Текст книги "Destined"

Автор книги: P. C. Cast

Соавторы: Kristin Cast,P. C. Cast
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“Here, I’ll give you a leg up.”

“No need,” she said. Lenobia turned her back to him and clucked to the mare, encouraging her to walk forward along the back side of the bench. Moving with a lithe grace that came from centuries of practice, Lenobia stepped from the ground to the seat of the bench, and then the iron backrest, easily finding the stirrup and swinging up, up, and into Bonnie’s saddle. She noticed immediately that he’d shortened the stirrups of his wide Western saddle to accommodate her much shorter legs, so even though the seat was too big, it felt comfortable rather than awkward. She looked down at Travis and had to smile because he seemed so very, very far below her.

His grin answered hers. “I know.”

“It’s different from up here,” she said.

“Yep, sure is. Take my girl out. She’ll remind you to breathe and smile. Oh, and Lenobia, I’d ’preciate it if you’d stop callin’ me Mr. Foster.” He tipped his hat to her, added a smile and a long, slow, “If you please, ma’am.”

Lenobia only raised an eyebrow at him. She gave Bonnie a squeeze with her knees and made the same kiss noise she’d heard Travis making. The mare responded with no hesitation. They moved off smoothly. The wind had continued to pick up and with the warmth this evening Lenobia was reminded of spring. She smiled. “Maybe this long, cold winter is over, Bonnie girl. Maybe spring is coming.”

Bonnie’s ears flicked back, listening, and Lenobia patted her wide neck. She pointed the mare north and rode along the stone wall past the broken tree that had been the site of so much pain, past the stables and arena. They rode, alternatively walking and trotting, all the way to the place where east joined north, in the corner of the rectangle that encompassed the campus grounds. By the time they’d reached the corner, Lenobia felt she had Bonnie’s rhythm and her trust. She turned the mare so that she was pointed back in the direction from which they’d come.

“All right, my Bonnie big girl, let’s see what you’re made of.” Lenobia leaned forward, squeezed her knees, kicked with her heels, and made a loud kiss noise while she flipped the ends of the reins on the big mare’s butt.

Bonnie took off like she thought she was a quarter horse out of the roping shoots.

“Ha!” Lenobia shouted. “That’s it! Let’s go!”

Bonnie’s huge hooves drove into the ground. Lenobia could feel the mare’s powerful heartbeat. The warm night air whipped her hair back and the Horse Mistress leaned even farther forward, encouraging Bonnie to let loose—to give her everything.

The mare responded with a burst of speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a creature who weighed two thousand pounds.

As the wind whistled around them, lifting Lenobia’s long silver hair in time with the Percheron’s mane in that magickal dance that melded horse to rider, Lenobia thought of the ancient Persian saying: The breath of heaven is found between a horse’s ears.

“That’s right! That’s exactly right!” Lenobia yelled, and clung to the speeding mare’s back.

Joyously, freely, wonderfully, Lenobia moved as one with Bonnie. She didn’t realize she’d been laughing aloud until she pulled the mare in and circled her, finally coming to a halt, blowing and sweating, beside Travis and their bench.

“She’s magnificent!” Lenobia laughed again, and leaned forward to hug Bonnie’s damp neck.

“Yeah, I told ya it’d be better after that,” Travis called to her, catching Bonnie’s bridle and echoing Lenobia’s laughter.

“What couldn’t be? That’s so much fun!”

“Like riding a mountain?”

“Exactly like riding a beautiful, smart, wonderful mountain!” Lenobia hugged Bonnie again. “You know what? You really do deserve all those cookies,” she told the mare.

Travis just laughed.

Lenobia kicked her leg over the saddle to slide off Bonnie, but the ground was much farther away than she’d anticipated. She staggered and would have fallen had Travis not caught her elbow in his strong grip.

“Steady there … steady girl,” he murmured, sounding like he was speaking to a spooked filly. “Ground’s a long ways down. Take ’er easy or you’ll have a nasty fall.”

Still feeling the sweet adrenaline rush from her run with the mare, Lenobia laughed. “I don’t care! The ride would be worth the fall. The ride would be worth anything!”

“Some girls are,” Travis said.

Lenobia looked up at the tall cowboy. His eyes had lightened so that they weren’t just hazel anymore. They were flecked with an olive green that was distinctive and light and unmistakably familiar.

