Alyson Noel - Horizon

“Is it really that easy?” Auden strives to keep his tone light, but his skeptical expression betrays him. “I’m sorry to say it, Daire, but I’m with Lita. Dace is dangerous, and what you’re offering sounds a little too woo-woo to effectively go against the beast he described.”

“I don’t expect any of this to be easy, but when has that ever stopped us from trying?” They all look at each other, but I can’t help but notice how they avoid looking at me.

“Daire, you need to understand that you make it nearly impossible for us to trust that you care about our safety when you insist that Dace can be rehabilitated. He told us point-blank that it was too late. That it wasn’t his to control. And, seeing as how it’s happening to him, I think he just might be the authority on the topic.”

I look from Xotichl to Axel, willing him to chime in. I can understand my friends’ unease, but I thought for sure Axel would be on my side.

“You too, Axel?” I fix my gaze on his. “Just this morning you said intent was magick’s most important ingredient—that belief was the spine of intent. Did you believe what you said, or were you just humoring me?” His eyes meet mine but his mood is impossible to read. “Are you willing to stand behind your words, or have you changed your mind? And Lita—” I switch my focus to her. “What about when you said that I didn’t have to go it alone? That you were all willing to help? Is that no longer true? Because it’s really starting to feel like you’re all standing on the sidelines shouting for the kill, when I’m the one in the arena—I’m the one fighting the fight—which means I just might have a better perspective than you.”

Lita flinches, drops her gaze to her feet, as Axel pushes away from the wall and swipes a hand through his halo of curls. Looking from Lita, to Xotichl, to Auden, then finally to me, he says, “I’m here for you, Daire. But, I guess there are limits. If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to save all of you over Dace and I think we’re all hoping we could get that same assurance from you.”

They nod in unison, and I take a moment before I reply. “I assure you, that if it comes down to making that choice, your safety will be my first priority. But it’s really a moot point, since it will never come to that.”

“Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.” Lita scowls.

“Well, it’s the best I can do. Which means we’ll just have to call a truce on this one and agree to disagree because I’m not going to lie to you. So, that said, I was hoping we could put this behind us and move on. We have a battle ahead and we need to prepare.” I turn my attention to Axel, motioning for him to follow when I say, “I need your help in the bedroom.”

“Uh—should I be worried?” Lita feigns a look of mock concern that soon shifts to curiosity when we return with a beautifully carved, hand-painted wooden trunk balanced between us. “What is that?” She leans in to get a better look.

“Think of it as my tool chest.” I crack a smile. “Paloma gave it to me, along with all the tools I keep locked inside.”

“Tools of the Light Worker trade?” Auden says. He’s the least initiated among us, but that’s about to change.

“Something like that.” I spin the wheel of the combination lock I placed there shortly after Paloma passed on. How silly it seems now in light of all that’s just happened. Like this simple, metal lock could ever keep a Richter at bay.

Then again, a Richter would never have the slightest interest in the tools I’ve stashed here.

And that just may turn out to be one of my biggest strengths.

In every encounter with Cade, every time he seemed to get the upper hand, he always made sure to mock the wisdom of my ancestors—my collection of magickal talismans. The pouch I wear at my neck—the small double-edged knife imbued with Valentina’s essence—it’s all a big joke to him.

Cade relies solely on his devious mind, his abyss of a soul, and the snake-tongued monster residing within. Though last I saw, the beast had abandoned him. Unlike my tools which have never once failed me.

Where failure’s concerned, I’ve only failed myself.

But no more.

I kneel before the trunk and raise the lid. Aware of my friends gathering closer, as I remove the soft, hand-woven blanket I placed on top, then set the tools upon it, one by one.

“Oh,” Lita murmurs, her voice, like her face, betraying her disappointment. “I thought there’d be cool stuff. I thought you’d hidden an arsenal in there.”

“Make no mistake, in the right hands, this is an arsenal.” I shove the bag Dace left well out of the way. I don’t have to look to know what’s inside. It’s his blowgun and darts, but there’s no way I’ll use it on them. And, with my friends all too willing to turn on him, they don’t need to know it exists. Then after arranging the pieces so the rawhide rattle on the long wooden stick lies beside the large drum bearing the face of a purple-eyed raven, I place the three feathers that came from a swan, a raven, and an eagle all in a row, and finish by adding the pendulum with the small chunk of amethyst attached to its end.

“Grab some pizza,” I say. “Refill your drinks, and get comfortable. I’m going to teach you how to use everything here. And it’s probably going to take the better part of the night.”

LITA

“I feel so guilty.” I bite my lip and frown at the overcrowded rack of dresses before me.

“Why? What’d you do now?”

I slew my gaze toward Xotichl. “What do you mean, ‘ what did I do now’ ?”

“Well, I figure if you’re feeling guilty, there must be a reason.”

“Sheesh.” I roll my eyes, shake my head, but it’s really more for dramatic effect, my heart isn’t in it. “Will I ever live down my diva past?”

“Not likely.” Xotichl inches her purple glasses up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her finger.

“Anyway, I didn’t exactly do anything. The reason I feel guilty is because everything around us is either falling apart, on the verge of falling apart, or, according to the Codex, destined to fall apart. And yet, despite the forecast of gloom and doom with a ninety-nine percent chance of complete world annihilation, deep down inside I’m still bursting with the absolute euphoria of unbounded happiness, and I know it’s not right.”

“That’s what love does.” Xotichl bobs her head as though listening to a song only she can hear. Choosing a dress from the rack, she scrutinizes it for a handful of seconds, only to exchange it for another, and then reject that as well. “Love is irrational. Nonsensical. Makes you feel things that seem wildly inappropriate when you consider the surrounding circumstances. And yet, you shouldn’t ever question it, shouldn’t ever doubt it. You should just accept it for the gift that it is.” She pushes away from the rack and scans the rest of the shop.

“I guess . . .” I sigh, unwilling to concede quite so easily. “Still, it just seems so wrong to feel so good when everything around me is going to hell. It’s like, champagne corks popping in here.” I thump my hand against my chest. “And the raging river of Hades out there.” I jab my thumb toward the general direction of the green exit sign. “Not to mention how I’m pretty sure we’re starting to grate on Daire’s nerves.”

“Starting?” Xotichl throws her head back and laughs like it’s the funniest joke I’ve told all year. “I’m pretty sure her nerves were grated from the first night you and Axel laid eyes on each other.”

“I knew it!” Feeling suddenly vindicated to confirm what I suspected all along, I lean toward her, grab her by the arm, and say, “You felt it too?” We’ve never had this discussion, and I’m eager to dissect it down to the smallest bit of minutiae.