The Cydonian Pyramid (16 page)

She wondered how long it would be before the first Pure Girl was sacrificed.

The next morning, when Lia came down to breakfast, she found a bright-yellow T-shirt draped over the back of her chair. he is coming! was imprinted on the front. On the back was a black pyramid with a flattened top and
The Lambs of September
written in script beneath its base. It was an extra-small. She looked at Maria.

“Ronnie left that for you,” Maria said.

Lia folded the T-shirt and set it on the table beside her oatmeal. When she had finished eating, she left it there while she went out to feed the calves. Ronnie, toting a pair of canisters to the milking barn, spotted her and shouted, “Hey, how come you’re not wearing your new shirt?”

“It’s too small,” Lia said.

“It’d look good on you.” He stared at her chest.

“I do not wish to be a Lamb,” she said.

“Really? I figured it was right up your alley, with you not liking numbers and such. I’m joining up myself.”

“You?”

“Why not? Father September does miracles. Seriously. I saw him make this crippled old lady dance. Why don’t you come to a meeting with me? It would be fun.”

“No, thank you.” Lia resumed walking toward the calf barn.

Ronnie called after her, “What do you have against the Lambs?”

Lia ignored him. She was afraid that if she said anything more he would see her fear. That was another thing Yar Song had taught her:
Never let them know you are afraid.
She paused in the doorway to the calf barn and looked back to make sure he wasn’t following her, but Ronnie had picked up his canisters and was carrying them toward the milking barn.

After feeding the calves, Lia left the barn by the back door so that no one would see her. She cut through the alfalfa field to the road. Hearing a feline chirp, she looked back. Bounce had followed her. She picked him up and draped him across her shoulders, where he rode contentedly until they reached the Feye house.

The house was still vacant. There was no Gate. Maybe it would never come. She set Bounce on the ground and sat in the shade of a crab-apple tree. The buzz of cicadas filled the air. She closed her eyes and tried to think, but the buzzing drilled into her ears and filled her head with static. After a time, she became aware of another sound — a low hum. She opened her eyes and looked up at the roof. A fuzzy patch of air had formed above the peak. As she watched, it coalesced into a disk. Lia jumped up and ran to the ladder. By the time she reached the top, the Gate’s edges had become crisp and distinct. Lia could not be sure that the Gate led to Romelas, and even if it did, she might not be welcome. There was only one way to know. She took a deep breath and moved toward it.

Bounce yowled.

Startled, Lia looked down. The cat was sitting at the bottom of the ladder, looking up at her. She couldn’t leave him behind. The Gate sputtered and hummed. A Klaatu emerged, then another, and yet another. Lia scrambled down the ladder. Bounce, alarmed by her haste, or perhaps by the hovering Klaatu, ran into the bushes by the garage.

“Bounce, come!” Lia said.

Reluctantly, the cat emerged from the bushes. She picked him up. Hugging him to her chest with one arm, Lia climbed back onto the roof. The Klaatu were streaming back into the Gate. Lia attempted to follow, but there was a soft pop, and the Gate was gone.

Lia sank to the roof ridge and stared at the empty space, feeling both a sense of loss, and of relief. After a time, she climbed down and returned the ladder to the garage. Her fate was postponed, but the Gate would come again. She would visit the Feye house every day until it did, and on that day, she would not hesitate.

M
ARIA WAS WORKING IN HER FLOWER GARDEN WHEN
Lia got home. Arnold sat scowling on the porch swing, brooding over all the things that needed doing — things he could not do himself. Ronnie’s truck was parked in the shade of the basswood tree, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Lia walked out behind the calf barn to see if there were any raspberries ready for picking. Only a few. She picked and ate the reddest and sweetest of them. Bounce meowed and bumped her ankle.

“You don’t like raspberries,” Lia said.

He meowed again, looking hungrily at the red berry in her hand. She held it out to him. He accepted it delicately, set it on the ground, licked it once, and batted it with his paw.

“Told you so,” Lia said.

Bounce hissed and backed away.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!” Lia said, surprised by the vehemence of Bounce’s reaction.

“Cat’s got an attitude.”

Lia whirled, startled to hear Ronnie’s voice so close. He was sitting on the ground, his back against the barn. In his hand was a white and blue can.
Colt .45
— the number beer.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“I’m not scared.”

“You’re talking friendlier lately. Not so stiff.”

Maybe learning to slide words together wasn’t such a good idea, Lia thought.

“C’mere.” Ronnie patted the ground next to him with his free hand. “Sit with me.”

“No, thank you.”

Ronnie made a
pfft
sound with his lips. “I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just want to talk.”

“I can hear you from here.”

“You’re a pretty girl.”

“Thank you.”

“You ever been kissed? By a man?”

“I do not wish to be kissed.”

“You might like it.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You want a beer?” He took a swallow. “It’s good. Help you relax a little.”

“No, thank you.” She began to walk away.

“Where you going?” Ronnie climbed to his feet, supporting himself with one hand on the barn.

“You are drunk,” Lia said.

“You ain’t gonna make this easy, are you?” he said, coming toward her.

Lia turned to face him. She spread her feet apart, slightly wider than her shoulders, and found her center, hearing Yar Song’s voice:
You are a projection of that upon which you stand, immovable and entire.
Lia could feel the power of the earth anchoring her. She saw his hand reach for her, as if in slow motion. She turned slightly, and instead of grabbing her shoulder as he had intended, Ronnie’s hand slid past her. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Slippery little thing . . .”

