Relic

by Renee Collins

  “Marry?”

  “Yes!”

  I hugged her again. “Oh, Adelaide, I’m so happy for you!”

  “Isn’t it the most wonderful news?”

  “What about Connelly? Are you going to sneak away?”

  “Don’t have to. Bobby sent his entire savings by wire. Five thousand dollars! He says that ought to cover any contract I have.”

  “What did Connelly say about that?”

  “Well, he seemed real resistant at first. And for a minute there, I swore he was gonna rip that money up and lock me in my room. But then he cooled off and said all right!”

  “You don’t say.”

  She nodded. “Can you believe it? He said I just had to see one last big-money client, and then I’d be done forever. I tell you, I feel so happy I could bust.”

  I smiled, but a nagging thought tugged at me. It didn’t seem much like Connelly. Even if Bobby had wired a hundred thousand dollars, anyone with any reasonable business sense could see that Adelaide could and would bring in more money by staying, with her performances and high roller clientele. I didn’t say anything, though—maybe I was wrong. Maybe Connelly had some other girl in mind to take her place. Some sad, poor new recruit from the depot.

  “I’m finally leavin’ this dump,” Adelaide said, going back to her packing. “I swear, I thought this day would never come.”

  “I’m thrilled for you, I really am. I hope you two are very happy.”

  “Why don’t you come with me, Maggie? Landon’s there in Green Springs. Maybe you and him could get married, too!”

  I laughed. “Well, actually, it’s funny you should mention me coming with you.”

  Adelaide raised an eyebrow, and I told her my plan. When I was finished, she cheered and hugged me again.

  “This is perfect! We’ll go together! It’ll be a new life, Maggie. Me and you and Bobby and Landon.”

  “And Ella?”

  She laughed. “Sure, why not? We’ll all live together in one big house and be happy as a bunch of rabbits.”

  I had to smile at the dream, though a part of me almost didn’t dare imagine it. To have a family again. To stop hurting. Was it possible?

  “What do you think?” Adelaide asked, holding up a beautiful cream-colored gown. “Make a good wedding dress?”

  “Perfect,” Connelly said.

  Adelaide and I both spun around. He stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, an ugly smirk on his face. Tom hovered behind him in the shadows of the hallway.

  “What do you want?” Adelaide asked.

  “Looks like you’re all ready to go, ain’t ya?” he said, ignoring her question. “Well, well, well, guess my little bird is finally ready to leave the nest.”

  “What do you want?” she asked again, more pointedly.

  “Your last client’s here.”

  “Oh.” Adelaide paused, but then laughed once with a forced air of indifference. “Well, he’s an eager fella, isn’t he? It’s not even noon.”

  Connelly shrugged.

  “All right.” Adelaide sighed. “Send him in, I guess. I won’t have time to primp, so he’ll have to take me as I am.”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  Connelly stepped into the room with this strange little smile, and a surge of warning splashed over me. Adelaide must have felt the same, by the way she stared at him. Slowly, he reached into the breast pocket of his vest and drew out a wad of bills. He waved the cash in the air.

  Adelaide’s voice sounded very small. “What’s that for?”

  “Payment,” Connelly said. “I’ve been saving up for some time for this.”

  Adelaide’s face drained of color. He stepped closer to her, slowly, like a spider approaching his prey.

  “Did you honestly think I would let my most valuable commodity go for five thousand lousy dollars?”

  She was silent, paralyzed.

  “Did you think I’d let you flit off to some worthless cowboy, just because you fancy you’ve fallen in love?”

  He grabbed her by the arm, and horror filled me. I made a move for her, but Tom caught me by the wrist.

  “Let go!” I glared at Connelly. “Don’t you touch her.”

  But he didn’t pay any attention to me. Holding Adelaide close by the arm, he pressed the wad of cash to her cheek. She winced but didn’t move. Connelly dragged the cash down her face, her neck. “You belong to me. You will always belong to me.”

