good, but now was hardly the time. Yet, Tallis did things for a reason. I just couldn’t figure out what that reason might be.

Tallis sat next to me on the ground with his guitar. “What I’m going to show you—both of you—must be kept between yourselves. No one else. Not even your friends.”

I examined both Tallis and Will, who appeared as lost as I was. “Alright,” I finally said.

“You have my word.” Will sounded serious as he tended our small fire.

“Have you ever wondered how a Rover’s sentry system works?” Tallis moved his fingers easily on the guitar strings, checking the sound as he waited for our answer.

“Of course.” I should follow his example and tune the fiddle, but I wanted all of my attention on this. It had been killing me for ages , trying to sort out how Rovers always knew you were entering their camps.

“We use music.” Tallis adjusted one of the strings, his deft fingers moving over them again afterward to pluck out the notes he wanted. More notes but not more words. “A Rover trick.”

“There must be more to it than that ,” I said, irritated when he didn’t continue his explanation.

“You have no patience, Little Fox.”

“I have pounds of patience,” I said. “Have I punched you yet? No, I have not. If you knew how often I’ve thought about it, you would applaud my patience.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Peace, Little Fox, peace. Yes, there’s more to it than that. There’s the song itself, but there’s also the musician.” He tapped his thumb against the body of the guitar. “I could teach this song to everyone at the Settlement, but it probably wouldn’t do a thing for them.”

“But you think it will work for Faolan?” Will asked.

Tallis nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” Sometimes simple questions were the best.

“Because I’ve heard you play,” Tallis said, resettling his guitar more comfortably in his hold. “I’ll play through. You listen.”

Tallis started playing then, slowly the first time through. The song didn’t sound like anything I’d heard before. It didn’t seem to have any words. To be honest, it reminded me more of birdsong than something a human would call forth.

He sped up for the second run-through, and this time I could hear the song’s…message? That’s what it sounded like to me. A clear message. Maybe that’s why it reminded me so much of birdsong. The notes were beautiful—but an unspoken warning, though I could feel the words in my very bones. This is our nest, and you are not welcome. This is our nest and not for you.

It was both as simple as that and more complicated.

Tallis paused after the second round. “Do you hear it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Stick to the song, okay?” He frowned at me. “This isn’t the kind of thing you add flourishes to. Understand?”

I was fair certain I did. Any deviation on my part might change the message, and that wasn’t what we wanted.

I readied my fiddle and closed my eyes, waiting for Tallis to start playing again. I let him run through the melody on his own for one round. The second time, I joined him, my fingers moving to strings of their own accord. I didn’t think, letting my mind go quiet, letting the music flow through me.

It was short, Tallis’s song, so we played through a few times. Playing the song felt different. It was difficult to explain, but it was like a little bit of me went out with the notes. Musicians always put a little of ourselves into our music, but not like this. Never like this.

Suddenly the tune was over, our little glade eerily quiet. I popped my eyes open to find Chirp sitting right next to me, staring me down. He was purring.

“He likes the music,” Tallis said.

Chirp started growl-talking then, and it sounded like a complaint. I brought my fiddle back up, picking my way through the notes again, my eyes on Chirp. Tallis followed my lead this time, joining in after a few notes.

Chirp began to hum, more feeling than sound. I felt it in my chest, a vibration. It reminded me of the noise crystal makes when you strike it. It resonated. This time when we finished the song there was a whomp , like a giant had let out a gust of breath. The feeling nipped pleasantly along my skin.

Tallis stood, setting his guitar down on the ground. He walked into the trees, Will on his heels. I nestled my fiddle back in its case before taking a moment to scratch Chirp’s head and croon at him. When I caught up to them, Tallis and Will were staring at their feet.

Tallis glanced at Will. “You can feel it?”

Will adjusted his hat. “Yup. Tingly feet.” He took a large step forward. “No tingly feet.”

Tallis turned to me then, dropping onto his haunches so he could look Chirp in the eye. “What did you do, hm?”

Chirp sniffed, not deigning to respond.

I frowned. “Is it bad? Whatever he did?”

Tallis turned his gaze on me, the usual laughter in his eyes missing. A solemn Tallis was a powerful thing. I crossed my arms so I didn’t give in to the strange compulsion to run my fingers along the lines of his face.

