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.
“We built America’s great bridges and skyscrapers,” Wil had told him proudly. “For us, balance is a matter of pride.”
Lev knew he had meant that in many ways—and nowhere in his own life had Lev felt more balanced than when he was here at the rez. But it was also here that he was thrown so off-kilter that he chose to become a clapper. He hopes that maybe he can find some of the peace he once had, if only for a little while. Yet he knows he’s not entirely welcome. Even now, he sees adults across the canyon eying him as he sits there. From this distance, he can’t tell if it’s with suspicion or just curiosity.
Lev’s shoulder itches, and there’s a faint throbbing with every beat of his heart. His left side feels hot and heavy, but the pain he had felt in the car has subsided to a dull ache that only sharpens when he moves too fast. He has not seen Connor or Grace since awakening. As long as he knows they’re all right, he’s fine with that. In a way, his life has been compartmentalized into discrete little boxes. His life as a tithe, his life as a clapper, his life as a fugitive, and his life on the rez. He had been here for only a few weeks that first time, but the experience looms large for him. The idea of merging this delicate oasis of his life with the rest of his tumultuous existence is something he must get used to.
“When the council cast you out, it broke my heart.”
Lev turns to see Elina coming out onto the terrace, carrying a tray with a teapot and a mug, setting it down on a small table.
“I knew you weren’t responsible for what happened to Wil,” she tells him, “but there was a lot of anger back then.”
“But not now?”
She sits in the chair beside his and hands him a mug of steaming tea instead of answering. “Drink. It’s getting chilly.”
Lev sips his tea. Bitter herbs sweetened with honey. No doubt a potent brew of healing steeped by the modern medicine woman.
“Does the council know I’m here?”
She hesitates. “Not officially.”
“If they know officially, will they cast me out again?”
Unlike her tea, her answer is honest and unsweetened. “Maybe. I don’t know for sure. Feelings about you are mixed. When you became a clapper, some people thought it heroic.”
“Did you?”
“No,” she says coldly, then with much more warmth says, “I knew you had lost your way.”