The Soul Seekers: Horizon (9 page)

My ancestors are here.

I’m not alone.

Never was.

Although they don’t materialize before me, their presence is made known in the glorious chorus that fills up the sky.

Instinctively, I sway from side to side, gripped by a celestial melody I’m sure only I can hear. But when Kachina snorts and whinnies, when she tips her nose and perks her ears, I know she
hears it just as clearly as I do.

It’s a symphony of leaves chimed by Wind, accompanied by Raven’s sweet song. And, if I’m not mistaken, I can even detect the low vibrato of Paloma’s treasured drum.

A sacred instrument, she referred to as a Spirit Horse. Its music akin to a heartbeat, its tempo said to open the portals that lead to the otherworlds.

There is nothing to fear
, she told me then, just as she’s telling me now.

This symphony of nature is a message from my
abuela
. Of that, I am sure
.
A sort of opus from the natural world, telling me it’s time to rid myself of doubt. Time to trust
in the wisdom of my ancestral bloodline. And I’m not one bit surprised Paloma chose to communicate in this way.

With that glorious chorus swirling within me, I leap onto Kachina’s back and race toward home. Only to find a large white box tied with a ribbon as bright and crimson as freshly drawn
blood, waiting for me on the stoop.

Dace! He must’ve left a present to distract me from the dream.

I rush toward it, drop to my knees, and go about removing the ribbon and tipping the lid. Only to release a deluge of bright red squares of packing confetti that spill at my feet.

I plunge my hands in, fingers digging deep. Until they butt up against something silky and cold, unyielding and stiff, that I ease free of the box and hold up before me.

A raven.

A dead raven, to be exact.

Its unseeing eyes marred with precisely placed globs of purple paint intended to mimic those of the raven who guides me.

His neck snapped cleanly in half.

His head crudely twisted so that it points the wrong way.

With a square of creamy white paper crammed in his beak.

I take a cursory look all around, checking for signs of Cade’s presence, but other than the coyote tracks left in the finely milled gravel lining the walkway, it seems he’s long
gone.

Grasping the paper with the tips of my fingers, I look past the masked coyote with blazing red eyes embossed on the front, and unfold the card to find an invite to the Rabbit Hole’s
Masquerade Ball.

“Well, Cade’s never been known for his subtlety, that’s for sure.” Lita leans back against the couch cushions and scowls. “Or his originality, for
that matter. A masquerade black-and-white ball? Please.”

“I thought calling it the Resurrection Ball was kind of clever,” Xotichl says. “You know, the building’s resurrecting, they’re resurrecting . . .”

“How can you be sure it’s from Cade?” Axel cuts in, his gaze moving among us. “No one’s seen him in months.”

“Well, if not Cade, then it’s definitely from one of the other Richters.” I glare at the invitation propped on the table before me, and curl my feet up under my legs.
“Doesn’t matter who delivered it, Coyote was here, and he left a direct challenge to me, to Dace, to all of us. But the worst part is . . .” I focus on my fingers twisting in my
lap. Struggling to find the right way to tell my friends that the house is no longer a sanctuary, no longer a safe place to hide, in a way that doesn’t leave them terrified.

“There’s a worse part?” Lita gathers her hair off her neck and fans herself with her hand. “Well, go on then, let’s hear it.”

Deciding to just state it like it is, I say, “Finding that dead raven on the stoop means the protection spell is no longer working.”

Lita’s eyes bulge. Axel squints. Auden pulls Xotichl closer, while Xotichl’s expression turns to dread.

“Not long after I arrived in Enchantment, Paloma assured me the property was protected. Claimed I had nothing to fear as long as I stayed within the surrounding walls. But now, after
this”—I jab a thumb toward the invite—“it’s clear that no longer holds.”

“But we’ve been so good!” Lita cries. “We’ve maintained the salt border by pouring a fresh coat every day. And just last week, Axel fixed a weak spot on the coyote
fence when he saw one of its supports was coming loose, causing it to sag against the adobe wall.”

