Authors: Jennifer Quintenz
Sensing the tension in the room, I turned and fled up the stairs. Instead of retreating all the way to my room, I hesitated in the hallway, just out of sight of the people below, still able to hear the confrontation clearly.
“I should probably clean up in the kitchen,” Karayan said quickly.
“Good idea.” Dad’s voice was hard and flat. I heard Karayan escape into the kitchen and peeked over the railing. Dad caught Hale by the arm and pulled him away from the dining room, closer to the stairwell. He lowered his voice, but I had no trouble making out the words. “What are you doing, Hale?”
“Nothing. What? Nothing.”
“You must know she’s nursing a crush on you.” Dad’s voice grated harshly. “You forget how
dangerous
she is, Hale.”
His words stung me, more than I could have anticipated. We’d lived with Karayan for months now, Dad had stood up for her more than once. If he still felt this way about her, what must he think of me? He knew I was stronger than Karayan. Didn’t that mean I was more dangerous than she was, too?
“I’d never cross the line, Murphy.” Hale’s voice rang with a defensive edge. “I know what she is.”
“And yet you get drunk with her?”
“She—she gave me a bottle of scotch.”
“This explains everything how?”
“I guess she knew I wasn’t thrilled about being alone tonight.” Hale’s voice grew somber. Dad eyed him closely.
“Tonight? Oh. Oh, of course.” Dad’s voice softened. “It’s the anniversary of Sarah’s death.”
“Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. But—in addition to everything else she is—Karayan is also becoming a good friend.”
Dad got quiet for a long moment. I leaned forward, and saw him glancing back at the dining room. I could still hear the water in the sink running. “How did she know about Sarah?”
“What?” Hale looked up, surprised.
“The anniversary. Did you tell her?”
“I don’t know if she even knows. Maybe she just sensed I was sad.” But Hale didn’t seem too sure. “Or maybe I mentioned it. We’ve talked about Sarah.”
“But you don’t remember telling her the date?”
“Maybe—maybe someone else told her.” Hale shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog of drink from his mind.
“Who else knows, Hale? Aside from me? Because I’m sure as hell not in the habit of sharing sensitive personal details with a Lilitu.”
“Okay, so I must have told her.”
“Think back, Hale. Did you tell her? Or did she find out?”
Hale grimaced. “She wouldn’t do that to me.”
Dad leaned in closer, tightening his grip on Hale’s arm. “You’re willing to bet your soul on that?”
“I’m a trained Guardsman, Murphy.” Hale pulled his arm free from Murphy’s grasp. “Nothing’s going on here. Leave it alone.”
Dad stared at Hale, then nodded slowly. “Okay. If you say so.” Dad walked away from Hale then, into the living room. I heard him sigh in frustration, but I was still watching Hale.
After Dad left, Hale turned toward the dining room. He listened to Karayan working in the kitchen for a long moment. When he turned back to the foyer, I could see his face clearly. His earlier playful mood had evaporated. In its place—a deep and growing suspicion.
How is it that a day can seem to last forever, while weeks slip past so quickly that the dawning of a new month takes you completely by surprise? Since the explosion at the mission, the city had been in shocked outrage. Police and reporters had descended on the mission, seeking answers to who could deliberately destroy our local historical treasure. The upside to this was Dad’s “security firm” had been officially hired by the city to oversee the mission, granting the Guard official status to protect the mission. The downside? More kids showed up now than ever before—eager to see the destruction first hand. Guard patrols—in official security guard uniform now—were kept busy chasing curious civilians away.
On top of all the Guard excitement, I still had school to contend with. After all the studying for the AP History test, building a mouse-trap car for my final Physics project, and writing up a major paper on Jane Austen for English, the last days of May burned past.
The first week of June brought with it the last week of my junior year. And that meant finals. Murphy convinced Hale to give Lucas, Amber, and me the week off to focus on our studies. Instead of training after school, Lucas and I piled into my living room with Royal and Cassie to pour over the year’s notes. Royal and Cassie had started prepping for finals weeks ago. Royal shared his homemade flash cards, and Cassie brought some practice quizzes she’d written up.
Even though it seemed strangely dissonant to be so focused on the end of a school year when the end of the
world
could be just around the corner, it was also indescribably comforting to be with my friends, nestled in the warmth of my home as Dad brought us study snacks every few hours.
At the end of our Sunday night session cramming for physics, Cassie stretched, yawning. “I’m pooped. There’s just not enough hours in the day for everything I need to do.”
“I wish they’d hurry up and figure out how to just download information directly into our brains already.” Royal closed his physics book and packed his notes back into his school bag.
I said goodbye to my friends, then spent another hour or so going over my notes. I was tempted to visit Lucas’s dreams for an added boost of energy, but I didn’t want to leave him drained for the next day’s test. So I spent the night in dreamless sleep, waking far too soon to suit my exhausted body.
Cassie, Royal, Lucas, and I met up early before school the next day to run through a few more practice questions, and then it was time for the real thing.
“Good luck, kids,” Mr. Harris said, passing out the exams along with the blue books we’d be using to show our work. When he indicated it was time to start, I flipped my test over and read the first question. A little over two hours later, after checking my work for a third time, I turned in my test.
Mr. Harris gave me a smile. “Have a great summer, Braedyn.”
“Thanks. You too.” I walked out of class and made my way to the cafeteria, feeling strangely light. That was it. No more physics—unless I decided to take some physics classes in college. Provided college was in my future. Provided we
had
a future.
