Weavers (The Frost Chronicles) (19 page)

“The phrase I spoke to you,” he began. “What woven secret will keep you warm?”

I nodded. I kept my face carefully composed despite the riot of nervousness dancing in my stomach.

“I read that phrase here, in this.” He ran a finger over the cover of the notebook. His mouth twisted with a painful smile as he ran his thumb across the corner of the pages, making them purr.

I wanted to reach out and snatch it from his hands. How could this notebook hold a riddle that my family had invented? Unless my father had taken it from some other place, appropriated an old riddle into something specific that related to his family alone? That must be it. But why then did this man repeat it to me, looking for a reaction? What did he know? What did he hope to discover?

Was this what Jonn wanted me to get from him?

The questions burned inside me.

Borde made a sound of frustration deep in his throat. He rose from his chair and gestured restlessly with one hand. “I cannot trust you. I cannot reveal what I know, not yet. And it is late.”

“I...” I had nothing to say. It was true. He did not trust me and I did not trust him. We were at an impasse. And perhaps this was all some clever ruse on his part, some trap to make me talk. I couldn’t be sure.

I had to be careful.

“I want something from you, too, but I cannot trust you either.”

He stared at me a long time. “I don’t know what to think of you,” he said.

I laughed.

“Can you find your way back to the workers’ barracks?” he asked.

“I know the path,” I said.

“Good.” He paused. “Be sure to stay on it. And move swiftly—take care that you are not seen.”

Again, the mysteriousness of his words prickled my spine. I nodded and went to the door. He opened it for me. I went out into the night. We exchanged no goodbyes. He simply watched as I stepped into the warm darkness and disappeared from his sight.

The forest around me hummed with quiet as I traveled down the path. The scents of pine and dirt reached my nose on a breeze that stirred my hair and made the cuffs on the sleeves of my work garment flutter. What was Borde up to? He had singled me out and repeated a riddle I’d known since infancy, then asked me to meet him here. He’d shown me a notebook but refused to give me any further information, citing a lack of trust. What was he afraid of? Who was he afraid of? Or was this all some elaborate trap designed to draw me out?

A sound interrupted my thoughts. The faintest rasp, like metal against stone. I stopped.

I knew that sound.

Reflexively, I scanned the forest. My pulse pounded in my throat. My breathing was too loud in my ears as I strained to hear. The shadows lay deep and still all around me. To my left, a tree branch quivered. I heard nothing.

Then—

The screech was loud and close, almost on top of me, and I ran without thinking. Years of practice spurred me forward to seek cover in the trees. Limbs whipped at my face and snagged my clothes, but I didn’t stop until I’d tumbled to safety beneath a boulder. Pine needles bit into the skin of my palms. My hair stuck in clumps to the sweat on my neck. I lay sprawled, breathing hard and searching for signs of movement.

And I saw it.

A motion, a curl of activity, a single stretch of fluid movement in the dark. Something shifted, stirred, emerged.

Moonlight glittered along a wicked-looking spine and glistened against a neck. Red gleamed from searching eyes. A mouth gaped, teeth sparkled.

A Watcher.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” CLAIRE blurted in horror as she peered at my face the next morning.

“I ran into a branch,” I replied, which was the truth. I was unable to think of a more suitable excuse as I gingerly touched the lacerations across my cheek, because I hadn’t slept. I could barely think.

I knew what I’d seen.

My chest tightened at the memory. I’d remained in the underbrush until the creature had passed. There had been no denying what it was. The teeth, the glowing red eyes, the vicious chugging of its hot breath. I’d returned back to the town at a stumbling run, vulnerable and terrified without any snow blossoms or embroidered cuffs to protect me. If the monsters attacked, I would have nothing. For the first time in my life, I was completely vulnerable against the creatures, and the sensation terrified me.

“If you see Garrett,” I said to Claire, “tell him I must speak to him at once.”

~

Gabe found me as I was finishing my work at the Labs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, drawing me aside to the privacy of an alcove and taking my face in both his hands. His touch was so gentle that my eyes almost prickled with tears. “Claire said—”

“I saw a Watcher in the woods,” I said.

