Crossroads Burning

by Nash, Layla

  I didn’t look at him but figured it was about time he started asking questions, particularly after what he’d heard in the bar and seen out at the house. “Go ahead and ask.”

  It was his turn to chuckle. “That transparent, am I?”

  “Nah, I’m psychic.” When he didn’t laugh, I glanced over and tried to smile. “Just kidding. You’re pretty easy to read.”

  He didn’t grin, like I hoped, and his expression was far more serious than I’d expected. Like maybe he believed in psychics and thought I was serious. Lincoln’s dark eyes stayed on me even as his horse tossed its head and snorted, reacting to the tension. “Well, that kid in the bar called you a witch, so I guess psychic isn’t that far off.”

  My heart sank, and I shook my head as I went back to staring at my horse’s ears. Great. “People in this town don’t really like my family. They make up whatever they need to in order to justify being dicks to us. That’s the long and the short of it.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you looked so hurt when that kid said it.”

  I winced, not liking the taste of regret. I handed him the coffee mug and nudged my horse to move up. “Yeah. That’s a longer story. Excuse me, I need to ask Eddie something.”

  “Anastasia...”

  I left Lincoln behind, standing in the stirrups after encouraging my horse to trot and scowling at the mule to make it do the same. That wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him at any time of day, regardless of how much coffee he brought me. My bad decisions were my own, and I didn’t have to share them no matter how many funny stories he told about crazy mountain monsters.

  “Eddie,” I said, and the ranger glanced up from his study of a map. I tilted my head to indicate I wanted to talk to him away from the others, and didn’t do more than smile at Hazel before we pulled our horses aside. The pack mules snorted to each other, as if they commiserated about their ill treatment, and I checked the lead rein’s knots carefully. “Did you plot the coordinates of where they think the drone was lost?”

  “Right here,” he said, and handed me the much-folded map. “The black X, right smack in the middle of the Crossroads. The crossroads of the Crossroads.” And he chuckled, though there wasn’t much mirth in it. He didn’t look pleased about going so deep into the dead zone.

  I held the map and ran my fingers over the different marks, letting my magic flow out and through the horse into the earth until I felt more connected. Centered. The horse, at least, was accustomed to it and didn’t do more than heave an expressive sigh. I closed my eyes and searched for any hint of trouble around us, through the map and through the horse and into the ley lines that pulsed beneath the earth and all around us. The coordinates for the drone’s demise were indeed in the center of the Crossroads, right where two major ley lines met and tangled and then fractured into a dozen smaller lines that spread out like the spokes of a wheel.

  “Strange,” I said, close to a whisper, and squinted at the map as all the lines seemed to fade and waver. “How would it land perfectly in the center?”

  The park ranger leaned his elbow on the saddle horn, frowning as he studied me. “You think something’s up?”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t let go of the magic, taking comfort in the familiar ebb and flow of it, and anchored myself in one of the smaller ley lines. I’d often wondered where they led and how far they went, spreading out from Rattler’s Run and into the world. Someday I wanted to follow one until I couldn’t follow it anymore. “What university are they with?”

  “Some federal department, not a university. They were referred from Washington, although the story has changed a bit.” Eddie looked straight ahead, though I noticed one of his hands patted at the saddle and the long sheath for his rifle on his right side. “They had the proper identification, Luckett. I don’t know why anyone would lie about losing a piece of research equipment out on the prairie.”

  “Neither do I,” I said. “But something is off.”

  Eddie frowned more and started shaking his head. “We’re turning back. I don’t want to play games out here.”

  “No,” I said. I released the magic and handed him back the map, trying to convince myself it wasn’t about the money and I would have gone on even if it didn’t mean losing five thousand dollars. “I don’t get a bad feeling about it, or that there’s danger. Just that something’s off.”

  The park ranger didn’t look convinced. “I’m not about to risk it, not when we’ll be out here. They can write off the data or go on their own.”

