In this land long ago, there lived—and still lives—a great spirit. We Numu believe that spirits live in all things: the water, the trees, the air we breathe, and have done so ever since the brothers Wolf and Coyote formed the world and its people.
But this particular spirit possessed great power. Sadly, it was also capricious, to be respected but not trusted. With its breath, it conjured hurricanes; with its steps, an earthquake. If it so wished, it could reduce a forest into cinders—and it had done so many times, solely for amusement, for the land belonged to it and it was the land. Thus it was called the puhadiipi, the sacred ground, the place where power dwells.
My people traveled from the Great Basin and settled across the coast. However, none could settle or even walk through the puhadiipi. Though the land was fruitful and rich with game, the spirit was selfish and cared only for its home. None were allowed in.
A time of drought and famine came, and there were not enough roots or game to feed everyone. The people grew desperate. They gathered to discuss what could be done. The chiefs of the Numu met and spoke at length. They agreed to send Honi, a mighty hunter and warrior, to the puhadiipi. Honi boasted that he would challenge the spirit in a contest of strength with the land itself as the prize.
So he went forth, and days passed without a word. Then from the coast came a roar like that of a giant beast. When the people came running to the sound, they found Honi's body lying in the grass at the borders of the puhadiipi, dead from a hundred claws and bites.
Again the chiefs met to talk about what could be done, and this time they decided to send Niyol, a wise shaman who wielded power of his own. He promised to trap the spirit in a flask and hurl it into the sea, and so he went. Again, days passed in silence. Then, one night, a magnificent aurora was seen in the west. The people ran to the borders once more. There they found Niyol, blind and dumb and gibbering mad.
In their final meeting, the chiefs agreed that there was nothing more to be done and no one else would be sent to their deaths. However, a young girl named Imala eavesdropped on the meeting, and all alone she decided to go and save her tribe.
She took no food with her, no water, nothing but a stone knife, with which she carved a rim-blown flute from a cedar branch. Without challenge or fanfare, she entered the puhadiipi.
Her first test was a terrible storm. It shook the forest and uprooted trees, flung snow through the air as if Grandfather Winter had returned. Imala took shelter among the roots of the oldest tree in the forest, and she waited for the storm to die down. When it did, she picked herself up and went on her way.
Next, a wildfire erupted through the woods. The trees formed a wall of flames, and there was no getting through. So Imala dove into the river and let the stream carry her deeper into the land.
Soon she arrived at the hills that marked the heart of the puhadiipi. Night had fallen, so Imala took shelter underneath a cypress tree and slept.
She awoke in the middle of the night at the sound of the wind and the tree shaking. Something had landed above her. She looked up and quickly wished she hadn't, for perched on a branch was an enormous winged woman. Her beak and talons were as steel, the beat of her strong wings a hailstorm, and her soulless black eyes stared down at Imala. The girl knew the Bird Woman from the tales: the Devourer, the Dweller of the Dark Wood, servant to the spirit. Not only could it see her, but its keen ears could hear her heart beating. And if her heart beat with fear, the Bird Woman would tear her to shreds.
Imala never knew a terror so deep as she did that night. So she did the only thing she could: she reached into her pouch and pulled out her flute. She played a tune from her tribe, one filled with the memories of her family and the joy of gathering together to tell tales around the fire. The music masked her trembling heart, and sensing no fear in her, the Bird Woman let her pass.
So Imala walked deep into the sacred land, playing her flute still. And her music caught the ears of the spirit. At last, the winds and forest animals quieted down as the spirit listened to Imala's music.
When she stopped, the spirit tried to speak to her. It was not a speech she could understand—it was the rumble of the earth, the moan of the wind, the call of the woodland beasts. Still, Imala did her best to listen, and when it stopped, she played her flute once more. And in return, the spirit listened.
On it went, and though Imala and the spirit never did fully understand each other, a bond was formed between them. The spirit learned that Imala was a thinking being, different from the other beasts in its domain. Imala understood that the spirit could not leave its land, and hungered to learn what it did not know.
