Relic (25 page)

Chapter Thirty-two

“You hear that?”

I pressed my hand over my mouth, shaking like a leaf.
They can’t see me,
I told myself.
They can’t see me.
But the bald ranger looked awfully suspicious.

“Probably them Apaches,” Jake said, shrugging. “They’ve been prayin’ to their gods all day.”

The bald ranger narrowed his eyes but then slammed the desk drawer shut. “Anyway, guess Leander took the keys,” he said. “We’ll have to use the other set.”

“Want me to bring the wagon around?”

The bald ranger nodded. When Jake left, he opened the drawer again, frowning. I pressed my back to the wall, sidestepping to the door slowly as possible. I wanted to get out of there quickly as I could. But I knew I had to move silent, slow and still. Everything depended on it.

I could hardly believe it as my bare feet came down on the hot sand of the open street. Somehow I’d made it. Air rushed back in my lungs, and I clutched my chest as I ran down the road. The first part of my plan had worked. Now for the next phase. I ran to Mr. Connelly’s personal stables fast as my feet could carry me.

Connelly had assigned me the task of grooming his horses many times when I worked at The Desert Rose. I’d resented the extra jobs, but now I was grateful as I pulled the key to the stables from under the hidden rock. I nearly scared the horses half to death while approaching, but once I’d stashed the goblin relic belt in my apron pocket, saddling and stealing three of Connelly’s stallions went off without a hitch.

After tying them to a mesquite tree by the river, I rushed to my hiding spot back in town. The wagon would drive by any moment. If the plan was going to work, I’d need to have perfect timing. And the perfect distraction.

I looked down at my dress, wrinkled and damp with sweat. My hair was a wild tangle of a braid. I grimaced and smoothed my skirt best as I could, then I pulled my hair free and long. And since this was no time to be prim, I unfastened the top two buttons of my blouse. If Adelaide had taught me anything, it was that a man didn’t think too clearly when he had the sight of a woman’s bosom. Biting my lip, I undid one more button.

The tromp of horse hooves shot me to attention. After a moment, I could hear the creak of a wood wagon. Trembling, I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about Landon, about Ella and Bobby and Adelaide. I had to succeed.

The prison wagon rolled into sight. Jake and the bald ranger sat on the front bench, scanning the landscape. I drew in a breath and jumped to my feet.

“Help!” I ran out into the road, waving my arms like a crazed woman and screaming. “Someone help!”

The horses reared up on their hind legs, whinnying as I stumbled right into their path.

“Help me! Please!”

Jake jerked on the reins. “Whoa! Easy there!”

The horses stamped their feet to a stop. Gasping for breath, I threw myself at the rangers’ feet. “Help me.”

Jake frowned. “Maggie? What’s wrong?”

“It’s too horrible,” I said, covering my face and trying to catch my breath. “It’s just too horrible.”

Through the sliver of space between my fingers, I glanced at the ground beneath the wagon. I saw the feet of Yahn and the other warriors creeping away from the carriage, and a dual jolt of terror and triumph cut through me. Luckily, the crazed look on my face played well into my plan.

I grabbed Jake’s hands. “Some men at The Desert Rose, they’re planning to kill the sheriff!”

The bald ranger tensed. “What?”

“I heard them talking. They’re gonna kill him so he doesn’t get in the way of their attack on the Apache camp. I didn’t know what to do!”

Jake and the bald ranger exchanged a serious look.

“Who was it?” Jake said. “Did you know them, Maggie?”

Acting like I was trying to remember, I cast a swift glance beneath the wagon again. Yahn and the others were running, getting farther and farther away. A cry of relief threatened to escape, but I swallowed it down.

“I don’t remember. I was so afraid.”

The bald ranger frowned. He tossed a casual look behind him, perhaps out of habit, or maybe the man had eyes in the back of his head. He turned back to me, but then tensed like he’d been shot. He spun around again and surely spotted them.

“What in the hell?” He shot to his feet.

Horror nailed me to the ground. I glanced at the escaping prisoners, then the rangers. I must have looked like a woman caught in the act, because comprehension washed over the bald ranger’s face. “Did you—?”

I ran.

I knew I didn’t stand a chance of escaping, but I wasn’t going to throw up my hands and turn myself in, either. Besides, if I could distract their attention from Yahn and the other Apaches’ getaway, it would be worth it.

