“Mountain Heart,” Abe says. There’s a twingeof something in his voice—something not normal for how you shouldsound just after hearing about someone you know having died. He’sshocked, yah, but not as much as I’d expect him to be.
“Do you know something about this?” I saysharply, stepping toward him.
Brock and Hightower move forward at the sametime, penning me in.
He looks at me absently, like he’s not seeingme. “Heart, I never thought they’d…” He trails off.
“Never thought who would what?” I ask,bumping Brock.
Abe’s murky expression clears and the firereturns to his dark eyes. Whatever surprise or confusion is gone.“Here’s the deal,” he says. “You’re asking too many questions,which as you well know, is against the rules. But we’ll let itslide this one time, just like the last time you did somethingstupid by hitting me. This is it. Your last chance.”
“And Nebo?” I say, glancing at Brock’sfingers, which are twitching wildly, like he’s hoping I go for Abeagain so he can go for me.
“He was out of chances,” Abe says, his wordscold, but his tone not. Something doesn’t make sense. Abe’s sayingall the things he’s supposed to, but there’s nothing behindthem.
He knows something.
The cold soup I ate for dinner roils in mygut. Nebo’s frozen, bashed-in face flashes through my mind.Everything in me is saying “Fight! Attack! Punch! Hit!” but foronce in my life, I ignore my temper. These guys are serious. Eitherthey killed a man or they knew someone might kill a man. At leastone that we know of. Probably more. All in the service of the king.Bad man, Nebo had said. I think he was referring to theking, but his words seem to apply to everyone standing in front ofme.
“What’s the medicine for?” I say, breakinganother rule. A challenge.
“They’re just tea leaves,” Abe says, his faceblank, not reacting to my guess as to the nature of the herbs.
“It’s medicine,” I say, pushing my luck.
“Don’t do this,” Abe says.
I grin at him, filling my smile with as muchhate as I can muster. I raise a fist, flash it toward him and heflinches back. When Brock and Tower inch forward, I laugh. “A bitjumpy, aren’t you?” I say.
I lean down and strap on my slider, ignoringthe glares Abe’s firing in my direction. As much as I’d love totake on all three of them, it’d be suicide, for Buff too; plus,even though the two months are up and our debts are paid off, Ineed to keep this job so I can find out what in Heart’s name isgoing on.
I’ll bide my time.
I won’t forget what they did to Nebo. And Isurely won’t forgive it.
~~~
The Heaters are waiting for us when we reachthe bottom, at a place on the border we’ve never been before. Theprisoners aren’t there to meet us this time. It’s a big man, alone,wearing more clothes than the other Heaters I’ve seen, full lengthpants and a loose-fitting, V-necked shirt.
“King Goff sends his regards,” Abe says.
“And pass along mine to him,” the Heatersays.
“Where’s the cargo, Roan?” Abe’s looking allaround, like it might be scampering across fire country.Roan! So this is the Heater leader—they call him the HeadGreynote.
“We’ve had a slight problem,” Roan says, hiseyes darker than the night.
Abe’s eyes narrow. “What sort ofproblem?”
“You have to understand, we’re under attackfrom all sides. The Killers are attacking again. The Glassies seemto want us wiped off the face of fire country. The Wildes stealmore and more of our women every year.”
“But you still have your alliance with theMarked?” Abe says. I’m trying to keep up with the conversation, butmost of it’s going in one ear and out the other. Killers? Wildes?Marked? At least I understand the Glassies, but why would they wantto wipe out the Heaters?
“I’d hardly call it an alliance,” Roan says.“More like an understanding. But yes, we trade wood and food fortheir services.”
“So what’s the problem?” Abe persists.
“We couldn’t get any cargo this season,” Roansays. I want to scream out “What is the freezin’ cargo?” but I knowif I do I might end up in a snowy grave next to Nebo.
Abe shakes his head, a look of wondercrossing his face. “You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t?”
Roan’s jaw goes tight and I see his handscurl into fists. His face turns a darker shade of brown. I knowthose signs. This is a man with a temper. A bad one, maybe worsethan mine, which would be saying something. And his dark expressionisn’t saying punch and wrestle and fight…it’s saying kill.
“Couldn’t,” he says through gritted teeth.“We’ll have cargo for you at the end of spring.”
“Ha!” Abe laughs. “You expect to get yourprecious herbs for a full season based on the promise of cargo inthree months’ time? Is that really what you want me to tell theking?”
Roan steps forward, his face speckled withstarlight and mottled with anger. “You will do what I tell you todo, and let Goff make the decisions. You’re nothing but a filthymessenger.”
I almost laugh, but manage to hold it in,passing it off as a cough. The tension is so tight that no one evenlooks my way. Abe’s trying to hold it together, to keep a braveface, but I can see he’s intimidated by Roan, his lip quivering,his cheeks sagging. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll tell the king what yousaid. But no promises.”
“Good,” Roan says. “When he agrees to the newterms, which I’m confident he will, bring the Cure here in threedays’ time.”
As we turn and walk away, one word thumpsthrough my head: Cure.
Chapter Twelve
“Cure for what?” Isay, already knowing the answer.
“There’s only one thing that needs a cure,”Buff says.
“The Cold,” I say.
“They call it the Fire,” Buff says.
“The Fire…” I murmur, as if it’s somethingsacred, like the Heart of the Mountain. “But Goff can’t have a curefor the Cold—the Fire. People are dying of it more than ever.Almost every day.” I know the answer to that too, but I want Buffto confirm it.
“He’s keeping it from us,” Buff says.
“And giving it to the Heaters.” Ice him!Freeze him! How can he have a cure and not share it with his ownpeople? But wait…
“But the Heaters are still dying of the Fire.I hear them talking about it all the time when we go to theborder,” I say, frowning. It clicks and this time I don’t wait forBuff to say it first. “Roan’s keeping it from his people too,because he’s only getting enough for himself and maybe the otherleaders.”
“Icin’ straight,” Buff says.
It’s all coming together. The secrecy. Whythe king had to have Nebo killed off. Not because he knew, butbecause he might talk about it. If we were able to draw a bit ofinformation out of him, then maybe someone else could get the wholestory. And the king couldn’t have that. There would be mutiny,rebellion. The Icers would string him up from a tree branch.
We killed Nebo.
The realization hits me like a winter wind,chilling me to my bones. If we hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t gothim riled up enough to tell us about the medicine, he might stillbe alive. But how would the king have known what Nebo told us? Oneof his men must’ve been spying. “Ice it!” I say.
“What do we do?” Buff says.
“Nothing,” I say. “There’s more to thisstory, and we need to know everything before we make a move.”Starting with what the special cargo is that Roan failed todeliver. Unfortunately, that means we’ll have to wait until the endof spring to find out.
~~~
We play the game, show up for work every fewdays, deliver blah blah blah to the border, collect some other blahblah blah and lug it back to the castle. Evidently King Goffbuckled to Roan’s new terms, because every few weeks we deliverbags of the Cure. Keeping the Heater leader alive and free of theFire, while Icers and Heaters continue to die from the Cold.