Qaletaqa

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Finally we all stood back and tearfully said goodbye. I knew one of us would die. Not a single vision had shown the Matwau’s death without a life being sacrificed to make it possible. Talon was an animal, but his death was no less profound than a human’s. He gave his life for Uriah. Animal or not, his sacrifice would never be forgotten by any of us.

  Or by the gods.

  We were about to turn away when the sands around our feet shifted. Exactly where we had buried Talon, a tiny green shoot sped out of the sand. It grew quickly, turning white and blooming the familiar rounded leaves of an aspen tree. Within seconds it was fully grown, but the gods weren’t finished yet. Everywhere, tiny trees sprang out of the sand. Pines and aspens both grew up to fill the once desolate valley with life. It wasn’t the only change.

  When we had first come to the valley, the evil power of the dark gods had been felt in every particle of sand, very breath. Now peace filled the valley. Thick and warm, it wrapped around us like a promise made between friends. Never again would this valley be filled with death. Never again would there be a monster like the Matwau. I took a deep breath the slipped my hand into Uriah’s. He pulled me against him and we walked away, into a future completely unknown.

  Epilogue

  The excruciating pain showed only in the slight lines of tension in her neck. Claire’s face was filled with serenity. Slow rhythmic breaths moved in and out of her body. Claire had lost her power when we fought the Matwau, but she held onto the meditation techniques Kaya had taught her. She employed every one of them now.

  Having Kaya here with us was as comforting for Claire as having her mom with her. Quaile stood back, a little apart from everyone else as usual, but much of the barriers she had once kept had been pulled down. She was in our home often now, as a friend. That had not been easy to negotiate. We had all changed a lot since Claire and I first approached her and Elder’s. Today we were more concerned with physical changes than any other kind. Poised on the bed between Kaya and her mother, Claire drew on their strength. My mom stood next to me, gripping my hand, as she waited for her first grandchild to be born.

  Two bundles of blankets and layettes sat waiting on the cabinet. Blue and Pink. We could have gone to Santa Fe to learn the sex of the baby, but I think we were both too afraid to find out. We were both worried we would hear the doctor say it was a boy.

  A boy who would follow me around and learn from me like I did from my father was something I wanted very badly, but not yet. First, I wanted my little girl. I knew her face. I dreamed about her every night.

  Kaya’s vision was brief, my little daughter running happily across the wooden floors of my childhood home, and gave no indication of whether she would be the first or the last, but I needed to see her now. I needed to know that the promises the vision had made would truly be given. In the three years since coming home, Claire and I had been happy together. Our wedding the following summer was beautiful and filled with the people we loved, with the exception of my father.

  Claire’s father, though, was there and surprisingly gracious. He had apologized for everything the moment he found out we were back in San Juan. Claire had told me about how he’d helped her, but it had still been a shock. It took a while for me to get used to being openly welcomed in his presence. It was a rare thing now to have him argue with me about anything. He called me his son, and the only reason he wasn’t in the room now was because Claire’s mother had forbid him. She had already gone through two deliveries with him and said that was enough. Apparently he didn’t handle the pressure very well. He was waiting in the living room.

  We had been happier than we ever expected to be since returning, but that lingering doubt that life was truly moving forward had plagued me and Claire both. Did Talon really have to die? Was Claire giving up the ability to see into our family’s future and protect the people she loved worth the sacrifice? Had every choice been the right one?

  When Claire announced she was pregnant last spring the dreams of my daughter started. They weren’t the kind of dreams Claire used to have, just my own hopes and fears played over and over in my mind. They baited me into questioning the choices that had led me here, and at the same time reassured me this was where I was supposed to be.

  Claire’s breathing started to quicken. Her hands squeezed her mother’s more tightly. Nodding her silent approval that it was time, Sophia positioned herself at Claire’s feet. I didn’t think I breathed the whole time. Waves of pain rolled through her, but she bore it as best she could.

  Months earlier Claire had decided that her mom and Kaya would help her through the delivery. She wanted me to be ready to help with the baby as soon as it was born. That didn’t last very long. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Claire beckoned me to her side. Together we rode out the pain and were rewarded with the piercing cry of a child.

  “Go help with the baby,” Claire whispered as she sank down into the bed.

  Kissing her forehead quickly, I turned Claire back over to her beaming mother and rushed to Sophia’s side. She already had the baby wrapped in a receiving blanket. A pink one. Fresh tears welled in my eyes and my breath suddenly escaped me.

  “It’s a girl?”

  “It’s a girl,” Sophia said. “A beautiful baby girl.”

  Shifting slightly, she held the child out to me. I hesitated for just a second. Would it be her? Slowly, I reached out and took my infant daughter in my arms. Her little mouth opened wide in a yawn before closing again. Bright eyes peered up at me and I knew. The round little face was years younger than the one I had seen in Kaya’s vision, but I knew it was her. Every ounce of doubt I had fell away. Claire lifted her tired head as I held the baby up for her to see, taking in the color of the blanket with a sigh of relief, but her eyes still held a question. My grin was answer enough.

