Alyssa Redd's Arc

Chapter 12 of 15

Inside the shelter, Alanna crouched by the stove and pointed at a low shelf. "Storm coming overnight. North wind. You leave at dawn like you said, you'll be wet through in an hour." Alyssa looked at her crocs. At Marla's thin sweater. She had built a ship. She had not built a coat. "Do you have anything to spare," Marla said. "No." Alanna did not look up. "I have what I use. You knew the trade." Alyssa fixed the flue by lamplight. She wedged a slate wedge under the pipe and re-seated the collar. The draft pulled clean. Alanna watched, nodded once, and turned in. Rain started before dawn. Alyssa woke Marla. They stepped out under a sky the color of wet stone. Alanna stood at the tunnel mouth with her arms crossed and did not wave. They walked downhill. The rain went sideways. Alyssa's tank top stuck to her ribs. Marla carried the cylinder inside her sweater. By midday Alyssa could not feel her fingers. They found a hollow log and slept curled under it. Day two, Marla found nuts under a split husk and berries on a low bush. They ate what fit in two hands. Day three, nothing. Day four, Alyssa saw her grandmother walking ahead on the path, then blinked and saw only trees. "Marla," she said. Her tongue felt thick. "I see her too," Marla said. "The bright one." A figure stood between two pines. Pale robes. A crown of light. It did not move the way a person moves. "You are hungry for a name," the figure said. "I am looking for hands that will hold one." Alyssa did not know if the voice was in the trees or in her head. A goat stepped out from behind the figure. Brown and white, with a clean cross patterned into its side. It looked at Alyssa with a steady yellow eye and turned down a path she had not seen. "Follow," the figure said. They followed. Alyssa did not remember choosing. The goat walked ahead, patient, stopping when they fell behind. Marla held Alyssa's wrist so they would not lose each other. The rain thinned. The trees opened. Alyssa's knees gave out on wet moss. Marla dropped beside her. The last thing Alyssa saw was the goat standing at a low stone step, waiting. She woke on a wooden floor. Dry. Warm air. Colored light through a broken window. Marla was breathing next to her. The cylinder lay between them. Above them arched a stone ceiling with a bell rope hanging still. An old chapel. Ivy through the cracks. No road in sight through the doorway. No goat. Alyssa sat up slowly. Her clothes were dry. She did not remember them drying. "We're inside," Marla said. "Yes." "Someone carried us." "Maybe." Alyssa looked at the empty aisle. The storm was behind them. The Bureau did not know this place. Neither did she.