Axel nods to confirm it, as Xotichl adds, “And every time I come over, which is pretty much every day, I reinforce the protection spell in the way Paloma showed me.”

“And yet, despite all our efforts, Coyote still managed to breach.” I shrug. Determined to state the facts with as little drama as possible. “It’s no longer safe for you
here. What you choose to do about that is for you to decide.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lita lets go of her hair, allowing it to spill over her shoulders in gorgeous, white-tipped waves.

“It means that things are about to get serious. Things are about to escalate. And while I’ll do my best to protect you, I think the Richters have just taken the first step toward
showing me the depths of my limits.”

I return my focus to my friends. Watching as Xotichl keeps a wary gaze on the box, while seeking comfort in Auden’s nearness. What a shame that after all the time they’ve spent
apart, he returns to Enchantment just in time for another round of Coyote versus Raven.

“Everyone has limits,” Xotichl says. “We just have to discover theirs.” She prods her new glasses up the delicate bridge of her nose. And when her eyes meet mine, I
can’t help but grin. Despite the dire circumstance we find ourselves in, I’m grateful that her sight has returned. Gives us one positive thing to cling to in the midst of a heaping pile
of awful.

I glance at Dace beside me, wondering what he’s thinking behind that clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. But he remains as he is, quiet and somber with his focus turned inward, lost in a
thought I can’t even fathom.

“Okay, so here’s what we know for sure.” Lita moves from the couch to the fan, seeking relief from the unbearable heat. “The Richters are back in business, both literally
and figuratively. Question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“We’re going to rise to the challenge.” I look upon my small group of friends, my voice as determined as my gaze.

“Meaning?” Axel looks at me; he’s the only one in the room who isn’t wilting in the heat, and I can’t help but feel envious.

“It’s like Xotichl said, everyone has limits, no one’s invincible. Heck, even Superman had kryptonite. We just have to discover the Richters’ weakness.”

They all look at me. Well, everyone but Dace who continues to dwell in a faraway place.

“We need to be on high alert. We can’t afford to slack off or get lazy. If nothing else, this invite is a clear warning that the honeymoon is officially over. It’s a direct
challenge if I’ve ever seen one.”

“And, so what do we do about it? Other than being on high alert, and all?”

“You can start by not blocking the fan.” Auden motions impatiently. “C’mon, Lita, share the breeze. Flower and I are dying over here.”

Lita slinks back to Axel’s side, as I say, “For starters, we’re going to the masquerade.” I lift my glass of iced ginger tea and press it to my forehead and cheeks,
transferring the sweat from the glass to mix with the sweat on my skin.

“That’s it? We just fix our hair, change our clothes, slap on a mask, and head out—or do we have some kind of plan?” Lita’s voice is less sarcastic than her words
might imply.

“I don’t have a plan. Or, at least not yet.” I sink deeper into the cushions, ashamed to admit I’m as clueless as they are. Still, lying won’t do any good.

“Okay, so let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan,” Lita says. “You don’t have to go this alone, you know. We may not be Seekers, but I’m sure we
can help.” She echoes her earlier lecture. “For starters, who’s the entertainment? Auden, are you playing the event?”

Auden looks up from his cell. His face shading with embarrassment at being caught texting again. “Sorry,” he says. “Just trying to arrange a meeting with Luther to sign some
contracts.”

“Well, while you have him, ask if he can try to squeeze you into the lineup,” Lita says.

Auden looks uncertain. “I think Epitaph’s scheduled to play.”

“So, make it a reunion, then.” Lita makes an impatient face.

“They were pretty pissed when I left. I doubt they’ll want to see me . . .” Auden flips the phone in his hand.

“Don’t be so sure.” Xotichl sneaks closer, whispers into his ear. And, unable to resist her, it’s only a second later when Auden starts thumb-typing again.

A few moments later, he says, “Well, Luther’s not happy, but he said he’ll do what he can.”

