“I am prepared to save Caleb from the curse, but I don’t understand how I’m supposed to do it. It’s not exactly like any of this comes with an instruction manual.”
His shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Thank you, Sarah. I would not ask this of you if it were just me. You have no reason to help me, after all. But I will ask this for Caleb so that he doesn’t have to share this burden.”
I looked at him, my heart squeezing with sympathy. “It’s not just Caleb I’m doing this for, you know.”
My father swallowed hard and nodded once, and then he turned forward again.
I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. By the time we arrived home, school would be ending. I quickly texted Caleb. Turns out I had some very important news to share.
Meg whirled at the sound of the car’s tires on the driveway and fixed a furious gaze on me. I could see the dark flush of anger in her face, even through the windshield of the car. Sebastian was leaning casually against his parked bike, arms crossed and a self-satisfied grin on his face.
“Uh-oh,” said my father and I at the same time. The car came to a stop, and I sat there, watching Meg watching me.
She stormed the car, her entire body vibrating with a barely suppressed rage. She yanked open the door, grabbing me by the arm so that I practically tumbled out of my seat.
“What were you thinking running off with Sebastian? And on the back of a motorcycle?” Her voice pitched up as she gesticulated wildly at my uncle.
“Somebody’s jealous . . .” Sebastian sing-songed.
Meg rounded on him. “Oh, grow up!”
She continued to me. “Of all the irresponsible things you’ve done, Sarah, this has—”
“I’m her uncle,” Sebastian interrupted, dismissing Meg’s argument with a casual wave of his hand. “She was safe with me.”
Meg rounded on him again. “You’re a stranger! She doesn’t even know you!”
“And whose fault is that?” Sebastian spoke evenly, but through his teeth. The underlying bitterness was clearly there.
“By the way,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you’re angry?”
“Save it, Sebastian. Sarah is my responsibility,” she said. “Not yours. And certainly not his.” She swung her arm in the direction of my father, acknowledging him for the first time without actually meeting his eyes.
My father joined me at my side, and he reached out a conciliatory hand to Meg. “We have not come to take Sarah away from you or David,” he said. “However, she is no longer a child. I doubt any of us have much say about what happens in her life.”
“Oh, I have say, all right,” Meg said. “I have lots of say, as a matter of fact. I’ve been the closest thing to a parent she’s had since she was eleven.”
She raised her hand to brush at a strand of flyaway hair dangling in her eyes and for the first time seemed to notice the makeshift weapon she was still gripping. She tossed the clippers aside to the grass and then clasped her forearms to stop shaking. I’d never seen her so upset before.
“If you haven’t come back for Sarah, then why are you here?”
I linked my arm through Meg’s, which seemed to confuse her just long enough to distract her from being angry at my uncle and father. I began leading her toward the house, with a nod at Sebastian and my father that they should follow, too.
“Come inside, Meg. There’s something we need to talk about.”
TWENTY-TWO
Meg called David in from where he was replacing a greenhouse window, and the five of us sat in a long, uncomfortable silence. David kept one eye on my father, while Meg looked as though she was ready to spit venom at Sebastian if he so much as twitched a finger.
The door finally creaked open and I sighed gratefully with relief, despite the obnoxious clamor of Jasmine’s incessant complaining.
“ . . . understand why I have to be here,” she was saying. “I don’t even like you guys. This is so unfair.”
“Sarah said it was important for all of us to be here,” Caleb said as the door slammed shut again. “That includes you. So stop whining like a baby.”
Their footsteps, as well as their voices, grew increasingly louder as they drew closer to the living room where we were waiting—to ambush them, it felt like.
“Of course her word is law,” Jasmine said.
Sebastian and David each snorted with suppressed laughter and then grinned broadly at the malicious look I turned on them. Apparently one annoying uncle wasn’t enough to contend with. Now I had two.
“Seriously, Jasmine. Just shut up for once in your life,” said Caleb.
“Make me.”
“How about I make you?” Shyla said. “And where is Adrian?”
“Stop your bickering. All of you,” came Imogene’s voice of authority. “Or I’m going to—”
The group halted suddenly as they came face-to-face with us gathered before them.
“Who are you?” Jasmine said rudely, her eyes volleying between Sebastian and my father.
“I think,” Caleb said, standing breathless and wide-eyed behind her, “that is my father.”
Jasmine’s eyes narrowed, and I could tell she was trying to reconcile the image of the man sitting next to me with her vague memories of Nathan Moon. Finally she said to Caleb, with a breath of disappointment, “No. That’s not him.”
“That man is not your father, Jasmine,” Imogene said, her voice a barely audible whisper. “But he’s your brother’s. As well as Sarah’s.”
“What are you talking about?” Jasmine said, but no one was paying attention to her anymore.
My father rose and stood paralyzed under the weight of Imogene’s gaze. The rest of us held our collective breath, unable to look away or even blink.
“You killed my daughter,” she said.
I wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Shyla, to see the pain and shock that I knew must be written on her face. I could see it plainly enough on Imogene’s.
