Echo Soul Seekers

two

“Did you tell her?” Dace gestures toward Paloma’s blue gate as I slip inside his old beater truck and settle beside him.

“Not yet.” I gnaw the inside of my cheek and steer my gaze from his. Hearing his softly muttered hmmm as he pulls away from the curb. Recognizing it as Dace-speak for: I’m not sure I agree with your methods, but I’m sure you have your reasons.

Dace doesn’t judge.

He’s so nice, kind, and accepting, he wouldn’t even consider it.

He’s the literal definition of good.

The result of a split soul—his is the pure half—the opposite of his twin’s. While mine is of the more usual variety—straddling the varying shades of light and dark, swaying toward one or the other depending on the circumstance.

“I was going to,” I say, my voice pitching too high to convince, but it’s not like it stops me. “But by the time you dropped me off, she was with a client—she’s starting to see them again—and by the time she was finished, I was already asleep.”

“And this morning?” He looks at me, lips quirking at the side, knowing Paloma’s an outspoken advocate for proper nutrition. Starting each day with a healthy breakfast is pretty much the heart and soul of her manifesto. The only way I could’ve avoided the subject—avoided her—is by skipping it entirely. Which I did, by staying in my room until the very last minute, then making a mad dash for the door the instant I sensed Dace drive up. Pausing just long enough for her to press one of her freshly baked, organic, blue-corn muffins into my hand as I made for his truck.

There’s no graceful way out. I’m guilty as charged. “I got a late start.” Sneaking another peek at him, I add, “But, honestly, I guess I just wasn’t ready.”

He nods, grips the wheel tighter, navigating a series of deeply rutted dirt roads as I stare out the window. Noting how the old adobe homes lining the perimeter no longer sag like they used to. How the cars parked in the yards seem a little less rusted—and the chickens that roam those yards appear a little less emaciated. All of it thanks to Dace and my small triumph in the Lowerworld, when we convinced the Bone Keeper to release all those poor souls the Richters had stolen.

Yet despite our success, the town still doesn’t come close to living up to its name of Enchantment. Though it is a little less dismal than it was when I first arrived, and I consider that progress.

“If you want, we can tell her together.” Dace looks at me. “I’m scheduled to work after school, but I’m willing to go in late if it’ll help.”

I shake my head, too choked up by his offer to speak. Dace relies on every penny he earns working at the Rabbit Hole. After paying rent on the tiny apartment he keeps in town, gas and insurance for his two beat-up cars, and the small amount he sends to help Chepi, there’s not much left over. There’s no way I’ll let him take a hit in pay for something I should’ve done on my own.

“I’ll handle it,” I say. “Really. Today. After school. Before I head back to the Lowerworld, I’ll tell her. Though I’ve a pretty good feeling she already knows. Paloma knows everything. It’s more than an abuela’s sixth sense—she’s beyond perceptive. I’m sure my silence speaks louder than any words could.”

“Still,” he says. “Those fish…” His voice fades, as his gaze grows cloudy and troubled, his lips pale and grim. “I think I should mention it to Leftfoot. Chepi too. Maybe they can help?”

At the mention of his mother, it’s my turn to go grim. Having spent Dace’s entire childhood shielding him from the more mystical side of life—only to watch me come to town and drag him headfirst into all the trouble and weirdness this place has to offer, she’s not exactly my biggest fan.

Yet, according to Paloma, it was our destiny to meet, just as it’s our destiny to work together to keep the Richters contained, and the Lower-, Middle-, and Upperworlds balanced. And once in motion, destiny cannot be stopped.

I’m just about to ask if he might reconsider telling Chepi, when he turns into the school parking lot and brakes beside Auden’s ancient wood-paneled station wagon. Lowering the window enough to allow a gust of cold air to rush in, we watch Auden guide Xotichl out of the passenger seat and lead her toward us, her red-tipped cane weaving before her.

“Xotichl claims it’ll snow by Christmas, but I say no way.” Auden pushes his tousled golden-brown hair from his eyes and grins. “In fact, we’re taking bets—you in?”

“You’re seriously betting against Xotichl?” I ask, my voice as incredulous as the expression I wear on my face. She may be blind, but she’s the most perceptive person I’ve ever met—next to Paloma, that is.

Auden shrugs, slips an arm around Xotichl’s shoulders, and plants a kiss on her cheek. “I should probably know better—betting against her never comes to any good—but I’m pretty convinced she’s wrong on this one. It hasn’t snowed in Enchantment in years. Not since I was a kid. And there’s no sign of that changing anytime soon.”

