Relic

Praise for Renee Collins’s RELIC

“RELIC is like nothing else I’ve read—a historical fantasy teeming with ghost coyotes, duplicitous Haciendos, sexy cowboys, and dangerous relic magic. I loved spending time in Collins’s magnificent reimagining of the Old West!”

—Jessica Spotswood, author of
Born Wicked

“A magically romantic tale of how the West should’ve been won. Collins’s debut drew me in and held me until the breathtaking end.”

—Kasie West, author of
Pivot Point

“Weaving the allure of the Old West with layers of magic, Collins’s debut is an intriguing, enchanting ride.”

—Kiersten White, author of
Paranormalcy

RELIC

Renee Collins

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Renee Collins. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Edited by Stacy Abrams

Cover design by Alexandra Shostak

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-015-5

Print ISBN 978-1-62266-014-8

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition September 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
“The Red River Valley,” Smith & Wesson.

To Diana: the best friend, sister, and Story Consultant a girl could ever ask for.

Chapter One

We were home alone the night that Haydenville burned. Mama and Papa had gone to a political meeting and left me in charge. I was sixteen, old enough to keep an eye on my younger brother and sister. Or so my folks figured. They had no way of knowing how I would be tested.

The evening started off so calm. Crickets were singing in the sagebrush, and the oppressive heat of daytime had been swept away by a velvety breeze, which drifted in through the open windows. Ella was playing with Sassy’s new litter of kittens up in the loft, and Jeb sat by the fire, polishing the brand-new gun he’d gotten for his fourteenth birthday the week before. I was scraping a broom over the floor of our little one-room house, trying my best to banish the red-orange sand that seemed our constant companion. But my mind soon drifted from my chores.

I stood in the doorway, in the warm twilight, gazing at the vast desert beyond. It stretched endlessly in either direction, with nothing but sage and rocks and the occasional rabbitbrush to break the monotony. The dark smudge of Haydenville sat on the horizon, a small spit of a town, not much more interesting than the cactus. It always made me feel lonesome to stare out at the stillness around us.

As I leaned my head against the doorframe and watched the first star pierce through the indigo sky, a reckless wish burned in my heart. I gazed up and let myself envision a sleek dragon diving out of the scrape of clouds, a creature long extinct, returned to breathe life back into this barren place. I pictured the ancient animal curling around the moon and soaring over the red-rock cliffs beyond our house. But as it swept downward, a strange glow on the horizon caught my attention.

I straightened, squinting in the direction of the wavering light. It was a wide line of orange spreading across the dark landscape in the distance, painting the night sky a deep amber. The breeze that drifted past my cheek carried the distinct scent of smoke. This was no figment of my imagination. This was fire.

And it was coming from Haydenville.

The broom slid out of my fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Maggie?”

I met my brother’s gaze, and his brow furrowed. “What is it?” he asked, tightening his grip on the rifle as he stood. “A rock devil?”

“Fire.” I pointed, my heart beating fast. “In the town.”

Jeb raced to my side and gripped the doorframe. “God Almighty,” he breathed. “The whole street’s burning.” Then he gave me a sharp look. “Mama and Papa.”

“I’m sure they’re okay,” I said, more confidently than I felt. “They would have seen the fire before it spread. They’re probably on their way back right now.”

Jeb squinted at the horizon, now rippling in the heat. “Someone
is
coming. A whole bunch of people…”

A row of separate flames undulated in the twilight. Torches. They moved across the desert toward us with a speed that could only mean they were carried on horseback.

“Maybe
most
people in the town got out,” I said, but my voice faded away.

Jeb stared hard at the fast-moving torches. “I don’t think so, Maggie.”

We looked at each other, and the same thought came to us.

“Ella,” I whispered.

I scrambled up the loft ladder, struggling to stay calm. I had to keep it together until Mama and Papa got home. I just wished they’d hurry.

Ella was lying on her back, holding a squirming kitten over her chest. “Look at this little orange one, Mags,” she said. “Isn’t she the sweetest thing you…”

As her large brown eyes fixed on me, the smile dropped from her face. “What’s wrong?”

She was only seven, but she had a real knack for reading people’s faces.

“You need to come down,” I said, reaching for the kitten.

Ella pulled it out of my grasp. “Hey! I was holding her.”

“You can have her back in a minute. Right now, we need to talk.”

She held her pet close, scowling at me. I clenched my jaw. Sometimes that girl tried my patience like none other. “You come right now, or Mama’s gonna hear about this.” I grabbed the kitten and set it on the mattress.

