Keeping the baby warm – that was Naomi’s top priority. Night and day, the fire had to stay lit. If it burned low, even for an instant, little Macy got so very cold.
She was aware, sometimes, that she was well and truly lost. The needs of the dogs kept her connected to reality by the thinnest of threads. They were in constant physical contact with her as she sat by the ever-roaring fire, never leaving her alone. They took turns slipping out through the dog door Scott had installed, or eating a few bites of food from the bag Naomi had torn open and dumped on the floor. When she slept, they pressed against her. When she cried, howled, screamed her grief, Persephone would press tiny licking kisses along her jaw, and Hades would rest his massive head on her shoulder. Their love was her only tether to a world without her baby in it.
She had washed Macy’s body carefully, then wrapped her in a soft sheet so that only her hair showed. She changed the sheet when it became soiled, turning and tending her daughter’s slowly desiccating corpse. She understood the process Macy’s body was going through, the gradual mummification, and there was nothing to be repelled or disgusted by in it. This was her daughter. Naomi had been caring for her since the day of her birth, and it gave her great comfort to continue caring for her now. Not for a moment did she consider digging a hole in the cold, dark, suffocating earth and putting her baby in it.
And when she couldn’t bear the empty loneliness any longer, she fled, into the ghostlands Verity had warned her about. Backwards and forwards in time she traveled, between dreams and memory. Macy’s wedding day, when a white veil would frost her glorious hair. Macy’s toddler days, when she ran everywhere on chubby legs and gave smacking kisses to complete strangers. On to her teenage years – would she go to the prom? They could sew her formal dress together – wouldn’t that be fun? Back again to those first days, to the power outage and the warm cocoon of family. Naomi visited there again and again.
She drank water when the tissues of her throat stuck together. She used the bathroom when great need drove her to it. In the years that would follow, on the rare occasions she would speak of this time, she would say, “I wasn’t trying to die. But I wasn’t trying to live, either.” And then she would laugh, sadly, and say, “Saved by the most obnoxious of cats. I don’t think Hades ever got over it.”
He strolled in one morning as if he’d just been out carousing, King of All He Surveyed, God of War himself. Hades barked and charged, then spun away with a sharp yelp, his sliced nose already dripping blood on the floor.
Naomi gasped and staggered to her feet. “Ares!”
Her legs shook, then collapsed from under her. She tried again to stand, and was shocked when she couldn’t. When had she gotten so weak? She crawled first to Hades, to press the hem of her shirt to his nose. Then she glared over her shoulder at Ares. “Well, that’s a fine ‘Hello’ you damn cat! We missed you, too!”
Then she started to sob, filled with joy to see him, filled with guilt for feeling joy. Ares yowled and stalked to her side. She leaned down and his purr rumbled into the room as he butted her head repeatedly with his. With her free hand, she stroked him over and over while Hades emitted a constant, grumbling growl. Ares’ body was thin but strong, rising under her hand.
“I can’t believe you found us. How on Earth did you make it so far? How did you know the way?”
Ares prowled to the spill of dog food on the floor, sniffed at it, then loudly voiced his disdain. Persephone gave an excited bark of greeting, her little tail a wagging blur, and bounded to touch noses with the cat. They sniffed each other for a few moments, then Ares yowled again and glared at Naomi. She felt a wobble and a shift as she was invited into his perception.
Miles and miles and miles, and sore paws. Stray dogs, fights, coyotes, and a very close call with a hawk. Naomi. The bond between them, pulling him home. Hungry, always hungry, hungry NOW.
Amazing. Naomi swiped at her tears, then checked Hades’ nose; it was still oozing, but the worst of the bleeding had stopped. She gave him a comforting stroke, then crawled across the floor to the food cupboard, not trusting her legs. “Let’s see what we’ve got for the prodigal son.”
Ares wound and twisted around her as she dragged out a bag of dry cat food, rubbing and purring and radiating approval. She tried to tear the bag open and couldn’t, which told her just how run down she’d become. Just sawing it open with a kitchen knife exhausted her. She filled a bowl for Ares, then crawled back to the cupboard and grabbed a box of granola bars. Seated once again by the fire and Macy, she made herself eat one, washing it down with little sips of water.
Had she eaten since they’d arrived here? She couldn’t remember. She looked down at her clothes. She hadn’t bathed or changed her clothes, of that she was certain. Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t even say how long they’d been here. Weeks? A month? Longer?
So tempting, to curl up by Macy and sleep, to slip back into dream and memory. But Hades was whining softly beside her, not so much from the pain in his nose as from jealousy and hurt feelings, and he needed some reassurance. Persephone was a mess, her golden coat matted and filthy – Naomi was probably going to have to cut a lot of it off. And Ares was intent on his food, crunching enthusiastically, but when he finished, she needed to check him over for any wounds that might need tending…
She heaved a huge breath that hitched and caught, looking around at the animals and recognizing the choice she’d just made without realizing she was standing on the brink of it. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes – she didn’t think the flow would ever stop. She was overwhelmed by the idea of breaking free of her cocoon of grief. Of standing up, of taking steps to survive, of going on without Macy.
