Crossroads Burning

by Nash, Layla

  Cauldron burn it. Lucia ignored it and tied on her apron, going behind the bar to relieve Clara from her long shift, and I wandered over to take a stool right near the cash register. I didn’t see anyone in the bar who might have been looking for a drone, so I got a beer and sat back to watch and wait.

  Once upon a time, the people in town had been nicer to us. We hadn’t suffered too much in school, my sisters and I, and we’d had part-time jobs babysitting and pet-sitting and doing odd jobs for people. They all came to Ma’s funeral, and brought us casseroles and pies and all kinds of things afterward as well. It wasn’t until Aunt Bess went crazy and almost destroyed everything that people got uncomfortable with us again. I guessed it was easier to be mean to us now that all three of us were over twenty-one and no longer little kids. We lived outside town in an odd house that never looked quite right and just reminded everyone that there was something wrong in Rattler’s Run. The only times they called on us was on Halloween, when something got lost up at the Crossroads, or as a last-ditch attempt to save someone dying. And we couldn’t do much about any of those events.

  Clara, one of Lucia’s best friends for as long as any of us could remember, leaned her elbows on the bar as she took the stool next to me. “You look thoughtful, Luckett, and you never look thoughtful. What’s up?”

  She made me smile even when I didn’t want to. No one called me Anastasia, at least to my face, since it was too long a name to bother with. Our last name was just easier to throw around. My childhood nickname, Sass, faded away from everyone except my sisters, mostly because I lost my sass after my heart was crushed and lit on fire by a boy with blue eyes and a giant rodeo belt buckle and too much swagger. I took the cold bottle that Lucia handed me and lifted it to salute Clara. “Truck died and I don’t have the money to fix it. So I’m pondering whether it’s worth taking some tourists out to the Crossroads, and whether I can charge them enough to get the damn thing fixed.”

  Her dark eyebrows rose. “Tourists? Seriously?”

  “Yep.” I took a long drink, closing my eyes, then put the bottle down so I could peel off the label. Lucia rolled her eyes and tossed me a coaster to pick apart instead. “They’re supposed to meet me here so we can figure out the details.”

  Lucia pulled half a dozen pints and loaded them on a tray, giving me an arch look. “Then earn some tips and haul this over to Grady and his boys.”

  “Grady doesn’t tip and you know it,” I said under my breath, but I figured that was part of paying her back for the ride into town on the back of her motorcycle. And if I hung around the bar long enough, I’d have one too many and would need her to drive me home, unless Olivia stopped by on her way back to the house. “But sure, I’m happy to do your work for you.”

  I didn’t wait for her response before picking up the tray and carrying it across the bar to the table in the corner, near the pool table, where a rancher and four of his boys demolished hamburgers and fries and everything deep-fried on the bar’s menu. I put the glasses in front of them and tucked the tray under my arm, ignoring the way Grady leaned away so I didn’t accidentally touch him, and swallowed down irritation and a hint of hurt. I hadn’t done anything to him personally, but he’d lost part of his herd to Aunt Bess’s final storm and he knew we could never pay him back for the lost animals. He held a grudge, even a year later, though his mama raised him to be polite enough not to mention it to our faces.

  It was past six by the time the door swung open and the bar went quiet for the second time as a group of four strangers walked in and looked around for a table. Clara, who’d stayed to hang out with Lucia and earn a few more tips by delivering the food, since no one wanted it when Lucia or I brought it out, raised her eyebrows at me. I meant to get up and march over to the group, introduce myself, and figure out whether it was worth taking them out to the Crossroads, but instead my ass stuck to the stool and I couldn’t move as the tallest man in the group studied everyone in the bar.

  His gaze swept over everyone, as if weighing and measuring them, and only paused on Grady and his pals, since they had a shotgun and a couple of rifles propped up next to their table. But the stranger didn’t seem particularly concerned; he just noted that they were armed before moving on. Then his dark eyes landed on me and stayed, and my heart dropped and flew at the same time as it tried to choke me to death. Holy Bell and Book.

