Forests of the Heart (40 page)

“Maybe. But not as hard as you lot.”

“Don’t you forget that, boyo.”

All Donal wanted to do was grab him and start pounding his Gentry head against the nearest tree, but that would serve no purpose except to allow him to vent his anger. There was no percentage in it. Nothing to be gained. Donal could be patient. Time enough to deal with them when he had the mask. Until then, they were simply walking dead men, so far as he was concerned. But powerful enough in their own way. No need to test their mettle.

So he put on a friendly mask, the one he always wore around the Gentry, a little hard, a lot wary. They liked it that he stood up for himself, but they liked to think they scared him, too. He could accommodate them. He’d always been good with masks, but then most people were. Who showed their true face, their true feelings, anymore? The Green Man mask would simply be one more, though more potent to be sure. When he had that, all the other masks could be thrown away.

For now he squinted at the hard man. He was looking for something you wouldn’t know was there unless you knew to keep an eye out for it. The heavy sleet continued to pound down on him while the hard man was unaffected and Donal knew why. It was because he stood between, in that uncertain and shifting place that separated this world from faerie. It wasn’t a place Donal could find on his own, but with the hard man there, he could mark its boundaries. He slid a foot forward, concentrated on not looking straight at it, coming to it sideways, and then he was there, too, watching the rain, rather than feeling it, sensing the cold, but untouched by it.

He wiped the water from his face, raked his fingers through beard and hair to break up and dislodge the ice that had crusted on it. That was better.

“What’re you up to tonight, boyo?” the hard man asked him.

“I’ve come to see Ellie, but I got a little delayed by the weather.”

“She’s gone. Drove off in that van.”

With Tommy, Donal thought, translating the shorthand. So they’d actually gone off to make their rounds in the Angel Outreach minivan. Well, good luck to them in this weather. Considering what he’d seen on the way over, the only people they’d be serving up toddies and treats to would be police and repairmen.

“She’ll be back,” Donal said.

The hard man shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. There’s been a problem.”

Donal turned to look at him.

“Your man in the music store,” the hard man said.

“Hunter?”

“That’s a good name for him, considering.”

“Considering what?”

“How he’s up and murdered one of us.”

Donal’s eyes widened slightly, the mask almost slipping. Jaysus, he thought. Good on you, Hunter. I didn’t think you had it in you. But you’d better run far and fast now because you’ve gone and signed your own bloody death warrant, don’t think for a moment you haven’t.

“So what have you done with him?” he asked.

“Nothing. He’s under her protection.”

“Her?”

“An
dealbhóir.
The sculptor.”

“Ah.”

None of this made sense. What was Ellie doing with Hunter when she was supposed to be out in the van with Tommy? And then there was Hunter himself, killing one of the Gentry. Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph. How was
that
possible? A few days ago Hunter had been incapacitated by a simple sucker punch, and now he was killing Gentry?

“So now what will you do?” Donal asked the hard man.

He shrugged. “We’re thinking on it.”

They were cunning, these hard men, capable of putting together plots of Machiavellian complexity, but not particularly bright, for all that. The thinking could take a long time, so maybe Hunter had a chance. If he traveled fast and far enough.

“Well, I’m off,” the hard man told him. “There’s a thought
an dealbhóir
might be reconsidering her bargain.”

That made Donal snap to attention.

“She wouldn’t,” he assured the man.

Jaysus, she’d better not, or he’d be left without a bargain himself.

“Then why’s she heading north?” the hard man asked. “Into the mountains where the enemy lives?”

“There’s some reasonable explanation.”

The hard man shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out. The others are already on their way. We’ll follow and see who she meets, and if it goes badly …” He ran a finger across his throat. “We can find another.”

“You won’t have to.”

The hard man gave another shrug. “We can be patient.”

“But to be so close.”

“Aye, there’s the rub. You ask me, we’ve been listening too much to the old hag in her cabin. Since when did we need a mask to have our way? Why rule, when you can simply kill?”

“Because there’s so many of them. A Green Man can run them off the land like lemmings over a cliff.”

The hard man spat. “I don’t like it.”

As he started to walk away, Donal called after him: “Do you mind if I hang about awhile? Stay dry while I’m waiting for Ellie to come back?”

He knew they didn’t like anyone messing about in their territory and if this between wasn’t, then what was?

“Might be a long wait,” the hard man told him. “And what happened to the fucking beautiful night you were telling me about?”

“Lost its charm with your cheery news.”

The hard man laughed. “Do what you want. But watch out for the shadow. The little shite’s been sniffing around again tonight.”

Donal had yet to fully understand what the shadow was, and why the Gentry didn’t simply get rid of him if he bothered them so.

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

“Like I give a fuck,” the hard man told him.

Donal watched him slip away under the trees until he was lost from sight. The smile on his face disappeared and he turned back to look at the house. It wasn’t quick he wanted them to die, but slow. Let them remember every cold word and disdainful smirk they’d given him.

He slid down, back against a tree, and sat on the ground, dry here, in the between, tufts of dried grass cushioning his rear.

Don’t mess this up on me, Ellie, he thought.

He’d wait here until morning, then go round by the house whether she was back or not. Worm his way inside, look around. That Spanish woman fancied him, no matter what Ellie thought. She’d be his ticket.

Because he had his own ideas about how necessary a new mask was. The old one had belonged to a hundred Kings in the Wood in its time, bestowing a Green Man’s mantle on them all. Who was to say it wasn’t potent enough for one more change on its own, just as it was? The Gentry couldn’t know. It needed a mortal man to work its enchantment, and they were anything but.

