Qaletaqa (44 page)

Finally we all stood back and tearfully said
goodbye. I knew one of us would die. Not a single vision had shown
the Matwau’s death without a life being sacrificed to make it
possible. Talon was an animal, but his death was no less profound
than a human’s. He gave his life for Uriah. Animal or not, his
sacrifice would never be forgotten by any of us.

Or by the gods.

We were about to turn away when the sands
around our feet shifted. Exactly where we had buried Talon, a tiny
green shoot sped out of the sand. It grew quickly, turning white
and blooming the familiar rounded leaves of an aspen tree. Within
seconds it was fully grown, but the gods weren’t finished yet.
Everywhere, tiny trees sprang out of the sand. Pines and aspens
both grew up to fill the once desolate valley with life. It wasn’t
the only change.

When we had first come to the valley, the
evil power of the dark gods had been felt in every particle of
sand, very breath. Now peace filled the valley. Thick and warm, it
wrapped around us like a promise made between friends. Never again
would this valley be filled with death. Never again would there be
a monster like the Matwau. I took a deep breath the slipped my hand
into Uriah’s. He pulled me against him and we walked away, into a
future completely unknown.

Epilogue

The excruciating pain showed only in the
slight lines of tension in her neck. Claire’s face was filled with
serenity. Slow rhythmic breaths moved in and out of her body.
Claire had lost her power when we fought the Matwau, but she held
onto the meditation techniques Kaya had taught her. She employed
every one of them now.

Having Kaya here with us was as comforting
for Claire as having her mom with her. Quaile stood back, a little
apart from everyone else as usual, but much of the barriers she had
once kept had been pulled down. She was in our home often now, as a
friend. That had not been easy to negotiate. We had all changed a
lot since Claire and I first approached her and Elder’s. Today we
were more concerned with physical changes than any other kind.
Poised on the bed between Kaya and her mother, Claire drew on their
strength. My mom stood next to me, gripping my hand, as she waited
for her first grandchild to be born.

Two bundles of blankets and layettes sat
waiting on the cabinet. Blue and Pink. We could have gone to Santa
Fe to learn the sex of the baby, but I think we were both too
afraid to find out. We were both worried we would hear the doctor
say it was a boy.

A boy who would follow me around and learn
from me like I did from my father was something I wanted very
badly, but not yet. First, I wanted my little girl. I knew her
face. I dreamed about her every night.

Kaya’s vision was brief, my little daughter
running happily across the wooden floors of my childhood home, and
gave no indication of whether she would be the first or the last,
but I needed to see her now. I needed to know that the promises the
vision had made would truly be given. In the three years since
coming home, Claire and I had been happy together. Our wedding the
following summer was beautiful and filled with the people we loved,
with the exception of my father.

Claire’s father, though, was there and
surprisingly gracious. He had apologized for everything the moment
he found out we were back in San Juan. Claire had told me about how
he’d helped her, but it had still been a shock. It took a while for
me to get used to being openly welcomed in his presence. It was a
rare thing now to have him argue with me about anything. He called
me his son, and the only reason he wasn’t in the room now was
because Claire’s mother had forbid him. She had already gone
through two deliveries with him and said that was enough.
Apparently he didn’t handle the pressure very well. He was waiting
in the living room.

We had been happier than we ever expected to
be since returning, but that lingering doubt that life was truly
moving forward had plagued me and Claire both. Did Talon really
have to die? Was Claire giving up the ability to see into our
family’s future and protect the people she loved worth the
sacrifice? Had every choice been the right one?

When Claire announced she was pregnant last
spring the dreams of my daughter started. They weren’t the kind of
dreams Claire used to have, just my own hopes and fears played over
and over in my mind. They baited me into questioning the choices
that had led me here, and at the same time reassured me this was
where I was supposed to be.

Claire’s breathing started to quicken. Her
hands squeezed her mother’s more tightly. Nodding her silent
approval that it was time, Sophia positioned herself at Claire’s
feet. I didn’t think I breathed the whole time. Waves of pain
rolled through her, but she bore it as best she could.

