Balor…

Balor turned the car into the small private airport his family favored. He’d sent alerts to the pilots that they were going to be leaving immediately instead of in the morning. He pulled up next to their plane. The fact that they were preparing her to go, pleased him. Sam had kept a constant stream of nonsense going in the backseat. An excited stream of conscious about their future poured over the stunned and silent Remmy.

Relieved to be back in the pleasurable hands of efficient staff and longing for silence after the forty minute drive, he swung out of the car, still high on adrenaline from the night.

He wasn’t surprised to see Paul. He offered his hand to the pilot and the man didn’t take it. Brow furrowed, Balor adjusted his posture and lifted his chest. “Something wrong? Are we being delayed?”

“No, Sir. The plane is scheduled to leave as soon as our flight plan is locked in.”

“Wonderful.” He lifted his shoulders and turned his hands palm up. “You are in luck. We didn’t bother to bring any luggage.”

“Sir.” The man couldn’t meet his gaze. “You won’t be getting on the plane. Your father has instructed me to leave here without a passenger load.”

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Since when?”

“Since we got the call ten minutes ago.” He adjusted the cuff on his jacket, “He mentioned he might have had some trouble making contact with you Sir.” The complete lack of eye contact made Balor bristle. “He mentioned something about a property and arson Sir.”

Balor stiffened. “I plan to speak to him about that in person.”

The pilot cleared his throat, and awkwardly said, “I’m supposed to tell you.” He coughed into his hand. “That he doesn’t care if you have to take a greyhound to get home.”

Balor laughed. “So, he is angry.”

“I would say so, yes. I’m sorry that we can’t take you home this time Sir.”

“How much?”

“I can’t, Sir. I could lose my license.”

“How … Much…”

…

Jeremiah…

Jeremiah was keeping his speed close to the limit. The number of kids they had packed in the van, at a minimum, was one law they were breaking. David was in the back, teaching the kids a bear traveling song. They were learning fast, and every round lightened their mood. Holly sat next to him in the passengers side. Margaret had asked to drive, but David had headed her off toward the back of the van. David had told her, “Maybe after your I.D. isn’t a fake that says you are 32.” The pixie stuck her tongue out at him.

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Knees drawn up, the young leader had said very little.

“Do you have a plan?”

She tapped her knee with her fingertips. “Not exactly.” She gave a non committal shrug. “Bree is certain that she has to speak to the mountain.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and then blinked. She looked tired, curled in the passenger seat with her back against the locked van door. “Me, personally. I’d like a bath.”

“We could stop somewhere and rest.”

“Not if we actually want to make it to the mountain.”

“You think they will come for you.”

“They have to. We are underage, and from their perspective we have gone rogue.”

She smiled then. “Our parents do love us.”

“Then why did we steal this van.”

She laughed then, and the sound had a bell like quality that surprised him.

“I’ve noticed that you watch people, you listen.” She tilted her head, “Tell me what you have noticed about Bree.”

He looked in the rear view mirror and leaned left until he saw her in the reflection, quiet amidst the singers.

“You protect her.”

“That’s what you’ve noticed about me.”

The girl was quiet and kept to herself. He’d noticed that the others were protective of her. “I’ve noticed that all of you push her toward the back when you interact with the upper ups.”

“That’s true. I try to lessen her viability.”

“Why?”

“You tell me. Watcher.” She smiled at him then.

“She doesn’t’ sleep well. I’ve noticed her laying awake, staring at the stars.”

“She listens to them.” When a burst of laughter started in the back, her face softened. David had started teaching them a new Bear song, this time a bawdy one. “I like your ring brother.”

“I do to.” He smiled at her deflection, “I don’t distract that easily. Why would anyone care that she pays attention to the stars.”

She sat up a little, “Are you saying that Bears commonly talk to the stars?”

“I mean, some people pray to them. Or plead with them.”

“And they receive answers?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Bree does. They come to her in dreams.”

“Are you telling me that scrawny little kid is a seer?”

“That or she is completely nuts.” She looked back over her seat and joined in a line of the silly song. Jeremiah hid the grin that rose. He and Red had loved singing that one in the back yard away from their mother’s ears. When she was done, “he quietly asked.”

“And why not talk to your elders? What do you think the mountain will offer you.”

“They know the east coast better, and there is a rumor that there is another seer in the south.”

“A bear.”

She laughed then, “No.” She shrugged and turned her face toward the windward. “My people joke about yours being in hibernation.” She rested her forehead on the glass and pretended to fake snore. She peeped at him with one eye. “They say you are all drugged. You can’t change. And you are dying out.”

He watched the glossy road, listening to her, snaking glances. “They lied to us. Or they just don’t know. I haven’t figured out which it is.”

She dampened her lips, “I was thinking, if you still change, if you still reproduce, if you aren’t dying out…. Maybe someone on that mountain is listening to the stars too.” She glanced back again. “Bree is scared.”

“Why? What is she hearing?”

“It’s not what she is hearing.” She tapped her knee again. “Do you know what wolves do with seers?”

“No.”

“They put them in deep holes in the ground. It’s the way it has always been dealt with since the days of Delphi oracles. Often they are blinded. They spend their brief terrifying lives answering the questions of the wealthy and powerful. But no one listens to them, not really. And what they say rarely makes sense. It is a horrifying jail.”

Jeremiah gripped the steering wheel as a flash of the darkness of a childhood closet surrounded him in a memory. His stomach remembering the starving dark hours.

“What Bree says makes sense. I think, like what they say about bears. They tell us what they want us to believe.”

“And What does she say?”

“They are coming. The stars whisper to her that they are on their way.”

“And Jeremiah…”

“She doesn’t think they will like what they find when they get here.”