Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [153]
‘Close your mouth, Grayson.’ She laughed, strapping on her sword. ‘It’s nothing you’ve not seen plenty of, with your line of work.’
He stiffened, looking past her to the window. ‘I…’
Can you keep up?
He frowned, realising she’d gone, slipping right past him and out the door, Fynn behind her. He followed, boots clipping over the cobbles. She was stretching in the centre of the plaza, arms high over her head. The grounds were empty, the sunrise turning everything rose-gold. Most of the residents would only just be getting to sleep.
Or trying to sleep.
A voice filled his mind again; her voice, he realised, sweet and warm. Fynn barked, snapping him out of the daydream. ‘How do you do that?’ he asked her.
She laughed. ‘I’m Lupin; you’re receptive. How can I not?’
He shook his head. He was on unfamiliar ground with this young woman. She reminded him of Rosette, and something else he couldn’t quite recall.
And if you’re worried about spies, we best play it safe. We can make out to be heading for the gates, checking the land for damage from that last quake.
‘Quake?’
A sizeable one ripped through here two days ago. Where’ve you been?
He shut his eyes. ‘Elsewhere.’ He cleared his throat, speaking over her head. ‘We’ll check for damage, out to the gates and surrounds.’
And halfway there I’ll switch and run the fence line. Fynn can stick with you. I’ll be waiting at the gates.
‘That’s ambitious.’
That’s Lupin.
She was proud of her heritage and confident in her abilities. He liked it.
‘So many crows,’ he said as they crested the rise, the entrance gates visible on the horizon.
‘They’re seeking refuge.’
‘It must be getting worse out there.’ He shaded his eyes against the sun, straining to see in the distance. The sky was full of ash and the haze prevented any view of life beyond the plains. ‘We’ll need to check on Half Moon Bay. They could need help.’
‘Half Moon Bay isn’t the only other place left on Earth, you know,’ Maluka said. She looked over her shoulder. ‘Cover your eyes.’
He had barely time to shut them before the sand stung his arms and face. When he looked again he saw a rust-brown she wolf running away, her coat turning to gold in the morning light. She shot towards the fence line, dust billowing. Fynn darted after her, spinning back on his heels to stick with Grayson. She must have set him the task—sniff his way to the gates and let them know if he identified an intruder. Grayson walked on, letting his thoughts settle to the bottom of his mind. In the trees the crows rasped their eerie language, joined by the chatter of jay birds and plovers.
Plovers? That’s not right. He squinted at the birds. Some dropped to the ground in front of him, their stilt-like legs pacing in the hot sand, a staccato kerr kick ki blasting from their yellow beaks like miniature horns. ‘What are you doing here, you crazy birds? The ocean’s that way.’
The yellow-wattled plovers were one of the few sea birds that had survived the algal blooms and sea devils. Many were missing a foot or a leg, but they’d migrated to the silt-covered mudflats that spread across the once fertile ground of the San Joaquin Valley. What brought them this far from the coast both baffled and worried him. They best check on Half Moon Bay soon.
He took a swig from his canteen and jogged the rest of the way to the gate, Fynn nose to the ground. When they reached the apple trees, Maluka was back in human form. She was sprawled out beneath the branches, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
‘Have a good run?’
‘I did,’ she said, opening her eyes. She pushed Fynn away when he tried to lick her face. And not unproductive either. The young dog sat at attention.
Grayson picked two apples and handed her one. ‘Let’s hear it.’
She polished the green fruit on her vest and took a bite, the juice running down her chin. He looked away. Too much like Rosette.
She straightened her spine, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘You’ll want to get over that, Grayson.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘I’m Maluka,