Текст книги "Awakened"

Автор книги: P. C. Cast

Соавторы: Kristin Cast,P. C. Cast
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“Tonight you asked for forgiveness. Zoey gave one answer. I shall give you another. Forgiveness is a very special gift, and it must be earned.”

“I ask humbly that you share that special gift with me, Nyx,” Neferet said, still bowing her head and hiding her face.

“When you earn the gift, you will receive it.” Abruptly, the Goddess turned from Neferet, her attention turning to the Sword Master, who closed his fist over his heart respectfully to her. “Your Anastasia is free of pain and remorse. Will you make Damien’s choice, and learn to rejoice in the love you had and move on, or will your choice destroy that which she loved so much about you—your ability to be both strong and merciful?” Rephaim was watching Dragon, waiting for a response from the Sword Master that did not come, when Nyx spoke his name.

“Rephaim.”

He looked Nyx full in the face for only an instant, and then Rephaim remembered what he was and he bowed his head in shame and spoke the first words that flooded his mind. “Please don’t look at me!”

He felt Stevie Rae’s hand slide into his. “Don’t worry. She’s not here to punish you.”

“And how do you know that, young High Priestess?”

Stevie Rae’s grip tightened spasmodically on his hand, but her voice didn’t falter. “ ’Cause you can see into his heart, and I know what you’ll find there.”

“What do you believe is in the Raven Mocker’s heart, Stevie Rae?”

“Goodness. And I don’t think he’s a Raven Mocker anymore. His daddy released him. So now I think he’s a-a new kinda, uh, boy-who’s-never-been-before.” She tripped over the words, but managed to finish.

“I see you are bound to him,” was the Goddess’s enigmatic response.

“I am,” she said firmly.

“Even if your bond means splitting this House of Night, and perhaps, this world, in two?”

“My mama used to prune her roses real fierce, and I thought she was gonna hurt them, maybe kill them. When I asked her about it she told me sometimes you have to cut away the old stuff to make room for the new. Maybe it’s time to cut away some old stuff,” Stevie Rae said.

Her words surprised him so much that Rephaim turned his eyes from the ground to Stevie Rae. She smiled at him and at that moment, he wished more than anything else, he could smile back at her and take her in his arms like a real boy would be able to do, because what he saw in her eyes was warmth and love and happiness with not even the slightest glimpse of remorse or rejection.

Stevie Rae gave him the strength to look up at the Goddess and meet her infinite gaze.

And what he saw there was familiar because mirrored in Nyx’s eyes was the same warmth and love and happiness he’d seen within Stevie Rae’s gaze.

Rephaim dropped Stevie Rae’s hand so that he could close his fist over his heart, in the ancient, respectful greeting. “Merry meet, Goddess Nyx.”

“Merry meet, Rephaim,” she said. “You are the only child of Kalona’s to turn from the rage and pain of your conception, and the hatred that has filled your long life, and seek Light.”

“None of the others had Stevie Rae,” he said.

“It is true that she influenced your choice, but you had to be open to her and respond with Light instead of Darkness.”

“That hasn’t always been my choice. In the past I’ve done terrible things. These Warriors are right to want me dead,” Rephaim said.

“Do you regret your past?”

“I do.”

“Do you choose a new future where you pledge yourself to my path?”

“I do.”

“Rephaim, son of the fallen immortal Warrior Kalona, I accept you into my service, and I forgive you for the mistakes of your past.”

“Thank you, Nyx.” Rephaim’s voice was rough with emotion as he spoke to the Goddess, his Goddess.

“Will you thank me when I tell you that though I forgive you and accept you, there are consequences you must pay for the choices of your past?”

“No matter what comes next, for an eternity I will thank you. This I swear,” he said with no hesitation.

“Let us hope that you will have many, many years to live up to your oath. Know then that this is your consequence.” Nyx raised her arms as if she could cup the moon in the palms of her hands. It seemed to Rephaim she was gathering light from the stars themselves. “Because you have awakened the humanity within you, I will, each night from setting sun to rising sun, gift you with this: the true form you deserve.” The Goddess hurled the glowing power that had coalesced between her hands at him. It shuddered through his body, causing a pain so terrible that he screamed in agony and crumpled to the ground. As he lay there, paralyzed, the Goddess’s voice was the only sound that broke through to him. “To atone for your past, by day you will lose your true form and return to that of the raven, who knows nothing except the base desires of a beast. Consider well how you use your humanity. Learn from the past and balance the beast. So I have spoken—so mote it be!”