But Ares’ return felt like nothing short of a sign. He had survived, had made it back to her, against all odds. As if her thoughts had summoned him, he looked up from his food, then slid to her side and into her lap. Naomi closed her eyes, held him close for comfort and courage, and for the first time since Macy’s death, allowed her heart to open beyond this space, beyond the cabin.
“Piper!” she gasped. There her girl was, vibrating with life and oh! Angry! Right there in her heart. Naomi’s face lifted in a smile of delight and recognition and relief, then just as quickly twisted in pain. No Macy. No baby girl. Her shoulders curved around the hollowness. She made herself breathe steadily for a few minutes, then explored the altered terrain.
It wasn’t that Macy and Scott had left her heart. Rather, their presence was static, still, a love that was memory. They had gone on together, Naomi was sure of it. She had tried so hard to believe they were both still here, just in another form, but she knew it wasn’t true.
Piper, by contrast, felt like a roaring fire in her chest, living, changing, shifting, raging. Her temper had always run hot, but this definitely felt like more than a tantrum. Whatever had enraged her girl, she was grateful for it; the connection between them was alive again. Determination to find her warrior girl surged anew, and she closed her eyes in gratitude. The needs of the living kept grief from killing. She couldn’t follow Macy into death, not while Piper lived.
It took her almost a week to regain enough strength to move easily around the cabin, and another few days beyond that to find the strength and courage to step out the door, to walk down to the lake with the dogs and leave Macy alone for a few minutes.
She stood on the shore as the dogs played in the shallows, scanning the lakeshore for signs of other people. She had thought, the other day, that she’d heard a motor off in the distance, but whether it was a vehicle or a boat, she couldn’t say. She needed to get out and check the lakes one by one, but she was reluctant to use the SUV to do so. So much depended on the nature of the people she might find. The sound of a vehicle was so rare these days, it would be too easy to track and locate.
No, she needed to walk it. It was only a few miles, after all, though some of it was rough terrain. The dogs bounded out of the water, shaking and spraying, and she turned to head back up the hill to the cottage. She had to pause halfway to rest, and she laughed a little at herself.
“Sure. You’re going to hike around the lakes. Better make it up the hill first.”
She went out every day after that, trying to get farther and farther each day. She’d never enjoyed exercise, but she began to find the rhythm of hiking soothing. Her mind emptied and went still, and she could enjoy just being outside, watching the dogs range around her sniffing and exploring, the feel of the sun on her face, the soft tug of the wind in her hair.
They didn’t encounter any humans, but ran into plenty of animal neighbors: mule deer, rabbits, squirrels, the occasional fox and once, a pair of coyotes. Birds were everywhere, too, only a few of which she could name. Scott had kept an identification book by the window in the cabin; he and Macy had spent hours with that book and their binoculars.
There was one bird she was coming to recognize though, a huge raven that seemed to be waiting high in a tree every time she stepped outside. Usually, he would glide from the branch and fly off when she appeared, his croaking calls echoing back to her, but this morning he stayed for a moment. He cocked his head to the side, examining her, and just for an instant, she thought she felt the brush of his awareness: curiosity and a surprising intelligence. He flew off before she could explore the connection, but she would be on the lookout for him tomorrow.
She adjusted the straps of her day pack and her shotgun, then took a deep breath of cool morning air, and looked down at the dogs. Hades was seated by her side, his beautiful, strong head tilted up to her as if she were his sun. When she made eye contact with him, his mouth opened in a doggy grin, and his stump of a tail wiggled with happiness. He adored these walks, and as he became more secure and settled at the cabin, the silly, clownish side of his personality was starting to emerge.
Persephone was dancing around them both, butterfly ears perked and quivering in anticipation as they started down the road running along the west side of Rainbow Lake. The little dog was proving herself to be a ruthless hunter, reinforcing Naomi’s belief that she carried terrier heritage under that soft golden coat. The first time she’d emerged from a burrow with a rabbit dangling from her mouth, her pretty face scuffed and triumphant, Naomi’s instinct had been to take it away from her. She’d stifled that urge; it wasn’t as if she could buy more dog food when her current supply ran out.
She had kept her face averted as the dogs worried and tore at the rabbit that day, trying to figure out how to get through fur to blood and meat. At the time, neither one had been overly hungry, as they’d already been fed; their interest in the rabbit had been more about novelty than food. Since then, Naomi had waited to feed them until after they returned from the day’s hike – if Persephone could hunt up their breakfast, all the better. With practice, they were getting better at consuming what she caught.
Hades was attempting to hunt as well, though his tendency to bulldoze through the forest hindered his efforts. In the clear, without a lot of underbrush to give him away, he had come close, but he’d yet to make a kill. Naomi knew she was going to have to figure something out before too much longer; Hades was a big dog, and needed a lot of fuel. If possible, she needed to conserve the dog food for emergencies, or for the coming winter.
As near as she could figure, it was the first or second week of July. She had never been able to reconstruct the weeks following Macy’s death, and she had stopped trying. What did it matter? Other than keeping track of the seasons so she’d be prepared for the weather, what did the calendar mean anymore?
