Relic

by Renee Collins

  “Reach, Maggie,” he said. “You can do it. You are stronger than any other person I know.”

  My entire body was shaking. My throat was tight as a clenched fist. I hadn’t come this far to die. And Álvar was right, I was strong, stronger than I’d realized.

  Drawing in a sharp, determined breath, I stretched out and grasped Álvar’s hand. My body dropped down, but then I felt a strong grip on my wrist.

  “I’ve got you,” Álvar shouted.

  “Don’t let me fall!”

  I kicked and scraped my feet against the wall of the cliff, sending cascades of dirt and rocks plunging down. With the adrenaline of the moment, I found the strength to reach up with my other hand. Álvar grabbed it.

  “I’ve got you!” he cried in a strained voice.

  Before my blurred eyes could focus, my chest was passing over the top of the cliff. I kicked my feet off the rock, propelling myself even more. Ella ran up, shouting my name, and she flung her arms around Álvar and pulled. With a heave, the three of us tumbled forward to the dry, blessedly flat surface of the cliff top.

  Before I even processed what had happened, Ella had her arms around me, weeping. “Maggie, Maggie.”

  I held her to me and gasped huge, sobbing breaths of air. My arms couldn’t hold her tight enough. We wept and hugged.

  Álvar stood shakily beside me. He was breathing hard, but he didn’t look relieved. He stared at me, ashen. “You must believe me, Maggie,” he said, his voice strained. “That scholar is far more dangerous than I. He has the rest of that relic, and he will take its power. You think I should hang for what I have done; I know this. And perhaps I should. But my actions will be nothing compared to his.”

  “Who is he?”

  Álvar started to back away slowly. He looked more afraid than I’d ever seen him. “I will find you,” he said. “When the time is right. And you must help me.”

  Ella seemed to sense the darkness in his tone. She grabbed onto me tighter. “Maggie, make him go,” she whispered.

  I hugged her, shushing softly. But my eyes went back to Álvar. I knew I should detain him; I should keep him there on the cliff top until Sheriff Leander came. He was a guilty man who deserved punishment.

  And yet as Álvar backed away, I didn’t try to stop him. Somehow I couldn’t send him to the gallows—not when I’d felt the overpowering evil of the Ko Zhin for myself. Wasn’t Álvar just a desperate young man who had been in far over his head?

  As he turned to go, Álvar passed a final look back at me, and something unreadable burned in his eyes. It sent a strange shiver through me. He held my gaze for a few more moments, then disappeared into the smoke.

  I gazed at the space where he had gone, unsure of what to think. Pushing away the feeling, I kissed Ella on her soft hair.

  “It’s over, baby girl,” I whispered. “It’s all over now.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  In the cool forest of the Alkalies, the Apaches’ memorial for their dead lasted two days and nights. I attended but clung to the fringes. I might have Apache blood, but I still didn’t feel like I fully belonged. The keening and wailing from the tribal women rang into the clear mountain air, nearly drowning out the endless beating of the drums. Yahn’s mother spoke in the Apache tongue, praising the actions of the many brave warriors who’d fallen.

  I couldn’t help but think of Landon. In my heart, this was his funeral, too.

  The event left me drained, body and soul. I stayed up through the night, but as dawn started to crest, I could feel myself fading. I’d come mostly in the hopes of seeing Yahn, but the crowd was so dense that I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him.

  I walked my horse through the thick trees, breathing in the cool smell of pine and morning. I was ready to go home and sleep until the heaviness in my heart faded.

  A twig snapped to my left. I froze, alert to the possibility of danger. But then Yahn stepped out from behind a wide tree trunk. At the sight of him, something inexpressible swelled in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself from rushing to his side, from throwing my arms around him.

  I had so many feelings but no words. It was probably just as well. Speaking would have only released the tears I was trying so hard to hold in.

  “It brings me joy to see you safe,” Yahn said. We parted, but his gaze stayed connected to mine. “You did a great thing, Maggie. You saved many, many lives.”