“It certainly feels cold enough to snow.” I watch my breath billowing before me as I pull my gloves from my backpack and slip them onto my hands. Thinking it’s time to trade in my usual olive-green army jacket—recently left a bit shredded in places, thanks to an unfortunate encounter with a certain undead Richter—for something a little more weather-resistant. “I thought it snowed pretty much everywhere in these parts?”

“It does,” Auden says. “But not here. Not anymore.”

“That used to be true, but this year is different,” Xotichl says, a sly smile lighting her beautiful, heart-shaped face as her blue/gray eyes flit in the general direction of mine.

“You sensing snow energy?” My arms circle my waist, bracing against the cold as I slip free of the truck and move to join them.

“I’m sensing something.” Xotichl’s voice is soft and lilting, clearly enjoying her secret.

“So?” Auden looks at me.

I glance between them, not missing a beat, as I say, “Sorry, Auden, but I’m pretty much always going to bet on Xotichl.”

Auden shoots me a rueful look and turns to Dace. “And you?”

Dace grasps my hand in solidarity, his icy-blue eyes meeting mine. “And I’m pretty much always going to bet on Daire.”

Auden sighs, turning in the direction of Lita, Jacy, and Crickett, who call to us from across the lot. “Still can’t stop thinking of them as the Cruel Crew. Guess I need to update our Facebook status to ‘friends.’” He shakes his head and grins. “What do you think, should I even bother asking them?”

“Only if you can handle the rejection.” Xotichl laughs, as we widen our circle to admit them.

“What’s so funny? What’d I miss?” Lita flips her hair over her shoulder, allowing it to fall in gorgeous dark waves down her back, as her eyes—still heavily made-up, though much improved since Jennika’s professional makeover—move anxiously among us. She hates to be left out of anything, no matter how trivial.

“A white Christmas. Is it possible? Yay or nay?” Auden gets right to the point.

“Yay. Definitely, voting for yay.” Lita claps her gloved hands for emphasis as the others nod their agreement. “It’s gonna require a freaking miracle though. Last time it snowed, I was like, six. Then again, it is the season for miracles, right?”

She bounces on the tips of her toes and buries her mitten-covered hands under her armpits in an attempt to ward off the cold. The trill of the bell prompting Auden to kiss Xotichl good-bye so he can head off to rehearse with his band, as the rest of us make for the building, where I pause at my locker long enough to drop off some books and lighten my load.

Lita lingers beside me, watching in annoyed silence as Dace gives me a brief peck on the cheek and promises to find me at break before heading to class. Waiting until he’s well out of earshot before she thrusts her hand toward me, and says, “Quick. Take it. Before you make us both late.”

I stare at the folded piece of paper pinched between two of her fingers. About to remind her that she’s here of her own volition—that her tardiness is completely on her—but squelching it just as quickly. Being friends with Lita means not only learning to ignore half of what she says, but never forgetting that deep down inside, her heart is mostly good.

“Secret Santa,” she says, watching as I unfold the note and squint in confusion. Her voice competing with the sound of her boot tapping hard and fast against the tile floor. “Yesterday, when we drew names at lunch, I got Dace. And I figured you’d want to trade since you guys are together and all. Besides, it’s way too weird for me to buy him a gift after breaking up with his twin.”

I nod in agreement, knowing it’ll be a lot easier to come up with something Dace will like that fits within our set twenty-dollar limit, than it would be for the name I’d originally drawn. Then seeing her expectant face, I say, “Though I’m not sure that works—I drew you.”

Lita’s eyes brighten. Clearly taken with the idea of shopping for herself, she turns on her heel, saying, “No worries. I’ll work it out.”

She dashes down the hall, the sound of her boots meeting the floor nearly drowning me out when I call, “Hey, Lita—”

She pauses, a look of impatience fixed on her face.

“Speaking of—have you seen or talked to Cade?”

She rolls her eyes, smiling smugly as she says, “Are you kidding? He’s gone underground. Totally fallen off the radar. Probably licking his wounds and tending to his poor, broken heart. Had I known how amazing this would feel—how easy it would be to break him—I would’ve done it years ago!”

She chases the words with a laugh. The sound so light, happy, and self-satisfied, I wish I could buy into it that easily. Wish I could trust in her theory that Cade is simply suffering the unexpected ego blow of being rejected by a pretty girl for the very first time. Then she turns on her heel and flees down the hall, her hair fanning behind her as she steps into class. Leaving me standing before my locker when the second bell rings, officially marking me tardy.

I gaze all around, taking in the quiet, empty hall as I heave my bag onto my shoulder and head back the same way I came. Speeding past the guard’s outraged warnings as I tuck into the frigid morning chill and make my way back to Paloma’s.