Mystic (The Soul Seekers 3)

I narrow my gaze on the old medicine man. It’s a rare occasion when I don’t follow his advice.

This is one of those occasions.

“There’s no time—I have to use the energy while I have it!” I say, already moving away.

“Do you even know where to look?” he asks, his voice neither taunting nor superior, merely matter-of-fact.

My reply of silence is proof that I don’t.

“Better not to waste your energy by floundering around. Let me do some of the groundwork first, so you can go in when it counts. Come on, Dace.” He slips an arm around me, pats me on the back. “Come back to the reservation with us. You and Daire can head out at daybreak.”

Typical Leftfoot. Always trying to separate me from Daire. Making me wonder if he suspected all along that the love Daire and I share serves to strengthen my freak of a brother. Still, I look upon him with a deep-rooted fondness. He’s taught me everything I know—always been like a father to me.

“You all go ahead,” Chay says, taking Leftfoot’s side. “I’ll stay here. Paloma and I can do some work through the night while Daire gets some sleep.” He smiles at me with a face so benevolent, so sincere, there’s nothing I can say to refute it. “Few hours from now, you’ll be rested, refreshed, and heading in the right direction. What do you say?”

I turn my focus to Daire, as Chepi and Paloma murmur their approval. “Fine,” I say, knowing there’s no use prolonging the fight when it’s so much easier to give the appearance of going along. The elders are a formidable force, especially when they all band together. Still, sometimes I need to do things in my own time, my own way.

Before anyone can stop me, I move toward Daire and pull her into my arms. And the second her lips meet mine everything fades until all that’s left is this kiss.

Her touch is soft and lingering, both of us knowing the moment we break away, the gravity of the situation will descend once again.

One second—her lips move gently with mine.

Two—her breath becomes one with my own.

Three—there is nothing I wouldn’t do for this girl.

It’s the vow I take with me, as I reluctantly draw away and head for the door.

twenty-nine

Daire

Chay works in the garden out back, collecting fresh herbs and flowers from the long list Paloma gave him, while Paloma and I work on cleaning her office, moving around each other with practiced efficiency.

After a prolonged silence, she turns to me and says, “Nieta, what’s wrong? Dace is back, his wounds are healed, and yet, you seem rather blue.”

“Not blue.” I sigh, ashamed by my small, petty mood in the midst of all the good she just mentioned. “More like … lavender.” I return the bowl to the cupboard and face her.

“This is about Axel.” She wipes her hands on a towel and folds it back neatly. Paloma’s always been able to read me.

“He wasn’t supposed to save me,” I tell her. “Dace was meant to die, not me.”

“So he interfered with destiny?” Her voice is soft, but her gaze is needle sharp. “And you’re unsure of his motives?” She tips onto her toes, straining to put the last jar away. But I’m taller, so I’m quick to swoop in and place it there for her.

“Let’s just say that while I may have misinterpreted his motives from the start, now that he’s explained it, I’m left with even more misgivings than before. He claims he saved me to save Dace. But he did so at great personal risk, and I’m not sure what to do with that. It makes me feel like I’m weirdly indebted to him.”

“So you’d prefer he would’ve let you die?”

I shoot her a sideways glance. “I told you it was stupid.”

Paloma presses toward the sink and turns on the tap. Rinsing the cloth I used to cleanse Dace’s face and hands under a hot stream of water. “Nieta, what you need to understand is that Axel was created for this. He was created to guide. If he chose to do something that went against his creed, he did so knowingly and willingly.”

I study her carefully. Watching as she alternately rinses, twists, and crumples the cloth in her hands until the blood is mostly gone and the remaining water streams clear.

“What do you mean he was created for this?”

“Nieta, Axel was never human.” She inspects the cloth. Still stained with Dace’s blood, she moves to dispose of it.