Echo (26 page)

Despite what he says, I remain right where I am. Imagining the thrill of rushing toward him—the satisfaction of slamming this blade straight into his heart. Assuming he has one.

“In case you don’t get it, this is me being altruistic. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. And, other than these little transgressions you seem to insist on, I’m thrilled to see you turning out to be a much better business partner than I ever expected. In other words, I’m not ready to kill you just yet. Believe me, you’ll know when I am.”

“But perhaps I’m ready to kill you.” My voice rings surprisingly steady as I make a move toward him, noticing how he fails to so much as flinch.

“Well then, I’d say you’re about to find yourself faced with a major dilemma.” He grins, purposely swiping a hand over his chin in the way Dace often does. The sight so disarming, I have to force myself to take the next step. “What would you rather do, Daire? Kill me—or save the life of my twin?”

With only a handful of steps left between us, it’s a distance I can easily close in one single leap.

“Yours to decide.” His voice grows bored as he focuses on a space just past my shoulder, challenging me to follow.

At first I refuse, convinced it’s a trick.

But when I hear a low rasping moan—the sound of someone in pain—chased by a trickle of Dace’s usual swarm of warm loving energy, I raise the knife high over my head, determined to do it—slay Cade while I can.

Then I abandon the idea just as quickly.

Instinctively knowing that the reason Dace’s energy is so faint is because his life force is fading so swiftly that in the time it takes to kill Cade, I’ll run a serious risk of losing Dace too.

I race toward him. Dismayed to find him discarded, left for dead, just a few feet away. His torso shredded and blood-soaked, his hands covered in bite marks, his arm awkwardly jangled and skewed at his side.

I sink to my knees and pull him to me. My need to save him the only thing driving me. It’s all I can focus on. All I can see.

My love for him completely consumes me.

Unfortunately, it consumes Cade as well.

Allowing him to morph. Grow. His clothes shredding at the seams, as his body bulges and stretches—undergoing a transformation that’s as spectacular as it is gruesome. Transmuting into a scaly-skinned, snake-tongued beast three times his normal size.

And when he turns—when he raises his hands to his sides and focuses his attention toward the mine—a horrible rumble roars through the land. Prompting Raven to squawk and lift into flight as the earth begins to loosen and shift until it becomes a harsh roiling tremor that causes me to lose hold of Dace.

The ground splits between us—stranding us each on our own hellish islands. My panic scored by the boom of Cade’s malevolent laughter as he throws his head back, yawns his mouth wide, and allows those soul-stealing snakes to shoot free, turning toward me in full demon glory.

His mouth a jagged, obscene gash of snakes and gums, he says, “Thought I’d shake it up a bit. Loosen the tourmaline and make the stones easier to retrieve. We may lose a few miners in the process, but hey—that’s the price of business, right,
partner
?”

I look toward the mine, longing to help in some way. I can’t let him do this. Can’t let those poor people suffer any more than they already have. But the ground continues to split, further separating me from Dace.

“You’re no good to them dead. You’re no good to me either. Save yourself, Santos. While you still can. And while you’re at it, save my brother too. And the next time you come here to kill me, remember that it’s because of you that I’m stronger than you.” A crude smirk further distorts his demonic face. “Speaking of which, I should probably thank you for the latest infusion of power. Thanks to you, I’m stronger than ever. I can only imagine the kind of dirty deeds you two have been up to.”

The tremors intensify. The earth shaking so violently, the trees I once hid behind crash and fall all around me. And when one of them narrowly misses crushing Dace, I’m left with no choice but to risk the leap toward him.

My focus narrowed as I flail through the air. My legs kicking wildly as the toe of my boot finds purchase, but only briefly, before the soil crumbles and loosens beneath me. Sending me into a free fall—tumbling into a yawning dark chasm that offers nothing to grab hold of.

The pull of gravity dragging me down until the earth shifts again, moving toward me this time. Offering a hardened piece of packed earth I’m quick to grab hold of, followed by a succession of rocks. And the next thing I know, I’m seeking handholds and footholds, as I cautiously work my way up.

