“What do you mean?”
He sat quietly for a moment, seemingly evaluating if he really wanted to open up about that aspect of his private life. “The fire, you know the one that killed your family?”
“I know the one,” I said with a wry note in my voice.
“Well, when word about it arrived on the reservation, rumor spread that it was Shyla who started it.”
My heart began pounding in my chest. “Oh?”
“If Meg told you everything, then you know Shyla can control the elements,” he said casually, like it was no big deal at all. I nodded and he said, “Well, Shyla has a particular affinity for fire. Not to mention a temper the size of Texas.”
I swallowed hard and nodded again.
“Shyla had it rough growing up,” he said. “She was different than everyone else. But she didn’t see herself as being special at all, and she hated what she could do.
“Some kids were teasing her at school one day, and she got so mad she almost burned down the building. Dad brought us here to stay with Gran for a few days, just until things cooled off. He had to practically beg the Council to let Shyla come back to the reservation. They thought she was too dangerous. They wanted her to stay with Gran permanently.”
“What happened then?”
“It was when we were visiting Gran about a year later that the fire, your fire, happened. Of course, no one on the reservation had forgotten about the fire at the school, or other smaller fires she’d set. And when we got back home, the Council questioned her.”
“What did she say?”
“She denied having anything to do with it, but I guess the evidence was pretty incriminating. They sent her away to live with Gran. This time for good. She was only twelve.”
“Do you think she did it?”
Adrian shrugged. “I don’t want to believe something so horrible about my own sister, but it’s kind of hard not to.”
“Do you hate her?”
Adrian turned to me, his expression grim. “She’s my sister, Sarah. I could never hate her.”
I brought my knees to my chest, feeling all of a sudden very cold.
“Well, if she didn’t have the motive then, she definitely has it now,” I said. “She told me to watch my back, remember? She might as well have drawn a finger across her neck.”
Adrian made to protest, but I put my hand on his arm. “Even if she didn’t set the fire, she probably holds my family responsible for not only your mother’s death, but for having to leave the reservation.”
Before he had a chance to say anything, Shyla slipped from the shadows of the woods, appearing like a ghost before us. Adrian and I shot to our feet. I stood rooted in place, too stunned to move, but Adrian splashed back to the bank to confront his sister.
“Did you follow me here?”
“I thought I told you to stay out of this, Adrian,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “This is between me and Dad and her. It doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t! If you think I’m going to stand by and let you hurt my girlfriend, you’re crazy.”
Shyla shook her head, her face screwing up in anger. “Dad’s using you, Adrian. Just like he used me. Don’t you see? He wants you to get close to her. That’s his plan.”
“Well then he’s done a really nice job of welcoming me to the family,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. “If he wanted Adrian and me to get close, he should’ve invited me over for pizza and family movie night.” I gave a loud, cynical laugh. “Your dad hates me. He can barely even look at me.”
“Of course he hates you!” Shyla screamed. “He hates your entire family!”
I clenched my hands into fists, holding them rigid at my sides. “Your dad had you set the fire that killed my mom and grandparents, didn’t he? That’s what you were talking about when you said he used you.”
Shyla’s eyes went very hard and black. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And I suppose you didn’t almost set your school on fire back on the reservation?” I shot back.
Her head swiveled to Adrian. “You told her? How could you?”
“Sarah!” Adrian said as a warning to me. “Back off.” He looked at his sister and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight shove. “Go home, Shyla. We’ll sort this out later with Gran.”
“No, you go home,” she said, shoving him back so hard he rocked on his heels. “For all I know, you’re in this with Dad. I can’t trust a word you say.”
“What are you talking about?” he said. “I care about Sarah!”
“I don’t believe you!”
“You’d better believe me, because it’s the truth!”
“Would the both of you just shut up!” I screamed, feeling extremely overwhelmed and unable to process the things I was hearing.
“No, you shut up!” Shyla yelled.
She raised her hands, casting them out in front of her as if lobbing an invisible ball at me. The resulting blow felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Immediately, an incredible wave of heat coursed through my body, and I looked down to see the hem of my shirt in flames.
I screamed, panicked to see that I was actually on fire, and stumbled. My feet got tangled beneath me and I fell backward in the water, hitting my head on a flat, hard rock. I came up sputtering, completely drenched, but with the fire extinguished.
Adrian had flung himself in the water after me and he grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet. His voice was low and frantic, and I could see the absolute terror in his eyes. “Get out of here. You’re not safe. I don’t trust her.”
But I only stood there, too dazed to move.
“Now look what you made me do!” Shyla screamed. She put her hands to her face, an agonized expression warping her features.
Adrian pushed me from behind to propel me forward. “Go! Now!”
Not needing to be told again, I ran for home faster than I had ever run in my life.
Chapter 11
I stumbled from the edge of the forest toward the safety of home, counting my blessings when I got there that Meg and David were nowhere in sight. There were no customers hanging around the greenhouse or garden, either. The place looked abandoned.
It was just as well. I was panting heavily and shaking like a leaf on a tree, and I didn’t need an audience. How was I supposed to explain the fact that the edge of my shirt was singed black and frayed with fire, or that I was soaking wet from head to toe?
