Seeker of the Four Winds: A Galatia Novel (45 page)

“What happened to your regular
assistants?”

“Who knows?”

“A party,” Josie said, bottom lip quivering.
“Suddenly, I’m not in the mood. I think I just want to go home,
curl up in a ball, and pretend the last year was just a really
weird dream.”

“Me too,” Lars agreed.

“Judge Elizabeth expects all of the council
members to attend, even the junior members, so you better be
there.” With those words, the professor retreated out the
doors.

“I’m taking Josie to the hospital,” Lars
informed everybody in the room, ignoring her protests. “See if
there’s anything we can do to reduce the risks from long-term
exposure. When we’re through, I’ll come back to help you set up for
the party.”

“No,” Gizmo shook his head. “You both look
about to drop.”

..............................

(Josephine Rose Albright)

Back in her mother’s new apartment, Josie
awoke in her own bedroom, in her own bed, a full-sized one with a
straw-tick mattress held up by a net of ropes. She had bathed
before going down for a nap. Her filthy clothing had been tossed.
It had felt great to slip into fresh pair of pink undies and a
matching sports bra. Snuggling into sheets and a downy comforter
had never felt so good. It had been a long time since she didn’t
have to sleep on a cold prison floor, or dirt, or grass, wondering
if some wild animal was going to eat her, or some angry humanoid
smash her face in. It took every ounce of willpower to roll out of
bed. Never again would she take for granted sleeping under a roof
with walls to protect her.

Mother’s home lacked electricity, but it had
running water and a indoor plumbing—pure luxury. Through the parted
curtains, made from old beach towels with cats driving race cars
all over them, the deepening violet sky hosted a congregation of
sparkly stars. As she stretched her sore joints, a thought popped
into her head. How had Red Wakeland survived the fall into the
Mouth of God? Nobody seemed to have an explanation and Red wasn’t
sharing. She vowed to figure it out sooner or later.

When she had come through the door earlier
that afternoon, Mother had screamed, not in fear or anger, but in
excitement. She flung her arms around her daughter, both weeping.
It took Josie five minutes to assure her mother that she was not a
mirage. Mother wasn’t normally the emotional type, and growing up
Josie had felt unloved at the distance between them, but this . . .
it was good to know that she had been missed—loved.

Mother was gone now—at the
party, no doubt. Josie had promised to join her later, but wanting
to relax, she was having second thoughts.
Sweet Home Alabama
was blaring from
the square, making her bedroom walls thump. Her feet gyrated to the
peppy beat. Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a quick appearance
at the party.

She grabbed a brush to calm her hair, which
had grown well past her shoulder blades. Twirling into the living
room, she made her own lyrics, singing, “Sweet home, Galatia!”

When the song segued to something slow and
boring, she plopped down at the round kitchen table and began to
fiddle at the gauze around her wrist. It felt bare without the
Seeker, but she was glad it was gone. The doctors at Hopewell had
taken a blood sample for testing and they were going to get back
with her as soon as they knew anything. Dr. Katrina Sweet, however,
had been forthright in her assessment. The blood test probably
wouldn’t be able to tell them much, but prolonged radiation
exposure had put Josie at a greater risk for cancer.

Now, there’s something to
look forward to,
Josie thought sullenly.
How much later was the question? If she married Lars, would he be
left a young widower? What if their children were deformed in some
way? What if she wasn’t around to help them grow up? A lump formed
in her throat just thinking about her compromised
future.

At least Lindsey was okay. Lars and Josie
had stopped to visit her in the hospital. The spear had been
removed, there would be no permanent damage, and she was going to
be released in time for the party. They had also run into Prince
Loyl, who was there with his injured brother, Prince Gerard.

“Will we see you at the celebration
tonight?” Dr. Steelsun had joined their impromptu reunion in the
hospital lobby.

Loyl shook his head. “My people attacked
Galatia, I wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

“But you’ve done more for Galatia than most
of the Galatians,” Josie had pointed out. Nonetheless, the prince
preferred to stay by his brother’s side.

