River Marked (Mercy Thompson #6)(73)

MacKenzie Hepner was eight years old as of four days ago. She was supposed to be in the tent with her little brother, but something had woken her up. She hitched up her nightgown and waded in the cold water. On her arm she could see the mark that that weed had left when she went swimming too far out in the river, and her stepdad had to swim out and rescue her. It made her reconsider how she felt about her stepdad. He hadn't even yelled at her, just hugged her. It took her a while to figure out he was scared, too . . .

Do you see what I want you to see, Mercedes?

My breath started coming in panicked gulps. I hadn't been just dreaming about the ill-fated Janice and her family. The river devil had fed me the details afterward. Maybe that hadn't been on purpose. Maybe. But they had been real, and this eight-year-old named MacKenzie was real, too.

I hid my forehead against Adam and told him what was happening, giving him the words when she gave words to me, describing the rest. He whined unhappily. Gesture to me if you see what I want you to see. Did you see her?

Evidently, she couldn't read my thoughts. Like Bran, she could only shove things at me.

MacKenzie's feet were numb, and the rocks made the bottoms hurt. She shouldn't be out here in the river in the dark. She knew it was against the rules--

I waved my hand weakly. I didn't want to know any more about a child who was going to walk into the river and get eaten.

I will let her live.

"She says she'll let the child live," I told Adam.

He got it, I think, before I did, because he lunged up and snarled at her--at me, then bumped me with a hip in a clear order to go back to the trailer.

I felt her laughter. She'd seen Adam's reaction. She knew I'd heard her.

Bargain. A bargain. A bargain. You for her. You come die tonight, and I will let the little girl and her little brother live.

Adam planted himself between me and the river devil.

"She offers a bargain," I told him. "Me for the little girl--and apparently her brother. If I die, they won't."

Adam looked at me, his heart in his eyes.

"She's eight," I told him. "Just. Yesterday her stepfather proved that he might be okay. She's willing to give him a chance. She has a younger brother that she could go get and bring with her." I swallowed. "What would you do, Adam? Would you die so that little girl could live?"

I knew the answer--and from his body language, so did he. Then he looked at the monster out in the water and back to me with a flicker of his ears. He couldn't do it because she didn't want him. I couldn't do it, either. No matter how much I wanted to. Without me, Coyote's plan wouldn't work.

"Would she lie?" I said, while the river devil chanted her promises in my head. "I'm worth more to her than the child, I think. She knows about Coyote and his interest in me, and it worries her. But after I'm dead? Would she keep her word? Who would know?"

"She would keep her word." Coyote came up to stand beside Adam. "I can't let you do it, anyway."

"I know. Your sisters made it clear that you need me."

Adam whined again.

"I'll tell you about them," I promised. I'd forgotten to let him know what had happened; we'd both been tired.

Choose, Mercedes.

"For an ancient evil, she speaks awfully good English," I said.

"She's been eating English-speaking people." Coyote sat next to me.

"Can you hear her?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. She can't mark me."

"Could you save her?" I asked Coyote. "Could you save that little girl? Didn't you carve the way for the waters to flow and move mountains? Raven hung the stars."

"That was a long time ago, under the Great Spirit's direction," he said, sounding sad. "I'm on my own here."

"Why doesn't the Great Spirit take care of this?"

"Why should He?" Coyote asked. "All that is mortal dies. Death is not such a bad thing. What would be a bad thing would be living without challenges. Without knowing defeat, we cannot know what victory is. There is no life without death."

"I like my god better than I like yours," I told him.

"Don't you know, child? He is one and the same." Coyote watched the river devil wait for my response. "The Great Spirit has given us our wits and our courage. He sends helpers and counsel. He sent me to you, didn't he? I talked to my sisters tonight. It was a good thing."

"Can you save this girl?"

"Do you know where she is?"

"A campground near the river," I said. But was it a campground? There were a lot of places you could just go camping. "No." "Then no."

"Damn it," I said.

You or they die. Bargain. You die, they live.

"Is there anyone else who could take my role?" I asked.

"None that I know of. I was surprised that you were not controlled by her mark. You are the only creature who is wholly of this realm that I have seen resist her."

"If I weren't here, what would you do?"

He sighed. "One of us would take your place. But there are only seven of us who can or will help. I believe that a time will come when the Great Spirit will send us back out into the world again, entrusted with tasks to accomplish. But many of us were hurt when the Europeans swept through here. Disease took so many of our children, then the vampires singled out those who managed to survive and brought more death upon them . . ." He sighed. "We were allowed to retreat and lick our wounds--and for many it will take the Great Spirit to pry them out of their safe dens." He scuffed his bare foot on the ground, rolling a rock a dozen feet. "I won't lie. We may not have enough to do what we need, even with you. Without you?" He shook his head.