“I sure appreciate your concern, Aunt Prue.”
“I ain't concerned. Not so long as you take the maps.” She patted my hand. “Ya'll are gonna find that gold-eyed Lena Duchannes. Even a blind squirrel sometimes finds himself a nut.”
“I hope so, ma'am.”
Aunt Prue patted my hand and took hold of her cane. “Then you better stop talkin’ ta old ladies and meet that trouble halfway, so there'll only be half as much. Good Lord willin’ and the creek don't rise.” She steered Thelma away from us.
Lucille ran along behind them for a minute, the bell on her collar jingling. Aunt Prue stopped and smiled. “See you still got that cat. I was waitin’ for the right time ta let her offa that clothesline. She knows a trick or two. You'll see. You still got her tag, don't ya?”
“Yes, ma'am. It's in my pocket.”
“Needs one a those rings to fix it on her collar. But you hold on ta it, and I'll get ya one.” Aunt Prue unwrapped another peppermint and dropped it on the ground for Lucille. “I'm real sorry I called you a deserter, ole girl, but you know Mercy'd never have let me give you up otherwise.”
Lucille sniffed the peppermint.
Thelma waved and smiled her big Dolly Parton smile. “Good luck, Sweet Meat.”
I watched them walk down the hill behind us, wondering what else I didn't know about the people in my family. Who else seemed senile and clueless, but was actually watching my every move? Who else was protecting Caster Scrolls and secrets in their spare time or mapping a world most of Gatlin didn't know existed?
Lucille licked the peppermint. If she knew, she wasn't talking.
“Okay, so we've got a map. That's gotta be something, right, MJ?” Link's mood improved after Aunt Prue and Thelma disappeared down the path.
“Liv?” She didn't hear me. She was flipping pages in her notebook with one hand and tracing a pathway across the map with the other.
“Here's Charleston, and this must be Savannah. So if you assume the Arclight has been helping us find the southern pathway, toward the coast …”
“Why the coast?” I interrupted.
“Due south. As if we were following the Southern Star, remember?” Liv sat back, frustrated. “There are so many branching pathways. We're only a few hours from the Savannah Doorwell, but that could mean anything down here.” She was right. If time and physics didn't directly correspond above and below the ground, who was to say we weren't in China by now?
“Even if we knew where we were, it could take days to find it on this map. We don't have time.”
“Well, we'd better get started. It's all we've got.”
But it was something — something that made it feel like we might actually be able to find Lena. I wasn't sure whether it was because I believed the maps could get us there or because I thought I could.
It didn't matter, as long as I found Lena in time.
Good Lord willin’ and the creek don't rise.
6.19
Bad Girl
My optimism was short-lived. The more I thought about finding Lena, the more I thought about John. What if Liv was right, and Lena would never go back to being the girl I remembered? What if we were already too late? I thought about the swirling black designs on her hands.
I was still thinking about it when the words drifted into my mind. They were faint at first. For a second, I thought it was Lena's voice. But when I heard the familiar melody, I knew I was wrong.
Seventeen moons, seventeen years
Know the loss, stay the fears
Wait for him and he appears
Seventeen moons, seventeen tears …
My Shadowing Song. I tried to figure out what my mother was trying to tell me. You don't have much time. Her words rattled around in my mind. Wait for him and he appears…. Was she talking about Abraham?
If she was, what was I going to do?
I was so absorbed in the verse, I didn't realize Link was talking to me. “Did you hear that?”
“The song?”
“What song?” He signaled us to be quiet. He was talking about something else. It sounded like dry leaves crunching behind us, and the low whipping of the wind. But there wasn't even a breeze.
“I don't —” Liv began, but Link shut her down.
“Shh!”
Liv rolled her eyes. “Are all American guys as brave as the two of you?”
“I heard it, too.” I looked around, but there was nothing, not a single living thing. Lucille's ears perked up.
Everything happened so quickly it was impossible to follow. Because it wasn't a living thing I'd heard.
It was Hunting Ravenwood, Macon's brother — and his killer.