Mother tilted her head. “We?”
I flicked my attention to the dog. His body was rigid, the hair on his back raised. Smart dog.
“They. They aren’t going to war. They can’t seriously be planning on using any of this.”
Mother stared at the dog, with a question in her eyes, then looked back at me. “Probably not, but these weapons represent our past and roles…who gets to help with the investigation, who gets to punish the killer…those things have to be decided on some way. This is what Zery chose.”
“So, whoever doesn’t get her head chopped off gets first pick of the jobs?”
To my surprise, Mother grinned. “It would work.”
Staring at her, I realized she was enjoying herself, coming back to herself. She loved the tribe, loved battling with other warriors. And the weapons shouldn’t have been such a huge shock for me. I’d seen them before. Once a year, during the festival of Charisteria, Amazons staged battles with prizes awarded for the best performance in all traditional skills. I’d even competed myself.
“Charisteria is coming up,” I murmured.
Mother nodded. “Zery is using that. All of these warriors were planning on competing. Zery decided to use that training to keep them busy and to decide who can handle the most responsibility.”
I pressed the pads of my fingers against my eyes. The fact that what Mother said actually made some sense scared me more than the swords clanging around me. Still, I took her candidness as an opportunity. “What kind of ‘investigating’ does Zery have them doing?” My earlier visions of warriors going door to door in Madison returned.
Mother angled a brow. “You know I won’t answer that.”
Bubbe entered the gym from the cafeteria, pulling my attention away from Zery’s plan and Mother’s refusal to tell me about it. My grandmother was dressed in a traditional Russian sarafan complete with intricate embroidery. The long red jumper was worn over a white long-sleeved rubakha. A matching red-and-gold crescent-shaped kokoshnik was perched on her head.
Just like Mother, she was fully back in her element.
Behind me, the dog scratched at the door.
I drew myself up to my full height and squared my shoulders. “Only in the gym-with the doors closed.”
“The spears-” Mother started.
“Are not being tossed around in full view of Monroe Street. Zery will have to figure something else out. She can use javelins or something. Same goes for anything they do outside this building-it has to be modern and one-hundred-percent explainable.”
Mother placed her hands on her hips. I steeled myself for a fight, but she nodded. “That’s reasonable.”
Relief flowing over me, I jerked open the door. The dog bolted out into the growing dusk.
Mother’s voice stopped me from dashing after him. “You know there will need to be trials-outside. You might want to think of something to tell the neighbors.”
I didn’t slam the door when I left the building. My life was a mess, but I knew who to blame: me. For whatever reason, the dead girls had been brought to me. I’d tried to deny my responsibility, but I couldn’t any longer.
The girls, the police, and now the Amazons. All swirling around me. I couldn’t stand back and wait for someone else to fix this. I especially couldn’t wait for Zery’s plan to become apparent. I was going to have to do it myself. Somehow.
I took a deep breath and watched cars speed down Monroe. A calm settled over me. I was going to do this. I was going to stop the killer. But where to start?
I didn’t have to go search for a starting place. It came to me at one in the morning.
I woke to shouts and dogs barking. I jerked open the window closest to my bed and looked out. This gave an unobstructed view of the side of the cafeteria and not much more, but the voices were clear and angry. Leaning out further, I could see flames shooting up from in front of the shop. Dressed in the cotton shorts and T-shirt I’d slept in and not bothering with shoes, I shoved open my back window-the one attached to the old fire escape-and scurried down the cold metal stairs.
All the Amazons were out of the gym and moving toward the fire. I followed.
At the bottom of the hill, about twenty yards from Monroe Street, a huge bonfire crackled and spat. A ring of Amazons stood around it. In the center of their circle, next to the fire, stood Zery, Bubbe, and Mother.
Soaring anger carried me down the hill and into their midst.
“What do you think you are doing? We can’t set a fire in the middle of the city like this.” I glanced around, frantic for something to douse the flames, but in my rush outside I hadn’t thought to grab a fire extinguisher. I yelled at a nearby warrior to go back to the shop and get the one mounted on the brick wall next to the front door.
“And shovels, get shovels.” I babbled out instructions for finding those, only to have the warriors stare at Zery as if I’d said nothing at all.
I bit back a curse, ready to turn on the queen, but she gave a nod and five warriors took up the hill in a run.
Before I could vent my full thoughts on their late-night fire, Zery held up a hand. “We didn’t do this.”
My mouth snapped shut as I glanced at Mother and Bubbe for confirmation.
Bubbe gestured toward the fire. “Devochka moya, the killer has found us.”
Then I focused, really focused, on the scene surrounding the fire. Ten spears protruded from the ground forming a semicircle around the flames.
I frowned. Ten. The number had no significance I could think of. Bubbe stepped toward the first spear and nodded to where the iron head stuck out of the soil.
Traced in the dirt with some kind of powder was an esoteric drawing of a deer. The design was classic Amazon, simple, but elegant, showing just enough of the animal’s definitive characteristics to leave no doubt of what it was-the kind of design preferred for givnomai tattoos because of their smaller size.
I swallowed hard and kept my eyes cast down, away from Bubbe’s prying eyes. I moved to the next spear and the next. In front of each was a drawing: lion, bull, hawk. I listed off the totems one by one-all present and accounted for except for two, the bear and the leopard.
“Two are missing.” Bubbe stared into the fire.
It was an obvious statement, not one I thought needed a reply.
“Do you wonder why?” she asked. The flames crackled, laughing at us.
“I-”
“The dead girls’ totems are missing, but they are not far, I don’t think.” She stepped toward the fire, stuck her hand into the roaring flames and pulled out a glowing metal spearhead. She dropped it on the ground at my feet and reached into the fire again-a second spearhead landed next to my bare toes. “He’s mocking us.”
The warriors arrived then and under Zery’s command began dousing the flames. Within seconds nothing but a smoldering pile of wood remained. Not having the same level of control my grandmother had over fire, I was forced to wait, to contain my nervous energy. As soon as the heat had died down enough that I could stand next to it without gaining a permanent sunburn, I grabbed the closest spear and began shoving ash to the side.
The white outlines of two beasts slowly emerged-a leopard and a bear. I plunged the spear back into the ground. Cursed and walked away.
Another message. Saying what? That the killer was targeting all of the clans?
“Did you do this?” Zery’s voice was low, controlled, barely hiding an anger that rivaled my own.
I turned on her. I was tired of her accusations and angry enough to challenge her to a fight right there. I held her gaze. What I saw in hers calmed me. She was as filled with rage as I was, but it wasn’t directed at me. She didn’t really believe I was the killer, probably never had.