Vicious Memories

Chapter 15

Dawn the next day slapped me awake.

I woke with my blanket tangled around my body, like an anaconda that had tried to strangle me in the night, and I had to twist and fight to get an arm free. For the span of a dozen heartbeats I forgot who or where I was and sat up in a panic, my neck twinging painfully, the blessed feeling of remembrance making me slump back down.

Box barked at the entrance to the tent where dawn light snuck around the edges of the tarp.

"Relax," I said. "Come here."

He swung brown puppy eyes at me and I patted my lap.

"Hey!" a familiar female voice called from outside. "Are you going to get up, or are you going to keep talking to that dog all morning?"

I stretched my neck, more slowly this time. "Sorry, I was exhausted. How long have you been out there?"

"About two minutes."

"Wait, sorry, who is this?"

The figure outside my tent laughed, giving away its identity. "It's Bev. Get a move on or I'll knock the tent over."

"Oh please, god, no!" I joked, putting my pants on in a crouch. "Not the tent."

I poked Box out of the way, pushed aside the tarp, and stepped out into a village already in full morning swing. The sun was visible beyond the cliff to the east. The sounds of breakfast being served carried through the air - called greetings, the gentle thrum of conversation, the luxurious clatter of plates and silverware.

Bev laughed upon seeing me. She reached up and tried to smooth my hair, pulling her hand back quickly when she couldn't make it lie flat. Box sniffed the grass around her feet.

"And what is this?" she asked.

"This," I said, "is Box. He was hungry and alone and, I think, abandoned by his family."

"He's a runt."

"Excuse me?"

"A runt," she repeated. "As in 'runt of the litter.' He should be twenty pounds heavier already."

"And here I thought Mohammed was the dog expert."

"Nurse," she said, tapping her own chest. "Remember? I help him take care of the dogs sometimes. I'm not a vet, but I do know some things."

I knelt down and scratched Box behind the ears. "She knows some things," I told him, gesturing up at her. Like yesterday, her dirty-blonde hair was set in a long French braid, but today she had changed into jeans and a white long-sleeve.

"There wouldn't happen to be some stockpile of fresh clothes somewhere, would there?" I asked. "I'd like to change before I go looking for Gabriel. I wanted to ask him for a job."

Bev sniffed the air theatrically. "There absolutely is, and I'll have someone show you where to grab a fresh set. You should probably go wash up downstream first. That'll have to be after, though, because Gabriel actually asked to see you already."

"What for?"

"The same reason you wanted to see him. You decide to stay?"

I nodded. Where else was there to go?

There were other things I wanted, too, and the village was the best place to get them. The best place to start figuring out what had happened to my memory. The best place to start making amends, first and foremost by catching a murderer, one who had killed someone I'd cared about.

Bev led me through the central clearing at an angle, her braid swishing like a cat's tail against her back as she walked. Two dozen people moved around here, eating breakfast and walking around, busy worker ants milling about their hill. I caught sight of Finn pulling his hair up into a bun, standing with a group of men carrying nets and fishing poles; Cooper and Alice walked together in sync, her expressionless, him grinning; Mads's voice carried easily over all other sounds, saying, "You better finish it," to a group of three people with full plates.