My father knelt in front of Imogene, never taking his eyes from hers. She looked momentarily taken aback but didn’t utter a word.
“There is a custom among my people,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion as it bobbed too near the surface of his tightly-lidded calm. “When one commits an immense wrong, he must sing a lament for the preservation of his soul. That is why the great wolf howls. He sings not only for his soul, but for the souls of his forefathers and all the ones who bear the curse of Kamut.”
My father took a deep breath and continued. “Every night since your daughter’s death, I have sung to the moon. Not for my soul,” he said, with an adamant shake of his head, “but for the life I took from this earth. Someone’s daughter, wife, and mother.”
My throat burned with unshed tears, and I gnashed my teeth to keep the terrible ache of sadness at bay.
“Gran. It’s okay,” Shyla said, resting her hand gently on Imogene’s arm as she whispered condolences in her ear.
Imogene blinked several times as she struggled to bring her own emotions under control. She laid her hand on Shyla’s. “I know. I’m fine, honey. I just . . . I need a moment to process this.”
She closed her eyes and took a labored breath, putting her hand over her heart, as if it was all too much and she would crumple under the weight of grief exhumed.
My father’s shoulders slumped. He began to rise to his feet again. “It was a mistake coming here. I’ll go.”
“You can’t!” I instinctively reached toward him and grabbed his arm.
Imogene’s eyes opened then, and she fixed them on my father. “Sarah’s right. Our Spirit Leader does not make mistakes. We might not understand all that She does, but there is a purpose to everything. I’m sure of that. If you leave now, before we know why we’ve even been called here, my daughter will have died in vain.”
My father hesitated, bowed his head in a solemn nod, and then returned to his seat next to me.
“Now,” Imogene said, with obvious effort as she sat down next to Meg. “Would someone care to explain what is going on?”
Jasmine’s shrill voice shattered the relative stillness of the room. “Thank you! I’ve been waiting for someone to explain ever since Caleb started talking crazy and saying that man is his dad.” She curled her long fingers around her practically non-existent waist and stared at the rest of us expectantly.
“Look at them,” Imogene said, tilting her head first at Caleb and then at my father.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I am looking. I’m not blind.”
“Really look.”
I looked, too. We all did. Smooth down Caleb’s blue-tipped spikes and erase the lines around my father’s eyes, and anyone could see the resemblance. Standing nearly equal in height, they shared the same imperious nose, high cheekbones, and caramel-colored skin. It struck me then just how very handsome both my father and half-brother were.
Jasmine’s eyes darted between them. And then almost at once, her face crumpled as the truth of it dawned on her.
“You mean it’s true? But how? I don’t understand. Caleb and her,” she said, swinging around and pointing an accusing finger at me, “are related? They’re brother and sister?”
“I knocked, but I guess no one—” Charley breezed into the room just then, her face a mask of irritation, and stopped in her tracks.
Charley’s complexion paled visibly and her mouth hung slack. “Lucas,” she said in obvious surprise, when at last she found her voice.
“Hello Charlene.” My father’s greeting was cool, but I could tell he was just as shocked to see her here.
“It’s been a long time, Lucas.”
He nodded. “That it has.”
“What at are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see our son.”
Charley looked around the room then, at the people waiting for her reply, and gave a brief, self-conscious laugh. Her smile was just a little too wide, though; her eyes a little too bright.
“Our son? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Oh, cut the crap,” Sebastian said shortly. “You know exactly what he’s talking about. Caleb is Lucas’s son. He is half Manaquay.”
Charley’s head swiveled in his direction, and she lifted her nose in the air, having regained her composure. “Sebastian,” she said with apparent distaste. “Crass, as always. I guess some people never change.”
“You’ve got that right.”
Meg laughed and quickly brought her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. She met Sebastian’s eyes, though, and he winked.
Charley’s lips drew together as she continued to stand immobile. “Exactly what is going on here?”
“We’re here to get to the bottom of your lies,” David said.
“My lies?” Charley gave a haughty laugh, as all trace of self-consciousness evaporated.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, so I suggest you stay out of it. This is between Lucas and—”
“It involves all of us,” Imogene said, her voice colder than I’d ever heard it before.
Charley opened her mouth to say something in return, but I beat her to it. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Charley, and you’re not leaving until you do.”
Charley turned her steely focus on me and took a step closer. “You’re giving me orders? You’re just a child, Sarah.”
She waved her hand, dismissing me. “I honestly have no idea what any of you are talking about and, quite frankly, I have other things I need to do.”
She turned to leave, but Sebastian stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the door. “Do you mind?” she said.
“I do,” he replied. “You heard what Sarah said. You’re not leaving until you’ve explained.”
Her mouth fell open. She was clearly not used to people giving her orders. “Explain what? Move! Get out of my way!”
Sebastian wrapped his arm around Charley’s shoulders. The gesture might have been friendly had I not known otherwise. “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve gotten a few things cleared up. Now, I suggest you take a seat. This could take awhile.”
