Page 63 of The Girl in the Forest

“The witches are dead,” Grayson said. “Have been for some time. The cave may have collapsed.”

“Already sent someone to check.”

“The Alpen wards were down when we came through,” I said.

Jodan nodded, another puff of gray smoke drifting from his lips. “People still come and go. I figure whatever those witches did, it turned permanent. Or someone else wants the wards down so they can move as they please. Either way, the Mule won’t fix them because they need the smuggler kickbacks coming through. Revenues got to come from somewhere.”

“Any incursions from the north?” Grayson asked while I juggled my tea.

“Odd things. We thought a passage opened up where it hadn’t been. Then disappeared.”

“If you ever need help,” Grayson said, “get word to me. Any of your people who wish to come, they’ll have safe passage.”

“I thank you for the kindness, but we’ve a lot of unfinished business with the Mule. Families gone missing, snatched up and punished for things they didn’t do. The people here—they’ll stay and fight. Try to find their loved ones.”

“The offer stands. For anything you need.”

I glanced at Grayson, and mouthed, “thank you,” even though I knew he’d made the offer before and didn’t need my anger to make him do it again.

“Bah.” A twinkle had entered the elder’s eyes. “We believe in self-sufficiency here, part of Sutter’s charm.”

Burn came back to lean against my knee. His breathing sounded rough, and as I scratched his ears, I wondered if the old dog was simply too feeble to walk far without resting. I couldn’t imagine him making the trek through a passage, or Jodan leaving his “burden” behind. No, the old man would stay and fight for those gone missing.

“Adriel will take your lady to lodging.” Jodan held Grayson’s gaze. “We’ll sit awhile and talk until dinnertime.”

My eyes widened as I turned to Grayson, gave the slightest shake of my head. I didn’t want to be in the middle of Alpen territory, separated from him until dinnertime.

“No harm will come,” Jodan said to me.

But my heart raced and my skin chilled.

Grayson said, “Go with Adriel. I’ll be along soon.”

I would do it for him, I decided. This time, without argument, because I owed him my cooperation and he needed to speak to Jodan. Five minutes later, I was standing beside Adriel in the middle of a clean, one-room cabin where a fire burned in a stone fireplace and warmed the air. Bleached mortar filled the gaps in the peeled log walls, and the hand-crafted table was smooth and sturdy. I smiled at the ceramic teapot and cups sitting on the table—a woman’s touch—along with the flowered cotton curtains framing two small windows where the rain beat against the rippled glass.

When Old Mae arrived, Adriel took her damp shawl, then signed something, her fingers moving while Old Mae translated, moving her own fingers. Using sign language seemed as natural and constant as speech for these rebels.

“Adriel says the privy is outside—a dash in the rain. You won’t get too wet. Everything you need is already there. And I’ll be Old Mae, since the imp has no manners to let me say my peace.”

Adriel giggled when I met her mischievous gaze. She signed something new, and Old Mae huffed and glared while continuing with her translation.

“She wants to tell you not to worry, the privy roof doesn’t leak like it did before, right on your head when you’re sitting there—which never bothered the men much, not until the women got together complaining about maintenance.” The woman offered a gap-toothed smile. “That part’s got the right of it. Because, just like that, all the privies were fixed, with new seats too.”

And as we continued our strange three-way chat, I relaxed. Old Mae tutted, and said, “You look like you’ve been mud-rolling. Better clean you up before you catch a chill.”

Adriel supervised the children who brought buckets of water and an oval wooden tub. While the water heated over the fire, Old Mae ordered me out of my clothes, then wrapped me in a blanket with a towel around my shoulders. For an instant, I considered heating the water myself, surging a touch of energy, then decided not to risk a water explosion that would drench the inside of the cabin even worse than the rain outside.

Fortunately, the water heated quickly, and I leaned over the wooden tub while Old Mae washed my hair, her hands gentle as she worked the suds against my scalp, and it was a luxurious feeling, being taken care of with such care. When the water was dirty, the children brought in fresh despite my protests, and soon I was sitting in a warm scented bath, having my back scrubbed.

“They tell me you went to see the witches,” Old Mae said.

“Yes. I wanted to ask them a question.”

“Questions are dangerous with those seers, but I’m sure your man told you that.”

I couldn’t stop the smile. “Several times.”

“Must have been an important question.”

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