Chapter 8 #2
“Dammit, Persephone!” Booker seethes, kicking a nearby wooden chair. Upon hitting the wall, the seat breaks, sending splinters of wood flying. My heart beats faster, unsure if I should wait outside or stay and give the man a moment to calm down.
“I swear I’m gonna find out who did it and then run that son of a bitch through.”
“That’s your business,” Garrett chimes in. “But right now, somehow, Persephone gave her dustslinger powers to Bex, and she needs help to understand how to…”—he glances over at me—“to access them.”
Wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, Booker paces the space for a few more moments, before stopping and letting out a frustrated sigh.
His eyes glisten with tears as he shakes his head at me.
“I can’t help you. She never told me about how it all works.
There’s some kind of loyalty pact or secret oath that prevents her from talking about the inner workings of a dustslinger. ”
That makes sense. Knowing the source of her magic would allow her enemies to easily discover her vulnerabilities. That might have even be the reason for her death that evening—someone discovered a way to skirt her defenses.
But then I focus on the other part of Booker’s words. The part about a loyalty pact or secret oath. “If she wasn’t permitted to talk about her powers, that must mean there’re more out there, right?”
Booker clears his throat, and despite still being upset, he composes himself, which I believe is for our benefit. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and says, “Well, if there are, we’ve never seen ’em. The only dustslinger I’ve ever known is Persephone.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that there may be others out there,” I retort.
The two men don’t answer. Instead, Booker raises an eyebrow at Garrett and says, “It’s a full moon tonight.”
“No.” Garrett waves his hands, crossing his arms in a no gesture. “It’s too risky.”
“What’s too risky?” I ask, but the men continue plotting a course without me.
“It’s the only way to get the answers you’re looking for.” Booker points a finger at me but speaks to Garrett. “Only those born of the veil heritage have the natural connection. The rest of us have to present ourselves and be judged…if we want her ear and guidance.”
“Who?” I’ve had about enough of this speaking around me.
“Isn’t there another way?” Garrett asks, still disregarding my presence.
“Once word gets out that Persephone’s gone,” Booker’s tone is concerning, “Gravers Junction’s gonna be getting a lot of unwanted visitors. Even more if they discover you’ve got a virgin dustslinger.”
“Virgin?” I repeat with a harsh tone and a crazed woman’s hand clap. This has the two men turning their gazes on me.
Garrett shakes his head and clarifies, “No. Not like that. He just means you haven’t been acquainted with…oh, forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“And I won’t ever understand if you two keep dodging my questions! Now tell me. Who must I become acquainted with in order to learn more about my dustslinger powers?”
“Before you jump in and agree to what’s being suggested”—Garrett lets out a frustrated groan and looks to me—“you should know that Booker lives out here for two reasons.”
Booker cuts in to finish explaining, “The first is because I’m a werewolf, hence the pearly whites being so immaculate.”
My gaze goes wide to their fullest as I look him over. “That’s not possible. Werewolves aren’t real.”
“I assure you, ma’am, we’re real. I’m also an alpha, and I chose not to have a pack. Too much responsibility. I prefer the loner life. But there are packs out there, some more organized than others.”
I look to Garrett and ask, “Is this why it’s not safe to go outside at night?”
He nods and adds, “Among other things.”
Maureen’s earlier mention of things out there that only exist in nightmares resurfaces in my mind.
“Other things? What other things?” I can’t decide whether I want to have Garrett take me back to town so Nina and I can pack up and leave this delusional place or if I want to stay and learn all there is to know.
I take a deep breath.
Werewolves are real.
I stare at the man before me. He looks so…normal. When Garrett doesn’t answer my question about other things, I turn to Booker. “Is that why you asked me if I’d gotten bitten?”
He nods, and then sighs with a apologetic smile.
“There’s a lot of things out here in Graveyard Territory that can’t be explained, darlin’.
If you’re originally from Billingsworth, then I recommend you think long and hard about staying in these parts.
Billingsworth is a safe place to live, no aberrants out there. ”
“What’s an aberrant?”
“You are. I am.” Booker looks to Garrett, then says, “And—”
“And that just means there’s more to you than being human,” Garrett finishes for his friend. “Whether it’s magic that makes you one of the branded aberrants, or if you’re born into one of the races.”
I lower myself into one of the wooden chairs. “So, there’s other kinds of creatures that exists? Ones I only thought were from story books?”
“We don’t like the word creatures. Aberrants is the universal name that separates us from the humans,” Booker explains. Rolling up his sleeve, he shows me his branded mark. It’s exactly like the one I saw on my back through the reflection of the handheld mirror.
Reaching one hand over my shoulder, I try and touch the spot where it’s scarred into my skin. Garrett tilts his head, as if he’s piecing together what I’m doing. “I’m sorry about this, Bex. You didn’t ask for this, and now you’re kind of stuck with it.”
“Hey, why was Persephone out in Billingsworth County anyway?” Booker stares at me, as if I know why she was at my farm.
“She didn’t say. Before she passed, she gave me a message to give to Maureen.” They both stare at me, waiting for me to relay the message. “Oh, sure. Why the hell not.” The curse feels good on my tongue. “She said to tell Maureen that Persephone is dead and that Malik Graves did it.”
“It was him! That son of a bitch!” Booker punches the wall, and it goes straight through, leaving a giant hole to the outside.
“Listen,” I say, getting to my feet, hoping to elevate some of his heartache.
“I want to do her right and be the best dustslinger I can be to protect myself and those around me—whether it be at Gravers Junction or if we decide to return home. So, whatever dangerous thing we need to do in order for me to learn more about whatever’s inside me, let’s do it. ”
Booker flexes his hand, the cuts along his knuckles from punching the wall slowly heal right before my eyes. Well, damn. Taking a step closer, he tells me, “The Spirit of the Land knows all, and she’s the only one who can bring you closer to the answers you seek.”
“This is a bad idea,” Garrett grumbles. “The spirit isn’t always kind, and if she deems you unworthy, she’ll claim your soul and leave your body to decay and return to the earth it came from.”
I blink before wrinkling my nose at him. “Well, that sounds unpleasant.”
Garrett dips his gaze and stares me right in the eyes. “I need you to fully understand what you’re agreeing to. This is dangerous, and you could die.”
The silence that fills the room is unsettling. I want to do whatever’s necessary, yet I’m scared that if things go wrong, I may never see another day again.
“How about I cook us up some stew for supper while y’all think about it? We’ve got time,” Booker says, shoving an old shirt into the hole he’s put in the wall. “We wouldn’t be able to call on her until midnight anyhow.”
I roll up my sleeves, not worried if the dustslinger within me comes to life. Booker knows my secret. “How can I help?” I ask, and he hands me a knife.
“You can cut up the vegetables, and I’ll go get us some meat.”
“I’ll go find Murphy,” Garrett grumbles, clearly annoyed.
If what they’re saying is true, and this Spirit of the Land can claim my soul, ending my life, I regret not arguing more with Maureen about letting my sister accompany me on this trip.
What if I die tonight, leaving Nina alone in this world?
Straightening my shoulders and grabbing a potato, I refuse to think any other thoughts but positive ones.
I will see Nina again. I will conquer this challenge. Tonight is not the night I die.