Blood and Salt (9 page)

SPIRIT

AS THE CHARRED REMAINS
sank beneath the surface, the boats began to split off—some to the east, toward the Mendoza lodge; some to the west, toward the Hanratty and Grimsby lodges—ours was the only boat that headed due south, toward a tiny speck of light at the tip of the lake. The Larkin lodge.

“Believe me . . . I'm not complaining”—Rhys let out a shaky breath as he scanned the lake—“but why are we the only canoe headed this way? Where are the other Larkins?”

“You're all that's left,” Beth said, her warm brown eyes gleaming as she continued to row, slow and steady.

My brother's spine stiffened. “What happened to them?”

“Coronado,” she replied as she looked skyward. “He took them.”

“Killed them?” My brother rubbed his arms, like he was trying to warm himself up.

“No one knows,” she said serenely. “But it feels like I
should
know . . . like the answer's right on the tip of my tongue.” She stopped rowing, closed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out.

Rhys shot me a look—

“Nope. Nothing.” She shrugged and continued rowing.

Something stirred in the water, sending dark ripples across the glassy surface.

“What was that?” my brother whispered.

“It's the week of the summer solstice,” Beth replied.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes darting over the water.

“Some say the land is haunted by the spirits who died here. They say the lake was made from the tears of the Great Spirit.”

“Perfect.” Rhys clutched the sides of the boat.

“Is this where Katia and Coronado met Aiyana?” I asked.

Beth nodded. “Katia led Coronado, his men, and their families to Quivira in 1541.”

“Katia led them?” I asked. “I thought it was Coronado.”

“When Coronado saved Katia from the Spanish prison, she agreed to bring him here and make him her immortal mate. They claimed they were looking for the land of gold, but Katia can make all the gold she needs. She was searching for Aiyana.”

There went my theory that we could buy my mother out of this. I glanced down at the briefcase full of gold ingots at my feet, wondering if Katia gave it to her or if my mother stole it.

“Aiyana had appeared to Katia in a dream, told her if she came to Quivira she would teach her to commune with the Great Spirit—and how to take an immortal mate.”

“How would Aiyana know about any of that?” my brother asked.

“Aiyana was another immortal like Katia, and while Katia used alchemy to achieve immortality, Aiyana was granted immortality from the Great Spirit herself. Aiyana taught Katia everything she knew—they were like sisters—she even taught her Caddo.”

Beth dug the oar deeper into the water. “When Coronado killed Alonso, Katia was heartbroken, but when he killed her daughter, she was devastated. Marie's soul couldn't be saved, but the Great Spirit agreed to bring Alonso's soul back to her once their vessels had been found.”

“Wait.” My breath hitched in my throat. “You said the
Great
Spirit agreed to return Alonso's soul?”

“Yes.” Beth skimmed the oar on top of the water for a moment and studied my face.

I looked out over the corn in the distance. In my vision, I'd seen Katia turn to the
Dark
Spirit—and Aiyana tried to stop her. This was a part of the story the community didn't know about.

I couldn't get Aiyana's face out of my mind. That haunted look in her eyes when she realized she couldn't enter the sacred circle.

“What happened to her . . . to Aiyana?” I asked.

Beth continued rowing. “Aiyana couldn't bear to stay after all the blood that had been shed here. She took her tribe out west to start anew, leaving Quivira in Katia's care. They
returned briefly in 1861 when they found out Coronado and the Arcanum planned to attack. But there was a great battle in the corn, most of the tribe died trying to protect us. That's when Katia enchanted the corn.”

Something didn't feel right. I guess Katia and Aiyana could've patched things up. I mean, five hundred years is a long-ass time to hold a grudge, but it was hard to believe Aiyana would help Katia with anything that had to do with the Dark Spirit.

“I can't believe I'm asking this.” Rhys leaned forward, raking his fingers through his hair. “But if the ritual takes place . . . if it's real . . . what will happen to our mom? Will she still be our mom, or will it just be Katia in our mother's body?”

“I guess she'll be a mother to all of us.” Beth smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “It's an honor.”

Her words hung heavy in the air. I remembered my mother saying the exact same thing to me in her studio when she gave me the last protection mark.

I couldn't imagine anything worse, living forever, watching everyone and everything die around me, but maybe for Mom it
was
an honor, being able to spend eternity with the one she loved.

“Ahoy.” A man's voice called out across the water.

