Free Black Dog by Rachel Neumeier Page B

eyes. He did not know what to say – anyway Ezekiel was listening. In the end, after the verdugo unlocked and opened the cage door, he stepped into the cage without saying anything at all. Neither he nor his shadow liked being forced to pass so close to Ezekiel, and the silver on the bars made the feeling of being cornered worse still. He tried not to flinch.
    Miguel’s too-perceptive gaze flicked from the Dimilioc verdugo to Alejandro’s face. “ Te hizo daño ?” he asked in Spanish. Did he hurt you ? He did not whisper, but he spoke quietly, and the soft, even rhythm of Natividad’s breathing did not change.
    Alejandro shrugged. He wanted to say, “ Be careful .” He wanted to remind Miguel that lots of Americans understood Spanish – not so many this far into the frozen north, but still, one should be careful. But after all, what did it matter? After that first hesitation, he said, “ Estoy bien . Lo sé– ”
    Ezekiel said briskly, “That’s enough! You, out you come. Let’s go.”
    Alejandro moved aside so that his brother could pass by. He wanted to say to his brother, “ You’ll do well, you’ll be alright; watch out for anger, he will use your anger as a weapon against you .” But he did not know what test or interrogation Grayson Lanning might have in mind for his human brother, and anyway, he did not dare offer any advice or reassurance after Ezekiel had ordered him silent.
    And Miguel saw that he did not dare. A wary anger came into his eyes. His mouth tightened, and he glanced sidelong at Ezekiel’s face.
    Ezekiel, of course, saw both the wariness and the anger. “Save it till it might do you some good,” he told Miguel, clearly amused, and shut the cage door behind the boy. He did not slam the door, but even so, metal rang against metal as the door swung to. Even then, however, Natividad did not wake.
    Alejandro looked down at his sister, at the hollows of her face – last year she had not had those hollows; last year her wrists had not been so thin nor her bones so prominent. She had lost too much of her strength in the grief and terror of their flight from Mexico. And she was thinner now than even those few days ago.
    Looking up, he said abruptly to Ezekiel, who had just turned to follow Miguel up the stairs, “She’s tired. She ought to be left alone tonight.”
    Ezekiel turned back, one eyebrow rising. Alejandro looked aside. But he also said stubbornly, “You should leave her alone until morning.”
    The Dimilioc executioner glanced past him at the slight figure on the cot. Then he shrugged. It was a wry shrug with more than a touch of mockery to it, but it was not unfriendly. “I agree with you. But it’s not my decision.”
    Alejandro said nothing. He watched Ezekiel turn and follow Miguel up the stairs and through the door at the top. That door shut, quietly. Then there was only silence, and the dark, and the quiet sound of his sister’s breath. He knelt down on the floor by her cot, drawing comfort from that sound.
    Alejandro was sure that the Dimilioc wolves would not kill Miguel. Not now, not tonight – not at all, if they wanted to keep Natividad. He was sure of it.
    He had told Grayson that he had persuaded his brother and sister to trespass into the very heart of Dimilioc territory. But who knew what Miguel would say if Grayson asked him about that? Alejandro should have claimed responsibility again, should have made the Dimilioc wolves all believe that the offense was his fault. He had been frightened, like a child. He had forgotten he needed to protect Miguel. How could he have forgotten?
    He rested his forehead against the wool of the blankets that covered Natividad, listening. He heard nothing but his sister’s even breaths, her heartbeat. His own, muffled by his shadow. Which, cowed by this silent cell with its silver-bound bars, was tenuous and very quiet.