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Authors: Kim Liggett

BOOK: Blood and Salt
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41

FEMUR

I DREAMED I SWAM
in the salty sea. Sunlight was streaming through the surface, but I felt no need to come up for air. My lungs didn't need air anymore. Joyfully, I did a somersault, then dove down, plunging farther into the abyss.

Below me, my mother drifted in the deep blue with the silk ribbon dancing around her, like the blackest of ink. She'd never looked more beautiful. Her chestnut hair billowed in front of her face, momentarily obscuring my view, and suddenly everything changed. Every good feeling turned to dread—flooding my mind, suffocating my senses.

The black silk ribbon was squeezing her throat, pinning her to the bottom of the ocean floor— belly bloated, mouth open, dead eyes, her once-beautiful hair knotted like tangled seaweed. A living reef of blood and flesh and bones.

I turned away, kicking furiously toward the surface, but something tugged at me, pulled me down.

I glanced back. My dead mother shot toward me like a comet—arms stretched out, fingers reaching. In a panic, I pushed forward, but that feeling of being held in place seized me again. One end of the black silk ribbon snaked out from her neck and wrapped around my wrist, holding me to her like a tether. I tried to break free, but the harder I fought, the tighter it wound. I turned back and, to my horror, found that it wasn't my mother's face at all. It was my own, staring back at me with a rictus smile.

• • •

I came to, lying at the bottom of the crevice. There was no water, but I was fighting to fill my lungs with air. Something hard and jagged protruded from my chest.

I felt my broken body, every breath jolting me with searing pain. With each movement, a strange rattling sound echoed from the brittle rubble beneath me.

I cried out my mother's name, though I knew she was probably dead. She had to be. She'd served her purpose. Katia had no use for her anymore.

I wanted to lie there and wait for Katia to come for me, but then I thought of Rhys. Dane could still bring my brother to safety. I had to get out of the chasm.

Digging through my pockets, searching for anything that might help, I discovered a match I'd swiped from Spencer's hidden chapel.

With trembling hands I reached out and struck it against the limestone wall—phosphorous flared in my nostrils. Snatching a tattered piece of cloth from the ground, I wrapped it
around a stick, and set the match to it. The torch illuminated a horrific scene.

The walls of the chasm were stained with old blood and viscera—beneath me, a bed of discarded bones. Even the torch I held wasn't a stick—it was one of their bones; the cloth, one of their wreathing gowns.

These
were the Larkin girls who came before me. The unchosen. They never made it to the outside world, because Katia had killed every single one of them and thrown them into the chasm.

Marie fought to find me, to show me the truth. She was trying to warn me about Katia. I wouldn't let her death be in vain.

There was only one way out. I propped the torch against the side of the crevice and piled up the bones. Crawling on top of my ancestors, I stretched out my hand to Marie's skeleton, and climbed her body.

Every movement sent shock waves of pain pulsing through me, but I couldn't give up.

Once I'd reached her pelvic bone, I lunged for the rope, cringing at the crackling sound it made as I pulled myself upward.

Midway up the rope, the torch burnt out, leaving only the glow of the moon to guide me.

With each pull up the rope, the pain hit my torso like a thousand volts of electricity. Every inch was more agonizing than the last.

The remaining few feet were the hardest, seeing the edge of the crevice, having to muster up my last bit of strength to grab the metal cleat and pull myself out into the open air.

Grunting in pain, I dragged my broken body away from the edge of the chasm. The crops rustled along the perimeter, and I had a flash of remembrance. The boy from my vision, the one who stumbled out of the sacred circle and died in the corn—Katia told him to run, but she wasn't trying to help him, she was
feeding
him to the corn. I also understood why he looked so familiar—the dark blond hair, the chiseled features. The boy from the vision was Thomas . . . my father.

Desperate to get away from the memories, I pulled myself out of the circle and through the corn. Dane's scent was all around me. I wanted to call out, but I was panting so hard, I couldn't find my voice. I rolled onto my back to try and catch my breath, but it only made it worse.