“Good.” Lita nods. “So hopefully we’ll have someone to cover the stage. Dace—what about getting your old job back? Any chance of that?”

I turn to Dace, wondering what’s going on with him. He got here much later than anticipated, and he’s barely said a word ever since.

“Leandro offered.” He shrugs, rubs a hand over his chin. “But that was before Phyre blew up the place. For all I know, he blames me.”

“Doubtful. Didn’t you pull Cade to safety? I’m sure Leandro’s aware of that.”

“We didn’t do it to save Cade.” I’m quick to defend our actions, even though there’s no need. My friends are well aware of the mystical connection that binds the
twins’ lives.

“The reason doesn’t matter. Fact is, Cade’s alive because of you.”

“Yeah, and he left a dead raven as a thank you.” I shake my head.

“Kind of like when a cat leaves a dead mouse as a gift for its owner,” Xotichl says, prompting us to laugh, though the moment’s short-lived.

“Still, might be worth a try,” Auden says. “Maybe you can head over. Grovel a bit. Appeal to his ego. It would be good to have someone on the inside.”

I study Dace’s expression, but he keeps it so carefully guarded it’s impossible to read.

“What the hell.” Dace’s gaze briefly meets mine. “The gas station’s no longer an option. Not after today.” I lean closer, willing him to elaborate, but he
just breezes right past it. “And there’s no doubt I could use the money. Maybe he’ll even give me an advance so I can cover my rent. That is, if I grovel enough.” He
exchanges a quick look with Auden. “So yeah. Fine. Worth a try, right?”

“Okay,” Xotichl says. “So now that we’ve got two possible insiders, what about the rest of us? Do we pose as normal, clueless partygoers? Or do we go in with an agenda?
Or both?”

“Too bad Axel’s not still invisible,” Auden says. “That might’ve helped.”

“Doubtful,” I say. “For some inexplicable reason, Cade was able to see Axel that night just after he stabbed me and Axel appeared to take me to the Upperworld.”

“That was a glitch I still can’t explain.” Axel looks truly perplexed. “I used to be quite adept at light-bending.” Fielding Auden’s blank look, he explains,
“I could will myself to be unseen even by those meant to see me. I was one of the few who could do such a thing. Though it was highly frowned upon.”

“Rebel.” Lita grins, nudges his side. Causing Axel to beam.

“Anyway,” I say, hoping to get this conversation back on track. “While we may not have the details just yet, I think we need to be ready for anything since clearly
they’re up to something more than just a reopening.” I go on to tell them about seeing Marliz vanish inside and the pile of glimmering dust she left in her wake.

“Glimmering dust?” Axel looks at me, brows drawn tightly together.

I nod toward the hat I left on the counter. So much has happened, I forgot all about it until now. Within a matter of seconds Axel has glided seamlessly from the couch to the kitchen then back
to Lita’s side where he peers into the cap, dips a single finger inside, then looks at me and says, “Onyx. Black onyx to be exact.”

“Okay . . . anyone mind cluing me in? I’m a little lost here.” Lita looks from me to him.

“They must be using it to enhance the building. It’s impossible to get a good look at it what with all the barriers they’ve set up around it. But that”—I nod toward
the cap now placed on Axel’s lap—“it’s definitely not your usual construction material, which means they’re building a bigger, better, more powerful Rabbit
Hole.”

“By using black onyx they’ll add immense power and strength,” Axel says. “Not only will onyx provide support and staying power, it’ll increase the energetic
vibration as well as retain the memory of all that went before.”

“So . . . what you’re really saying is that we’re doomed to bad food and watered-down drinks forever?” Lita grins, trying to add a bit of levity to a room gone suddenly
somber. But it’s only a moment later when her smile fades and she settles into the grim reality that awaits us.

“They’re ensuring that the memory and strength of the Richter ancestry, along with the legacy of their magick and power, stays forever retained in those walls,” Axel says, and
when his eyes meet mine, he looks as worried as I am.