Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(63)

“What do you see?”

My eyes flutter open and I look around, uncertain, until he touches my shoulder and gently turns me to face the old hotel. Except now it reads in great sparkling letters: THE SHALIMAR INDIAN TRADING POST AND DANCE HALL

“How have I never known this was here?” I whisper, awed at the metamorphosis.

“Spend much time in Tse Bonito?”

“I hate this place. I only come here when I’m forced to.”

Kai chuckles. “I found the Shalimar the first night I was here.”

“Yeah, how is that?”

He shrugs. “I like people, unlike you, and it’s a meeting place of sorts. When I first got here, I was bored. Lonely. Figured I’d get to know the locals. No harm in that.”

“Don’t tell me,” I say, giving him my serious face. “They serve champagne.”

He laughs. With a small thrill I realize I’m starting to rely on that laugh.

His breath hitches for a second before he says, “I know you never gave me an answer on that ‘being friends’ thing, but after everything that’s happened . . . ?” He leaves it hanging.

I grin. “Don’t push your luck, Rabbit.”

He groans. “Please don’t.”

“What? I heard boys love nicknames. Makes them feel special.”

“?‘Rabbit’ does not make me feel special. It makes me feel the opposite of special.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like it.”

Shaking his head in mock despair, he offers me his arm. I don’t take it, preferring to keep one hand near my gun and the other free. But I do hold the door open for him, and we walk into the Shalimar together.





Chapter 28


The first thing that hits me is the noise. Dance music thumps in my ears, the heavy bass drum sending vibrations through the soles of my feet. My hand strays nervously to the B?ker. If someone wants to sneak up on us in here, I’ll never hear them coming.

We stand at the top of a long expansive stairway that stretches down at least two dozen wide stone steps before disappearing into a hazy underworld. Lights pulse through the clouds of fog below—pink, violet, burgundy, and purple.

“You have got to be kidding me. A dance club in the middle of the freakin’ reservation?”

“What?” Kai shouts.

I shake my head. When I saw the sign outside that read DANCE HALL, I pictured something more like Grace’s All-American. Two-stepping to Hank Williams and Loretta Lynn. This place is not that. The dissonance is overwhelming.

“ID?” someone to my right asks.

I turn, hand on the hilt of my knife, before I realize I’m being carded. A young man sits on a lone barstool, staring at me expectantly. He’s Diné, fairly nondescript in his sagging pants and oversize canvas jacket, except for one thing. His ears. He’s wearing some kind of prosthetic over his ears that makes them curve gracefully up to rise past his hairline and meet in a fine point.

I tear my eyes away from his ears long enough to notice he’s holding a clipboard. “Do we have to be on some kind of list to get in?”

Kai nudges me. “Introduce yourself,” he whisper-shouts in my ear.

“What?”

“Navajo way. Tell him your clans, just the first two is enough. That’s how you get in.”

I do what he says. “I am called Magdalena Hoskie. I am of the Living Arrow clan. I was born for the Walks-Around clan. In this way am I Diné.”

The big-eared kid makes a notation on his clipboard and then grunts, satisfied, and turns to Kai. He rattles off his introduction, bending in low so I can’t quite hear. The doorkeeper dutifully writes Kai’s clans down too, then motions us down the stairs.

I stay where I am. “We’re looking for someone named Mósí. Do you know her?”

The doorman jumps like he’s not used to being addressed directly. Stares at me stupidly.

“She’s expecting us,” I say. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s worth a shot.

Now he’s really looking confused. He licks his lips, and his eyes stray to my weapons. “No one gets to see Mósí tonight,” he says, his voice a high nervous squeak. “That’s orders.”

“It’s important,” I insist.

“No one,” he shrills, eyes scurrying between Kai and me before he latches onto Kai, begging. “Even the high rollers!”

Kai’s been quiet, watching us, but now he touches my arm. “Come on, Maggie,” he says. “He can’t help us.”

“But he knows—” I start. And I’m talking to air because Kai’s halfway down the stairs. I hurry after him. “Why didn’t you let me push that guy a little? I could have gotten him to let us in to see Mósí.”

He throws a quick glance over his shoulder, and then his mouth is next to my ear and he whispers, barely making a sound. “The guy at the door? Jaa’yaalóolii Dine’é—Sticking-Up-Ears People.”

“His clan? Is that why he’s wearing the ear things?” I gesture to my own ears.

“He’s not wearing anything. Those are his ears. They also have excellent hearing,” he continues, “and rumor is, they can tell the difference between lies and the truth. Assume somebody is listening to everything we say from here on out. I know they’re definitely watching us. If Coyote’s associate is expecting us, she’ll know we are here. Trust me.”