Alyson Noel - Horizon

Then I lift my face to the heavens, drop to my knees, and cave in to my grief. Letting loose the deluge of tears I’ve held back for too long—allowing myself to fully experience the deep-seated pain of losing my grandmother, my mentor, my friend, a woman I truly loved and deeply admired.

I cry until my vision grows so blurry it’s impossible to see even a few feet before me.

I cry until my body grows exhausted and empty.

I cry until I’m suddenly silenced, suddenly strengthened, by an unexpected infusion of the purest, most buoyant stream of joy, beauty, and love flowing through me.

My ancestors are here.

I’m not alone.

Never was.

Although they don’t materialize before me, their presence is made known in the glorious chorus that fills up the sky.

Instinctively, I sway from side to side, gripped by a celestial melody I’m sure only I can hear. But when Kachina snorts and whinnies, when she tips her nose and perks her ears, I know she hears it just as clearly as I do.

It’s a symphony of leaves chimed by Wind, accompanied by Raven’s sweet song. And, if I’m not mistaken, I can even detect the low vibrato of Paloma’s treasured drum.

A sacred instrument, she referred to as a Spirit Horse. Its music akin to a heartbeat, its tempo said to open the portals that lead to the otherworlds.

There is nothing to fear , she told me then, just as she’s telling me now.

This symphony of nature is a message from my abuela . Of that, I am sure . A sort of opus from the natural world, telling me it’s time to rid myself of doubt. Time to trust in the wisdom of my ancestral bloodline. And I’m not one bit surprised Paloma chose to communicate in this way.

With that glorious chorus swirling within me, I leap onto Kachina’s back and race toward home. Only to find a large white box tied with a ribbon as bright and crimson as freshly drawn blood, waiting for me on the stoop.

Dace! He must’ve left a present to distract me from the dream.

I rush toward it, drop to my knees, and go about removing the ribbon and tipping the lid. Only to release a deluge of bright red squares of packing confetti that spill at my feet.

I plunge my hands in, fingers digging deep. Until they butt up against something silky and cold, unyielding and stiff, that I ease free of the box and hold up before me.

A raven.

A dead raven, to be exact.

Its unseeing eyes marred with precisely placed globs of purple paint intended to mimic those of the raven who guides me.

His neck snapped cleanly in half.

His head crudely twisted so that it points the wrong way.

With a square of creamy white paper crammed in his beak.

I take a cursory look all around, checking for signs of Cade’s presence, but other than the coyote tracks left in the finely milled gravel lining the walkway, it seems he’s long gone.

Grasping the paper with the tips of my fingers, I look past the masked coyote with blazing red eyes embossed on the front, and unfold the card to find an invite to the Rabbit Hole’s Masquerade Ball.

DAIRE

“Well, Cade’s never been known for his subtlety, that’s for sure.” Lita leans back against the couch cushions and scowls. “Or his originality, for that matter. A masquerade black-and-white ball? Please.”

“I thought calling it the Resurrection Ball was kind of clever,” Xotichl says. “You know, the building’s resurrecting, they’re resurrecting . . .”

“How can you be sure it’s from Cade?” Axel cuts in, his gaze moving among us. “No one’s seen him in months.”

“Well, if not Cade, then it’s definitely from one of the other Richters.” I glare at the invitation propped on the table before me, and curl my feet up under my legs. “Doesn’t matter who delivered it, Coyote was here, and he left a direct challenge to me, to Dace, to all of us. But the worst part is . . .” I focus on my fingers twisting in my lap. Struggling to find the right way to tell my friends that the house is no longer a sanctuary, no longer a safe place to hide, in a way that doesn’t leave them terrified.

“There’s a worse part?” Lita gathers her hair off her neck and fans herself with her hand. “Well, go on then, let’s hear it.”

Deciding to just state it like it is, I say, “Finding that dead raven on the stoop means the protection spell is no longer working.”

Lita’s eyes bulge. Axel squints. Auden pulls Xotichl closer, while Xotichl’s expression turns to dread.

“Not long after I arrived in Enchantment, Paloma assured me the property was protected. Claimed I had nothing to fear as long as I stayed within the surrounding walls. But now, after this”—I jab a thumb toward the invite—“it’s clear that no longer holds.”

“But we’ve been so good!” Lita cries. “We’ve maintained the salt border by pouring a fresh coat every day. And just last week, Axel fixed a weak spot on the coyote fence when he saw one of its supports was coming loose, causing it to sag against the adobe wall.”

Axel nods to confirm it, as Xotichl adds, “And every time I come over, which is pretty much every day, I reinforce the protection spell in the way Paloma showed me.”

“And yet, despite all our efforts, Coyote still managed to breach.” I shrug. Determined to state the facts with as little drama as possible. “It’s no longer safe for you here. What you choose to do about that is for you to decide.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lita lets go of her hair, allowing it to spill over her shoulders in gorgeous, white-tipped waves.

“It means that things are about to get serious. Things are about to escalate. And while I’ll do my best to protect you, I think the Richters have just taken the first step toward showing me the depths of my limits.”

I return my focus to my friends. Watching as Xotichl keeps a wary gaze on the box, while seeking comfort in Auden’s nearness. What a shame that after all the time they’ve spent apart, he returns to Enchantment just in time for another round of Coyote versus Raven.

“Everyone has limits,” Xotichl says. “We just have to discover theirs.” She prods her new glasses up the delicate bridge of her nose. And when her eyes meet mine, I can’t help but grin. Despite the dire circumstance we find ourselves in, I’m grateful that her sight has returned. Gives us one positive thing to cling to in the midst of a heaping pile of awful.

I glance at Dace beside me, wondering what he’s thinking behind that clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. But he remains as he is, quiet and somber with his focus turned inward, lost in a thought I can’t even fathom.

“Okay, so here’s what we know for sure.” Lita moves from the couch to the fan, seeking relief from the unbearable heat. “The Richters are back in business, both literally and figuratively. Question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“We’re going to rise to the challenge.” I look upon my small group of friends, my voice as determined as my gaze.

“Meaning?” Axel looks at me; he’s the only one in the room who isn’t wilting in the heat, and I can’t help but feel envious.

“It’s like Xotichl said, everyone has limits, no one’s invincible. Heck, even Superman had kryptonite. We just have to discover the Richters’ weakness.”

They all look at me. Well, everyone but Dace who continues to dwell in a faraway place.

“We need to be on high alert. We can’t afford to slack off or get lazy. If nothing else, this invite is a clear warning that the honeymoon is officially over. It’s a direct challenge if I’ve ever seen one.”