The gash in my head had already started healing, but something hard and sharp still sliced into my chest and back.

I gripped the stalks on either side of me, bracing myself as I found enough air for one last primal scream.

“Ashlyn,” Dane called as he tore through the field. When he found me, his smile faded into a grim line. “What happened?” he gasped as he kneeled beside me.

“Help me,” I whispered in agony.

“Please, tell me what to do.” His hands were clenched in front of him, like he didn't know where he could touch me.

“My chest.” I winced, guiding his hand to show him where
the pain was. It felt like my skin kept trying to heal around the foreign object, only to be sliced open again. As Dane lifted up my shirt, the color drained from his face.

“That bad?” I grunted.

Terror flashed in his eyes. “It's a bone.”

“A cracked rib?”

“No, it looks like part of a femur.” He glanced down at my legs in confusion.

“It's not mine,” I said. “There are dozens of skeletons in the chasm. Marie . . . all the Larkin girls. When I fell, it must've gone right through me. You need to pull it out.”

“I . . . I can't. If I take it out you'll bleed to death. It's a miracle you haven't already. It looks like it's gone straight through your heart.”

“You have to do it,” I pleaded. “It will be okay.”

He looked less than convinced as he stared down at the blood pooling around me. But I couldn't speak anymore; the pain was too intense. My vision started going gray and I desperately tried to hang on to the last bit of consciousness.

Reluctantly, Dane gripped the bone. “Should I take it slow or try to pull it out in one shot?”

I held up my finger.

“Ready?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the soft earth.

He pulled. The pain was unbearable, like I was being flayed alive. But the bone wouldn't budge; it seemed to be wedged between my ribs.

He stood, placing a palm on my shoulder for leverage. “You better not die on me.”

I wanted to laugh, but a searing pain ripped through me as he tore the jagged bone out of my chest. Blood came gushing from the wound.

“No, Ashlyn.” He kneeled, putting his hands over it.

“I'm the vessel,” I whispered. “I'm immortal—I
can't
die.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I said it aloud. “I never wanted this.”

Leaning back on his heels, he looked down at the blood on his hands. “I . . . I'm so sorr—”

“We need to find Rhys,” I interrupted. “You need to leave
now.

He picked me up in his arms. “First, I'm getting you out of this place.” As soon as he took a step toward the outer perimeter a pain unlike anything I'd ever felt before welled up inside of me. It felt like something was crushing me from the inside out.

I screamed in agony.

“What is it? What's happening?”

He took another step forward and I could hear my ribs cracking beneath the pressure.

“Go back . . . take me back inside Quivira,” I yelled.

He rushed me through the corn. As soon as we broke through the perimeter, the pain subsided.

Gently, he laid me on the grass. “I don't understand.”

“Katia won't let me go. I can feel her inside of me. Please take my brother and Beth and leave.”

“I'm
not
leaving you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“After the ritual, I won't remember Beth or you or my brother.”

“You don't know that—”

“Katia. I've seen into her heart. She killed her own
daughter.
She killed all the chosen Larkin girls and fed my dad and all the other Mendoza boys to the corn. She probably killed my mother, too. She'll never give her followers immortality. They're just breeders to her. And when she transfers her soul into my body, I'll kill anyone who tries to keep me from being reunited with Alonso. Including you.”

“Ashlyn, there's another way.” Dane glanced up at the moon, sitting high in the night sky. “It's almost midnight on the summer solstice. You and I . . . we can become blood bound.”

“N-no,” I stammered. I couldn't believe he was suggesting this. I would never wish this on another person. Especially someone I love.

“I'm not just a Mixed. I'm half Alonso's blood, too. It will work.” He gazed down at me, lips parted.

“And then what?” I gasped. He didn't understand what being a vessel really meant. He couldn't.