  “Let go of her!” I shouted, furious. “Take your dirty hands off—”

  “Get that brat out of here,” Connelly snarled.

  “No!” I fought hard, but Tom pinned my arms behind my back.

  “You can’t do this!” I yelled. “Leave her alone, Connelly, you bastard!”

  But Tom was dragging me out of the room. I kicked and fought with everything in me, screaming, but Tom was too strong. The last thing I saw before he pulled me through the doorframe was Adelaide. Connelly’s hand was wrapped around her throat, but she was looking at me.

  I expected to see fear or anger or sadness in her eyes. But there was only broken, worn-down submission.

  “Adelaide!” I called as Tom dragged me down the hall.

  The other girls’ doors were cracked open. Fearful eyes watched from the shadows.

  “Help her!” I screamed. But no one moved.

  Tom threw me into one of the empty rooms at the end of the hall and slammed the door shut. The lock clicked into place. I pounded hard, hammering my fists on the cruel wood.

  “Adelaide!”

  I sank to my knees on the floor, my fist pressed to the door. “I’m so sorry.”

  Three days they kept me in that room. But no matter how long I pounded or how loud I screamed, no one let me out. Tom slid food in without a word, and that was the only contact with others I had. They even locked the window to keep me from screaming out to the people on the streets. I was trapped like an animal.

  In desperation, I tried to invoke my importance to Álvar, but Tom let me know in no uncertain terms that Álvar knew I was there. I had nothing. In despair, I thought to use the relic in the jar—evil or not, if I could use it, I’d be free—but it was probably long gone. Esperanza had probably snatched it up first thing when she heard I was gone and proudly delivered it to Connelly. No relic could save me.

  As the sky outside my window darkened on the third day, I slumped on the floor against my bed, holding my arms around my knees. I was exhausted, though I knew I couldn’t sleep. Worn down, though I still burned with rage.

  A draft of cold wind tossed my curtains in a ripple over my bed. I rubbed my arms and turned to see if the window had a crack or something, when I noticed a wisp of white shadow drifting in through the glass. A coil of lightness, almost like smoke, except it carried a faint glow. My eyes widened. I staggered backward to my feet.

  The shadow spread and curled in with the wind. It drifted to the center of my room, rippling. Breathless, I stared as it expanded and stretched upward until it formed a vague shape.

  The shape of a man.

  My back was to the vanity table. I groped behind me, my eyes fixed on the shadow, and grabbed for something to hit it with. Whatever it was, whoever had sent it, I wasn’t going to stand there like a sitting duck if it meant me harm. But then, like the tremor of a morning wind, a voice drifted out of the shadow.

  “Maggie. We must talk.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, sounding far more forceful than I felt.

  The features of the shadow began to sharpen. A face formed and I recognized it immediately.

  “Moon John? How are you doing this?”

  “Wraith relic. Another one of those illegal shadow relics no one is supposed to have. But in this case, it had to be used.”

  An arrow of hope cut through me. “Can you get me out of here?”

  “I cannot. I have tried, but Mr. Connelly has locked off the entire upstairs floor, and all of the girls in it.”

  My breath caught. “Adelaide.
Is Adelaide all right?”

  “I do not know.”

  “What about my sister? Please tell me she’s safe.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know nothing.”

  The past three days had been consumed with worry for Adelaide and Ella. And now I finally had word from the outside, but still no information about either of them.

  “I have very little time,” Moon John said, his image flickering.

  “Why did you come?”

  “Another town has burned.”

  My heart sank, and then fear gripped me. I ran up to the shadowy form of Moon John. I’d have shaken him by the shoulders if I could. “The Apaches. What about the Apaches? Have they hanged them?”

  “Not yet.”

  I sank down with relief, catching myself on the edge of my bed. “Thank God.”

  “Listen to me carefully, Maggie. I have studied these razings, and I believe that if we find which relic is being used, we can find who is responsible.”

