Blood Red Road

pile of rocks, I’m in a unknown world. Hopetown lies due north, at the foot of the Black Mountains accordin to Mercy. If I’m lucky, I’ll be there in a week. A week, she said. If I’m lucky.
    Before I know what it’s up to, my hand slides into my pocket. It finds the heartstone an pulls it out. My fingers curl around its coolness, rub its smoothness.
    My heart’s desire. As if a bit of rock could tell me that. I shake my head. If Lugh was here, him an me ’ud laugh about it. I shove it deep in my pocket an swing my gear onto my back.
    Let’s go, I says to Nero.
    I step past the cairn.
    One step closer to Lugh.
    I don’t look back.

    It’s a Wrecker settlement. Jest like the places in Pa’s scare stories.
    Settlements swallowed by wanderin sand dunes, great waves of sand that ’ud cover places in minutes. Then, months or sometimes years later, the sands ’ud move on, an the place ’ud still be there.
    There’s twelve metal shanties still standin here. Also a couple of rusty cars, a wind pointer an some other crappy lookin Wrecker junk piled up. A dry, mean, pinched kinda place. But it ain’t none of it bin scavenged. If it had of, there’d be no doors or walls or anythin left on the shanties an they’re all still here, jest bent an twisted, probly by the weight of the sand.
    No scavengers means it ain’t bin free of the sands fer long. Strange to think that if I’d passed here last week or yesterday or even a couple of hours ago, this might all still be buried outta sight. I could of walked right over it an never known.
    I walk through slowly, Nero ridin on my shoulder. I keep a eye open. You always gotta keep a eye open. You never know when you’ll come across somethin you can use. But I ain’t inclined to take nuthin away from this place. It creeps me out.
    There’s a well. Water’s probly bad, it mostly is in these old Wrecker wells, but in desertland you cain’t afford not to check it out. I start to lift the rusted cover when I see the faint markins on it. Skull an crossbones. Deathwater. I drop the cover with a clatter. It sounds so loud in the silence it makes me jump. Nero flaps off in a panic.
    Then I see ’em. Three rows of crosses stuck in the sand. The wood bleached silver by the sun, worn away, some to little stumps. The crosspiece of one hangs down, ready to fall.
    A wily wind sweeps through, bent on makin mischief. It swirls sand around my feet, tosses it in my eyes an makes ’em sting. It moans, deep inside the well. Rattles at the doors of the shanties. Like somebody might open up and invite it in.
    The loose crosspiece lifts on the wind. Drops silently to the ground. Blows away.
    Deathwater. Shiftin sands.
    Poor bastards.
    Livin here.
    Dyin here.
    As I’m leavin the settlement, Nero swoops down at somethin on the ground. Starts to make the most almighty racket, shriekin an squawkin an flappin all over the place. I hurry over to see what’s causin such a fuss.
    What is it now, you crazy bird? I says.
    He’s got a little ring of smooth green glass in his beak. My heart stops.
    Ohmigawd, I says. I drop to my knees beside him. Hold out my hand. He places the ring on it. Gently.
    It’s Lugh’s. From the necklace I made him fer our birthday. It’s still threaded onto a short piece of the leather thong, snapped at both ends. He must of yanked it from his neck when they warn’t lookin.
    Nero croaks.
    I know, I says. He’s leavin a trail fer us to follow.
    I’ll find you. Wherever they take you, I swear I’ll find you .
    You cain’t, it’s too dangerous. You gotta keep yerself safe. You an Emmi. Promise me you will .
    He knows me. He knew I’d come after him.
    We’re on the right track, I says. I scoop Nero into my arms an kiss his head. He smells of dusty warm feathers. Yer the smartest bird ever lived. You know that, don’t you?
    He gives the little chuck chuck chuck that means he’s pleased with hisself. Then he squirms fer me to let him go. Nero ain’t much of a one fer huggin an such.
    The wind starts howlin at me to move on, liftin up handfuls of desert an throwin it at my face.
    Time to move, I says.
    When I’ve gone half a league or so, I turn an look back.
    The settlement’s gone. Vanished.
    Swallowed by the sands once more.

    I see the tabletop plateau in the far distance around mid mornin. Dusty red rock, high an bare of trees. From the top of it, there should be a clear view in every direction. Maybe I’ll even be able to see Hopetown and the Black