Thus, Imala and the spirit made a pact. The spirit would live partially in Imala's body, so that it could begin to see life through human eyes. In return, it granted Imala a portion of its power, so that she may use it to protect what was dear to her. Imala became the first Incarnate.
Imala led the people to the puhadiipi, and with her power, her puha, she guided them to live in harmony with the land. When she passed away from old age, the land chose another one of the people—always a girl, always a soul that showed the same bravery and spirit as Imala. And so the Incarnate is never lost. She lives on, and so thrives both the people and the land.
"What happened after?" Max asked from her seat by the door.
Lulu looked up from the candle flame she was staring into. "Then, hundreds of years later, your ancestors came to this place. You know the history of Arcadia Bay and how it was founded. They mostly never believed in such a thing as the Incarnate, but she let them stay, and though it was uneasy, at first we had peace. Then the bad things started happening."
"Bad things?" Chloe asked from where she was leaning against the wall. "Like what?"
"Many things, but most had to do with one family in particular." Lulu scowled. "You know the one."
It was Rachel's turn to speak up. She was sitting next to Lulu, cross-legged on the makeshift couch. "Lulu, why did the spirit choose me? I'm not one of your people."
"It doesn't notice things like your tribe or creed or the color of your skin," Lulu replied. "I doubt it can even tell one person from another."
She nodded to Rachel. "But some do stand out. Like I said, the spirit selects its vessel from those closely resembling Imala's personality. And when my people were forced away from here..."
"The land chose who was close by that fit," Max concluded. "That's you, Rachel."
"Figures," snorted Chloe.
Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear. "That's the most unwanted attention I'd ever care to get."
"My turn to ask something," Lulu said, looking at Max. "You came from the future, right? Tell me again what happened that we had to send you back."
Max took the next few minutes to recount what she and Chloe had discovered during their investigations, the storm that she prevented to save the town, and the tsunami that came to destroy it anyway.
"I couldn't understand what went so wrong," Max said. "I thought changing the past—" she shot Chloe a guilty look, "making the sacrifice—would stop the disaster. Instead, I just delayed it?"
"Something did go wrong," Lulu said, thinking it over. "Did Prescott stop building Pan Estates?"
"Yes, for a few days. It was in the news. After he got Nathan out of jail, construction started up again. Did it have something to do with the tsunami?"
"I think so." Lulu sighed. "I think the spirit wanted to destroy Arcadia Bay when Rachel was killed and Prescott started building Pan Estates in the heart of puhadiipi. That land is sacred to us for a good reason—disturbing that place insults the spirit. Your actions, Max, may have delayed the construction. But when there was no permanent solution, it angered the spirit even more."
"It's really like that?"
"Like I said, the spirit is capricious. And vindictive. That's what the Incarnate is for—to act as a mediator between the land and the people, and sometimes to steer its vengeance. But if there is no Incarnate—"
"The spirit takes matters into its own hands," Rachel mumbled.
"That's fucking unfair," Chloe said. "It punishes everyone because of what Prescott and Jefferson did?"
Lulu faced her. "Let me put it this way—if some ants came and ate the food in your pantry, would you go out of your way to kill only the ones that did it? You'd be more likely to look for an ant hill in your garden and pour some boiling water into it. Well, that's what we are to the land—ants. It doesn't speak our language. It doesn't share our politics. And if we push it, it won't think twice about exterminating us. The only one that can alter its will is the Incarnate."
"Because she's its vessel," Max said. It was both chilling and fascinating to think that such a being existed, let alone living with them. Or rather, letting them live with it. "But why does Prescott want Rachel dead?"
Lulu's scowl returned. "The land isn't the only vindictive thing in Arcadia Bay. Remember the bad things that happened with the settlers? The Prescotts were behind the worst of them. The Incarnates of each generation punished them for their crimes. And Sean Prescott is no different from his forefathers."
Rachel said, "Lulu, you mentioned there were other Incarnates. What happened to the one before me? Why didn't she stop Prescott from driving your tribe out of Arcadia Bay?"
