The Shade Amulet Read online

  My heart turned, thinking about all the mistakes I’d made while in Washington. He’d taken them in stride, reassuring me that those sorts of things happened to Aretes like us on a regular basis.

  I continued. “I thought I told you a long time ago. And I know I’ve sent you pictures.”

  She tilted her head, thinking back. “Probably. It’s been a while since we kept up with each other through pictures, though.”

  Nicole had a point. We mostly just chatted on the phone these days.

  Alexander motioned to the music box, and Nicole nodded. “Right.”

  She picked it up and closed her eyes. I sensed her magical pulse grow as she directed her energies to the thing in her hands. The box glowed, then vibrated for several moments. When it stopped, Nicole removed the top and pulled out the music contraption and the velvet lining. Stuck in the corner of the box was a bright little piece of metal. She pulled it out and handed it to me.

  I lifted it, inspecting it closely. The flat metal was rectangular. It glimmered in the light as I turned it. Was I supposed to feel something when I touched it? Like a voice whispering in my mind, “Lizzie Ashton, you’re the Chosen One”? Because nothing happened.

  “So, what is it?” I asked.

  “A data chip,” Alexander said. “You take it to Mount Koven, and it will give you access to the prophecy about you.”

  I turned it around, looking at it from all angles. It didn’t look like a data chip, but obviously I didn’t know what I was dealing with here.

  After going over the particulars of my trip to Mount Koven, Alexander promised he would get in touch with me, though he wasn’t sure when that would happen. “I’ll do my best to keep demons from finding you, but where that will take me, I don’t know. Since I can’t be here every minute, I’ll install devices around your house and yard that should prevent the dog from finding you here.” He leveled a glance at me. “That doesn’t mean you should feel safe to wander your yard at random times. They’ll still be able to hear you.”

  “Okay. I’ll help you put them up.” I needed to take part in my safety in some way.

  “No, definitely not. You stay in your house. Only in here and in cars are you truly safe, because the creatures that hunt you travel through corners.”

  “Through corners? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It will eventually.”

  Nicole put her hand on my knee. “I wish I could stay here.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve got yourself and Austin to take care of, especially with a baby coming. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  My visitors got to their feet, and after Nicole gave me a hug, promising to keep in touch, they left. I locked the door behind them and watched out the window as Nicole got in the car and Alexander pulled things out of the trunk, poking them into the grass and dirt around my house. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like he muttered or chanted as he did so. When he finished and left, I sat on my couch.

  Sia, who was typically shy around strangers, ventured into the room and jumped on my lap. I scratched around her ears. “Well, Sia,” I said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, it sounds like. I promise you, I’ll do my best to keep you protected.”

  I gave her another pat, then picked her up and gently set her on the couch. I’d had a rough day and wanted nothing more than to hang out with her, but considering the fact that I was about to fly to Alaska, I needed to pack.

  I called Mrs. Russell and arranged to have her and her husband take care of Sia while I was gone. Before leaving, I sat at my computer and checked my email, wondering if Abel had gotten back with me. He had. His response was short and to the point. The job would be dangerous, and could we meet sometime?

  I shot off an equally brief email, telling him it would need to wait, that I’d be out of town for several days. I had to check the ticket information Nicole had left to know what to tell him, and my eyes boggled when I learned I’d be up in Alaska for that long. Just how much time did I need to get to this Mount Koven?

  His response came immediately, startling me. He wanted to know where we should meet to talk over lunch after I returned. I gave him the address for the Thai House on Main Street. It was by far my favorite restaurant of all the ones I’d tried since living here. Their chicken satay seriously was to die for.

  Realizing I couldn’t just leave the state without telling Chief, I sent him a quick text, letting him know I was heading out of town for a few days on urgent business. I hoped nothing would happen while I was gone, as the nearest Fire Impeder was in California and was always incredibly busy.

  Once everything was ready, I drove to the airport, leaving my car in long-term parking, then made my way to the Delta terminal. The flight to Alaska was uneventful, and when I landed in Anchorage, I grabbed a rental car and went straight to my hotel. The next morning, I got up and headed to Petersville. It was a three-hour drive, a large portion of which was on a muddy, bumpy dirt road. I should have rented an SUV—I’d be surprised if the little sedan I’d rented didn’t get stuck.

  No stuckage in the mud occurred, though, and I finally pulled up into Petersville around nine in the morning and looked around. There were only a handful of buildings—maybe two houses, a barn, and two or three shacks. The place didn’t look or feel like anyone lived there.

  But true to what Alexander had said, an elderly woman was waiting for me on the porch of one of the houses. She waved at me, beckoning me to join her.

  Chapter Seven

  I got out of the car, then locked my purse and things in the trunk of the car, taking only the key and my phone with me. I’d nearly reached the porch when the woman spoke.

  “You’ll need to leave your electronic device in your car as well,” she said. “It won’t work where we’re going anyway.”

  “Okay.” I returned to the car and popped the trunk, putting my phone in my purse.

