The Mountain Ch. 11

"What are you doing here?"

"Missing everything to act as your keeper," said Persephone.

"What everything?" asked Lucy.

Persephone scowled. Despite the difficulties between her and Warder, Lucy suspected that Perspehone wished to be in the same location as her mate. The idea should make her angry, but at least Perspehone's devotion was familiar.

"I am allowed to go anywhere I want," said Lucy. "Seastone said so. If you're missing something exciting, by all means, allow me to accompany you."

Lucy could see the emotions warring on Persephone's face. The woman did not share the laconic stoicism of her fellow warriors. Everything she thought was written clearly on her face. Now, her desire to do as she wished warred with her dislike of acceding to Lucy's suggestion.

"If you cause a problem, we will have to leave," said Persephone. "Seastone would not argue with that."

"Of course not," said Lucy. "But when have I ever caused a problem?"

Persephone scoffed and Lucy smiled sweetly.

To Lucy's surprise, Persephone led their small group towards the school. For the first year, the islanders had worked to keep the school open. However, the small classes and lack of resources had made the experience less than productive. Today, parents taught their children at home the best they could, gathering now and then in small groups at the library or other locations to share tutoring between families. The school was rarely used because the large space was difficult to cool and heat. The air inside the front doors still held the stale, unused smell of a place long closed up. Beyond that, it was hard to believe it had ever been empty. Warriors marched up and down the corridors completing some kind of exercise. Some classroom doors stood open while others were closed on small groups engaged in intense discussion.

Lucy hugged the wall as she followed Persephone. She was too proud to ask the woman to slow down, but her knee was already sore. Placing one palm against the cinderblock helped her to distribute her weight more evenly.

"Do you need to rest?" This from the male guard in their party. He had never been introduced, but Lucy has heard another guard refer to him as Damien.

"No. Thank you," said Lucy. "I'll sit down when we get there."

Lucy felt certain they weren't far. She could hear the familiar squeak of shoes against linoleum and raised voices from down the hall. Whatever Persephone didn't want to miss seemed to be happening in the cafeteria.

Charts and maps were pasted to the walls. Tables set alongside the far wall were heaped with food. The room was full of Sylphen, but they were settled in small, serious groups, all clearly focused on some task. Lucy didn't have to look very hard to find Warder. The smaller groups of Sylphen seemed to flow around him, aware of his movements through the room like he was the star they centered on. Cenia and Rader trailed him and when they passed so close, Lucy could feel the air shift in their wake, only Cenia offered her the acknowledgement of a small, friendly smile.

They joined one of the other groups, and after a moment of listening quietly, Warder began to give orders. Lucy listened as the warriors reported back to him. They slipped in and out of the Sylphen tongue. Warder seemed completely unaware of her. He looked distant. Unfamiliar. Bronzed skin under the Sylphen armor. His hair tied back again when so often she had seen it loose.

"They won't hide," Warder said, and she almost jumped at the sound of his voice. "They will not feel they have any reason to hide."

"We will know as soon as their boats can be sighted. If it's clear."

"If the fog does not burn off, it could be much less. Especially at night," Rader said, focusing his mention on the map.

"Every lookout reduces our numbers at the landing site."

Warder nodded grimly. "It is worth having lower numbers on shore to have an opportunity to prepare."

"There will be casualties," Rader said.

They were talking about the Sylphen who lived outside the island. Warder's father. More Sylphen who would not be willing to negotiate like their "peaceful" counterparts.

"In any event," said Warder. "Our goal is to minimize losses."

Losses. Her people, or Warder's.

"Use humans as lookouts" said Lucy, forgetting that she had not been part of the conversation. "I can get some people to do it. They can retreat to safety as soon as they've sounded the alarm."

The group fell silent, looking at her. Persephone hissed through her teeth and grabbed Lucy's arm. Lucy shook her off and refused to quail at the sight of so many Sylphen warriors staring down at her.

"Your people do not believe in the threat," said Warder, his face betraying nothing.

Her people. She heard the distinction for what it was. A further separation between them. An accusation. After he had reminded her, so many times, that she was his.

