Storm of Locusts

Chapter 4

The path we follow is steep and narrow, an animal trail that wanders up the side of the mountain from the lake. It’s peaceful here before the heat of the day’s settled in, the glint of the water visible through the trees every time we hit a curve in the trail. But it’s steep, steeper than it looked from down where we parked the jeep, and twenty minutes in Hastiin and I are huffing under the weight of our body armor and packs. Ben seems none the worse for wear, despite wearing the same heavy flak jacket we are, as she flits up the trail ahead of us and then circles back every few minutes to let us know we’re still on the right track.

“What do you think of her?” Hastiin asks me, lips thrust forward, pointing toward the place Ben disappeared down the trail in front of us.

I turn sharply. Hastiin has never asked me what I thought about anything expect the caliber of ammo he needs to take down a runner from fifty yards away.

“I mean, she’s good, right?” He nods like a proud uncle, which I guess he is. “Yeah, she’s good.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I say, borrowing a curse from Grace Goodacre.

The old mercenary growls at me. “Forget I asked, Hoskie.”

“I will.”

He stiffens, then hurries his gait, moving away from me at apace.

I roll my eyes, but he can’t see it. “Okay, okay,” I say, jogging to catch him. “She seems good. I mean, she found the trail, right?”

He slows a little, allows me to match his stride. “She did. She’s a natural.”

I open my mouth to remind him of her clan powers, but I shut it when I see the look on his face. Why ruin his familial pride with a few pesky supernatural facts?

He coughs. “Promise me something, Hoskie,” he growls. “No. Don’t give me that look. Just promise.”

“I’m listening,”

Something flashes silver on the path ahead, Ben headed back to us. Hastiin sees her too, and his words come out in a fast tumble. “If anything happens to me, you take care of her. She wants to be a Thirsty Boy, but the Boys won’t know what to do with her. She needs another . . . female. You’re a female.”

“Nice of you to notice.”

“I’m not asking you to take her in, but just look out for her. Be a role model.”

“Now I know you’re delusional.”

“C’mon, Hoskie. You’re not that bad. I mean, you did pay me back that money you owed me, and Grandpa Tah thinks you’re okay.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“He understands more than you give him credit for.”

“Whatever. Wait. Is that why you invited me along today? You wanted me to meet Ben?”

He nods.

“Sonofabitch.” So much for some budding friendship. He wants something like everyone else does. I shouldn’t feel that prick of disappointment in my chest, but I do.

“Don’t look so sour,” he says. “I wouldn’t ask you if I did think you were worth—” He cuts off as Ben bounds down the hill to join us.

“Their hideout is just around the next turn,” she announces. “You’ll be able to see the mouth of the cave from there. And there’s someone up there for sure. I saw movement.”

Before either of us can say anything, she pivots on her toes and bounces back the way she came, the white yarn of her tsiiyééł bright in the sun, a glint of silver from her hair clip catching the light.

I blink. How had I not noticed before? How had Hastiin not noticed?

“Ben,” I warn, the dread hitting me fast and hard. I push up the hill behind her, legs turning. But she’s supernaturally light, like the deer clan she draws her power from. She hits the clearing first before I can reach her.

“Your hair clip!” I shout.

“Ben!” Hastiin growls behind me. He must have noticed the silver clip, the same thought hitting him like it did me. “Get down!” he shouts to her. “If you can see them, they can see you!”

Ben skids to a stop. Loose pebbles shake free under her feet. I expect her to backtrack toward us, or at least get down behind the grove of creosote bushes that line the path. But she turns to us, eyes wide with wonder.

“What are you doing?” Hastiin shouts to her in a low whisper. He’s still a good ten feet behind me, his gear rattling as he presses up the mountain.

“Do you hear that?” Ben asks. She turns to us, a beatific look on her face.

Hastiin lets out a string of curses and hustles past me toward his niece. For a moment the only sound is the noise of his shoulder holster, the slap of the knife belt as he passes me.

But I’m stopped dead in my tracks. Because I hear it too.

“It’s music,” Ben says, her voice suffused with awe. “Someone’s singing.”

A sweet chorus, like the best summer day you ever had. Sticky with grape snow cones and staying out too late at the creek with your cousins as the locusts sing their mating songs.

Locusts. My monster instincts scream a warning that shakes through my bones.

“It’s a trap!” I yell. But I’m too late.

I watch helpless as Hastiin reaches for his niece, pulling her to the ground. Just as the arrow that was meant for Ben strikes him. Dead center through his throat.

His eyes bulge in surprise. His mouth opens to speak. But no words come out.

Another arrow. Ripping through his eye.

And Hastiin falls down dead at my feet.