Fated

“Because you’re the Echo, that’s why.” She throws her head back, allowing great peals of laughter to boom in the sky—a cacophony of mockery that swoops down around us. Leveling her gaze once again when she adds, “Then again, as the Echo, your destiny is not only a strange one but a shared one.” Her eyes switch to mine.
    “I don’t know what that means.” Dace searches her face, his voice steeped with worry. “What the heck is an Echo? What’re you getting at?”
    She grins, her face so beautiful, so seductive it’s impossible to look away. Moving forward again, she cups his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his when she says, “Oh, but that is for both of you to discover. Just know, that when you do—I’ll be watching. I’ve been waiting for something like this—this is going to be good fun, indeed!” She moves away from Dace and turns to the Richters still hanging from their feet. “And whose souls have they stolen?” she asks.
    “I don’t know.” My gaze moves among them. “All I know is they don’t belong here. And if the souls are not reunited with their beings, then how will their bones find their way to you when there will be no afterlife for them to aspire to?”
    Our eyes meet, and it feels like something clicked, like I finally convinced her of what I know to be true. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Her face is so vague and unreadable, her mood so volatile, I’m braced for just about anything when she turns away from me, focuses hard on her snakes, and shouts, “Extract them—set the souls free and leave the bones for me!”
    They dart from her legs, slithering across the ground at astonishing speed. Winding their way to the line of undead Richters, they spring into their mouths and dive straight down their throats, before emerging with numerous glowing, white spheres they’re quick to spit out. The souls bouncing, soaring, winking out of sight as they go in search of their owners—all those poor people I saw in the photos. The sudden loss of energy causing the bodies to give way, dissolving to a mound of old bones and dust.
    With just one Richter left, she looks at me and says, “Perhaps you’d like the honor?”
    I nod, watching as she plucks a snake from her skirt and thrusts it toward me. Its eyes flaring, tongue striking—reminding me of the snake from my dream, the one that stole Dace’s soul—only this soul extraction won’t fail. I won’t let that happen.
    She grabs the freak, her bony fingers working into his hair, yanking back, as Dace pries his jaws wide apart, and I feed the snake in. My chest squeezing tight, my breath held fast in my cheeks, praying Paloma’s soul will emerge unharmed, delivered safely to me.
    Gasping when the snake returns with a glowing white orb delicately clasped in its jaws, amazed by how light and airy it is when it lands flat on my palms.
    The Bone Keeper’s voice hissing in my ear when she says, “You got what you wanted—now go! Leave them to me!” Her face transforming back into a skull when she takes in the bounty of bones at her feet.
    I do as she says, eager to get as far from her as I possibly can. Glancing over my shoulder to say, “There’s more. I have no idea where they are by now. But they’re out there, somewhere, of that I’m sure.”
    She kneels before her bones, getting them organized, sorted, appearing to ignore me, until we’re walking away and she says, “No matter. I will watch for them, just as I will watch the two of you. It’ll be a good show, of that I am sure. The Echo and the Seeker.” She laughs among her treasures. “Who would’ve thought?”

fifty-two
    With Raven’s guidance, we find our way back to Wolf. My excitement vanishing when I see him just barely hanging in there.
    “Leftfoot did what he could,” Dace says. “But without the soul, he couldn’t do much. Whatever happens next, depends on you. Have you done this before?”
    I shake my head. Gnaw the inside of my cheek. All too aware of how big the risk is. Failing at this means losing Paloma—an option I cannot accept.
    “Have you?” I turn to him, my voice sounding too small for the stakes I now face.
    “No,” he admits. “This is way out of my league.”
    “What should I do?” I switch my focus between the orb and Wolf.
    “I think you’re supposed to go with your instincts,” Dace says, his voice quiet but sure, and the moment our eyes meet, I’ve no doubt he’s right.
    It’s like