Trickster s Girl - By Hilari Bell Page 0,33
scored a 2.7 on the Richter scale and been felt for hundreds of miles. And when reporters asked geologists why no one had predicted it, the geologists had been very defensive about how reliable their equipment usually was.
He'd said he would meet her at Flathead Lake, so Kelsa decided to go there. And see what he had to say for himself. Then she would decide if - magic or no magic - she wanted to do something as big and crazy as biking to Alaska with a partner who lied.
Back on 93, the Salmon grew smaller and smaller and then disappeared as the road climbed into the high mountains once more.
The Montana-Idaho border station was at the top of Trail Pass, and Kelsa's fantasy of catching up with winter stopped looking so unlikely. Snowdrifts dripped, and meltwater ran down the ditches on either side of the road. The long white streaks of ski slopes decorated nearby peaks.
Kelsa was so angry with Raven that she presented her PID and crossed the border with barely a thought for the record of her travels being created.
It was only 4 p.m. when she saw the campground beside Bitterroot Creek, but the name struck her as appropriate and she was tired. She might have reached Flathead Lake before dark, but why should she put herself out to be on time for someone who lied to her?
The next morning, still seething, she ate a leisurely breakfast of energy bars, and then she packed up and pulled out onto the road. It was midmorning by the time she came over a hill and around a bend, and Flathead Lake burst into view.
Kelsa had grown up only a few miles from the marshy shore of Utah Lake. Camping with her father, biking with him, hiking together - she'd seen dozens, maybe hundreds of mountain lakes. Flathead took her breath away.
She could see only one end of it, for it stretched around a curve in the mountains that ringed it. Bluer than the sky, dotted with tiny tree-furred islands, it was the most beautiful lake she'd ever set eyes on.
She was so busy gawking that she missed the scenic turnout, placed there to allow drivers to pull off and gawk at the lake. She turned the bike and rode back up the hill on the shoulder, parked at the turnoff, and then just sat and stared.
When she'd finally looked her fill, Kelsa started downhill toward the lake. There had to be campgrounds there. In fact there were, but it took her the better part of the morning to find one that was state run, and therefore reasonably cheap.
She was sitting on a picnic table, gazing over the shimmering water and eating a slightly stale sandwich, when she heard Raven walk up behind her.
She didn't turn around.
"You're later than I expected." The cretinous bastard had the gall to sound miffed. "Did something delay you?"
"You might say that," Kelsa told him coldly. "You see, I was following the Salmon River. Like my partner told me to. Until it went in another direction entirely!"
Her voice rose at the end, and Raven winced. He must have gotten his clothing off her bike, for he was decently dressed. He could carry his own clothes now too!
"Sorry about that," he said. "I wanted you off the highway, and I thought following the river from its source sounded romantic."
Kelsa met his gaze and held it. "Why did you want me off the highway? And if you spin me some carpo answer, I'm walking away from this right now."
She could happily spend the next week here and make her way home with no one the wiser. At least until her mother and Aunt Sarabeth compared notes, and with any luck that wouldn't happen for a long time.
She might even tell her mother the truth when she got home - well, part of the truth. She probably shouldn't be too self-righteous about lying. But she wasn't about to admit that to the slippery bastard in front of her. Not when she finally had him on the hook.
He must have read the determination on her face, for his shoulders sagged.
"All right. You deserve the truth. I was trying to put it off until you were really committed, because I was afraid it might ... ah, discourage you."
"What truth?" Kelsa demanded.
Raven grimaced. "The truth is, not everyone approves of what I'm, we're, doing. I have enemies among my ... fellow spirits, I guess you'd call them. They - "
"Let me