She had hardly begun to wrap her mind around the changes in the world, and what they would mean. She had a single objective – find Piper – but she knew from her short trip here to the cabin that such a journey wouldn’t be easy. She couldn’t just hop in a vehicle and drive up to UNC on the impossible chance Piper was still hanging out in her dorm room. She had racked her brain for any detail she might have forgotten, any information Piper might have shared about the friend she had mentioned, the one with a home in the mountains, but had come up with nothing.
All she had to go on was the feeling, strong and steady as a compass needle, that Piper was somewhere to the northwest, fairly far away. When Naomi closed her eyes and reached out, she could feel the thread connecting them like a thrumming guitar string. All she knew to do at this point was follow it.
So that was her plan, in its entirety. It was almost as simplistic as her plan to come here, to the cabin, but far less naïve.
First of all, she would wait, until the following spring. Piper could very well be on her way to the cabin, and unlike her mother, she knew where she was going. Besides, Naomi would need that time to prepare, physically and mentally. A great deal of the journey might be on foot, and she needed to be fit. She’d lost weight, an awful lot of it, but it had been the kind of weight loss that debilitated rather than strengthened. She could walk for a couple of hours now, but she had a long way to go.
She also needed to learn how to read a topographical map and use a compass, as well as learn some survival skills. Scott had kept a few area maps here at the cabin, and she had brought his compass with her, but she didn’t know where to begin. Gaining those skills was going to involve a visit to the Woodland Park community, in the hopes that someone there could teach her.
She was fairly certain she was the only person left on Rainbow Lake. She thought there might be some people on Aspen Lake – she’d been down that way a couple of times and had seen a thin trail of smoke once – but she hadn’t found anyone. As far as she knew, she was the only one left in the area, and she couldn’t teach herself the skills she needed. She knew she should make the trip to Woodland Park sooner rather than later, but she hated to leave Macy for more than a couple of hours.
And if she was honest, there was more to it than that. She’d thought about them, about Jack and Layla, Martin and that bizarre Verity, during her walks. She wasn’t sure she could take their pity. And while she’d liked Layla well enough, she wasn’t sure about Jack – if he started in on Macy’s death being God’s will, well, she didn’t know what she would do or say. Just the thought made her heart pound with rage. Martin, she’d understood – he was desperate to find his kids, and she got that. Why he hadn’t left yet she couldn’t figure, but that was his business.
It was Verity that kept her away. What would she say? What wouldn’t she say? A few months ago, Naomi would have dismissed her as a crackpot charlatan. Now, she envied and feared her entrée to a world beyond what most of them could see.
They stopped to rest where the road veered back to the west. From here, they could hike cross-country along the shore of Gem Lake, and on to Columbine Lake to the south, or they could circle around and cross Rainbow Dam before heading home. Naomi opted for the lakeshore; she had to keep increasing her comfort level with stepping off the road. She couldn’t get lost if she stuck to the lakeshore then retraced her steps.
Hades flushed a pair of quail, and, giving a great, athletic leap into the air, caught one. His shocked expression made Naomi laugh out loud; then, the bird fluttered, and his hunting instinct kicked in. A crunch of his powerful jaws and it was over. He dropped the bird on the ground, and Persephone joined him in sniffing it. They hadn’t eaten a bird yet, and neither one seemed to know what to do with the feathers. Naomi watched them poke and prod in confusion, then knelt down between them.
“Here.” It was hard to touch the bird, still pliable and warm with life, but what wasn’t hard these days? She swallowed and persevered, holding the bird with one hand and pulling a handful of feathers free from its breast with the other. She kept at it until she’d cleared a small patch of breast down to the skin, then put the bird back down between the dogs. “Now you try.”
She sent them both a mental image of pulling the feathers out with their teeth, and Persephone was the first to respond. She fell to the task with bloodthirsty enthusiasm, and was rewarded with the first bite of warm, raw quail. Hades whined softly, and looked up at her. Hungry.
“Well, get in there, silly. It’s your bird.” She stroked his head, pictured him gently nudging Persephone aside, and that’s just what he did. She left them to work it out and wandered to the far side of the clearing.
Her communication with the animals didn’t feel strange or surprising anymore. It was a part of her now, like breathing, or her sense of smell, or sight. She reached out and brushed against Ares’ awareness – he came and went as he pleased, and had slipped out early this morning to hunt. She picked up an impression of dozing in the sun back at the cabin, along with a distinct leave me alone sensation that lifted her lips in amusement.
A flash of blue at the base of a pile of boulders caught her eye, and she hurried over to kneel beside a clump of delicate wildflowers. “Colorado Blue Columbine! We don’t have this one yet – Macy will be so tickled…”
She thudded over onto her hip, curling around the slicing pain in her heart. God, how she hated the moments when she forgot. And then remembered. She keened softly, and didn’t fight the tears. Her baby, her sweet girl. Never to finish the pressed wildflower books they’d started together. The list of things Macy would never do stretched on forever, to a grey, empty horizon.
Hades was there in an instant, pressing against her back, and Persephone nuzzled into her lap, daintily licking her muzzle clean of blood. Naomi closed her eyes and absorbed the comfort they offered, rocking Persephone gently in her embrace while Hades leaned against her, shifting with the rhythm of her movements.
