The twins hovered nearby, not overly concerned by the mess, but curious. Suen, meanwhile, followed him patiently from body part to body part. He was quiet, but there was a growing
“There’s a story here. Galen? What do you think?” Suen pointed to an arm coated with green, then at a hunk of what was more meat than—than whatever it had been alive, Enris decided.
After his own examination, Galen went to the crates. He moved a couple of smaller ones aside, studied others with care. When he turned to face them again, his craggy features were set and hard. “I agree. These Strangers killed the Oud.”
“You can’t know that,” Enris protested. There wasn’t a Talent to show past events, was there? His uncle, formidable in his own way, was no Adept.
“I can. Only Oud juice on the crates means they died carrying them, or were nearest to them.” Galen indicated the arm. “Being dragged spread more of their goo around, but see this? The only splashes are high on the Strangers’ bodies. They were standing when the Oud died, close enough to be the cause.” He pointed to the meaty piece. “And that’s what a Digger can do. I don’t know,” flat-voiced, “the why of any of this. But Diggers rush to protect their Minded, like stingers boiling out of their nest. I’d say they did this time, but were too late.”
What had Marcus said? That it took two to turn off the defenses. Things began to make a terrible sense. “That’s why the Human’s camp was left intact,” Enris said numbly, remembering the smoke rising from the platform on the lake, the destruction on the mountainside, Marcus’ grief and worry. “The thieves knew what they wanted would be here. The two working with the artifacts were part of it.” Marcus had trusted those he’d left. They’d betrayed him.
For what lay inside these crates.
“I don’t understand. Why would they kill Oud?” Netta was pale. “Didn’t the Oud invite the Strangers here? Didn’t they work together?”
“The Oud worked with Marcus. They knew the artifacts were important to him; that he wanted them kept safe. And what does ‘safe’ mean to Oud?” Enris gestured to the pile. “Underground. My guess is the Oud decided to take all this into their tunnels and the thieves had to stop them. Try to stop them.”
Silence, inside and out, as the others absorbed this. He understood. This wasn’t good, on any level.
Josel spoke first, radiating
Her twin answered, her eyes widening. “They’ll attack us, like Tuana!”
More loaded on Aryl’s small shoulders.
Enris would have winced if he hadn’t agreed completely. “Let’s get out of here, before we’re the ones who confuse the Oud.” Above ground, and with his Chosen.
“What about the artifacts?” Suen asked, eyes flashing. “If they’re valuable, we should take them with us.”
Galen frowned, but gestured agreement. “You’re right.”
Maybe to a Runner, used to grabbing whatever could be moved in hopes of future gain. Enris fought for patience. “Their value to the Strangers caused this problem. We can’t risk bringing them to Sona.”
“We could ’port them to a hiding place,” Netta offered eagerly. Josel nodded, coming to stand beside her twin.
About to argue the goo-stained crates were well hidden right here, Enris felt a
She grew distant.
Chapter 11
THE PITTED SURFACE of the old wall was warm beneath Aryl’s splayed fingers, returning the last of the sun’s gift. The air itself was cooling rapidly; mountain spring, colder than any season in Yena. Her coat hung on its hook in Sona. As if cold or coat mattered.
The ramp from the machine to the ground was metal. It rang with their careless steps. The cliff echoed their voices. The four who glanced beyond their fellows from time to time carried thick black objects in their hands. She marked them as threat.