“I want Jeb,” she said, sitting up angrily.

Jeb was her favorite. Ever since she could walk, she’d followed him like a shadow. I wrapped my hand around her wrist. “You can talk to him when you come down. Now move it.”

We climbed down the ladder steps swiftly. Jeb was standing in the doorway, watching the fire, his rifle poised. Ella ran up to him, hugging his pant leg. He stroked her hair absently but kept his gaze on the flames. I came up behind him, looking at the burning desert beyond us. Staring back at me was the undeniable reality: Mama and Papa weren’t going to reach home before those torches did. Our safety now rested in my hands alone.

“We gotta get out of here,” I said under my breath to Jeb.

“And go where?”

“To the hiding spot, just like we always talked about.”

Jeb grimaced. “We don’t need to do that. I can protect us here.”

“Don’t be a fool. You barely know how to use that gun.”

“I do, too!”

“It doesn’t matter. Mama and Papa put
me
in charge, and I’m sayin’ we go to the hiding place.”

Ella pulled on Jeb’s arm. “What’s goin’ on?”

He hoisted her up against his hip. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, baby girl.”

It surprised me how calmly he spoke the lie. My anxiety was surely written all over my face.

I turned away from them, trying to mask my fear as busyness. “Help your brother grab some coats and blankets,” I said. My gaze fell to the floor beneath Mama’s and Papa’s bed. “And some water…”

I bent down and lifted up the quilt. After feeling around a moment, I located the loose floorboard and, beneath it, the small jewelry box. My heart quickened as I set the box on my lap. Our family’s single relic lay inside on dark velvet. Kraken.

At first glance, it was little more than an almond-sized piece of bone, oval cut, which was one of the more popular styles. It had been polished a clouded blue-green color. Only exceedingly rare types were diamond clear. Papa had it set in a silver necklace, another common choice for relic wearing. My breath trembled as I lifted it into my palm. I’d dreamed of the day I would be allowed to use it for the first time. This remnant of the ancient world, live with magic.

“What are you taking that for?” Jeb asked, looking over my shoulder. “It’s too small. That thing doesn’t have enough magic to ward off a vampire scorpion, let alone whoever’s coming.”

“You got any better ideas?”

It was true that the relic wouldn’t help much if those people with the torches meant to cause trouble. Kraken bone fossils possessed only water magic, and a pebble-sized piece like we had could barely contract or expand water as needed. Papa had spent our savings on it to help keep our animals and ourselves alive, should we ever have another drought like the one that had nearly killed us three years before.

I knew Jeb, like me, was wishing right now that Papa had bought a dragon claw or phoenix piece, or any of the other fire relics I’d read about. Not that we could ever even dream of affording such rare, potent ones, but still, I wished it. So many nights, I’d lie in my bed, turning the worn pages of Papa’s relic almanac by candlelight. The more I learned about all the fierce and wonderful relics out there, the more keenly I felt that the day might come when we’d need something better.

And now, we were face-to-face with that day.

I clutched the kraken piece to my chest. “It’s all we have.”

Ella pulled the fabric of my worn calico skirt. “Someone’s gotta tell me what’s happening.”

“Everything’s going to be fine. Looks like there was some trouble in the town, that’s all. We need to head to our hiding spot and wait for Mama and Papa.”

“The hiding place?” Her expression went from shock to resolute fear. “No. I’m not goin’. There’s rock devils up there!”

Every settler knew to stay away from the red-rock cliffs that cast their huge shadow over our little town. The rock devils, horse-sized lizards with endless teeth and claws like hunting knives, lived in the shadowed nooks and caves. Though not magical like their ancient relative, the dragon, rock devils were the most dangerous creature to haunt our desert lands. And with rattlers, vampire scorpions, and ghost coyotes behind every sagebrush, that was really saying something. But that was exactly why Papa said we should hide in the cliffs in case of trouble. Because no one would dare come after us.

“We don’t have a choice,” I told Ella. “We gotta go.”

She ran into Jeb’s arms. He held her and looked at me, his jaw clenched. I gave him my firmest look, and he sighed. “Fine. But I’m bringing my gun.”

The three of us rushed into the warm night. The minute we were out, though, Ella slammed her little heels into the ground.

“The kittens!” She gasped. “We forgot Sassy and the kittens!”

Jeb gripped Ella’s hand to keep her from running back. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get out in time.”

But we all knew the kittens couldn’t make it down the loft ladder on their own.

“I won’t leave them!” Ella cried, tears springing to her eyes.

I rubbed my forehead. There was barely time to save ourselves, let alone the animals. But how could we leave them to die?