  I shook my head, filled with sorrow. “If only I could have done more.”

  Yahn was quiet in mournful agreement. He stroked my horse’s mane. “What will you do now? Will you have a place to stay in the town? And a way to care for your sister?”

  I nodded. When I’d made it back to town, the day of the battle, I immediately went to Adelaide. I helped Moon John until late into the night, searching his books for possible relic cures, then grinding and mixing the right elixir. It was worth all the work to simply see Adelaide okay, but then, as Moon John and I cleaned up, he made an unexpected offer, asking if I would like to be his apprentice. He told me he would provide for Ella and me while I trained, and one day, I’d repay him when I was working in a relic refinery of my own. Even days later, it almost seemed too wonderful to believe.

  “I’ve found good work,” I said. “And we have a place to stay for a while. We’re going to be okay.”

  Yahn nodded. “I am relieved to hear this. I hope you know that you are welcome to return to our tribe at any time if you ever need help.”

  “Thank you.”

  A silence fell. It was my cue to say farewell, to let him rejoin his tribe and their continuing ceremony. But my feet remained rooted to the ground. How could I leave him after everything that had happened? After everything I’d learned? He was part of me now, and I him, and I didn’t want to let that go. Would I ever see him again? We lived in different worlds, worlds that rarely intersected. Would this moment be the last I looked on his face?

  “Maggie.”

  Hearing him say my name only drove the wedge of sorrow deeper into my heart. It was time for me to leave. I knew that it was time.

  Choking back emotion, I turned my eyes to the ground. “I don’t want to say good-bye.”

  “Then do not.”

  If only it could be true. I blinked hard, but two tears escaped, anyway. I kept my face down so he wouldn’t see. “Then what do we say, Yahn?”

  He set his hand beneath my chin and gently turned my face forward. His eyes were warm and sad and beautiful.

  “We say egogahan,” he whispered, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “In our tongue, it means ‘until we meet again.’”

  I knew I shouldn’t, but the words tumbled out in a trembling murmur. “And will we?”

  A small smile brightened his face. “Perhaps, Maggie Davis. Perhaps.”

  Like a phoenix, the town of Burning Mesa rose out of the ashes. After the funerals and memorials had been held, we all did what tough desert folk have to do. We picked ourselves up and started again.

  The weeks after the battle brought a flurry of rebuilding. A long, fresh rain had passed over the land, cleaning away the ash and heat, and by the time the sun came out again, the whole town seemed ready to press on. You couldn’t throw a stone without hearing the hum of a saw or smelling the fresh pine of new wood or hearing the clang of hammers on nails.

  And more than buildings were coming up. Our hope returned. Word came of towns rebuilding everywhere, of fresh groups of settlers coming out West to make a life in this desert. Sheriff Leander promised that Álvar Castilla would be found and brought to justice, that new peace treaties would be made with the Apaches. It was like Burning Mesa had come alive again.

  True, I still had unanswered questions deep in my heart. And the faintest hint of shadow still lingered over all that had occurred, but I decided not to focus on that. For now, we were safe. And that was all that mattered.

  One of the biggest rebuilding projects was to raise up The Desert Rose again. With Connelly dead and Álvar gone, the half-burne
d saloon might have been torn down completely. But Eddie rallied a group of the weekend regulars to take up their hammers and nails and bring back The Rose.

  The sound of their work in the air on a bright, warm morning did my heart good. I’d helped Adelaide into the large wheeled chair the town doctor had lent us, and we walked to the bustling site. Men worked in every corner, carrying long, clean planks of wood and handfuls of nails. The dancer girls scurried around with pails of water, laughing and flirting with the workers to lift their spirits. And on the streets, townspeople watched the progress with parasols and curiosity unfurled.

  As we approached, Eddie, who was busy framing, waved at us and shouted out a greeting. Ella ran ahead, grinning. She’d taken quite a shine to him lately.

  “Let me help, Eddie!” she cried. “I can help!”

  “Come on over, pretty girl,” he called. “You and me will build this place good.”