  “Hello, little one,” I cooed. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

  “What will you name her?” Sophia asked.

  I shook my head. “We haven’t decided yet.”

  I nodded to Kaya and she started toward me. Quaile leaned forward in anticipation. Claire said that Kaya would know what the baby’s name was supposed to be when she held the child. It was Quaile’s rightful place, but she had been the one to suggest Kaya stand in for her. I had no idea what made Claire so sure about this, but I didn’t question her.

  Claire was anxious to hold the baby, but Kaya reached out for our daughter and I carefully handed her over. I set her down in Kaya’s arms and went to Claire’s side. The baby’s hand reached out and took hold of Kaya’s finger when she tried to stroke the infant’s cheek. The moment they touched, everything froze. It was as if the whole room had taken a deep breath and held it tight. Eyes wide in surprise, I didn’t move at all. Not until a single tear slid down Kaya’s face.

  That one little drop of salty amazement filled the room with life again. I almost staggered under the sudden change. Glancing at Kaya, Claire and I were both at a loss for words to explain what had just happened. Our question was silent, but Kaya answered through joyous tears.

  “Your daughter’s name is Aylen. Happiness. And she will live an amazing life.”

  The End of Book Three

  Also by DelSheree Gladden

  Escaping Fate

  Twin Souls: Book One of the Twin Souls Saga

  Qaletaqa: Book Three of the Twin Souls Saga

  Inquest: Book One of the Destroyer Trilogy

  (Coming September 2012)

  Check out this Sneak Peek of

  Inquest: Book One of The Destroyer Trilogy

  Chapter 1

  Imagined Perfection

  I never thought someone I loved would try to kill me. But when you know you’re going to do something worse, does that make it okay? Should you hope for that person to succeed?

  The numbers on my phone glare back at me, reminding me that I only have six hours left to live. Guardian law is absolute. Another minute passes and the urge to hide grows. It’s a familiar feeling. One I’ve qu
ietly obeyed most of my life. Hide my talents, my power, my destiny. Lie when I’m questioned. Do whatever it takes to keep my secret safe. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but it won’t matter in six hours. I will be revealed for who and what I am, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  I just wish my best friend, Jen, would stop talking about it so I can put it out of my mind. Not that she knows what is going to happen tonight, of course, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to snatch the hot pink daisy right out of her bouncy blond hair and stuff it in her mouth. Keeping myself from breaking down into a trembling puddle of fear is hard enough without her non-stop jabbering.

  “I can’t believe in a few hours you’ll have a new name, Libby.”

  Neither can I, but I say, “What’s the big deal, Jen? It’s just my Inquest. Everyone goes through theirs. It’s the law. Everyone gets a new name they never even use. Everyone goes on with their lives like nothing happened. It’s not a big deal.”

  “What about your talents being unlocked, and the diktats? Those are definitely a big deal.”

  My fingers subconsciously rub the smooth skin of my left wrist. It won’t stay smooth for much longer. After my Inquest, the diktats will mar me for the rest of my life, however short that might be.

  Jen notices me poking at my skin and raises a smug eyebrow. I turn away from her before she thinks too hard about what wrist I was fiddling with and shove a book back into my locker. When I slam the door shut, irritated that she’s seeing through my false confidence, her expression is even haughtier. Her green eyes pierce me in a way that makes me look away. Despite the fact that I wish she’d just leave me alone right now, Jen’s ability to see through my bravado is why she’s my best friend. I need someone who can keep me grounded.

  “Well, I can’t wait for my Inquest,” Jen says. “I think getting a new name and finding out what my talents are and what job they’ll assign me to is going to be awesome.”

  “I already know what my talents are. Painting, sketching, give me a pencil or a brush and I’ll do whatever you want with it. Those are my only talents.” At least as far as anyone else knows those are my only talents. And I am praying my guts out that it will stay that way. The Inquisitor is old, really old. Maybe he won’t see anything in me tonight. That’s my only hope now, and it’s a pretty slim one. “Why do I need some old man to tell me I’m going to be an artist? My school schedule isn’t even going to change. Nothing is going to change. The whole thing is just a big waste of time.”

  “Those aren’t the talents I’m talking about, and you know it.”

  Now it’s my turn to feel superior. My dark eyebrows lift in a smirk. “Oh really? Why do you think I prefer organic oil paints, or why I use natural horsehair brushes over synthetic? Why don’t I ever wear fabrics that aren’t made of natural fibers?”

  Jen’s berry colored lips pop open in excitement. “You think Naturalism is going to be one of your talents? That’s great, Libby. You’ll be in the Creator class, then. If you have a Common name you’ll be screwed, stuck in some boring job like a gardener or something. A Warrior name would be a little better, but not much. An Iconic name, though, you’d be scooped up as a state-funded artist for sure. That would be so awesome!” She pauses, her enthusiasm waning. “Knowing so much already kind of ruins the surprise, though, doesn’t it?”

  “My thoughts exactly. I already know what the Inquisitor is going to tell me. Why go?”