Charley’s lips thinned in anger, but she did as she was told. Raising her nose in the air, she made her way to a chair and sat down, not making eye contact with anyone in particular. “There. Satisfied?”
“We know that Lucas is Caleb’s and Sarah’s biological father,” Imogene said, “so don’t try to deny your part in this, Charley. You may have fooled poor Nathan Moon and the Katori tribe for the past eighteen years, but you’re fooling no one now.”
“Fine,” Charley said through her teeth. “All right!” Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair, and she cast a nervous glance at Caleb. “How did you find out?”
Caleb clenched his fists as he faced his mother. “No, I’m sorry for lying to you your entire life? No, I meant to tell you about your real father? God, Mom. Does it really matter how I found out?”
“I told him,” I said.
Charley’s eyes raked over me, painful as a cat’s claws. “You? What business was it of yours to tell him?”
“Because I thought he had a right to know!”
“And who told you?”
“Oops. I guess that would be me who let the cat out of the bag,” said Sebastian without apology.
Charley’s face flushed with fury as her chest heaved. “That was not your secret to tell!”
“You’re right,” Caleb said. “You’re the one who should have told me!”
She turned a pair of pleading eyes on her son. “Caleb, I—”
“It’s too late now! I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
“But if you’ll only—”
“I said I don’t want to hear it!”
Charley flinched at the reproach in Caleb’s voice, but she wisely kept quiet.
“We’re here because we need Sarah’s and Caleb’s help,” Sebastian said, breaking some of the tension hanging thick in the air.
“Help with what?” Imogene said.
“I think you’d better tell them about the prophecy,” I said to my father. I didn’t miss how Charley blanched visibly and began to fidget in her seat.
“You know the genesis of my people and yours,” he began, addressing my family. “Of how the Sun and Moon bore two earthly children, Kamut and Kai. Of how Kamut was a wicked man and manipulator of women. Of how the Sun and Moon put a curse upon him and his descendants . . .”
As my father spoke, weaving together the details of the legends, all I could think about were the people like my father—good people—who hadn’t deserved to have this horrible curse foisted on them. Generation upon generation had suffered the same fate, and all because of one person who had been more monster than man.
“The prophecy calls for a union between the Sun and the Moon and the birth of a new people,” my father said.
“And you think the prophecy is talking about Caleb and Sarah?” Meg said with a hint of disbelief when he had finally finished speaking.
“It’s just a ridiculous old story,” Charley said dismissively. “There is absolutely no truth to it.”
“Then why do you look so nervous?” Sebastian accused.
“Have you heard this prophecy before?” Meg asked, her voice sharp.
“Of course not,” Charley said.
“You have,” my father said. “From my mouth to your ears. I’m the one who told you about the prophecy.”
“You told her?” Meg said.
My father’s brow wrinkled, and for the first time he looked doubtful. “I wouldn’t have, except that she asked about it.”
He turned to Charley. “Not long after we met. Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charley said, but there was a ring of untruth to her words. She knew, all right; she just wasn’t saying.
“Wait a minute,” Imogene said, scooting to the edge of her chair. She closed her eyes and put he
r hand to her brow, as though trying to recall something. “There is a story I remember hearing as a girl.”
Charley fidgeted in her chair again.
“What was it?” Meg said.
Imogene shook her head. “Something about the children of the wolf . . . how one carries inside him the moon, and the other the sun. In the story, the two come together to create a powerful magic,” she said, twining the fingers of each hand to represent unity.
She shook her head again. “I don’t know. I was so young. It’s one of those stories you hear that doesn’t make any sense, and so you conveniently forget it.”
“I’ve never heard that story,” Meg said, her bottom lip catching in her teeth as she strained to remember.
“My own grandmother told it to me, not long before she died. Like I said, I was very young. Too young to give it the thought it properly deserved.”
“Your grandmother was Spirit Keeper,” Meg said, her eyes suddenly bright.
“A very powerful one,” Imogene agreed.
“Is that a story she would have passed down to your mother?” Meg asked. “Maybe you heard something from her, a snippet maybe, only you didn’t realize it was the same story. She became Spirit Keeper after your grandmother, isn’t that right?”
Charley laughed. “And a more incompetent one there never was. People think that one,” she said, pointing to Shyla, “had a knack for starting fires? Imogene’s mother nearly burned down the town, and half the forest along with it.”
“Is that true, Gran?” Shyla said, horrified.
“She was crazy,” Charley said. “A lunatic. It’s a wonder no one was killed.”
Imogene sighed impatiently, though she didn’t refute Charley’s words. “If my grandmother ever told my mother that particular story, she forgot it. I never heard it from her. It’s only what Lucas said about the prophecy that jogged my memory.”
“Well it has to be one and the same—the prophecy and the story,” David said.
“The Conditional Blessing,” I said to Shyla, “the one that says I’m supposed to marry a member of my own tribe and produce a child with him . . . I think it’s safe to assume we can’t take that literally. It’s not Adrian and me it’s talking about, like we originally thought.”
The Prophecy Page 18