Page 70 of Sapphire Nights
A few of the bushes appeared to move. Sam hurried in that direction. “Daisy!”
A stick raised up above a sprawling manzanita hedgesinged by the fire. The staff swung lazily, so the bearer didn’t seem to have any urgentmessage.
“Not having cell phones is a real pain,” Sam muttered, hurrying down the rocky, burned outpath.
“If she’s hurt, I’ll jog back and find Walker. She may be heavy but she’s not large. We can haul her out easily enough, especially if the cart isn’t out of gas.” Monty strode along with confidence,apparently knowing theland.
Sam wondered if he knew she and Valdis were purportedly heirs to the property. Surely, if he’d been researching property rights, he had a full scale map of every lot. But he wasn’t saying anything.Interesting.
Before they reached the hedge, Sam nearly stumbled over what at first appeared to be a stack of stones. On this side of the bluff, the shadowswere long. She took Monty’s flashlight and flashed it over theground.
Lined up around what appeared to be the farm foundation was a military row of small stone statues similar to the one Daisy had left for Sam last night. These weren’t quite as artistic, consisting mostly of three stones maybe a foot high, wired together with whatever bits of flotsam Daisy could summon from her surroundings.Manzanita arms were the primary decoration. One or two had shiny pebbles as ornaments—decorated generals maybe, Sam thought withamusement.
“What the...” Monty bit off the rest of the curse as he examined theline.
Sam’s staff quit pulsating. “Daisy, is it okay for us to cross theline?”
The bushes parted and Daisy’s graying head peered out. Sam breathed inrelief.
“Yes, yes, come along.” She disappeared behind the bushesagain.
“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Sam asked anxiously, stepping across thestatues.
“I’m fine. Montgomery, go home. You’re useless,” Daisy called, actually sounding coherent for achange.
“You can tell the other searchers to go home,” Sam said, holding back a sigh of exasperation. “I’m sorry you got dragged awayfrom your busyschedule.”
Monty almost chuckled. “Par for the course up here. Valdis is probably engraving stones in the cemetery. But I needed the exercise. It’s good to remember what the mountain is about, and I needed to see how much damage the firedid.”
“I think this part of the land will be fine with a little care,” Sam said cautiously. “I studied controlled burns. There arerecommended actions that can betaken.”
He nodded without expression. “I’ll send a few of the women down with flashlights. You’ll all have broken ankles stumbling around in thedark.”
“I’m not hanging around to be found by snakes and cougars,” she said tartly. “But I’ll stay with Daisy until the others decide what they want todo.”
“Glad you understand she won’t be persuadedaway until she’s ready.” He handed her the flashlight and stalked back up the way theycame.
“Good, he’s gone,” Daisy said from behind the hedge. “We need more lamassu. I should have thought of this sooner. We can’t have bulldozershere.”
“Why do we need spirit protection?” Sam asked, pushing through the thick prickly hedges to find Daisy sitting on a part of a stone foundation notcovered in branches. She had rolls of rusty wire and piles of stone and several sets of wire cutters scattered across the rocky clearing. She thought she caught a glimmer of metal buried in the manzanita that might be the golfcart.
Sam examined what must have once been the farmhouse where her grandparents had lived. It wasn’t large. Several old square timbers still remained, perhaps fromthe original cabin. If there had been plaster walls, they’d deteriorated into the general debris. There might have been a concrete floor but there was so much dirt, it was hard to tell. A mud slide may have covered it. The bluff didn’t look particularlystable.
The remains of an old stone chimney were the only real proof that a house hadexisted.
“Evil drives the bulldozers,” Daisysaid. “Here, add this to the line.” From beneath her feather coat, her hand stuck out, holding a new statue. “Not having to get up will save metime.”
“You need to sleep and eat,” Sam remonstrated. “We have lots of time before bulldozers come uphere.”
“No, no.” She shook her long hair. “They’ll come in the dark and raze the trees while we’re sleeping. We can’t let them find theart!”
Gazing at thetreelessbasin, Sam winced. Mariah called Daisy’s irrationality time-walking. It sounded more like hallucinations toher.
She carried the stone figurine out to the line apparently meant to circle the foundation. She set it about the same distance as Daisy had the others. Taking the flashlight, she studied the small army. Even hastily constructed, the stone andstick figures were all tiny works of art, expressing excitement, anger, tension—all the emotions generated by the outdoor meeting. Sam marveled at Daisy’s talent and wondered if the figures could be sold in places like state park gift stores. She needed to call Jade’s gallery owner. She hadcontacts.
Tullah and Walker appeared at the top of the ridgeline. They’d apparently met up with Harvey,who started down the hill, carrying an armload of sticks. Sam waved. It was still new and exciting to have found a few people who might possibly accept her, even when she talked about shivering sticks. Back at the university, they would have been horrified that she wasn’t sending out her resume. Her friends from high school would have giggled over these diverse people. But Sam sensed only concernand interest as the others strode towardher.
Walker hugged her as he followed her through the manzanita hedge. Tullah and Harvey stopped to check the lamassu army as she had just beendoing.
