"That is one of the many things we don't know about the Reapers. According to the theories out of this group that studies them down in Arkansas, how much they need "to eat depends on how active they and their Master are. We think a lot of times the Kurians have about half their Hoods shut down. This is just guesswork, but the fewer Reapers a Kurian has to control, the better he can control them. Sometimes when he's trying to work all thirteen at once, they just turn into eating machines and do stupid stuff like forget to get in out of the daylight. But the Kurian can't control too few, either. He takes a risk when he does that. If the link for feeding vital auras to the Kurian Lord gets shut down, like say if he's got only one Reaper left and it gets killed, we think the Kurian dies with it."
Molly rewrapped the thick reins in her hand. "That's interesting. It's funny to just be able to talk about them with somebody. Discussing the Kurians is a taboo subject here. Too easy to say the wrong thing. So a Reaper can be killed?"
"Yes," Valentine said, "but you need to put that at the top of your 'easier said than done' list. I've seen six trained men pump rifle bullets into one at a range of about ten feet, and all it did was slow it down. Of course, those robes they wear protect them a lot. If they're hurt, you can behead them. A lot of times we're satisfied just to blow them up or cripple them so they can't move around much and they're easier to finish off. But again, even catching one where you can gang up on it is hard. They're usually active only at night, and they see better than us, hear better than us, and so on."
"So how do you do it?"
"It's a long story. Kind of hard to believe, too, unless it's happened to you. Now I know I've told you there are also people like the Kurians, but they're on our side."
"Yes, the... Lifeweavers."
"Good, yes, you have it. Long time ago, I think we worshiped them, and made them out to be gods. But they have the ability to awaken latent... I don't know, I guess you'd call them powers... within a human. About four thousand years ago, they made it very totemistic so the people would accept what these gods or wizards or whatever were doing. "The spirit of a wolf is in you.""
"Can they do it with anyone?"
"I don't know. The Lifeweavers select you for it, I know that much. Down in the Ozark Free Territory, they have three kinds of warriors they create, each named for an animal.
Maybe they use different animals elsewhere, like lions in Africa maybe. We're called the Hunters. We all carry a blade of some kind to finish off the Reapers. In the Wolves we just use a short, broad-bladed knife. It's a very handy tool in the woods, too. The Wolves are like the cavalry. We move fast from place to place, scout out the enemy troops, and fight guerrilla actions, mostly. There's lots of Wolves. Those Cats are spies, assassins, and saboteurs. I don't know about the Cat training, seems like they're just really, really good Wolves who prefer to work alone. I've known only one Cat. They go into the Kurian areas and mess with the Reapers. Maybe there's one around here somewhere. But if there is, he or she probably doesn't know I'm around. As I told you, I was just running the mail up to Lake Michigan. Then there are the Bears. They're the meanest bunch of bad-asses in the Southern Command, I can say for certain. I don't know what the Life weavers do to the Bears to make them the way they are, but I've heard of a single Bear taking on three Reapers and killing them all. They're like human tanks. We Wolves always make room for them at the bar when they come in."
They listened to the clip-clop of hoofbeats. Luckily it was an asphalt road, with only a few gravel stretches. The Morgan trotted steadily behind at the end of his lead, enjoying his exercise. Molly slowed the buggy to a walk and let the horse breathe, to give the rest of the family a chance to catch up a little in the plodding wagon.
"Do you win often?" Molly asked. "I mean, actually go out and beat the Reapers?"
"Sometimes. The Ozarks are still free, aren't they? But it costs people. Good people," Valentine said, remembering.
"Don't think about that too much," she suggested. It makes you look all old and tired. You're what, twenty?"
"I feel older. Maybe it's all the miles."
Now it was Molly's turn to be lost in thought. "You beat them," she ruminated. "We've always been told you just hide out up in the mountains. Starving to death in winter, stuff like that. Even the lodges, our organization for getting people out of the Triumvirate's reach, discourage anyone from going down there."
"It's a long trip," Valentine agreed. "Long and dangerous."
"You must really trust us, David. I could turn you in and get a brass ring for sure. A Wolf, an officer even, they'd love that. Uncle Mike would shit himself to death if he knew. He even gave you a work card." She giggled.
"At first I didn't have much of a choice except to trust you. Seemed like we were going to get caught anyway. Gonzalez wanted me to leave him, but I couldn't do that. Now I'm glad I gambled."
She cocked her head and smiled. "Why?"
Valentine shook his head and averted his eyes. That smile was irresistible. "Father Max used to say, "Women and six-year-olds never run out of questions.""
"Only because men and four-year-olds never have the right answers," she countered.
"Listen to you," Valentine laughed.
"C'mon, I mean it, David, why are you glad? Do you like this little charade we're playing, the courtship thing?"
At the word charade, Valentine felt a glass splinter pierce his heart. He forcibly brightened his voice. "It's been fun, sure. I've enjoyed talking to you, being around your family. I haven't had a family since I was little."
Molly started the horse again at a slow walk. "I've had fun, too, David. Sometimes I can't tell if it's a role that I'm playing or not. I'm almost sorry it has to end. Not that I want to bring a baseball team of your kids into the world to win a brass ring, of course."
"Of course," Valentine agreed. I'm sorry it has to end, too, he added mentally.
Back at the Carlsons' home that night, Valentine and Gonzalez talked in the basement. Valentine told him about the pep talk that took place at the tent and the funny look he received from the speaker.
"I don't know, Val. All the more reason to get out of town soon. You don't think it's going to look suspicious if we just disappear?"
"No, I already talked about that with Mr. Carlson. He's going to say Molly and I didn't get along, and we took off for parts unknown after a big argument. How's that arm-can you ride yet?"