Echo (The Soul Seekers 2)

A dream where his brother raided our paradise—stealing Dace’s soul along with his life, while all I could do was look on.

“What is it?” Sensing a shift in my mood, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. But I just shake my head and pull him back to me, seeing no reason to share. No reason to wreck the moment by mentioning Cade.

His breath quickens as his lips meet mine once again. And when he lifts me onto his lap, I have the vague sensation of something slimy and foreign passing over my foot.

I lean into the kiss, determined to ignore it, whatever it was. It’s a hot spring—an enchanted hot spring, but still a hot spring. It’s probably just a leaf or even a fallen flower bud from the canopy of vines that swoop overhead.

I focus on the feel of his lips molding hard to my flesh as I squirm tightly against him. Entwining my legs with his when another slimy object skims past my hip before surfacing beside me with an audible plop that’s soon followed by another.

And another.

Until the chorus of objects popping to the surface forces us apart. Forces us to blink free of the fog of each other, only to gape in horror as the spring fills with swollen, lifeless, gaping-mouthed fish—their vacant eye sockets staring accusingly.

Before I can so much as scream, Dace swoops me into his arms and hauls me out of the spring. Clasping me tightly to his chest as the two of us stare, breathless and horrified, at a truth that cannot be denied.

The enemy is still out there—alive and well and corrupting the Lowerworld.

And if we don’t find them soon, they’ll corrupt the Otherworlds too.

two

“Did you tell her?” Dace gestures toward Paloma’s blue gate as I slip inside his old beater truck and settle beside him.

“Not yet.” I gnaw the inside of my cheek and steer my gaze from his. Hearing his softly muttered hmmm as he pulls away from the curb. Recognizing it as Dace-speak for: I’m not sure I agree with your methods, but I’m sure you have your reasons.

Dace doesn’t judge.

He’s so nice, kind, and accepting, he wouldn’t even consider it.

He’s the literal definition of good.

The result of a split soul—his is the pure half—the opposite of his twin’s. While mine is of the more usual variety—straddling the varying shades of light and dark, swaying toward one or the other depending on the circumstance.

“I was going to,” I say, my voice pitching too high to convince, but it’s not like it stops me. “But by the time you dropped me off, she was with a client—she’s starting to see them again—and by the time she was finished, I was already asleep.”

“And this morning?” He looks at me, lips quirking at the side, knowing Paloma’s an outspoken advocate for proper nutrition. Starting each day with a healthy breakfast is pretty much the heart and soul of her manifesto. The only way I could’ve avoided the subject—avoided her—is by skipping it entirely. Which I did, by staying in my room until the very last minute, then making a mad dash for the door the instant I sensed Dace drive up. Pausing just long enough for her to press one of her freshly baked, organic, blue-corn muffins into my hand as I made for his truck.

There’s n

o graceful way out. I’m guilty as charged. “I got a late start.” Sneaking another peek at him, I add, “But, honestly, I guess I just wasn’t ready.”

He nods, grips the wheel tighter, navigating a series of deeply rutted dirt roads as I stare out the window. Noting how the old adobe homes lining the perimeter no longer sag like they used to. How the cars parked in the yards seem a little less rusted—and the chickens that roam those yards appear a little less emaciated. All of it thanks to Dace and my small triumph in the Lowerworld, when we convinced the Bone Keeper to release all those poor souls the Richters had stolen.

Yet despite our success, the town still doesn’t come close to living up to its name of Enchantment. Though it is a little less dismal than it was when I first arrived, and I consider that progress.

“If you want, we can tell her together.” Dace looks at me. “I’m scheduled to work after school, but I’m willing to go in late if it’ll help.”

I shake my head, too choked up by his offer to speak. Dace relies on every penny he earns working at the Rabbit Hole. After paying rent on the tiny apartment he keeps in town, gas and insurance for his two beat-up cars, and the small amount he sends to help Chepi, there’s not much left over. There’s no way I’ll let him take a hit in pay for something I should’ve done on my own.

“I’ll handle it,” I say. “Really. Today. After school. Before I head back to the Lowerworld, I’ll tell her. Though I’ve a pretty good feeling she already knows. Paloma knows everything. It’s more than an abuela’s sixth sense—she’s beyond perceptive. I’m sure my silence speaks louder than any words could.”

“Still,” he says. “Those fish…” His voice fades, as his gaze grows cloudy and troubled, his lips pale and grim. “I think I should mention it to Leftfoot. Chepi too. Maybe they can help?”

At the mention of his mother, it’s my turn to go grim. Having spent Dace’s entire childhood shielding him from the more mystical side of life—only to watch me come to town and drag him headfirst into all the trouble and weirdness this place has to offer, she’s not exactly my biggest fan.

Yet, according to Paloma, it was our destiny to meet, just as it’s our destiny to work together to keep the Richters contained, and the Lower-, Middle-, and Upperworlds balanced. And once in motion, destiny cannot be stopped.

I’m just about to ask if he might reconsider telling Chepi, when he turns into the school parking lot and brakes beside Auden’s ancient wood-paneled station wagon. Lowering the window enough to allow a gust of cold air to rush in, we watch Auden guide Xotichl out of the passenger seat and lead her toward us, her red-tipped cane weaving before her.