I had sliced the bottom of my foot on the sharp edge of a rock while running home, and I hobbled to the kitchen door. I peered in, scanning the area to see if the coast was clear before I went inside, but all was quiet. Hopping on one foot so I wouldn’t track bloody prints across the white linoleum floor, I slowly made my way to the bathroom.
As I sat on the edge of the tub and let warm water wash over my foot, it occurred to me that I was in a world of trouble. Not only was I hurt and bleeding, my head was now throbbing. I was concerned the injury might be something serious, like a concussion. What if I needed to go to the hospital? I could always tell my aunt and uncle that I’d slipped, that it was nothing but an accident. That was sort of true, and yet there was so much more to the story than that.
But now that my foot was clean, I saw that the cut wasn’t so deep that it needed stitches. I just hoped the pain in my head would go away soon. It felt like tiny gremlins were trying to hammer their way out at the base of my skull. My vision wasn’t blurry, though. I wasn’t confused or dizzy or feeling sick to my stomach, at least not anymore. Putting some distance between Shyla and me had helped with that. Chances are I was just going to have one heck of a headache.
After drying and bandaging my foot, I changed my shirt, balling up the ruined fabric and shoving it under a pile of clothes in my dresser drawer. Then I limped to the kitchen for a glass of cold water and Tylenol. That’s when I saw the note propped against the cookie jar.
Apparently, David was two houses down doing something the note
failed to explain, but he’d be back soon. Meg had run to town for some “stuff.” At the bottom was a PS. We know you went to the creek, David had written. Don’t think you’re off the hook. You’re in serious trouble.
“Great,” I said. I wadded the paper and tossed it over my shoulder, not caring that it landed in the middle of the kitchen floor. Then I leaned against the counter and put my head in my hands, taking in a deep breath to help clear my head.
How could I have been so stupid? I thought.
What happened at the creek was exactly the sort of thing my aunt and uncle had cautioned me against, and yet I’d ignored them both. I’d paid little attention to their warnings, so entirely focused on Adrian, and my love life, that I’d willingly flirted with danger. And yet I’d wanted to see him. I’d made the decision to go, and now I had no one but myself to blame for what had happened.
Massaging my temples, I made my way into the living room where I tossed a throw pillow onto the floor and stretched out in front of the TV. Of course the remote wasn’t in its usual spot on top of the coffee table, so I spent the next few minutes searching for it until I found it wedged between the couch cushions.
“Seriously, David,” I muttered, irritated that he could never put things back where they belonged.
I pointed the remote in the general direction of the TV and flipped aimlessly through the channels, unable to settle on any one show. My head hurt way too much to concentrate. And even though the volume was turned down almost too low for anyone with a normal range of hearing, it sounded like the people on TV were screaming at me. My eardrums vibrated with a pain that set my teeth on edge. A deep ache had begun to settle in my bones, too.
It was at that moment that I realized just how physically and emotionally exhausting my encounter with Shyla had been, especially coming off the emotional high of Adrian’s and my first kiss. If only she hadn’t showed up—if only she’d left when Adrian told her to—none of this would have happened.
I rolled to my side and curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. Then I let my eyelids wink shut and was asleep within seconds.
And dreaming . . .
I was standing in a clearing in the woods, the fear of what was lurking in the shadows weighing me down so that I felt rooted in place, unable to move.
There came a deep, guttural growling of an animal, feral and beastly. I knew what it was without even seeing it: a wolf.
My entire body shook as the huge, muscled body of the great white creature emerged from the darkness, baring its teeth. It slunk toward me, its belly hugging the ground and tail pointed toward the sky. I instinctively looked away, not wanting to give the wolf any reason to consider me a threat. But when it snapped its massive jaws, I flinched and stumbled back.
Without warning, the wolf lunged forward in a sudden burst of speed and power, and I screamed and crouched to the ground, shielding my head with my arms. But I wasn’t what the wolf wanted.
I heard the dull thud of its paws on the ground behind me, and I spun around to see what it was after. Shyla was there, her body rigid in the face of the snarling, snapping beast.
“You can’t have her,” Shyla said. Her eyes seemed to pass through the wolf and bore directly into mine.
I felt a searing heat begin to lick at the tips of my fingers, and I looked down to discover I was suddenly surrounded by a ring of fire, its flames shooting high.
I was trapped.
The flames inched closer as they grew taller, and I cried out for someone to help me. Then there came the terrifying moment my clothes caught fire and my skin began to blister and melt from my body. I let out a scream so agonizing, the wolf howled and leapt at Shyla, its sharp teeth sinking into the vulnerable skin of her neck.
The wolf transformed at once into a man, and the last thing I saw before I went up in flames was a pair of eyes that looked like my own.
I woke with a start and a scream stuck in my throat. My forehead was slick with sweat and my cheeks stained with tears. Disoriented, I scanned the room trying to recall exactly where I was, at last remembering the terrible sounds and images of my dream.
The front door swung open, and David huffed his way in balancing loaded-down bags of groceries in his arms. Meg trailed behind, her nose stuck in a book.
