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then—open in her hands。 Her hands were tiny； her fingers stubby。 It was very strange to remember being
a child in this body。
They were on the first page。
“Do you remember where this is？” Dad asks； pointing to the old gray picture at the top of the page。 The
paper looks thinner than the other photographs； as if it has worn down—flatter and flatter and
flatter—since some great…great…grandpa took it。
“It’s where we Stryders e from；” I answer； repeating what I’ve been taught。
“Right。 That’s the old Stryder ranch。 You went there once； but I bet you don’t remember it。 I think you
were eighteen months old。” Dad laughs。 “It’s been Stryder land since the very beginning。…”
And then the memory of the picture itself。 A picture she’d looked at a thousand times without ever
seeing it。 It was black and white； faded to grays。 A small rustic wooden house； far away on the other
side of a desert field； in the foreground； a split…rail fence； a few equine shapes between the fence and the
house。 And then； behind it all； the sharp； familiar profile…
There were words； a label； scrawled in pencil across the top white border：
Stryder Ranch； 1904； in the morning shadow of…
“Picacho Peak；” I said quietly。
The thought had her so filled with yearning and excitement that the blank wall in my head slipped entirely。
I saw the whole journey now； saw her and Jared’s and Jamie’s careful trek across the country； always
by night in their inconspicuous stolen vehicle。 It took weeks。 I saw where she’d left them in a wooded
preserve outside the city； so different from the empty desert they were used to。 The cold forest where
Jared and Jamie would hide and wait had felt safer in some ways—because the branches were thick and
concealing； unlike the spindly desert foliage that hid little—but also more dangerous in its unfamiliar smells
and sounds。
Then the separation； a memory so painful we skipped through it； flinching。 Next came the abandoned
building she’d hidden in； watching the house across the street for her chance。 There； concealed within the
walls or in the secret basement； she hoped to find Sharon。
I shouldn’t have let you see that；Melanie thought。 The faintness of her silent voice gave away her
fatigue。 The assault of memories； the persuasion and coercion； had tired her。You’ll tell them where to
find her。 You’ll kill her； too。
“Yes；” I mused aloud。 “I have to do my duty。”
Why？she murmured； almost sleepily。What happiness will it bring you？
I didn’t want to argue with her； so I said nothing。
The mountain loomed larger ahead of us。 In moments； we would be beneath it。 I could see a little rest
stop with a convenience store and a fast food restaurant bordered on one side by a flat； concrete
space—a place for mobile homes。 There were only a few in residence now； with the heat of the ing
summer making things unfortable。
What now？ I wondered。 Stop for a late lunch or an early dinner？ Fill my gas tank and then continue on
to Tucson in order to reveal my fresh discoveries to the Seeker？
The thought was so repellent that my jaw locked against the sudden heave of my empty stomach。 I
slammed on the brake reflexively； screeching to a stop in the middle of the lane。 I was lucky； there were
no cars to hit me from behind。 There were also no drivers to stop and offer their help and concern。 For
this moment； the highway was empty。 The sun beat down on the pavement； making it shimmer； disappear
in places。
This shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal； the idea of continuing on my right and proper course。 My first
language； the true language of the soul that was spoken only on our planet of origin； had no word for
betrayal ortraitor。 Or evenloyalty —because without the existence of an opposite； the concept had no
meaning。
And yet I felt a deep well of guilt at the very idea of the Seeker。 It would be wrong to tell her what I
knew。Wrong； how？ I countered my own thought viciously。 If I stopped here and listened to the
seductive suggestions of my host； I would truly be a traitor。 That was impossible。 I was a soul。
And yet I knew what I wanted； more powerfully and vividly than anything I had ever wanted in all the
I could not separate myself from this body’s wants。 It was me； more than I’d ever intended it to be。 Did
I want or did it want？ Did that distinction even matter now？
In my rearview mirror； the glint of the sun off a distant car caught my eye。
I moved my foot to the accelerator； starting slowly toward the little store in the shadow of the peak。
There was really only one thing to do。
CHAPTER 10
Turned
The electric bell rang； announcing another visitor to the convenience store。 I started guiltily and ducked
my head behind the shelf of goods we were examining。
Stop acting like a criminal；Melanie advised。
I’m not acting；I replied tersely。
The palms of my hands felt cold under a thin sheen of sweat； though the small room was quite hot。 The
wide windows let in too much sun for the loud and laboring air…conditioning unit to keep up。
Which one？I demanded。
The bigger one；she told me。
I grabbed the larger pack of the two available； a canvas sling that looked well able to hold more than I
could carry。 Then I walked around the corner to where the bottled water was shelved。
We can carry three gallons；she decided。That gives us three days to find them。
I took a deep breath； trying to tell myself that I wasn’t going along with this。 I was simply trying to get
more coordinates from her； that was all。 When I had the whole story； I would find someone—a different
Seeker； maybe； one less repulsive than the one assigned to me—and pass the information along。 I was
just being thorough； I promised myself。
My awkward attempt to lie to myself was so pathetic that Melanie didn’t pay any attention to it； felt no
worry at all。 It must be too late for me； as the Seeker had warned。 Maybe I should have taken the
shuttle。
Too late？ I wish！Melanie grumbled。I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do。 I can’t
even raise my hand！ Her thought was a moan of frustration。
I looked down at my hand； resting against my thigh rather than reaching for the water as she wanted to
do so badly。 I could feel her impatience； her almost desperate desire to be on the move。 On the run
again； just as if my existence were no more than a short interruption； a wasted season now behind her。
With a sigh； I pulled the largest shrink…wrapped flat of water bottles from the shelf。 It nearly hit the floor
before I caught it against a lower shelf edge。 My arms felt as though they’d popped halfway out of their
sockets。
“You’re kidding me！” I exclaimed aloud。
Shut up！
“Excuse me？” a short； stooped man； the other customer； asked from the end of the aisle。
“Uh—nothing；” I mumbled； not meeting his gaze。 “This is heavier than I expected。”
“Would you like some help？” he offered。
“No； no；” I answered hastily。 “I’ll just take a smaller one。”
He turned back to the selection of potato chips。
No； you will not；Mel