She let the tears run their course, then wiped her eyes and gently set Persephone back on the ground. The little dog returned to worry at the bird, but Hades stayed beside her. Before she stood up, she plucked two perfect blooms from the plant, one for her book, and one for Macy’s. There was no reason she couldn’t finish it for her.
When the dogs finished with the quail, they headed back to the cabin where, sure enough, Ares was dozing in a shaft of sunshine. Naomi hurried to Macy’s side, confirming that all was as it should be before she turned her attention to building the fire back up to a blaze. She hadn’t needed to wrap a new sheet around Macy’s body in almost a week, and she knew the time had come to make a decision as to Macy’s final resting place.
She was no more inclined now than she had been before to dig a grave and bury her. But she wanted the matter settled before she left to visit Woodland Park, a task she felt she should complete in the next day or two. She pondered it that afternoon, as she set their Columbines to press and dry between sheets of wax paper in the giant old dictionary, and as she fixed herself a simple dinner of canned soup and fruit. Finally, with the sun sinking towards the horizon, she made her decision.
The north bedroom where Piper usually slept was cool, and the air smelled stale when Naomi opened the door. Macy had always coveted this room for her own, and it felt right, fitting, to be able to finally grant her wish. Naomi didn’t allow herself to think as she made the bed up with fresh sheets and turned down the covers. One of the secrets to surviving, she had learned, was to concentrate completely on the task at hand. Life was now. She couldn’t stand to imagine a lifetime without Macy, but she could tuck in this blanket and take the next breath.
Macy’s body was stiff and light when Naomi lifted her from the pallet in front of the fire. The dogs trailed behind as she carried her baby to her new room and tucked her between the covers. When she had Macy situated, she lit a hurricane lamp, then pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. The dogs settled beside her, curled up on the rag rug that brightened the floor, Persephone snuggled in the curve of Hades’ big body.
“There you go, honey. Tucked in all safe and sound.” Naomi reached out to smooth Macy’s bright hair. “I’ll stay here with you tonight. I’ve got to go to Woodland Park tomorrow, and I wanted you settled before I go.”
She plaited Macy’s hair into a row of soft braids as she talked, telling her about the day, about the Columbines, about Hades’ first successful hunt. When she ran out of things to say, she read aloud for a while. She had read a Harry Potter book to Macy every summer since she turned seven, and they had just started Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. When her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper and her eyes were drooping, she set the book aside, blew out the lamp, and leaned to rest her head beside Macy’s body on the bed.
Just for tonight, she told herself. Tomorrow, she’d sleep in the master bed, but she needed this transition. She had not slept a single night without Macy beside her since the beginning of the plague.
In the dark silence of the cabin, she let her mind drift back to the time before, to the two friends she had known who had lost children. Lara had lost a baby boy shortly after he was born, and Sandy’s daughter, a classmate of Piper’s, had committed suicide the summer before her freshman year of college.
Both times, Naomi had done what people do: She’d made banana bread and lasagna, had shown up with cleaning supplies to run a load of laundry and keep the practical, day-to-day necessities of life going. She had taken Lara for coffee, had gone for walks with Sandy, had listened and held their hands as they cried. At the time, she’d felt like she was being a good friend. Now, she knew she’d done something unforgivable: She had told them that they would be okay.
There was no “okay.” Not ever again. She knew that now. There was no return to the Naomi she used to be. She felt like everything soft and feminine, everything frivolous or indulgent or weak had been burned away, leaving her with the thin, hard core of a woman she barely recognized. Inside, she was mutilated, disfigured by an ugly, gaping wound she knew would never completely heal.
A soft thump on the bed startled her out of her thoughts. Ares settled in against her head and shoulder to snuggle, and after a moment, he started to purr. Naomi found a smile in the darkness, and focused on this moment. The soft blanket under her cheek. The faint whistling snore from Hades. Ares’ contented purr. And she slept.
She woke at dawn the next morning, stiff from slumping over so awkwardly, but otherwise rested. She fed the dogs and put together a day pack with enough food and water to hold them until the next day if necessary. If all went well, she could drive down to Woodland Park and be there in under half an hour, but she no longer assumed things would go as she planned. She loaded the dogs, checked once again that the door to Macy’s room was securely closed, locked the cabin, and they were off.
She kept her attention focused outward as they traveled, feeling for any threat or danger, detecting none. Little had changed, she noted, as she entered the outskirts of the city. Here and there she noticed a garden being cultivated. She didn’t see any people, but she could feel eyes on them, and the curiosity that followed their passage.
In no time at all, she was pulling into the church parking lot. She shut the engine off, listening to it tick as it cooled for a moment. “No thinking,” she reminded herself, and hopped out of the SUV. She let the dogs out of the back seat, quietly commanded them to “heel,” and headed for the front door.
It popped open when she was still 10 feet away, and Verity floated out, her grin broad and triumphant. Martin was right behind her, his expression disgruntled.
“That is the last damn time I bet against you,” he said to Verity, loud enough for Naomi to hear. “You cheat.”
“I do not cheat,” Verity sniffed. “I’m just more conversant with the subtleties of Woo Woo.” She took both of Naomi’s hands in hers by way of greeting. “Martin and I both knew someone would be coming this morning. I said it would be you. Martin said no, it didn’t feel like you, not like he remembered.” Verity squeezed her hands and spoke softly. “But you’re not that person anymore, are you?”
