But there was a new resident, too. Hanging from the light fixture in the center of the room was the dead girl, her sun-kissed waves dragging across the gleaming hardwood floor in a slow, circular pattern.
I walked past her, keeping my eyes trained on the wall in front of me. Rhys couldn’t know she was with us or he’d bolt out of the house screaming.
“This was Mom’s room,” I said as I browsed through her things. Achievement ribbons decorated the walls—swimming, archery, and something called double ball. This was a part of her life I thought I’d never get to see. “It’s strange thinking about her as a teenager.”
“Don’t touch anything. We shouldn’t even be here.”
I smoothed my hand over her brass bed, the worn patchwork quilt. “She was our age when she got pregnant with us and left Quivira. Can you imagine?”
“You can cut the act now.” Rhys stood in the doorway, clutching the bags as he looked toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to make sure Henry isn’t coming back to check on us. If we—” He tilted his head, listening closely, and then lowered his voice. “If we keep running in the same direction, we’ll make it out of the corn eventually. Do you remember anything about celestial navigation?”
“Rhys . . .” I took a shaky step toward him. I wanted to tell him about the corn, I truly did, but I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face when he found out we were trapped. He’d blame me for bringing him here . . . for everything. I just needed to buy some time, keep him calm, until I figured something out. “I think we should stay.”
A deep crease settled between his brows. “Are you scared of Coronado and the Arcanum? Because it’s like the boogeyman, Ash—it doesn’t exist. This is the kind of thing they tell people so they won’t leave. Cult playbook one-oh-one.”
I gathered the sides of my dress in my sweaty palms. “It’s more than that.”
“Are you talking about Betsy?” He tightened his grip on the bags.
“That’s not a natural death . . . People don’t die like that.”
“Exactly.” He nodded emphatically. “That’s why we need to get the police . . . get some medical personnel out here. These people are stuck in the dark ages.”
The air felt heavy, like I could hardly move, guilt gnawing at my insides. “After everything that’s happened, everything you’ve seen, you still don’t believe in any of this, do you?”
Rhys pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath through his nose. “These people think they’re going to become immortal.” He tried to keep his voice low and even, but I could tell he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “Even if Katia’s real, how could she do that? They’re delusional, Ash. And I don’t want to be here when they figure out they’ve been had.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if all this is real? And aren’t you the slightest bit curious about our dad?”
“I’m curious about the Loch Ness Monster, too, but you don’t see me going to Scotland with a harpoon!” He peered down the hall again, then lowered his voice. “Of course I’m curious about Dad, but where has he been if he wasn’t here in Quivira? Why hasn’t he tried to find us? Why didn’t Mom try to find him? Something’s not right.”
“Maybe he’s been with Aiyana all this time, waiting for Mom.” I swallowed hard. “I just need a little time,” I said as I stared past the dead girl, out the window.
I felt him glaring a hole into the side of my head. “Something’s going on that you’re not telling me. I can tell. I don’t know what’s happening, but the Ash I know would never run around in that creepy dress and get all crazy over some guy. And what’s with that weird black ribbon?”
I pulled the strand from my neck. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I secured the ribbon tight around my wrist.
“‘Sorry’?” He shook his head in dismay. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?” After a few agonizing seconds, he dumped the briefcase and my backpack to the floor. “I guess I’ll have to do this by myself, then,” he said as he hoisted the duffel onto his shoulder.
“Three days.” I got the words out before he could take a step out the door.
The sheer panic in my voice must’ve given him pause. His shoulders slumped as he turned around to face me.
“That will still give us plenty of time before the summer solstice . . . to get help.”
“Why?” he asked. “Give me one good reason why we should risk it.”
“This is going to sound crazy.”
“Believe me”—he cracked an uneasy smile as he stepped toward me—“nothing would sound crazy to me right now.”
I took his hands. “I had a vision of Mom and Dad. I saw them walk the corn seventeen years ago. Katia cut into the palm of Mom’s hand and said, ‘A vessel at last.’”