The Spirit Keeper (10 page)

Meg tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and licked her lips. “By the following afternoon, the storm had cleared. And then Melody, by some miracle, showed up. She looked . . . I don’t know.
Different.
Her eyes were wild, and there was a flush to her cheeks that had nothing at all to do with the cold. She refused to talk about what had happened to her, or even where she’d been. Then some months later, it became all too obvious.”

Meg met my eyes with an intensity that left no doubt as to what she was implying. “My mother was pregnant with me,” I said.

Tears had begun to leak from the corners of Meg’s eyes. “She wouldn’t give us his name. She said she loved him and that she would never betray him. She only said that he hadn’t hurt her and that he loved her, too. They were going to be together one day. The three of you.

“Then many months later a white wolf appeared on the reservation. It was just after twilight. No one had ever seen a wolf on Katori land before then, and they were all understandably frightened. We knew the legends, the stories that had been passed down from generation to generation. And yet, there was a sense of incredulity, as though some wondered if the curse could really be true.

“There was one man, Victor Hunt, who wanted to kill the wolf. But your mother threw her body on the animal and screamed for no harm to come to it, that she loved
him
. Only then did we realize who your father was.”

My heart seized in my chest, as though it had suddenly stopped beating. I shook my head—slowly at first, and then more adamantly. They’d told me little about my birth father; only that he’d abandoned my mother and me before I was born. But what Meg was saying now was so much worse. How could it be true? How could it even be
possible?

“No. You’re lying,” I said.

But Meg went on as though I’d not spoken at all. “Victor shoved your mother away from the wolf, saying that she had allowed Evil into the tribe and deserved to be punished for it.

“Things quickly got out of control. The wolf went after Victor and had him cornered, but then Victor’s wife, Aida, shot at the animal. Turns out it was a nothing more than a child’s BB gun she’d grabbed out of the hands of some little boy. I think she only meant to scare it back into the woods. She didn’t have a violent bone in her body. But the wolf turned on her and attacked, fatally wounding her before escaping.”

“You’re lying,” I said again.

“I’m telling you the truth,” Meg said, though the look on her face revealed how much she wished it wasn’t so.

“A week later the Council gave Melody two choices: either she could give up the baby once it was born and let it be brought up outside the reservation, or she could leave that day and never return. In their eyes, you were not a child of our tribe. You were an abomination. They believed the same evil that ran through the wolf-man’s veins ran through yours.”

I sprang to my feet. “But that’s insane! Asking a woman to give up her baby or leave the only home she’s ever known because they think her child is evil is just ridiculous. I’m just a girl. I’m just . . .
me!
”

Meg splayed her hands. “It’s unthinkable. I know. But you have to understand the Katori people are ingrained to believe the descendants of Ka-mut are inherently evil. You were an anomaly to them—a child of both Good and Evil—and they were willing to do whatever it took to protect themselves against even a perceived threat.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself tightly against the nonsense that Meg was spouting. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe any of this!”

“It’s not for you to believe or disbelieve, or even to question. It is for you to accept as truth for the simple fact
that’s what it is
. It’s what happened, Sarah. I was there!”

“Then you’re just as crazy as they are! How can you blindly accept something so, so . . .
stupid?
”

“Stupid” wasn’t exactly the word I was looking for, but I was too angry to clearly articulate how I was feeling at that moment.

“Our entire family left,” Meg said more quietly, after a moment of awkward silence. “We left with a lingering doubt that our voluntary exile would be enough. A woman
died
because of your mother’s carelessness, Sarah, and because of what she allowed to happen.”

“No! She didn’t kill anyone. It wasn’t her fault.”

But Meg went on. “Despite our worry, we never heard from the tribe again. We grew comfortable in the safety of our new home and way of life. And your mother . . .” At that point, her voice cracked. “Well, Melody was the best mom a kid could ever hope for. She loved you so much. But then everything changed again.”

“Because of the fire,” I said. Our eyes met, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

Meg wiped her damp cheeks and sat on the edge of the bed. She met my eyes, a haunted expression on her face. “I think someone from the tribe set that fire.”

“What? You can’t be serious.” But based on what I’d already heard, I
could
believe it. That didn’t mean I wanted to.

 “David and I never told anyone, but we have our suspicions.”

“But the fire was ruled an accident,” I protested.

Meg shook her head. “Victor’s wife, Aida—she had the elemental magic. She was called the tribe’s Spirit Keeper, because it’s Katori’s spirit that lived in her, and all the women like her.

“Before she died,” Meg went on, “she passed that magic on to her infant daughter, Shyla. She was just a baby at the time, though. Aida should
never
have made her the tribe’s new Spirit Keeper. It was too much responsibility for such a young girl. The power should have been passed on to someone better capable of understanding and controlling it.”

My mind raced as I tried to grasp what I thought Meg was saying. “Are you telling me you think it was this girl Shyla who set our house on fire?”

I quickly did the math in my head. “Eleven years had gone by from the time you all left the reservation until my mom and grandparents were killed. Shyla would have been just a kid, no more than twelve or so herself. How could a
kid
commit arson and murder?”

