by Kim Liggett
Rhys took a step back like he was stunned to hear me say it out loud, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Then we need to find a doctor.”
I reached for his hands. “Mom did what she could to help me, but the only cure for being a conduit is death. And I don’t want die in some cage—in some hospital. I want to be here, in Quivira, where I belong.”
Rhys squeezed my hands. “Mom may have wanted to come back here, but she didn’t want this for us. You’re my sister, Ash. My twin. I can take care of you.” He looked at me pleadingly.
“You have Beth and Henry to take of now.” I glanced back at the two of them as they tried hard not to listen. “And I have Dane.”
He let go of my hands. “You shouldn’t count on Dane.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” I asked. “What’s he done to you?”
“He’s using you,” Rhys said matter-of-factly, raising his chin.
“Using me for what?” I asked, feeling completely spent.
“Besides the obvious? I don’t know yet, but I don’t plan on hanging around with him long enough to find out. And neither should you.”
“You’re wrong about him,” I whispered as I descended the stairs.
“Ash,” he called after me.
I paused, looking up at him, hoping for a bit of forgiveness, some understanding, but his eyes were dark—darker than my mother’s when she dug the bone needle into my flesh.
“You should know, I’m staying up here tonight.” He nodded toward the front door.
“What, you’re going to guard the door? You can’t stop me from seeing Dane.”
“I know you have your mind set on self-destruction, but if you care anything for me, for Beth or Henry, you’ll stay away from him until the solstice. He’s the one person who can get us out of this hellhole. If you’re caught with him, we’ll never leave.”
I ran down the stairs to my mother’s room.
As soon as I closed the door, I felt the ribbon stir against my neck. “Not now.” I clenched my arms to my chest trying to dampen the feelings, but another presence surged through my bloodstream, like a powerful narcotic. When I thought of my brother, guarding the door, I started to panic. There was no stopping me when the memories took over. I punched Dane in the face last night. If Rhys tried to get in my way, I had no idea what I was capable of. I’d never been so afraid of my own body.
I tried to hang on to the present, but my mind raced—Dane caressing my hip, Beth whispering she would protect my secret, Katia’s golden blade pulsing in her hand, the grainy image of Heartbreak Tree—until my thoughts turned to nightmares.
The deep hum in my bloodstream would not be denied.
Staring out the window at the dark water, I knew it wouldn’t be long.
Without another thought, I opened the window and escaped into the night.
As I ran through the woods, I felt myself losing ground, losing myself, until I finally disintegrated into another time.
36
IN TOO DEEP
AT THE EDGE of the sacred circle, I peer between the stalks. Dread presses down on me, crushing me, holding me in place. In the center of the circle there’s a dark pit, like a gaping mouth into another world. Just the sight of it brings the taste of blood and bile to my mouth. I don’t need to get any closer to know the crevice is deep, I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.
A chill rushes over my skin as I realize I’m not alone.
Something’s moving inside the chasm. A sound like jagged fingernails digging into rock—crumbling black shale mixed with the noxious scent of blood.
Whatever’s inside that crevice carries a darkness—something that wants to ooze inside of me to snuff out any other light.
I’m so close I can hear the low gurgling sound in the back of its throat, like a dripping wet death rattle.
• • •
“Ashlyn,” Dane’s voice whispered, pulling me back from the edge of terror.
I came to, standing in the corn, naked, covered in blood, clutching a knife.
“It’s me. You’re safe.” Dane pried the knife from my clenched fist. My knees buckled, like they’d been locked in place for hours.
He swept me up in his arms, carrying me through the corn, back toward Quivira.
“What have I done?” I asked in a hoarse voice, staring down at my trembling hands, slick with blood. But there were no wounds.
“You found my knife . . . the one I lost in the corn.”
“Did I hurt you?” I felt woozy as I searched his skin for damage, but the only thing I found was a small cut on his hand, a defensive wound.
“You just grazed me,” he assured me.
“But all this blood—”
“You’re the daughter of the vessels and a conduit. You probably cut yourself and healed back up again before I found you.”
“Why would I cut myself?”
“Conduits have a tendency toward self-mutilation.”
Confusion washed over me and I buried my face into his chest. “How long have I been out?”
“Almost six hours. You’re getting better at evading me, but as soon as you looked into my eyes, as soon as I said your name, you came back.” He smiled down at me and for the first time I realized I was naked, in his arms, but too exhausted to care. These episodes were taking everything out of me.
“I don’t know what happened,” I whispered, “but I was right there, standing on the edge of the sacred circle. I was ready to step inside, when it felt like I was being ripped away.”
“I stopped you from entering the circle,” Dane admitted, his eyes focused on the ground in front of us.
“Why?”
“I won’t be able to reach you once you’re inside. Only Katia’s blood can pass. You’d be completely on your own.”
“But there’s something there. I can feel it. Whatever Marie wants to show me . . . it’s inside that circle.” I held his face in my hands, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “Promise you won’t stop me next time.”
He stared ahead, his brow knotted up with worry. “I promise,” he whispered.
