He lowers his gaze, pulls his wallet from his pocket, and I realize I’m not ready to leave it this way.
“Though any advice would be greatly appreciated.”
He tosses a wad of bills on the table, and without hesitation, says, “Don’t lose your focus.”
I squint, unsure what he means.
“Don’t lose sight of what matters most.”
“Which is?”
“The people who rely on you to keep them safe from the Richters.”
I drop my gaze, having read between the lines. “In other words, don’t let my love for Dace—my fantasy that I alone can change him—tame him—slay the beast within and return him to the Dace I know and love—don’t let that get in the way of being the Seeker I was born to be. Is that what you’re saying?” I sigh, having expected this, but still disappointed to hear him echo the same sentiment as my friends.
My gaze meets his, finding the confirmation right there in his eyes. Also like my friends, his faith in me is faltering.
While I hesitate to question his wisdom—partly because he’s Chay, and I’ve always relied on his counsel—and partly because he read the bones just as clearly as Dace did—our opinions conflict.
“Chay, you once said that Paloma understood that great privilege comes with great responsibility. That she never dwelled on her tragedies, same way she didn’t gloat over her triumphs. She stayed steady, humble, and present, with one eye fixed on the horizon ahead . . .”
His eyes narrow, presumably remembering that night at Leftfoot’s, not so long ago.
“Well, that’s exactly the model I’m trying to follow. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have every intention of doing the right thing by all of you—and that includes Dace.” My hands twist in my lap, unsure how he’ll react but it needs to be said. “Everyone’s urging me to give up on him, abandon him without a single look back. I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”
I search Chay’s face, but he’s guarded, hard to read. So I wait for several nerve-wracking seconds until he forms a reply. “While that sounds good in theory, question is, are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”
“It’s all I can do. There are no other options as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, then you’ve made your choice.”
We exchange a long look that’s broken by the clatter of the busboy removing our plates and the sound of my cell phone chiming.
After taking a moment to read the message, I return to Chay and say, “What did you do with that tourmaline?”
He hunches forward, slides his elbows toward me, and meets my question with a wary gaze.
“I need it.”
His eyes grow hooded, his voice gruff. “Impossible. It’s not ready. It may never be ready.”
I shrug. “I still need it.”
“Daire, do you have any idea what you’re asking?” He rubs his lips together, shakes his head. “By giving you the tourmaline now, I’d be putting you at great risk. The curse Cade embedded runs deep. The hooks were the most intense Leftfoot and I have ever seen. It hasn’t been nearly long enough to be fully cleansed. We’re not even sure it can be regenerated.”
I pause for a moment, ensuring he’s finished, before I continue. “While I get what you’re saying, thing is, I’ve done a bit of my own research. Did you know that blue tourmalines are traditionally thought of as a shamanic stone? They’ve been used in ritual for centuries. Specifically for protection, but also to point the shaman or Seeker, as we’re now known, toward safety in times of trouble.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware of the irony of Cade using that very stone against Paloma.”
“He thinks that’s the punchline, but it’s not even close.” I wave it away, eager to leave the past behind in favor of a future that’s mine for the taking. “Blue tourmalines are also used to activate the third eye, as they provide clarity, direction, and enhance intuition.”
Chay shoots me an impatient look. “Daire, what are you getting at?”
“I need it. I don’t care if it’s not ready. I need that stone now. As soon as you can get it to me. We’re running out of time.”
“I can’t do it. I won’t risk you falling victim to Cade.”
I lean toward him, look him right in the eye. While I regret having to take this approach, his reluctance to help leaves no other choice. “I’m sorry to say this, but if you won’t give it to me, I’ll get it myself. I know you mean well. I know you’re only looking out for me. But this is one risk I have to take. With or without your blessing.”