"What do you think?" Lulu's face darkened. "Prescott had her killed. Her name was Shelly Norman, a girl who lived all her life in Arcadia Bay. She was powerful like you, and she secretly kept the town safe. But one day, a gunman shot her through the window of her home."
"I remember that!" Chloe exclaimed. "It was an unsolved crime that happened like a dozen years ago. My dad used to obsess over it. He even collected newspaper clippings, trying to solve the mystery."
"My family knew who was behind it from the start." Lulu closed her eyes. "It was a mistake for Shelly to make herself known to Prescott."
"So the land found a replacement," Rachel concluded. "Me."
"You have one advantage that Shelley didn't. Prescott doesn't know who you are."
Rachel's brows knitted together. "That's why he got someone to hunt me."
Max gasped. "Jefferson. The Dark Room. So that's what the conspiracy was about."
Rachel fidgeted in her seat, and even Chloe turned her face away at the mention of that name.
"I think this Jefferson's supposed to be a lightning rod for Prescott," Lulu said. "He's probably meant to drug and trap the Incarnate in the bunker, so she would be easier to deal with afterward." She paused. "But something's different now."
"Yeah," said Chloe. "For one thing, we never expected other people with superpowers to show up. Who the hell are they?"
Lulu's jaw tightened. "I don't know."
"You said you saw them in a vision?" Max asked.
"We all did, my family. We saw them coming to Arcadia Bay. We don't know who they are or where they came from. We only knew we had to stay away from them. They felt...wrong. Like something lived in them that was unnatural—corrupted, even." Lulu shivered in her seat. "Even the county Sheriff, Skinner, is working with them, and he hates outsiders."
"What about the thing that's being built in the woods?" Rachel asked. She pulled out her phone and showed Lulu its picture. "The Theater. It's supposed to be the town center of Pan Estates. Is it linked to those two?"
Lulu stared at the picture for a long time. "I don't know either," she confessed. "All I know is that it's built in the heart of the puhadiipi. Prescott is keen on that. But what it's for..." She shrugged. "We've never seen it."
"And a Bacchanalia? Do you know what that is?"
"…I know it means a wild party, but apart from that, no."
Rachel's shoulders sagged. "There must be some reason for all this."
"You should find someone who knows."
Chloe spoke up. "Brooke's still working on cracking the encrypted files she got from that server. Maybe that's where we'll find answers."
"Good thinking," said Max. "We can check in with her in the morning."
Rachel paused for a moment, then raised her eyes to Lulu.
"One more question," she said. "Lulu, what am I supposed to do with these powers? Tuhudda said that Max needs to help me choose. What did she mean by that?"
Lulu gave her an incredulous look. "Haven't you figured it out? It's what every hero and king and chief and god that has ever existed had to choose: who lives and who dies."
A deafening silence reigned. To Max, the tiny shack suddenly seemed much smaller than before—like she was trapped in a cage full of tigers.
"What are you saying?" Rachel said. "Are you asking me to kill Prescott?"
Lulu neither blinked nor looked away. "If your life and the lives of your loved ones matter to you, you should get rid of that parasite before he does it to you. It's only a matter of time before he finds out who you are. And I promise, he won't stop till you're dead."
"And his son Nathan?"
"He's a Prescott, isn't he?"
There was something else in the room now—an intensifying warmth. That was when Max realized the candles had grown brighter, the tongues of flame taller, and the shadows on the walls starker.
Rachel's voice had grown quiet but no less powerful. "You're asking me to commit murder."
"What happened to Shelly Norman was murder," Lulu intoned. "What happened to my mama and gramma, that was murder." She leaned toward Rachel. "What I'm asking for is justice. You said you would help make this right. Were those just empty words to make me feel better?"
Again a prolonged silence, made worse by the warmth. Finally, Chloe pushed herself away from the wall and said, "Alright, why don't we table this discussion, okay? It's Rachel's choice anyway, yeah? And she doesn't have to make it tonight. Right now, we've got other things to worry about, like how to get this place secure and livable."
To Max's relief, both Lulu and Rachel broke off their staring contest. The candle flames tapered off and the room started cooling down.
"I better go," Rachel muttered, getting up from her seat. "I'll get some supplies for you from the store, then it's back to Blackwell before they figure out I'm gone."