“You two go on ahead,” I said.

“Maggie…”

“Go! I’ll catch up.”

Jeb hesitated, but then nodded once. Holding Ella’s hand, he ran for the cliffs as I dove back into our house. Sassy hissed at the edge of the loft, surely sensing the danger.

“It’s all right,” I said, climbing up the ladder. “We’ll get you out.”

The kittens mewed loudly as I scooped them up into my apron. But when we got outside, I realized all I could do was release them and hope for the best.

“Run, Sassy girl,” I said as they scampered into the darkness. “Get on out of here with those babies.”

I had to get
myself
out of there. The burning line of torches on the horizon looked closer than ever, and it filled me with a wild, shaking panic. I turned to run, but then my gaze fell on Dusty, our horse, peacefully padding his hooves in the sand of the corral. He was a good horse, hard working and gentle with children. I couldn’t leave him, either.

It wasn’t until I reached the gate that I remembered the lock. Put there to keep horse thieves away. Papa always carried the key with him.

“No…”

I gripped the fence, but the realization struck that it stood too high for Dusty to jump, even if I did climb it. I shook the wooden planks, then threw myself against them. They hardly budged. I slammed into the fence once more, to no avail. I could hear Jeb calling my name in the distance; the raw fear in his voice only sharpened my own. I looked to the shadowy cliffs, to the approaching fire, and then back to Dusty. Choking down a lump in my throat, I patted his glossy neck and prayed he’d somehow make it out all right.

I ran hard all the way to the cliffs, sagebrush and scrub scraping against my legs. Jeb and Ella were waiting outside the mouth of the little cave. When they spotted me, they rushed up, and we hugged. “It’s okay,” I said. “We made it. We’re gonna be okay.”

I flopped to the ground of our hiding spot. We called it a cave, but it was little more than a crawl space. If anyone
did
come looking for us, we’d be done for.

Ella climbed into Jeb’s lap, trembling. With his free hand, he gripped his gun, his eyes fixed in the direction of our house. “I should try to get help,” he said, shaking his head.

“No,” I said sharply. “We’re staying right here until Mama and Papa find us.”

But
would
they find us? Were they all right? Try as I might, I couldn’t shake the thought of a raid we’d heard of not two weeks before. A tiny town called Buena—just a general store, bank, and livery—burned to the ground. No one survived. People blamed the Apaches—everyone knew they were ready to go to war over the relic mining in the hills and mountains. Likely that had been the first attack of many. I still hadn’t made up my mind whether to believe the stories or not, but suddenly they didn’t seem so far-fetched.

I stared at Ella and prayed inwardly for my parents. In this light, Ella and Jeb looked so much like Papa; they shared the same golden hair and big brown eyes. Even the same freckles on their noses and cheeks. Everyone said I was the spitting image of Mama, with my black hair, amber eyes, and a touch of copper to my skin. Josiah, our brother two years younger than Jeb, had looked a lot like Mama, too, when he was alive. The Good Lord took him when he was ten. Pneumonia.

In the distance, the sharp, panicked whinny of a horse cut through the air, and my spine straightened. Jeb’s as well. We both recognized the sound.

Dusty.

Listening with my breath clenched in my throat, I could make out the low, rumbling sounds of men’s voices. Then the repeated shatter of glass. Ella shot up.

“Our house!” Her voice sounded small and pained. I squeezed her hand.

Through the distance, Dusty’s whinny came again. Louder. More panicked. Then the blast of gunshots.

And the whinnying stopped.

Jeb and I were on our feet. I couldn’t breathe for the tension in my chest. “Why are they doing this?”

His eyes were distant with horror. “Mama…”

I grabbed his hand. I wanted to tell him that Mama and Papa were probably laying low somewhere or gathering a group of men to surround those attackers and put them to justice. But the words felt like sand in my mouth. All I could do was hold onto his hand as hard as possible.

An acrid wave of smoke blew against us, stinging my throat. In the distance, the glow of our burning home lit the sky. As I looked harder, I realized that the flames were moving, traveling over the rabbitbrush and sage that dotted the landscape. Heading this way.

They took the dry shrubs at terrifying speed, faster than any normal fire should. Men’s voices rumbled on the air, so close that the hairs on my arms stood on end.

“They’re coming,” I whispered.

Jeb’s brow lowered. “We gotta make a run for it.”

The thought froze my very bones, but he was right. We couldn’t stay in the cave. Either the fire or those men would reach this place in a matter of seconds. With a shaky nod to Jeb, I knelt down by Ella.