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They’ve been here for nearly a week, and Connor has yet to feel welcome. Tolerated is more like it—and not because they’re outsiders, for Elina and her brother-in-law, Pivane, have been more than kind to Grace—especially after they realized she’s low-cortical. Even when she stitched up Connor’s ostrich wound, Elina was cool and impassionate about it. “Keep it clean. It’ll heal,” was all she said. She offered no “your welcome,” to Connor’s “thank you,” and he couldn’t tell whether it was a cultural thing, or if her silence was deliberate. Perhaps now that Elina knows he wasn’t responsible for Lev becoming a clapper, she might treat him with a little less frost.
Kele returns with another board game, fumbling with black and white pieces of different sizes.
“So what do you call this game?” Connor asks.
He looks at Connor like he’s an imbecile. “Chess,” he says. “Duh.”
Connor grins, recognizing the pieces as he places them. Like everything else on the rez, the game is hand carved and the pieces unique, like little sculptures—which is why he didn’t recognize it right away. Grace rubs her hands together in anticipation, and Connor considers warning the kid not to get his hopes up, but decides not to: He’s much too entertaining as a sore loser.
Kele is twelve, by Connor’s estimate. He’s not family, but Elina and her husband, Chal, took him in when his mother died a year ago. While Elina has offered Connor no information on anything, Kele, whose mouth runs like an old-time combustion engine, has been filling Connor in on a part of Lev’s life that Lev never spoke about.
“Lev showed up here maybe a year and a half ago,” Kele had told Connor. “Stayed for a few weeks. That was before he got all scary and famous and stuff. He went on a vision quest with us, but it didn’t turn out so good.”
Connor placed Lev’s weeks at the rez somewhere between the time he and Risa lost Lev at the high school in Ohio and the time he showed up at the Graveyard, markedly changed.
“He and Wil became good friends,” Kele told Connor, glancing at a portrait of a teenaged boy who looked a lot like Elina.
“Where is Wil now?” Connor asked.
It was the only time Kele got closemouthed. “Gone,” he had finally said.
“Left the rez?”
“Sort of.” Then Kele had changed the subject, asking questions about the world outside the reservation. “Is it true that people get brain implants instead of going to school?”
“NeuroWeaves—and it’s not instead of school. It’s something rich stupid people do for their rich stupid children.”
“I’d never want a piece of someone else’s brain,” Kele had said. “I mean, you don’t know where it’s been.”
On that, Connor and Kele were in total agreement.
Now, as Kele concentrates intently on his game of chess with Grace, Connor tries to catch him off guard enough to get some answers.
“So do you think Wil might come back to the rez to visit with Lev?”
Kele moves his knight and is promptly captured by Grace’s queen. “You did that on purpose to distract me!” Kele accuses.
Connor shrugs. “Just asking a question. If Wil and Lev are such good friends, he’d come back to see him, wouldn’t he?”
Kele sighs, never looking up from the board. “Wil was unwound.”
Which doesn’t make sense to Connor. “But I thought ChanceFolk don’t unwind.”
Finally Kele looks up at him. His gaze is like an accusation. “We don’t,” Kele says, then returns to the game.
“So then how—”
“If you wanna know, then talk to Lev; he was there too.”
Then Grace captures one of Kele’s rooks, and Kele flips the board in frustration, sending pieces flying. “You eat squirrel!” he shouts at Grace, who laughs.
“Who’s low-cortical now?” she gloats.
Kele storms off once more, but not before throwing Connor a glare that has nothing to do with the game.
20 • Lev
Lev sits in shadow on the terrace, looking out at the canyon. It’s nowhere near as dramatic as the great gorge that separates Arápache land from the rest of Colorado, but the canyon is impressive in its own way. Across the dry stream bed, the homes carved into the face of the opposing cliff are filled with dramatic late-afternoon shadows and activity. Children play on terraces with no protective rails, laughing as they climb up and down rope ladders in pursuit of one another. When he was first here, he was horrified, but he quickly came to learn that no one ever fell. Arápache children learn a great respect for gravity at an early age.