  I went back to the old woman, admiring the scenery as I walked. Denali was beautiful in the distance, bright white against the blue-sky backdrop. It occurred to me that I didn’t know much about the mountain, and I hoped my guide would be able to answer my questions. She looked like the type who would know a lot about the land around us.

  The woman invited me to sit on the porch. She wore a mauve-colored gingham dress, and interestingly enough, a bonnet. She had a loose bun at the base of her neck, and a few stray curls had escaped. They waved gently in the soft breeze. She stared out at the rest of Petersville, rocking silently on her wooden chair.

  I sat in another rocking chair, not sure if I should break the silence.

  Finally, the woman turned to me and said, “My name is Agnes. I’ll be taking you to Mount Koven. We can’t leave for a while, though—the way is best when it’s dark out.”

  The sun wasn’t even close to setting. Great.

  I looked at the skies. For now, they were clear, and it was warm enough that I only needed a light jacket. I’d learned the previous time I’d visited Alaska that it wasn’t always minus one hundred degrees.

  Since Agnes had broken the silence, I figured it was safe for me to talk. “How many people live in Petersville?” I asked. I hadn’t looked it up before leaving, but now I wished I had.

  Agnes glanced at me, a sad expression in her eyes. “They’re all gone now,” she said. “Only I remain, and I will be here for the rest of time, acting as a guide to the knowledge you and others seek.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands under my chin, studying her face from the corner of my eye. She must have been beautiful at some point—some of that beauty still remained. But she was weathered and had so many wrinkles, I couldn’t tell where one started and another ended. The expression on her face made me want to simultaneously comfort her and ask her for a cookie, though I refrained from doing either.

  “Can you tell me about Denali?” I asked. “I’ve never been here before.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at the grea
t mountain that loomed over Petersville. “I’m surprised you know to call it Denali,” she said. “Most still believe its name to be McKinley.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t give me too much credit—Alexander told me.” The moment I said his name, I wondered if I was supposed to mention him. I decided it couldn’t hurt, though, as he was the one who’d told me I would find her here.

  Agnes didn’t seem to think my bringing him up was some sort of social faux pas, and she gave another little smile. “Denali has enough snow year round that you will never see its true face.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s impressive. What’s the weather like up there?”

  “It depends on the season, of course, but it’s not uncommon for it to have magnificent gusts of wind when there’s a storm, usually around a hundred miles an hour, sometimes even up to two hundred and fifty miles an hour. Storms come on sudden, with practically no warning. They’re very dangerous.

  “The coldest temperature recorded was, I think, somewhere around ninety below.” She looked at me with a reassuring expression. “Don’t let this bother you, though, as we are unlikely to have any bad weather where we’re going.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The way to Mount Koven is underground,” she said. “It’s a magical tunnel—it will take us through glaciers and silt rivers and granite and flysch, which is another type of hard rock.”

  I nodded, acting like these sorts of things happened to me on a regular basis. “Is it creepy?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t said anything. Way to sound like a wimp, Lizzie. Sometimes the filter on my brain doesn’t make it all the way to my mouth.

  Agnes smiled. “It depends on what you consider creepy,” she said.

  I was used to a much faster pace of living, and the hours went by slowly. I’d gotten an early start to the day, and was starving by the time noon came around. When Agnes invited me to eat with her, I practically jumped to my feet, entering the house after her.

  Once inside, I looked around in surprise. The place was coated with a fine layer of dust. Agnes was so neat and comely that it surprised me to see her house so dirty.

  She led me into the kitchen and opened her cupboards. Most of them were bare. At first, I was worried that she was starving to death until we reached one cupboard that still had food in it. She pulled a bag of bread out of the cupboard, handing it to me.

  “Feel free to make yourself a sandwich,” she said.

  I took the bread from her, then looked at it and shrieked in surprise, dropping the bag. Whatever was inside was not bread. Or at least it hadn’t been in years and years.

  The contents had crumbled into a greenish-blue powder that poofed. I looked at Agnes, wondering what to think, not sure how to react or what to say. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment for the lady.

  Her eyes lowered to the bag on the floor, then she looked up at me, a sad expression on her face. “I’m so sorry. Did you bring any food?”

  I’d stashed several granola bars and some string cheese in my purse before leaving the hotel, most of which was still there. Unfortunately, it hadn’t occurred to me to bring enough food to feed me for a trek which could take several days. Stupid of me.

  “Yes. Should I go to the car and eat some?” I asked. Then, suddenly realizing my hostess was in need of food herself, I reached over and was about to put my hand on her shoulder when she flinched away from me. “Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said, pulling my hand back. “I—I can get some food for you, too, if you’d like.”

  Agnes backed up until her hip hit the counter behind her. “No, darling, I don’t need food. Don’t worry about me. You go eat some of yours, and I’ll wait for you on the porch.”

  I nodded and followed her from the kitchen back through the living room. We were nearly to the front door when I noticed that only one trail of footprints made its way through the dust on the floor, and that trail was mine. I looked at Agnes’s shoes, wondering if I was imagining things.