  “You don’t believe the Apaches are involved?”

  “No. Whoever is burning those towns is using a very powerful fire relic. The Apaches shun the use of such things.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell people, but no one believes me!”

  “People believe what is easy to believe. They wish for someone to blame, and so they reach for the fastest answer.”

  “You’ve got that right. So who do you think is to blame? I have a few ideas.”

  “As do I.” The shadowy image of Moon John moved closer. “But listen to me. The reason I have risked visiting you tonight is to talk with you about the relic you brought in to the registry. You must give it to me. I believe it has powerful fire magic, such as might be used in the razings.”

  The image of that red, shadowy relic flashed in my mind. So beautiful, so powerful, so dark. It had warmed in my hand to form a necklace and brightened the lamp in Landon’s room. A fire relic. A fire relic that could burn an entire town. Chills ran up the back of my neck, followed by a flash of panic. “I don’t have it anymore.”

  Moon John was silent.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I tried to hide it. But I think that dog Mr. Connelly had my room searched. I’d bet anything he had his spy steal it.”

  “This is very bad. Very bad.”

  Lightning shot through me. “Do you think he knows what it is? Do you think he might be involved with the razings?”

  Even as I spoke them, the words rang darkly true. How could I have not seen it before? If I knew of any person evil enough to burn an entire town, it would be Connelly.

  “He has to be involved,” I said. “Somehow.”

  Moon John’s image nodded slowly “But Mr. Connelly could not do this alone.”

  “Emerson Bolger.”

  The pieces slowly clicked together in my mind. I remembered Mr. Bolger and Mr. Connelly sneaking through the shadows of the Hacienda, whispering hushed threats. And the papers I’d read on Bolger’s desk with an exact description of the dark red relic.

  “The two of them are in it together. They’re blackmailing Álvar Castilla for his lands. They’re trying to scare him into cooperating!”

  Moon John’s silence betrayed doubt.

  “You don’t think Álvar’s actually part of it, do you?” I said. “Look, he’s far from perfect, but he’s not a murderer.”

  “He is the most powerful man for miles. And he has many men working for him, men who may be evil, such as Mr. Connelly.”

  “But he wouldn’t let anyone do that under his nose.”

  Moon John’s gaze was sharp. “Indeed not. Surely a man of his position is no less than the leader of such an undertaking.”

  In my mind I could see the group of men slipping quietly through the secret passageway in the Hacienda, with Álvar in the lead. I sank into the chair by the vanity, my mind running like a wild stallion. I thought of the raging debts, the miners—his miners—working their fingers to the bone to find him relics that would solve his problems. And what had they found? A fire relic of terrible power.

  His words echoed in my mind. You owe me, Maggie. And I will collect on that debt. He’d said he needed my talents to help him. But to help him save the towns or destroy them?

  “But why? Why would he do such a thing?”

  An answer sat before me in the darkness. His debts. Perhaps Álvar thought the only way to clear out all that debt was to eliminate his creditors.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I can’t believe he would do it.”

  “Even a decent man can be capable of great evil when he wishes to hold onto great power.”

  It felt like the walls were closing in, like I couldn’t catch one good breath. “But what about Emerson Bolger? He knew about the relic. I found a letter describing it in his room.”

  Moon John shook his head. “I do not know what this means.”

  “It means maybe you got the wrong man!”

  “No. There are many things that do not add up, Maggie. Something vast and dark has taken hold here, and nothing makes perfect sense.”

  “Well, what if it’s neither man? What if the real culprit is someone completely different?”

  “Anything is possible.” After a pause, Moon John spoke again, his voice soft. “If I were you, I would forget this matter. I would get out of this town while you still can. Take your sister and go. And do not look back.”

  I scoffed. “Well, I have to get out of this room first, don’t I?”

  “You will. Mr. Connelly will let you out to serve the men who are already pouring into Burning Mesa.”

  “What men?”

