her turned into an inferno as the plane exploded, and yet Layla never felt the heat.
When she looked up, Niyol was at her side and pulling her to her feet. She looked over his shoulder in disbelief.
The fifty-foot flames still burning had incinerated the plane and pilot upon impact.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” he said.
“But how?”
“Your aim is true. Your heart is pure. You have work yet to be done.”
“What did you do to me?” she whispered.
“It does not matter. Just know that your arrow will never miss a target again, your life will not be taken, and your journey has just begun.”
Layla wanted to cry. This was happening too fast. She was losing herself and she didn’t know how to stop it. Fear choked any words she might have spoken as she picked up the bow and quiver of arrows, but by the time they were in her grasp, the emotion had passed.
“Is this all that will come?” she asked.
“No.”
A muscle jerked at the side of her jaw. “Then take me somewhere safe, at least for tonight.”
He led her back to the still idling motorcycle. She handed him the weapons, which he rolled up in the blanket, picked up her backpack as he handed her the helmet. She tossed it right back out into the sand.
“I do not need it. I cannot die.”
He laughed. Humans were funny, even at the strangest of times.
“That’s not exactly true.”
“As long as you’re with me, it is. I thought that I would die and I didn’t. I need to feel the wind on my face.”
He toed the kickstand up and revved the engine. They raced past the burning plane without a glance and rode until sunset was only minutes away.
Layla was worrying about camping out in the open in the dark when he heard her thoughts.
Not in the open. With the Old Ones.
She couldn’t see over his shoulders and had to bide her time to see where he was taking her. When she began hearing drums again and saw ruins up against the canyon walls, she realized where they were. The Anasazi ruins – where an entire civilization had disappeared without a trace.
They are not lost.
Then where did they go?
He didn’t answer, but the drums were loud in her ears as the bike rolled to a stop. She got off, and then helped him push it up against the wall of the canyon.
“We make camp here,” he said, and began carrying their bedrolls inside the nearest crumbling structure.
“Why go inside? There are only two crumbling walls left and no roof.”
He sighed. “Come inside before the last light is gone. They are waiting.”
“Who’s waiting?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.
She trailed him past the broken doorway without comment, and dropped her backpack into the dirt.
“I’ll see if I can find some wood,” she said.
He stopped her with a look. “There will be fire. There will be food.” He pointed. “We are their guests tonight.”
Layla stifled the scream at the back of her throat. They hadn’t been there before, but now there were two men standing but a few feet away, watching. One beckoned her to sit. Layla dropped where she stood, too shocked to do less than was asked.
All of a sudden there was a fire between them, and then Niyol was sitting cross-legged on the ground beside her.
“They have food. Eat what they give you.”
One man came toward her and yet his feet never moved. When he stopped to lay food in her hands, she looked up to say thank you, only to realize she could see stars where his eyes should have been.
He wasn’t real, and yet the food in her hands was hot. She looked at Niyol for answers, but he was already eating, scooping up a big bite with his fingers. She did the same, and although she didn’t recognize the dish, the taste was familiar. Something made of masa… ground corn… and something stirred in it, something small and sweet.
It is a berry. They do not grow here.
Layla ate until the bowl was empty. The other man came toward them, carrying tortoise shells filled with water. She didn’t look up,
When she looked up, Niyol was at her side and pulling her to her feet. She looked over his shoulder in disbelief.
The fifty-foot flames still burning had incinerated the plane and pilot upon impact.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” he said.
“But how?”
“Your aim is true. Your heart is pure. You have work yet to be done.”
“What did you do to me?” she whispered.
“It does not matter. Just know that your arrow will never miss a target again, your life will not be taken, and your journey has just begun.”
Layla wanted to cry. This was happening too fast. She was losing herself and she didn’t know how to stop it. Fear choked any words she might have spoken as she picked up the bow and quiver of arrows, but by the time they were in her grasp, the emotion had passed.
“Is this all that will come?” she asked.
“No.”
A muscle jerked at the side of her jaw. “Then take me somewhere safe, at least for tonight.”
He led her back to the still idling motorcycle. She handed him the weapons, which he rolled up in the blanket, picked up her backpack as he handed her the helmet. She tossed it right back out into the sand.
“I do not need it. I cannot die.”
He laughed. Humans were funny, even at the strangest of times.
“That’s not exactly true.”
“As long as you’re with me, it is. I thought that I would die and I didn’t. I need to feel the wind on my face.”
He toed the kickstand up and revved the engine. They raced past the burning plane without a glance and rode until sunset was only minutes away.
Layla was worrying about camping out in the open in the dark when he heard her thoughts.
Not in the open. With the Old Ones.
She couldn’t see over his shoulders and had to bide her time to see where he was taking her. When she began hearing drums again and saw ruins up against the canyon walls, she realized where they were. The Anasazi ruins – where an entire civilization had disappeared without a trace.
They are not lost.
Then where did they go?
He didn’t answer, but the drums were loud in her ears as the bike rolled to a stop. She got off, and then helped him push it up against the wall of the canyon.
“We make camp here,” he said, and began carrying their bedrolls inside the nearest crumbling structure.
“Why go inside? There are only two crumbling walls left and no roof.”
He sighed. “Come inside before the last light is gone. They are waiting.”
“Who’s waiting?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.
She trailed him past the broken doorway without comment, and dropped her backpack into the dirt.
“I’ll see if I can find some wood,” she said.
He stopped her with a look. “There will be fire. There will be food.” He pointed. “We are their guests tonight.”
Layla stifled the scream at the back of her throat. They hadn’t been there before, but now there were two men standing but a few feet away, watching. One beckoned her to sit. Layla dropped where she stood, too shocked to do less than was asked.
All of a sudden there was a fire between them, and then Niyol was sitting cross-legged on the ground beside her.
“They have food. Eat what they give you.”
One man came toward her and yet his feet never moved. When he stopped to lay food in her hands, she looked up to say thank you, only to realize she could see stars where his eyes should have been.
He wasn’t real, and yet the food in her hands was hot. She looked at Niyol for answers, but he was already eating, scooping up a big bite with his fingers. She did the same, and although she didn’t recognize the dish, the taste was familiar. Something made of masa… ground corn… and something stirred in it, something small and sweet.
It is a berry. They do not grow here.
Layla ate until the bowl was empty. The other man came toward them, carrying tortoise shells filled with water. She didn’t look up,
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