Meridian Read online

  "We don't have time."

  I dragged my feet even as I saw the flames dance along the porch beneath us. A shattering crash and a violent cheer intensified the stench of fire. "I need her basket. I'm a quilter now too. And the journal." It was the most tangible connection I had to Fenestras, to the only Fenestra I truly knew.

  "Safe. I have the basket already. The journal's in your pack."

  "What?"

  "Auntie. She knew, I listened. Let's go." Tens shook me to get my attention.

  I slung my arms through the straps of my backpack and hitched it up as Tens ran his hands beneath a stack of quilts that were piled on the shelves of the armoire in the far corner. "What are you doing?"

  "There's a latch here somewhere."

  I started shoving quilts aside and off the shelves. The roar of the fire was hungry and the people outside sang hymns at the top of their lungs. Someone shouted, "And the witches shall be burned out of the promised land!"

  "Here we go." Four empty spools of thread decorated the top of the shelves like gingerbread detailing, evenly spaced. "Shit, what's the code? She told me. Months ago. What the hell was it?"

  "There's a code?"

  He turned to me. "What did you say earlier? The 'I love you,' what was it?"

  "One-four-three."

  "That's it." Tens pressed the first spool into the top of the unit until it disappeared completely. Then he pressed the fourth and the third and finally we heard a pop. A musty smell blew into the room.

  "Stairs?"

  Tens turned on his flashlight and took my hand. "Trust me."

  I nodded. Downstairs, another window shattered and footsteps stampeded on the first floor.

  Tens closed the unit behind us. When we heard a click, we knew it had locked. Would they think to search for a secret passageway?

  We went down the stairs as quickly as we could, descending in a tight spiral of iron and wood. The noises became louder and smoke began seeping through cracks in the chute. It required all my fortitude not to cough, but my eyes watered.

  A voice shouted by my shoulder, "Look in the storm cellar! They're here somewhere. Find them."

  I turned a panicked face to Tens. He gently placed a finger along my lips. Trust. Trust Trust. With each heartbeat I felt the word.

  We slowed down, praying we wouldn't make a noise. We went past the third and second floors, past the first and into the basement. I didn't know where we were or where in the world we would come out. I gripped Tens's hand and he turned to me. "Almost there."

  I pressed against Tens's back, mimicking his movements. Down a long tunnel.

  "We're here. It's safe to talk now, they can't hear us."

  I glanced around. "Where are we?"

  "The old icebox. The stream flows past just ahead."

  "The stream? That's like a football field away from the house."

  "Right."

  "How?"

  "There's time later to explain, but we have to keep moving. We aren't safe yet."

  We heard splashing in the water ahead Tens turned off his light and handed it to me. He bent down and drew a gun from a holster on his ankle.

  The footsteps got closer, as did the panting. And finally, a low growl that was Custos's hello. I flicked on the light and knelt down. She licked my face.

  I turned to Tens as he holstered his gun. "Is that a gun?"

  "Yep."

  "Would you have ..." I broke off, unable to say it out loud.

  "Of course." He regarded me the way every warrior has looked at the smaller and the helpless they've sworn to protect. I didn't appreciate his expression. I wasn't helpless and I wasn’t in need of rescuing.

  I opened my mouth, but he beat me to it. "I know how to shoot. I've hunted for years. A gun is more efficient than a bow and arrow, especially when you're hungry. Would I pull the trigger to protect you? Absolutely. Would I let you pull the trigger to protect me? Hell, yes. But do you know how to shoot? Have you ever held a gun?"

  "No."

  "So, if this is something I know how to do and you don't, there isn't anything sexist in that—it's smart."

  I nodded. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. "When this is over, you'll teach me, right?"

  "Sure. I'll even let you skin and gut dinner." He smiled.

  "Thanks." My stomach rolled at the thought.

  Custos fell into step with us, occasionally running ahead, then waiting. Her ears never stopped moving and her nose tilted up to catch the scents floating in the wind. We came to the end of the tunnel and Tens pushed against a bundle of branches until it moved far enough for us to squeeze through.

  "How did Custos fit through there?" I asked as we pushed the camouflage back into place. We were under the huge curving stone bridge I'd crossed that first day.