  “Men from other counties and towns. Word of the new razing has already spread. This time, they will not wait to act.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A mob has formed to attack the Apaches.”

  I’d heard the threats so many times, yet the certainty in Moon John’s voice made my blood run cold. “But they can’t. They don’t know where the camp is.”

  “They will find a way. Álvar Castilla is helping them to cover up his own evil deeds. If he can convince the people of Burning Mesa and this state that the true culprits have been killed, then all will agree that justice has been done, and he will be free.”

  “It could just as well be Emerson Bolger.” I wasn’t ready to give up on my theory, not when that dark, nagging feeling refused to go away. “He’s helping the mob, too, isn’t he? He was there the day they met in The Desert Rose.”

  Moon John shook his head. “Yes, but that could mean anything.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Whoever’s behind it has to be stopped. I’ll tell everyone the truth.”

  “You should do no such thing,” Moon John warned. “If you care about the welfare of your sister, you must leave as soon as you can.”

  I hugged my arms around me, feeling dizzy and sick in the heart. “I was planning to leave. I was going to take her with me to Green Springs. Start fresh. I have a good friend there.”

  Moon John was silent, but I could see his expression fall.

  “What?” I asked, rising out of the chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “Maggie, my child, Green Springs was the town that was burned two days ago. It’s gone. No one survived.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Grief has a way of consuming even the smallest things in life. Color, sound, smell. I couldn’t sense any of it as I mindlessly wiped the tables down in the saloon, poured more coffee, and cleared away plates. Just as Moon John predicted, Tom had let me out of my room the next morning, tossed an apron at me, and ordered me to serve the influx of customers. Men and women clustered at the tables, eating, drinking, and talking in low, nervous tones about their desire to attack the Apache camp. I served them without hearing or seeing them.

  I’d gone to check on Adelaide soon as Tom let me out. I tapped on her door, and when she didn’t say anything, I opened it. She lay on her bed, silent, staring at th
e wall. I recognized the look of eyes that had cried every last tear in them. Only then did I know she’d heard about Green Springs.

  It hurt my heart to see her so desolate. Part of me wanted to say, “Maybe Bobby and Landon survived. They’re strong boys. They’re fighters! If I could survive, maybe they did.” But I loved her enough to not tug at that thread of irrational hope, a thread that would inevitably release a surge of even deeper sorrow. So I said nothing and went downstairs to drown out the ringing in my ears with mindless work.

  Late that afternoon, as I swept along the side of a table, one of the men grabbed my apron. “You better get on out of here,” he said, a slur in his voice.

  I jerked my apron from his fingertips and kept moving past him, but this only made him speak louder.

  “War’s comin’. This town’s gonna be turned upside down before it’s through. A young kid like you outta get out of here quick as you can.”

  I still didn’t look at him. What difference did it make if war came? Let it.

  “The mob’s goin’ in to get those Apaches at first light tomorrow morning. They’re goin’ soon as they get the lynching taken care of.”

  My feet froze in place. I whipped my head around to him. “Lynching?”

  “Ain’t you heard? They’re hangin’ those three Injuns tonight. At sunset. The sheriff’s finally given the go-ahead.”

  I stared at him. “Impossible.”

  “It’s gonna be the first shot fired in the war. Gonna get the crowd good and riled up for when they march on them Apaches.”

  My legs felt numb, tingling. “No one knows where they are.”

  The man sniffed. “They do now. That Injun bouncer you got workin’ here spilled the beans. He told Señor Castilla where to find that camp. So now this crew in here’s fixin’ to ride first thing tomorrow. Soon as they get them hangin’s out of the way.”

  Standing there, listening to that man, something snapped inside me, something deep inside the layers of numbness I’d tried so hard to build up. All at once, my calm started to crumble. The waves of rage and sorrow burst through those glass walls like a flash flood, and the broom slipped from my hands. My eyes fixed on Tom, standing at the bar, counting money in the till.