He shook his head as he probed the cuts on my cheeks carefully. “You were imagining things. You heard the transports, perhaps. They are loud and sudden. Or one of the vehicles—”

“I wasn’t imagining anything. I know exactly what I saw. I’ve seen it multiple times. The red eyes. The massive teeth. The claws...”

“Lia,” he said, his tone coaxing. “It’s impossible. There are no Watchers here.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “I saw one last night in the woods.”

“Where? Near the Labs? The Security Center?”

“Not quite, it was near...” I stopped. I couldn’t tell him about Borde. Not yet. I needed to think about that a bit more. “It wasn’t far from it, though.”

I could see him sorting through things in his head, probably trying to choose the most gentle and soothing response. It rankled me. He was trying to assuage what he thought was panic on my part, female hysterics because of the pressure.

“You’re exhausted,” he said finally. “You’re still recovering from your jump. It’s only been a week. You’ve had a huge transition—”

“Gabe,” I interrupted. “I didn’t imagine this. Pretending that I made it all up does nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But there are no Watchers here. It has to be something else.”

“Or you’re wrong about that.”

He sighed. “Listen. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. I just...I don’t know what it means. And I need some snow blossoms.”

“All right.” He gave me a tired smile. “We’ll find you some snow blossoms.”

I still felt annoyed, because he was humoring me. I knew what I’d seen. There were Watchers here. I was sure of it.

~

We found the snow blossom bushes. They grew wild at intervals around the town and in some of the nearby fields, but the greatest abundance of them grew in a lush hollow between two hills. The flowers covered the hills like snow, and for a moment I almost felt as if I was back home in the Frost. In the distance, the white roof of a shimmering building curved and swooped in fantastic shapes, like a bird poised for flight. A fountain sparkled before a curving road, and in the distance I could see glimmers of the rails that carried the fast, silent trains. It was all alien to me, a magical and frightening landscape of another world.

“What is that place?” I asked.

“That’s the house of the Compound director,” Gabe said. “I work as a gardener here sometimes. Pretty, isn’t it?”

Pretty? I snorted. It made the village Mayor’s house seem like a shack in comparison. But that made me think of Ann, and thinking of Ann brought a stab of pain. I steered my mind back to the snow blossoms. “There are so many here.”

“The snow blossom is actually the Compound symbol, you see. The director’s wife chose it. And they aren’t native to this area,” he explained as I plucked a few fragrant blossoms from the stems and held them to my nose. “They actually don’t do so well here in the heat, but they’re the Compound director’s wife’s favorite flower, so she had them brought here. They’re transplanted from colder regions, where they were engineered to withstand extreme temperatures. Here, they grow like wild flowers. They’re spreading everywhere.”

So this was the origin of our precious blossoms. The whims of a rich man’s wife. I squinted again at the magnificent house in the distance. That woman, whoever she was, had no idea what her gardening would produce 500 years in the future. She had no idea that one day children in ragged cloaks would bind these flowers around their necks and wrists to keep them safe from red-eyed monsters that roamed a frozen wasteland.

The thought made me melancholy, wistful, and a bit annoyed.

I strung a few of the blossoms on a string and hung them around my neck, then plucked a few more to take back to my room. I would hang them to dry, and make more necklaces later.

When I raised my head, I found Gabe looking at me. His gaze was soft, open, and I felt suddenly nervous about what he might say. “Have you spoken to Jacob since the meeting night?” I asked.

“Not really,” he said. “He’s been busy. The Security Center has a new project they’ve been working on. With the increase in visits from the southern cities, they’ve needed extra security. Most of his time and attention has been focused there. The Compound is taking on new responsibilities when it comes to managing the Sickness...they are seeking a cure.”

“Do they find it?” I asked softly.

He laughed, but it was a helpless sound. “I don’t know. Our history books don’t extend this far back,” he said. “But if they do, it becomes lost. No one knows how to cure it in our time, you know.”

“Can we do anything to help them?”

He shook his head.

I felt strange, restless. We were out of place here, watching these people struggle, knowing it would all fall to pieces before long but not knowing why.