"Many of them don't, but some will believe it if you let them hear the transmission from outside. Even a few could make the difference and save lives."

"Human eyesight and hearing is not as developed as that of the Sylphen," said Warder.

"Use humans when it's clear, then," said Lucy. "During daylight hours. It will still make a difference."

The rest of the group had fallen silent as Lucy and Warder spoke. Their voices were not raised. There was no hint of emotion on Warder's face to betray that they were already at odds. But the air was charged with tension and Lucy noticed that several of the Sylphen were uncharacteristically restless, picking at their outfits or shifting their feet.

"It is a risk," said Warder. "Even if they mean to help, fear might cause them to flee. A Sylphen scouting party is something humans will find...intimidating."

Lucy suppressed a shiver. Of course, Sylphen warriors were intimidating. But humans were not weak. Warder could not be allowed to believe that they were. She took a step towards him, tilted her head up to look him in the eye instead of speaking to his broad chest. "That's one thing we've got going for us," she said, determined not to show even the smallest hint of uncertainty. "The humans here have seen your people in warrior mode and survived it. We're a tougher species than you think."

There was a long silence. Lucy resisted the urge to look away again, watching Warder's eyes in case they might give even the smallest sense of what he was thinking.

"Fine," Warder said finally. "Human sentries if you can rally them. A dozen. We will position Sylphen warriors within a reasonable distance to the human lookouts."

"Babysitters?" Lucy challenged.

"Additional sentries to provide support in the event that they approach from an unplanned vantage. Persephone will report to Rader when you identify the human volunteers. If they do not come forward before the next sunrise, we will proceed as originally planned."

"Okay," said Lucy, trying not to look as rejected as she felt at being asked to report through multiple chains of command. "I'll get you some names."

Cenia was giving her an odd look from across the table of maps. Warder dismissed the meeting and immediately huddled with Rader and a few other warriors Lucy did not recognize, far enough away that Lucy could no longer hear their discussion.

Persephone rounded on her, her face anguished. "You can't ever shut up," she accused.

"Why should I when every one of you treats humans like inconvenient pets?"

"Incredibly inconvenient," said Persephone, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Mmm," said Lucy, suddenly too tired to rise to argue further, and keenly aware that to refuse to rise to the task would be equally infuriating to Persephone. "Is there somewhere I can sit?"

Persephone led her to a chair and then marched several yards away before turning around to stare at her, obviously unwilling to have her guardianship questioned. The other two warriors also kept a slight distance, their gaze traveling the room. Either they were scanning for threats, or seeking information about the many more interesting things going on around them outside their guard duty. As it was, it hardly mattered. The room was full of Sylphen who were loyal to Warder. Lucy was in no immediate physical danger, even if her mate despised her.

Lucy jumped when she felt a touch at her elbow.

"It's me," said Cenia. "Are you all right?"

Lucy shrugged. "Only a little tired."

Cenia furrowed her brow. "It is tiring, preparing for war. Would you like me to bring you something to eat or drink?"

"You don't need to wait on me," said Lucy. Perhaps there was more annoyance in her voice than she intended, because Cenia winced slightly.

"I have an ulterior motive," said Cenia. "I want to tell you something. But you're going to get angry with me. And you're already angry. So I offered food. Warder said that sometimes works."

Self conscious, Lucy unclenched her fists. She forced herself to ignore the information that Warder had shared his "human handling" tactics with Cenia. She wondered if he'd commented on anything else that "worked."

"I'm not particularly angry," she said. "What makes you say that?"

"We're both omega. And humans tend to project everything they're feeling."

"Do we?"

"More than Sylphen," said Cenia. "It's a lot of information to give away for free."

"I'll try to remember that," Lucy said tiredly. "Human emotions tend to improve with regular access to coffee."

Cenia brightened. "Oh, really? I didn't know. We have that! Wait." The woman hurried away, her stride all warrior mode instead of the loose, leaping gait she sometimes displayed when she was at ease.