Lenobia didn’t think. Instinct drove her. She stepped into his embrace. It seemed Travis had stopped thinking, too, because he’d dropped Bonnie’s reins and pulled Lenobia into his arms. Their lips met with a kind of desperation that was part passion, part question.

She could have stopped herself, but she didn’t. She allowed it. No, more than that. Lenobia met Travis’s passion with her own, and answered his question with desire and need.

The kiss went on long enough for Lenobia to recognize the taste and feel of him, and for her to admit to herself that she’d missed him—missed him desperately.

And then she began thinking again.

She only had to pull just a little and he let her slip from the warm circle of his arms.

Lenobia could feel her head shaking back and forth and her heart racing.

“No,” she said, trying to get her breathing under control. “This can’t be. I can’t do this.”

His beautiful, olive-flecked eyes looked dazed. “Lenobia, girl. Let’s talk this out. There’s somethin’ here that we can’t ignore. It’s like we—”

“No!” Lenobia called the steely control that she’d commanded for centuries to her, cloaking her desire and need and fear in anger and coldness. “Do not presume. Humans are attracted to our kind. What you felt was what any man would feel if I deigned to kiss him.” She forced herself to laugh, this time the sound was utterly devoid of joy. “Which is why I do not make a habit of kissing human men. It will not happen again.”

Without looking at Travis or Bonnie, Lenobia strode away. Her back was to them, so they couldn’t see that she pressed her hand against her mouth to keep the sob from escaping. She opened the side door to the stables so hard that it slammed against the stone building. She didn’t pause. She went straight to her room that rested over her horses, closed and locked the door behind her.

Then, and only then, Lenobia allowed herself to weep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Neferet

Things were going very well.

The red fledglings were causing problems.

Dallas hated Rephaim with an intensity that was simply lovely.

Gaea was all in a tizzy about the lawn humans. So much so that she’d forgotten to lock the side maintenance gate and one of the street people who usually frequented Cherry Street had somehow been compelled to stagger down Utica Street and through the unlocked gate and onto campus.

“And he’d promptly almost been carved in two by Dragon, who is seeing Raven Mockers in every shade and shadow,” Neferet practically purred.

She tapped her chin contemplatively. She hated that Thanatos had invaded her House of Night. But the positive side of the High Council’s interfering ways was that forcing all of those special students into one classroom was acting like dry twigs on coals.

“Chaos!” Neferet laughed. “It is going to cause something to ignite.”

The Darkness that was her constant companion slithered closer, wrapping itself caressingly around her legs.

During the passing period the hour before, she’d overheard two of Zoey’s ridiculous friends talking. It seemed the Twins, Shaunee and Erin, were having a falling-out that was affecting the entire herd.

Neferet snorted sarcastically. “Of course it would. None of them are truly strong enough to stand on their own. They huddle together like the sheep they are, trying to stay safe from the wolf.” She would enjoy seeing how that little drama played itself out. “Perhaps I should befriend Erin in her time of need…” she mused aloud.

Neferet smiled and opened the heavy velvet drapes that usually covered the large mullioned window of her private quarters from the prying eyes of the school. She opened the window, inhaling deeply of the brisk, warm breeze. Neferet closed her eyes and opened her senses. She scented the wind for more than the familiar smells of incense from the temple and the newly cut winter grass. Neferet opened her mind to taste the aromas of emotion that roiled and lifted from the House of Night and its inhabitants.

She was intuitive in a literal and not so literal sense. At times she could, indeed, read actual thoughts. At times she could only taste emotions. If those emotions were strong enough, or the person’s mind weak enough, she could even glimpse mental images—pictures of the thoughts that lived within the mind.

It was easier when she was close to the person, physically and emotionally. But it wasn’t impossible to sift through the night and glean things, especially a night as filled with emotion as was this one.

Neferet concentrated.

Yes, she tasted sorrow. She sifted through it and recognized the banal emotion from Shaunee and Damien and even Dragon, though vampyres were always harder to read than fledglings or humans.

Neferet’s thoughts turned to humans. She tried to inhale Aphrodite—to touch even a slight bit of emotion from the girl, and she failed. Aphrodite had always been as unreadable to her as Zoey.

“No matter.” She damped her irritation. “There are other humans at play in my House tonight.”

Neferet thought of Rephaim—thought of the strong lines of his face that so clearly mimicked those of his father’s—thought of the infatuation that had led him to his human form …

Again, nothing.