Royal and Cassie found me in the cafeteria.
“How did it go?” Cassie asked.
“Um, actually? I think it went okay,” I said.
“That’s the power of the homemade flash cards, ladies.” Royal leaned back in his chair, grinning.
“English prep tonight?” Lucas asked, joining us.
“You even have to ask?” Royal patted his backpack. “I’ve got the cards prepped and ready to go.”
And that was our finals week. Every night we’d meet up at someone’s house to study. English, then history, then Trigonometry—and even though Cassie was in an upper level Calculus class, she joined us for a few hours to help us prepare. By the time we’d finished our last exam, we were exhausted but triumphant.
We met up on the quad after our last final. Cassie sat beside me, picking at a blade of grass.
“It’s so weird to think back to last year’s finals,” she said. “Back then, I had no idea Lilitu existed. My biggest problem was—” She stopped, dropping her eyes to the shredded grass in her hands. “Was dealing with Parker. So much has changed.”
I looked at her, suddenly seeing her more clearly than I had in a long time. Cassie wasn’t the same girl that Parker had used and tossed aside. She was strong, brave, and more stubborn than I’d ever have thought possible. “That’s an understatement, Cass.”
Cassie met my gaze and seemed to read my thoughts. She blushed and smiled back. I reached over and caught her in a fierce hug. When we parted, I saw a few happy tears lighting the corners of her eyes.
Royal and Lucas looked at one another. “You,” Lucas said, as though Royal were about to make him cry.
“No, you,” Royal echoed, sniffling dramatically. Lucas and Royal threw their arms around each other in an overwrought embrace.
“They mock us,” I said.
“Foolish,” Cassie answered.
As one, Cassie and I tackled the boys in retaliation, finding their ticklish spots and digging our fingers in mercilessly until the boys cried uncle. We sat back, winded and laughing. It was the perfect end to junior year.
There is no rest for the weary—not if the weary are a part of the Guard, at any rate.
By early June, Ian’s list of potential sites for the underground temple had swelled to over 300. As soon as finals were over, Hale assigned Lucas and me to search duty. My first day out, Dad and I headed to the east of Puerto Escondido to check out a small natural cave.
We followed the road as far as we could. When the GPS indicated our destination lay east of the last road, Dad turned off onto a high desert prairie and we followed the signal to the coordinates Ian had given us. The prairie was dotted all over with tufts of native grasses, sagebrush, and Piñon trees. We pulled to a stop at the bottom of a mountain ridge rising out of the prairie. Dad killed the engine and we got out of the car. It was quiet, save the whispering of the wind and the distant
scree
of a hunting hawk. We shrugged into our backpacks, prepared for a long hike. I felt the water sloshing in the bottles I’d packed. Just being out here, so far from a readily available water source, made me feel thirsty. I pushed the sensation to the back of my mind. Better to save the water for later, when we really needed it.
“Pretty,” I said, looking up into the mountains.
“Reminds me of when we used to go camping,” Dad said. He reached out and tousled my hair.
“Dad.” I gave him an irritated smile, running a hand through my hair to smooth it back down.
“You sure have grown since then.” Dad gave me a wistful look.
“You okay?”
“We just haven’t had a lot of time together lately.”
“Tell me about it.” I glanced at the GPS in my hand, then pointed eastward. “Okay. It looks like we need to head that way.”
Dad put a hand on my shoulder, startling me. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, Braedyn.” Dad’s voice grew husky with emotion. “You’ve really grown up these last few months. I’ve noticed a big chance in you since—” Dad hesitated, his eyes clouding with unhappy memory. “Since winter solstice.”
“You have?” I felt a lump form at the base of my throat.
“I’m not the only one. Hale’s noticed it, too. I mean, bringing Amber into the Guard? Dealing so graciously with all of Rhea’s bullshit—”
“Dad, language.” I gave him a level smile.
Dad smiled back. “You’re—you’ve really become a team player.”
I dropped my eyes. “Everything that happened with Seth—I shouldn’t have second-guessed the Guard. It was stupid and dangerous, and I put us all in danger because I had this feeling that—that I could make a difference.”
Dad’s brows drew together. I studied him, surprised at the look of concern in his eyes.
“What’s that look for?”
“I appreciate what you’re saying, but—” Dad sighed. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Just don’t completely ignore your intuition.”
“My intuition’s what got me into trouble last time.”
“No. Seth manipulated you in a way none of us anticipated.” Dad gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t let him make you doubt yourself.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Dad caught me in a big bear hug. I tucked my head tight against his chest, letting him hold me for a moment. Then I pulled back.
“Not to put a damper on the father-daughter bonding thing, but shouldn’t we get going?” I glanced at the mountain before us. “I mean, this is number one on a list of what, 300 more caves we have to check?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Dad smiled and gestured toward the ridge. “I mean, not about the list. That thing’s got at least 400 caves on it now, and Ian keeps adding new ones. Good thing we’ve still got six and a half months before the solstice.”
“Yay.” I sighed, picturing a long summer of us poking our heads into one small cave after another. “Onwards and upwards.” I led the way up into the mountains.
It was a wasted trip. The cave was small enough that we could see the entire thing from ten steps inside. No sloping hallways. No altar. This cave was not the Temple of Lilith. Neither was the next cave we checked, or the one after that. Three caves, all busts. We returned home close to sunset.
Lucas and Gretchen pulled up around the same time we did. They hadn’t had any luck with their search, either.
“Five caves down,” I muttered. “That only leaves 395 to go.”