Relic (16 page)

“No.”

“You must, Maggie. There is something I need to see.”

“I can’t. Not that one.”

Moon John motioned to a fat white duck that was paddling happily in the water near us. “Drain his life.”

I was too horrified to speak.

Moon John took my hand. “You do not understand how important it is that I see this.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Trust me when I say, it is
vital
. I must test you with
all
relics.”

“I won’t!”

His grip tightened, and his eyes flashed. “Then I will have to tell Castilla of your insubordination.”

Cornered and panicking, I stared at the shining vampire relic. But then the whisper of a song drifted through my mind. My gaze fell to the cobalt siren piece sitting in Moon John’s lap. Impulse took over. I lunged for the relic and jumped to my feet before the old man could react.

“You won’t make me test the shadow magic,” I said, focusing all my energy on the power of the siren. The cold, calm tide coursed through me. I could see Moon John taken over by the magic, even against his own will. “Our test is over,” I added. “And you won’t tell Álvar any of this.”

Moon John nodded jerkily, as if he were trying with all his might to fight it.

“Do you give your word?” I pressed.

His voice was soft, weak. “Yes.”

A wave of exhaustion pressed on me, and I dropped the siren bone. I felt drained, frightened. I sank down to my knees, staring out at the little duck nibbling at the water plants on the bank.

There was a moment of silence, and then the last thing I expected to hear: Moon John’s deep chuckle. I whipped around to see a smile brightening his face.

“My, my,” he said. “I must say, you continue to surprise me, Maggie Davis.”

That night, after putting Ella to bed, I sat at the window and gazed out at the dark blur of night. I couldn’t stop thinking about the relic test. I still wasn’t any closer to understanding my gift or what Álvar wanted with it, and apparently, neither was Moon John.

“I have theories,” he had said, when I begged him to tell me what it all meant. “A dozen theories, but no facts. I need to think on this more. But in the meantime, be cautious, Maggie. You’ve seen now how Castilla collects and hoards relics. Do not let him collect and hoard you.”

His words echoed in my mind as I stared blankly out the window. The prospect of having a gift with relics had been so exciting at first, but now it frightened me.

A knock came at the door, and Esperanza slipped in with a small package in her hands. She wouldn’t meet my gaze as she set it on my bed and curtsied. When she’d gone, I grabbed for it, frowning. The paper looked slightly mussed, as if the package had been opened and rewrapped. My eyes narrowed and shifted to the door where Esperanza had just left.

With a swipe, I ripped the fold of the package open and upended it. Two small vials, blue as cobalt, fell into my hand. I held one up to the light, gazing with amazement. White shimmers told me what I needed to know. These were relic elixirs. Siren relic, to be exact. Those two vials alone were worth more money than the average man made in a year.

My pulse raced as I searched the package for some indication of the sender. But no note had been stuffed in the package with the elixirs, nor any name scrawled on the front. I unfolded the paper completely, searching every inch in the hopes of finding some clue.

The effort paid off. There, written on the inside edge of the paper wrapping, were a few scrawled words.

Perhaps these will help us obtain the answers we seek.

Chapter Twenty-one

The next morning, the nurses had swept Ella off before I’d even finished dressing. A male servant then escorted me to a rich breakfast of quiche and pastries and fruit. As I sipped the strong Spanish coffee, all I could think of were the siren elixirs. Moon John’s message was clear: the siren magic would make Álvar trust me, open up to me. Exactly what I needed.

Breakfast that morning was served in the sunny inner courtyard, a usual haunt of the lower-ranking Haciendos and Haciendellas as well as the constant stream of guests who ebbed and flowed into the estate. So when Álvar himself breezed in unexpectedly, right as I was plotting to use magic against him, I was certain the color drained from my cheeks. I stood with the other guests and prayed that my thoughts weren’t somehow painted plainly on my face.

“Good morning, Maggie,” he said with his casual charm, as always. “I’m glad I caught you before they swept you off to that garden party.”

I curtsied. “Good morning.”

Álvar motioned for me to sit, and as I did, he took the empty seat beside me. The others at the table went back to their murmur of conversations, but I caught their gazes darting to me, tinged with everything from curiosity to resentment.

“I have something special planned for tonight,” he said, leaning in a bit to confine the conversation to just us. “A very small number of us are taking an excursion to the Harpy Caverns.”

I blinked, uncertain if he were joking. “Last I heard, they were overrun with ghost coyotes.”

Álvar smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You heard correctly.”

“Is flirting with death your idea of amusement, sir?”

He laughed. “No, but hunting a deadly beast with relic magic is. Believe me, nothing compares to the thrill of seeking a foe far more dangerous than you, and fighting him on his own terms, come what may.”

I gave him a sidelong look, unsold, and Álvar patted my arm.

