"Yes, you are definitely Geronimo rather than Washakie. Most Amazons are, but what makes you think the enemy is only outside the Amazons? What makes you think the sons are the sole threat? As I said, we've watched you, we know about you-things you don't even know about yourselves."
"You're saying there are Amazons who want to damage the rest of us? Why?"
"Not damage. Change."
"You want us to change."
"True, but we aren't the only ones. And we don't even want you to change that much. We just want the tribe to acknowledge us, to work with us-to realize they don't need to kill and maim their own children to stay safe."
A pain began to pound inside my head, right behind my eyes. What he was saying didn't make sense, or maybe it made too much sense.
I stood. I was done with the conversation. I was ready to go home where things made sense. I'd call the council from there and tell them everything. See what was true.
And I wasn't taking the son with me.
He must have sensed it. He didn't follow me. When I reached the Jeep, I looked back. He'd pulled a phone from somewhere and was talking into it. He had a cell. Of course he did. And another son would be here soon, picking him up and most likely dropping him off where he could spy on me again.
I should have stayed, or left and sneaked back, but I didn't. I got in my vehicle and left.
I knew it wouldn't be the last I'd see of Jack, knew it wouldn't be the last chance to kill him or for him to kill me.
I pulled into the safe camp around one. I knew immediately something was wrong-or different, at least.
Two of the birders were sitting in lawn chairs in the front yard. Squatting beside them was Areto. As I approached, I noticed they were holding a small box, the same type of electronic device the women in the woods had used, and they were showing it to Areto.
"You just enter the address like this." One of the birders, a middle-aged blonde dressed in denim shorts, white tennis shoes, and a peach tank top punched something into the box. "It's really handy when there is road construction. I used it all the way from Nashville."
I realized then the woman had a Southern accent. As I walked toward them, she looked up and smiled.
I didn't return the gesture.
"What's happening?" I directed the question to Areto, who stood and took a step away from the two humans, but the woman sitting in the second chair, a brunette maybe ten years older than the blonde, answered.
"We got lost. Thea went inside to get the keys to drive us back to our car."
Again I looked at Areto. "They couldn't walk?"
"That wouldn't be very polite, now would it?" Thea stood on the porch, a key chain dangling from one finger. She hadn't changed in the few hours since I'd seen her last night, but knowing there was a possibility she had hidden the council's plans for the baby from me, I looked at her differently.
"Why would we need to be polite?" Manners were for humans. We treated each other with respect-that was real, manners weren't. Besides, assuming someone needed your help was an insult. I glanced at the two women. They both seemed able-bodied. There was no reason they couldn't go the way they'd come.
I said as much to Thea.
The women looked at each other, their shock at my outspoken behavior clear.
Thea gestured for me to step to the side, out of the two humans' hearing. Tired, confused, and not at all in the mood for a discussion, I considered ignoring her request but grudgingly moved the few feet she'd indicated.
"They wandered up a few minutes ago. They're connected to the one Bern found." Her voice low, Thea kept her focus on the pair still chatting mindlessly from the lawn chairs. "They said they went on a walk, looking for some bird-"
"An owl," I interrupted, wondering when she was going to get to the part that explained why we had rolled out the welcome mat.
"An owl," she repeated. "Apparently this owl was important to the dead woman. They wanted to get pictures of him, prove he nested here in honor of her."
"So they came on our property and you welcomed them." I didn't put any judgment into the words. I thought they spoke for themselves. My last order had been to run the birders off, not pull out the lawn furniture and brew some ice tea.
"They got lost and they wound up here." Her eyes flared. "Their friend was found dead. Apparently, the police believe the accident scenario, for now. But if we act unfriendly, that could change."
"They bought the accident?" This was, at least, good news. "How do you know?"
Thea slanted a look toward the two women.
I let air hiss from between my lips. Fine. Maybe chatting with them a bit had its uses, but that use was over. I said as much to Thea.
She held up a ring of keys in response.
I started to object. Not being antagonistic didn't mean we had to play chauffeur either, but I thought better of it. If Thea drove them, we'd know they were gone. I did, however, remind her of our original plan, making it clear I didn't want the birders to think they could drop by for coffee and cake. . or traipse around our woods, period.
The priestess didn't reply, but as she walked off to get the birders packed up and off, I felt she'd gotten the message. I waited, thinking she'd hand off the keys to Areto or call for someone else, but she didn't. Instead she waved the women toward a compact that belonged to Sare and took off.
Surprised by her choice, I frowned, but quickly decided it fit with my needs better anyway. As my potential lieutenant, I needed to talk to Areto. Thea's news that the police had found the body and considered the death accidental was reassuring, but I still wanted to hear more about what had happened. Lao's comments earlier had made me wonder a few things. I hoped talking to Areto would either reveal more or alleviate my concerns.
My call to the high council would have to wait.
I gestured to the warrior. She followed me into the kitchen. It was empty and would stay that way for a while. The farmer's market stayed open until two, then the hearth-keepers would have to clean up and drive back here. Dinner would be late or self-serve, which meant cold something grabbed from the refrigerator. But even that was a ways off for most of the tribe.
While Areto pulled out a chair, I went to rummage in the refrigerator for a late lunch for myself. I found cold chicken and potatoes. After dumping them onto a plate, I carried it back to the table.
She watched me as I picked up a leg and bit into it. "How was your trip?"
It was a strangely polite and somewhat distant question. I chewed the meat, then answered, "Fine."
She glanced to the side.
The suspicions that Lao's comments had created sprang to life. I took another bite of chicken, then asked, "What happened this morning?"
She sat with her back straight and her eyes facing forward, like a robot. Her posture made me realize I'd been wrong before. The length and color of her hair aside, she was nothing like Mel. There was always fire in my friend; frequently it was misdirected or not directed at all, but it was always there.
"We did as you said. We took the birder's body to the remains of the cabin. Lao came too. She had us prop the body against an old tractor, made it look like the woman had been messing with it. Then she turned on the engine and worked the cord on her binoculars so it got caught in the belt. The cord pulled tight. We left with it still running."
I waited for her to say something else, some opinion on moving the body, or my leaving and taking Bern, or on the birders I'd found in the front yard. . anything, but she gave me nothing. She just waited.
Suddenly her lack of opinion, or at least inclination to keep it to herself, bothered me. Just days earlier I would have said that is what I wanted in a lieutenant, but now I wasn't sure.
I set the chicken leg down on my plate. "Areto, what did you think about it?"
She blinked. "About what?"