{20}
A House That Knows What You Need
The afternoon slipped away beneath a bright blue sky. Iris, Attie, and Tobias didn’t stop until every wounded soldier was safely evacuated and Keegan gave them the signal to depart.
It was much later than they had anticipated leaving, with the sun sinking toward the western horizon and spring’s chill blooming into shadows. But a strange energy stirred Iris’s blood; it cut through her exhaustion and held her fear at bay as she followed Attie and Tobias to the roadster. It felt triumphant to slip into the car’s familiar leather seat.
The three of them had warned Keegan’s brigade in time. They had seen the wounded safely loaded and driven to the east, troops that Dacre wouldn’t capture and turn. It was a sweet victory, and Iris leaned back with a smile as Tobias cranked the car.
“We make a good team,” he said, as if he also felt the same thrill in his blood.
“I can already see tomorrow’s headline.” Attie propped her elbows on the back of Tobias’s seat. “It’s sure to sell a thousand papers in Oath.”
“Two brave reporters save Enva’s last brigade?” Tobias guessed as he drove through the streets. The roadster’s engine purred a familiar tick-tick-tick as they followed the army’s trail.
“I think you’re forgetting someone, Bexley,” Attie drawled. “He has nine lives, if you recall.”
Tobias laughed, but Iris didn’t hear how he replied. Her attention was snagged by a few privates who lingered behind, boarding up lintels, garages, and windows of buildings on the outskirts of town. Iris turned to watch them, hair tangling across her face. Cold dread began to seep through her bones.
She wondered if this was a last-minute order of Keegan’s, to make it more difficult for Dacre’s forces when they arrived by inner doorways. But Iris couldn’t deny that it felt more like the town was bracing for a windstorm. Something that would level every building into rubble.
The roadster passed the last barricade, reaching the open high road. Up ahead was the line of lorries, fading into the distance as they drove eastward. The motorcar followed for half a kilometer before the road branched.
“Hawthorne Route is notorious for its bends,” Tobias said as he turned the car, taking the shortcut. “You might need to hold on.”
“Might?” Attie said dryly as she slid across the seat, bumping into Iris. “I thought I was promised a smooth ride.”
“And I have a retort to that statement,” Tobias said, meeting Attie’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “But gods know I shouldn’t say it.”
Attie took hold of the rope handle in front of her, drawing closer to him. “Is that a challenge, Bexley?”
Iris, who had been watching them with an amused smile, suddenly felt like she needed to glance away. She did, looking through the mud-speckled windshield at the serpentine road they raced along. Her eyes widened when she realized the shadow up ahead was something else entirely.
“Tobias!” Iris cried just as they hit the pothole.
Tobias jerked the wheel. The roadster spun with a stomach-churning lurch. Both girls scrambled to hold on as Tobias recovered control.
“Again, a smooth ride,” Attie teased, attempting to lighten the mood. But Tobias’s posture had gone rigid. Iris felt him gear the car down, the engine whining.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
Tobias didn’t answer as he brought the roadster to a sudden halt in the middle of the road.
He vaulted over the door, frowning as he studied the left side of the car. Iris didn’t have to see for herself; she felt how the roadster listed, and she held her breath as Tobias knelt.
“A flat tire,” he announced in a clipped tone. “I shouldn’t have hit that pothole.”
“I’m sorry,” Attie breathed. She chewed on her lip as she slipped out the door, standing beside him to survey the damage. “I shouldn’t have distracted you.”
Tobias stood, brushing his hands on his trousers. “It’s not a problem. I have a spare in the boot, but it’ll take me a moment to fix.”
“Let me help.”
As Tobias and Attie began to pull everything out of the trunk to find the spare and the jack, Iris set their luggage off to the side, feeling the tension brew in the air. Night was fast approaching. The first stars had broken the dusk when Tobias let out a curse.
“I can’t find my tire iron,” he said, racing a hand over his black, crew-cut hair. “Iris, will you light that lantern for me?”