She stepped back and to the side, out of his reach. Ronnie spread his arms and came at her again, trying to trap her against the side of the barn. Lia attempted to duck under his arm, but Ronnie was faster this time. His left hand clamped around her wrist.

“Gotcha!”

She twisted her arm toward his thumb, the weak point in his grip, and broke free.

“I do not wish to fight you,” she said, backing away along the row of raspberry bushes.

Ronnie laughed. “Then don’t.” He came after her. Lia thought she could outrun him, but she wasn’t sure, so she stopped and centered herself again. This time, when his hands came at her, she stepped into him and drove her right fist into his sternum, hard, harder than she had struck anything, ever. The sound was that of wood striking wood; Ronnie’s face went slack, and his arms fell away.

Do not stop when the advantage is yours,
Yar Song had told her.

She struck him again in the same place, then followed it with a kick to his groin and a sharp-knuckled punch to each side of his throat. The blows came faster than hands could clap. Ronnie made a sound very much like the moan that cow had made when he had punched it. He dropped to his knees, wavered, then fell forward onto his face and lay as if dead. Lia stood over him, her body buzzing with adrenaline, her heart beating rapidly. She didn’t think she had crushed his trachea, but she had certainly bruised it.

She bent over him and held her hand near his mouth. Warm, moist air curled around her fingers. She jerked her hand away and walked backward until she reached the corner of the barn, then turned and crossed the yard to the flower garden, where Maria was transplanting a row of peonies.

“Lahlia. Where have you been?” Maria asked.

“Nowhere,” Lia said. She set about weeding between the daylilies, her hands shaking.

“Have you seen Ronnie?”

Lia was considering her reply when Ronnie appeared around the corner of the calf barn. Maria set down her trowel and watched him proceed slowly toward the house.

“I wonder why he’s walking so oddly,” Maria said.

R
ONNIE GOT UP THE NEXT MORNING AND WENT ABOUT
his chores. When he said good morning, Lia noticed nothing different in his voice other than a residual hoarseness. Still, there was something new in his eyes — a mixture of animal fear and primordial hatred that caused her insides to go cold.

For the next several days, Lia stayed close to Maria or Arnold when Ronnie was around. She continued to make the long walk to the Feye house every day, but waited until Ronnie went to town in the evenings. Although the Gate did not return, she could sense it there, waiting.

One day she ran out to the road, chasing after Bounce, who had dashed off in pursuit of a rabbit. Ronnie, returning in his pickup from some errand, saw her and stopped at the head of the driveway. Lia watched warily as he rolled down his window. If he opened the door, she decided, she would make a dash for the house. But Ronnie showed no inclination to get out of his truck.

“Nice shirt,” he said.

Lia was wearing a T-shirt that Ronnie had bought for her in happier days, shortly after he had come to live at the farm. Printed on the front of the shirt was a skull with the words
Eat Vegan or Die.
Lia had liked the shirt, though she now understood that Ronnie’s intent had been to irritate Arnold. She wished she had worn something else.

“It is just a shirt,” Lia said.

“I suppose you think you’re really something,” Ronnie said. “Kicking a guy in the nuts.”

“I did not want to hurt you,” Lia said.

Ronnie grunted. He sounded just like Arnold.

Bounce emerged from a tangle of wild gooseberries and trotted over to her. She picked him up.

“I do not like to be touched,” she said.

“What about that cat?”

“What about him?” Lia asked.

“I might just touch him sometime. How’d you like that?”

Lia felt her fear becoming anger. “If you hurt Bounce, I will . . .”

“You’ll what?” Ronnie grinned nastily. “You think you could get lucky and lay me out again?”

Lia was not sure she could. Ronnie was big and strong, and if he got his arms around her, the tricks she had learned from Yar Song might not be enough. She began backing away from the truck, clutching Bounce to her chest.

“Don’t worry,” Ronnie said. “I’m not interested in your scrawny little body. Not now, anyway. But tonight?” He grinned. “Who knows?” He took off, spraying dirt and gravel from the back tires.

With Bounce in her arms, Lia set off for the Feye house. If there was no Gate, she would return to the Beckers’, collect some food and clothing, and simply walk away. Lia knew little of what lay beyond Hopewell, but there had to be other towns and other people. Wherever she found herself, it could not be worse than this.

As she was walking along the county road, a shadow passed over her. Looking up, she saw an enormous, wheeling flock of birds. She could feel her pulse in her throat. The Pigeons of the Prophet! Lia watched until they disappeared over the horizon. Bounce became restive. She set him on the ground. He trotted along beside her as they continued their journey. The Feye house came into view just as a car turned into the driveway. The car stopped in front of the garage.

Tucker Feye got out.

Lia’s chest swelled; she could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Another person climbed out of the car — a man with a shaved head, all dressed in black. Tucker did not notice her standing by the road. He went straight from the car into the house. Lia walked up the driveway. The man with the shaved head saw her, tipped his head, and smiled quizzically.

“Hey there,” he said.

For a moment, Lia could not understand why the man looked so odd. Then she realized that he had no eyebrows.

“You have no eyebrows,” she told him.

The patches of pale flesh, where his eyebrows should have been, elevated.