She could not find Rephaim, though she knew he must be filled with readable emotions. So strange. Humans were usually such easy prey. Humans …

Neferet smiled as she focused her attention on a more-interesting human. The cowboy—the one she’d chosen so carefully for poor, dear, repressed Lenobia.

What was it the Horse Mistress had said when they’d first met and Lenobia had thought them friends? Ah, Neferet remembered. They’d been talking of human mates and how neither had a desire for one. Neferet hadn’t admitted that they curdled her stomach—that she could never allow a human to touch her without doing him violence—never again. Instead she’d simply listened as Lenobia confessed: I loved a human boy once. When I lost him, I almost lost myself. I can never let that happen again, so I prefer to stay away from humans altogether.

Neferet closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and dug her long, pointed fingernails into the palm of her left hand. As the blood welled and then dripped, she offered it to the searching shadows, thinking of the cowboy she’d planted in the soil of Lenobia’s manure-ridden arena.

Lend Dark power to me

So that his emotions I can see!

The pain in her palm was nothing compared to the onrush of icy power she received. Neferet controlled it and focused it at the stables. She was justly rewarded. She could feel the human cowboy’s warmth and compassion—his joy and desire. And then she laughed aloud because she could also feel his hurt and confusion, along with the backwash of what could only be Lenobia’s heartbreak.

“It’s so delicious! Everything is going according to my plans.”

Absently, Neferet brushed away the more aggressive of the threads of Darkness and licked the wounds on her palm, closing them. “That is all for now. Wait until later for more.” She laughed at their reluctance to quit feeding from her. She commanded them easily. They know my true allegiance, my true sacrifice, is only for him—the white bull. Just the thought of him—of his magnificent power—made Neferet shiver with longing. He was all a god or goddess should be; there is much I can learn from him.

Neferet decided it then. She would make an excuse to the much-too-curious Thanatos and leave the school before dawn. She had to be with the white bull—she needed to absorb more of his power.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the night, letting the thought of her Consort, Darkness himself, woo her. And for a moment Neferet believed she was almost happy.

Then she intruded. She always intruded.

“Seriously, Shaunee, you can’t stay here.”

Neferet’s lip lifted in a sneer as she opened her eyes and looked down through her window to the sidewalk below. Zoey had caught the black girl by her arm and was obviously trying to stop her from going out to the parking lot.

“Look, I gave it a try, but today was hell. Really hell. So I’m gonna go get the bag I packed from the depot and left on the short bus, and I’m gonna move into my old dorm room.”

“Please don’t,” Zoey said.

“I have to. Erin keeps hurting my feelings over and over.” Neferet thought the girl was very near tears. Her weakness disgusted the Tsi Sgili. “And anyway, why does it matter?”

“It matters ’cause you’re one of us!” Neferet hated the honest warmth in Zoey’s voice. “You can be pissed at Erin. You can even stop being BFFs, but you can’t let your whole life explode because of it.”

“It’s not me who’s exploding. It’s her,” Shaunee said.

“Then be a better person. Be your own person, and maybe by doing that you can show Erin how to be your friend again.”

“But not my Twin.” Shaunee spoke so softly Neferet almost couldn’t hear her. “I don’t want to be anyone’s Twin again. I just want to be myself.”

Zoey smiled. “That’s all you need to be. Go to sixth hour, and I promise I’ll talk to Erin. You’re both still part of our circle, and that has to count for something.”

Shaunee nodded slowly. “’Kay. But only if you talk to her.”

“I will.”

Neferet sneered again as Zoey hugged the black girl who started to retrace her path toward the main school building. She expected Zoey to walk with her, but she didn’t. Instead the girl’s shoulders slumped and she rubbed her forehead as if it ached. If the little bitch stayed out of the business of her betters, she wouldn’t have any worries, Neferet thought as she watched Zoey leave the sidewalk and kick rather noisily at a tin can that the yard maintenance humans had, no doubt, left behind them. Knowing what their discarded rubbish would do to the fastidious Gaea made Neferet smile.

Zoey’s can rolled to a stop against an exposed root of one of the ancient oaks that dotted the school grounds. The winter bare branches waved in another strong gust of warm wind, almost obscuring Zoey from her view—almost as if they were reaching around to protect her as the child bent to pick up the can.

Protect her …

Neferet’s eyes widened. What if Zoey did need protecting? The trees certainly wouldn’t do it—not without the annoying child calling on earth. And Zoey wouldn’t know she needed to call the element if a sudden gust of wind—a sudden accident—caused a limb to break and fall on her.

Zoey wouldn’t know what was happening until it was too late.