The corner of his lip kicked up, like he knew full well what I was thinking. “No, I don’t think it’s bad. But Will’s never felt our warning system before, and now he can. Our sentry shouldn’t be this far out.”

He gave Chirp a scratch, then stood. “Normally it only goes as far as the music travels. When Rovers set up camp, we send our musicians out to the edges to play. The song goes out, casting our magic like a net. As far as it touches, that’s where our sentries are.”

I gave a low whistle. No wonder it was impossible to sneak up on a Rover camp. Invisible sentries. It hit me then, how much Tallis must trust us. This was a big secret he was letting us in on, and something we could use against his entire people.

“So it’s…good?” Will asked.

Tallis frowned. “I think so? It seems more powerful. Chirp appears quite pleased with himself.” He scratched the cave cat’s head. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

Chirp huffed in a very smug manner.

Will clapped his hands together once. “Alright, perimeter is handled. Camp set up. I suggest we get some grub into us and nap if we can. It’s going to be a long night.”

I thought for sure I wouldn’t be tired, but after I drank my tea and ate a quick meal, I felt my eyelids drooping. I took off my boots, crawling into my bedroll. Chirp curled up next to me. Will slept on the other side of Chirp, his hat over his eyes, and Tallis and Roon had my back. Between that and the perimeter magic, I felt safer than I had in months. I dug a hand into Chirp’s short fur, feeling his steady heartbeat. I was asleep between one breath and the next.

When I woke up, it was dusk. I’ll admit that I felt better for the sleep. Warmth blanketed me on both sides, and I realized that Chirp had stretched out against me, and at some point, Tallis had rolled over so his front was along my back. One hand rested on my hip in a very familiar fashion. I could feel it like a hot coal, even through my trousers. Judging by their steady breathing, they were still asleep.

I would have happily dozed back off if Will hadn’t appeared above me with a mug of my tea.

I sighed and tried to crawl out from between Chirp and Tallis, both of them grumbling in their sleep as I did. I took the mug from Will and sat down by the small fire he’d built. He had a pot nestled into the coals. I peeked under the lid, and it took a minute for me to figure out what I was seeing. It was a soup blend the Rovers liked to travel with—they would bundle up rice, dried corn, peppers, and seasonings. If you had a potato or a few vegetables to throw in, or maybe some meat, great, but if not, it was a filling meal on its own.

Will had chopped in a potato or two, it looked like, and something else. I sniffed, trying to figure it out.

“Dried fish,” Will said. “Tallis packed some into the stores we had. Thought a warm meal before we went off to do something boneheaded was wise.”

“As possible last meals go,” I said, “it’s not bad.” The joke didn’t even coax a hint of a smile out of Will. He was unshakably grim this evening. He waved at my mug of tea, and I drank it dutifully. I was feeling better from the rest and the food, but I still felt a little on the delicate side, as if I were dandelion fluff bracing against a stiff breeze.

Tallis was up shortly after and we ate our meal, speaking little, and of nothing of consequence. As night began to fall around us, we got ready. I checked my clothes, looking for anything light-colored or shiny that might attract attention. Tallis did the same to the saddles while Will eyed me with a frown.

“I’m worried about your face,” Will said.

“Me too,” I said evenly.

Will ignored me. “I know you go outside, and yet, you’re pale as a ghost.”

I shrugged. As a rule, redheads didn’t tan well. In my case, the sun just turned me red, then I peeled, and I was back to ghostly.

“We could cover her face with soot,” Tallis suggested.

I shook my head. “If I get caught in the building with a soot-covered face, there is no way I can talk my way out of that.”

“I don’t see any way you could talk your way out of the situation if you get caught. There’s no excuse for you showing up there in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” I said. “I’m a ghost. I died on the trails, and I’m here to haunt them.”

“Shall we powder you in flour, then, like they do for ghosts in plays?” Tallis said, his mouth curving. “And does that mean we’ll have to be floured as well? Otherwise, what, we’re just escorting your spirit about the Settlement?”

Will snorted. “I bet even as a ghost, you could use an escort.”

I wanted to argue, but I had a gut-deep feeling he might be right. “I’ll just keep a hat on, my chin tucked, and hope for the best.”