Chapter 28

Prairie Fire

The road back to Foothill wasn't long.

They left the post heading southeast. The mountain track bent a few times through the brush. Lila led, pace neither fast nor slow, that homemade long crossbow slanted across her back.

A little farther on, packing sounds still drifted faintly from the post behind them.

Nova walked a while, then couldn't help sidling up to Eren. "Eren—what do we do? Do we stay…"

"Talk when we're back." Eren didn't look at him. Voice low.

Nova's mouth was still open. He followed Eren's gaze ahead—Lila, only a few steps on.

Coming out of the valley they'd already passed two narrow gaps. At each mouth, sentries in the stone shadow saw Lila, nodded once, and let them through.

The path underfoot ran mostly behind thorn and high grass. Without a guide you'd walk in circles. Folks who went up for firewood or mountain goods mostly took a wider dirt bank nearby. As the crow flies the two tracks weren't far apart. Outsiders still had a hard time finding this one.

Crows in the woods came sparse, then thick. A half-rotted wood plaque leaned by the road, ink washed out by rain—a few crooked characters still readable as KEEP OFF, or something close. The wind carried the smell of damp rotting leaves. What sun got through was cold.

Nova snuck a look deep into the trees, then snapped his eyes back to his feet.

"Quiet road," Eren said, half to Lila. "Hard for outsiders to wander in."

Lila didn't break stride. "Right. Our people put word around town too—people die up here for no reason. That keeps most of them off."

"Now and then a couple get lost. Sentries at the gaps ask them back real polite."

By evening the outline of Foothill showed through the brush.

At the town edge stood a row of low houses—some lit, some dark. A mountain-goods shop on the street still had its door half open. Under a dim lamp someone weighed stock on a scale; bundles of dried hides hung from a crossbeam. The sour reek of cured meat drifted to the alley mouth.

Lila didn't take them through the front. She cut around to the narrow lane behind the shop wall and stopped at a plain wood door. Paint worn to bare wood, nearly the same color as the brick seams. The crooked plaque by the door was even harder to read from here.

"This is it." She pulled a brass key from her belt and unlocked it. "Shop's up front. We take the back—saves running into customers."

Inside, against one wall: curing crocks, a few sacks, a stack of hides dumped in the shadow. Farther in, a narrow stair ran straight to the second floor.

Upstairs were two small rooms—one for junk, the other with two low bunks. The window wasn't big. Push it open and you could see scattered lamps on the road and people passing. The cured-meat smell thinned; wood and old bedding took over.

"Water jar's over there." Lila pointed. "Food's downstairs. Someone in town drops supplies every few days. They put it away when it comes."

She set the key on the table and looked at Eren.

"Need anything, find Mr. He up front. He runs the shop. In and out, use the back door."

Nova leaned toward the window, then pulled back.

"You two settle in. I've got to go," Lila said. "Branch move's a lot of work. They need me back."

At the doorway she added, "Rest well. Need a word sent, have Mr. He carry it."

"All right. Watch the road," Eren said.

Lila nodded, turned, and went down. Boards creaked under her. Then the back door shut soft, and footsteps faded down the lane.

Only the two of them left in the room.

Nova sat on the edge of a bunk. Legs not steady yet and he was already talking. "Can we say it now?"

Eren didn't answer right away. He eased back against the wall, found a way that didn't press the wound, and shut his eyes a beat.

"You first."

Nova blinked. "Me?"

"Today, in front of Mr. Shen—you shouldn't have jumped in."

Nova's face shifted, a little hurt. "I was telling the truth."

"Maybe." Eren opened his eyes and looked at him. "But not then."

Nova went quiet, both hands on his knees.

"You open your mouth, Mr. Shen knows how you think," Eren said. "A grown man who wants something out of you—that gets easy."

"But he doesn't seem like a bad guy…"

"I didn't say he was." Eren cut him off. "I said don't let anyone read you at a glance. Good or bad—doesn't matter."

Nova was quiet a few seconds, then dropped his head.

"One more thing," Eren said. "What people say isn't always true. Mr. Shen's story sounds reasonable. But think—what have we seen with our own eyes?"

Nova thought. "Ron?"