  “Eddie,” I said quietly, not wanting to alarm him too much. I’d probably already said too much, and the ranger would go around giving the four strangers the stink eye and getting them just as suspicious of us as we were of them. “There were four massive wolves at the house last night, and they had to come from somewhere. I want to make sure they didn’t come out of the Crossroads, because that would mean they’re a little more than your average wolf. Right? So we need to check up there anyway. We might as well do it now.”

  “I’d rather hunt them from a helicopter,” he said. “If the wolves are crazy enough to go up to a house, they’re crazy enough to attack us out here, or the horses. You’ve lost your damn mind, Luckett.”

  “I know.”

  Eddie handed the map back to me. “Then pick a place to stop for lunch and one to make camp tonight, since there’s no way in hell we’ll reach the Crossroads today. I don’t want to spend one night more than necessary inside the zone.”

  “There’s a crick up ahead,” I said. “That’s good enough for lunch and resting the horses, and I’ll figure out where’s the best place to camp tonight.”

  He went off to tell the others, muttering under his breath, and I pretended to study the map so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone as we dismounted and loosened the girths on the saddles so the horses could breathe easy. We set them to grazing and then Mason and Nelson pulled out sandwiches and jerky from the packs on one of the mules. Hazel sat down next to the creek with a groan, trying to stretch her legs. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  I filled my water bottle and dropped a bit of iodine in it to kill any creepy crawlies in the water. “Your ass would hurt worse if we went by SUV, I promise.”

  “I believe you,” she said. “But I still don’t like it.”

  I smiled and stretched my legs. They had no idea how much worse it would get.

  Chapter 10

  By the end of the day, as we made camp next to a stand of cottonwoods and another small creek, all four of the greenhorns were moving slowly and stiffly, and Mason groaned every time he had to lean down or straighten up or twist in any direction. I wasn’t feeling much better, since it had been some time since I’d stayed in the saddle all day, but I knew better than to complain.

  Eddie supervised making a small fire, lining the area with rocks and gathering the minimum amount of kindling, and setting up the stand that would hold a pot over the flames. He also got the propane stove going, since we’d need both to get dinner made in a timely manner. I kept an eye on how the others treated the horses as they unsaddled and brushed them down, but I was glad to see they were all careful and took their time. My horse swished her tail and stomped, gearing up for a kick to show her displeasure with having to walk for an entire day, but she grudgingly ate the peppermints I offered and sidled up to Eddie’s horse to see whether he had any grain left.

  I took my time caring for the horse and setting up my tent, longer than I even normally would have, just to avoid sitting down at the fire with the group. Eddie suspected, I think, that something kept me away, because he asked me to scout around the creek and close by to see whether there were any suspicious tracks in the area. It gave me a chance to collect my thoughts and send my magic out to search for hidden dangers as the sun slowly set. I took the rifle with me, just in case.

  I should have known better than to expect to disappear without someone asking questions. I hadn’t gotten more than twenty feet away before Hazel jo
gged to catch up, smiling. “Mind if I go with you?”

  “There’s not much to see, hopefully,” I said, but I couldn’t rightly refuse. Just because there were unanswered questions surrounding them didn’t mean I could be rude. Ma would have skinned me alive. And I couldn’t really blame them, either—since I was sure they had a shitload of questions about me.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I just don’t want to hang around the boys. It’s been a long trip full of testosterone so far, and a little break would be nice.”

  I smiled a bit to myself, since I usually had the opposite problem of too many women around. The Lucketts hadn’t had a boy born into the family in generations, so we had more than our fair share of estrogen to contend with. It made life hell on a monthly basis. “Must be a problem in your field.”

  “My field?” She glanced over, hands shoved in her pockets, then went back to scanning the horizon for the Bell only knew what.

  “Wildlife research,” I said. I didn’t want to hold my breath, but I spoke with only half my mind on the words coming out of my mouth. “Or government work. Either one. I’d imagine those are pretty male-dominated, right?”