After gathering enough flowers, I headed for the Labs and my duties. The scent of the snow blossoms hanging from my neck surrounded me as I swabbed the floors of the Labs, making them shine even more brightly than they already did. Outwardly, I might look tranquil, but inside my head, I was turning over the various things I’d learned and seen in the last two days.

I hadn’t seen Doctor Borde again yet. I needed to approach him, set up another meeting. What was the meaning of that journal he’d showed me? How had he known my father’s riddle? I had so many questions, and there were no answers in sight. And Jonn and Ivy—were they safe? Were they fed? I tried to tell myself that Everiss would take care of them, but the thought afforded me little comfort. And Adam was not there to help. Worry twisted in my stomach like a snake.

I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I almost didn’t hear the clip of boots against the floor. Just in time, I dragged the bucket out of the way and pressed my back against the wall as a line of red and black-uniformed individuals rounded the corner, almost at a run. Their faces were the color of whitewash, and their mouths were mashed in thin lines.

Among them, two of the uniformed men half-dragged, half-carried a moaning figure. Perspiration dotted a purple-hued face and saliva streamed from cracked lips. Hands clawed at nothing. I couldn’t even tell if the sufferer was a man or a woman. The figure writhed, panting like an animal. Shivers descended my spine and tingled in my hands. Was it the Sickness?

The group turned another corner and vanished. All that remained was a few drops of spittle on the floor, and the fading outline of footprints in the wet slick on the floor where I’d been mopping.

A knot of foreboding doubled in my chest.

~

That night in the dining hall, a current of unrest simmered in the air. The workers muttered and cast dark glances at each other as they scarfed down their food. The tension in the room slipped into my blood and made my muscles tight. I sat with Claire. She seemed similarly affected; she barely touched her food. We didn’t speak.

Behind us, I heard two workers whispering.

“I heard they brought in a man today. An infected man.”

“He’s under quarantine,” another murmured. “They have it under control.”

“Why did they bring him here? He’s got the Sickness!”

“There’s no proof of that. They’re denying it.”

“No, no, it’s true. Some of the swabbers in the Lab saw them.”

“I don’t believe it.”

I remembered the purple face and strangled cries of the infected person. I shut my eyes and took another bite of my food. Despite my lack of appetite, nourishment was not a thing to squander. There were only five days left until we would jump back to my time, and I needed to absorb every bit of strength that I could from this place while I was here.

When Claire and I left the dining hall and headed to our respective work stations, I saw gray-robed workers climbing from a vehicle at the gate to the town. They wore masks over their noses and mouths, and gloves on their hands. A trickle of something like panic dripped into my stomach, but I shoved the feeling away. There was no time to panic. I couldn’t afford to lose my head now.

The hallways of the Labs buzzed with frantic activity. White-robed professionals whispered in doorways, and workers hurried back and forth with unreadable expressions plastered across their faces. A few swabbers slipped through the confusion, silent as usual. I fiddled with my mop and watched everything from a safe distance, unnoticed and unobserved. When no one was watching me, I set off down one of the halls toward the place where the scientists worked.

I scanned the words on the wall. Signs marked where each scientist’s room was. Finally, I saw Borde’s name. My heart thudded. I glanced around to be sure no one watched, and then I put my finger to the knob. I expected it to be locked, but the door opened.

I slipped inside and left a note on his chair. I didn’t sign it, but I knew he would know I was the one who had left it.

As I left the room, I was almost knocked over. Two red and black-uniformed women clipped past me at a fast rate, and something about their expressions snagged my interest. They were heading for the gate chamber, which was only a few corridors away.

After a moment’s hesitation, I followed. The doors to the gate bay hissed open to admit them, and I slipped inside just before the panels shut again.

The room echoed with bustle. The uniformed women crossed the vast expanse that lay between me and the gate. They did not look back at me. Far away, I could see a few white-coated scientists waiting. One paced, the other stood with his arms crossed and his head tipped to one side. My stomach turned over when I realized it was Doctor Borde, and I took a step back, but he didn’t look in my direction. I was probably too far away for him to even notice me.