Page 19 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
The obsidian stone buzzed against Nora’s thigh like a second heartbeat.
“He’s real,” she whispered.
Opal gave her a look like she’d said the sky was blue. “He’s been waiting.”
She looked at Nora for a long moment, then added:
“Just don’t wait too long to choose. The land gets impatient.”
Nora left with the stone buzzing in her pocket, and her head spinning.
Outside, the heat slammed into her. She blinked at the sky, then back at the door.
Okay, weird shop lady. Sure. Guardian monsters and desert magic. Because therapy was too mainstream.
But why did it feel…real?
She didn’t go back to the house.
Instead, she lingered at the reopened diner, half-eaten huevos rancheros on a plate in front of her while Gloria eyed her like she already knew everything. Nora didn’t offer explanations. What could she say, that the wind spoke in riddles now? That a man made of bark and shadow had touched her in her sleep? That an old woman in a magic shop just told her she might be part of a cosmic desert mating ritual?
She stirred her coffee, watching the swirl of cream bloom and disappear.
“I ran into someone earlier,” she said after a moment. “A ranger. Out near the wash. Car stalled, and he just… appeared.”
Gloria didn’t look surprised. “Morales. I figured he might find you.”
“So he’s real? Not just another desert hallucination? Because I seem to be having plenty.”
“Depends who you ask.”
Nora raised an eyebrow.
Gloria leaned back in her chair, the vinyl seat creaking softly. “Some folks say he died out there years ago. Others say he just works for the land now. Never aged, never left. Just keeps an eye on things.”
Nora blinked. “That’s... comforting.”
Gloria gave a dry chuckle. “He doesn’t show up for just anyone.”
Nora didn’t reply right away. Just picked up her fork and took another bite, even though her stomach was still somewhere back at Moondust.
Gloria poured her a fresh cup of coffee without asking. “You look like someone who’s starting to believe her own questions.”
Nora smiled faintly, gaze still on the window. “Something like that.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, two women in a nearly empty diner, sunlight slanting through a dusty pane.
Then Nora reached for her bag and stood, slower this time. Less like she was leaving. More like she was turning a page.
She wandered the dusty streets, let the sun burn her bare shoulders, let the desert settle deeper under her skin. She felt the presence of the map in her back pocket with every step. Her stone thrummed like a second pulse. Everything was a sign now. Or nothing was.
She hated that she couldn’t tell the difference.
Her boots scuffed along cracked pavement. A roadrunner darted past a sagging fence post. The wind picked up, hot and sharp, whispering like it had something to say.
Maybe she was losing it.
Maybe the grief, the silence, the solitude were finally sinking teeth into her brain.