The rangers shouted behind me. I could hear them scrambling to turn the carriage around, though the horses were screaming again, spooked by the sudden commotion.

“You get the girl!” the bald ranger screamed to Jake. Jake jumped from the carriage, and his heavy footsteps pounded behind me.

Tiny rocks and burs cut my feet as I ran, but I kept going. I’d never run so hard in my entire life. It felt as if my heart would explode out of my chest.

“Maggie!” Jake shouted behind me. He was winded, but so close. So close. “Stop!” He lunged forward to tackle me, but he was a few inches too far behind, so his hands only fastened around my skirt and apron. With a shout, he went tumbling forward. The skirt tore, and the apron ripped from my waist, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet.

Still running at full speed, I dared a look behind me. Jake growled with frustration and struggled to get back up. My apron lay limp in his clenched fist. The goblin relic belt—it was still in the pocket. The sharp impulse to turn back and get it surged through me, but I shook the thought away. I had to keep running.

“Maggie!” Jake called. “What in the hell are you doing?”

The wind in my eyes blurred my vision, but I kept running. I didn’t know what I was doing. Hopefully, buying Yahn more time to escape.

“I don’t want to have to shoot you!” Jake shouted. He was running again, drawing closer and closer.

My lungs burned like a cattle brander in my chest. My head pounded, and the muscles in my legs started to lock up. I flailed down a narrow alleyway crowded with empty wood crates. Ahead of me, a four-foot wall glared in the late sunlight. The end of the road. My heart sank.
I tried, Yahn.

Jake tromped into the alley, gasping for breath.

“Dammit, Maggie.” He sighed, and I heard the dragon claw relic on his rifle click into place. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

My head dropped, and I lifted my arms into the air.

Suddenly, the whinny of a horse sounded behind me, and a row of crates crashed in a spectacular burst of splinters. I whirled around. Yahn, on a midnight-black horse, dashed past Jake, smashing the rows of crates as he went. Before I had time to even tell myself the sight was real, Yahn swooped his arms around my waist and pulled me onto the horse behind him.

Jake, who had been knocked backward by the falling crates, shouted with rage. And then an earsplitting explosion of fire blasted behind us.

“Get down!” Yahn cried.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I clamped my arms around his strong waist. The flames from Jake’s dragon-claw rifle filled the entire alleyway with light and heat, and fire slashed over my bare feet, singeing the ends of my hair and my dress. Every crate in that alley burst into flames.

The horse screamed with terror, but Yahn jabbed his ankles into the animal’s haunches and pulled back on the reins.

In slow motion, the horse leaped at the four-foot wall ahead of us. It kicked into the air, flailing with all its might. The wall sped toward us. We were going to hit. I screamed and buried my face against Yahn’s back.

But then we were airborne.

For a single glistening moment, we soared through the air on unseen falcon wings. We flew over the wall, beyond the mass of flames, beyond Jake’s yells as he ran from the burning alleyway. The horse landed on the other side with a
thud
. It whinnied once and thrashed its head, but Yahn smacked the animal’s side and made a strange, fierce cry. With that, the stallion galloped forward. I clung to Yahn as we raced into the desert beyond Burning Mesa. To the Alkali Mountains. To safety.

I didn’t let go of Yahn until we could see the firelight of the Apache camp glowing through the darkness ahead. We’d ridden deep into the pine forest of the Alkali Mountains on a winding path no one could follow. As we rode, I told him about the attack, but he already knew. One of the guards had taunted them with the information, to ensure their final moments were ones of torment.

When we drew near the camp, Yahn fell quiet. I gazed at the mysterious trees around us, teeming with unseen life. The air was cool and rich with the smell of pine and greenery. It was dark as pitch, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were about to be ambushed, so I kept my arms laced around Yahn, grateful for his protection.

Finally he spoke. “My people might not trust you right away, Maggie. You must not let that discourage you. I will tell them of all you’ve done for me, for all of us.”

“I understand.”

Three scouts moved out of the dark silence of the forest. Who knew how long they had been watching us?

Yahn hopped down from the horse and spoke to them in the Apache language. They cast dubious looks at me, but then motioned us to enter their camp. Yahn gently lifted me from the horse. I could have gotten down on my own, but I was exhausted and saddle sore, and it filled me with a deep comfort to feel the strength of his arms. If only for a moment.