The pain was beginning to recede and Rephaim was able to look up at the Goddess again as she opened her arms to take in everyone and said joyously, “I leave the rest of you with my love, if you so choose to accept it, and my desire that you will always blessed be.”

Nyx disappeared in what looked like an explosion of the moon. The brightness of it was blinding, which didn’t help Rephaim’s lingering confusion. His body felt strange, unfamiliar, dizzy … Rephaim looked down at himself. His shock was so intense he could not, for a moment, comprehend what he saw. Why am I inside a boy? passed through his jumbled mind. It was Stevie Rae’s sobs that finally got through to him. He was able to focus on her and when he did, Rephaim realized she was crying and laughing at the same time.

“What has happened?” he asked, still not fully understanding.

Stevie Rae didn’t seem to be able to speak because she just kept crying what looked like happy tears.

A hand came into his line of vision and he looked up to see the fledgling High Priestess, Zoey Redbird, smiling wryly at him. Rephaim took her offered hand and stood a little shakily.

“What’s happened is our Goddess has zapped you into being a guy,” Zoey said.

The truth hit him then and it almost drove him to his knees again. “I’m human. Completely human.” Rephaim stared down at the strong, tall body of a young Cherokee warrior.

“Yeah, you are, but only during the nighttime,” Zoey was saying. “During the day you’re gonna be completely a raven.”

Rephaim barely heard her. He was already turning to Stevie Rae.

He must have been knocked away from her when Nyx changed him, because she was no longer by his side. She took one small, hesitant step toward him and then stopped, looking unsure and wiping her face.

“Is it—is it bad? Do I look wrong?” he blurted.

“No,” she said, staring into his eyes. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect. You’re the boy we saw in the fountain.”

“Will you … can I…” His voice trailed off. Rephaim was too filled with emotion to find the right words, so he moved instead, closing the space between Stevie Rae and him in two long, strong, totally human strides. With no hesitation he took her in his arms, and then he did what he had barely even allowed himself to do in his dreams. Rephaim bent and kissed Stevie Rae’s soft lips with his own. He tasted her tears and her laughter, and finally he knew what it was to be truly, completely happy.

So it was reluctantly that he pulled back and told her, “Wait. There’s something I have to do.”

Dragon Lankford was easy to find. Though everyone was staring at him and Stevie Rae, Rephaim felt the Sword Master’s gaze distinctly. He approached Dragon slowly, making no sudden movements. Even so, the Warriors that stood to either side of him shifted, obviously ready to fight by their Sword Master’s side once more.

Rephaim stopped in front of Dragon. He met his gaze and saw the pain and anger there. Rephaim nodded in acknowledgment. “I have caused you great loss. I make no excuses for what I was. I can only tell you that I was wrong. I do not ask you to forgive me as the Goddess has.” Rephaim paused and sank to one knee. “What I ask is that you allow me to repay the life debt I owe you by serving you. If you accept me, for as long as I breathe I will, with my actions and my honor, attempt to atone for the loss of your mate.”

Dragon said nothing. He only stared at Rephaim as warring emotions passed over his face: hatred, despair, anger, and sadness. Until finally they coalesced into a mask of cold determination.

“Get off your knees, creature.” Dragon’s voice was emotionless. “I cannot accept your oath. I cannot bear to look at you. I will not allow you to serve me.”

“Dragon, think about what you’re saying,” Zoey Redbird spoke up, walking quickly to Rephaim’s side with Stark close by her. “I know it’s hard—I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, but you have to make a choice about how you go on from there, and it feels like you’re choosing Darkness instead of Light.”

Dragon’s eyes were cruel, his voice cold, as he answered the young High Priestess. “You say you know what it’s like to lose a love? How long did you love that human boy? Less than a decade! Anastasia was my mate for more than a century.”

Rephaim saw Zoey flinch, as if his words had physically hurt her, and Stark moved closer to her side, his gaze narrowed on the Sword Master.

“And that is why a child cannot lead a House of Night. Nor can she be a true High Priestess, no matter how indulgent our Goddess is,” Neferet said, moving silkily to Dragon’s side and touching his arm deferentially.

“Hang on there a sec, Hateful. I don’t remember Nyx actually saying she’d forgiven you. She talked about ifs and gifts, but correct me if I’m wrong, no hey there, Neferet, you’re forgivens,” Aphrodite said.

“You do not belong at this school!” Neferet yelled at her. “You are not a fledgling anymore!”