When I’m over the ledge, I rush to the place where Dace lies. Sparing a second to ensure he’s still breathing, I toss his good arm over my shoulder, heave him up alongside me, and drag him along as I seek a way out.

Chased by an ever-increasing crevice splintering behind us and the sound of Cade’s mocking laughter singing, “Run, Seeker, run!”

thirty-five

Dace

When I wake, I have no idea how long I’ve been out.

All I know is it must’ve been bad, if the heady shroud of incense and candles are anything to go by.

Chepi reaches me first. But then I’m pretty sure she’s been there all along. Never really left. Her exhausted, tear-streaked face hovers over mine as one hand fusses at my hair, smoothing it off my forehead, while the other clutches an overused tissue she presses hard to her chest. Murmuring soft words of gratitude and relief—wanting me to know how much she loves me, how much she prayed for me, that Jolon’s spirit stood by me—until Leftfoot pushes her aside and stands in her place.

His own ministrations not nearly as loving, he says, “I thought for sure you were dead on arrival.”

I start to speak, but my mouth is so dry I have to force my tongue to separate from my teeth. “So, these are funeral candles?” I croak, my voice hoarse, underused.

“You can’t afford to make jokes.” He frowns. “You have no idea just how bad off you are. But soon, the medicinal herbs I gave you to numb your pain will wear off, and you’ll be newly enlightened.”

I slide my eyes shut, straining to remember exactly how I got here. My mind requiring a handful of seconds to warm up, wake up, and piece together the hazy remnants of a distant memory. And a moment later, when the scene comes barreling toward me in its hideously detailed entirety, I’m left wishing I’d been smart enough to leave it alone.

The hellish encounter gleefully unfolds in my head, lingering over the scene where Daire had to physically drag me out of the Lowerworld. Insistently rewinding it again and again, if only to punish me.

Humiliated doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Mortified doesn’t work either.

There’s not a single word I can think of that accurately states how I feel.

Though the question remains:
Is she here?

I try to sit up, desperate to see her. Stopped by the stabbing pain in my side, along with Leftfoot’s hand pushing me back toward the mattress.

“Where is she?” I force the question between gritted teeth. Leftfoot was right—the herbs are starting to fade.

In an instant, Daire is beside me. Her hair disheveled and wind-tossed. Her clothes filthy and bloodstained. And yet, beneath the layers of dirt, her cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes bright and hopeful, and to me, she’s never been more beautiful. I’ve never been more happy to see her.

“I’m here—I’m always here,” she whispers, words intended only for my ears.

But when she bites down on her lip and sweeps a cautious hand over my cheek, I’m quick to close my eyes and turn away. Imagining how repugnant I must look to her.

Battered.

Broken.

Defeated and weak.

Someone she was forced to rescue.

A far cry from the hero I was striving to be.

And it’s not like Leftfoot has any interest in sparing my ego. He’s made it all too clear what he thinks of my pride.

“How many times will I have to patch you up before there’s nothing left to patch?” He continues to mutter under his breath as he motions for Chay to help prop me up.

I steel myself against the pain, but mostly I’m embarrassed for Daire to see me this way.

“We need to remove your shirt,” Leftfoot commands. “Or what’s left of it, anyway. You were in such bad shape when they brought you in, all I could do was a quick patch job. I was afraid anything more would send you over the edge. But now that you’re on the mend, it’s time to put you back together again.” Responding to my hesitation, the furtive look I shoot Daire, he says, “She’s been here all along. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.”

Daire flushes pink and looks the other way, as Leftfoot wads up a red bandanna he pulls from a drawer, shoves it toward me, and says, “Here—bite down on this. You’re gonna need it.”

I turn my cheek in refusal. My gaze drifting from Chay, to Chepi, to the back of Daire’s head, before traveling back to Leftfoot again. Nothing more emasculating than a roomful of elders judging me in front of my girlfriend. The very least I can do is tough it out and reject the pacifier.

“Your call,” Leftfoot says, never one to force me, despite how foolish he deems my behavior. “You’re lucky it’s only a dislocation and not a break. Breaks take longer to heal.” He places one hand on my shoulder, as the other grabs at my arm. Muttering one of his healing songs under his breath, he pushes with a great deal of strength, wrenching the joint back into place.