Still, they could die by a mortal’s hand. Hunter had proved that much. Truth was, he hadn’t been so sure, for all his brave words to Hunter.

He shook his head, still surprised. Jaysus. Hunter killing a man. Who’d have thought he’d find the balls?

Been hanging around with me too much, he thought with a grin. A little bit of courage had to have worn off on him.

Once Tommy agreed to drive up to the rez, Ellie didn’t want to waste any time, decision made, let’s do
it.
But
it
wasn’t that simple. For one thing, the van would never make it, not unless they had it towed up there by some treaded behemoth like a front-end loader. So after they cleared off the windshield yet again, Tommy drove them back to Grasso Street where they could swap the van for his pickup. While he and Hunter transferred what they needed from the van to Tommy’s truck—more warm clothes, blankets, candles, and the like, which the residents of the rez might be needing about now— she went inside to replenish their supplies and check in with Angel.

The office was deserted, but there was a note from Angel on the desk addressed to all of the volunteers saying that they should call it a night.

“Okay, it’s a night,” Ellie muttered as she continued to read.

Angel herself was working with a couple of the local churches, prepping basements and meeting halls for shelters in case they were needed and anyone was welcome to come down and help out, but the streets had become too treacherous for them to keep the vans out tonight.

Ellie felt a little guilty that they were taking off and abandoning Angel like this, but she didn’t see that they had any other choice. There were times when your personal life took over and if this didn’t count as one of them, then what did? Thank god she didn’t have to explain things to Angel—where would she even have begun? Considering how little patience Angel had for Jilly’s stories, it would have been a tough sell.

Happily, all she had to do was scrawl a note at the bottom of Angel’s, letting her know that they’d brought the van back and were safe. She chewed on the end of the pen for a moment, wondering if she should add that they were going up to the rez, then decided that it would only give Angel something to worry about. And what if the Gentry came by and read it? That’d be all they’d need, to have those guys realize that she was backing out of whatever deal they thought she’d made with them. Better the three of them just lost themselves up on the rez and hope that Tommy’s aunts could sort something out for them.

That made her stop and think. How easy was it to hide from creatures such as the Gentry? They seemed to have their own, and fairly effective, ways of finding people if tonight was any indication. Still, why make things any easier for them?

She refilled a couple of their coffee urns, packed some paper bags with sandwiches, doughnuts, and muffins, and headed back out behind the office where Tommy and Hunter were waiting for her.

“What did Angel say?” Tommy asked as she climbed in the passenger’s side of the pickup.

Hunter got in after her and closed the door.

“She wasn’t there,” Ellie said. “They’re off getting some of the churches ready in case they’re needed for shelters.”

Tommy nodded. “Smart. That’s Angel—always thinking ahead.”

He put the truck in gear and pulled out. The rear end fishtailed a little, but not nearly as badly as the van had. Tommy shot his passengers a grin.

“Let’s hear it for studded tires and four-wheel drive,” he said.

The trip out of town was slow, but uneventful. There were power lines down now, with blocks of darkened buildings and the occasional unpassable street as a result. Work crews were everywhere, hydro as well as city, cutting branches, dealing with the live wires, clearing streets of debris. And still the freezing rain came down, only a drizzle at this point, but no less dangerous for that. It wasn’t until they reached the north end of the city, where Williamson Street turns into Highway 5, that they were waved over to the side of the road by a police officer. He left his car and approached the truck, his slicker glistening with rain and ice.

“Is the highway closed off?” Tommy asked the officer when he reached the window.

“No, but I’ll bet it will be soon. Where are you heading?”

“Up to the rez.”

“Bad night for it.” He peered closer. “Hey, you’re one of Angel’s people.”

Tommy nodded.

“You, too,” the officer said to Ellie. “I saw your picture in the paper last week.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re not going to ask for an autograph are you?”

“You got anything dry to write on?”

She shook her head and the officer laughed.

“Well, I’m supposed to be warning people off the highway, but…” He stepped back, took in the illegal tires. “I guess if it’s important…”

“It is.”

“You got a radio in case you go off the road?”

“CB and cell phone.”

“Well, you might as well go through. Take it slow, and—what’d you say your name was, son?”

“Tommy Raven.”

“No, shit? My name’s Tommy, too. Tommy Flanagan—like the piano player, though I can’t play an instrument to save my life.”

“Join the club.”

The officer stepped back from the truck. “Remember, slow and easy. And Tommy? I don’t want to see those tires when you get back to town.”

“Consider it done.”

“I will. Give Angel my best.”

Tommy waited until the officer had returned to his cruiser before putting the truck in gear and pulling out. He beeped his horn as he passed the cruiser and Flanagan gave them a wave, then they were on the highway, heading north.

Flanagan hadn’t been exaggerating about the condition of the highway. If anything, it was worse than he’d let on and it took all Tommy’s attention to keep them on the road and moving forward. On the plus side, there was no other traffic to contend with, which made the treacherous driving conditions a little less dangerous. But at this rate, the hour-and-a-half drive was going to take them twice the time.

Ellie sighed. “It feels like it’s never going to let up.”

“Just pray the temperature doesn’t drop,” Tommy said, “or we’ll be in deep shit.”

Ellie nodded. If it did, all the water and slush would freeze up solid and most roads would become completely impassable. Not to mention the problems it’d cause in all those places that had lost their power. Burst water pipes. No heat. Nothing to cook on.

“Christ, I should’ve thought of this sooner,” Hunter suddenly said. “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure,” Tommy said. “Who’re you calling?”