“Hi, Henry.” Beth waved as she eased the canoe alongside a long, crooked wooden structure that looked like it was about to commit dock suicide. If the Larkin lodge looked anything like this, we were in for a treat.

A man picked up the lantern resting at his feet, illuminating a ravaged pockmarked face arranged into a scowl.

“Henry's the caretaker of the Larkin lodge.”

“This gets better and better,” Rhys murmured as he heaved our bags onto the dock.

I slipped my boots back on and climbed out after him.

“Oh, and, Ash?” Beth called from the boat. “Your markings are really beautiful.”

All of the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Slowly, I turned around, running my fingers against the last tattoo on my collarbone. “You see them?” I whispered.

“The circle with a dot in the center,” she said as she struggled to hold up the heavy briefcase. “That's the symbol Katia uses on her gold bars.”

I reached out and took it from her, clutching it against my chest.

“Don't worry,” she said as she pushed away from the dock with her oar. “Your secret's safe with me.”

She knew about the protection marks. She knew about the gold.

“Beth, wait,” my brother yelled as he rushed to the edge of the dock. “You're just going to leave us?”

“I'll pick you up at dawn,” she said as she turned the canoe around and started rowing back toward the Grimsby lodge. “There's something you need to see.”

HOME SWEET HOME

THE LANTERN SWUNG
from side to side as Henry led us up a gently sloping cobblestone path, slick with moss and sprawling ivy. I scanned the surrounding towering pines and cedars and, beyond that, the corn. Always the corn.

Henry stopped and raised the lamp, illuminating the beautiful arched door at the base of an enormous A-frame house with wings jutting off on either side. Here, in the dark, it looked like a cedar-shingled spaceship. There was a flag out front—a simple circle with a golden crescent moon and a star. Henry opened the door, lit two more lanterns that rested on the entry table, and thrust them into our hands.

Rhys dug in his heels, but I pulled him over the threshold.

The moment I stepped inside the house, the scent overwhelmed me: hints of pine, geranium, rising bread, fresh rain, and wet cedar. And deeper than that, my mother was everywhere, like a faint imprint of sunshine. I wondered if—

“She's not here,” Henry said, as if answering my thoughts.

I looked up at him with raised eyebrows as he led us inside.

I wasn't expecting it to be so open; the main room was vaulted like an atrium with huge windows covering the wall overlooking the shimmering lake. The décor was sparse—a few elegant and functional pieces. I walked through the dining room, running my fingers along the enormous wide-planked farm table, eyeing a number of portraits and photographs that hung on the walls—their faces as familiar as my own, but nameless.

Henry showed us the kitchen. “You got bread, almond butter, jam, lemonade,” he said as he opened the old-fashioned icebox. The light from the lantern shot up his arm, illuminating the scar on his inner wrist, a brand identical to Beth's.

“You're a Mixed,” I blurted.

The tendons in his neck flared.

I thought about Dane's scar and the strange overwhelming urge I had to touch it.

Henry glared at me. “I'll do my best to stay out of your head, but you'll need to watch your thoughts around me.”

It took me a few seconds to register what he was saying, but then I remembered Dane telling me that all the Mixed had certain quirks. Henry must be a telepath.

I felt a deep flush spread over my face.

“If anyone even suspects an inappropriate relationship there will be punishment.
Severe
punishment,” Henry said. “It won't even matter who his daddy is.”

“Who's his dad?” I asked.

“Spencer Mendoza.”

Just the thought of them sharing the same blood offended me.

“My father was a Larkin, my mother a Mixed,” Henry explained as he rolled down his sleeves. “I was caught bringing flowers to my half cousin Anna Larkin. They let me live, but I wasn't unmarred.” Henry shifted his weight. “A Larkin girl mingling with not only a Mixed, but a Mixed with Coronado and Mendoza blood? Out of the question. Doesn't matter that the vessels have been found. It's forbidden. Always has been—always will be.” He moved into the living room to light a lantern hanging from an iron stand. “Do you hear me, girl?” He turned to stare at me.

I nodded, just to get him to stop. I didn't want to talk about my “mingling” in front of my brother.

“What really happened to the rest of the Larkins?” Rhys asked warily.

Henry's knuckles turned white as he clutched the lantern. “The Larkins started disappearing a few years after Nina and Thomas walked the corn. By this time last year they were gone. We thought all was lost until a few days ago. Katia told us salvation was on the way. She must've suspected a traitor among us, because she kept Nina and Thomas a secret from everyone.” He let out a heavy sigh. “She did what she had to do to keep them safe from Coronado.”