Most of the Apaches had gathered around a huge central fire in the camp. I noticed war paint on the young men and weapons being prepared. The other two Apaches Yahn had been imprisoned with had surely arrived and told them about the impending attack.

The group parted as Yahn and I approached the fire. A gray-haired woman in an elaborate robe approached us, her arms open. Yahn dropped to his knees before her, but she bent to lift him, to take him in her arms, a sheen of tears glinting on her cheeks. For a long time, Yahn and the woman embraced. She had the same liquid brown eyes, and I realized she must be his mother.

When they broke, her glance turned to me, and silence fell over the camp. All watched, their faces lit with wavering shadows from the fire. Yahn began to speak with her in their native tongue. The older woman listened, but her eyes didn’t leave me the entire time.

When Yahn had finished, she continued to study me. For what seemed like forever, the only sound to break the silence was the gentle crackle of the fire and the distant music of crickets. I tried to hold her gaze, my heart beating hard in my chest.

Finally, Yahn’s mother spoke a few words. As if responding to her call, several of the oldest members of the tribe stepped forward, and together, they approached me. I took an instinctive step back, but Yahn’s face was calm. He nodded once, as if to say that everything was all right. I held still, trembling on the inside as they examined me up close, touching my cheek, feeling a piece of my hair.

They spoke together softly, and then stepped back. Yahn’s mother turned to the tribe. She raised her hands in the air for their attention and then motioned to me.

“Sitsi.”

The elders all nodded, murmuring the word. “Sitsi.”

A ripple of reaction passed through the tribe, some surprised, some wary. I looked to Yahn. He stared at me, a stunned expression on his face.

“What are they saying?” I asked, shakily. “What is Sitsi?”

Only in speaking the word did I remember where I had heard it. It was what the Apaches had called to me in my vision with the Djinn relic. “What does it mean, Yahn?”

Yahn looked to his mother, who nodded. He blinked slowly. “Sitsi. It means daughter.”

I could hardly form words. “Why are they calling me that?”

“Because they can see who you are. They can see you are Apache.”

Chapter Thirty-three

Yahn’s mother came forward and set her hands on my face. “Ya ta say, sitsi.”

“She welcomes you,” Yahn said softly.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. You’re saying
I’m
Apache?”

Yahn nodded.

“I’m not. I couldn’t be. My mother…”

Her face drifted into my mind. I pictured her long black hair worn back in a braid. Her soft copper-hued skin and elegant, high cheekbones. She looked… Well, she looked a lot like the women who watched me from the flickering shadows of this camp.

Perhaps seeing the confusion scratched across my face, one of the elders spoke, and Yahn nodded in agreement. “Come,” he said. “They offer us warm food and drink by the fire. I can try to explain, though I am as surprised as you.”

The tribe took their places around the blaze. Pipes were lit, and the painted warriors addressed the elders with serious, tense words. I didn’t have to understand their language to know they were talking about the attack.

I glanced beside me to Yahn. He was watching me already. My face flushed.

“I’m trying to understand this all,” I said, looking absently at the warm but untouched corn cake they’d placed in my hands.

“It must be difficult to grasp.”

All my life, I’d never thought much of Mama’s darker complexion. She only ever talked about her Swedish father, and even as a young child, I understood that she carried a certain measure of shame about her mother’s heritage. But I figured she was simply part Italian or Mexican. I would never have imagined Apache in a hundred years.

“Are these elders certain?” I asked. “How can they tell?”

“They felt the Legacy within you.”

“Legacy?”

Yahn seemed to be searching for the right words. “It is a common spirit within all of our people. A power. A way to communicate with the Sacred Ones. Have you ever felt it? When you held a relic, have you heard the faintest whispers of their souls, still dwelling in the remnants of their bodies?”

His words made my breath catch in my throat. I stared at him in awe. “I have felt it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It was the power of the Sacred Ones, reaching out to you from beyond death.”

