Fated (The Soul Seekers #1)(99)
fifty-two
With Raven’s guidance, we find our way back to Wolf. My excitement vanishing when I see him just barely hanging in there.
“Leftfoot did what he could,” Dace says. “But without the soul, he couldn’t do much. Whatever happens next, depends on you. Have you done this before?”
I shake my head. Gnaw the inside of my cheek. All too aware of how big the risk is. Failing at this means losing Paloma—an option I cannot accept.
“Have you?” I turn to him, my voice sounding too small for the stakes I now face.
“No,” he admits. “This is way out of my league.”
“What should I do?” I switch my focus between the orb and Wolf.
“I think you’re supposed to go with your instincts,” Dace says, his voice quiet but sure, and the moment our eyes meet, I’ve no doubt he’s right.
It’s like Paloma said—this is part of my ancestral legacy, my bloodline. The knowledge lives inside me—all I have to do is find a way to discover it.
“Open his mouth,” I say, the words sudden but sure. Remembering how the Richters swallowed the souls—how the souls seemed to survive it without being harmed, including this one. Besides, Wolf would never do anything to intentionally damage it. And who knows, maybe the infusion of energy will help save him too? A quick look at Raven’s purple glimmering eyes confirming I’m on the right track.
“Hurry!” I say, watching as Dace opens Wolf’s jaws, careful to move out of the way as I bring my hands to Wolf’s mouth and ease the soul in. Dace’s arm sliding around me, as we search for some sign of change, some sign of life that wasn’t there earlier. Overcome with relief when Wolf’s ears perk, his eyes open, his tail thumps hard on the ground, and he lets out a long, plaintive howl as he struggles to his feet.
“Can I?” Dace sweeps toward him, ready to lift him, the question so much bigger than it seems on the surface.
He’s asking if I’ll trust him enough to carry this out.
Trust him enough to let him deeper into my life.
Trust him enough to give him my heart.
I close my eyes for a moment, blocking out all that I see with my eyes, in order to see in the dark—see with my heart—it’s what a Seeker does.
Overcome once again with the same impression I had from the start: one of kindness, compassion, and unconditional love—and it’s all directed at me.
I nod my consent. There’s no need to question or push him away.
He’s a pure and beautiful soul—a Whitefeather. That Richter bit is a mere technicality.
With Wolf in his arms, he leads me through the bushes and out to the clearing. Glancing at me when he says, “Since you’re trusting me with this, I’m going to trust you as well. We’re going to return the way I came in. It’s a sacred vortex that leads straight to the reservation. It’ll allow us to reach Paloma much quicker, though you can never tell anyone about its existence.”
I’m quick to agree, watching in fascination as he leads me to an area where the energy feels palpably lighter—where the light shines just a little bit brighter. And the next thing I know, we’re swept away in a whirl of uplifting energy, spinning and swirling until it deposits us in a field of deeply twisted juniper trees.
The same juniper trees I saw on the horseback ride with Chay that caused him to cut the ride short and turn away. I may not have been ready for it then like he claimed, but it seems I am now.
We rush to the small adobe home where Paloma lies dying. The sight of us bursting through the foyer, Wolf in tow, causing Chepi to gasp—clutch her hand to her heart—as Chay sags with relief, and Leftfoot and his apprentice rush us into the room where Paloma lies prone on the bed.
Taking Wolf from Dace, Leftfoot settles the animal next to Paloma, watching as he licks her cheek in a gesture so tender and caring, it stirs Paloma from whatever deep state of unconsciousness she found herself in. Her fingers seeking his muzzle, stroking softly, using the minuscule strength that remains to mutter a long stream of words I can’t comprehend, as Wolf throws his head back and lets out a terrific howl that prickles my skin.
And that’s when I see it.
That’s when I watch as the soul leaves Wolf’s body—hovering for a moment, shiny and bright, before it finds its way back to Paloma where it belongs.
Her cheeks instantly coloring, her lids lifting, gaze seeking mine when she says, “Nieta. Nieta, you did it!” Our shared elation lasting only a second before I realize it’s not at all like she thinks.
“No, abuela,” I whisper, my lips close to her ear, not wanting Dace or Chepi to hear. “I didn’t. I only managed to save you and a few other souls—lots of souls actually—and believe it or not, it was the Bone Keeper who helped me. Still, despite my efforts, there are many who were lost. I’m so sorry—I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bear to lose you. Couldn’t do what you asked. And though I tried to stop them, I failed.”
Paloma’s eyes meet mine, brimming with compassion, though her lips tell another story, turned pale with worry. “And how did you find her, nieta—the Bone Keeper?”
“Raven led me.” I smile. “With a little help from Horse and Dace.”
At the mention of his name, her gaze switches to the place where Dace stands at the far wall with Chepi. Studying him closely, her attention claimed for so long, I’m just about to speak, when she returns to me and says, “Now that you have found each other, it is time for you to realize your destinies. It’s all in motion, there is no going back. The raven heralds the prophecy, and the prophecy is here. You two are fated, nieta.”