“You will enjoy it. Besides, there is something in those caves I wish for you to see.” He swept out of the courtyard, surrounded by his entourage, leaving thoughts swimming in my head. Hunting ghost coyote sounded like a fool idea if ever I’d heard one, though I knew I should be grateful. Álvar had unwittingly provided me with the perfect opportunity to use that siren elixir.

The night was particularly dark. The moon hung in a thin, pale crescent, and even the stars seemed dimmed by a strange haze. The party exited the carriages at the foot of the towering red-rock cliffs, chattering in nervous, excited whispers. A chill breeze rustled past, making the pinyon bushes nearby shiver. I cast a nervous look around, but part of me knew that even if there
were
ghost coyotes nearby, we wouldn’t see them until too late.

I set a hand to my bodice, feeling terribly aware of the elixir vial, which I’d slid beneath the fabric and tucked into my corset. The tube of glass lay cool against my breast, making my heart race a little every time I thought about it. I only needed a moment alone to slip it out and drink it, but I had to time it right. I didn’t want the magic to wear off before I had a chance to speak with Álvar.

Señor Torres, the Captain of the Guard at the Hacienda, hefted his rifle over his arm and stepped in front of us. “Everyone stay close to me,” he said firmly. “Stray from the group, and you may well find yourself in the jaws of the alpha male.”

An excited murmur rippled through the air. Álvar’s idea of a “small” group consisted of his two personal guards, six Haciendo nobles with their servants, Señor Torres, and a small entourage of beautiful Haciendellas. I guess they saw no point in being brave and reckless without someone to be impressed by it.

“I thought the women would each have a goblin relic,” one of the younger Haciendellas said, her dark eyes wide.

“Of course, Granada,” Álvar said soothingly. “We shall pass them around now.”

Granada gave him of look of demure gratitude. Well practiced, no doubt. Of all the social climbers I’d observed in my time at the Hacienda, she seemed the most intent on catching Álvar’s eye.

Señor Torres frowned. “Even goblin bone cannot conceal your thoughts from the probing minds of the ghost coyotes. Only my sphinx relic will do that, so stay close. Understand?”

Granada nodded, her pretty face painted with appealing fear. She reminded me so much of Adelaide at that moment that I had to smile a little.

As the servants passed out the goblin relics, an eerie howl sliced through the air. It was distant, but the sound made everyone in the group freeze. The ghost coyote was easily one of the most dangerous animals in these parts. I’d only heard stories about them, never seen one. Papa said they could speak to one another with their minds, and that was how they attacked so silently, suddenly, and with such accuracy. I thought of Ella, sleeping in her little bed back at the Hacienda, and wondered again what on earth had possessed me to come on this mad mission.

Álvar, however, looked alive with excitement. “Come,” he said, motioning to the men. “Head for the cave.”

The entrance to the Harpy Caverns looked even more ominous than I’d feared. It was a jagged mouth, waiting to consume us in its depths. A chill gust of wind whistled past, eerie and low, making me almost turn back. But the rest of the group pressed on, so I did as well.

The Haciendellas twittered nervously as Álvar led us into the pitch-black tunnel. He gripped Granada’s hand with a comforting smile, and in that moment, I felt a pang of longing for Landon by my side, to soothe my fears, to confide in. Getting the information I need from Álvar wouldn’t feel nearly so daunting if I had Landon here to help me through. I decided right then that I’d write him a letter as soon as I got back.

The group moved forward, sticking as close as possible to Señor Torres. A rope had been tied around his stone-gray sphinx relic ring, and we all clung tightly to it. I may have been invisible, but somehow that thought didn’t comfort me at all.

When we reached the pure darkness of the caverns, the servants lit green-painted lamps and lifted them on sticks to light our path.

“Coyotes are colorblind,” Álvar said, as if sensing me gaze up at the strange emerald light. “They have trouble seeing green.”

I nodded, grateful to have some light, but the otherworldly color spilled onto the spear-like stalactites, stretching bizarre shadows across our path, and the mournful whistle of wind through the tunnels sent a shiver over me. I stayed as close as possible to the Haciendo in front of me.

The group moved in a swift, silent pack for what felt like an eternity. Around every corner, we found more green shadows and jagged cave formations, but no sign of ghost coyotes. The longer we walked, the more the energy that had first electrified the group disintegrated. The women took off their goblin relics, and some were starting to complain in grumbling whispers of the cold or their tired feet. Even skittish Granada was looking bored.

After a long, dark stretch of cavern, as we squeezed through one narrow pass, a strange awareness tugged in my chest. At first, I almost didn’t notice it, but the farther we walked through the pass, the more I felt it. It was a dull ache, a wanting. It grew stronger until finally the sensation made me stop in my tracks. My hand drifted away from the rope as I turned to search my dim surroundings.

In the faint green darkness, a hidden tunnel peeked out from behind a cluster of stalagmites. Something about its bent, gaping maw made my breath catch. I didn’t quite know how, but a sureness settled deep within my gut that something important lay beyond those cool shadows. Something powerful. Something magical.

