Amazon Queen (16 page)

It was, two hours later.

I answered on the third ring. I had the phone in my hand on the first ring, but I waited until two more peals had passed before pushing the button to connect. The call felt more important than it was, I told myself. It was just a call, like a thousand others I had participated in in the past.

The future of the Amazons wasn’t riding on this; my future wasn’t riding on this.

“Zery?”

“Kale?” I asked. I didn’t speak with my contact enough to recognize her voice.

“Away. This is Padia. Why did you call?”

I hesitated. To question her again would be to question her authority, but to not question her . . . it reeked of sheep. Still, breaking one hundred years of training was a hard thing to do in one step. “I wanted to know what we are to do with the baby.”

Her tone sharpened. “Do you have the baby?”

I hesitated. “We captured her from the sons three days ago.”

“Three days?” There was a pause; I could hear her thinking, judging.

“Yes, I called, but no one called back.” I paused. “Where did you say Kale is?”

“Don’t worry about Kale. Give the child to . . . Thea. She knows what to do.”

I stared at the wall. I was sitting in a small sitting room, off the dining area. A fold-out couch was crammed in one corner, a bureau in the other. It was where Bern had slept before I’d left her in Madison.

“I’m queen. I should know what the plan is for the infant.”

There was silence, then . . . “Give the child to Thea.”

There was a spot on the wall. I hadn’t noticed it before even though it looked old and had probably been there for two decades. I stood and placed my palm over it, then pulled my hand back and stared at it again.

“It’s true.” The stain was still there, still as obvious. How had I missed it all this time?

“What, Zery? What’s true?” Padia’s voice had an edge now, held a challenge.

I turned my back on the wall and the stain. “Sorry. I wasn’t talking to you. Someone walked in, asked me a question.”

There was tension on the other end of the line; I could feel it vibrate. “Good. So you understand what you are to do.” Each word was an order: short, terse.

My fingers were tight around the phone; my wrist began to ache from my grip. “I understand.” I understood way too much. “One last question. The council, have they met recently?”

Silence for a second, then . . . “The council isn’t your worry. Giving the infant to Thea is. Tell her to call me, after.”

After.
One word and it was all the answer I needed. More than I wanted to know.

“Zery, the tribe has to stay strong. Don’t question what you don’t understand.”

Be a sheep. That was my job. Being queen had never felt so demeaning.

I knew it was a farce then. That everything, every bit of pride I’d had in my elevated position, was a lie. The son Jack was right. I was nothing . . . not to him, not to anyone. I might as well have been a human in a dead-end job tightening whatever cog I’d been assigned to tighten.

“Zery?”

I snapped out of my daze, but not the fog that now seemed to engulf me. “Yes.”

“I think I need to talk to Thea. Can you get her?”

Of course I could. That was what I did—follow orders. I carried the phone into the yard and handed it to our new high priestess; then I walked into the woods.

I knew Jack was watching. I knew he would find me.

*   *   *

If the son was watching, he didn’t show himself. I wandered along the meandering path for half an hour, waiting. For what, I didn’t know. If he showed, what would I do?

Tell him he was right—the council did plan to kill the baby?

I’d lied to Padia, by omission at least. She thought we had the child. Of course, after she spoke with Thea she would know differently. What was the punishment for a queen who lied to the council?

I had no idea.

Just as I had no idea what I was going to do when I returned to camp and found the Amazons, my Amazons, planning their attack on Mel.

I stopped by the obelisk. Someone had been here recently. There were leaves from a plant I didn’t recognize strewn on the ground. The birders, I assumed. What they had been doing I couldn’t imagine, but it wasn’t important, not right now.

I placed both hands on the cold stone and closed my eyes while I prayed to Artemis. She was a moon goddess, but she didn’t sleep. I had to believe she was near, near enough to guide me.

I needed guidance and I had no one else to go to to find it. At one time I would have gone to Mel, but she had moved on. Yes, she would still talk to me, but she had left the Amazons. What kind of advice could she give me, who couldn’t imagine life without the tribe?

And that I realized was what this was coming down to. Go along with what I knew the council had planned, as I assumed Thea was doing, or walk away and leave my entire life behind.

A pain, worse than any I’d felt in the last few days, shot through me.

Leaving might not have been easy for Mel, but for me? It was unimaginable. It would be easier to pick up a sword and hack off my own arm. That would hurt less.

So I drew on every bit of faith I could muster and let my desperation show . . . bared myself to the goddess I had taken for granted and prayed she’d look in on me now.

Something rustled in the trees. My hands still on the stone, I opened my eyes. A hound sat five feet away at the edge of the forest. Hounds were one of Artemis’s animals, and we had a number of them back at camp.

While I didn’t recognize this one, there were strays in the area—it was how most of the dogs at camp came to us. A year ago I would have had no reason to be wary of the creature, but the sons had changed that. In fact, the son who had killed the teens last fall had shifted into a dog. He’d been in his dog form when he learned my
givnomai
and used it against me.

So I had every reason not to trust this creature, or at best, to brush his appearance aside, but I didn’t.

I took him as a sign, which probably showed how desperate I’d become.

He watched me from the cover of the brambles for a bit, neither nervous nor aggressive. Not even, I realized, curious—more patient. Like he was waiting for me to come to some conclusion or finish what I was doing, but since I was doing nothing, I continued standing there, waiting too.

After a second, he sat.

It was then I started to feel silly. I lowered my hands and took a step toward the creature, still half expecting him to disappear in a puff of smoke before I got too close.

