Misplaced (80 page)

“I’
v
e
brought
you
to
the
most
beautiful
place
I
know,
and
you
’
r
e
intereste
d
i
n
tha
t
chun
k
o
f
w
asteland?
”
H
e
hea
v
e
d
an
exasperate
d
sigh
.
“There,
”
h
e
said
,
pointin
g
t
o
th
e
basi
n
of
whit
e
sand
,
“i
s
th
e
T
ularos
a
Basin
.
It’
s
bordere
d
b
y
th
e
Malpais,
an
ancient
la
v
a
bed
where
nothing
good
has
e
v
er,
or
will
e
v
er,
happen.
”
H
e
steppe
d
clos
e
behin
d
her
,
hi
s
w
ar
m
breat
h
wilting
he
r
concentration
.
“
An
d
beyond
,
tha
t
fla
t
stretc
h
o
f
w
aterless
land is the
Jornado del Muerto
.”

Khar
a
coul
d
scarcel
y
belie
v
e
he
r
ears
.
Hadn’
t
Nando
r
’s
instructions that
night
in
the desert been to
begin with the journey of
de
a
th?
Wh
a
t
if
he
had
been
p
oi
nting
to
a
l
o
c
ati
o
n?
T
his
possibility
had
ne
v
er
occurred
to
her.
P
erhaps,
she
thought
with
a
slow
smile,
it
w
as
nothing
more
than
a
riddle,
and
her
death
w
as
not required.

Oli
v
e
r
interrupte
d
he
r
racin
g
thoughts
.
“I
t
w
a
s
gi
v
e
n
that
nam
e
t
o
commemorat
e
th
e
settler
s
wh
o
die
d
o
f
thirs
t
trying
to
cross
it.
And
if
that
didn’t
finish
them
off,
the
Apache
often
did.”

W
a
s
thi
s
th
e
rea
so
n
Nan
do
r
h
a
d
a
cc
u
s
t
om
e
d
he
r
t
o
l
o
ng
trek
s
o
v
e
r
menacin
g
deserts
?
“T
o
mak
e
yo
u
ready
”
ha
d
been
hi
s
onl
y
explanation
.
Read
y
fo
r
what
,
she
’
d
al
w
ay
s
wondered.
Th
e
bar
e
expans
e
i
n
th
e
distanc
e
too
k
he
r
breat
h
a
w
ay
.
“I
f
I
w
ere
to
follow
this
Journey
of
Death,
where
would
it
take
me?”

“There.
”
H
e
pointe
d
wit
h
hi
s
ar
m
reachin
g
o
v
e
r
her
shoulder
,
hi
s
chee
k
almos
t
touchin
g
hers
.
“Th
e
trai
l
lead
s
t
o
the
Camin
o
Real—th
e
Ro
y
a
l
Road
.
I
t
end
s
i
n
Sant
a
Fe
.
Y
ou
’
r
e
doing
an impressi
v
e job of pretending to be interested.”

“Am I?” She leaned closer and closed her e
y
es.

“
W
e could stay a while.”

W
ith
a
sudden
rush
of
guilt,
she
pulled
a
w
ay.
“
V
ictoria
will
be worried.”

They
lingered
at
the
summit
long
enough
to
obser
v
e
a
bald
eagl
e
ridin
g
th
e
wind
.
Surel
y
i
t
w
a
s
Horu
s
himself
,
com
e
to
remind
her
that
she
must
not
forget
herself
with
a
man
from
a
different
world, a different
time.

I
t
too
k
e
v
er
y
bi
t
o
f
he
r
resol
v
e
t
o
lea
v
e
Oli
v
e
r
standin
g
alone
a
t
th
e
to
p
o
f
th
e
world
,
lookin
g
bewildered
.
Sh
e
hurrie
d
to
w
ard
the
w
aiting horses.

“Hey,
w
ait up!” he called after her.
She
quickened
her
step,
stopping
only
to
swing
onto
Lucy’s
back and urge the mare for
w
ard.

A
sombe
r
moo
d
gaine
d
forc
e
o
n
th
e
lon
g
rid
e
bac
k
t
o
the
farm,
with
e
v
ery
step
a
w
ay
from
that
sacred
place.
As
though
he
understood
her
need
for
silence,
Oli
v
er
said
almost
nothing.

“I’m sorry if I
w
as out of line,” he muttered.

Sh
e
turne
d
a
w
a
y
befor
e
h
e
coul
d
se
e
regre
t
i
n
he
r
e
y
es
.
“
Y
our apology is not necessary.”

Se
v
era
l
time
s
sh
e
caugh
t
hi
m
w
atchin
g
her
.
Khar
a
stare
d
at
the
hands
of
the
w
atch,
wishing
they
would
stop.
But
they
marche
d
cursedl
y
to
w
ar
d
th
e
inevitabl
e
momen
t
whe
n
she
must
lea
v
e
this
refuge
and
return
home.
Someday
,
she
thought,
surprised
at
the
depth
of
sadness
that
fell
o
v
er
her
to
think
that
hi
s
fac
e
woul
d
soo
n
b
e
onl
y
a
memory
.
Whe
n
Oli
v
e
r
looked
into her e
y
es, he laid bare her soul.