“Aren’t there a number of other people in the Order?” asked Talen. “Won’t we need them to attempt a rescue?”
“Son,” said the Creek Widow, “your uncle’s on a ship headed for Mokad, your da’s who knows where in the custody of Lord Shim and the Fir-Noy, we’ve got some creature from the tales taking us down one by one. I don’t know where your brother is. We weren’t many to begin with. You want others?” She spread her arms wide. “I’m afraid you’re looking at them.”
“But—”
“If anybody has survived, we will find them at the refuge. I was waiting for the final word. I cannot wait anymore. We must leave immediately.”
Talen saddled the Tailor and brought him around the front of the house, worrying the whole time that someone was spying on them. The Tailor was named after a man the Creek Widow had loved once. Talen had never gotten the full story and didn’t know if the man died or simply jilted her.
He helped Legs up and then held the horse as the Creek Widow filled the saddlebags with a few necessities and what she said were her three most prized possessions—a fat codex of lore she’d been hiding in a stone box under the floor, two yards of bright yellow silk she had not yet been able to bring herself to wear and probably never would, and an ancient cooking pot her great-grandmother had given her.
When she finished tying everything off, the Creek Widow walked to the well, drew a bucket of water, then carried it to the south side of her home where her almond tree starts stood in a single straight line of pots on a narrow table. She watered them, gently brushed each with her hand, then stood back and addressed the group. “I cannot promise I’ll return, lovelies. And there’s no time to put you where you belong.” She grunted over that fact and shook her head.
“No, I just can’t,” she said. She turned to Talen. “Bring me a spade.”
“But—”
“Cha!” she said.
Talen fetched a spade from the barn and brought it to her. “I thought we had to leave immediately.”
“Hush,” she said. “Gather an armful and follow me. Those pots will dry out in a day.”
They carried the nine starts to the garden and hastily planted them between two rows of cabbage.
“I know you’ll be a bit crowded,” she said to them. “But it will have to do.” Then she stood and said good-bye to her apple trees and the two walnuts she prized the most. She walked to the chicken coop, opened the door, and bid her birds farewell. Then she walked to Warrior lying on the porch.
“My lovely old man,” she said, giving him an affectionate rub about the neck. “Keep a good watch on the ladies. I’m counting on you.”
A branch cracked in the woods that started just on the other side of the road running by the house. All three of them froze. The crack was followed by the sound of someone pushing through brush.
The Creek Widow pointed at the barn. “Hide,” she whispered.
Talen took Legs by the hand and walked as quickly as he dared to the barn door. It squeaked, even though he only opened it wide enough for the two of them to slip inside.
There was more cracking and sweeping of limbs, then a “Hoy. Anyone?”
“Sugar!” Legs called. He let go of Talen’s grip and darted out of the barn, almost running toward the sound, one hand high, one low in front of him. “Sugar!”
“Hush,” said the Creek Widow.
Sugar ran to her brother and wrapped him in a hug. “Thank the Creators,” she said.
“Thank Talen,” said Legs.
Sugar looked over at him.
“Oh, we’ve become bosom buddies,” said Talen.
“Have you been followed?” asked the Creek Widow.
“No,” said Sugar. “Well, I don’t know.”
“There was no way you were coming back from chasing that monster,” said Talen.
“Well,” she whispered. “I guess you underestimated me.”
“Quickly,” said the Creek Widow, “give me the facts.”
Sugar related her tale of following River. She ended by saying, “I trailed the monster to its lair. But I did not go far. It returned. I was close enough to almost reach out and touch it. It chased me for a time, but I haven’t seen sign of it since this afternoon.”
“You’re a brave one,” said the Creek Widow. She looked at Talen. “That’s something to mark.”
He couldn’t tell if that meant Sugar was to be lauded, or that he was cowardly in comparison and should learn from