“No, she’s a Prophetess, remember?” Zoey said, sounding calm and wise. “Even the High Council has said so.”

Instead of answering Zoey, Neferet addressed the crowd of watching fledglings and vampyres. “Do you see how they twist the words of the Goddess, even just moments after she has appeared to us?”

Rephaim knew she was evil—knew she was no longer in the service of Nyx, but even he had to acknowledge how fierce and beautiful she looked. He also had to acknowledge the threads of Darkness that had reappeared and begun to slither to her again, filling her, feeding her need for power.

“No one’s twisting anything,” Zoey said. “Nyx forgave Rephaim and changed him into a kid. She also reminded Dragon he had a choice to make about his future. And she let you know forgiveness is a gift from her that has to be earned. That’s all I’m saying. That’s all any of us is saying.”

“Dragon Lankford, as Sword Master and Leader of this House of Night’s Sons of Erebus, do you accept this—” Neferet paused, glancing at Rephaim with loathing. “—this aberration as one of your own?”

“No,” Dragon said. “No, I cannot accept him.”

“Then I cannot accept him, either. Rephaim, you will not be allowed to remain at this House of Night. Begone, foul creature, and atone for your past elsewhere.”

Rephaim didn’t move. He waited for Neferet to look at him. And then quietly, distinctly, he said, “I see you for what you are.”

“Begone!” she shrieked.

He stood and started to back away from the Sword Master and his group of Warriors, but Stevie Rae took his hand and stopped his retreat.

“Where you go, I go,” she said.

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to be kicked out of your home because of me.”

Looking a little shy, Stevie Rae touched his face. “Don’t you know that home is wherever you are?”

He covered her hand with his. Not trusting his voice, he nodded and smiled at her. Smiling—it was incredible how good it felt!

Stevie Rae pulled her hand gently from his. “I’m goin’ with him,” she spoke to the crowd. “I’m gonna start another House of Night in the tunnels under the depot. It’s not as nice there as it is here, but it’s a whole heck of a lot friendlier.”

“You cannot begin a House of Night without approval of the High Council,” Neferet snapped.

The watching crowd’s whispers of shock reminded Rephaim of summer wind sloughing through the grasses of the ancient prairie—the sound was endless and pointless, unless you were taking wing.

Zoey Redbird’s voice broke through the throng. “If you have a vampyre queen, and you agree to stay out of vampyre politics, the High Council will pretty much leave you alone.” She smiled at Stevie Rae. “Coincidentally enough, I have just been kinda sorta made a queen. How ’bout I come with you and Rephaim? I’ll take friendly over fancy any day.”

“I’ll come, too,” Damien said. He looked one last time on the smoldering pyre. “I choose to make a fresh start.”

“We’re coming,” Shaunee said.

“Ditto, Twin,” Erin echoed. “Our room was too small here, anyway.”

“But we’ll come back for our stuff,” Shaunee said.

“Oh, hells yes,” Erin agreed.

“Shit,” Aphrodite said. “I knew it when this night blew up. I just knew it. It sucks like Tulsa not having a Nordstrom, but I’m damn sure not staying here, either.”

While Aphrodite leaned against her Warrior and sighed dramatically, each of the red fledglings stepped forward. Leaving the crowd, they made their way to stand beside Rephaim and Stevie Rae, Zoey and Stark, and the rest of their circle—the rest of their friends.

“Does this mean I can’t be Poet Laureate of all the vampyres?” Kramisha asked as she joined them.

“No one but Nyx can take that away from you,” Zoey said.

“Good. She was just here and she didn’t fire me. So I guess I’m okay,” Kramisha said.

“You’re nothing if you leave! None of you are!” Neferet cried.

“Well, Neferet, it’s like this,” Zoey said. “Sometimes nothing and your friends equals a whole lot of something.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Neferet said.

“To you it wouldn’t,” Rephaim said, putting his arm around Stevie Rae’s shoulders.

“Let’s go home,” Stevie Rae said, sliding her arm around Rephaim’s totally, completely human waist.

“Sounds good to me,” Zoey said, taking Stark’s hand.

“Sounds like we got us a bunch of cleaning to do to me,” Kramisha muttered as they started to walk away.

“The Vampyre High Council will hear of this,” Neferet called after them.

Zoey paused long enough to yell back over her shoulder, “Yeah, well, we won’t be hard to reach. We have internet and everything. Plus, a bunch of us will be back because we’ll be taking classes. This is still our school, even if it isn’t our home.”

