I’m already passing that store—heading towards the bigger, regional supermarket that’s straight in front of me—when I see the symbols. Luckily, I do not slam on the brakes. I keep cool and make a U-turn at the next cross street. Then I go back the way I came and ease the truck into the parking lot, settling right underneath the sign.
I get out and look up at it, pondering the message of the symbols. The one at the front of the word has the horse pointing right and the one at the end of the word has the horse pointing left.
Which can only mean one thing.
There is a Guild Lounge inside this general store.
My heart thumps wildly inside my chest as I internalize what is happening.
There is aGuild Loungeinside this store.
What does it mean? Are they following us? Have they always been here? Watching Ryet?
Then I look around at the quaint little town with its covered bridge, and picturesque church, and general store.
Sure, just up ahead there are more modern buildings. The regional grocery store. A bank. A library. None of them built recently, but none of them exhibiting nostalgia for days gone by like this side of town is.
This side of town that is clearly being controlled by the Guild.
What should I do? Go in? Say hello? Ask if they have room for me on the mani-pedi schedule?
Or go back home to Ryet and tell him we need to get the fuck out of here?
And go where?
Besides, what’s the point?
If there’s a Guild Lounge in this town, is there any possibility at all that they don’t know exactly where Ryet lives? And given the fact that ten people were standing at the bottom of his driveway when we pulled up to it, is there any possibility at all that they don’t already know we’re here?
They know.
And if they left this symbol up, then they meant for me to see it. And if I was meant to see it, then I was meant to go inside.
I pull the door open—making a bell jingle over my head—and then scoot past a line of customers who are waiting to check out.
“Hello!” someone calls out. “Welcome to Mount Royal General Store!” It doesn’t come from the person running the register, he’s too busy checking out the line of customers. It comes from one of the interior aisles, a well-practiced greeting from an employee who is trained to the sound of the jingling bell over the door.
I scan the interior of the store and immediately, I see the next clue. Another horse and rider on the back wall. The horse is pointing left, so I turn that way and find another pointing down a hallway.
I draw in a long breath, then slowly let it out, trying to calm myself. I don’t have Zusi’s card anymore. It was in my purse and I don’t even remember the last time I saw that purse.
But I’m here. What else am I gonna do but try to go inside? Just go home and pretend I never saw it?
Not a chance.
I walk towards the hallway where the horse is pointing, and then, when I get there, I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is watching. If someone was, I could maybe talk myself out of this. But no one is.
So I turn into the hallway and stop, staring at the door just ten feet away. It’s a glass door, but it’s not transparent glass. It’s frosted, so while I can see shadows on the other side, Ican’t make out anything specific. It looks very modern with the stainless-steel accents and the card reader near the doorknob.
Very out of place. So out of place I start to wonder if anyone else can see it.
‘Probably not’ is my guess, but there’s no real way to check my theory.
Icansee it, though. And even though I don’t have a card to enter, I’m going to try anyway.
I walk down the hall, stop at the door, and I’m just about to knock on it when it is pulled open.
Suddenly, there is a man in front of me. I’m literally eye level with his neck. And when I look up, my mouth opens in shock. “Tristin?”
He doesn’t smile. That’s not Tristin’s style. He doesn’t frown either. He just narrows his eyes at me, then grabs me by the arm and pulls me inside, closing the door behind me.