I walked closer. I could just make out a worn wood frame around the entrance. Was this once a mining tunnel? The closer I drew to it, the darker my surroundings became. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder—the group, the light, was pressing on without me. I shot a regretful glance at the tunnel, but the last thing I needed was to get lost here in the pitch black.

I turned back to the others. The faint green glow ahead proved they hadn’t gone too far. I jogged toward them.

And then, like white lightning, something stabbed into my mind.

Heat, paralyzing me. I tried to blink the feeling away, but it persisted. Like a pair of hands wrapping around my mind, searching, probing. It was almost as if I could see myself standing alone in the passage of the cavern. So vulnerable.

Only then did I realize what was going on. And before I could react, or even think, a series of pale flashes streaked across my path and around me. And then I saw him right before me—the white face of a ghost coyote, his eyes the color of silver moons. I’d never seen anything so beautiful…or so terrifying.

I wanted to scream, but the alpha coyote still had his grip on my mind, and I could do nothing. The pack surrounded me in a circle. I couldn’t take my eyes off the alpha’s steel gaze—it was calm but piercing. Almost human. In that moment, I felt the strangest connection to him. Somehow facing death in his jaws didn’t seem so unbearable.

But then a shot echoed through the cave, and men’s shouts ricocheted off the arched stone above. With yips and growls of rage, the pack scattered to attack. The alpha snapped his large head to the side, and his grasp on my mind released. I staggered back, dizzy and nauseated. I could hear Álvar sounding the charge.

“I’m here!” I screamed. “Help!”

Green light burst around the corner. Men spilled out as well. Everywhere gunshots reverberated through the cavern. Señor Torres grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the side with the rest of the women. They were still invisible, thanks to the goblin relics, but I could hear their frightened whimpers.

“Get your relic out, foolish girl,” he snapped.

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

After a while, the chaos of shouts and growls and gunshots subsided. The Haciendellas and I waited in tense silence. But then we heard whoops and laughter deep in the cave.

“They got something!” Granada, the social climber, said, her face materializing as she put away her goblin relic.

Sure enough, a servant appeared to guide us back to the central cavern and partake of the victory. A fire had been built in the center of the largest space and a fruit-and-cheese platter arranged on a makeshift table. The Haciendellas, exhilarated by the danger and excitement of the hunt, raced up to the nobles to chatter and laugh delightedly. The coyote had been laid out on display, a lean white mass of fur. I stepped over to check its face. For some reason, I hoped fiercely that it wasn’t the alpha.

A quick look confirmed it wasn’t.

“Quite the adventure, wasn’t it, Maggie?” Álvar looked immensely pleased as I turned to face him, and I took that to assume he’d made the kill shot that brought down the prey. I looked back at the beautiful animal, graceful even in death.

“I can’t say I’d be game to try it again, but it was definitely an experience,” I said.

Álvar laughed. “Indeed it was. You had us all worried for a moment there.”

My face flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stray off.”

“I think I know why you did.”

I frowned, and Álvar offered me his arm. “Come. Do you remember that I wished to show you something?”

Taking a green lamp with us, we delved back into the depths of the cave. Very quickly, I realized that we were headed once again to the strange tunnel that had gotten me into all the trouble. I cast a sidelong look at Álvar. Did he feel the same power coming from within? Did he know what it meant? Deep down, Mama’s voice in my head scolded me for going off into a dark cave alone with him like this. But my curiosity burned stronger.

When we stood in front of the tunnel once again, shivers prickled my skin. That same
awareness
thrummed inside of me.

“Is this what you fell behind to see?” Álvar asked, holding up his lamp.

Spears of green light shot into the crooked opening, but only darkness peered back at us.

“Yes,” I said. “What is it?”

“A relic mining tunnel. A very important one.” Álvar had a casual expression on his face, but an intensity trembled at the edge of his voice. “Tell me, do you feel anything strange?”

“Yes. Is that normal?”

His eyes gleamed in the green light. “No.”

“What does it mean?”

“That you have a gift,” he said, smiling, but I felt strongly that he was concealing something. I thought of the siren relic against my bosom. If I could just sneak away for a single moment…

“There is a man I would like to introduce you to,” Álvar said, breaking my train of thought. “An expert on the study of relics. A genius, really. I’ve known him for many years. I studied his writings on relics first and then, over time, built up a correspondence with him. You will never meet a man more well versed in all things pertaining to the ancient beasts that ruled this earth.” His expression looked guarded. “I told him of your unique gifts, and he seemed very eager to meet you.”

I’d never heard Álvar speak with such enthusiasm for learning about relics. I assumed he gathered them like treasures, but it appeared he had a genuine interest in the study of them.

“I’d be happy to meet this expert,” I said. “I imagine that would be very enlightening.”