“I’m sorry, Crenshaw.”
“Thank you.”
“What would you like to discuss about the Hornet?”
“I wish to speak to him.” He takes a deep breath. I watch his hands clench on his staff, the knuckles going momentarily white. “I would ask after my daughter.”
He’s right, I assume too much. I did not see that coming. This conversation just got a whole lot of awkward and I’m suddenly wondering where Ryan is. Trent and I are not the right people for this.
“Um, okay. Yeah,” I stumble. “He’s gone now. He went to the northern Colony to take it back.”
“I know that.”
“Oh.”
“I should have spoken to him before he left, but I was hesitant. I waited too long. Now I worry.”
“About your daughter?”
“About time.” He pauses to take another slow breath. When he speaks again, he doesn’t sound exactly like Crazy Crenshaw. He’s that weird mix I get now and then when reality creeps in and you can see the hairline cracks in his world. “I’m an old man. I have seen so many things in my life. I’ve had the great honor to be loved by a beautiful creature of grace and brilliance. She gave her life to give me the greatest gift a man can receive from a woman: a child. But then I lost her too. She was taken from me or she went, it doesn’t matter. She’s gone. Now with the world as it is, with the fighting and the upheaval, who knows if I will ever find her again? I should not have waited. I should have found her ages ago. I should have spoken to the Hornet when I had the chance.”
“Cren, it’s not too late. Vin will still be there when this is done. Trust me, he’s too terrible to die. The devil doesn’t want him.”
He turns to face me. When I see his eyes, I take a step back. They’re hard. Fierce. I’ve only seen him like this once before and that time he pulled a weapon on me. I may not be well educated, but I am a fast learner. I’m not getting stabbed today.
“If you remember anything I’ve ever told you, child, make it this: there is never enough time. You may have years, you may have days. You may have a matter of seconds. No one knows, but no matter how much time you have, you’ll always wish it was more. Do not put off what needs doing.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it urgently. “Leave tomorrow for the cowards. Today you must be fearless.”
Chapter Twenty
My favorite part about the plan for taking the southern Colony is that I’m not in it. Not really. We have over three hundred people here ready and willing to fight to the death to overthrow these pompous, pampered zealots, and we don’t need more than twenty-five of them to lift a finger. The rest of us are here only to make them sweat.
Ryan, Trent, Bray, and Crenshaw are our explosives experts. They’ll work the trebuchet with a team of three other guys from the island who know how to use it. Give them a spot to hit and if it’s in the machine’s range, they’ll nail it. First try. The Vashons don’t play.
Elijah, Andy, and seventeen of their people are going underground. They’ll get inside from the tunnels, somewhere I hope I never have to go again. Each one of them will be packing a bag full of explosives compliments of Cren and his apprentices, and I’m sure every one of them will be sweating bullets the whole way there wondering if they’re jostling that Bag-O-Boom too much. One false move, just a little too much pressure on the wrong spot, and BAM! We’ll remember you fondly. I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful BBQ for your cannibal buddies to doggy bag home.
As the sun begins to set, we light torches up and down the shore. Trent says it’s sort of a filter. Even if we have more light behind the torches, it’ll be hard for the Colonists to see what we’re doing through the glare and smoke of the line of fire near the water. And what we’re doing is nothing. We’re wandering around, we shout to each other now and then. Sometimes a group will be sent running and yelling for no reason, going nowhere. It’s all meant to confuse the Colonists and keep their attention on us. They need to be frantic, on edge, always wondering what we’ll do next or how many of us there are. We don’t want them aware of the moles creeping into their home through their floor or the housewarming gift we’ve brought them that’s slowly making its way down the barricaded street toward the gate. That’ll be a fun surprise for them.
“Athena!” Crenshaw shouts to me from across the camp. “It is time!”
I jog toward him, making sure to keep up my routine of looking busy.
“Time for what?”
Crenshaw’s eyes are bright and wild with excitement. His face is flushed, his mouth pulled taught in a manic grin. He looks the maddest I’ve ever seen him and for some reason, I love it. Crazy suits him.
“Magic,” he whispers dramatically, his eyes going wide.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m not in the magic show, Cren. Alvarez told me it was tunnels or crowd. I chose crowd.”
“A wise choice. The tunnels are fraught with danger. Men will die in there tonight.”
“That’s chilling.”
“I wish you to join me,” he says, falling serious. His smile is gone but the light is still wild in his eyes.
“Why?”
“For protection.”
I fight the urge to sigh. To roll my eyes and tell him I can take care of myself, that I don’t need protection from anyone or anything. It’s Vin pushing me behind him at the first sign of danger. It’s Ryan sleeping between me and doors. How does everyone so easily forget that I lived alone and survived for years without any help from anyone?
No one but Crenshaw.
And that’s how I manage to keep my eyes steady and my breathing even. I remind myself that Crenshaw has always been there for me. He took care of me when I was sick, he gave me medicine when I was hurt, he kept me company when I craved it and let me walk away when I couldn’t handle it anymore. And I didn’t realize it until now, but he let me take care of him too. He took meats from me, he listened when I warned him about outside dangers creeping close. He kept me talking when there was no one to hear me. He saw me when no one else could.
Cren kept me from being a ghost.
He kept me alive.
“All right,” I agree with a smile, trying to bring his smile back. “I’ll stick with you. Thank you for protecting me.”
I don’t understand it when he doesn’t smile like I hoped. In fact, he frowns, his face looking suddenly so long and tired that I worry I’ve made some serious social error. If I have, I have no clue what it was.
“Come,” he says, turning to go and repeating softly, “it is time.”
He leads me through the camp until we stand at its edge underneath the long shadow of the trebuchet. It dances over us as the fire from the torches flickers in the wind. It’s cold here by the water. I pull my coat tighter around myself, my hand accidentally slipping through the rip in the sleeve—the one I got when a wolf nearly took a chunk out of my arm thanks to Ryan.
He’s there on the other side of the machine. He, Trent, Bray, and the Vashons helping them work the thing are standing patiently, watching Crenshaw and I approach. They’re waiting on orders from the wizard.
My wizard.
“Gentleman,” Crenshaw greets them heavily. “Are we ready?”
Ryan bows slightly. “We wait on your signal, Master Crenshaw.”
Cren nods slowly, looking at each of them. I expect him to give a speech or offer some words of wisdom or encouragement—something about courage, bravery, honor, intelligence, peanut butter. Anything. But they get nothing.
“Load it.”
I watch as the guys snap into action. I lock eyes with Ryan for a small second, and while he smiles at me confidently, I feel cold inside. The sick feeling that’s haunted me all day is back with a vengeance, slipping under my skin and chasing away the warm fuzzies I was just feeling a second ago. I don’t know what’s changed. Maybe the wind shifted or I’m registering the magnitude of what’s happening. I don’t know. All I know for sure is that I’m grateful Crenshaw asked me to come here with him.
You cannot be separated , Athena. To succeed you must remain together. It is how I have seen it.