“How large are the lots here?” Caeran asked.
“Ten acres,” Len said. “We’re looking at two adjacent ones.”
She directed him toward the northwest by a fairly winding route. We had a fine view of the antenna farm on Sandia Crest. That would mean good Internet reception, for what it was worth.
After about fifteen minutes, we turned onto a short street that ended in a cul-de-sac. Len pulled up a map of lots on her tablet, and we got out and walked around. The area was hilly, with a dense forest of mixed piñon and juniper. Rocky underfoot. Chamisa bushes were in bloom, and I sneezed, wishing for antihistamines.
“Can’t see the neighbors,” Len commented. “That’s good.”
“This is the one that’s zoned residential?” Caeran asked.
“Yeah. We might have to pull some strings to build the lab—there are covenants.”
“If we combined the two lots and built right in the center, perhaps that would do.”
“Take some legal finagling. Manda would know what we need.”
Caeran turned to me. “Steven? What do you think?”
I looked around at the hills. “You’d probably have to berm some of the buildings. Where’s the center spot?”
We consulted Len’s tablet and GPS, and found the center of the two lots. It happened to fall in the steepest part, with a dry wash running almost exactly down the property line. It would take a lot of earth-moving, and some erosion control, to get it ready for buildings.
We left it on the list and got back in the car. Drove back out to the highway and back south. Turned right on the road that went up to Sandia Crest, which made me curious. There were a few houses in the area, but not many as far as I knew.
We drove up for a while. Len directed Caeran to turn on a side road that was almost invisible. It wasn’t paved, but it was well-graded and recently graveled. It started to climb, and a ponderosa forest closed in around us.
I rolled down my window, wanting to smell the pines. This forest reminded me of the Gila Wilderness, one of my favorite childhood stomping grounds. Clumps of oak grew beneath the evergreens, some of the leaves going orange already. I inhaled deeply, not quite hanging my head out the window like a dog. As we wound higher into the mountains, the air got perceptibly cooler, with a hint of the damp forest scent that I had always loved.
“Look for a lot number sign that says ‘64’,” Len told us.
She spotted it first, just a small sign by the road, no driveway. Caeran pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned on the hazards. We piled out.
I walked a few steps onto the land and stopped to take a deep breath. Tall pines swayed gently and I heard the rushing-water sound of wind in the trees. I closed my eyes.
Footsteps moved past me, crunching on dry needles in the grass. After a moment I followed.
The grass here was greener though it was definitely drying out with the approach of autumn. We walked westward up a gentle slope and before long reached a small meadow ringed by pines. A stand of aspens, just starting to get a tinge of gold on the edges of their fluttering leaves, stood at the north end.
“Oh,” Len said, sounding enchanted.
Caeran turned to me. “What do you think? Big enough for the lab?”
“Um.”
My first thought was that it would be a shame to fill that beautiful place with buildings. Knowing the ælven, though, the buildings would be just as beautiful. I made myself focus on the question.
“I don’t think the lab needs to be huge. It will be me, Len, Lomen...you?”
“Probably not me, but as you suggested, we should recruit one other if we can.”
“So maybe one big room, one smaller room, some storage and space for an office. Don’t need a reception area—or do we?”
“No. The house will serve if we ever need to entertain.”
“So, a house. How many will live there?”
“Those working at the lab, and possibly one or two others. Manda, for instance.”
“Office for Manda, then. And the house: four bedrooms? Five? That’s kind of big.”
Len grinned. “Wait ‘til you see Madóran’s house.”
“We could do worse than use Madóran’s house as a model,” Caeran said.
“It wouldn’t fit here, though,” said Len.
“The lot is thirty acres.”
We walked westward, uphill, leaving the sunny meadow behind. The wonderful vanilla smell of the ponderosas filled the air. I took long, deep breaths, savoring the forest.
Could I live here? Oh, yes.
I found myself wishing I could share this with Lomen. Wanting to lie in that meadow, with the smell of dry leaves around us and aspen leaves flickering against blue sky above.
We found another meadow, a smaller one, after walking about five minutes. The sound of water was more pronounced, and when Len gave a cry of delight I saw why: a little stream ran down one side of the meadow, trending northward.