Without flinching, Neferet stuck her fingernail into the pink slashes that had not yet healed. She held her hand up, cupping the blood, and saying:

“Drink and obey

The limb must do more than sway

Rip it—break it—to the earth it should hurl

Crush her—hurt her—kill the Zoey girl.”

Neferet braced herself for the pain that feeding Darkness brought with it, and was surprised when she felt nothing. She glanced from the tree to her palm. The sticky tendrils of Darkness quivered and writhed around her, but they did not feed.

What you ask tempts Fate

For that the sacrifice must be great.

The singsong words drifted through Neferet’s mind, and she recognized the echo of her power Consort in them.

“What is it you need from me?

What sacrifice must it be?”

The answer rumbled in Neferet’s mind.

Her life force does demand

the sacrifice be equal to your command.

Irritation filled Neferet. Zoey always caused her problems! With a mighty effort, Neferet tempered her tone so that her words would not offend her Consort.

“I change my request

not killing her would be best.

Frighten her—bruise her

but leave her lifeline unbroken and pure.”

With painful abandon, the threads of Darkness descended upon the blood pooled in Neferet’s hand. She did not flinch. She did not cry out. Neferet smiled and pointed at the tree.

“My blood from me to thee

by command—so mote it be!”

Darkness spewed from Neferet’s window. Mimicking the wind, it whirled around the mighty oak’s branches. Utterly captivated, Neferet watched. Zoey had picked up the can and was walking slowly away from the tree and toward the sidewalk.

But the old oak was huge and the girl was still under its canopy.

Like a whip, the tendrils of Darkness wrapped around the lowest hanging tree limb. There was a terrible, wonderful crack! The limb broke and hurtled down as Zoey was staring up in wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock.

In spite of what her Consort had said, for an exquisite moment Neferet believed Zoey would, indeed, be killed.

And then, quite unexpectedly, a silver blur intruded on the scene. Zoey was knocked out of the way and the massive branch crashed harmlessly to the ground. As Neferet stared disbelievingly, Aurox and Zoey began to slowly unwind themselves from the tangled ball they’d become when he’d saved her from the accident.

With a sound of absolute disgust Neferet turned away from the window and closed the heavy drapes. “Tell my Consort that I said he could have allowed her to get a little more bruised than that.” She spoke to the writhing black threads that were her constant companions, knowing they would carry if not her actual words, then their intent, to the white bull. “I think my blood was worth more than a tumble, though I can see that it was wise of him to have Aurox come to her rescue. It will make the creature appear even more heroic to silly young fledglings.” Neferet’s emerald eyes widened as understanding dawned. “What a delicious complication if one of the silly young fledglings who see the vessel as heroic is Zoey Redbird herself!” Darkness lapped against her legs as she left her chamber and, smiling slyly, went to find Thanatos.

Zoey

So, I’d just done a good thing—two good things actually. I’d talked Shaunee out of leaving the depot, and I’d picked up litter. I was holding the pop can thinking about how much I’d like a nice cold drink of brown pop when the wind, which had been acting crazy all night, blew a giant gust and crack! The gihugic branch directly above me broke off the tree. I didn’t have time to do anything but gawk in silent, frozen horror—and then he hit me from the side, low and hard, like I’d seen players do a zillion times on the football field. All the air was knocked out of me and I felt like I was smothering under a ton or so of guy.

“Get off!” I gasped, trying to push his leg from around me. I flailed enough that, with a grunt, he unwrapped from on top of me. As his weight lifted I could actually suck in a breath of air. I kinda elbowed my way to a half sitting position. My mind was working slowly. At the edge of my vision I saw the big limb, still quivering from its impact with the ground. That could’ve killed me, I realized and looked up at whoever it was that I needed to send a serious thank-you to.

Moonstone eyes were staring at me. He put his hands up the instant our gazes met and took a small step backward, as if he expected me to launch an attack at him.

Warmth radiated from the seer stone that hung between my breasts. It filled my body with heat, intensified as if by the touch of Aurox’s skin. It had to be my imagination, but it seemed that the stone’s heat lingered everywhere in my body even after his touch was gone.

“I was patrolling.”

“Yeah,” I said, and looked away from him, making myself oh-so-busy brushing grass and leaves from my shirt while I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts. “You do a lot of that.”

“I saw you under the tree.”

“Uh-huh.” I kept brushing off grass and whatnot while my mind blared: Aurox saved your life!