  "No idea. Come on." Tens grabbed my bag and my hand. "Quiet." He moved out from under the bridge, lit with the frantic flames and echoing with fanatical cries in a language I didn't understand.

  People clad in long white robes were running about in the distance. I realized one stood apart and directed the others. Where the light from the fire should have reflected off his robes and face, it disappeared into blackness. The pieces clicked and I knew this wasn't about witches, but about Aternocti versus Fenestra. Perimo had positioned himself in a community that was desperate for answers, and instead of hope he'd fed them a diet of blame.

  The bridge afforded us a bit of shelter, but the fire's heat was tangible even from there. We listened to the angry roll of thunder as the fire engulfed the house one board and one stone at a time. Hail and snow battled with warm wind, as if the earth was engaged in a larger conflict.

  I let the cold of the rock sink through my coat and into my back, keeping me grounded and in the now. It seemed like months ago I'd crawled and stumbled my way across this structure, unsure of what awaited me at the house. Now, my heart broke and grief swamped me—the house, the love, the stories. Auntie—all reduced to a pile of ash.

  Thank God the main structure of the house was stone, or we might not have made it out. Black smoke billowed, and the people stood so close, the sweat and soot on their faces made them appear like they'd crawled out of a coal mine. As we moved closer, keeping our cover in the tree line, I recognized faces from the church service, but there were also others, ones who, like Perimo, absorbed the light around them. Biblical verses were interspersed with guttural proclamations and what I could only guess were curses.

  Freezing rain evaporated before it got within yards of the fire, but it covered other noises as it smacked the trees and cars on the road. The heat from the fire was only deepened by the unseasonably warm weather that melted a lot of the snow and raised the level of the creek, its splashes and trickles covering our footsteps and scent. Custos led the way.

  I struggled to keep up with Tens's clearheaded purpose and long strides. The shadows and firelight grew dim behind us; the shouts and high temperature faded away.

  And still we plodded on. We headed in the opposite direction of where I'd gotten lost trying to find Celia, but the forest all looked the same. Huge water droplets dripped down on us from the trees above, but the hail had either stopped falling or it wasn't making it through the foliage to hurt us. The cold that had frozen my lungs for days was gone, replaced by a crispness that woke me up and kept me going.

  Tens stopped and listened. I ran into his back, my eyes down, focused on each footstep. "Sor—" I whispered.

  He shook his head, cutting off my apology.

  I stood stock-still behind him, wondering what he was listening for. The forest wasn't quiet, but neither was it noisy. How did he pick out the sounds to worry about?

  "We're okay." He turned to me. "Right?"

  "Right."

  "We're almost there. Can you keep going?"

  "Or you'll carry me?" I asked with a hint of a smile.

  Clearly, he didn't know I was teasing, "I pulled something at the train, so my back is really sore. I don't think I can—"r />
  "Then give me my bag." I didn't need to be coddled anymore. Granted I'd been a mess when I first got here, but I was better every day. Stronger. Healthier.

  "You sure?" Tens asked, flicking the flashlight to my face. He handed over my bag.

  "You really don't look very good." I said, studying him in the little light cast by the flashlight.

  "It's nothing." He dismissed me. "I've got hot chocolate and dry clothes when we get there."

  "That's motivation. Lead on." I grinned.

  We hiked on. Occasionally Tens paused, turned out the light, and listened. He stumbled once or twice, unlike his normal agile self, but we were both exhausted.

  Finally, we turned into a steep canyon filled with Douglas fir and ferns. The piles of snow that had slid down the side of the cliffs created a tunnel of ice and snow around us. It was a cool blue in the early-morning light.

  Custos whined and waited for us.

  "I dug a path. It's melting but still fairly stable. It's not long and there's a cave on the other side."

  "When? All those treks and errands?"

  Tens squeezed my hand. "Wait till you see it. It's the four-star Hilton resort of your dreams."

  "Really?" I laughed. My standards had surely fallen if a cave and a resort could be compared in the same sentence.

  "Really." He crouched, following Custos.

