Page 142 of Dawn Caravan
She shook her head. “You can’t let them know you’re still here. Whatever Vano told Radu—”
“That’s exactly the point. We don’t know. We need to find out what the rumors are and what the mood in the camp is, and René will know, but the note he gave us told us almost nothing. Probably by design.”
“I wish there was someone slightly less self-interested we could trust.”
He took a steadying breath. Brigid wasn’t wrong when she said “getting a leg over” helped. Ben’s head felt clearer than it had in months.
“I have a thought, but—”
“Tatyana?”
He turned to her. “How did you know?”
Tenzin glanced at him but kept her eyes on the camp in the distance. “You have good instincts. I believe she could be a reliable source, and she doesn’t seem overly eager to curry favor with anyone.”
“Even if they find me, it’s not the end of the world. You’re the only one Vano thinks is dead.”
“I don’t like it.” She narrowed her eyes. “But I will admit that with all the other wagons and trailers arriving tonight, it is probably the best time for you to go if you’re determined.”
He kissed her quickly. “I’ll be inconspicuous.”
“Not with that amnis,” she muttered. “We’re going to have some lessons on moderating that.”
“Are you saying I’m loud and flashy?”
“Like Giovanni wearing a cowboy hat.”
He grinned. “I would be insulted, but you’re cute when you’re irritated.”
She flicked her hand toward the camp. “Go. Try not to shout. If you’re gone more than an hour, I’m coming after you and I’ll probably destroy everything.”
He snorted. “You say the sweetest things.”
Ben flew off toward the twinkling torchlights in the distance.
Time to act human again.
* * *
There was onlyone group of humans near enough to the forest that Ben felt like he could infiltrate and blend in. They were around his age, dressed similarly in dark pants and ordinary T-shirts. A few wore vests or light jackets over their shirts, but that wasn’t a huge difference. Most had hair falling around their shoulders or pulled back in a knot and wore various lengths of beards. They looked like your average Eastern European hipsters.
The only problem? They were all speaking Poshani.
Since he was not a language expert who could pick up a foreign language in ten minutes, Ben waited until they began to walk back to the camp.
He trailed behind them, disguising the sound of his steps by directing the air around him, a highly useful tip Tai had taught him the year before. He stayed close enough that an observer would think him part of the group, but far enough away to keep the men from noticing him.
Once he entered the circle of travel trailers, he let out a breath. He quickly found a line of drying clothing and slipped on a vest; then he found a cap hanging on a hook at the end of a trailer. He pulled it down over his eyes, then walked to a solitary campfire burning in a cut-off barrel, using that vantage point to survey the camp.
Busy, busy, busy. If he wanted to get into the center of the trailers where Tatyana probably was, he needed to find an errand to run or a job to do.
He spotted the shovel and rake within minutes.
Okay, gross, but at least no one was likely to get too close.
When you had as many horses around the camp as the Poshani liked to have, you also had more than a little horse manure. Ben grabbed the shovel and rake, trying not to gag at the pungent scent of horse shit and piss. Sometimes being a newly turned vampire was a good thing. More than one of his immortal acquaintances had remarked that Ben still “walked like a human.” He didn’t know what that meant, but he was hoping they weren’t just bullshitting him.
He began walking through the alleys between the rings of caravans, working his way, bit by bit, into the center.
