Charlie hugged Ben’s leg, his face pressing again his hip. Ben turned to watch the men’s progress up the Drop. They were close now, just on the other side of the lake.
“We can’t let them see you,” Ben said. He knelt in the snow to be as close to Charlie as he could. He tried to memorize the shape of the boy in his arms. So many things to say to him, but there was only time for two. “Take care of them. Now, run.”
Charlie and Caroline were both crying when they turned away from Ben.
He watched as they disappeared between the trees, until he could see no trace of them through the dark wood. As Ben pushed himself up from the ground, his hand brushed against a wedge of rock that sat just under the snow’s surface. It was better than nothing. He slid it into the deep pocket of his coat, then fixed his eyes again on the men who hunted him.
“These men will hurt you,” he told JoJo. The big man stood behind him, blending with the trees and shadows. “You should go, too.”
JoJo shook his head. “They hurt my friends,” the big man said.
Ben waited a few minutes, until the men reached the edge of the lake; then he stepped out onto the shore and waved. He recognized the chief’s silhouette in the lead. He watched as the chief hesitated a moment, then sped the group’s progress toward him. Ben began to walk across the frozen lake. As he stepped onto the ice, he felt a strange lightness come over him. It was a vertiginous feeling to realize that all your choices have been made. The wind had weakened, and the night was quiet except for the rattling from the trees and the crunch of his footfalls. Beside him, JoJo was as silent as a ghost.
“Hey, guys,” Ben said, raising his voice into a shout. He wondered if they’d even give him a chance to explain the mountain man beside him. “Did you just come from the house? Are Caroline and Charlie back yet? I can’t find them.”
Now that they were so close, Ben could see that Deputy Simms and Walter Harp were with the chief. Ben had seen the chief only a few hours ago, but that time had transformed him. The bones of his face were sharp in the moonlight. His rangy body was poised for violence. Ben had prepared himself for hostility; still, he shivered under the man’s look.
The chief seemed to contemplate Ben’s question, then he carefully picked his way along the ice to JoJo. He moved with an otherworldly economy. He appeared to sniff the air, never breaking eye contact with the big man. JoJo stood utterly still as the chief looked him over, and Ben could not read the lawman’s expression. Then the chief smiled, pulled his gun out of its holster, and shot JoJo. The sound was deafening.
Ben threw himself down and slid a few feet on the ice. When he looked up, the chief still had his gun trained on JoJo. Ben had not seen the big man go down, but he’d felt him fall.
“Shoulda done that thirty years ago,” the chief said. His voice was low and rough and sounded as if it came from deep inside his chest.
“And woulda, too, if he hadn’t hid in the woods like a scared girl,” Simms said. He spat at JoJo’s still form, then looked nervously at the chief.
“Talked with Lisbeth, Ben,” the chief said. He did not point the gun at him, but he did not holster it, either. “She said she tried again to explain matters to you but had no more luck than before. Where’s Charlie?”
“I don’t know where he is,” Ben said. “I’m looking for him, too.”
“Gotta be either brave or stupid to lie to a man with a gun,” Simms said. Ben put his hands above his head but did not stand up from the ice.
“You got nowhere to go, Ben. It’s a hard thing that has to be done, but he wouldn’t ask it of us if we couldn’t do it,” the chief said. “We cannot question his plan. Your people, Swann and Lowell alike, knew that as gospel. How can you say any different?”
“Listen, we can still just leave this place. No harm done,” Ben said. He thought of his family trying to make their way through the forest. He would give them all the time he could.
“Our village is dying, Ben. You’ve seen it yourself. The herds are sick, the banks are closing in, the people want to leave, they want to undo everything that we—that your family—have given so much to preserve. We would not be in such a bad spot if this one hadn’t gotten in the way last time.” He gestured to JoJo’s prone form. “We have existed by the grace of God since that terrible winter, but we have been on borrowed time for too long. Charlie is God-sent for us to prove ourselves worthy one more time.”
“The only reason we’re here is because you told us that the Crofts was for sale once you found out my grandmother was a Lowell.”
“And your great-grandmother a Swann. God be praised. But it was not chance, Ben. Nothing in this darkening world is chance. You’re one of us. Do you accept that?”
Ben allowed a moment to pass, then nodded. “I can accept it. But it’s the blood that matters, right? So take mine.”
The chief squinted at him.
“You need blood,” Ben said. “Swann blood. And I have more of it than Charlie does, so take it. It’s yours.” The last thing he had to give. “Just leave my family alone.”
“That’s not how it works, Ben,” the chief said. “Losing this life is no sacrifice. Don’t you see that the dead are free? They do not mourn; they do not suffer. We here know well that it’s a harder thing to live than to die. I still hope you get to learn that.”
Ben exhaled into the cold air and rolled onto his back. He’d tried. It was almost over now. He looked up at the stars. He hoped he’d bought Charlie enough time. The price had been high, but it had been paid gladly. “You have to know I won’t help you hurt him.”
“Think on it, Ben. Think of Bub, if not yourself. We can’t let the Swanns go now that they’ve finally returned. God would not forgive that. The baby boy is young enough that any one of us could raise him as our own. But blood matters, Ben. And a boy should be with his own father.”