“Oh, great. It’s like we’re being bussed in from the fucking projects,” Aphrodite said.

“What are the projects?” Rephaim asked Stevie Rae.

She beamed a smile up at him and said, “It means we’re comin’ from a totally different place that some people don’t think is so great.”

“I’m hoping for urban renewal,” Aphrodite grumbled.

Rephaim knew his expression was a huge question mark when Stevie Rae laughed and hugged him. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time for me to explain this modern stuff. For now all you need to know is that we’re together and that Aphrodite usually isn’t very nice.”

Stevie Rae stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, and Rephaim let her taste and touch drown out the voices of his past and the haunting memory of the wind under his wings …

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Neferet

She held herself under the strictest of control and allowed Zoey and her pathetic group of friends to leave the House of Night even though she wanted so very much to loose Darkness on them and crush them into nothingness.

Instead, carefully, secretly, she inhaled, absorbing the threads of Darkness that scuttled about her, slithering deliciously from shadow to shadow. When she felt strong and confident and in control again, she addressed her minions, those who remained at her House of Night.

“Rejoice, fledglings and vampyres! Nyx’s appearance this night was a sign of her favor. The Goddess spoke of choice and gifts and life paths. Sadly, we see that Zoey Redbird and her friends have chosen to take a path that leads away from us and, therefore, away from Nyx. But we will stay through this test and persevere, praying to our merciful Goddess that those misguided fledglings choose to return to us.” Neferet could see doubt in some of her listeners’ eyes. With a barely discernable motion, she waved just her fingers, pointing the long, red tips of her sharpened nails toward the doubters—the naysayers. Darkness responded, targeting them, clinging to them, causing their minds to be muddled through the confusion of twinges of seemingly sourceless pain and doubt and fear. “Now let each of us retire to our cloistered chambers, each to light a candle the color of the element we feel closest to. I believe that Nyx will hear these elementally channeled prayers, and she will ease us through this time of suffering and strife.”

“Neferet, what of the fledgling’s body? Should we not continue to hold vigil?” Dragon Lankford asked.

She was careful to keep the disdain from her voice. “You are right to remind me, Sword Master. Those of you who honored Jack with purple spirit candles, throw them on the pyre as you leave. The Sons of Erebus Warriors will hold vigil over the poor fledgling’s body for the remainder of the night.” And in that way I will be rid of both the power of the spirit candles as the flames consume them, and the annoying presence of too many Warriors, Neferet thought.

“As you wish, Priestess,” Dragon said, bowing to her.

She barely spared him a glance. “Now I must seclude myself. I believe Nyx’s message to me was multilayered. Some of it she whispered to my heart, and she has given me pause. Now I must pray and meditate.”

“What Nyx said disturbed you?”

Neferet had already begun to hurry away from the prying eyes of the House of Night when Lenobia’s voice stopped her. I should have known she did not remain because she was snared by my trap, Neferet acknowledged silently to herself. She remains to turn the captor into the captive.

Neferet regarded the Horse Mistress. With one flick of her fingertip, she sent Darkness in her direction, and was then surprised as well as concerned to see Lenobia’s gaze darting around her as if she could actually see the seeking threads.

“Yes, what Nyx said did, indeed, disturb me,” Neferet spoke abruptly, pulling everyone’s attention from the Horse Mistress back to her. “I could tell that the Goddess is deeply worried about our House of Night. You heard her speak of a split in our world—and that has happened. She was warning me. I only wish I could have found the means to keep it from happening.”

“But she forgave Rephaim. Could we not have—”

“The Goddess did forgive the creature. But does that mean we must suffer him in our midst?” Gracefully, she swept her arm toward Dragon Lankford, who was standing miserably by the head of the fledgling’s pyre. “Our Son of Erebus made the right choice. Sadly, too many young fledglings were led astray by Zoey and Stevie Rae and their tainted words. As Nyx herself said this night, forgiveness is a gift that must be earned. Let us hope for Zoey’s sake she continues to have the Goddess’s good will, but after her actions here I am afraid for her.” While her people were gazing between her and the pitiful, guilty spectacle the Sword Master made, Neferet stroked the air, pulling from the shadows more and more threads of Darkness. Then, with a flicking motion, she threw them out at the crowd, suppressing her smile of satisfaction when the groans and confused, pain-filled gasps reached her ears. “Depart—go to your rooms, pray and rest. This evening has been entirely too taxing for all of us. I leave you now, and as the Goddess said, I wish you to blessed be.”

