LEGACY CHILD

CHAPTER FOUR

It took three days to gather all the dead.

Three days to identify, notify, and make preparations for so many shroudings.

Sixty-eight people had been murdered with hundreds more injured in the worst attack the Crescent had ever seen. Of the dead, twenty-seven were scouts. Their shepherds, if not killed outright, were locked in the breeding pens and sedated as Abriel had instructed. There were eight of them and she made a point of visiting every day. Each time the piteous sight brought her to tears. The shepherds were at turns whiney or violent, and needed the constant supervision of other shepherds to mute their thoughts and avoid mind-crippling anyone within range.

Officially, sorting out the Crescent was the emergency response team's job, as managed by the Minister-general's office, but there was too much work for any single department. Scout and shepherd pairs took the overflow. When she and Keko weren't with the broken shepherds, they surveyed buildings for damage, sorted out food and water rations, reunited loved ones but also broke the awful news that some families would never be together again.

It might not have been so bad if not for people constantly offering their sympathy. They would take her hand or hug her, telling tales of Rex Brighton's heroism, loyalty, strength, and kindness. She hated that. It made her remember what she'd lost when all she wanted was to forget how much it hurt. Not only was her father dead, but so were two members of her squad. Anna and Noel had been tagged when the moleboys swept through one of the Crescent taverns. They'd been enjoying a rare day off, the same as her, but without their shepherds. Both were shot and their shepherds made up part of the group of eight—another reason for her visits.

Perhaps Rowan and Cami, the sixth and seventh members of her squad, were worse off. Rowan's shepherd Masao had been caught while he and Rowan visited Rowan's mother. The scout had escaped, the shepherd hadn't. Rowan crumbled at Masao's death. And shy, pretty Cami—the one person Abriel thought too kindhearted to be a scout. For her trouble, the moleboys raped her. Her shepherd, Rinji, kept them from killing her. Abriel visited both, and while they appreciated her support, she knew they were too broken to expect a quick bounce back.

Only Keko kept her sane. He made sure she ate, rested, and bathed. He herded her like livestock, and she could feel his warm, watchful presence standing guard. And now, the third day, which was supposed to be the first on the long road of getting life back to normal. Except...

Abriel's fingers itched to rip off her shoulder braid and fling it across the room. She padded over to the mirror mounted on her bedroom door to take another look, positive the braid was getting ready to twist itself under her armpit.

"You look fine," Keko sent as he lay on the floor near the door, head on his paws. "The braid is where it should be. It's not going anywhere except maybe up your ass if you don't stop checking. Hurry up or we'll be late."

Abriel stopped pacing and sat on the bed. The room was too small for a decent floor-grooving session anyway. "The ceremony will be starting. I should check in with Turney and Novak. I'm still their Lieutenant, even if I failed the other four."

"You don't want to go, do you?"

"No, I don't. It's my pain. I don't need to parade around and become everyone else's gossip fodder."

"It's about grieving. How it looks shouldn't matter."

"I know, but some people are like that."

She glanced at the bedroom walls, carved from rock and worn smooth with time. Age had settled the stones—short of a massive explosion, the walls wouldn't move.

"Is Boni still here?"

Boni Davenport—her apartment-mate and the closest thing to a sister she would ever have. "No. She went to Medical Intensive to sit with Shafir. She'll see you at the shroudings."