Months earlier Claire had decided that her
mom and Kaya would help her through the delivery. She wanted me to
be ready to help with the baby as soon as it was born. That didn’t
last very long. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Claire beckoned me
to her side. Together we rode out the pain and were rewarded with
the piercing cry of a child.

“Go help with the baby,” Claire whispered as
she sank down into the bed.

Kissing her forehead quickly, I turned Claire
back over to her beaming mother and rushed to Sophia’s side. She
already had the baby wrapped in a receiving blanket. A pink one.
Fresh tears welled in my eyes and my breath suddenly escaped
me.

“It’s a girl?”

“It’s a girl,” Sophia said. “A beautiful baby
girl.”

Shifting slightly, she held the child out to
me. I hesitated for just a second. Would it be her? Slowly, I
reached out and took my infant daughter in my arms. Her little
mouth opened wide in a yawn before closing again. Bright eyes
peered up at me and I knew. The round little face was years younger
than the one I had seen in Kaya’s vision, but I knew it was her.
Every ounce of doubt I had fell away. Claire lifted her tired head
as I held the baby up for her to see, taking in the color of the
blanket with a sigh of relief, but her eyes still held a question.
My grin was answer enough.

“Hello, little one,” I cooed. “I’m so glad to
finally meet you.”

“What will you name her?” Sophia asked.

I shook my head. “We haven’t decided
yet.”

I nodded to Kaya and she started toward me.
Quaile leaned forward in anticipation. Claire said that Kaya would
know what the baby’s name was supposed to be when she held the
child. It was Quaile’s rightful place, but she had been the one to
suggest Kaya stand in for her. I had no idea what made Claire so
sure about this, but I didn’t question her.

Claire was anxious to hold the baby, but Kaya
reached out for our daughter and I carefully handed her over. I set
her down in Kaya’s arms and went to Claire’s side. The baby’s hand
reached out and took hold of Kaya’s finger when she tried to stroke
the infant’s cheek. The moment they touched, everything froze. It
was as if the whole room had taken a deep breath and held it tight.
Eyes wide in surprise, I didn’t move at all. Not until a single
tear slid down Kaya’s face.

That one little drop of salty amazement
filled the room with life again. I almost staggered under the
sudden change. Glancing at Kaya, Claire and I were both at a loss
for words to explain what had just happened. Our question was
silent, but Kaya answered through joyous tears.

“Your daughter’s name is Aylen. Happiness.
And she will live an amazing life.”

The End of Book Three

Also by DelSheree
Gladden

Escaping Fate

Twin Souls: Book One of the Twin Souls Saga

Qaletaqa: Book Three of the Twin Souls Saga

Inquest: Book One of the Destroyer Trilogy

(Coming September 2012)

Check out this Sneak Peek of

Inquest: Book One of The Destroyer Trilogy

Chapter 1

Imagined Perfection

I never thought
someone I loved would try to kill me. But when you know you’re
going to do something worse, does that make it okay? Should you
hope for that person to succeed?

The numbers on my
phone glare back at me, reminding me that I only have six hours
left to live. Guardian law is absolute. Another minute passes and
the urge to hide grows. It’s a familiar feeling. One I’ve quietly
obeyed most of my life. Hide my talents, my power, my destiny. Lie
when I’m questioned. Do whatever it takes to keep my secret safe.
I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but it won’t matter in six hours. I
will be revealed for who and what I am, and there’s nothing I can
do to stop it.

I just wish my best
friend, Jen, would stop talking about it so I can put it out of my
mind. Not that she knows what is going to happen tonight, of
course, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to snatch the hot
pink daisy right out of her bouncy blond hair and stuff it in her
mouth. Keeping myself from breaking down into a trembling puddle of
fear is hard enough without her non-stop jabbering.

“I can’t believe in a
few hours you’ll have a new name, Libby.”