As she glanced in the mirror hanging in the
living room, she spotted a tube of lipstick sitting on its shelf.
After years of eschewing cosmetics as a symptom of society’s
superficial emphasis on beauty, today it was a symbol of
civilization, a sign of abundance. She painted her pale lips red
and applied black eyeliner.

A knock on the door made her hand jerk,
causing her to draw a black line down her cheek.

“Dammit,” she said, and then called out.
“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Lars.”

Her heart quickened at the sound of his
voice. “Just a sec!”

Dashing to her bedroom, she slipped into the
dress her mother had laid across the foot of the bed. It was a
simple design, baby blue, with a sweetheart collar, and a
knee-length hemline trimmed in sequins. Josie answered the door in
her bare feet.

There was Lars, with a bouquet of white dog
roses, the kind she had worn in her hair the day he had given her
the guitar.

“You remembered!”

She took them from his hands, her nose
gorging on their spicy perfume.

Lars was dressed in a pair
of navy blue pants, a white button-down shirt, and a vertically
striped tie. Clean shaven, with a fresh haircut, he looked more
like an old-fashioned American Boy, instead of the
Dread of the West
who
made fierce gladiators piss themselves.

“Wow, Lars,” she beamed. “You clean up
well.”

“As do you, Josie. You look beautiful.”

Basking in the compliment, she invited him
in.

He lingered awkwardly inside the doorway as
she searched for a vase to put the roses in. Spying a pitcher on
the kitchen counter, a length of smoothed black stone, she primed
the hand pump. Water gushed out into the pitcher—so simple, so
absolutely wonderful to have indoor water again.

“I didn’t mean to take such a long nap,”
Josie said as she arranged the flowers to perfection. “I figured
you’d be partying your ass off by now.” She grabbed a knit shawl
from the coat hook. “I’m ready if you are.”

When she reached for the door handle, he
placed his hand over hers. Spinning her around to face him, his
chest was heaving, his eyes were fierce with desire, expressing
what words could not. The past was behind them. The future was an a
question mark. All they had was the present.

And they wanted to share it with each
other.

He leaned down, gently touching his lips to
her own. She nibbled. He offered a little tongue. Wanting more, she
opened her mouth in invitation. A delicious stirring began in her
belly. He pulled her against him. His body tightened against her
own. All the suppressed kisses, caresses, and affection evaporated
in an explosion of hot desire. The kisses became deeper, their
hands began to explore one another’s bodies. He picked her up. She
motioned toward her bedroom. He carried her there and set her on
the bed. She loosened his tie and slipped it over his head, then
worked on unbuttoning his shirt, and then his pants.

Before she knew it, he had slipped her dress
up over her shoulders. His hand worked her breasts, worked its way
lower, finding the pleasure spot she hadn’t known was there.

“Are you sure?” his voice was raspy, “I
mean, if you want to wait until we’re married . . .”

“Life is short,” she said, all her fears
melting away in the flames of desire, “I’ve never been surer.”

“Oh, My, God, Josie,” he said, his voice
hoarse with desire. “I wish you could feel how much I love
you.”

“Oh, but I can.” She smiled naughtily,
bringing her hand down to his hardness.

This time he growled playfully in the back
of his throat.

“Damn,” Lars groaned in frustration.

“Shhh,” Josie whispered. “Maybe they’ll go
away.”

Whoever was there knocked again.

“Josie,” a muffled voice called through the
door. “Your mother sent us to fetch you. Is Lars in there with
you?”

They both scrambled for their clothes in the
dark.

“Quick,” Josie said, “make it look like we
weren’t doing what were just doing.”

He struck the match and lit a fat candle
with three wicks at the center of the table.

“Ready?” she asked Lars.

“Wait.” He closed his fly. “Okay.”

She swiped her face clean with a hand towel
dipped in the ewer on her vanity, applied more lipstick, tamed her
disheveled hair with her fingers, straightened the hem of her dress
and plastered on a welcoming smile. When she opened the door, Luke
Steelsun was standing there with Belle Winters. They peered over
her shoulder at Lars, who was busy gulping water.