  He was nearly a giant and built like some kind of gladiator, with muscles I could tell came from work and not from a gym, and an eerily self-possessed air, as if he knew he was the most dangerous thing in the room. Maybe the most dangerous thing in town. His dark hair fell across his forehead but was close-cropped on the sides, and his skin had a natural tan that made me think of faraway islands. His beard, neatly trimmed, had a hint of red when the light caught it. But his eyes... They were dark brown, like chocolate, with little flecks of gold, and if I hadn’t known magic existed, I would have believed it the moment I met his gaze.

  “Get it together, Luckett,” Clara said from the side of her mouth, elbowing me as she pretended to lean over the bar to retrieve another beer. “Cheese ’n’ rice, I didn’t peg you as someone who’d get so damn tongue-tied over a pretty face.”

  My cheeks grew hot and I ignored the stranger and his enchanting eyes as I got up to toss my empty bottle in the recycle bin. “I’m not tongue-tied.”

  Lucia snorted, though she gave the strangers a long look herself before cutting limes for someone’s rum and Coke. “New blood never hurt, Sass. And besides, one of us has to start having babies eventually. He looks like he’d be a good time on the way to a couple of rugrats.”

  “You all are just the worst.” I shoved to my feet, hoping I could get my equilibrium back before I had to negotiate with the strangers for how to get out to the Crossroads, and turned around fast enough that my elbow slammed into someone standing behind me. I bit back a curse and rubbed the bruised joint, speechless as I looked up and found I’d barely made an impression on the stranger’s impossibly chiseled chest. “Sorry about that.”

  “My fault, I was probably standing too close.” He didn’t exactly smile, but there was something about the way his eyes crinkled that was very appealing. “Are you Anastasia?”

  The fire returned to my cheeks to hear him say my full name; it always sounded absurdly feminine, when I was anything but, and too fancy for a place like Rattler’s Run. Especially the way he said it, all slow and foreign – Ahn-nah-staaah-see-ah. I’d gotten teased about it often enough growing up that I was still sensitive to anyone calling me Anastasia, or Stasia, or anything like it. Even Sass brought back too many bad memories. I cleared my throat and stuck out my hand. “I am, but everyone calls me Luckett. You’re looking to go out to the Crossroads?”

  “Yes,” he said, and his massive paw gently swallowed up my hand and most of my wrist as well. I felt all small and delicate, dwarfed by his size, and for some reason I couldn’t look away. His nose was just a little bit crooked, like it had been broken once or twice. I wondered suddenly if he snored. “I’m Lincoln. Nice to meet you, and thanks for meeting with us. Can I buy you a beer while we talk?”

  “Uh, sure.” I glanced at my sister, who was grinning wider than the Cheshire cat, and she made a shooing gesture for me to go sit with Lincoln and his pals.

  “You go on, Sass. I’ll bring the drinks over soon as I tap the new keg.”

  There wasn’t anything wrong with the keg she’d been pulling from the whole night, but my sister never let a chance to tease me a little – or more than a little – pass her by. And with Clara there to egg her on, I was in trouble. I had to keep the magic at bay as it started to stir up in my chest and percolate in my blood, reacting to strong emotions and some of that storm in the air. And there was something about him... I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I understood what Eddie meant about knowing these guys were different.

  I followed him over to the table where two men and a woman sat, and damned if Lincoln didn’t pull out a chair for m
e like I was some kind of fancy lady. I nodded, clearing my throat. “Thanks.” I started shaking hands around the table before I sat, since Ma insisted you never shook a man’s hand sitting down. “I’m Luckett.”

  They all had a watchful air, similar to Lincoln, although their eyes weren’t nearly as striking as the big guy. He looked like the oldest, maybe in his early thirties, while the others were more likely in their late twenties. All older than me for sure. I felt even more out of my depth, although at least the whispers of the ley line beneath the bar gave me more confidence. That and the fact that they needed me to take them into the Crossroads. They were there to ask me for help.

