Deep Betrayal

in from underneath,” he said, “and we’re hiking down.”
    Calder took my hand and pulled me toward a brown state park sign that marked a break in the trees and a path that wove down a steep cliff toward the water. Cuts had been made in the side of the hill that were supposed to be steps, but there had been so much erosion over the spring, they were little more than places to catch some traction. I used saplings and pine branches to hold myself from skidding all the way to the bottom.
    The sunlit entrance to the path vanished behind me, and the shadow of the woods grew deeper. I stopped midway down and picked up a half-empty pack of cigarettes some careless hiker had dropped. The topsoil slipped below my feet and I stopped again, my ears picking up a high-pitched click . A stick snapping underfoot? I searched the woods but could see no one. Still, the back of my neck prickled. I could swear someone was watching. I started to ask, “Calder, do you—?” but he’d already reached the bottom.
    I sidestepped the rest of the way, catching my feet on lichen-covered stones. By the time I reached the rocky shore, my hands were covered in pine sap and embedded with grit and silt. But I couldn’t be bothered to scrub them in the lake.
    The scene blew my mind. Above us, the black river hovered at the crest before plunging fearfully to the jagged rocks below. The copper-colored water rolled and thrashed. Enraged, it roared and twisted through the gorge, transforming into a silvery spray that vaporized on the air. At our feet, the water seethed as if it were boiling.
    “Makes the hike down look like a wise choice, doesn’tit?” Calder yelled as he crouched at the water’s edge, turning over large, round stones and digging underneath. I watched impatiently as Calder proceeded to excavate the dark rich earth, coating his bare arms.
    I would have helped, but I didn’t know what I was looking for. After a while, I sat down on a rock. Minutes turned into an hour of rock turning and muck burrowing. Calder moved several yards away from me, raking through a layer of small stones with his fingers. Then he stopped.
    He looked back at me, then at the ground. I watched as he dug his hand into the soft sand and turned over a large stone heavily coated in black silt, but I thought I saw a green glint in the filtered sunlight. He thrust both arms down into the muck, elbow deep. “Holy … I can’t believe it.”
    “What is it?”
    “No way.” His fingers scraped at the ground, digging a hole in the saturated earth that kept collapsing in on itself, but he kept digging, finally exposing a long handle, decorated with agates and a thick copper wire wound into complicated spirals and coils.
    He tugged, huffing with exertion, the ground sucking back, until he fell backward and, like the boy King Arthur, held up his prize: at the end of the copper handle was a twelve-inch dagger engraved with ancient runes.
    “Are you kidding me?” I yelled, barely able to hear my own voice.
    “I can’t believe it,” he said again, turning the dagger over and over in his hands. “Geez, it’s got a vibration to it. Like it’s humming.” Then he made a swiping motion, as if he were plunging the dagger into someone’s heart.
    “Oh, no, no, no. You said it was our ticket in. Please tell me you’re not going to try and kill her.” I couldn’t imagine how, even armed, we stood a chance. “Is that possible? How do you kill a spirit ?”
    “You’re right. It’s only supposed to be used to identify myself, but if it doesn’t work, or if Maighdean Mara’s too far gone to care … Well, if I can’t reason with her, I’ll do what I have to do to stop her.” Then, seeing my expression, he said, “Don’t worry, Lily. I know what I’m doing.”
    Trouble was, I’d been able to read Calder’s face since the first time I met him. He might have been giving me his best reassuring smile, but I could see the lie beneath. Three days ago he hadn’t believed in this so-called Maighdean Mara. Obviously, this encounter wasn’t something he’d ever practiced.
    His smile faltered, and he crouched down to rinse the grit from the handle. The copper glistened in the sun.
    “So how do we get behind the falls?” I asked.
    “I told you. There is no ‘we’ in this. You’re staying onshore. If I’m not back in an hour, I need you to tell Maris what happened. It’ll be up to her if Maighdean Mara can be stopped.”
    Calder stripped off his