“I wasn’t going to come near you, but I heard the branch breaking. I didn’t believe I was going to make it in time.” His voice sounded shaky. I looked up at him then. He seemed super awkward. As I stared at him, standing there, looking out of place and dorky, I suddenly realized that no matter what else he was, at that moment Aurox was simply a boy who was as unsure of himself as any other teenage boy.

Some of the anxiety, the terrible unease that I’d felt since the first moment I’d seen him, began to fade away.

“Well, I’m glad you did make it in time.” I kept my own voice calm—my emotions under control. The last thing I needed was Stark to come charging up. “And you can put your hands down. I’m not gonna bite you or anything like that.”

He lowered his hands and shoved them into his jeans pockets. “I did not mean to knock you down. I did not mean to hurt you,” he said.

“That limb would have done a lot worse. Plus, it was a good tackle. Heath would have approved.” I said the words and then clamped my mouth shut. Why in the hell was I talking about Heath to him?

Aurox just looked all-around confused.

I sighed. “What I mean is, thank you for saving me.”

He blinked. “You are welcome.”

I started to get up and he held out a hand to help me. I looked at it. It was a perfectly normal hand. It had no hoof-ness about it. I slid my hand in his. Our palms pressed together and I knew I hadn’t imagined it. His touch did radiate the same heat as the seer stone.

As soon as I was on my feet I pulled my hand from his.

“Thanks,” I said. “Again.”

“You are welcome.” He paused and almost smiled. “Again.”

“I better get back to sixth hour.” I broke the silence that had begun to settle between us. “I have a mare to finish grooming.”

“I must continue to patrol,” he said.

“So, the only class you have to go to is first hour?”

“Yes, as Neferet commands,” he said.

I thought he sounded strange. Not exactly sad, but kinda resigned and still a little awkward.

“Okay, well. I’ll see you first hour tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. He nodded. We turned from each other and started to walk our separate ways, but something about first hour tugged at my mind and wouldn’t leave me alone. I stopped and called to him. “Aurox, hang on.” Looking curious, he came back to meet me beside the broken limb. “Uh, that question you wrote down today, was it for real?”

“For real?”

“Yeah, like, do you really not know what you are?” I asked.

He hesitated what felt like a long time before answering me. I could see that he was thinking and maybe weighing what he should and shouldn’t tell me. I was getting ready to say something clichéd (and untrue) like, “don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone” when he finally spoke.

“I know what I am supposed to be. I do not know if that is all that I truly am.”

Our eyes met and this time I did clearly see sadness there. “I hope Thanatos helps you find your answers.”

“As do I,” he said. Then he surprised me by adding, “You do not have a mean spirit, Zoey.”

“Well, I’m not the nicest girl in the world, but I try not to be mean,” I said.

He nodded, like what I’d said made sense to him.

“Okay, well, I’m really going now. Good luck with the rest of your patrol.”

“Have a care when you walk under trees,” he said, then he jogged away.

I looked up at the tree. The wind had gone from wild and crazy to gentle and barely noticeable. The old oak appeared strong and steady and totally unbreakable. As I walked back to sixth hour I thought about how deceiving appearances could be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Zoey

I’d meant to go to back to class. Straight to sixth hour. Really. Contrary to my recent actions, I’m usually not a class cutter. I mean, it just never made much sense. Like the homework wouldn’t be there when I got back to class the next day? Uh, it would, plus the lovely added bonus of being in trouble.

Let me just say ugh to in-house and all other weird ineffective high school punishment systems that stick good kids in a study hall with frequent offender/gang members. Like that’s not gonna just cause more problems?

Anyway, I’d made it about halfway to the stables when Thanatos seemed to materialize from the shadows beside the sidewalk, making me jump and put my hand over my heart to be sure it didn’t pound from my chest.

“I did not mean to startle you,” she said.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a spooky kind of a day,” I said, and then remembering how the wind had swirled around her when she’d gotten pissed at Dallas, I added, “Hey, do you have an air affinity?” She lifted a brow at me, and I also remembered how super scary and powerful she was and said, “Unless it’s none of my business. I don’t mean to sound rude or anything.”

“It is not rude to ask, and my closeness with air is no secret. It is not a true affinity. I cannot call the element, though it often manifests when I have need of it. I have long thought that air stays close to me because of my true affinity.”

“Death?” Now I was really curious. “I’d think spirit would stay close to you because of your affinity.”