  Lincoln introduced the dark-haired woman as Hazel, and the two sandy-haired men as brothers, Nelson and Mason. They could have been twins, maybe, though the witch side of me knew them apart by the differences in their auras. All four of them had a stronger swirl of destiny around them, though I couldn’t see any magic in them that looked like ours. I frowned, trying to parse it out, and avoided looking Lincoln in the eye for too long. I couldn’t afford to get distracted.

  I waited until Clara brought over the beers and some snacks, lingering long enough to take a good look at Mason and his sleeve of elaborate black tattoos, and disappeared again before I leaned back in the chair and got to business. “Eddie said you all want to go into the Crossroads.”

  “Yes,” Hazel said. Her eyes weren’t as dark brown as Lincoln’s, more of a milk chocolate, though her hair was just as dark and cut to about her chin. She looked more like an efficient high-powered lawyer from a television drama than someone who’d go chasing after wolves in the middle of the country. And her manicured fingernails were a touch too long for someone who wanted to go camping. “We’ve been tracking wolf pack dynamics in the area via drone. It’s less distressing to the animals, so it allows us to get closer and linger with the packs as they’re hunting and interacting. Unfortunately, we think an eagle struck the drone and disabled it out on the plains. We need to get it back in order to download the video and figure out what went wrong.”

  And then all four of them looked at me expectantly, as if I’d somehow magic up the drone right there on the table in front of them.

  Maybe they’d heard a little too much around town about the Luckett sisters. A wiggle of unease replaced the happy squirm of falling under Lincoln’s attentive gaze, and I wondered whether something else was afoot. I drummed my fingers on the table, frowning as I studied the label on my beer bottle. “Well, even with the coordinates you’ve got, the device could be anywhere. If an eagle got it, it might be in pieces and scattered across half a mile of grass. How closely are you expecting to look for this thing?”

  “We’d prefer to go by SUV,” Lincoln said slowly, as if alternative means of transportation had not occurred to him. “How else would you suggest?”

  “I wouldn’t normally recommend horseback, but to get in and out of the Crossroads and not get stuck...” I shrugged, peeling that damn label off like it was a compulsion. At least it gave me something else to think about instead of the shivery feeling in my stomach as I caught a glimpse of the hard muscles in Lincoln’s forearms after he rolled up his sleeves. “Machinery gets funny out there, in that particular place. Sometimes engines die for no reason. Horses generally don’t.”

  I didn’t mean for it to be funny, but they cracked smiles all around. When I looked up, trying to figure out the joke, Mason started to look a little uncertain. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” I leaned back and out of the way as Clara appeared with burgers and fries, and I was careful not to touch their food in case they’d heard more from the townspeople than they should have. With the way everyone in the bar was staring at us while trying to look like they weren’t, the strangers had to suspect something was up. “I’m dead serious. That’s why the park service won’t let you go out there without a local guide. It’s kind of like the Bermuda Triangle of the plains. Some people make it through just fine, and others...”

  I shrugged again.

  Hazel huffed a laugh, shaking a ketchup bottle hard enough I leaned out of the way, just in case she ended up throwing it across the room by accident or the lid flew off to splatter ketchup all over. “If you’re trying to scare us to justify a higher fee, there’s no need. Our research is well-funded and we can afford a premium rate.”

  “Look,” I said, then paused to listen as static ran through the room. Something was definitely up. I half-turned and caught sight of Lucia in my peripheral vision; she was looking west, a bottle opener forgotten in her hands.

  The storm seethed and settled, promising all kinds of trouble, but magic ran as strong as ocean currents underneath. We could feel the ley lines under our house and out at the Crossroads, but it was much harder to sense them in town with all the concrete and metal and electricity. Now, though, it felt like a highway of magic opened up right underneath us. I exhaled, trying to shake off the disorienting rush of magic and memories.