“No.” Naomi had dreaded this moment, but now that it was here, she had just one question. And it wasn’t really a question; she knew the answer. “They’ve moved on, haven’t they? Both of them.”
“Yes. They’re together in the Light.”
Naomi nodded but couldn’t speak. She wouldn’t want it any other way, but the confirmation hurt just the same. She felt alone and adrift; if she wasn’t a wife and mother, she had no idea who she was. Hades leaned against her leg, and she leaned back, anchoring herself. Verity shifted to her other side, looping her arm through Naomi’s and walking them towards the front door.
“Jack and Layla will want to see you. Layla refused to take sides, but I’m sure she thought I was right.” This was said with a quick smirk over her shoulder at Martin. “Jack, of course, would rather just pretend this stuff doesn’t exist – he only talks about it when you corner him. And he’s got so many other things to worry about, it’s easy for him to avoid.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little sweetheart?”
Naomi turned to find Martin gently scratching Persephone’s head between her ears. As she watched, Persephone flopped over on her back, offering her fluffy tummy for rubbing. Martin chuckled and glanced up at Naomi. “Can I pick her up?”
“Sure.” She watched as Martin scooped the little dog into the crook of his arm like a baby, rubbing her chest and tummy with gentle knuckles. Intrigued, Naomi touched her senses to Persephone’s, noting her complete trust as well as the beginnings of adoration for this man she barely knew. Hades, too, weighed in with trust, though he was considerably more reserved on the adoration part.
The inside of the church was humming with activity. There were a lot more people here then when she had visited before, all of them milling around the lobby as if waiting for something. Before she could ask what was going on, Jack strode to the front of the room.
“Thank you all for coming,” he said, looking around, making eye contact, nodding at people as he recognized them. Even before his eyes reached her, Naomi could feel the strength of his persuasive charisma. He might not want to discuss it, but his power had grown considerably since the last time she’d seen him. When his eyes landed on her, she felt that power tenfold.
“Naomi. It’s good to see you again.” His eyes noted the dogs, searched for Macy, then returned to hers. He placed a hand over his heart, and Naomi felt his compassion for her like a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders. He didn’t say a word about her loss, and she appreciated the privacy. Instead he just said, simply, “Welcome.”
Naomi inclined her head in acknowledgement. When his attention returned to the crowd, she glanced sideways at Verity and Martin. “He feels different, too. Stronger.”
Verity just hummed, a noncommittal sound. Martin, however, frowned, and his face stayed set in troubled lines as the three of them listened to Jack give instructions.
“I’ve organized you all into groups – we need to start a methodical search of the city. You’re looking for anything that might prove useful, with food and medical supplies highest on the list.” He paused, and looked around. “You also need to be on the lookout for bodies that had been left exposed to the elements. If possible, these bodies need to be buried, or at the very least, moved inside where they’ll be protected from the weather and further degradation.”
The crowd shifted uneasily at this last directive, and Jack paused again, looking around, his eyes probing. “I know it’s disturbing,” he said in a quiet voice that somehow carried to each person’s ear as if he were speaking to them alone. “So many of us never saw death up close before the plague. But it’s about more than the threat of further disease. These are our friends and neighbors. They deserve better.”
Jack’s persuasive power settled over the crowd like oil on turbulent water. As if they were one organism, they settled, the restlessness dissipating. Naomi didn’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed. Her own intuitive sense was humming a soft alert, sending unease tickling down her spine.
Instructions received, the crowd broke up in purposeful knots and swiftly exited the lobby of the church. Jack spoke to a few people, shook a few hands, then headed towards them. Hades took two steps forward to angle his body in front of Naomi’s. He didn’t growl, but his still watchfulness reinforced Naomi’s unease. Something wasn’t quite right.
Jack didn’t miss Hades’ body language. He stopped a few feet away, eyes on the big dog. “I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”
“He does.” Up close, Naomi could see the lines of strain and tension aging Jack’s face. He looked tired, like a man regularly pushed beyond his resources. She remembered that he too had survived the plague and was probably still recovering. “His breed is naturally reserved and cautious, and very protective. You shouldn’t take it personally.”
“I’ll try not to.” Jack met her gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss. Truly. She was a lovely young lady.”
Naomi’s throat tightened on words of thanks, so she just nodded. Jack turned his body slightly, angling his thumb towards the office area. “Layla will want to see you. Will you stay for a while and talk with us?”
Naomi nodded again, and the whole group followed Jack down the hallway, Verity’s step so light she hardly seemed to touch the ground, Martin bringing up the rear with Persephone still cradled in his arms. When Naomi glanced back at them, he gave her a broken smile and unselfconsciously shrugged a shoulder to wipe at the escaping tears.
“It’s comforting, to hold her, isn’t it?” He smoothed a finger between Persephone’s eyes and around a perky ear, and the little dog’s eyes drifted shut in bliss. “She feels like a baby, warm and solid. I bet it helped a lot, having her, when your little Macy passed.”
Naomi nodded, dropping her hand to Hades’ head. “They kept me alive.”