  “Why? Because the Guardians will hunt you down and drag you back to the Inquisitor if you try to run away from your Inquest, that’s why. Besides, you don’t know everything,” Jen reminds me. “You still have to find out your name. There’s no way you can know that already.”

  I roll my eyes and lean against my locker. Two bulky guys from the football team rumble down the hall, pausing in their heckling of each other to look over at us. After seeing that my boyfriend, Lance, isn’t around, they turn away without acknowledging me. I frown at them before reluctantly turning my attention back to Jen. I really wish she would just drop the subject all together and let me focus on trying not to throw up. “Who cares what my name is going to be? Like I said before, nobody ever actually uses their true name. I don’t see the point in even getting one.”

  “You of all people should want a new name.”

  “It will probably be awful, anyway.”

  Flopping against the locker next to me, Jen lets out an exasperated breath. “Your parents already covered that one. I mean, seriously, who would ever choose Libitina? You’re named after a roman death goddess, for crying out loud! Like any kid wants that following them through school. Creepy. It sounds like some kind of Goth ballerina freak. Your parents must have been high, or something.”

  “It’s an old family name, supposedly.” I’m more inclined to believe that my mom knew she’d hate me from the moment she met me.

  “What, did your family pop out of a Bram Stoker novel or something? Anyway, there’s no way you’d get stuck with another name like that. Fate can’t be that cruel.”

  “Clearly you don’t know me very well, then,” I say. If something bad could happen, it would happen to me. A dozen broken bones, various serious injuries, embarrassing stories, that’s me. I am a magnet for unfortunate situations. Granted, most of those mishaps were caused by either my own stupidity or some brilliant idea I had, but still.

  “Well, it’s too bad the best name the Inquisitor could give you is also the worst one. Despite how horrible it would be to actually get it, I’ve always liked the name Cassia. It sounds so ancient and regal.”

  I turn so I’m facing her directly. “There is nothing regal about that name,” I snap. “I can’t believe you’re even mentioning it. Please, Jen. I have some trig to finish during lunch. Let’s go already.”

  “Aren’t you even a little bit nervous about tonight?” Jen asks.

  I have to lie again. “No.”

  I hate lying to Jen, but I can’t let her see how scared I am or she’ll know I’m hiding something. Jen can be relentless when there’s a secret nearby. There is a reason her articles on the school blog are the most read, hottest thing on the page. They might be the only thing anyone actually reads.

  “Excited?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Scared?”

  Before I can shake my head again I feel someone’s arms wrap around my waist. “Scared about what?” Lance asks.

  “Her Inquest.”

  Lance leans his head down and kisses my neck, making me sigh. His sandy blond hair tickles my skin as he moves to kiss my forehead. “There’s nothing about an Inquest to be scared of,” he says. “Unless you have a problem with pain.”

  “Thanks,” I say, but my fingers wind around his where I can feel the raised, scarred flesh of the diktats that run along the inside of his wrist. His right wrist, exactly where they’re supposed to be. Feeling them makes me shiver. I have a huge problem with pain. I can handle it with the best of them, given my vast experience with it, but for that same reason even the idea of being hurt makes me start smelling hospital antiseptic. That scent sends me into a panic quicker than anything else.

  The chime of Jen’s phone makes her whip it out of her pocket at lightning speed. Her fingers flash across the screen as she brings up the text message she just received. An instant later she groans and stuffs the phone back into her pocket.

  “Speaking of pain, I’ve gotta go.”

  I can’t help the bubble of pleasure that I won’t have to listen to her badgering me about my Inquest. Still, her mention of pain forces guilt into my mind and presses my best friend button. “Go where? We’ve still got three more classes.”

  “Remember? The dentist?” I shake my head at her. She shrugs and continues. “Oh, I thought I told you my mom was checking me out for a dentist appointment. One of my fillings cracked and I haven’t been able to drink a soda in days.”

  Rolling my eyes dramatically, I say, “Oh, dear, you poor thing. You’d better hurry. I wouldn�
�t want you to die from lack of carbonation.”

  With a flip of her long, blond hair, she sticks her nose in the air. “You’ll feel really terrible if I keel over dead and miss your Inquest.”

  “Actually, that might be the only thing that would get me out of my Inquest.” I almost feel like it would be worth it. Guilt for my dark thoughts crashes against my carefully controlled emotions, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold onto my composure. For once, Jen doesn’t notice my internal struggle.

  “Whatever,” she says, “I’ll be at your house at five to help you get ready, if you’re still sure it’s okay Lance and I come.”

  “I’m sure, Jen. I got permission from Inquisitor Moore months ago. All the paperwork saying you and Lance are allowed to attend are safely stowed in his safe. The Guardians aren’t going to arrest you for trying to crash my Inquest. I promise.”

  Jen grimaces. I have to stop myself from doing the same. Just thinking about the Guardians putting their hands on me again makes me shudder. With all the times I’ve snuck out or tried to escape my mom, I’ve been dragged back way too many times by those cretins.

  “You’re sure?” Jen asks again.

  “I’m positive.”

  “Okay,” she says. “I’ll be by tonight, then. Maybe we can actually do something with that blah hair of yours.”