  Tens lifted a branch at the end of the tunnel, then pushed against a door that appeared to be rock, but was clearly much lighter. He stepped back. "Ladies first." He handed me the flashlight, which I shone into the dark hole, ducking down.

  Custos pushed past me and yipped a welcome I'd never heard from her before.

  I gasped, shocked by what greeted me.

  Chapter 32

  Holy crap!" I dropped my bag and shrugged out of my drenched coat. The interior temperature was amazingly cozy.

  Tens flicked a switch and several lamps hung from the ceiling illuminated. I pointed at them.

  "Battery rigged." He shrugged, "Charles."

  The rock walls were decorated with ancient paintings like ones I'd seen only in books. Paintings of huge people with spears, and animals.

  An old Oriental rug in noble burgundy and blue tones graced the rock floor. Shelves made of branches held books, knickknacks, and stacks of Auntie's quilts; a rod made from a sapling held a curtain I recognized as identical to the ones in the library. "This is amazing! What is this place?"

  I realized I was dripping water all over a discarded piece of linoleum.

  "Please remove your boots in the mudroom." Tens cracked a smile, clearly pleased with my delight.

  I bent and tugged at my soaked laces until they gave, then I toed out of my boots.

  "Your hideout, my lady." Tens also removed his coat and gloves. "Superheated by geothermal energy and the very occasional battery-powered space heater, but it has to be way below zero for that to be necessary. Towels are to your left. Get out of that stuff, Meri. We can't afford to get sick."' Tens sounded tired.

  I shivered as my cold, wet clothes were replaced by warm cotton bathsheets.

  Tens rambled on about the cave. "It's an old Anasazi settlement. About fifty years ago Charles found it while out exploring and began making improvements. He called it their vacation home. Come on, I'll give you a tour."

  I nodded, suddenly feeling shy.

  "You've just entered the living area. I have a couple of inflatable chairs for warmer weather and I have a bench that's in progress." Pillows were piled haphazardly on the rug, which felt warm against my bare feet.

  Tens pushed the curtain to the side. "The kitchen and dining area. We don't have refrigeration for the summer figured out, and we don't really want to attract bears, so the food—mostly camping stuff or canned—is locked in metal boxes. But right now we're okay, and there are a couple of hollows in the rack that make perfect iceboxes. These burners run on gas cartridges or battery power, even solar if we want to use them in the summer."

  "How? When? Wha—'' I felt like I'd fallen down the rabbit hole. This was a palace. I explored the stocked kitchen, the mismatched dishes, the plastic tub that made a sink of sorts.

  "Charles did a lot of it. I cleaned the place up, evicted a few tenants, and restocked. Auntie hadn't been out here in years, but it held up pretty well. And I'm kidding about the bears—no entrance to this place is big enough for one, and I haven't seen evidence of any in the years I've been coming out here."

  "This was all your mysterious disappearances, wasn't it?"

  He nodded. "Behind that curtain is the toilet. Charles figured out it's deeper than five hundred feet. So it's also a garbage chute."

  I peeked behind the curtain. "There's a toilet seat."

  "I added that part." Tens sheepishly glanced away.

  "Nice." I smiled at him.

  "The bedroom." He motioned me ahead. "There are inflatable mattresses, but also thick mats and plenty of—"

  "Quilts?" I interrupted.

  "Yeah. Plus down sleeping bags and battery-powered warmers, so we'll be toasty even if the temp dips way low again. Want to see the best part?"

  "There's more?"

  "Of course. It has its own personal hot spring for bathing, a heated vent, courtesy of Mother Earth, for drying wet clothes on, and—"

  "I can't believe this place." I turned in a full circle as the high ceiling reached cathedral-like heights. There were murals above us, and the air was warm and thick with humidity.

  "Charles did the paintings."

  "Wow."' I recognized scenes from Auntie's stories, depicting her childhood and marriage. The mural wasn't finished.

  "He died before he could complete it." Tens pointed to the old paint cans and brushes in the corner. "I didn't want to clean them up."

  I nodded.

  "You hungry? I could use food."

  "I think I heard the promise of hot chocolate?"

  "Want a candy cane with that?" Tens lifted a lantern and we moved back the way we had come. "Oh, and through that passageway is the way out on the other side. Very easy to navigate, and I've got a motorcycle there in case we need to get gone."