Neither can I, but I
say, “What’s the big deal, Jen? It’s just my Inquest. Everyone goes
through theirs. It’s the law. Everyone gets a new name they never
even use. Everyone goes on with their lives like nothing happened.
It’s not a big deal.”

“What about your
talents being unlocked, and the diktats? Those are definitely a big
deal.”

My fingers
subconsciously rub the smooth skin of my left wrist. It won’t stay
smooth for much longer. After my Inquest, the diktats will mar me
for the rest of my life, however short that might be.

Jen notices me poking
at my skin and raises a smug eyebrow. I turn away from her before
she thinks too hard about what wrist I was fiddling with and shove
a book back into my locker. When I slam the door shut, irritated
that she’s seeing through my false confidence, her expression is
even haughtier. Her green eyes pierce me in a way that makes me
look away. Despite the fact that I wish she’d just leave me alone
right now, Jen’s ability to see through my bravado is why she’s my
best friend. I need someone who can keep me grounded.

“Well, I can’t wait
for my Inquest,” Jen says. “I think getting a new name and finding
out what my talents are and what job they’ll assign me to is going
to be awesome.”

“I already know what
my talents are. Painting, sketching, give me a pencil or a brush
and I’ll do whatever you want with it. Those are my only talents.”
At least as far as anyone else knows those are my only talents. And
I am praying my guts out that it will stay that way. The Inquisitor
is old, really old. Maybe he won’t see anything in me tonight.
That’s my only hope now, and it’s a pretty slim one. “Why do I need
some old man to tell me I’m going to be an artist? My school
schedule isn’t even going to change. Nothing is going to change.
The whole thing is just a big waste of time.”

“Those aren’t the
talents I’m talking about, and you know it.”

Now it’s my turn to
feel superior. My dark eyebrows lift in a smirk. “Oh really? Why do
you think I prefer organic oil paints, or why I use natural
horsehair brushes over synthetic? Why don’t I ever wear fabrics
that aren’t made of natural fibers?”

Jen’s berry colored
lips pop open in excitement. “You think Naturalism is going to be
one of your talents? That’s great, Libby. You’ll be in the Creator
class, then. If you have a Common name you’ll be screwed, stuck in
some boring job like a gardener or something. A Warrior name would
be a little better, but not much. An Iconic name, though, you’d be
scooped up as a state-funded artist for sure. That would be so
awesome!” She pauses, her enthusiasm waning. “Knowing so much
already kind of ruins the surprise, though, doesn’t it?”

“My thoughts exactly.
I already know what the Inquisitor is going to tell me. Why
go?”

“Why? Because the
Guardians will hunt you down and drag you back to the Inquisitor if
you try to run away from your Inquest, that’s why. Besides, you
don’t know everything,” Jen reminds me. “You still have to find out
your name. There’s no way you can know that already.”

I roll my eyes and
lean against my locker. Two bulky guys from the football team
rumble down the hall, pausing in their heckling of each other to
look over at us. After seeing that my boyfriend, Lance, isn’t
around, they turn away without acknowledging me. I frown at them
before reluctantly turning my attention back to Jen. I really wish
she would just drop the subject all together and let me focus on
trying not to throw up. “Who cares what my name is going to be?
Like I said before, nobody ever actually uses their true name. I
don’t see the point in even getting one.”

“You of all people
should want a new name.”

“It will probably be
awful, anyway.”

Flopping against the
locker next to me, Jen lets out an exasperated breath. “Your
parents already covered that one. I mean, seriously, who would ever
choose Libitina? You’re named after a roman death goddess, for
crying out loud! Like any kid wants that following them through
school. Creepy. It sounds like some kind of Goth ballerina freak.
Your parents must have been high, or something.”

“It’s an old family
name, supposedly.” I’m more inclined to believe that my mom knew
she’d hate me from the moment she met me.

“What, did your family
pop out of a Bram Stoker novel or something? Anyway, there’s no way
you’d get stuck with another name like that. Fate can’t be that
cruel.”