She was back in under two minutes carrying a paper cup and looking very pleased with herself. The brew was black and Lucy idly wondered if the Sylphen didn't take coffee with cream. Then, she took a sip. The coffee had so much sugar dissolved in it that the drink felt grainy on her tongue. She suppressed a shudder and smiled weakly at Cenia. "Thank you. Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

Cenia raised an eyebrow. "Does it work that quickly?" she asked, looking at the coffee.

Lucy smiled for real. "No. But we humans can control our emotions a little bit. Whatever it is, I am sure you're trying to be helpful."

Cenia nodded. "Yes," said Cenia. "Because--well, you don't know very much about us."

"That's definitely true," said Lucy. She knew Warder...intimately. But she knew little about the world she had stumbled into. Less, it seemed, every day.

"You should not speak that way to Warder in public," said Cenia, the words tumbling out in a rush. "If there is mistrust between you and Warder, it's better for the other warriors not to know."

"What do you mean?" asked Lucy. "You really think you could see all that in my face?" Even if there were differences in their emotional landscape, she didn't like the idea that the Sylphen could read the unrest between her and Warder so clearly.

"You were angry when Warder questioned the idea of the human sentries."

"He was implying that humans are weak."

"He would not be such a good leader if he did not speak what he thinks is true," said Cenia.

"Cenia, I know you're trying to help..."

Cenia looked sad. "I am," she said. "What I am saying is...it's better if you don't question Warder in front of the others. Not because you can't. But because to do it so openly--it's very unsettling for us to see that. There is no greater insult in our world than the censure of one's mate."

"Everyone must know that Warder is avoiding me," said Lucy darkly. "Isn't that an insult?"

"No one knows that except his inner circle and his private guard," said Cenia.

And there was the truth. Warder was avoiding her, even if he kept it secret. He regretted what he had chosen for both of them.

#

Persephone and Lucy spent the rest of the day visiting various islanders who Lucy felt confident could be trusted to stand as lookouts. Lucy sent one of her guards to retrieve a radio from Ioanni's workshop so that she could play the transmission from the mainland. She was slightly surprised when asking the silent woman to do so actually worked. She only hesitated long enough to call on another guard to take her place. This man, Lucy recognized, too, but she had never heard his name.

Warder's personal guard, as Cenia had said, were the ones being forced to trail her every movement.

Some of the requests to the islanders went smoothly. Lucy didn't have to play the transmission to convince them, only to reassure them after they quickly pledged to aid in the effort. Others were less trusting. She had felt certain that her neighbors, Peter and Claude, would believe her if she explained the story honestly. Her tale, strange as it was, provided some context for the takeover of the island by the Sylphen, refugees from a larger war. Instead, they listened gravely while she explained and then talked to her about the trauma she had experienced inside the mountain and the fact that she had likely been brainwashed into believing her captors.

"It's Stockholm Syndrome, Lucy," said Claude, gently squeezing her arm while shooting worried looks at his husband. "You can't believe this wild story."

"I do," said Lucy. "And I have to go find others who will help if you won't."

Slowly, she did find them. While she was speaking with the island doctor, Sheera found her and volunteered.

"I heard you've been asking. I want to help."

"Warder doesn't trust you," Lucy said. Her friend felt like a stranger. How had she never noticed what was different about Sheera? She had always been strong. Decisive. A little too bold and bright. But a child of another world? They had grown up together. They had fought over the last slice of birthday cake and chopped each other's hair up over their ears with her mother's kitchen scissors. They had shared every secret, or so she had believed.

"I brought him to find you when you were in danger," said Sheera. "That should count for something."

"It was your father who put me in danger," said Lucy. "Because I didn't know the truth about you."

Sheera's face went white and she pursed her lips. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again. Then, with an infuriating air of someone exercising extreme patience, she spoke: "Warder is not going to leave anyone you choose alone as a lookout without supervision," said Sheera. "My hearing and eyesight are better than...than others. Like them. I can help. And I won't be able to do anything without one of them knowing."

So Lucy added her name to her mental list.

When she was at ten volunteers, she agonized over asking one of her parents. They would help because she asked, but they wouldn't let her know if they truly believed or not and it would be too dangerous for anyone to participate who didn't realize the threat. She knew, deep down, she might simply be unwilling to risk them when she was already risking so much. She was still undecided, standing in the square running over a mental map of the village and others who she could add to her roster, when Ms. Monroe waved her over from her cozy front porch.