Neferet swept from the center of the courtyard, whispering under her breath to the ancient force around her, “He will be there! He will be awaiting me!” She gathered her power so that she felt swollen, throbbing with the rhythm of Darkness, and then gave herself to it, letting it pick up her newly immortal body and carry her on the colorless wings of death and pain and despair.

But before she could reach the Mayo, and the opulent penthouse where she knew, she was certain Kalona would be awaiting her, Neferet felt a great shifting in the powers that carried her.

The cold reached her first. Neferet wasn’t certain if she commanded the powers to cease and allow her to halt, or whether the coldness froze them; either way, she found herself spewed out onto the middle of the intersection of Peoria and 11th Street. The Tsi Sgili picked herself up and looked around her, trying to get her bearings. The graveyard to her left drew her attention, and not simply because it housed the rotting remains of humans, which amused her. She sensed something approaching from within it. With one movement Neferet snagged a retreating thread of Darkness, hooked into it, and forced it to lift her over the spiked iron fence that surrounded the graveyard.

Whatever it was, she could feel it coming toward her, calling to her, and Neferet ran, darting ghostlike between the aging gravestones and crumbling monuments that humans found so soothing. Until finally she came to the centermost part of it, where four wide, paved pathways converged to form a circle where an American flag hung, the single illumination in the graveyard—except for him.

Of course Neferet recognized him. She’d caught glimpses of the white bull before, but he’d never fully materialized and appeared to her.

Neferet was stuck speechless at his perfection. His coat was a luminous white. Like a magnificent pearl it glowed—coaxing, alluring, compelling. She swept off the concealing shirt the pubescent Stark had given her, baring herself to the bull’s consuming black gaze. Then Neferet sank gracefully to her knees.

You bared yourself to Nyx. Now you bare yourself to me? Are you that free with yourself, Queen of the Tsi Sgili?

His voice resonated darkly in her mind, sending shivers of anticipation throughout her body.

“I didn’t bare myself to her. You, above all else, know that. The Goddess and I have parted ways. I am no longer mortal, and do not desire to subjugate myself to any other female.”

The mammoth white bull strode forward, causing the ground to shake under his great cloven hooves. His nose did not quite touch her delicate skin, but he inhaled her scent and then his cold breath released, surrounding Neferet, caressing her most sensitive places, awakening her most secret desires.

So instead of subjugation to a goddess you choose to chase after a fallen immortal male?

Neferet’s gaze met the bull’s black, bottomless eyes. “Kalona is nothing to me. I was going to him to exact my revenge for the oath he broke. It is my right to do so.”

He broke no oath. It did not bind him. Kalona’s soul is no longer fully immortal—he has foolishly given a piece of it away.

“Truly? How very interesting…” Neferet’s body hummed with excitement at the news.

I see that you are still infatuated with the thought of using him.

Neferet lifted her chin and shook back her long auburn hair. “I am not infatuated with Kalona. I only wish to harness and use his powers.”

You are truly a magnificent, heartless creature. The bull’s tongue snaked out. He licked Neferet’s naked flesh, causing her to gasp in exquisite pain as her body trembled with excitement. It has been more than a century since I have had such a willing follower. The idea seems suddenly appealing.

Neferet stayed on her knees before him. Slowly, gently, she reached out and touched him. His coat was frigid as ice, but slick like water.

Neferet felt his body shiver in anticipation. Ah, his voice resonated through her mind, and entered her soul, making her head dizzy with the power of it. I’d forgotten how surprising touch can be when it is not forced. It is not often that I am surprised, and I find myself wanting to show you such a favor in return.

“I would willingly accept any favor Darkness would do for me.”

The bull’s knowing chuckle rumbled through her mind. Yes, I do believe I would like to gift you with something.

“A gift?” she said breathlessly, loving the irony that Darkness Incarnate’s words so clearly mirrored those of Nyx. “What is it?”

Would it give you pleasure to know that I could create for you a Vessel, to take Kalona’s place? He would be yours to command—yours to use as an absolute weapon.

“Would he be powerful?” Neferet’s breathing had increased.

If the sacrifice is deserving, he would be very powerful.

“I would sacrifice anything or anyone to Darkness,” Neferet said. “Tell me what you desire for the creation of this creature, and I will give it to you.”

To create the Vessel, I must have the lifeblood of a woman who has ancient ties to the earth, passed to her through generation upon generation of matriarchs. The stronger, purer, older the woman, the more perfect the Vessel.

“Human or vampyre?” Neferet asked.