  I wheeled Adelaide to a shady spot, away from the crowds. “Comfortable?” I asked, arranging the blanket that was draped over her lap.

  She nodded, smiling weakly. I turned to go, but she grabbed my hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said. Her eyes searched my face, and I saw the faintest gleam of tears on them.

  “What is it?” I asked, kneeling by her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I just wish Bobby could be here.”

  I set my hand over hers. “I know.”

  “No, listen to me. I wish Bobby could be here to see that I’m gonna be all right. If this old saloon can be built again, well…so can I.”

  “I think he knows,” I said softly. “I think he’s here right now, with Landon and my mama and papa and Jeb. All of ’em watching over us.”

  She smiled at the thought and nestled back in her chair. I squeezed her hand. Even after all the good that had happened, my throat still choked up at the thought of those I’d lost. I was going to be all right, too, though their absence left a hole in me I suspected would never close up.

  But I aimed to see that their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. The rest of the Ko Zhin was out there, and I intended to learn everything I possibly could about it. And for the first time, it wasn’t out of any abiding curiosity about relics but out of a sense of duty. A determination that not one more innocent life would be touched by dark magic.

  I saw Moon John waiting at one of the intact tables. He’d asked me to meet him that morning to discuss the very matter of the Ko Zhin.

  I took a seat beside him, and he lifted a small silver pitcher. “Have some lemonade?”

  “Sure,” I said, smiling. I reached for a few folded sheets of paper in my apron pocket. “I copied down a bit more information on rare fire relics. Nothing about the Ko Zhin, of course, but it’s good background information.”

  “Excellent,” he said, pouring me a drink. “Keep reading that text. There is still much we can learn.”

  “And you said you have something for me?” I asked.

  “Indeed.” Moon John set down the pitcher. “You know the sheriff has been interrogating some Hacienda deserters. One of them talked. Leander wouldn’t tell me much, but he did mention that Álvar had a special interest in the Harpy Caverns. Apparently, there was something in them that he was very interested in. Something relic related. Only a few of his closest inner circle knew the details.”

  The hairs on my arms prickled up. I remembered the strange mining shaft that night we hunted ghost coyotes, the dark, bent tunnel that had called to me so powerfully.

  “And there is more,” Moon John went on. “A relic scholar from back East was planning to come out and stay at the Hacienda. They think it had something to do with whatever was in the caves. Word is, he was bringing his own specialized team of relic extractors.”

  My throat felt dry. “Is the sheriff going to investigate the caverns?”

  Moon John nodded slowly. “We would hope, but in the meantime, we must be vigilant. I doubt the razing of the Hacienda will keep such a man away forever.”

  “Right,” I murmured.

  Perhaps reading the look of concern on my face, Moon John set his hand on my shoulder. “Do not be troubled, Maggie. Our town is well protected. Especially now, considering the new friendly terms with the Apaches. If anyone tries to come for us again, we will be ready.” His confidence made me feel a little better, and I managed a smile.

  At that moment, Ella skipped up to us, her cheeks pink from helping Eddie. “Hi, Moon John,” she chirped.

  “Good morning to you, Miss Davis,” he said, smiling widely. “Are you having a good time this morning?”

  “Oh, yes, sir.” Ella grabbed my hand. “Come here, Maggie. I want to show you the wood I nailed up.”

  “And I want to see it.”

  I stood, and Moon John nodded warmly for me to run along. Ella grabbed my hand, pulling me out into the street so we could get a full view of the slowly growing structure.

  “That plank right there,” she said, pointing with a proud smile. “I put the nails in all by myself.”

  I scooped her into a sideways hug. “Well, would you look at that! I’m real proud of you, baby girl.”

  She beamed, and we stood for a moment, arm in arm, watching The Desert Rose in the bright desert sunshine.

  Ella rested her head on my side. “Is this gonna be our new home, Maggie?”

  “I think so. Does that sound good to you?”

  “I want to be wherever you are.”

