Chapter 7: Orrin's Price

The old mill road runs along the river between Ironwood land and Black Creek land, and nobody owns it.

Orrin was waiting there at first light with the engine of his truck still running.

Jonas parked two hundred yards back, in the trees.

"I'll hear everything," he said. "If it goes wrong, say my name once."

"I can say it twice."

"Once is plenty."

I got out and walked down the road.

Orrin climbed down from the cab, slowly, favouring his bad leg.

He looked ten years older than he had at the Naming.

"You came," he said.

"You said Colt needs a map."

"The south mill burned last night."

He said it flatly.

"Two of ours were inside. They got out. The patrol that should have been there was sent to the east bank, and it arrived too late."

"Why the east bank?"

"Because that's where the sheet said the road crossed."

"What sheet?"

"The ford sheet. Cassia gave it to Colt on Tuesday." He rubbed his face. "He trusts it. He says it's yours."

I kept my face still.

"It isn't," I said. "I don't draw the east bank. The road doesn't cross there."

Orrin looked at me for a long moment.

Then he looked away at the water.

"I thought that might be it," he said.

"You thought?"

"I'm not a mapper, Roxana. I've never been able to tell."

"You could have asked me."

"Colt told me not to."

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