Nora smiled and squeezed Lucy’s hand. “And soft pillows, as many as you’d like.”
Nora wasted no time surrounding Lucy with books, elated to finally have someone with a quick mind who wanted to learn her craft. Bailey was acceptable as an assistant, Nora explained, but her calloused hands and abrupt manner made her a less than desirable caregiver. Nora sat on the floor across from Lucy for days, showing her how to navigate the huge books and pull the streams of information from them. They were piled all around the two of them like a paper fort, the words protecting them from the many-faced specter of illnesses, the pages muffling the sounds of Lander moving Lynn from her room. Lander and Nora had both thought it best if Lucy and Lynn were kept separate for a while. Nothing should strain Lucy’s nerves as she searched the desert for water.
As the days crept by, Lucy felt as if her emptiness was growing to fill all her corners, leaving room for nothing else. Worry and fear slipped away, anger and happiness following shortly thereafter. Even Ben’s ill attempts at humor could not grate on nerves that didn’t exist anymore, and Lucy floated in a cloud of nothing as the cooler breezes of fall played with the short ends of her hair once Lander set her to the witching again.
The big man’s patience was stretched. Two of the wells she had marked earlier had run dry only days after being struck, and his hands fell on her shoulders more heavily than when she had first arrived. Lucy tried to ignore the increasing pressure of his fingers on her arm as they walked the flags together and she tried to discern which veins ran deeper than others. She’d been able to make out the wild maelstrom of Lynn’s hair in the wind on top of the hotel where her rifle still rang from, and while she could ignore Lynn’s presence, she couldn’t rid her mind of Lynn’s words that had warned of danger.
“So you staying?” Ben asked as they roamed the desert to the east of the city, his arms loaded with flags dirty from reuse after marking failed wells.
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Lucy said.
“I don’t care either way what you do,” Ben said airily, striking a flag into the ground even though she hadn’t told him to. “But I know who does.”
“I’m not talking to you about Lynn.”
“Didn’t mean her,” Ben said. “It’s my dad. Every well you’ve marked has been as useful as a stream of piss.”
“Know a lot about those, do you?”
“Lynn’s mowed a path to every unreachable water tank we had. She’s earned her way, even if she’s not warming up to Dad. You were supposed to save us, but so far all you’ve done is set us to digging holes with mud at the bottom.”
Lucy snapped her stick upward, grabbing it with both hands to keep herself under control. “Oh yeah, and what about you? What do you do that’s so special?”
Ben looked at Lucy, imperious even with a bundle of muddy flags clutched to his puffed-up chest. “I’m smart.”
“Really?” Lucy slung her stick over her shoulder, finished witching for the day even if there were flags left. “That’s your big contribution? You’re smart?”
Ben’s upper lip curled, and his small face contorted into a grimace so fierce for a moment Lucy forgot she was bigger than him.
“I’ll show you. You need to learn exactly where you stand. And where I stand too.”
Dormant emotions laced through her and Lucy glared back, grateful to feel something after the weeks of nothing. “You don’t know the things I’ve been through in order to stand at all.”
A grim kind of satisfaction rippled across Ben’s eyes, and he smiled. “Tomorrow then.”
Thirty-Two
“Lucy?”
Lynn’s voice crept into her dreams, bringing visions of home and green fields. The present evaporated like the rain that never fell, and Lucy turned toward the voice, reaching her hand out before she was fully awake. The familiar touch of weathered hands brought Lucy to consciousness and she sat up quickly, a streak of fear pulling her forward.
Lynn sat at the foot of Lucy’s bed, her face a pale circle in the moonlight, her dark hair lost in the inky blackness of the room. She had one finger to her lips, her eyes cautiously sliding over to Nora’s bed.
“How did you get in here?” Lucy hissed, yanking her hand away from Lynn.
“Just be quiet and listen to me,” Lynn whispered. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Lucy pushed herself up against the headboard, knees pulled protectively to her chest. “Talk fast.”
“I’ve been watching, ever since they put me up to shooting the cats. I can see everyone and everything goes on in this town, whether Lander knows it or not.”
“I already know all this,” Lucy said in a regular voice, and Lynn shushed her.