"I'll go with you," Max offered.
"No, all of you stay here where it's safe. I can get to the shop and back in literally minutes." Her tone told Max that she wanted to be alone to think. There really wasn't much else she could say.
Before she headed out the door, Max grabbed her hand and gazed up at her. "Please be safe."
Rachel smiled down at Max and brushed her fingers against her cheek; her face carried such love and gratitude that for a moment Max was about to insist on going with her. But then Rachel let go of her hand and disappeared into the night.
Max sighed, then turned back to the pair left in the room with her. Lulu was still sitting by herself on the couch, lost in thought while staring into the candle flames. Chloe was pretending to be busy prepping a blanket so she wouldn't have to look at Rachel leaving.
For a moment, Max stayed where she was and watched her. Even in the candlelight, she noticed the crease between Chloe's brows as she handed Lulu the blanket. Well, why wouldn't she worry? They were up against something far deadlier than a serial killer this time. And no matter how Chloe tried to hide it, Max knew that she feared for Rachel too.
I made a promise.
Steeling herself, Max sat next to Lulu, waking her from her reverie.
"There's something I'd like to ask your help with, Lulu." She hesitated for a moment, then said. "Can you help me communicate with the spirit?"
Lulu stared at her like she had sprouted another head. "Weren't you listening to my story?" she blurted out. "You have no idea how dangerous that is! Why on earth would you want to do that?"
Max remembered the body bag in the ground and Chloe's heartrending wail, and closed her eyes.
I'll do anything.
"Because I also have people I want to protect," she said. "So please—help me. I need my powers back."
The forest had gone deathly still. The insects had quit their songs, nothing rustled in the leaves, and not even the owls called from their roosts. But all that was normal for Maja. Beasts tended to go quiet when they approached.
She tucked her sunglasses into her breast pocket and inhaled the night air. "That was a nice walk," she said, turning to her companion. "Although I think I brought the wrong shoes for this trip. Good thing you wore boots, eh, little brother?"
Alrik came to stand beside her, studying her face in the moonlight. He gestured to her left eye, then raised both index fingers and jabbed them against each other.
Maja rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Whatever that Indian rivjern did, it hasn't stopped me from using my power." She gingerly rubbed her brow. "It just—hurts to use it for longer than a moment. But I'm getting better, I swear. Soon I'll be as good as new."
Alrik shook his head and made a slicing motion with his hands.
"Oh please. Remember, we're up against a teenage girl. Hardly different from all the others we've faced. Now, let's keep going, shall we? I'd rather not take all night."
She was about to move on, but Alrik signed again, this time mimicking handling a camera. Maja laughed.
"Come now, he's been useful to us so far. What don't you like about him?"
Alrik clawed at his belly and scratched at his forehead.
"Disgusting? Alrik, please. So he has a fetish. We've seen much worse. And if it turns out he's lying, we'll kill him. Simple."
She walked beneath the shadows of the trees, dry leaves crunching underfoot. "We're close, Alrik. So close. Once we've captured her, we'd have completed our mission. Imagine how happy Father will be."
She reached back and took his enormous hand in hers. "Do you remember what he said when he took us from the orphanage? When we had our first hot meal in a long time? 'You will be my greatest creations, you will make the world tremble.' And he kept that promise. We were never cold or hungry again. He gave us value, he gave us purpose. We are his left and right hands.
"And now, we're finally going to repay all he's done for us."
She stopped as they reached the edge of the tree line, and they both stared up at the lights of the red brick building before them.
"Now, which window did Jefferson say it was?"
Alrik pointed to an unlit window on the second floor at the rear of the building.
"Alright then, little brother. Quietly, like we planned."
Maja leaped up and sat in the crook of her brother's left arm. With a running start, Alrik raced across the grass of the empty yard and leaped toward the window. His powerful legs lifted him clear over the first floor and he grabbed onto the eaves with his right hand, the wood crunching beneath his fingers. Maja reached for the window and pried it open.
With barely a sound, the pair let themselves into the Prescott Dormitory.