  “I don’t care about the fee. I’ll take what you pay, make no mistake about that, but it’s no use to me trying to scare folks away from the Crossroads. Some fools go out there on their own, despite what the park service says, and end up dying or disappearing, and then I’ve got to go out and pick up the pieces. Sometimes literally. So I’d rather we all go together to make sure you make it back to send more robots out to follow the wolves. But if you don’t respect the land out here, and the weather moving over it, you won’t make it back.”

  And then I shut my mouth, because I hadn’t spoken so many words together since Bess’s funeral, when Lucia and Olivia made me give the eulogy.

  I half-expected the four to shove to their feet and storm out, or at least to tell me they didn’t need my help and I could go sit at the bar with my half-drunk beer, but instead Lincoln only considered me thoughtfully, his food forgotten in front of him. The other three tucked into their meals, the brothers demolishing their burgers in three bites, and the silence stretched as no one spoke. Finally, Lincoln leaned his elbows on the table and studied me even more closely. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yep.” He nodded once more, and knocked his knuckles on the battered wood table for good measure. “Okay. If you think horseback is the way to go, we’ll do it. If you think we can use the trucks, then we’ll rent some trucks. Whatever you recommend.”

  My eyes narrowed as I watched him. That was too easy. And none of the other three looked even partially put out by the prospect of riding around and camping rough. I didn’t want to call his bluff, but I would if I had to. “I’ll check the weather and get back to you. It feels like a storm is brewing. When did you want to leave?”

  “As soon as possible,” Hazel said, taking over as Lincoln devoured half his burger in a single bite. I wondered if the man would need another three or four just to make a meal. “We’ll lose the data if the backup batteries drain too low.”

  They sure were going to a lot of trouble for some research data. “These must be some wolves.”

  “What’s that?” Mason glanced up, almost guarding his plate with one arm as he waited.

  They all tensed, and I wondered if they’d been watching something other than wolves with that drone. There wasn’t much out on the plains, but there were plenty of legends and rumors about hidden gold and buried treasure and archaeological wonders just waiting to be discovered. Or drug smugglers and meth labs. I didn’t blink, going on and hoping my voice was bland as oatmeal. “These wolves you were tracking. Must be some kind of pack, to go to all this trouble.”

  Lincoln’s smile went tight at the edges. “They are.”

  Right. I didn’t believe that bullshit for a second, and I didn’t need witch magic to see through the lies. “I’m glad to help out environmentalists like yourselves, so I’ll check the weather and get a feel for what we might need, and let you know the plan tomorrow morning. You’re staying at the Inn, I take it?”

  “Yes,” Hazel said. She pulled a scrap of
paper from her pocket and slid it across the table. “This is my cell phone. Just call when you’ve got the information. If we need horses, we’ll have to rent those from somewhere.”

  “Grady’ll rent you some good horses,” I said, and tilted my head in the rancher’s direction as I studied the phone number and tried to figure out where the area code was from. I’d never seen it before. “He won’t overcharge you as much as the place here in town that rents to tourists on those ridiculous Oregon Trail camping trips.”

  “But he’ll still overcharge us?” Lincoln asked it with a charming smile, his teeth white and even.

  “Of course,” I said. A little heat gathered in my cheeks. “You’re not from around here, so... that’s just how it is.”

  “Great,” Mason said, shaking his head. “Maybe you can talk to him for us and get a better price.”

  I slid my chair back a little. “Nah. Grady doesn’t do business with me.”

  The truth slipped out before I could come up with an artful lie, and four pairs of eyes focused on me as if I’d said something shocking. Lincoln folded his arms over his chest, and as his shirt stretched, I could see traces of a tribal tattoo on his bicep and forearm, similar to the other man’s. It looked like his shirt would split right into pieces as the fabric pulled tight. “Why not?”

  “Long story,” I said. “It’s not worth getting into. Our families did business in the past and it didn’t work out, so it’s kind of become habit.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Nelson said, his sandy eyebrows drawing down.