“Shyla might have been too young to be motivated by personal revenge,” Meg said, “but I can think of someone else who had a reason. Can’t you?”

It didn’t take me long to come up with the answer to that one. “Shyla’s father. Aida’s husband.”

“Victor,” Meg said, nodding.

“But how?”

“Even if he didn’t set the fire himself, he had the perfect weapon in his hands, a weapon that would leave absolutely no evidence behind, except for ashes. And that perfect weapon was his own daughter and the magic that she possessed. She was the Spirit Keeper, Sarah. She could wield fire.”

My entire world had shifted out of alignment with the revelation of our family secret. I closed my eyes. My brain felt heavy as a waterlogged sponge, and I wished I could wring it out and forget everything that Meg had told me in the last half hour.

“David and I have just one request of you,” Meg said, her voice low and urgent. I opened my eyes and looked at her, waiting. “Stay away from Victor Hunt, and stay away from his children. Don’t go anywhere near them.”

I laughed then, relief running through me. “Um, okay. I don’t think staying away from them will be a problem, considering I have no idea who or where they are.”

Meg got up from the bed and went to the window again, pulling back the curtain to look out. “It might be a problem, especially since Victor Hunt and his son just moved in across the street.”

“What did you just say?”

I was sure I’d misunderstood Meg, and yet I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before. What were the chances of another Native American family moving into the vacant house across the street? They had come here for a reason, and I was afraid what that reason might be.

“Victor Hunt is
here
,” she repeated.

I sat in stunned silence, a slow dread creeping over me and making my scalp tingle. But then I laughed, common sense winning out.

“You must be mistaken, Meg. How can you be sure it’s even them? It’s been, what, over seventeen years since you lived on the reservation?”

Meg nodded as though anticipating I might make this very argument. “After you and Priscilla came home and told us that the family was from a reservation up north, that there was a boy named Adrian about your age, I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. David checked it out last night and confirmed what we thought. He was able to get a look inside a window, and he saw Victor.”

“That Peeping Tom,” I said under my breath. “He told me he was out jogging.” Then something else occurred to me. “You said Victor has a daughter named Shyla. As far as I know, it’s just Adrian.”

“Shyla and Adrian are twins,” Meg said. “They’d be about eighteen by now. Even if you didn’t see Shyla, we’re sure it’s them.”

“But I only saw Adrian,” I insisted again, as if repeating it would negate the possibility that he had a sibling. “He never mentioned anything about having a sister, much less a twin.”

Meg waved her hand impatiently. “It doesn’t matter, Sarah. Just stay away from them, okay? I hesitate to come outright and accuse them of setting the fire, and I certainly don’t want to start trouble, but they could be extremely dangerous. Let’s mind our own business until we figure out what’s going on.”

I suddenly remembered the girl in the woods. Had that been Shyla? And if so, where was she now? I didn’t tell Meg about seeing her. She was even more unnerved than I, and I didn’t want to add to her worry. I also didn’t mention that Adrian had followed me to the creek earlier that afternoon, or that we’d been flirting. Under the circumstances, I thought I’d best keep my mouth shut.  

“Listen,” Meg said, “I’m very sorry we didn’t tell you any of this before. We shouldn’t have waited until our hand was forced. I guess we hoped we’d never have to speak of it.”

“It’s okay,” came my automatic response.

But what else was I supposed to say? My insides were twisted with all these conflicting emotions: fear, anger, and confusion most of all. Adrian didn’t seem the least bit dangerous to me. I really liked him, in fact. But now Meg was telling me I couldn’t see him. As for his dad . . . well, she had a point there.

“I’d like to be alone,” I said.

Meg’s face was the picture of guilt, but she reached out to touch my shoulder. “I really am sorry, Sarah. I hope you will forgive us for keeping this secret.”

She left then, closing the door behind her. I sat on the edge of my bed for a minute longer—just thinking—before I finally got up to shed my damp clothes for dry ones. And although it was the middle of the afternoon, I yanked back the covers of my bed and climbed in, if only to be cocooned in comfort and safety.

I concentrated on the sound and rhythm of my breathing for several minutes until my eyelids drooped and finally shut. But even then, disturbing images of savage men, ferocious wolves attacking innocent people . . . and my mother, hugely pregnant with me . . . flickered through my head. Turning over on my side, I drew my knees to my chest and fell into a restless sleep.

I woke with a jolt sometime later, unable at first to recall where I was. The blanket over my head didn’t help.

I leapt from the bed with the smell of smoke strong in my nose and the pulse in my neck throbbing underneath my skin. I stumbled to the window on shaky legs, frantic to escape. It was only then that I came fully awake and realized I’d been dreaming of the blaze that killed my mother and grandparents six years prior.

Bits and pieces of the dream started to come back as the fog began to lift. They were replicated memories that played over and again in my mind, never changing and always ending the same way.

I scrubbed my face with my hands and took a deep breath, desperate to forget. And then I heard it: the chime of the doorbell. It was probably what had woken me in the first place.