Human—they are more thoroughly tied to the earth, as their bodies return to the earth so much more quickly than do vampyres’.

Neferet smiled. “I know exactly who would be the perfect sacrifice. If you take me to her tonight, I will give her blood to you.”

The bull’s black eyes glinted with what Neferet thought might be amusement. Then he bent his huge forelegs, making his back accessible to her. I am intrigued by your offer, my heartless one. Show me the sacrifice.

“You wish for me to ride you?”

With no hesitation, Neferet rose and walked around to the side of his smooth, slick back. Though he was on his knees, she was still going to have to struggle to mount him. Then she felt the familiar thrill of the power of Darkness. Weightlessly, it lifted her so that she was astride his massive back.

Picture in your mind the place you wish for me to take you—the place where your sacrifice can be found—and I will take you there.

Neferet lay forward, wrapping her arms around his huge neck, and she began picturing lavender fields and a lovely little cottage made of Oklahoma stone with a welcoming wooden porch and large, revealing windows …

Linda Heffer

Linda hated to admit it, but all these years her mother had been right. “John Heffer is a su-li.” She said aloud the Cherokee word for “buzzard,” which is what her mother had called John the first night they’d met. “Well, he’s also a lying, cheating jerk—but a jerk with zero dollars in his savings and checking account,” she said smugly. “Because I drained them today, right after I caught him with the church secretary bent over his office desk!”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel of their Intrepid and she flicked on her brights as she replayed the terrible scene over in her mind. She’d thought it would be a nice surprise to make him a special lunch and bring it to him at his office. John had been working so many late hours—putting in so much overtime. But even after all those hours at work he still kept up so much volunteer time at church … Linda pressed her lips together.

Well, now she knew what he’d really been doing! Or rather, who he’d really been doing!

She should have known. All the signs were there—he’d stopped paying attention to her, stopped coming home, lost ten pounds, and even bleached his teeth!

He’d try to talk her back. She knew he would. He’d even tried to get her from running out of his office, but it’d been pretty darn hard to chase her with his pants around his ankles.

“The worst part is that he won’t want me back because he loves me. He’ll want me back so he doesn’t look bad.” Linda bit her lip and blinked hard, refusing to cry. “No,” she admitted aloud to herself. “The worst part is that John never loved me. He just wanted to look like the perfect family man, so he needed me. Our family was never anything close to perfect—anything close to happy.” My mother had been right. Zoey had been right, too.

Thinking of Zoey was what finally tipped the tears over to spill down her cheeks. Linda missed Zoey. Of her three children, she’d been closest to Zoey. She smiled through her tears, remembering how she and Zoey used to have geekends where they’d curl up on the couch together, eat lots of junk food, and watch either the Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter movies, or even sometimes Star Wars. How long had it been since they’d done that? Years. Would they ever again? Linda hiccupped a little sob. Could they now that Zoey was at the House of Night?

Would Zoey even want to see her again?

She’d never forgive herself if she’d let John irreparably mess up her relationship with Zoey.

That was one reason she’d gotten in the car, in the middle of the night, and headed to her mother’s house. Linda wanted to talk to her mother about Zoey—about mending her relationship with Zoey.

Linda also wanted to lean on her mother’s strength. She wanted help to stand firm and not let John talk her into a reconciliation.

But mostly, Linda just wanted her mother.

It didn’t matter that she was a grown woman with children of her own. She still needed her mother’s arms to hold her, and her mother’s voice to reassure her that everything really would be all right—that she’d made the right decision.

Linda was so deep in thought that she almost missed the turnoff to her mother’s house. She braked hard and just made the right turn. Then she slowed the car so that it wouldn’t spin out on the dirt road that led between lavender fields to her mother’s house. It’d been more than a year since she’d been here, but it hadn’t changed—and Linda was thankful for that. It made her feel safe and normal again.

Her mother’s porch light was on, and so was one lamp light inside. Linda smiled as she parked and got out of the car. It was probably that 1920s brass mermaid lamp her mother liked to read by late at night—only it wouldn’t be late to Sylvia Redbird. Four in the morning would be early for her, and just about getting up time.

Linda was just going to tap on the windowpane of the door before opening it when she saw the note written on lavender-scented paper and taped on the door. Her mother’s distinctive handwriting said:

Linda darling, I felt you might be coming, but I couldn’t be sure when you would actually arrive, so I went ahead and took some soaps and sachets and things to the powwow in Tahlequah. I’ll be back tomorrow. As always, please make yourself at home. I hope you’re here when I return. I love you.