Authors: SL Hulen
Pulling
the
keys
from
her
pants
pocket,
Khara
handed
them
t
o
hi
m
an
d
lo
w
ere
d
he
r
head
.
“Le
t
u
s
hop
e
tha
t
w
e
succeed
.
W
e
will remember your kindness.”
“Y
eah
.
An
d
on
e
mor
e
t
hin
g
.
”
H
e
unsnappe
d
a
frin
g
e
d
sheat
h
fro
m
hi
s
bel
t
an
d
hande
d
i
t
t
o
her
.
Th
e
crisscros
s
pattern
stampe
d
int
o
th
e
leathe
r
sho
w
e
d
littl
e
i
f
an
y
w
ear
,
an
d
th
e
same
w
a
s
tru
e
fo
r
jagge
d
edg
e
o
f
th
e
knife
.
“
T
ak
e
this
.
I
n
cas
e
th
e
legends are true.”
Chapte
r
Forty-nine
Vic
t
oria
Ben
had said that the last totem would be found at the
to
p
o
f
th
e
mesa
.
H
e
ha
d
no
t
bothere
d
t
o
tel
l
the
m
tha
t
t
hey
would
be
harassed
by
eagles
as
they
cra
w
led
up
the
stone
face of the mountain.
Th
e
da
y
w
a
s
mostl
y
gon
e
whe
n
the
y
stoo
d
i
n
fron
t
o
f
a
dried-up
tree
trunk
less
than
six
feet
tall.
V
ictoria
did
her
best
to
hide
her
growing
sense
of
failure.
To
say
that
the
two
moss—
filled
spaces
half
w
ay
up
the
trunk
might
be
construed
as
e
y
es
seemed
a
stretch.
There
w
as
a
small
knot centered
below them,
car
v
e
d
b
y
time
that slightly
resembled
a
feline
nose.
An
imaginati
v
e
mind
might
construe a
fe
w
une
v
e
n
scratches, probably
mad
e
b
y
som
e
animal
,
as
whiskers.
Studyin
g
th
e
tre
e
intently
,
Khar
a
v
entured
,
“Th
e
face
resembles Dante, does it not?”
“No
t
really,
”
V
ictori
a
responde
d
honestly
.
“
Ar
e
you
absolutely sure this is the right place?”
“Where else do you see a forest of stone?”
“I
s
tha
t
wha
t
thi
s
i
s
suppose
d
t
o
be
?
I
t
isn’
t
stone
;
it’s
petrifie
d
woo
d
.
A
n
d
sinc
e
whe
n
d
oe
s
a
s
ingl
e
tre
e
m
ak
e
a
forest?”
“In truth, I had imagined something grander.”
“An obelisk, perhaps?”
“No,
”
Khar
a
returne
d
,
l
o
okin
g
int
o
V
i
c
t
o
ria
’
s
fa
c
e
and
s
w
allowing her disappointment. “Nothing so obvious as that.”
“Maybe
w
e
’
re doing something wrong.”
“Be
n
mentione
d
nothin
g
abou
t
u
s
havin
g
t
o
d
o
anything.
‘Just be there,’ he said.”
“Nothing’
s
suppose
d
t
o
happe
n
unti
l
tomorrow
,
right
?
In
th
e
meantime
,
w
e’
v
e
go
t
t
o
fin
d
someplac
e
t
o
camp
.
I
t
will
be
dark
in
a
few
hours.
I
don’t
know
about
you,
but
I’m starving.”
“Ho
w
ca
n
yo
u
thin
k
abou
t
foo
d
a
t
a
tim
e
lik
e
this
?
An
d
why
no
t
cam
p
i
n
thi
s
v
er
y
spot
?
W
e
shoul
d
sta
y
a
s
clos
e
t
o
th
e
portal
as possible.”
“D
o
yo
u
w
an
t
t
o
spen
d
th
e
nigh
t
dodgin
g
lightnin
g
strikes?
”
Sh
e
coul
d
se
e
Khar
a
shif
t
he
r
w
eigh
t
fro
m
on
e
boo
t
to
th
e
other
,
formin
g
a
n
argument
,
b
u
t
a
t
th
e
las
t
momen
t
she
threw
her
hands
into
the
air.
“
Y
ou
know
best,
counselor,”
she
conceded.
S
o
m
ethin
g
c
augh
t
V
i
c
t
o
ria
’
s
e
y
e
.
S
h
e
knel
t
an
d
un
co
v
ered
a
terracotta-and-whit
e
stripe
d
shar
d
o
f
clay
.
“Look,
”
she
exclaimed
,
layin
g
th
e
potter
y
i
n
Khara’
s
hand
.
“They
’
re
e
v
erywhere.” She gently probed the dirt around their feet with
the toe of her boot.
A
flas
h
o
f
gol
d
shon
e
i
n
Khara’
s
e
y
es
.
“Credenc
e
t
o
Ben’s
tale,
”
sh
e
claimed
.
T
urnin
g
i
n
a
slo
w
circle
,
sh
e
studie
d
th
e
mesa
from
e
v
ery
angle.
“
P
erhaps
the
Anasazi
came
here
to
be
closer to hea
v
en. Like the
Apache.”
“It’s
more
likely
they
w
ere
fleeing
for
their
li
v
es.
Why
else
woul
d
anyon
e
choos
e
suc
h
a
desolat
e
place
?
N
o
animal
s
or
food, no
w
ater. The place is a deathtrap.”
“Tomorrow,
”
Khar
a
announced
,
he
r
han
d
skimmin
g
the
miserabl
e
excus
e
fo
r
a
tote
m
the
y
ha
d
climbe
d
hour
s
t
o
find
,
“the mystery will be sol
v
ed.”
“Or not.”
Khara
strode
past
her
with
a
look
that
made
V
ictoria
wish
tha
t
jus
t
onc
e
i
n
a
while
,
sh
e
coul
d
kee
p
he
r
mout
h
shut.
“Where do you suggest
w
e spend the night?”