Good As Dead

Epilogue

Tonight we remember the dead.

I mutter it out loud in Spanish as we pick a path through brush and rock, the packs slung on our shoulders lurching with us as we hike to the one of the few spots where the mountain's leyline rises close to the surface.

"Your accent sounds a lot better," says Odalis. Her face is painted to resemble a grinning skull, making her real smile hard to see, but I can hear it in her voice. I picked a wooden mask to wear instead, the bottom edge carved into thick, blunt teeth that end just above my upper lip. Even though the night air is cool with coming autumn, now and then I lift the mask from my face to wipe away sweat.

"Nervous?" says Nohemi, adjusting her own mask to make sure her hair hasn't escaped.

When I nod, it's Maya who answers. She doesn't wear anything on her face, paint or mask. "Don't be. Been a long time since any spirit reached through the fire to make contact."

After some more walking, the faint glow of flames grows visible through the brush, and Odalis bounds ahead, our lamps flickering over the outlines of vertebrae painted on the back of her neck. I hear voices, and after a few more steps, one becomes clear enough to understand.

"Desmond, you lazy fucker, you call that a fire? It's shit. You're shit. Yeah, this is for showing the dead we still remember them, that we respect their memory, and you think this is good enough? The wood is fucking wet. It won't bring them in, it'll smoke them out, you dick. Get out of the way, I'll do it. Yeah, get out of the fucking way."

I always thought I was good at swearing, but Odalis' new guy takes it to a level all his own. He's another Saint wolf; many of the traveling ones have visited here for the last four months, brutes and bitches, ever since word got out among skin witches about the pack's role in shaking down INKtech. After a night with Marrow, Kerr ended up being one of the ones who stayed.

Within a minute, we break free of the brush, stepping into the clearing. Despite the cool night, the flat, grey rock that makes up the area radiates warmth from the presence of the leyline.

Desmond sees us first, offering an easy grin as he stays a safe distance away from Kerr, who growls to himself while building up the fire. I'm pretty sure Des does everything half-assed around Kerr so he'll get pissed off enough to take over the job. His smile widens when he sees me, but that's all. Usually he tries to flirt a little, make a comment or two, but I guess even he respects the seriousness of tonight. Two traveling wolves who came here for a rest and ended up staying, a Kingdom bitch named Cassandra and an Amstar bitch named Jilly, hover on the other side of the fire, looking as nervous as I feel. They're even less used to Chetli rituals than I am, and my aunts go over to talk to them and calm their nerves.

While we all wait for the flames to burn bright and strong, I dig for the pieces of paper stuffed inside my jacket pocket. Each one has a name of a person I lost, written with a special pencil of packed bone char. It's pretty damn depressing to feel how many I have.

Maya is the first to throw in her names, expressionless as the rough little squares of paper burn and flake. Odalis also tosses hers in all at once, but Nohemi feeds the pieces to the fire one at a time. Desmond and Kerr only have a few between them, and Cassandra and Jilly don't have any, so soon it's my turn.

The paper with my mom's name goes first, and then the one with Gran's. I hear Maya huff quietly, probably having read the name in the first few seconds before it burned away, but I'm not about to feel bad. It's been four months since I learned the truth about my past, and I've had time to think. It hurt like hell, realizing Gran must have torn up or hidden my letters to the pack instead of sending them, and that she kept those lies all the way to her death, but I can't call her a villain and lock her out of my heart, either. I can't deny that I miss her. Some things just aren't that simple.