  "Have you missed anything?" I asked, incredulous.

  "Thank Auntie. She's the one who told me we'd need this."

  Okay, modesty only took him so far. This wasn't exactly near the house and he'd made lots of trips.

  "I've brought lots of clothes—your SpongeBob pj's are hanging in the bedroom. If you want them."

  SpongeBob. I hadn't noticed they weren't in my room. I slid behind the dressing screen and shimmied out of my wet bra and panties. Pulling the very dry and almost warm flannel over my thawing skin felt wonderful.

  "Wool socks are in the Ritz cracker tin," Tens called.

  Sure enough, there was an assortment of bright colors. I grabbed a pair and pulled them on.

  "Let me help?" I asked, joining Tens. I pulled a chocolate brown fuzzy sweater over my head and wrapped a quilt around my shoulders. I almost felt human. I reached for the wooden spoon and pushed him toward the clothes. "Your turn."

  I stirred the canned soup until it boiled and the scent of chicken broth filled the space. I lit candles, and Custos settled herself snoring in front of a space heater.

  We ate in silence, slurping down the heat and noodles. What now?

  "We're safe. Not a bad way to start the New Year." Tens seemed to read my mind.

  "But what now?"

  "Let's take a few days, then I'll go down and scout. We can stay here for a while, but..."

  "Perimo is a Nocti. I saw him at the fire. I remember he took Celia. How do we fight him?"

  "Auntie told you to go find other Fenestras, right? Maybe one of them can help?"

  "You mean leave?"

  "Why stay? Let them have their church—at least until we know how to take Perimo down for good. If he can kill you, he will."

  "I know. I just wish I knew more about the Sangre and how to call for one."

  "We can try dreaming and prayi
ng for one. We don't have to figure it out tonight. I'm beat. You ready for sleep? We can clean up later." He seemed about ready to fall over, his cheeks flushed and red, his eyes liquid and bright.

  Tens and I unrolled the zero-temp sleeping bags and unfolded the heavy mats for padding. I didn't know whether I was sleeping near him or across the cave. I wanted to press against him, to know I wasn't alone even in the deepest of sleep. But I didn't know how to ask him. I blew out the candles and turned all but one of the lanterns off. Tens crawled into his bag and sleep claimed him immediately. His breathing evened and deepened. I glanced at Custos for guidance.

  Finally, I tucked myself into my sleeping bag and scooted close to Tens. He woke enough to pull me closer; my head fit perfectly in the crook between his head and shoulder. I turned off the lantern, plunging the cave into the deepest of blacks. Tens shifted closer still and I listened to his breathing and Custos's snores. He was so warm. I fell asleep immediately. But I didn't dream.

  * * *

  When I woke, I blinked in the darkness and reached until I found the lamp switch. I glanced at the watch Tens wore faithfully. It was two o'clock, but whether that was daytime or nighttime I had not a clue. I peeled myself as quietly as I could out of the sleeping bag. Tens didn't move.

  I dressed and took our wet clothes to the back room and draped them over the vent on the cast-iron grill. I brushed my teeth and poked around. Knowing I'd gotten more sleep than Tens over the past few days. I wanted him to catch up as much as possible.

  I found my backpack and opened it. Inside, a cheap cell phone was actually charged and had minutes on it, but there was no signal. I found Auntie's leather-bound journal, the letter she'd written me, a few stacks of cash, and bank records that were in my name. There were also a couple of the graphic novels I'd carted around since the beginning of this adventure.

  I flipped to the back of the journal, hoping Auntie had added a postscript, and I smiled.

  Dearest Child,

  Let me go. If you’re reading this, then you made the right decision. Trust Tens. In turn, keep watch over him, Love is a precious gift—one without strings, Always want what's best for him, even when you disagree, As he'll want what's best for you.

  I lived one hundred six packed years. They are frayed at the edges and ready for repair. I am ready for a rest. I do not know how many changes in the seasons you will see, but I hope it's the full one hundred six. Keep your eyes open and rise to your experiences, I am proud of you, my child, and I will be watching.