“You and I can walk the corn together as immortals. We can fight her. I know we can.”

“No,” I whispered, thinking it would be just as wretched for him to be Alonso as it was for me to be Katia. “I can't do that to you.”

“You can't or you won't?” Dane asked, his eyes welling up with tears.

A long moment of torturous silence stretched between us.

I watched him staring down at the still-gaping wound in my chest and I couldn't help thinking of Coronado overpowering Katia. “You could take it, you know. I wouldn't stop you.”

“I would never do that.” He looked shocked, like I'd just slapped him hard across the face. “It's yours to give, not mine to take.”

The gash in my chest surged shut. Dane opened a flask of water from his pack and poured the tepid liquid over my chest, washing the blood from my skin.

“Ashlyn”—he gathered my hands in his—“I'll take your brother and Beth to safety. All I ask in return is one more night with you. Just the two of us. At first light, if you still won't bind to me, I'll leave you in peace. I
promise.
At the very least, we can say good-bye.”

I watched the last tendril of blood disappear into the soil and I knew it wouldn't be long until I disappeared forever.

And I didn't want to be alone anymore.

42

ALONE TOGETHER

QUIET BUT PRESENT,
Dane led me through the wooded pines on the eastern shore, until we reached the clearing—Heartbreak Tree.

I knew what it meant. Why he brought me here.

As he held the branches open for me, I brushed past him. A prickling rush of heat swept over my body. I leaned back against the gnarled gray trunk, hoping the cool bark would extinguish the wildfire running rampant across my skin, but when he leaned into me, kissing my neck, a euphoric wave washed over me. Blood bound or not, Dane was under my skin. I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk away from him. Not now. Not ever.

“Please bind to me,” he whispered in my ear.

“Why would you want this?” I broke away from him before I burst into flames. “Why would you want to be blood bound?”

He caught my hand. The end of the ribbon tied around my wrist coiled around his.

“For you. I'd do it for you. Think about it, we'd live forever, walk the world together, walk through time. If I'm blood bound to you, nothing will be able to separate us. Not even death.”

“But we won't be
us
anymore. You won't be Dane and I won't be Ash. We'll be Katia and Alonso.”

“I don't believe that.” He moved closer. “I've always been able to pull you back from Katia. Together, we have a chance. We can overpower her . . . and Alonso.”

“And what if you're wrong?” I untangled his wrist from the ribbon.

“Do you feel this?” He pulled me close, running his fingers lightly down my spine. “How can a feeling like this disappear? There must be a way for us to hold on to each other, through our blood. I won't lose you.”

It took every bit of willpower I had to pry myself away from him. “What about my brother and Beth and everyone else? If we fail, they'll never get out.”

“I can get them through the corn and make it back in time for the ritual.” He brushed my hair from my shoulders.

“I'm sorry, but I can't risk it. I can't bring you down with me.” I thought about what it felt like being in Katia's head as she nudged Marie's body over the edge of the chasm and I shuddered. “If things go wrong, we won't be able to take it back.”

He grabbed my arms, eyes blazing. “If this is some noble
attempt at saving me, you're too late. I haven't had a chance since the moment I met you. Tomorrow, you'll walk the corn with
Brennon,
and Katia will force you to bind to him. Is that what you really want?”

“I don't want any of this!” I raised my voice, suddenly realizing why Katia had arranged for me to go through the wreathing ceremony with Brennon in the first place. She'd handpicked him as Alonso's vessel.

Dane let go and I turned away from him. I didn't want him to see how scared I was. How hopeless I felt.

As I stared through the shimmering branches into the night, Dane slipped behind me, easing his hands around my waist. “The choice will be made for you whether you want it or not,” Dane said softly. “I'm here. I love you,” he whispered into the back of my neck. “We were meant to be together.”