As soon as we emerged from the corn, into a stretch of woods, I felt like I could breathe again. The air no longer held that metallic edge of adrenaline-spiked blood. The oxygen going in and out of my lungs took the conduit feelings far away from me. Almost as if they’d never been there at all.
There wasn’t a clear path leading through the dense wooded area, but Dane seemed to know where he was going. We stepped out of the trees and into a small, secluded cove. Slashes of pink and gold painted the surface of the water, reflecting the majesty of the sun rising over the endless sea of corn.
Dane waded me into the salt lake, gently dipping me in. The pearlescent water clouded into soft billows of pink as he smoothed the blood away from my arms, my neck. Now I felt naked. My skin prickled up in goose bumps.
“I’m sorry if it’s cold,” he said.
“It’s not cold,” I said, meeting his gaze.
I drifted from his arms, completely submerging myself. It was so peaceful below, not a sound, not a care. When I could no longer hold my breath, I came up to the surface to find the air thick with strawberries, musk, sandalwood, and fertile earth.
Everything inside of me reached out for him. Even the blunt edge of the black silk ribbon tied around my neck drifted toward him longingly. I was no longer merely existing or surviving—I’d never felt more . . . alive.
“If I gave you my blood, would you be able to follow me inside the sacred circle?” I asked as I swam around him, my heart pounding at the memory of Katia giving her blood to Alonso. “Then I wouldn’t have to be alone.”
“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” he said as he stood in the waist-deep water, following me with his eyes. “But I’m honored you’d consider sharing that with me.”
I took in a steeling breath as I planted my feet into the soft clay floor and stood tall, exposing my upper body to the humid air. It was so quiet; the only sound came from the last few drops of opal liquid that dripped from my navel back into the water.
Slowly, he closed the distance between us. Though he still wore all his clothes, so little separated us now.
It seemed like an eternity before his penetrating eyes met mine again, and when they did, they no longer held any doubts.
Dane reached for the ribbon draped between my breasts, and coiled it around his fingers.
I felt the slight pressure of it straining against my neck, but not enough to pull it from the bow.
“You can pull harder,” I said. “You can’t hurt me.”
“You’re wrong.” Dane held me close. “I can hurt you,” he whispered in my ear, “but I don’t want to.”
He kissed me so delicately it felt like a feather brushing my lips. I twined my fingers in his thick hair, and he kissed me harder this time, his tongue dancing on mine. A surge of warmth radiated down from the top of my head, settling deep inside of me.
He pulled me closer, lifting me from the water, his fingers digging into the backs of my thighs. My body trembled. I wanted him to crush me—consume me, body and soul. I took in a gasping breath when Dane suddenly let go of me, lowering me back into the water.
“Is she naked?” Lauren screeched.
Lauren and Brennon stood on the shore, looking on in disbelief. Dane stepped protectively in front of me. I pressed my face between his shoulder blades, feeling a deep shudder run through him.
“What are you doing here?” Dane asked.
“I could ask you the same, but that’s pretty obvious,” she replied, hands on her hips, staring daggers into me. “Where are her clothes?”
“We lost them,” Dane admitted, a beautiful flush creeping over his collar.
“You lost them?” Lauren chuckled darkly. “That’s rich.” She sighed. “Brennon, give me your shirt.”
Brennon fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt and handed it over. Lauren tossed the shirt over the water. Dane snatched it out of the air and helped me put it on. The cotton stuck to my wet skin like cellophane, but it was large enough to cover the parts that mattered.
“Brennon, take the princess back to her castle and don’t let her out of your sight until the solstice. And you”—she pointed at Dane—“you’re coming with me.”
I slipped my fingers through his in defiance.
“I can take her back myself,” Dane announced.
“Really?” Lauren laughed. “You’re going to take her back to the Larkin lodge looking like that? The whole community’s waiting for her there.”
“Why?”
“Some kind of emergency,” Brennon said.
I sprung out of the water. “Is my mother here?”
“Not yet,” Brennon said.
“Is Rhys okay?”
“Your brother’s fine,” Lauren snapped. “He’s been looking for you, though—worried sick.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “You shouldn’t be here. If anyone knew about the two of you, Dane would be—”
“It’s my fault,” I said. I couldn’t bear to hear her finish the thought. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Dane walked me to the shore, his hand resting on my lower back. He pulled me close. “As soon as you’re ready, I’ll meet you by the corn beyond the prairie grass. I won’t interfere again. I promise.”
As I watched him walk away from me, slipping into the woods, I felt something break inside of me.
That’s when I knew.
I loved him.
I was all in—blood and salt.
37
HENRY
BRENNON AND I WALKED to the Larkin lodge in uncomfortable silence. The warmth of his gray eyes had hardened into brushed steel. As we broke through the trees, he gripped my hand. I tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” I pleaded. “It’s not Dane’s fault.”
When I saw the crowd of people gathered on the lawn, my stomach coiled in knots. It felt like I was walking directly into a hornet’s nest.
