Page 36 of Suncatcher

“A sound woke me. Something not human. A bellowing cry. I looked outside and saw several people running and a huge shape in the sky. They shot at it, then came toward us. That’s when I noticed the water. The locks were open. There’s no way I could’ve closed them myself. But when I got there, the creature was too.”

James swallowed and Sheriff Oak’s expression darkened. “Creature?”

“A gargoyle. That side of the lock was broken but it closed it just with its hands. And helped with mine too, and the rest of the locks. And it closed the lower canal.”

“You’re certain it was closing them and not breaking?”

“Dead certain. As I said, I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself.”

“D’you think it’s the same one who helped during the ambush?” asked someone else. “But why?”

“Where’d the goyle go?” Sheriff Oak demanded.

“I dunno. It just disappeared into the night.”

“Did anyone else see?” Sheriff Oak asked the rest of the room.

“I saw it flying at the start and by the locks with James,” said one of the men. “But we were distracted by this group of bastards.” He gestured toward Ronny.

Pearl watched her mother closely. She remained outwardly calm, but a storm brewed inside that echoed the one beyond the roof above them. Pearl’s own mind whirled listening to the events rehashed again when Rave and Steve showed up.

As they carted Ronny back to town to lock up in the two-cell prison, Pearl went to inspect the fields. The top one was flooded, and the second less so. The easing rain dimpled the surface that reflected the light cast from their hooded lanterns.

But Sheriff Oak’s attention wasn’t on the fields. She scanned the sky and horizon.

“Sheriff?” James repeated when she didn’t answer a question he asked.

“Thanks for your help tonight, James,” she said distractedly. “Get some rest.”

It was nearly dawn by the time Pearl and Sheriff Oak dripped their way home.

Pearl shrugged out of her coat, hanging it in the narrow entry by the door, and headed to the stove. The kettle shook in her numb hands.

“Go change. I’ll do this,” Sheriff Oak said, taking the handle from her.

Pearl stole it back. “So are you. You go change.”

“Pearl.”

Pearl might have been a grown woman, but when her mother used that tone, Pearl listened.

She relinquished the kettle and retreated up the creaking steps. Her mother’s room faced the front of the narrow house to the right. Pearl turned left and entered her own. The soft light of the lamp she lit illuminated the space, shining off the water puddled near her window, where Driz had been earlier.

Pearl frowned. The puddle was darker than it should’ve been. With blood. Had one of the Faltsprings men’s bullets hit her? She’d been injured and Pearl hadn’t known.

Pearl hurried to wipe the floor before it stained the weathered wood more. The thought of Driz’s blood soaking into the boards made Pearl’s stomach cramp.

When she emerged downstairs, dressed in dry clothes and with two blankets, her mother still stood at the stove. Pearl draped the thicker blanket around her shoulders and nudged her into a chair, relieved when the sheriff complied.

Pearl finished making two steaming mugs of tea and added a healthy splash of liquor to both. She sat in the other chair, glancing out the smudged window at the brightening world. She wouldn’t make it in time to see Driz before dawn. Guilt for that slithered through her, but she couldn’t leave right now.

She studied her mother.

“How’d you know to get me tonight?” Sheriff Oak asked.

Pearl’s heart started pounding again. “I thought I saw some commotion.” It was too far to see, and they both knew it.

“Are you lying to me, Pearl?”