“That does seem logical, but my affinity has only to do with helping the dead pass on, and sometimes soothing the living who have been left behind.” We walked slowly, falling into an easy rhythm beside one another as we talked. “The dead move like the wind, or at least they do as they manifest to me. They are ethereal, diaphanous. They appear to have no real substance, though they are, indeed, very real.”

“Like wind,” I said, understanding. “It’s real. It can move things. But you can’t see it.”

“Exactly. Why do you ask about air?”

“Well, it’s been acting kinda crazy today. I wondered if you felt anything weird going on with it.”

“As in it being manipulated?”

“Yeah, definitely,” I said.

“No, I could not say that I have felt air being manipulated.” She glanced up at the branches of the closest tree where the wind, gently, lazily, had them swaying in time to a slow, silent tune. “Seems all is quiet now.”

“Yeah, it does.” And I wondered if maybe it wasn’t the element air that was responsible for the branch almost smooshing me. Don’t be so darn paranoid, I reminded myself firmly. Then Thanatos’s next words wiped all thoughts of weird wind and paranoia from my mind.

“Zoey, I must ask you two things: first a question, and then your forgiveness.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” But I’m gonna be careful about how I answer you, I added to myself silently. “And I don’t know why you’d need my forgiveness.”

“The question first, then I shall explain. I would like to ask that you join me in a class discussion tomorrow.” She held up her hand to stop me as I opened my mouth to answer her with an “okay, whatever.” “You should know the discussion will be about recovering from the death of a parent.”

All of a sudden my throat felt really dry. I swallowed and then said, “That’s gonna be hard for me to talk about ’cause I haven’t gotten over my mom’s death.”

Thanatos nodded and then, not unkindly, said, “Yes, I realize that. But there are several other students who have also not recovered from losing a parent, though yours is the only loss, thus far, due to death.”

“Huh?”

“Three other students asked the same question as did you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You must know it is a universal experience for those of us who complete the Change. We are not immortal, but we will outlive our human parents. Many of us choose to sever ties with the mortals from our childhood early in our vampyre lives. That seems to make the eventual loss less painful. Some of us maintain relationships with the people from our past—for some of us that makes the loss less painful.”

“But it’s not like either of those things for me. I’m not a vampyre, and my mom was killed—she didn’t just die of old age.”

“Were you very close to your mother?”

I blinked hard, not wanting to cry. “No. Not for the past three years.”

“So, is your biggest struggle the manner of her death?”

I thought carefully about her question before I answered Thanatos. “I think that is part of it. I think knowing exactly what happened to her would help me have closure. But there’s also the fact that now that she’s gone, there’s no chance she and I will be close again.”

“But that chance is only over for you and her in this lifetime. If she waits in the Otherworld you could reunite there,” Thanatos said. “Did she know the Goddess?”

I smiled, this time through my tears. “Mom didn’t know Nyx, but Nyx knew my mom. The Goddess sent me a dream the night she died. I saw Mom being welcomed to the Otherworld.”

“Well, then, that sadness should be alleviated from your spirit. All that remains is the uncertainty surrounding her death.”

“Her murder,” I corrected her. “Mom was killed.”

There was a long silence and then she asked, “Exactly how was your mother killed?”

“The police say by druggies who were ripping off my grandma’s house. Mom was there and got in the way.” My voice sounded as hollow as I felt.

“No, I mean how was she killed? What were her wounds?”

I remembered Grandma saying that her murder had been vicious, but that Mom hadn’t suffered. I also remembered the shadow that had passed over Grandma’s expression when she’d told me about it. I swallowed hard again. “It was violent. That’s all Grandma told me.”

“Your grandmother saw her body?”

“Grandma found her.”

“Zoey, is there any way your grandmother would speak with me about your mother’s murder?”

“I’m sure she’d talk to you. Why? What good would that do?”

“I do not want you to become overly hopeful, but if a death is very violent the very fabric of the earth is sometimes imprinted and I can access those images of death.”

“You could see how Mom was killed?”

“Perhaps. Only perhaps. But I need to question your grandmother first to know if it might even be possible.”

“I can’t guarantee how much Grandma will say. Right now she’s observing the seven days of ritual cleansing after a death.” In response to Thanatos’s questioning look I explained. “Grandma’s a Cherokee Wise Woman. She keeps the ancient religion and its ways.”

“Then it is important that I speak with her immediately if there is any hope of resurrecting the images from your mother’s death. How many days have passed since her murder?”

“She was killed last Thursday night.”