Black Dog(14)

“Edward Toland, sir,” Miguel said. Very respectfully.

Grayson’s heavy brows rose. “Edward. Well. I wouldn’t have guessed that at all.” He paused, studying Miguel, and then went on, “Though perhaps I see a similarity. A subtle likeness, but now I look for it, I might believe that you come from the Toland bloodline.”

“Yes, sir. We do,” Miguel assured him.

Grayson examined them all, one after another. “You all have the same mother? A Pure woman? Do I understand that correctly?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

“How very imprudent of Edward. Thos would not have liked that at all. No wonder he hid himself and his family so carefully. Well… Well, he is now dead, I imagine? During the war?”

Natividad looked down, swallowing. Her dark grief was nothing she wanted to show strangers; it was too ready to tear open, a chasm that could swallow her whole. She was grateful when Miguel answered because that meant she didn’t have to. “After the war, when the black dogs began hunting so boldly,” her twin explained. “Papá hid from Dimilioc well enough before, but not… after the war…” Miguel stopped, taking a hard breath, not as unaffected as he tried to seem.

“Yes, I understand. There are many more stray black dogs in Mexico than here, of course.” Grayson’s hard gaze moved to Natividad, then to Alejandro. He said to Alejandro, “Thus, your decision to cross the border.”

“Yes, sir,” said Alejandro. He didn’t look at Miguel. He said, “We needed to get Natividad somewhere safe. We couldn’t protect her – I could not. Our father’s enemies, they would not stop.”

“Your father’s enemies,” Grayson Lanning repeated, his voice expressionless.

Alejandro had argued that they shouldn’t explain the real reason they’d had to leave Mexico, in case the Dimilioc Master wondered whether he really needed another enemy. But Miguel had said they had better not start at Dimilioc with a lie and Natividad had sided with her twin. So now Alejandro said, still not looking at Miguel, pretending everything had always been his idea, “Vonhausel.”

“That old enmity,” said Zachariah. His tone was dry and unamused. “Yes, I recall that quarrel vividly. So, it did not die even after both Edward and Malvern Vonhausel were cast out.”

“No, sir,” said Alejandro. He started to say something else, but Miguel, interrupting, said quickly and earnestly, “At first I think Papá thought he might track Vonhausel down and kill him, but then I guess Vonhausel got too strong, and Papá met Mamá, and after that Mamá kept us hidden, but I guess maybe there was a lot of magic loose during the war, and somehow Vonhausel learned where we were–”

Alejandro said, overriding Miguel’s lighter voice, “I cannot protect my sister from Malvern Vonhausel. But Dimilioc can surely protect her. If you will. Master.”

Grayson regarded him thoughtfully. “Well, that is likely true. But am I seriously meant to believe that at some point before he died, Edward Toland actually advised you to appeal to Dimilioc for protection?” A slight incredulity had come into the Master’s voice.

Alejandro answered, “Yes, sir. He told… He told us about Dimilioc. He said that the only black dogs who do not live in fear belong to Dimilioc and call themselves wolves. He told us that Dimilioc black wolves live together with humans and with the Pure. That Dimilioc wolves use the Aplacando, the Calming, and cherish the Pure. We know… Everyone knows Dimilioc has always killed any black dog who dares hunt the Pure.” Alejandro paused, then went on, “And then we heard that Thos Korte was dead and you were Master. Papá said if we had to… to leave Mexico, we should come to you.”

What Papá had actually said was, “Don’t stand and fight, hear me?”

He had been speaking to Alejandro; it would not have occurred to Natividad or even Miguel to stand and fight. And he had not exactly been speaking. He had been snarling, the change half on him. They had known by then that Vonhausel had come, that he was close. That they would not be able to fight. The dry forest around Potosi was already burning, the oaks smoldering into slow flames and the pines going up like torches. Black smoke had veiled the whole sky.

Mamá had been trying to show Natividad a special way to hide, always hard for the Pure. Natividad had been trying to learn it, crying with fear and trying not to beg to stay with Miguel. She had known if she stayed too close to her brother, she might draw black dogs to them both. She had had to hide by herself, at the base of the live oak, concealed by its living shadow, and Mamá… Natividad wouldn’t think about that.