Was it possible? Surely there was some other explanation. But as I sat there, staring at the warm, shivering flames, the bare truth of it grabbed me. Thoughts came together in my mind like a shattered pot, joined at last by the crucial but long-missing glue. The voices I’d heard when I was near relics. My enduring fascination with the creatures they once were. The reason Mama hated me wanting to use them. Why I’d never met my maternal grandmother. And why Tom had so quickly taken a liking to me when I started at The Desert Rose—he must have sensed the Legacy within me. It also clarified why he seemed so defensive about betraying his people. Because he was betraying mine as well. Even my vision with the Djinn relic now made sense. Closing my eyes, I could still see the mass of Apaches standing in the flames, calling for me. Daughter. How could it all be a coincidence?

Not only did I, in fact, have a talent with relics, it was clearly a deeper connection than I could ever have imagined.

“It’s strange,” I breathed. “But I believe you.”

“You can feel it, as I do now. It is the Legacy, showing us the truth.”

Our eyes met, and indeed something did pass between us. I just wasn’t sure if it was the Legacy, or something even deeper hidden in my heart. I cast my gaze down into my lap as heat rushed to my cheeks. “This Legacy,” I said, “it’s a bond with other Apaches as well as relics?”

“We are all connected. And not just the Apaches, but also our brothers the Navajo and the Jicarilla. The Chiricahua. All people native to these lands have the Legacy.”

“And that’s why you don’t like the relics being mined out of the mountains.”

“It is the greatest desecration. You have seen what happens when humans try to harness the power of the Sacred Ones.”

“The razings.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why your tribe attacked the excavators’ camp?”

Yahn nodded. “The call for fiercer resistance began last year, when our scouts brought back word of something happening in the mining tunnels near our land. Something evil. Our men sensed the darkness before they had even laid eyes upon the place. It was brought from deep, deep within the earth.”

Comprehension struck me. “The red relic.”

Yahn looked surprised. “You know of it?”

I could almost feel the shadowy bone in my hand, with its eerie black glow and pulsing power. A shudder crawled through me. “I think so.”

“The moment we heard of the first whole town burning, our elders began to fear that this relic was something different. Something ancient—a creature that existed long before the dragon or the griffin or the mermaid. From a time when the Earth was just a sapling, and magic was in its purest elemental state. A fire relic capable of consuming not only the land, but the mind as well.”

“How does it consume the mind?”

“By digging for the most destructive, darkest thoughts of the user and feeding them until those evil impulses take over completely.”

I remembered how, when I wore the relic, my hatred of Mr. Connelly had transformed into an active plan to murder him. How my attraction to Landon turned into a forceful seduction. For so long, I’d been unable to imagine someone evil enough to burn an entire town. But now I could see that with the power of this relic to corrupt, over time, anyone could be that evil.

“We call it Ko Zhin,” Yahn said. “Dark fire.”

“So you know for sure what it is, then? This Ko Zhin?”

His face shadowed. “No. That information has been taken away.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Some truth is so sacred that only a few may know it. Over the centuries, our tribe has honored only two of the elders with that privilege: one man and one woman. The Vessels. Carriers of our sacred stories and the secrets of the Legacy.”

I frowned. “And they won’t tell you what’s going on? Even if your lives depend on it?”

“They cannot tell us now. They are dead, murdered long before the razings began. They sliced the Father Vessel’s throat while he hunted. And the Mother Vessel was killed in the mountains.” His eyes went back to the flames, lost in painful memories.

“My betrothed was the Mother Vessel’s granddaughter, and soon to inherit her honored role. They were together that day. We never found their bodies, only their bags. And my Sika’s dress, torn and covered with blood.”

I stared at him, horrified, and deeply saddened for him. “Who would do such a thing?”

“We do not know. Some suspect the miners. The Mother Vessel was very near their territory. Perhaps they wished to make an example of her.”

Emotion choked my throat like smoke. I thought of Landon, and Mama and Papa and Jeb. No one should have to lose someone they love.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

Yahn said nothing for a while, only stared at the fire, as if his fiancée’s ghost were flickering there in the yellow light. Finally he spoke again. “My heart tells me that their murders had a greater significance. That they were somehow related to the discovery of the Ko Zhin. I believe someone killed them to prevent us from discovering the truth.”

“It must be another Apache. Who else would know about Vessels?”

“There are some,” Yahn said darkly.

A shiver crept over my skin. It seemed no one was safe.

My mind went to Ella with a pang of fear. She was still at the Hacienda, and more vulnerable than ever. If I was part Apache, than so was Ella, and the Legacy would give her increased power with relics as well. It wouldn’t be long before Álvar figured that out. And worse, he now had the perfect way to punish me for my meddling with his plan. Cold panic clawed at me. “I have to go back to the Hacienda. I need to get my sister.”