  Her feet were hovering about half an inch above the wooden planks—she wasn’t making a trail because she wasn’t even touching the floor.

  Chapter Eight

  I stumbled away from her, hitting a bookshelf, knocking several books off in the process. Agnes looked at me, and for the first time I noticed that the skin on her face wasn’t whole. Where I’d seen wrinkles before, I now saw only rotted flesh, her teeth visible through the holes in her cheeks.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to control my panic as my breathing became erratic and my heart thumped in my ribcage. If she wanted to hurt me, she would have, I thought.

  Agnes reached up and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “When I’m in darker areas, you see me for what I truly am. A shade.”

  “Um . . .” I couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. As long as you obey and do as you’re told, you will be safe.”

  “What would happen if I didn’t?” I asked, not feeling reassured in the slightest. I mean, what if she wanted me to do something stupid or dangerous? Would she then murder me in my sleep?

  “I’m not that kind of shade,” she said, her voice hurt, a frown on her face. I must have offended her.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just—I don’t run into shades very often. At all, actually.”

  Agnes shrugged. “The place where you’re going is full of us,” she said. “You had better adjust to it now.”

  I wished Alexander had said something about this—a warning would have been nice. I motioned to the front door, doing my best to be casual, even though my heart and muscles were still straining to run. “Let’s go to the porch, then,” I said. “Unless it bothers you to be out there.”

  Agnes shook her head. “No, no, not at all. I don’t mind waiting out there. It’s where I’ve spent most of my time lately. I’d been expecting you last night, honestly.”

  I growled to myself. If I’d known that Alexander had intended me to go straight to Petersville after landing, I would’ve done that, and an entire day wouldn’t have been wasted.

  We went outside, Agnes shutting the door behind us. She sat in her rocking chair again and I descended the steps and walked to the car, grabbing my purse from the trunk. I sat on the front seat, leaving the door open so I wasn’t shutting Agnes out. I needed a little bit of alone time to gather my thoughts.

  Why was I with a ghost, for crying out loud? And why was this place I was heading to full of them?

  As I pondered over these questions, I ate one of the granola bars and some string cheese. I was famished and could have inhaled all of them, but I didn’t know when my next meal would be. If what Agnes had said was true, it would probably be several days before I had another full meal. Too bad I hadn’t eaten a big breakfast.

  I took out my phone and pulled up Google maps, hoping to be able to search for a nearby restaurant. Nothing came up—not enough service here. I tucked my phone back into my purse and joined Agnes on the porch. “I’m unprepared, and I’m sorry for that,” I said. “Is there a place nearby where I could buy food?”

  Agnes nodded, rose to her feet, walked to the edge of the porch, and pointed. “Down that way is a place that houses tourists. They have nice little cottages. They may have food. If they don’t, they’ll know where you can get some.” She turned her big brown eyes on me and said, “Be back at least half an hour before the sun sets. We’ll leave the moment twilight hits.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  I got back in the car and turned around, heading down the muddy, bumpy dirt road until I saw a sign for a what looked like tourist lodgings. I entered the main office and waited until a woman emerged from a back room.

  “Do you have food I could purchase?” I asked.

  “What do you need?”

  We talked back and forth for a moment as I tried to tell her what I needed when I didn’t really know where I was going. She offered fruits and breads, which I accepted gratef
ully after she refused my ten-dollar bill. She then gave me instructions to a place called Cubby’s that was about half an hour away. I headed there and purchased several items, glad that I liked big purses.

  Once back in the car, I emptied everything out of my large purse and filled it with food and water bottles.

  By the time I got back to Petersville, the sun was close to setting and it was getting pretty chilly outside. Agnes was standing anxiously on the porch. She took one look at what I was wearing and asked if I had anything warmer with me. I did, and pulled my suitcase from the trunk. I’d packed a large coat, earmuffs, a hat, gloves, and a pair of snow pants. I donned them all, and Agnes looked me up and down, declaring me fit to be out in the cold in Alaska. Then the two of us set off.

  As we walked, Agnes pointed out the glaciers we could see on this side of Denali, then told me about the different foliage and trees that surrounded us. I wasn’t disappointed in her knowledge of the area. When I asked, she confirmed that she’d lived in Petersville her whole life. She’d passed away in the mid-nineteen hundreds, and that surprised me because she dressed like someone from the eighteen hundreds.

  We hiked a short ways up the foothills, approaching a large boulder smack-dab in the middle of a gently sloping meadow. Agnes paused, putting her hand out to stop me, nearly touching me. I wondered if she didn’t want to touch me because she was a ghost. Or was it because of unpleasant side effects I’d experience if she did?

  She bowed her head and clasped her hands in front of her as if she were about to pray, and unsure what to do, I did the same. The words that came out of her mouth weren’t any prayer I recognized, though. I heard words like “shade” and “master.” At one point, it sounded like she was speaking a different language—almost Germanic. Maybe Dutch.

  With a groan, the large boulder shifted and rolled to the side, revealing a gaping hole.