"Right. Ron you can put your hands on," Eren said. "The rest—asteroid defense going down, tech being locked down—all of that came from Mr. Shen."

"His story might hold. Swap in another story and that might hold too. Nobody can check."

Nova's brow creased.

"I'm not saying he's a liar," Eren said. "Just don't take other people's words as fact—even when they look solid."

He shifted. The wound pulled; he sucked a breath, waited it out, then went on.

"And Mr. Shen only sold the upside of joining the Ash Army. Someone looks after you. Someone helps study the shoot. What's the cost?"

Nova didn't catch up at once. Eren kept going.

"The Ash Army isn't a charity. Their enemies will kill you. Tie yourself to them and you're standing across from those people," Eren said.

Nova said nothing. Fingers twisted the hem of his pant leg.

"Mr. Shen left that out because he's recruiting—not talking you out of it."

The room went still a while. Downstairs came the sounds of Mr. He putting things away—a crock lid knocking once, then the rasp of a sack dragged across the floor.

Nova spoke, quieter than before. "I get it."

Eren watched him.

"But I still think… people there were good to us," Nova said, toe scuffing the floor.

He paused, lifted his eyes to Eren.

"If you leave, I go with you."

Outside, a few more lamps came on. Someone far off yelled a kid home for dinner.

"Nobody's leaving you there alone," Eren said.

Nova let out a breath. His shoulders dropped.

"We're not cutting them off either," Eren said. "We don't join—but we can work with them."

"Work with them?"

"Take jobs," Eren said. "Their work—if we can help, we take it. One job at a time, settle each one clean. Keep the terms clear. That way we don't owe them, and they can't order us."

Nova chewed his lip and thought.

"And there's another upside," Eren said. "What Mr. Shen told us—we can watch it while we work. See enough, and true and false sorts itself out."

Nova's face eased.

"Okay," he said.

"Next time something like this comes up," Eren held up one finger, "don't put your cards on the table. My business, your gift—if you don't have to say it, don't."

Nova nodded.

Eren went downstairs for dry rations and water. They made a meal of it—cured meat sliced thin with half a hard flatbread for supper. Outside, the sky had gone full dark. Only a few lamps left on the streets.

Nova swallowed the last of the bread and started to speak.

The floor shook once.

Then a boom rolled in from the mountain across the window—heavy, close. Like thunder, but louder, echoes peeling down the valley in layers.

Nova shot to his feet. Same instant, Eren was already at the window.

Light on the ridgeline stood sharp against the night sky—not ordinary fire. Closer to white, like something burning hot. Under it, orange-red flame rolled up.

"That way."

The old mine. They'd walked that road that afternoon.

Smoke climbed slowly behind the ridge, wind pulling it into a long dark band.

Nova blurted, "What happened?"

Maybe someone had hit the old mine. Or explosives and explosive bolts stacked for the move had gone off. Nobody could say.

"Come on. Outside." Eren turned for the door.

They felt their way down the narrow stair in the dark. Back door open—night wind shoved in with a thin taste of smoke. They hugged the rear wall and edged a few steps upwind.

The front door was still half open. Mr. He stood on the step with an oil lamp, face half lit, half dark.

Eren spoke up. "Mr. He?" Lila had told them what to call him. "That over there—the hills?"

"No mistake." Mr. He didn't turn. The lamp shook in the wind. "Folks up the mountain… hope they're all right."

Seeing the two of them still headed for the street, Mr. He hurried to block them.

"Go back inside and wait on word. Not that I don't trust you. We don't know what's going on yet."

Down the main street people pushed doors open—blankets over shoulders, packs in hand, babies in arms. Lamps lit one after another. Someone stamped and yelled, "Earthquake!" "Meteor again!"

A few households were already inside tearing through boxes, talking about running to relatives in the next town—like one more minute and this place would go down with that ridge.

The two of them stood a while longer at the back door, eyes never leaving the mine.

Eren pulled Nova back upstairs. Mr. He was right. Two outsiders who didn't know the ground had no business playing hero now.

The window frame was still cold. The color outside burned hot enough to sting the eyes.

Some time later the wood door downstairs slammed hard.

Eren and Nova both looked toward the stair.

Through the wall from outside, a voice came up ragged, out of breath:

"Open up."

Lila.

(End of Chapter 28)