Instead, he whimpered. Another step and I could see him more clearly, more of him. Enough to realize he wasn’t a he at all, but a she, and
she
had recently given birth.

Which made sense. Pregnant dogs, or dogs in heat, are frequently dumped on rural roads by humans too weak to do what needs to be done if they are not prepared to care for the creatures. They let nature take care of the ugly tasks they lacked the guts for.

Disgusted and prepared for the worst . . . to find the bitch had been starved and beaten, I kept my demeanor mild as I continued to approach. I had no food on me, but I hoped presenting a calm energy would gain her trust so I could at least assess her condition.

Before I got close enough to touch her, she stood and turned to move deeper into the woods. I followed. She went off the path. The underbrush was thick. Briars slapped against my legs and what was probably poison ivy tickled my ankles, but for whatever reason it seemed important I continue.

Maybe I just needed it to be important.

Finally, at the base of an oak, she stopped and the whining increased, but this time it wasn’t coming from her. Hidden in a bed of leaves were three tiny bodies. They were white with black spots and speckles and they were squirming. At least two of them were; the third was still, heartbreakingly still.

I dropped onto my knees beside them. Ignoring the two who shoved with their feet and noses for their mother’s attention, I scooped up the third, a boy. He screamed when I did, a horrible shrill peep that made my jaws tighten and my heart leap.

His muzzle was black, like he’d stuck it into something he shouldn’t have, but I knew he hadn’t performed such mischief. He was only hours old and his body was cool . . . almost cold.

I had no idea how to care for the pup, how to save him and, truth be told, no reason to, but suddenly I had to. I pulled up my close-fitting shirt and tucked him inside. With him snuggled against my bare skin, I picked the other two squirming pups up too—one in each hand. Like their brother, the girls screamed, but theirs was more a shriek of outrage than distress. I ignored it and with their mother on my heels, began the trek back to the safe camp.

When I got there I discovered my world had changed for good.

The Amazons were outside
the house, even the hearth-keepers, who had apparently just returned from Madison. The bed of the truck was still loaded with leftover produce and empty boxes. The warriors along with Sare were, as I’d expected, talking with Thea. What I hadn’t expected, however, was how they were sitting . . . cross-legged in a circle . . . or the small fire in the center that someone had started.

The scene brought me to a halt.

It looked casual, but I knew better. Amazons didn’t gather around a fire like that in the middle of the day, not when there was work to be done.

This fire wasn’t casual. It was planned, a formal act by, I guessed, Thea to do something . . . something she obviously didn’t want revealed while I was around.

But I was around now, and I was queen.

Time to act like one and regain my tribe.

As I glanced toward the hearth-keepers, Lao stepped forward and held out both hands. I dropped a puppy into each, then reached inside my shirt for the third. Without comment, the elder hearth-keeper tucked the first two into an empty basket and slipped the third into the top of her shirt, squeezed into her cleavage. Then she nodded toward the circle.

“No good,” she murmured.

As I turned toward the circle, Bern stepped out from behind the truck. She held a staff in each hand. She didn’t say anything, just tossed me one.

I’d asked her to stay in Madison and she’d disobeyed.

She was a bad Amazon, a worse sheep, and an ideal lieutenant.

I tossed the staff to gauge its weight and balance, then approached the rest of my tribe. When they didn’t look up, I knew things were worse than I’d suspected.

I placed the end of my staff into the dirt about an inch from where Thea sat.

With a sigh, she stood. “Zery, I’m glad you are back.” Behind her the circle of Amazons kept their focus on the fire. I shifted my own onto Thea and waited.

She looked calm, sad even, but I knew it was an act. I knew whatever she was about to tell me thrilled her to the core of her manipulative soul. She practically hummed with excitement.

“I’m afraid the high council is concerned with how you have handled their latest assignment.”

I kept my face motionless, outwardly as calm as she and twice as confident, but inside, my heart was thumping.

“They were distressed when I told them you lost the baby that night—”

That night? She had called them that night? Of course, she had her own phone. She could be making more calls than Ma Bell and I would have no idea.

“Then, of course, when you refused to protect the tribe from possible exposure—”

“By sacrificing one of our own?” I let my skepticism show.

“And ran to protect yourself—”

“Protect myself.” I twisted my lips to the side and nodded. Things were beginning to fall into place, Areto’s discomfort when we talked, for one. I exhaled through my nose, my nostrils flaring. Thea’s act would have been comical if I’d had a sense of humor.

“Then being in the same room as the baby and doing nothing . . . ” The priestess shook her head. “How could they overlook that?”

My back stiffened. I replied, my words low and soft, “I didn’t say I was in the same room.”

She tilted her head. “But you were, weren’t you?”

I held her gaze, but my mind was whirling. Had the baby been among those in the plastic seats? Had Mel known that? I smiled. I was lucky she didn’t blast me to little bits.

Thea lowered her head. “Is something funny?”

My smile widened. “Everything. In fact, it’s hysterical.” I was hysterical. I had to be or I wouldn’t be about to say what I was about to say. “We aren’t killing the child. There is no reason to.”

Thea shook her head again, but she didn’t correct my words, didn’t deny that our mission had been to kill the baby. “Zery, the high council has spoken and we have drawn the fire. Now, before witnesses and this ceremonial fire, I revoke your position of Amazon queen.” She took a breath; there was a glimmer in her eye. I had the distinct feeling I was seeing the real Thea for the very first time. Then the glimmer was gone and she was back to her polite facade. She waved her hand toward the group. “You are welcome to stay at the camp, but only if you follow the high council’s directives. I do, however, hope you will stay.”

Oh, yes. I was sure she did.