"I hear you're looking for humans to help those nice warriors protect the island," said Mrs. Monroe. "I want in."

#

After spending the day walking all over the village, her knee was aching. The urgency of convincing some of the islanders to stand against the outside threat had propelled her through the day at an untenable speed. Now, she was paying for it, walking slowly and taking care not to limp.

She had dictated her list of volunteers to Persephone who had rushed off to find Rader. Lucy felt rather certain that Persephone was hurrying because she thought Warder would reject the list. But each name on it was solid. She was confident that the people she had gathered would do what they could to help keep the island safe.

Still, she felt nervous as she waited for Persephone to return. She wanted a full report. Wanted to know if Persephone had seen Warder as well as his second-in-command. Her room had been cleaned while she was out that day. The chair had been draped in dirty clothes, but they were gone and she knew that clean things would be found in the dresser drawers. Carefully, she lifted her aching leg onto the empty chair, trying to gently stretch her knee. She had done more walking today than on any other day since her injury. Seastone was correct. Things weren't entirely healed. She wondered if she would feel this aching, persistent pain for the rest of her life. It could happen if things healed wrong. How much did the Sylphen really know about the ways that human bodies differed from their own?

According to Seastone, the cure was for Warder to cuddle her.

Not exactly modern medicine.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and removed her leg from the chair as quickly as she could, hissing as her swollen knee protested. She wouldn't let Persephone see her struggle if she could help it. The door to the room opened and Lucy tried to look less eager.

"Did you...."

She trailed off as Warder stepped into the room. It was as if all the air rushed out to make space for him. "You pushed for the right to assist us," said Warder. "And then you offer me that list."

"Everyone on that list is perfectly capable of helping," said Lucy, immediately indignant on behalf of her friends. "You insist on believing humans to be weak."

"I insist on my orders being followed in matters of war," said Warder. "You tell me you've completed your task, but your own name is on the list."

Lucy hadn't expected that would cause such a strong reaction. "You would have me ask my friends to put themselves in danger but avoid the same for myself?"

"I need volunteers capable of the mission," said Warder. "You are injured."

"I was," Lucy snapped. "I'm fine now."

"Truly? Then run back and forth in the hall," said Warder, gesturing behind him.

"I'm not going to perform tricks for your amusement."

Warder's nostrils flared slightly, the only hint that he was struggling to master his anger. Even at their worst, Lucy had never feared that Warder would truly hurt her. The ways in which he treated her gently were what was most likely to break her. But since that day in Ioanni's workshop, he had become increasingly strange. Distant and frightening. She should try to pacify him. To make herself small, like those early days inside the mountain. But to do so felt as impossible as he was.

"No tricks, then," said Warder. "Simply walk across the room to me without favoring that knee."

Definitely a trick. Because, like much of what was between them, the walk a few yards across the room might as well be a chasm. "It will be nearly this short a distance to run to where I can be heard by one of your warriors," said Lucy. "I'll be able to do it if I need to sound the alarm."

"I have no use for warriors who refuse to accept their own weaknesses."

"You're being unfair so that you can reject my help."

"I am being Alpha," said Warder. "Because that is who you need me to be if any of your islanders are going to survive."

"I can walk." said Lucy.

"Come here."

Propelled by anger, Lucy made it halfway across the room before the pain sliced through her leg. She bit her lip and stopped, looking at Warder. He looked grim, almost as if he took no pleasure in it.

"As I said."

Lucy took a deep breath, shifting her weight away from the injured knee since she had already failed Warder's test. "Seastone explained to me why it isn't better," she said. "She says you're new at being mated and you don't know what you're supposed to do." She was aware that the critique made Warder sound like an untried boy, but she pretended that the judgment was completely innocent. Seastone has an air of wisdom about her that suggested she probably saw most people as recalcitrant children. "She says that if you'd hold me and comfort me, I would heal. Of course, she just thinks you're busy planning for an invasion," Lucy added thoughtfully. "I don't think even she realizes that you're actively avoiding me."