Martin gazed down at Persephone. “I’m glad you had them. When my son…” He pressed his lips together, swallowed, then looked up at her, his eyes liquid with the same bottomless sorrow she stared into each day. “My son.”
“I’m so sorry.” Naomi stopped walking and touched his forearm. “With my whole heart, I’m sorry. Parents should never outlive their children. We shouldn’t have to figure out how to keep breathing without our babies.” On impulse, she sent his heart a pulse of comfort, just like she did with the animals. Martin started, then laughed a little.
“Wow. That’s pretty cool.”
Naomi dropped her hand, and her shoulders rose self-consciously. “It’s just something I do with the animals. I wasn’t sure people could feel it. I’m sorry if I…intruded, or over-stepped.”
“It’s okay. We’re all trying to figure out what the new boundaries are. It’s a strange new world.”
“Very.”
They started walking again. Jack and Verity were waiting for them in a doorway at the end of the hallway, he frowning, she beaming. Both expressions gave Naomi pause, but she didn’t have time to puzzle either out before they were stepping into the room. Layla rose from where she’d been seated in a leather wing chair. She looked as wrung-out as Jack.
“Naomi, I’m so happy to see you again.” Like Verity, Layla stepped forward to take both her hands. “I felt it when your Macy crossed.” She squeezed Naomi’s hands. “I hope you’re not offended, but I cast for you, a spell to strengthen and comfort you in your sorrow, and of remembrance for your daughter. There’s nothing evil in what I do,” she added, her eyes sliding briefly to Jack. Naomi sensed the divide between them on this, as well as Layla’s steady defense of her position. “No Satan, no devil-worship. It’s just a different way of approaching the Divine, to ask for blessings on your behalf.”
“It’s fine with me.” Naomi squeezed back, feeling her throat tighten yet again. She forced words out past the knot. “Thank you. For caring. And most of all, for remembering her.”
They settled around the room, and Naomi spoke. “Is Rowan here? I wanted to thank her. For trying to help.”
Layla answered. “She’s out on her rounds. She never stops.” She looked down. “We’re starting to lose more people. Some of them to disease – not plague, but dysentery. Some of them to suicide. Rowan feels every death, but the suicides hurt her the worst. She knows when people are going to make the attempt, but nothing any of us has tried so far has prevented someone from following through.”
“Now that the worst of the plague is over, people are facing what the world has become,” Jack added. “Some of them don’t want to go on. They feel they have nothing left to live for, and the new world just seems too hard.”
Naomi swallowed and glanced at Martin. “I understand that,” she said softly. “It hurts to live. Dying looks so peaceful and painless.” She cleared her throat and spoke with more strength. “But I can’t leave my older daughter. Piper. I need to find her. I know she’s still alive – I can feel her. She’s in trouble, and she’s angry, but I know for certain she’s alive.”
“You don’t need to convince us,” Martin said with a wry smile. “Strange new world, remember?”
Naomi smiled back, then swept her gaze around the group. “Piper may be on her way to the cabin – that was our plan - so I need to wait before I go looking for her. At least until next spring. In the meantime, I need to prepare.” She outlined what she needed; when she finished, Layla nodded.
“We’ll help you gather the resources you need.” She looked at Martin. “You have some survival skills, don’t you?”
“I would need to brush up, but yes, I do.” To Naomi. “I’m retired military. Marine. Where will you start looking?”
“I’m not sure. Logically, I should go to UNC first – that’s the last place I know for sure she was. She might have left a message for me there. She told her dad about a friend who had a place to go in the mountains, but nothing was ever confirmed and I don’t have any information about this friend at all.” She pressed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes, feeling stupid, but knowing that she would be believed. “I feel her in that direction.” She pointed to the northwest. “Fairly far away, maybe a few hundred miles – I’m terrible with estimating distances. But I can find her. I know it.”
Martin leaned forward, radiating excitement and purpose. “My older kids are in Limon, with my ex-wife. That’s only 100 miles or so from Greeley, as the crow flies.” He smiled. “I’m very good at estimating distances. We could team up. Look for them together.” He set Persephone on the ground, then snagged a piece of paper and a pen off the desk, bending to draw a quick sketch. “Okay, here’s Limon and here’s Greeley. You definitely want to avoid Denver, so-”
“Hold on.” Jack’s voice was weary, with an edgy frustration underneath. “Martin, we’ve talked about this. About the importance of community, and each person doing their part. You’re the only person we have with military experience, and one of the only people who knows how to operate a firearm. We need you.”
“My kids need me.” But Martin sat back down, abandoning his map.
“Martin, you know how sorry I am to say this, but the likelihood that they’re still alive is so slim…” Jack’s voice trailed into silence for a moment as Martin absorbed the words Naomi was certain he’d heard before. Jack went on. “Is it worth abandoning this community that needs you, this new family, on such a remote chance?”
Martin didn’t reply, but slumped back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, expression stormy. If not for the liberal silver in his dark hair, he would have looked for all the world like a sullen teen. Naomi’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two men, and she frowned in confusion.