“Why would she think there was a traitor?” Rhys rubbed his
temples. “And why would you assume Coronado was involved? Maybe the Larkins just didn't want to live here anymore.”

Henry squinted at him. “People don't
leave
Quivira.”

I clenched my eyes shut.
Please don't tell Rhys about the corn. Not yet. Not now.

I opened my eyes to find Henry glaring at me. So, it was true—he really could read my thoughts. I looked at him pleadingly.

Henry grumbled at me as he passed, fetching a tall ladder that was hanging on the wall. “Every time a Larkin disappeared, you could see crows flying overhead.”

Rhys slumped down in one of the dining room chairs, burying his head in his hands. “God, I hate crows.”

Henry dragged the ladder to the center of the room, leaning it against a platform built into the vaulted ceiling. “Before my time, the crows had been known to attack, ripping people limb from limb, but with the Larkins,” Henry said as he ascended the ladder to a loft area, “it's like the crows plucked them right off the face of the earth. They disappeared without a trace.”

“But not you?” I asked as I followed close behind.

“They say Coronado spared me because I was a Mixed.”

“That was lucky,” I said as I reached the top, but he didn't offer me a hand.

“Lucky?”
His mouth stretched into a thin grim line. “The Mixed are an abomination. After what Coronado did to Katia, letting his kin stay in Quivira was merciful.”

Henry opened the door to reveal a screened-in porch with scented candles and blue-and-white-pinstriped cushions. It seemed dainty compared to the rest of the house.

“You're awfully tame for a conduit.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Most conduits are . . . well . . . there's something different about you.”

I ran my hand over the last protection mark. “So I've heard,” I answered, holding his gaze, doing my best to bar him from my thoughts.

Rhys decided to join us, clomping up the ladder like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I helped him onto the platform.

My brother and I stood in front of the screened-in window. This appeared to be the highest point of Quivira, offering a unique view. The torches marking the inner perimeter blazed, casting an ominous glow over the corn.

“Why can't Coronado and the Arcanum come in?” Rhys asked. “We were able to walk right through.”

“Your blood allowed you to pass, I suppose.” Henry scratched at his brand. “Katia's blood.”

Rhys squinted into the distance. “But what about all the visitors you've had over the years?”

“You're the first visitors we've had since Quivira was sealed in 1861.”

Rhys turned to me, jaw tense. I didn't need to be a telepath to know what he was thinking. All of those cars from the junkyard—all those people. What happened to them?

“Best not to ask too many questions around here, you understand, boy?” Henry's pale blue eyes settled on him.

“What does Coronado want?” I asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the corn.

“He wants to stop the ritual. He thought killing off the Larkins would make it impossible for Katia to find a vessel, but now that he's found out he's been tricked, I suppose he's lashing out at the weak. Poor little Betsy Grimsby. His black magic's getting stronger. Watch yourselves, Coronado sure would love to get at the two of you.”

“Wait . . . what would he want with
us
?” I asked, pure adrenaline firing through my limbs.

“Coronado could use you as pawns to suss out your parents—the vessels, or just kill you to punish Katia. He'll do anything to hang on to his immortality.”

I couldn't stop thinking about our mom telling us how Katia did her a great kindness that day by allowing her to leave Quivira. I never understood what she meant until now. Katia could've taken her vessels right then and there, but she waited another cycle, another seventeen years, in order to let my mom raise her children, to give us a chance at a normal life. Suddenly, I understood why my mother held her in such high regard—why they all did.

We stood there in silence, staring out over the fields.

“Even if you could get through the corn . . .” Henry looked at my brother sympathetically. “Coronado has Quivira surrounded. You wouldn't stand a chance.”

Rhys whipped his head around. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“And Ash is right . . . what makes you think Nina would want to leave with you? Nina and Katia have been connected since the moment Katia cut into your mother's palm. Asking Nina to leave would be like asking her to turn against her very nature.”

Henry's eyes bore into us with a sharpness that made me squirm. I had a thousand questions, but I wasn't sure if he could be trusted.

“Don't trust anyone,” Henry said as he turned to go back downstairs.

“Wait, you're just leaving us here, too?” Rhys gripped the top of the ladder.

“Sleep anywhere you'd like,” he said as he reached the main floor. “I stay in the shed out back.”

With that, he left us alone in that strange empty house with nothing but ghosts and shadows to keep us company.