Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(90)

So now the sword is mine.

I leave the sword where it is. It’s not meant for a simple bounty hunt. It’s too sacred, too bound in power and memories for me to take hunting with Hastiin. But one day, maybe. Until then it stays put.

My shotgun rests on the gun rack next to my bed. It’s a beauty. Double barrel pump-action with a custom grip. I take it from the rack and slide it into my shoulder holster. Adjust it so it sits just right, an easy draw from the left. Glock comes, too. It rides on the hip opposite from my B?ker. I pat it all down, reciting my list of weapons softly to myself, just to make sure everything’s where it’s supposed to be.

Tah catches me as I come out of my bedroom, a mug of Navajo tea in his wrinkled hands. “I thought I heard you in there,” he says cheerfully. “I’m ready to go. Just need to find my hat . . .” He trails off as he sees my weapons.

“Hastiin’s here,” I explain. “Some kind of emergency at Lake Asááyi and he needs backup. But he said he and the Boys’ll help us build your hogan tomorrow. They’ll even do all the heavy lifting.”

Tah’s thin shoulders fall forward in disappointment. For a moment he looks all of his seventy-odd years.

And I know that’s my fault, even before today’s small disappointment.

But Tah straightens, smiles. “Well, tomorrow’s just as good as today. I made some tea. Want to at least take a cup? It’s not coffee . . .” He shakes his head, chuckles a happy laugh. “Remember when my grandson brought me all that coffee?”

“And the sugar, too,” I say. “I remember.”

I smile back, but it’s not much of a smile. In fact, it feels like I’m trying to smile past the broken place in my heart. We haven’t much talked about Black Mesa and what happened with Kai. And he hasn’t asked. But I saw him once, heads together with Hastiin, when he thought I wasn’t listening, and I’m sure the mercenary told him what I did. Well, at least his side of the story anyway. But Tah’s never asked me. Maybe he doesn’t want to know the truth.

“Just you wait, Maggie. He’ll come. Kai will come. And then maybe you’ll quit your moping.”

I look up, surprised. “I thought I was doing okay.”

He shakes his head. “Maybe we’ll both quit our moping.” He folds his hands tight around his mug of tea. Stares out the window at nothing. Or maybe he’s staring all the way across Dinétah to the All-American where his grandson is, alive and well.

Alive and well for over a month and he hasn’t come to us. To me. When I asked Hastiin if he knew why Kai hadn’t come, he said, “Ask him yourself.” But I can’t. I’m too proud, or too scared to push it. If Kai doesn’t want to see me, I have to respect that. Even if I crawl into bed every night to stare at the ceiling and think about him. Even if I stumble out of bed blurry-eyed and restless a handful of hours later still thinking about him. Even if every day starts and ends with the image of him lying dead at my feet. My last and most terrible deed, even worse than betraying my mentor. All of it eating me alive.

“When he’s ready,” Tah says quietly, more to himself than to me. “When Kai is ready, he’ll come to us.”

I want to ask Tah when he thinks that will be, but he doesn’t know any more than I do. So, I check my weapons again, my fingers lingering on the comfort of cold metal, and leave.