Withered + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 1) by TJ Klune

the ruined cloth. The dirty bowl. “I expect you’re hungry.”
    He shook his head but wouldn’t look at her. “No, ma’am. Just tired. Bad Dog could probably use something to eat if you’re offering.”
    “I may have a couple of bones for him.” She turned toward the kitchen and took a step. She stopped but didn’t turn back. “Cavalo.”
    “Yeah?”
    She hesitated, and he wondered at her mind. “You know where the bed is,” she said finally. “Get some sleep. I expect you’ll want to provision up before you leave.”
    “Snow’s coming early,” he said. He thought of the Dead Rabbit.
    “It always does. I have work to do.”
    “What?”
    She laughed. “If you can believe it, building a government office.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Wilkinson?”
    “Said they needed a home base. A liaison office, he called it. If you can believe such a thing.”
    “And you’re doing it?”
    Her response was clipped. “Money’s money.”
    He looked down at his hands. Killer’s hands. “That it is.”
    “I’ll be back later.”
    She walked toward the kitchen. Before she got to the doorway, he called out to her. She stopped.
    “In the woods,” he said. “Through the divide.”
    He saw her shoulders tense.
    “The Dead Rabbit. Others were there. They didn’t see me.”
    “Lucky you.” Her voice was tight.
    “They mentioned a name.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah. Seemed like he was their leader.”
    She laughed. It sounded forced. “The Dead Rabbits don’t have leaders. They’re animals.”
    “Even animals follow pack leaders,” he said quietly.
    “What of it?”
    “Patrick.” He looked for a reaction. “That was his name.”
    She gave none. “Good for him. Good for them.”
    “You heard that name?”
    “No.”
    “Okay.”
    “You done? I’m going to be late.”
    “Yeah. Alma?”
    “What?”
    “Thanks. For….”
    “I know.”
    And then she was gone.
     
     
    HE SLEPT in her bed (one that he was not a stranger to) and dreamed of fire and blood.
     
     
    HE WOKE as dusk descended on Cottonwood. For a moment he was still trapped in his dreams and he was sure there was still time. He was sure she hadn’t tried to take Jamie and leave. He was sure all he had to do was call out to her, and she’d open the door and everything would be as it was and as it should be.
    He was so sure.
    He opened his mouth to call her name. It died before he made a sound. The room came back into focus. It was strange but not unfamiliar.
    He closed his eyes. Breathed in.
    And heard her sing.
     
    Good-bye, good-bye, you say good-bye
    From my arms you rise
    Nothing here left, my love
    So you say good-bye
     
    He rose from the bed and followed her song.
     
    You have gone now, o’er the sea
    To the place beyond the mountains
    I cannot walk, I cannot follow
    So I say good-bye
     
    There will be death , the bees said.
     
    Years now passed, memory did fade
    Your face hidden in shadow
    Claimed from me my love
    So we say good-bye.
     
    Good-bye. The man named Cavalo said good-bye.
     
    Good-bye, good-bye, you say good-bye
    From my arms you rise
    Nothing here left, my love
    So you say good-bye
     
    He found her on the porch, sitting in an old wooden chair, a blanket on her lap. The sky was almost dark, hidden behind those ominous clouds. Bad Dog sat in front of her, his head on her thigh, his big dark eyes watching her as she sang. She stroked his ears. On the last sweet note from her lips, she fell silent. He knew that she knew he was there. He waited, ignoring the deep chill in the air.
    Finally, she said, “Wilkinson is taking your prisoner. The Dead Rabbit.”
    “Where?”
    She turned her face toward the sky. “Did you know there are satellites? Do you know that word?”
    He did. He’d heard it before. Somewhere in his travels. Space robots. For however much the idea of how the big the world was scared him, the idea of outside the world was unfathomable to Cavalo. “Yeah.”
    “Great machines. Spinning around Earth, high