“Where have you two been all night?” Mrs. Mendoza sighed as she led us toward a group of people swarming around the entry, but she held her head high, as if she were proud.
“Sorry, we lost track of time,” Brennon announced loud enough for everyone to hear. “Did you see the stars last night?” He grinned at me in that perfect Brennon way and I almost believed him myself. This was the nicest thing he could’ve done for me, but I was a little unnerved by how easily he switched on the charm.
Everyone stared at us briefly, then glanced away, almost out of respect. Seeing us in this way, Brennon shirtless, me wearing nothing but his shirt, seemed more than acceptable. It seemed expected.
After making sure they got an eyeful, Brennon steered me toward my brother and Beth, who sat slumped on a quiet corner of the lawn.
“We’ve been looking for you all night.” Beth jumped to her feet and hugged me.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Rhys raised his head to look at me and I knew something was very wrong. His eyes were bloodshot, his hands trembled as he pointed toward the walkway. I turned to see people carrying what looked like a mummy on a strange-looking wooden stretcher.
“Another person died?” I asked. “Who?”
“Henry,” Rhys murmured, his chin quivering. “Henry is dead.”
It felt like I’d been kicked in the throat. “How?”
“The same way Betsy and Tommy died,” Beth answered as she placed her hand on my brother’s shoulder.
“There was so much blood.” Rhys looked like he was going to be sick.
“Blood?” I inhaled sharply. “When did this happen?”
“Sometime during the night,” Beth said.
A terrible thought crept into my mind. Could I have done this? I came out of my blackout, in the corn holding a knife, covered in blood. Could it have been Henry’s blood? I dragged my hands through my hair, trying to scrape my brain for any memory. Dane told me he’d seen conduits do miraculous and frightening things in the throes of their ancestor’s memories. Was Dane just trying to protect me?
“I’m not going to stand watch over you,” Brennon whispered through gritted teeth. “We should be happy. We’ve earned that right. This isn’t the old days.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I couldn’t deal with this right now.
“I need to change my clothes,” I muttered as I hurried into the house and down the stairs to my room. I wanted to close the door on everything, but when I got there I found Spencer Mendoza waiting.
“What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same question. You shouldn’t even be here anymore.” Spencer circled me like a shark testing its prey. “Where were you last night? And, Ashlyn, don’t insult my intelligence by telling me you were with Brennon.” The way he said my name was revolting.
“It’s true . . . ask any—”
“You think you’re so sly,” Spencer sneered as he stalked toward me. “But I can smell my bastard son all over you. Katia won’t stand for it. You know what must be done.”
I felt the ribbon stir against my neck and a familiar dark feeling took over. I didn’t even try to suppress it this time, I used it. I charged him, slamming him up against the wall. “If you tell anyone . . . or if you lay a finger on Dane, God help you.” The ribbon slithered free of the bow to coil around his neck. As it cinched tighter and tighter, power surged in my bloodstream like a drug. And I didn’t
want to stop it. I wanted to kill him.
Spencer grunted, bubbles of saliva speckling the corners of his mouth as he fumbled for something in his breast pocket. A flash of steel. He lashed out at me, swiping the blade across my throat—the sharp pain stunned me. I staggered back. The black silk ribbon went slack as the rage poured out of me along with my life.
38
FERVOR
GRASPING AT MY THROAT, I clawed for air, but it was slit wide open.
Blind with terror, I heard Spencer moving around me, digging through my mother’s belongings.
Reaching out for anything to grab hold of—my hand grazed Spencer’s pant leg, but my hands were too slick with blood, my body too weak to hang on.
As I lay there dying, a tingling warmth spread throughout my body. My skin began to pulse, but it wasn’t my skin, it was something deeper than that. I felt raw energy rising inside of me like a powerful wave gaining strength. I wasn’t sure if it was real or if I was having an out-of-body experience, so when my lungs filled with air, I reached for my throat, feeling smooth wet skin. Exhaling a ragged breath, I got to my feet, strong and very much alive.
Spencer’s eyes went wide as he pressed himself against the wall. He was holding something behind his back. “How? It’s not possible . . . it can’t be . . . it’s you . . .”
“Ash?” Rhys called from the top of the stairs.
As Spencer took off running down the hall, I bolted into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Panicked, I stripped off Brennon’s blood-soaked shirt and pumped water into the tub.
I couldn’t let my brother see me like this.
Rhys banged on the door.
“I’ll be right out,” I said, getting into the tub.
“Ash, are you okay? What happened down here? There’s blood everywhere.”
“It’s nothing.” I said, frantically soaking the shirt and using it to scrub away the evidence on my body. I wanted to scrub it all away—the symbols, Katia’s touch, her scent, Marie’s heartache, Teresa’s haunting words. And what did Spencer mean when he said, “It’s you”?
Feeling dizzy, I crouched down, clutching the sides of the white cast-iron tub. I stuck my head under the water, feeling it beat down against my back, trailing into my eyes, my nose, and my mouth, then lifted my chin to the ceiling, heaving for air.