Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)

“Yes.”

“Your family?”

“My mother, two of my brothers.”

“Then I’ll be grateful again Pete’s in good hands. He’s a nice boy. Likes to help people. You didn’t come for supplies, and there are lots of places to stretch your legs where nobody’s going to hold a gun on you. Why’d you come?”

The woman had sharp eyes, Fallon thought, and from the way Tim had listened to her—from the way people with guns had melted away again—she was clearly respected if not technically in charge.

“Mrs. Pickett—”

“Mae.”

“Mae, the Doom’s finished, but the trouble isn’t over.”

“We don’t get much of it here. Nothing worth stealing, too far off the road for Raiders to bother themselves. Government likely doesn’t know or care we’re here.”

“They will. Do you have communications?”

As if it was just another lazy spring afternoon, Mae set her rocker creaking. “That we don’t, unless you count somebody coming through with stories, but that doesn’t happen often. Like I said, we’re off the beaten path, and we’re good with that. No communications, no electricity, no running water. We make do. Most of the young ones leave when they get your age or a bit older. Those who stay? They tend to have somebody they’re taking care of. Sooner or later, there’ll be nobody left but the ghosts.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. You’ve got a good location.” Strategic, Fallon thought. A good place for billeting troops. “There’s a field going to waste over there that could be planted with crops. You’ve got houses that need repair. Electric lines waiting to be powered up.”

“How we gonna manage all that, cutie? No plow, no tractor, no lumber, no electric company to throw the switch.”

“I can help with that.”

“That makes you damn handy.” Those sharp eyes on Fallon’s face, Mae drummed her index and middle fingers on the arm of the rickety chair. “What’s the charge?”

“A trade. The use of some of the houses, one of the churches—or both if they’re not in use. Some of the land. As a base.”

“A base for what?”

“Soldiers. Training them, housing them, deploying them.”

“Whose soldiers?”

“Mine.”

Mae sat back, making the chair groan at the shifting weight. “You got soldiers?”

“Some, and I’ll have more, because the trouble’s not over. The next phase of it? It’s just beginning. It’ll swallow boys like Pete, and the little guy I saw chasing a chicken that should be in a coop so you don’t have to hunt for the eggs or lose them to foxes. Have you seen the black lightning, ma’am?”

“In the distance.”

“Crows circling, smoke rising?”

“In the distance.”

“They’ll come closer.”

“Well, if you want to give me nightmares …” She trailed off, rose, walked to the end of the porch.

The owl had glided down to perch on a branch over the men in her family. The wolf trotted up to bump flanks with the dogs, and take water from the bowl Ethan set down for him.

“You see that big white owl?”

“Yes, he’s mine. Taibhse. The wolf is Faol Ban.”

“That horse got wings, girl? The white one you’re riding?”

“When he wants them.”

Slowly, Mae came back to sit. “I like conversations.” Still, her voice came out raw before she cleared her throat. “I’ve had more than a few with some who live a few miles down. That’s some sword you got there. A big sword for a young girl. How’d you get it?”

Fallon answered without hesitation. “In the Well of Light when I lifted it from the eternal fire, along with the shield.”

Mae pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Sweet Baby Jesus. I’ve seen things, during the Doom, after, since, seen things my brain said my eyes were making up. But I saw them, and I know the whole world tilted like a table with a broken leg. It’s never going back how it was.”

“No, it’s not going back. But it can, and it will, go forward. It’s harder and slower to go forward if there’s no in charge, and if people only mind their own.”

“Some are happy enough just to stick in place.”

“We buried a man on the way here, one we found hanging from a flagpole. He might’ve wanted to stick in place.”

Mae let out a sigh. “There’s a woman where you’re heading next. Her name’s Troy. First or last, I couldn’t say, but that’s what she goes by. She told me you were coming. She talked about you before, called you The One, and I didn’t pay a lot of mind. That’s her belief, and we oughta live and let. But the last time, not a week ago, I talked with her, she said you’d be coming to talk to me. You’d have a sword at your side. You’d ride a white horse, a winged horse. You’d have a white owl, a white wolf. She said you’d give me something I needed.”

Mae looked down at her arms, let out a half laugh. “Damn rash is already clearing up. Said you’d ask me for something you needed.”

“I’m asking. If you say yes—”

“If I don’t?”

“We move on.”

“Just like that?”

Fallon turned her head so their eyes met. “If we’re meant to be free, if we believe that with all we are, why would I build an army by force to fight for freedom?”

“Plenty tried just that.”

“And here we are,” Fallon finished. “You’ll make the choice. If you say yes, within six months I’ll send some soldiers to you. To help you protect your community, help train any who want to be trained to fight or contribute. I could talk to your people.”

“I’ll talk to them. For some it’ll take a lot of talking. For others, not as much. I have to think on it, and maybe have another conversation with Troy.”

“You trust her.”

“As much as anybody, more than most. I have to think on it,” Mae repeated, “and let you know.”

“All right.” Fallon rose. “We’ll stay the night with the Uncannys, if we’re welcome.”

“I expect you will be.”

“If you haven’t made up your mind by the time we leave tomorrow, I’ll come back when you have, either way.”

“How will you know?”

When Fallon just smiled, Mae shook her head.

The boy, Pete, had a stomach virus, and was well on the mend before they rode out. Out, into the thick woods and to a scatter of cabins where Troy waited.

Her curling mane of white-streaked black hair fell over her shoulders, framing a face the color of coffee beans. She had garden dirt on the knees of thin cotton pants, and a small spade in her hand.

Her eyes, dark as ebony, gleamed when they landed on Fallon’s face. “Welcome. At long last, welcome.”

As Mallick had done when she’d returned from the Well of Light, Troy went down on one knee.

“Please don’t.”

“Indulge me. We’ve waited so long. Welcome, mother, father, brothers.” She rose, walked to Fallon, laid a hand on Laoch’s head. “Welcome and bright blessings on you all.”

Others came out, men, women, children, and as Troy had done, dropped to one knee.

“Do they think she’s a queen?” Ethan whispered to his mother.

“Not a queen.” Troy smiled at him. “But a witch and a warrior, and a promise. Come, please. We’ll have food and wine. We’ll tend to your animals.”

When Fallon dismounted, Troy embraced her. “We’re your army, and we’ll help you raise more.”

It wasn’t always so simple and welcoming as that first day. Some wouldn’t be convinced, some threatened.

Some, like the big, hulking leader of a band of two hundred she met on a sweltering day in June, laughed.

“We’re doing fine here. Any bastards come around looking for trouble, they find it, and they don’t come back.”

“They will. In greater numbers.”

“Save it, sister. We know how to handle ourselves, and nobody around here’s going to fall in line behind some teenage witch. But you’ll pay the fine for trespassing. One of the horses, and the supplies on its back.”

Several dozen weapons lifted, aimed at her family. “That would make you thieves,” Fallon said coolly. “I won’t have thieves in my army.”