Wolf Song (Wolf Singer Prophecies Book 1)

was hidden from sight. I'd put the Engima in my pack, carry the typewriter with its cover on, and walk between the blessed stones that marked the path up the mountain.
Before I left, he shuffled his feet and asked me a question. "So I get that you have your own little farm somewhere in the mountains. But you know you're always welcome here, right? And with your dad here? I'm sure my parents would love for you to be here. They would find accommodations. Especially—"
He bit his lip.
"Especially since there are a probably a few vacant houses now that the Skolls overran the place?" I didn't tease him any more than that. Gallows humor. "It's all good, don't feel bad. This is the world that we know now. And it's okay to be practical. It doesn't make you any less human."
He nodded. "I just keep forgetting. It feels so bad."
I had to remind myself that we all used to be that way. Those of us who had lived in the cities were used to a sense of community and banding together. But now that we were apart, the community that I was loyal to? Was my dad. No one else.
He was the one who protected us, and I didn't feel any kind of loyalty or kinship otherwise, other than to trade. But that wasn't anything I was going to share. I wasn't going to tell him that I felt like a target here and that blending into the mountain was the best way for me to survive, regardless of the fact that they had my dad's resting body here.
If I could have dragged him out of town I would have.
I settled the boxes and covers. And he gave me a wagon. I started to pay him or offer him something, but he held his hand up at me. "You and your dad provided for this community more than you can imagine. A wagon and two machines from before the Before is little payment, I'd think."
I ducked my head at the generosity. “Thank you. And, thank you for not asking why I need any of this.”
Kirby just shrugged, his open body language comforting in the midst of all the recent secrecy. “Like I said. It’s the apocalypse. What else are we gonna do?”
I made it home with little incident. The mayor had seen me with Kirby and tried to insist on me staying there in town, but Ms. Zorah was having none of that. "It's all right child. You got your work. We got ours. And I know your dad be wanting you to do your work and do it well."
I didn't know what kind of insight she had, but it felt right. Her very words sent tingles down my leg. If I didn't know different, I’d’ve said she was a word mage or maybe even a preacher herself.
I brought it all in and set it in the dining room. Even though I wanted to get right on it, I knew that there was still a lot to get done before the sun set.
I re-braided my hair and got moving on my chores. None of the fence line was breached and there were no odd kids or weird lures. I stocked my pantry and got plenty of water and provisions for the next day. Having a fully stocked supply pantry kept my anxiety at bay. I took scissors to the medicine garden and snipped some of the ones that seemed the most familiar to me.
I figured at the very least I would make a tasty stew for tonight. Maybe I’d give the extras to Ms. Zorah. No matter what Kirby said, no matter that my dad had preached away the Hellfire every now and again, I still felt the need to pay for what I had brought home with me. And that feeling of debt needed to disappear before I’d feel better.
I set the stew to cooking. I was lucky to have had a lot of vegetables and beans, not to mention enough meat left from my dad's portion of cattle, that I was able to make something that would last a while..
I washed up and then ate over the stove. The beans weren't quite soft yet when I tested them; they would do fine for later. But the rest of the vegetables were great and the meat was tender and delicious. I made sure to eat slowly and chew so I didn't get a stomach ache for eating too much, too fast.
I set a kettle on the burner for peppermint tea and headed to the dining table as the sun was setting. It was funny how I could feel the darkness descend like a piece of clothing running against my skin.
I put my dad's scriptures and his notebook on his usual place setting at the dinner table. Then I opened the Enigma machine. I had cleaned off the caking of dust before I had placed it in my bag to carry here.
Unboxing the heavy machine was awkward, but I managed. I placed it right at my usual spot as if it were a normal place setting. Forks on the left of the main entree, Enigma machines on the right. The typewriter I set on the left. I would get to it later.
For now, I wanted to work on the words.
At the church, when Kirby wasn’t looking, I’d pocketed the reference book containing the Morse code chart, and brought it home with the rest of the stuff. I figured it would be needed in case I missed something and needed it to decrypt this passage.
This was exactly why I needed to give that food to Ms. Zorah. As penance.
First, I tried using the Enigma. I hoped that it would be as easy as typing in the letters that I saw on the page, but I ended up with more nonsense. A key. I needed a key to plug into this machine, in order to test out the substitution.