Martin was older, and radiated a natural authority. Somehow, though, Jack had tapped into something that reversed their logical roles. Again, Naomi’s intuition pinged a warning. She folded her lips tightly against the urge to speak up on Martin’s behalf, even though a partner on her search would increase her chances of success exponentially. Martin was a big boy. It wasn’t her place to interfere.
Verity sidled up to perch beside her. “Fascinating, isn’t it?” Naomi glanced at her, and Verity nodded encouragingly. “Well, go on, then. Jump in there. I’ve been wondering how this would play out.”
Her place be damned. Instinct gave Naomi the words. She leaned forward, ducking her head until she met Martin’s troubled gaze. “He’s not your father, you know.” Martin’s eyes narrowed angrily, but she plunged on. “You can tell when people are lying, right? You can hear truth. And what he’s saying is true, logically speaking, so you listen.” She leaned forward. “But what’s your truth? What are your instincts telling you to do?”
“Naomi.” Jack’s voice was gentle, but not for a moment did she miss the anger simmering under the softness. “With respect, this isn’t your business. You’re not part of this community yet, and though we’d love to have you join us, I would ask that you stay out of this discussion. Martin and I have talked this over, at length, and we made an agreement.”
Naomi straightened her spine and raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t just survived Piper’s turbulent teens; she’d learned a thing or two. Her daughter’s ability to twist words and use emotions to manipulate had been second to none. Until she’d witnessed Jack in motion, that is.
“I will consider being a permanent part of this community,” she said, holding Jack’s gaze, “When I have found my daughter and brought her safely home. I am asking for some help, it’s true, to learn the skills I’ll need in order to do that. In exchange, I can share what surplus supplies I have. And I can teach people how to shoot and to properly care for their firearms. I’m not a hunter, so I can’t teach those skills, but I can help you arm more of your people.”
She paused, then went on with the same honesty and authority she had finally learned to use with Piper. “But I won’t be manipulated into staying, Jack. You can’t use guilt or obligation to get me to stay, like you have with Martin. This is something I have to do. You don’t have to agree with it, but you must respect my decision.”
She stopped talking, and the silence in the room was absolute. Beside her, she could feel the slowly growing boil of Martin’s anger as her words sank into the place in him that knew truth. He stood abruptly, glaring at Jack, then shifted his fierce gaze to her.
“I can teach you some of what you need to know. I know a rancher outside of town that can teach you more. When you’re ready to start, let Layla know and she’ll get in touch with me.”
Without another glance at anyone, he strode out of the room, leaving strained silence in his wake. Naomi felt a spurt of social discomfort, and almost laughed aloud at herself. Such feelings were a thing of the past, and a waste of time. She’d set this in motion, and she couldn’t be sorry. She sensed that Jack was essentially a good man, but he didn’t seem to be using the best judgment when it came to the new power he possessed.
Layla must have been thinking the same thing. She leaned forward, speaking in a voice that both comforted and confronted. “Jack, Naomi is right. We can’t coerce people into doing what we want. We can only invite them, ask them, then let them make their own choices.”
“Oh, really? Is that what ‘we’ should do? Say what you mean, Layla – I need to stop manipulating people, isn’t that right?” Jack glared around the room, at Verity, then at Naomi, then returned his gaze to Layla. Even though it wasn’t directed at her, Naomi felt the force of his frustration and fear like a punch. Layla gasped and put a hand over her heart, and Jack sneered. “Whoops, sorry, didn’t warn you in time to get your shields up, did I? My bad. Sometimes I forget that we live in the Land of Oz now, and it would appear I’ve been elected Wizard, whether I want to be or not.”
“Jack, you don’t need to-”
“Stop!” Jack shot to his feet. “Stop telling me what I do or don’t need to do! I didn’t ask for this, I never asked to lead these people. You and Rowan decided that for me, and now you think you can tell me how to go about it?”
He whirled on Naomi. “Do you know how many of us are left? Eighty-seven. Eighty-seven people, not counting you, and we need every single one. We need people who can work together, not just to produce food and shelter to keep us all alive, but for protection.” He rubbed his temples, then scrubbed a hand roughly across his forehead. “Something is coming. Something bad. I…dream about it.”
He returned his glare to Layla. “So do you. I hear you in the night, when you wake up terrified and cry out. Your shields are down and I can feel what you feel – you know what’s headed our way as well as I do. So don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. Don’t tell me I can’t manipulate people, to make them do what we need them to. Do you hear me, Layla? What we need them to do. This isn’t about what I want. It’s about keeping this community safe.”
Their gazes were locked; Jack’s chest was heaving, and Layla’s eyes glittered with tears. Verity leaned over to stage-whisper to Naomi.
“Gosh, if this was a movie he’d kiss her right now, don’t you think?” Then, to Jack: “If you’re not going to kiss her, you ought to storm out dramatically. After a speech like that, it’s just called for.”
Jack heaved a breath, and when he released it, he seemed smaller. Deflated. He shook his head wearily at Verity, too exhausted to even try to hide his hurt. “Thanks, Verity. Mockery was the only thing missing from this debacle, and you’ve supplied it.” He headed for the door, paused, then spoke over his shoulder to Naomi. “I’m sorry for all this. We’ll help you with whatever you need, and accept your help gratefully. Please excuse me.”