“It is dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than for you. That mob wants blood.”

“Let them come. We are prepared to face them.”

“You’re outnumbered. And besides, they’ll use relic weapons.”

“We will fight,” Yahn said. “They wish to cast us from these mountains forever, and this is simply their latest justification for doing so. This is a battle that will find us no matter where we run.”

“Well, I won’t let my sister get caught up in it. I have to go back and find her.”

Yahn frowned at the fire, thoughts flickering behind his eyes. Then he looked up. “We will help you. We will go with you.”

“No. I appreciate the offer, but it’s
definitely
too dangerous for you.”

“At least let me accompany you to the border of the Hacienda. I wish to see you safe, Maggie.”

My face warmed. “I would appreciate that.”

Standing at the edge of camp, Yahn’s mother kissed my forehead, thanking me in the Apache tongue for saving Yahn and the others. She told me I was always welcome in their midst, and I prayed silently that they would somehow survive the onslaught that was about to befall them.

The entire tribe saw us off, standing on the edge of the dark forest. They looked as strong and certain as the trees themselves, even though they knew they faced death in the morning. A cold hand tightened around my heart as Yahn and I rode away. I couldn’t take my eyes off the Apaches. My people. After losing so much, the sensation of gaining a family seemed almost too good to be true. I watched the tribe until the glow from their fire was a faint shimmer in the distance.

We rode swiftly down the mountain. I shared the horse with Yahn again, so he wouldn’t be slowed down with two horses on the ride back. Before long, we’d left the cool, wooded darkness of the Alkali Mountains and returned to the familiar red-rock of the desert. It seemed we’d barely started when Yahn pulled the mare to a stop near a cluster of yucca trees, shadowed by the walls of the Hacienda.

As I dismounted, I hesitated, absently adjusting the saddle. I knew a speedy farewell would be best, but the words halted in my throat. I wasn’t ready for this moment of peace to end. I wasn’t ready to be parted from Yahn again.

“Well,” I said, dusting off my skirt, “I guess this is it.”

Yahn nodded. “Find your sister quickly and take her some place hidden.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He fell quiet, his gaze lowered. “I wish I could do more to make sure you are safe.”

“I feel the same.”

“You have done more than I ever imagined. I owe you my life, Maggie.”

“Guess we’re even, then.”

Our eyes met, and neither of us looked away. A soft breeze cut past. Standing there in the moonlight together, with the gentle song of crickets beyond, a warmth spread within me, from my toes to the crown of my head. Both of us were about to face danger, greater danger than we’d ever known, but in that moment, everything felt safe. And I needed that safety. I’d craved it for so long, and there was something about Yahn that brought it, deep in my soul. I’d felt it all those years ago, when we were two outcast kids at the mission school. I felt it when he saved my sister and me from the fire. I didn’t want to lose it.

“I should go,” he said.

“Yes.”

But I didn’t move, and neither did he. I stared at the dark ground and listened to the rhythm of his breathing. Standing this close to him, I was certain I could feel the Legacy that bonded us together. It was what I’d felt all along with him: a closeness. A need to be with him, to see him safe.

“Yahn, did you sense I was Apache? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I did sense a bond to you, but I didn’t recognize it as the Legacy at first.”

My voice was little more than a whisper. “What did you think it was?”

“I was confused,” he said.

“So was I.”

His eyes swept over my face. My body moved closer, as if pulled by an invisible thread.

“But we know now that we are as brother and sister,” he said. “No matter what happens tomorrow.”

“Yes.” I swallowed hard. A brother. Was that what he was to me? Somehow my connection to him felt different…stronger. I pushed away the question. Yahn’s words had reminded me of what mattered most when all was said and done: my sister. I could not lose sight of that.

“Good-bye, Yahn,” I said, keeping my face turned from him. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to look into his eyes.

“Good-bye, Maggie. I will always remember you.”

It sounded so permanent. I closed my eyes to keep myself together but then darted a single look over my shoulder. I had to. If this was the last time I would ever be near him, I wanted to see his face, his beautiful, dark eyes.

There were more words I wanted to say. Words that seared my heart. But I said nothing. I held Yahn’s gaze for a brief moment, then left.