Caeran watched her run over to it, smiling fondly. He seemed more relaxed than I’d seen him in a while.
“If we site the house here, would you mind walking to the lab?” he asked me.
Duh. “Uh, no.”
“Even in the snow?”
“I’ve got a down coat.” Left over from the one season I dated a skier. I’d been too much a novice for him.
We strolled over to join Len by the stream, then we all followed it uphill for a while. Just when I was wondering if we’d strayed off the lot, we found the water’s source: a spring, bubbling up from a rocky hollow in the hillside. More aspens stood around it, along with scrub oak and other bushes I couldn’t identify. The slope got noticeably steeper beyond the spring.
“Is this on the property?” I asked.
“If it isn’t, we will buy this land as well,” Caeran said.
“Might be on forest land,” Len said.
“Then we will seek permission to use it.”
“It’s gorgeous,” I said, staring at the water rising out of the mountain’s heart. Like most desert rats, I’m sentimental about water.
“I think we’ve seen enough,” Caeran said.
Len stepped toward him. “There’s one more property.”
“We’ll look at it.”
The walk downhill seemed shorter. We got in the car and headed back to the village. The other property Len had us visit was closer to it and smaller. It was pretty, but there were neighboring houses within sight. We didn’t have to discuss it.
We got back in the car, but instead of starting it, Caeran pulled out his phone and asked Len to give him the number of the agent selling the previous lot. Right then and there, he offered to buy the land at its listed price. He also asked if any adjoining property was available. I could just picture the real estate agent salivating.
We were thirsty, so we stopped at the local grocery store for drinks. This would be our neighborhood store, I thought, admiring a fairly extensive wine section.
I could buy some, I realized. On impulse, I grabbed a bottle of champagne and took it to the register with my bottle of water. The cashier asked to see my ID and wished me a happy birthday, which got me a raised eyebrow from Len.
“You must be very thirsty,” Caeran said as we walked out.
“It’s for celebrating, right?”
He smiled. “Good idea, though perhaps a little premature. I have yet to sign the purchase.”
“We could stop on our way home,” Len said. “The agent’s here in Cedar Crest.”
“They won’t have the paperwork ready, I think, but yes—let’s stop and say hello.”
The real estate office was in a tiny strip mall with half a dozen store fronts. The agent, a thirty-something who introduced himself as Tony Gutierrez, was delighted to see us and came close to fawning over Caeran. He offered us all chairs and coffee, and passed around the listings for two neighboring pieces of land. Caeran ended up signing a purchase agreement for the original lot and writing out a down-payment check for an amount that made me feel faint.
We were doing it. We were building a compound—a commune, maybe—in a gorgeous forest in the mountains. I had trouble believing it was real.
Driving home, Caeran chatted with Len about finding an architect and where to put a solar array. I sat thinking about that beautiful land, which I couldn’t wait to see again.
In less than half an hour, we were home. The commute would be livable, though I’d probably have to get a car. A buzz of excitement had lodged in my chest, and I wished Lomen was in Albuquerque instead of miles away.
Going back into the darkened house knocked my mood down a couple of notches, and even as I stepped inside I noticed tension in the living room. A pair of candles on the coffee table lit the room. Pirian was sitting up, albeit in a slumped attitude. A mug of tea sat untouched before him.
Savhoran stood on the other side of the table, glowering. Madóran, in Manda’s chair, looked calm and watchful. Manda wasn’t in the room.
“Pirian,” Caeran said. “How are you feeling?”
“Persecuted.”
His voice was raspy. He still looked like crap, although Madóran wasn’t hovering the way he had the previous day.
“We are discussing a matter of atonement,” Savhoran said.
“I did not kill the human.”
“You participated in her death.”
Oh, man. I slunk to the kitchen to put my champagne in the fridge.
The back door opened and Manda came in. The look she gave me told me this had been going on for a while.
She got out a glass and filled it with water. “Any luck?” she murmured.
I nodded, answering in a low voice. “Caeran put money down on some land.”
Her face lit with interest.
Someone said something sharp in ælven in the other room. Manda glanced sidelong toward the doorway, then invited me to escape to the back patio with a sideways nod. I followed her out, relieved to be in the sunlight again.