“Why did it took you so long to answer the
door?” Luke asked.

“With the loud music and all,” Josie
explained a little too rapidly, “I guess I didn’t hear you right
away.”

“Well, you both missed the opening prayer of
thanksgiving, all of the congratulatory speeches, the latest
updates on the wounded, the council’s plans for the future and the
best fried chicken and garlic butter biscuits ever. The only food
left is the crap nobody likes—carrots and yam pudding. Gross.”

“The celebration is in full swing,” Belle
said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Luke and Belle stepped aside, allowing Lars
and Josie to exit past them into the public hallway, and started to
snicker at some inside joke.

“
Just talking
all of this time, eh?”
Luke asked.

“Yes,” Josie said defensively. “Just
talking.”

“If you say so,” Belle replied. “But you
might want to fix your dress before we get the square—it’s on
backwards.”

Josie felt her cheeks flame.

She pulled her arms out of straps, spinning
the dress around while still on her body. Luke offered Lars a hanky
and suggested that he wipe the red lipstick from his neck.

It didn’t take more than five minutes to get
to the square.

The movie,
Glory Alley and the Star
Riders
, was showing on the side of the
National Building, but the music was too loud to hear anything the
actors were saying. Tables had been placed all along the street and
they were filled with people eating, drinking, laughing and playing
cards. Speakers on all sides of the square faced inward. Children,
teens and adults had formed a Conga line that was snaking past the
new arrivals. Luke and Belle were already getting into the beat.
Josie’s feet were itching to join in, so she grabbed Lars and
pulled him into the Conga line.

After the song ended, Judge Elizabeth stood
up at the podium on the landing in front of the National
Building.

“All of the guests of honor are here at
last.” Josie looked around, straining on her tiptoes, to see what
important people had arrived. “Would the members of the Red Squad
please come forward?”

Josie and Lars glanced at
each other in surprise.
Pomp and
Circumstance
began to filter through the
speakers.

Luke nudged them forward as the crowd
parted, leaving them a path up the steps toward Judge Elizabeth.
The people smiled, clapping and patted them on the backs as they
skimmed past them. Lars offered Josie the crook of his arm. She
threaded her arm through his and leaned on him for his quiet
strength. Dante joined them as they climbed the steps. Lindsey was
trying to make her way up the steps on crutches, when Ryan Penn
swept her up and set her down on the landing.

Judge Elizabeth leaned over the microphone
once again.

“Prince Loyl, I know you’re down there
somewhere, don’t be shy. We’re not going to do this without
you.”

Josie saw Prince Loyl arguing with Dr.
Steelsun, obviously reluctant to come up, but he finally gave in
and made his way up the stairs to stand next to Lindsey.

“There’s been about a zillion speeches
today, so I will make this short. The sacrifices of the men and
women standing before you are only beginning to come to light.
Sadly, two of their members, Rolf Marshall and Hogard: Basher of a
Hundred Skulls, made the ultimate sacrifice, giving their lives so
that Galatia might live.”

The microphone carried Lindsey’s
heart-wrenching sobs over the crowd. Josie glanced over at her and
was moved to pity—nose running, shoulders shaking, wobbling on her
crutches—a shell of the sharpshooter she used to be.

“Let us bow our heads in honor all our
fallen heroes and say a prayer that they have found peace.” A hard
lump formed in Josie’s throat. She suddenly felt guilty for
celebrating. What were they thinking? How dare they be happy? Rolf
had died early this morning. Then again, he had known the risk, and
had died fighting for what he believed in. If he were here, despite
the losses, he’d be at the party celebrating their victory. She
felt his blessing upon the whole gathering, easing her guilt.

“And now to honor the living,” Judge
Elizabeth said, her voice echoing over the city. “For courage in
the face of danger, the Nation of Galatia wishes to present to you
this day, Medals of Valor.”

As Judge Elizabeth said each of their names,
General Red went down the line, starting with Prince Loyl, shaking
their hands, congratulating them, and slipping the medals over
their heads.