  Hazel’s steps slowed, and I wondered whether I’d unintentionally—or intentionally—struck a nerve. I hadn’t had many friends in my life, particularly female ones, so it was hard to gauge whether I’d said something off-putting or violated some conversational rule. I was in uncharted territory, particularly since she wasn’t from Rattler’s Run and didn’t already know all the worst things about me.

  “Word sure gets around, doesn’t it?” Hazel heaved a sigh, catching up. “We didn’t want everyone to know we’re from the government. Rattler’s Run doesn’t have the reputation as being particularly welcoming for our type. Which is also why we haven’t been flashing IDs and wearing the badly-made suits.”

  I wanted to laugh but hesitated, glancing over at her to see whether she was joking or not. When I saw her grin, I figured it was okay to smile back, though I returned my attention to the ground and possible tracks. “Probably safer that way, although you all are too clean-cut for the regular tourists.”

  “I’ll put that in my report.” Hazel sauntered along, pretending to watch everything else, though I could feel part of her attention on me.

  I adjusted my grip on the rifle and tried to push my magic out once more, even though I’d done so several times as we rode and felt the drain on my energy after the long night of setting wards around the house. The magic responded sluggishly and I had to redouble my efforts, frowning as it took more and more effort just to feel connected to the earth. The ley lines pulsed, farther away than normal, and seemed to slip through my fingers every time I got close to them.

  Strange.

  It took more of my concentration and my pace slowed, and when I still couldn’t connect, I crouched down under the guise of studying a disturbed clump of grass, and worked my fingers into the soil. We were still at least a couple of days from the edge of the active zone, when I couldn’t help but connect with the ley lines, but I’d never had so much trouble finding them elsewhere. It was like they’d retreated deeper into the earth.

  I brushed my hands off and straightened, frowning as I looked around. At least there weren’t any signs of dire wolves, or regular wolves for that matter.

  “So, this might be awkward,” Hazel said, and I froze. She laughed. “Maybe only a little bit awkward, and you can tell me to go to hell if you want to, I promise.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to sound as guarded as I felt.

  “What were you and Lincoln talking about earlier today?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I’ve never seen him talk that long,” she said. She looked more like a high schooler digging for gossip than a woman at least five years older than me talking about a colleague. “Seriously. Ever. And I’ve worked for him for six years.”

  I blinked more. “Wait—you work for him? He’s the boss?”

  She laughed and started to walk away, swinging her arms. The sun sank below the horizon in the west, setting the sky on fire with reds and oranges and hints of pink. “Yeah, he’s the boss. Couldn’t be anything else, I think. Normally he’s quiet. Unless he’s pissed off, then he’s silent. Mason and I have a bet going on what he was running his mouth about.”

  “Oh?” My cheeks heated and I adjusted my grip on the rifle. I needed to stay aloof. He wasn’t staying in Rattler’s Run. None of them were staying. I was just a distraction for Lincoln on an otherwise boring assignment in the middle of nowhere. I could play it like I was in on the joke. “How much do you have riding on it?”

  “Only twenty right now.” She slid me a sidelong look. “Was he boring you with details about theories of bureaucracies? Did he mention Weber at all?”

  A smile slipped free as I paused on top of a slight rise, scanning the surroundings for a hint of predators or any animals at all. Magic vibrated in the air and sank into the earth far away to the west, where the Crossroads waited. “No. He was telling me stories about growing up in West Virginia.”

  “Wait…what?” Hazel’s eyes widened just slightly. “He’s from West Virginia?”

  “Yeah?” I glanced back at where we’d made camp, wondering how long it would take for dinner to be ready so I could eat and go to sleep without any more awkward conversations. “Why is that a surprise?”