  A tremor of emotion gripped my throat, and I knelt in front of her, holding her shoulders in my hands. “You will be, Ella. We’re a family, no matter what. And I promise, we’ll never be apart again.” I touched her chin. “Sound like a plan?”

  “Okay, Maggie.”

  A smile grew on her face, and she looked so much like Jeb, it almost hurt. I knew I could never make things exactly like they were before, but for Ella, I had every intention to try.

  “Can we have lunch now?” she asked, grabbing my hand. “All that hard work made me so hungry, I could eat a dragon.”

  I laughed. “Well, I don’t know about a dragon, but I think we have some fried chicken left.”

  I turned to get Adelaide when I noticed a man running down the street, heading toward us. Straining for a better look, I recognized Sheriff Leander. For a moment, my heart froze to see him looking so intense, and a flourish of fear ran through my brain. After all we’d been through, I didn’t think I could bear more trouble. I gripped Ella’s shoulder, but as Sheriff Leander approached, I noticed he was beaming.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” he cried, running up to me. He was red-faced from his sprint and sweaty, but he was smiling.

  “Heard what?” I asked.

  He bent over for a moment to catch his breath. Then he looked up, once again smiling. “Come on,” he said. “There’s something you need to see.”

  I followed him to the town infirmary, my heart inexplicably pounding. Sheriff Leander led me to the hospital room. Patients from the battle lay in the row of beds in varying states of recovery. A worn-looking nurse bustled around with medicine and relic elixirs for the pain. I couldn’t understand why the sheriff had brought me here, until my eyes fell on the last bed, tucked beneath the far window, resting in a beam of bright sunshine.

  The patient slowly turned his face to me. In an instant, the room blurred. There was only my pounding heart, only this sharp ringing in my ears. The light streaming in the window glinted off a pair of sky-blue eyes.

  His face badly cut and half covered with white bandages, Landon Black managed his usual, charming smile.

  Acknowledgments

  So many people helped make this dream come true for me. I wish I could give you all a hug, but we can settle for a shout out.

  First, I want to thank my spectacular agent, Mollie Glick. You’re a true pro. Relic wouldn’t be what it is without your fantastic insights and hard work. Thanks also to Kathleen Hamblin and Brandy Rivers.


  I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Stacy Abrams, my outstanding, brilliant editor. Thank you for loving and believing in my story. It’s truly been a dream working with you.

  Thanks to all the lovely people at Entangled: Tara Gonzales, Alycia Tornetta, Kari Bradley, J.J. Bonds, Heather Riccio, Annette Macias and Alexandra Shostak. You’ve all helped make this experience perfect for me.

  I feel beyond lucky to have made such generous, funny and talented writer friends over the years. Natalie Whipple, Kasie West, Jenn Johansson, Candice Kennington, Michelle D. Argyle and Sara Raasch. Thank you for guiding me through my many Philosophical Journeys, for making me laugh my head off, for letting me read your incredible books, and for helping to make me the writer I am today. I love you all!

  And thank you to the many other fabulous writers I’ve come to know who have read for me, helped me and been there for me. Kiersten White, Kristen L. Martin, Chantele Sedgwick and Sara Larson, to name a few.

  Love to all my Colorado peeps! The Best Book Club Ever: Jenn, Betsy, Darcy, Celeste, Mindy, Cheyanna, Suzy, Melissa, Amy and Kendra—you all really are the best. And thank you to my beautiful friends, Natalie and Lisa. This moment wouldn’t be as fun without my CC.

  I have so much gratitude for my family. Mom and Dad, you taught me to believe in myself, to push myself. You showed me so many amazing new places. You nurtured my creativity and gave me a happy, adventurous childhood. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Jared, Sarah, Becca, Diana, Rachel and Amy, you’re the best siblings ever, and I thank you for all the love and support over the years.

  Becca, thank you for that one awesome lunch at Cafe Rio, when we said, “Why not me?” That started everything. Diana, thank you for the countless talks and advice, not just about Relic, but everything else. Thank you for always completely believing that I’d reach this point one day. I hope you know I most certainly could not have without you.