He traced his thumb against the slope of my hip bone—the same way he'd touched me when we first met. I placed my hands on top of his; the firm pressure of his grip deepening my desire. He kissed my shoulder . . . then my neck, my ear; I turned toward him to find his mouth, when he stepped back. A slow smile spread across his lips with that perfect dimple peeking out. “It's your choice. I've already made mine.”

I wanted to refuse him, for his own good, but there was no escaping. The branches seemed to imprison his scent, trapping it there until I felt drunk with his essence.

Thanks to Katia's memories, I knew how to perform the ritual, just as I knew Caddo like it was my native tongue.

“You're sure this is what you want?” I stepped toward him, searching his eyes, but it was too dark to decipher his expression.

“Yes.” He pulled me close, his warm breath caressing my face. “I've never wanted anything more than this.” He whispered in my ear, “I want to be able to find you, to taste you, to feel you even when I can't feel myself.”

The smell of his skin was indescribable, like every good memory mixed with the sweetest bitter sorrow that I would ever know.

He kneeled in front of me and presented me with a knife from his belt.

My blood seemed to ache for his. I took his hand, and dug the knife across the length of his left palm. He sucked in air, trying to hold in the pain.

“A kisctsa rauuir tiaticaa kaukuu',”
I chanted as I kneeled to face him, slashing a deep cut above my heart.

I pressed his palm against my chest. It stung at first, but we both held on tight. I could feel my blood slowly overpower his and then flow into him. I breathed in time with him and waited. We were meant to meet, meant to be in this moment. I loved him before I even knew him. It was written in our blood.

I felt both of our cuts heal simultaneously; a wave of raw emotion crashed over me. I was unable to distinguish one feeling from another. They were all intertwined—yearning, fear, lust, despair, but, above all, love.

A brilliant light moved across my skin, enveloping me in warmth. Even though it was like looking at the sun, I watched
the light dance across my skin and spread to Dane, but the light never completely left me. I felt our lives surging as one—every cell, fiber, hope, fear, and dream merging with his. We were like a tangled mass of veins and arteries, all leading to one heart, beating for each other.

His body shuddered along with my own at the overwhelming sensation of having my blood pulse within him. He pulled me toward him and kissed me passionately; any resistance I once felt quickly faded with the rushing of blood through our hearts.

I felt like I couldn't get close enough to him even if he swallowed me whole. Without breaking our kiss, he pulled me into his lap. I felt a surge of excitement pulse through him as I slipped his shirt over his shoulders, dragging my fingertips across the now-healed scar on his left shoulder.

“Sometimes I think about the day we met,” he whispered. “We would've talked all afternoon,” he said as he lowered his hands to the buttons on my shirt. “And when the sun set, we would've walked hand in hand to the sunflower field.”

Slowly, he unbuttoned my first button. I smiled into the dark.

“That's where we would've had our first kiss.” He moved his hands down to my next button, slipping it from its home. “We would've gone to Windy Point, and never even noticed the stars.”

I gently bit down on his lower lip. The third button practically popped open by itself.

He placed his hands on the last button. “And then we would've gone to Crystal Pond and undressed each other in the glow of the rising sun.”

With the last button undone, he slipped his rough hands under the tattered cloth and eased my shirt from my shoulders.

We slipped out of our remaining clothes. The thought of finally being able to feel his bare skin against mine was so overpowering that I pushed him down against the cool ground and kissed him, letting my hair fall over him like a veil, my breasts brushing gently across his chest.

The sensation sent a shiver through both of us. He tried to lean forward for another kiss, but I held him back, entwining my fingers through his.

“Ashlyn,” he whispered. I released his hands, letting him take command of my body. He traced every curve of me before lacing his fingers through my hair, and in one swift force, he was on top of me. The feeling of the cold hard earth beneath me with his hot skin pressing into me was sheer bliss. I coiled myself around him like a serpent. I wanted to meld into him and never return. It felt as if I were stepping into the sunlight after a lifetime of cold night. It felt all-consuming, electric, destructive, forever, and never.

It was blood and salt.

It was everything.

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