  “He doesn’t talk about himself. I don’t even know where he lives.” A radio clipped to her belt squawked, making me jump, and Nelson’s disembodied voice muttered something about food and broke into chirps and growls. She held the radio to her mouth and said, “Cut it out, Nelson.”

  Then she looked at me, “He does that on purpose.” And then Nelson’s voice came through the radio loud and clear, to tell us dinner was ready and Mason was about to eat our portions as well as his own.

  “Great.” I took one last look at where the Crossroads waited, then my attention drifted north as the earth shivered under my feet and tried to send up a warning. Something brewed in the distance, waiting for us. Waiting for me. “That’s why I always bring jerky and trail mix on these trips.”

  “So, stories from West Virginia,” she said as we started walking back. “Anything else?”

  “Not really.”

  “And it was one of those stories that got you all flustered and mad?”

  And again I stopped in my tracks. “Did he say something?”

  She laughed again, slapping my back. “Oh, honey. He didn’t have to. First of all, I know him; Lincoln is about a smooth as gravel. There was no way he could carry a conversation that long without sticking his foot in his mouth. Second, you rode off after listening to him for almost three hours straight, and you’ve spent the rest of the day avoiding all of us. Third, you’re pretty easy to read, and you looked like you bit into a lemon. And finally, we were all there at the bar when that redneck started getting in your face. There’s some kind of history that’s been brought up, and Lincoln spent most of last night trying to figure out what the hell happened and how he could fix it.”

  “You’re way nosier than the normal tourists,” I said under my breath. “And I don’t like to talk about myself, that’s all. He asked the same kind of questions that you are.”

  She didn’t scare easily, despite me scowling, and only nodded along. “Right. So there’s something between you and the asshole redneck?”

  “There used to be,” I said, and I didn’t know why I bothered to answer. Other than because we would all be hanging out for the next two weeks, at least, and things would get really uncomfortable if I refused to talk to anyone. “But it’s never fun to talk about a broken heart, and even less so when the one who crushed it still lives in town and rubs it in my face every chance he gets.”

  Her eyebrows arched in what could have been sympathy; it was hard to tell in the gloomy dark. The fire was the only spot of light in the prairie, and I slowed my steps to avoid tripping and falling. Or so I tried to tell myself. It wasn�
��t because I didn’t want to face Lincoln or the others, who’d bet on what their boss and I talked about. That certainly wasn’t why I dragged my feet.

  Hazel also moseyed to a stop. “Look, Anastasia...”

  “Seriously,” I muttered. “It’s Luckett. No one calls me Anastasia. No one.”

  “That’s too bad,” she said. “It’s a beautiful name. But in case no one’s told you this lately, you can do a hell of a lot better than that kid from the bar. I know this is a small town and it might not seem that way, but you can walk away from all of this and find someone who’s actually worth a damn. You’re young. Throw a dart at a map and find a place to start over and reinvent yourself.”

  I snorted, shaking my head as I started walking again. “I can’t leave Rattler’s Run. There is no starting over.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that’s just how it is,” I said. I compressed my lips as a surge of regret and grief caught me by surprise and almost embarrassed me right there as my voice cracked. Good thing it was dark.

  Hazel followed me a couple of steps and caught my arm to pull me to a stop. “Hey. Hold on a second.”

  “You don’t have to be nice to me,” I said. The words came out louder than I meant, and I had to pause to gather myself before I went on, hoping my voice didn’t break again and none of those regrets worked their way into tears. “It’s fine, believe me. I don’t need pity. I’m stuck here, in this small town where everyone remembers every dumb thing I’ve ever done or said or wanted, and that’s just how life is for some of us. And it’s even better that I get to see a constant flow of tourists to remind me of what I’ll never have. I’ve made my peace with it. You guys are here for one reason, and you’ll leave again as soon as you get the data you need. It’s fine. You don’t have to pretend to care.”

  And I tried to smile, so she’d believe it.

  Instead she looked alarmed. “Hon, I don’t know why –“