Naomi just nodded. In the wake of his departure, Layla turned to gaze at Verity. “Why would you say those things?” she asked softly, her voice tender and exasperated. “I know you intended no harm – I could feel that. And yet you managed to cut him to the bone. Why?”
Verity shrugged; she appeared contrite for the moment, but the imp lurked in her eyes, ready to re-take control of her features. “I’ll apologize,” she said in a subdued tone. “I just thought the moment called for the distance and perspective that levity provides.”
“Distance and perspective.” Layla shook her head. “I wish I could disagree, but I think that’s just what he needs. That, and maybe a solid whack upside the head.” She stood, and moved to rest a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “I need to see if I can get him to go home and rest – he’s exhausted. Will you stay until I come back?”
“I will.” Naomi rested her hand over Layla’s and sent her a pulse of comfort, just as she had with Martin. “Please pass that on to him, would you?”
Layla’s smile was both delighted and startlingly beautiful. “How lovely! I’ll try, though he’s a lot more comfortable doling out comfort than receiving it.”
She left then, and Naomi turned to Verity. They gazed at each other in silence for long moments. Then Naomi narrowed her eyes.
“You planned this,” she accused. “You wanted to talk to me alone, so you engineered this whole thing.”
Verity’s laughter chimed softly. “Boy, there is no fooling those mom instincts of yours. ‘Planned’ isn’t really the right word. More like I nudged forces that were already in motion, and happily, everything turned out just as I hoped.”
“Why? What is it you couldn’t say in front of the others?” Naomi’s heart started to pound and her voice dropped to a hoarse, excited whisper. “Do you have a message for me? From Scott or Macy?”
“Naomi.” Verity gathered both her hands, then brought them to her lips, kissing first one then the other. From her, the gesture didn’t even seem strange. “You were right the first time. They moved on together to join the One.”
Disappointment slowed Naomi’s speeding heart. She dropped her head for a moment, fighting not to cry. She was so very, very weary of crying. “Then what is it?”
“Your Macy didn’t just see the dead. She saw possibilities, what might be, what could be, if conditions were right. That’s what she wanted to talk to me about, when you were here before. She didn’t have time to grow into her gift, to detach from the Earthly plane and learn what we all must learn to survive with such knowledge: That no path is written. That no future is better or worse than another. There is simply the path, which is created as people choose it.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Naomi said slowly. “Are you telling me that Macy was trying to use her gift to control the future?”
“In a word, yes. She saw an outcome she desperately wanted for you, and for her sister. She wanted me to help you, to ensure that outcome.”
Naomi gazed at Verity for a long moment, then shook her head. Once again, her question was not a question. “You’re not going to do that, are you.”
Verity stood, and floated to the window. She gazed out at the bright sunshine, and was silent for so long, Naomi thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she turned back. Her face was aglow with a light that could only be called holy, her eyes faceted with knowledge, wisdom, sorrow, and joy.
“We are travelers together, in the time between what no longer is and what has not yet come to be. This is a time of chaos – change is almost never neat and tidy – and mankind is transforming. That transformation will occur, no matter what path you choose.” She paused, as if considering, then nodded. “I will tell you this: I saw Macy’s path for you, and for Piper. It’s a Hero’s Path. If you choose it, your names will be remembered.”
“I don’t care about that. A Hero’s Path?” Naomi shook her head, bewildered. “I don’t know what you and Macy saw, but all I want is to find my daughter, to bring her home and keep her safe. You can keep your chaos and transformation – I don’t want any part of it.”
Verity’s eyes lit with glee. “Ah, but that’s not yours to decide. ‘All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.’” She chortled – actually chortled. “Tolkien, via Gandalf. Gosh, I have always wanted to use that quote – never thought I’d get the chance.”
She sobered once more. “You can deny the task, Naomi, but not the call. I can mentor you as you travel across this space, but I can’t decide for you. Always, always, the choice is yours.”
Naomi felt like her fingertips were just starting to brush the edges of Verity’s meaning. “What am I choosing between?”
Verity didn’t hesitate. “Fear and love.”
“Fear and love,” Naomi repeated softly, and something inside her resonated. She could feel those opposing forces in her heart and mind, the push-and-pull of them. Fear would keep her at the cabin, reading to Macy’s corpse and completing a wildflower book for a little girl who was as vibrant and dead as the blossoms preserved in its pages.
Fear was safety and security. It was prudence, caution, suspicion, defense. And love was…everything else. The whole wide world.
She looked up at Verity, speaking softly, shyly. “So, fear is limitation. It’s the plan you make when you take into account your weaknesses.” Verity nodded eagerly, and Naomi continued, groping towards understanding. “And love is a free-fall off a cliff. With only your courage for a parachute.”
“Yes!” Verity shrieked the word, making Naomi jump. She fist-pumped and strutted around the room in a hip-wiggling victory dance. Naomi squinted, then knuckled her eyes like a tired five-year-old and squinted again. Surrounding Verity, like something seen from the corner of one’s eye, was she seeing…angels? And were they…dancing?
Verity pirouetted to seize Naomi’s hands. Her eyes were incandescent. “What an adventure!” She sighed happily. “Welcome to the Path.”