Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 75 of 150

Ben let the winged creature rest in the dry wash while Millie cooled her ankle in a pool. He counted what he had. A crate. A hurt girl. A creature that could carry but not fly loaded. No map, no courier, no way to reach Eileen before she walked back into the search line. Anita and Justin were somewhere east with the decoy. Amber, Joe, and Lolly had scattered from Paige's cottage two days ago. He had cut every string himself, and now he needed one back. Millie watched him from the pool. "You're chewing your mouth. That means you're thinking too loud." "I need to warn my sister. She's coming back to a road with men on it. She doesn't know they turned." "Send a bird." "I don't have a bird." Millie looked at the creature drinking beside him. Then she looked at Ben like he was slow. "She won't fly with the crate," Millie said. "She'll fly without it. Short hop. Message only. I've done it twice." "Twice." "Both times she came back." Millie shrugged. "That's the part that matters." Ben tore a strip from the inside of his coat. He had no ink. He drew on the cloth with a burnt stick from the wash, pressing hard so the marks held. Three shapes Eileen would know from when they were children. A crooked house. A lynx. An arrow pointing away from the north track. Underneath he scratched one word. TURNED. Millie unbuckled the teal satchel from her shoulder. Orange trim, a bright buckle. She emptied it on a flat stone. Two apples, a folded knife, a comb, a coil of waxed cord. She rolled the cloth tight and slid it into the front pocket. Then she looped the satchel's strap under the creature's chest harness and cinched it. "She'll go where I point," Millie said. "But she needs a face to find. Someone she's seen." "She hasn't seen Eileen." "She's seen you. She'll follow your blood." Millie caught his look. "That's what my gran said. I don't know if it's true. But she found me in a hailstorm once." Ben pricked his thumb on the knife and pressed a red mark to the satchel's flap, beside the small label stitched there. Millie whispered to the creature, one hand under its jaw. She pointed east, back along the ridge line they had crossed. The creature took two running steps and lifted. The wings opened wide and beat once, twice, and it was gone through the pines. The satchel swung under its chest, bright as a signal. Ben sat down on the crate. He had no way to know if it would reach her. He had no way to call it back. He had spent his last messenger on a hope. Millie pulled her boot back on and winced. "Now we wait for something to come back. Or we don't." The wash was quiet. The horn did not sound.