The sudden jerk of bone meeting bone resulting in a pain so staggering, I force myself to focus on the niche full of santos on the other side of the room. Biting back the scream that crowds my throat, I fight like hell not to pass out.

Not like this.

Not in front of Daire.

Though there’s nothing I can do about the constellation of stars that swirl bright and shining before me.

“Funny, I don’t feel so lucky.” I grind the words between clenched teeth, as I fight to steady my breath and get a grip on myself.

“And now … the wounds.” Leftfoot lifts the blood-caked key from my chest. Pausing to give it a thorough inspection, he shoots Daire a look of reproach, then goes about the business of removing the gauze and poultices that held me together like a mummy so he can better inspect my torn and ravaged flesh.

The sight of my wounds causing Chepi to sob into her already soggy tissue, as Daire looks on with a face crowded with guilt-laced sympathy.

It’s a look I can’t bear.

A look that proves just how much I’ve failed her.

“You’re lucky Chay found you when he did,” Leftfoot says.

“How did you find us? How’d you know where to go?” I ask, unable to recall that particular detail.

“Intuition.” Chay’s words are directed at me, though his eyes remain fixed on Leftfoot. “I was out riding when we had a small earthquake and I instinctively headed for the vortex, sensing it wasn’t the usual shifting of the earth. I’d only been there a few minutes when you two appeared.”

“What were you doing down there?” Chepi asks.

Daire and I exchange a look. I have no idea what she told them, so I bypass the question, and tell them about the mine instead. Explaining its connection to all those disappearances Leftfoot told me about.

Glad for the chance to concentrate on something other than the sharp sting of potions Leftfoot uses to sterilize my wounds, before he gets to stitching them closed and mummifying me again in several layers of gauze and herbs.

When he’s finished, he tosses me a clean shirt, tells me to get dressed, and damn if I don’t need his help. As if I wasn’t emasculated enough for one day.

His words directed at Chepi, he says, “Take him home. In order to mend, he’s going to require serious bed rest.” Then turning his focus to Daire, he adds, “Chay can drop you off at Paloma’s. It’s time you two stay away from each other. For good this time. I guarantee you, next time you won’t be so lucky.”

bleeding sky

thirty-six

Daire

When I lose count of the number of times I’ve called Dace only to have Chepi pick up and refuse to put him on, I know it’s time for another approach.

While she may have succeeded in confiscating his phone, while the elders may be working together, doing whatever it takes to keep us apart, there’s no way they’ll prevail.

I need to see him.

Need to check in and make sure he’s okay.

Last I saw, his body was as battered as his ego. And I need to tell him that I don’t think any less of him for being beaten by Coyote.

Twice now Dace has purposely jumped in the path of that psychotic, demonic, bloodthirsty beast—willing to sacrifice himself in an effort to save me.

It’s touching beyond words.

It’s the very definition of heroic.

But the look in his eyes when I left Leftfoot’s adobe, made it clear he felt far more ashamed than valiant.

It’s a look that continues to haunt me—one I’m desperate to change.

The question is how?

How can I possibly get to him when he’s under Chepi’s round-the-clock surveillance?

I heave myself off my bed and move toward the window. Tapping a finger lightly against the feather trim that hangs from the dream catcher over the sill, I gaze at the courtyard beyond. The thick layer of freshly poured protective salt, the coyote fence made of tall pieces of juniper branch, and the thick adobe wall that surrounds the entire property. Remembering a time just after I got here, when I used the strange setup as a reason to run—having no idea just how much it would come to serve and protect me.

I consider sneaking out, tossing a saddle on Kachina, and finding my way to Dace’s window, but Dace isn’t the only one under surveillance. Having decided to heed Leftfoot’s warning to keep Dace and me away from each other, Paloma’s spent the past few days keeping serious tabs on me. There’s no way to escape without being found.

I watch as the sun begins to sink, painting the sky a brilliant orangey hue.

I watch as my cat creeps across the fence, pausing a moment to look my way, before crouching low and leaping onto the street.