“They’ve been arguing all day,” Manda said, stretching out in a chair. “They’re going around in circles, I think. Pirian is just being stubborn.”
“And Savhoran is standing his ground.”
“Uh-huh. He’s in the right: the creed is clear about atonement.”
If Pirian left over this disagreement, the others would consider him alben. Maybe he wouldn’t care.
But we’d lose access to his genes. That was worth caring about, even though he was infected.
I wondered idly if we could get a cryo-freezer small enough to fit somewhere in the house, and if we could sneak a sample of Pirian’s DNA. I had vague recollections that hair wasn’t viable, but if it had a follicle attached....
“So tell me about this land,” Manda said, turning in her chair to face me.
I told her, trying not to rave too much about how beautiful it was. She listened, and when I’d finished she asked, “What about water rights?”
“Caeran asked the real estate guy about that. He’s going to check about the spring. We’ll have to drill a well anyway; the spring doesn’t have enough volume to serve the lab and the house.”
“What’s the water like on neighboring properties?”
“We didn’t talk about that.”
“I’ll call.” She took a swig of water. “It’ll be hard on Savhoran.”
“Why? I figure they all will love it. No humans crawling all over.”
“But that’s the problem. He’ll have to come to the city to hunt. He already has to be careful.”
Whenever I thought about Savhoran’s life, I was struck by how bleak it must be. He really was courageous, to be able to face it. Good thing he had Manda.
“You all set for your cup-bonding?”
She gave a huff of laughter. “Nervous. Pretty ridiculous, considering how simple a ceremony it is.”
“Maybe, but it’s a big step, right?”
She nodded. “I just hope I can help him enough.”
The note of doubt in her voice was disconcerting. Usually, she exuded complete confidence.
The sun was dipping toward the horizon. It would be up for a while yet, but my stomach was starting to growl. No lunch. The discussion was still going on in the living room.
“Should we maybe start some dinner?” I asked.
“Yeah, probably a good idea. I don’t think they’re going to stop. Can you cook?”
“A little.”
“Then I’m your sous chef. All I’m good for is chopping stuff.”
We went inside and I ransacked the cupboards for something I could handle cooking. Fell back on the bachelor’s standby: pasta. I grabbed an onion and some miscellaneous veggies out of the fridge, and while Manda put together a salad, I put water on to boil, then sliced up the onion and set it sautéeing. Threw in some tomatoes and zucchini then poked around in the spice cupboard and found basil, Italian herb mix, and garlic powder. With all of those, my veggie mess started turning into a sauce.
I put the pasta on to boil, then grabbed a stack of plates and started toward the dining nook. Manda called me back.
“Pirian’s hungry. We should probably eat out back.”
“Oh. OK.” I put the plates on the counter, out of her way. “How’s he going to hunt? He’s still pretty weak.”
“I think that’s part of what they’re discussing. Savhoran could take him out, but he’s …” She lowered her voice. “He wants to make sure Pirian offers proper atonement.”
“And Pirian doesn’t want to?” I whispered.
“He says he doesn’t have anything to offer.”
“Like a gift, you mean.”
“Yeah. Which is a good point, but I get the feeling he doesn’t see atonement as necessary, not the way the others do.”
“He hasn’t been following the creed the way they do.”
“Right. Hard to go back, I guess.”
I nabbed a slice of carrot from the salad bowl. “Didn’t he accept Savhoran’s authority when he joined Ebonwatch? Savhoran’s the clan leader, right?”
“Yeah,” Manda said slowly. “I’m not so sure how seriously Pirian takes that, either.”
I stirred the sauce and crunched the carrot, trying to imagine Pirian’s point of view. Wasn’t very successful. To me it seemed obvious that staying in Ebonwatch would be to his advantage, but force of habit might be keeping him from seeing that.
I opened a bottle of the wine I’d brought from my apartment and set it on the counter by the salad. When the pasta was done, Manda called the others to the kitchen to dish up. I heard Len telling Madóran that she’d sit with Pirian for a while.
I got some Romano cheese out of the fridge and got out the grater. Madóran came in, looking tired. I was about to ask him when he had slept last, then I remembered and bit back the question. He glanced at me and smiled.