“Brother Aden come by this morning. He said he was there to take breakfast with Daddy, but he was there to look me over. Gossip says, his son Larry is looking for a second wife. Gossip says, Brother Aden wants you’un to marry Ben and me to be affianced to his second son, Larry, Mary’s boy, to cement relations in the Nicholson faction.”
I went cold and still, even as a heated rage flushed through me. Brother Aden was a church elder and Ben’s daddy, and had been a family friend for years. He was older than the hills, and he was important in church hierarchy. Usually he was a progressive sort of man, though he did have two wives of his own, Sister Mary and Sister Erasmus. And Larry had one wife already. Voice steady, I asked, “What do the Nicholson womenfolk say about the gossip?”
“Mama asked me what I thought about Larry. I told her’un he smells like gun oil and spent ammunition. I told her’un I ain’t interested in getting married. She said, ‘Pshaw. All women want to get married. Even Nell. She likes Ben.’” Mud cocked her head at me. “You getting married to Ben? ’Cause if’n you are, I’d rather be Ben’s second wife than Larry’s. We’uns could all live here and be a family together.”
To hide my shock, I spun to the stove and flipped the sandwich. My hands were cold and shaking. I added a log to the firebox and adjusted the dampers to create a faster-burning fire. I turned on the overhead fans to distribute the heat. Keeping busy so I didn’t say any of the awful things that I wanted to.
“You’un’er thinkin’, ain’tcha?”
Face blank, I nodded slowly.
“You’un’s mad, ain’tcha?”
I nodded, the motion jerky. I moved the hot skillet off the hottest part of the stove and put the sandwiches on pretty plates, with roses around the edges. Wiped the skillet. Found some pretty folded napkins in the linen drawer and brought them to the couch. Placed them on the tray. Arranged it all so Mud could reach it. Pulled Leah’s favorite rocking chair over close and sat in it. The choice of chair was subconscious but telling.
Leah had not been entirely truthful to me when she and John had asked me to marry them, but she had been wise in lots of ways I never had been. And... I was twelve when I agreed to marry the Ingrams. That was how I’d always thought of it. That I’d affianced them both, a package deal, to tend to Leah as she died, and to marry John after that.Twelve. The same age as Mud, though I hadn’t had to come to John’s bed until I was fifteen and that had been far too young.
My breath was coming too fast and I felt light-headed. I wanted to sock something. Or shoot something. I folded my hands and studied them as Mud ate. When the tea had steeped enough, I strained and decanted it into her mug and pushed it close to her. “This is a different blend, but it’s good.” I nibbled on my sandwich though I was no longer hungry.
When I thought I could communicate my thoughtswithout screaming, I said, “Last time we talked, two days ago, you said you didn’t want to get married. Didn’t want to have children until after you were twenty-four.”
Mud sipped the tea and made a face that said,Not bad. Her fingers wrapped around the mug for the warmth, the same way I held my own, for the comfort. “I might not have a choice. Life don’t always hand a woman pancakes and blueberries. Sometimes it’s oatmeal and raisins. Or even cold pea soup with grease on top and stale bread. And if’n I got to marry and you’uns gonna marry, I’d rather be here on Soulwood. With you.”
My little sister was wise in the ways of the church. Wise as I had been, when I made a choice for safety. When I chose to marry John and Leah and move here, to avoid a worse fate. I managed a breath and said, “Or you could just come live with me.”
Mud stopped with the mug halfway to her mouth. Her eyes went slowly wide. Her mouth dropped open. The mug tilted, forgotten, and I grabbed it before it spilled. Her eyes were far away, focused on something only she could see. Then they snapped to me. “You’un gonna marry Ben?”
“I admit I like Ben. But there’s problems with Ben. With any churchman.”
“There’s always problems with churchmen.”
“True.” I handed the mug back to her and said, “Don’t spill it. You know how I told you about claiming land?” She nodded. Sipped. “You remember how the church wanted to burn me at the stake?”
Mud went still as dirt and swiveled her eyes up to me. “Yup.”
I took a breath. “Beings who can claim land like I can, like I think you can, aren’t human. And a sizable number of church folk want to burn all nonhumans at the stake. That means you too. Maybe our sisters. Mama and Daddy. Sam.”
Mud sipped. Sipped again. Picked up the sandwich with one hand and slowly ate half of it. Her forehead was scrunched with thought. “Can we kill the witch killers first?”
I thought about that. About feeding the earth with theirblood. Or even sending the vampire tree to kill on church land. No court would ever convict me because no court would understand how I had done it. But more important than getting caught was the morality of not committing murder. “Probably, but I won’t kill unless I’m attacked. Or you or the Nicholsons are attacked.
“I can read the land like... like Daddy can read the Bible. I can commune with it. It can heal me if I’m hurt. Save my life if I’m dying. And if I read the land too long or too deep it grows roots into me as a way of claiming me back.”
Mud’s eyes went so wide I was afraid they’d pop out of her head. I hadn’t told her that part yet.
I held out my hands to show her. “I have to be cut free and that makes the land angry sometimes. And then there’s the foliage that grows out of my fingernails and my hairline.” I touched the nape of my neck, finding a tiny sprig there, curled and twisted, newly sprouted, faster than usual, perhaps as a result of the burning. I pulled my hair aside and showed her the leaf, as if maybe she had forgotten my leaves from last time. I put my hand to my belly, feeling the hardness there, from roots that had grown into me and left their mark. I seldom thought about them, unless reminded. And I decided I had told her enough for now. Roots growing inside me might be too much for my sister.
Mud picked up the stew bowl and started eating, thinking. I waited. Nibbled on my own sandwich, smoothing my pants with my free hand. I was wearing black today, with black office shoes and a black jacket, a soft and flowing navy shirt over a black T-shirt, to protect my skin from the weapons harness. I was thinking of stupid things. My heart was racing and my fingers tingled. I cleared my throat.
“You’un ain’t said exactly. I know we’uns not fairies. Is we’uns plants?” Her voice was calm, not excited or panicked. Calmer than I was.
“No. We bleed blood, not sap. We’re meat. Mostly.”
“Would Ben Aden burn you’un at the stake if’n he found out you’un wasn’t human?”
Aknowingskirled through me like a dancing wind. “I don’t know,” I whispered, accepting fully what I had just said. “Even if he knew what I am and he still wanted me, I’d be putting him in danger to marry him. I’d be putting all my babies in danger. So... No matter how much I might like Ben Aden, I won’t be marrying him.” I placed the sandwich on the plate. It tasted like sawdust. “And ifyouare the same creature asme, then you need protection too.”
As I spoke, tears had gathered in Mud’s eyes. She put the mug on the tray. And threw herself into my arms. Hugging me so tight it was like being strangled by roots. I hugged back. Realized we were both crying. Rocking. She had grown in the last months and weighed more than I anticipated. The chair was moaning beneath us. I stood and lifted Mud and myself to the couch. Grunted more than I expected. I was getting soft working at PsyLED.