I hastily wiped my face dry and attempted to stand, but my entire body felt like watery JELL-O and completely insubstantial. The edges of my vision began to blur and fade to black. I stumbled to the couch and slumped over the armrest, letting my head loll to one side. I squeezed my eyes shut, only dimly aware of a pair of heavy footsteps thudding their way over to me.
“It’s nice to see you’ve finally returned to the land of the living,” David said. “I got home twenty minutes ago, and you were out like a light. You didn’t even hear me turn off the TV or call your name. Get up and help me unload the groceries, will you?”
He must have gotten a better look at me then because he said, with some amount of concern in his voice, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
I opened one eye to peer up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
Much to my discredit at acting, he didn’t look too convinced. “Well, you look pathetic.”
I closed my eyes again. “Gee, thanks.”
“Is it your stomach?” David asked. I sensed him backing away quickly. “There’s a virus going around. I heard Lauren down the street is sick with it, and I guess she’s got it bad.”
“It’s not my stomach,” I said. At least I hoped it wasn’t. I’d babysat for Lauren’s three kids just a few nights ago. “I’m just really tired, and I’ve got a bad headache.”
Meg emerged from the kitchen then and bent down in front of me, disregarding any germs I might have. She pressed her cheek to my forehead. “You do feel warm.”
David took another step back. “You and your nasty sick germs can stay far away from me.”
Meg gave him a look and then nodded at my bandaged foot. “What happened there?”
I took a deep breath. “It’s nothing.”
David crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at me, the corner of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. “You hurt yourself at the creek, didn’t you? We told you not to go there.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but David held up his hand. “Consider it Karma, Sarah. We saw you sneak off. You got what you deserve. You’re just lucky something more serious didn’t happen.”
“Shut up, David!” I snapped.
“Give it a rest, you two,” Meg said. She stood up and fixed me with a glare. “You broke the rules, Sarah. And what did I say about always wearing shoes if you’re going to be traipsing around in the woods?”
“I am so not in the mood for this conversation, Meg.” I put my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. “And it’s not like I chose not to wear shoes at all,” I added. “I forgot them at the creek.”
“Forgot them?” Meg said, incredulous. “How does one forget her shoes? Didn’t you realize they weren’t on your feet?”
Tears had begun to leak from the corners of my eyes, which felt like they were being gouged out of their sockets with a spoon. “I was preoccupied.”
“Preoccupied? Sarah, that’s the most—”
“Meg! Forget about the shoes already,” David said. “Can’t you see she’s really not feeling well?”
For once I was grateful David had my back, and I offered him what I knew was a very pitiful smile. Nevertheless, he smiled back.
Meg took a deep breath. “Fine. If it’s those ratty sneakers you usually wear, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’ve been meaning to buy you a new pair anyway. Did you at least make sure to clean your foot before wrapping it?”
“I’m not an idiot,” I said, my voice muffled from my face being pressed against the couch cushion.
“I didn’t say you were,” Meg said.
She put her hand under my arm and urged me to my feet. “Come on. Get off the couch and go to your bed. You’ll be more
comfortable there. If you’ve got that stomach virus, then I’ve got some disinfecting to do.”
Meg managed to get me to my room, even though I felt incredibly weak and had to lean on her heavily. I stood still as she put the back of her hand to my forehead, her expression softening a little. Then she raised her brow and offered a faint smile. Apparently I was forgiven for the shoes, as well as sneaking off. I guess being sick had its advantages.
“I’ll bring you some tea,” she said.
I mumbled my thanks to Meg’s back as she shut the door. Then I changed out of my clothes and into my pajamas before climbing into bed. I turned from my back to my side to my back again, but I just couldn’t get comfortable.
I felt alternately hot and cold and couldn’t decide if I wanted the blankets on or off. I finally settled for just the sheet, but even the weight of the thin material felt rough and much too heavy against my skin.
My entire body felt like it was being squeezed and pounded like a wad of molding clay. I swallowed to gauge any soreness in my throat and was satisfied that at least it felt fine, if not a bit desert-like. If I was going to get sick, at least it was happening while Priscilla was away on vacation.
Meg came back a few minutes later with a mug of hot tea that smelled strongly of ginger, along with a small plate of crackers. “Just in case,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I could stomach either the tea or crackers right then.
Meg went to the window and cracked it open a few inches. A breeze blew in, and even though it was a warm wind, the exposed skin of my arms broke out in goosebumps. I clutched the sheet tighter around my body.
“You felt fine this morning, right?” Meg said. “I can’t believe how suddenly this hit you, but that seems to be the way it is with stomach viruses.”
“I felt fine when I woke up,” I muttered. “It wasn’t until . . .”
My voice broke off.
It wasn’t until Meg pointed out the sudden onset of my symptoms that I considered the possibility I wasn’t coming down with something out of any medical textbook. The truth of the matter was I’d felt fine up until the moment Shyla lobbed that ball of fire at me and knocked me off my feet. I thought the singed hem of my t-shirt, now hidden away in my drawer, and bruised ego had been the worst of it. But maybe not.
The Spirit Keeper Page 13