“I know it sounds crazy.” I shook my head and laughed.
Dane was probably only adjusting his grip, but it felt as if he were caressing his thumb against my palm. “Would you want to live forever, Ashlyn?”
“God, no,” I blurted. “I’ve had a hard enough time dealing with the life I’ve got.”
Dane let out an unexpected laugh. Just like he had when we’d first met at the junkyard.
“But maybe with the right person?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. Maybe it’s the rye . . . or this place,” I said, staring up at the stars. “Quivira really is a utopia.”
The muscles in Dane’s hand tensed. “It’s not as perfect as you think.”
I thought about what I saw at the Mendoza lodge today and my buzz quickly faded. “Why didn’t you tell me your mom’s a conduit?”
“Teresa didn’t raise me. The Mendozas did. Spencer built her a cottage on the outskirts of the eastern woods. I’m not even sure she knows I’m her son. Spencer said she used to walk the corn, like me, before she—well, before the conduit side of her took over.”
Before she went crazy, he meant.
As the lights from the outside world came into view, the odor of our surroundings did too—sweet, pungent, and on the verge of being sickening. It smelled like stale soda syrup mixed with ammonia. The ground became softer and squishier with every step.
“Are we close to the sacred circle?” I asked. It seemed like we’d been walking for miles.
“Almost.” He nearly swallowed the word.
“What’s inside the chasm?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He strained his head to see what was ahead.
“You’ve never looked inside?”
“I’m not allowed inside the sacred circle.”
I smiled. “You don’t exactly strike me as a rule follower.”
“My blood won’t allow me to enter the circle. Don’t forget, I have Coronado’s blood inside me.”
It killed me the way he said it, eyes downcast like he was ashamed.
I stopped walking, pulling him to a halt. But still, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Closing the gap between us, I laced my other hand through his. “I told you. I don’t care about that. We are not our ancestors.”
He looked up at me, eyes blazing. I felt his warm breath pulsing against my cheek, sending sparks of raw electricity across my skin.
The sound of voices in the distance pulled me from the moment. “Do you hear that?”
Without a word, Dane turned and started pulling me back toward Quivira.
Beyond the voices was a strange chittering sound.
“Wait.” I tugged against him. “I thought the circle was this way.”
“I made a mistake,” he murmured.
“I don’t understand.” I looked back over my shoulder, straining to bring the voices into focus, when I tripped. But Dane never let go of my hand.
When I looked down the row of corn to see what I’d tripped over, I found the source of the hissing noise—a mysterious mound that glistened like encrusted jewels in the moonlight. Dane pulled me to my feet. As I leaned forward, trying to figure out what made it shine that way, the mound shifted. I realized it was made of locusts, thousands of them. They scattered, revealing Tanner Beaumont’s head beneath. The guy from the junkyard. Bloodshot eyes, mouth agape, a locust slipping from his mouth into his nostril.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming as men’s voices filled the atmosphere, the distinct cadence of Spanish. We must be close to the perimeter. The Arcanum—they must’ve killed poor Tanner. The wind moved through the field and I swore I caught the hint of my mother’s scent. “Mom?” I called out.
Dane started to cover my mouth, when a deep hum followed by a brilliant force of light pulsed through the field, blinding me momentarily.
“Bring her to me and all of this will end.” A man’s voice with a thick Castilian Spanish accent pierced through the stalks.
For a moment I thought Katia had returned with my mother, that the Arcanum had them surrounded.
But when Dane pulled a knife from his belt, holding it out in front of him, I knew the man was talking about me.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw him silhouetted on the outer perimeter of the corn. I pushed forward for a better look, but Dane’s arm was hooked firmly around my waist, holding me back. “Don’t listen to him. Coronado will kill you.”
“Please,” I whispered. “I have to see his face.” I was scared, but I needed to see the man who’d been terrorizing my family.
Dane was still holding me fast, but he let me inch forward. The locust carpet sizzled loudly as it moved beneath our feet. We held our ground about five feet from the edge of the corn.