What We Bury, page 1
part #4 of Call of the Crow Quartet Series
Also By Alanna Peterson
When We Vanished
Call of the Crow Quartet, Book One
Where Shadows Grow
Call of the Crow Quartet, Book Two
Within Every Flame
Call of the Crow Quartet, Book Three
Visit alannapeterson.com for
a language glossary,
additional information
& resources
Need a Recap?
Cyrus is happy to oblige!
View a summary of the first three books at
alannapeterson.com/recap.
Contents
Also By Alanna Peterson
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Contents
Dedication
Part I: Spores
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part II: Stars
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Part III: Scythes
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Endnotes
Mental Health Resources
Acknowledgments
Leave a Review
About the Author
Copyright
Dedication
For Desmond,
who sees beauty
in the darkness
I.
Spores
1
Andi
Tuesday, May 17
BEGINNINGS OF A HEADACHE PULSED behind Andi Lin’s eyes. Even when she closed them, the trig problem still swam against that dark interior landscape, taunting her. Just solve me, it said. That was hard to do, though, when it felt like an enormous creature was trying to burst through her skull.
Andi closed her laptop and flopped face-down on her bed. Another stupid day cooped up in her grandparents’ house in Berkeley trying to prep for her online trig final while fending off headaches. How much longer could she stand this boring routine?
At least it was a Tuesday. Mystery Box Day. That was always something to look forward to: the delivery of a mysterious package she wasn’t allowed to open.
Her life was so fun.
Even though she knew staring at screens wasn’t going to help her headache, she propped her phone against the wall and called Naveed.
His face appeared on her screen. “Andi! I’m out here tilling the field, so reception might be spotty—I’ll head back to my cabin if the call gets dropped. Can you hear me okay?”
“Yeah, seems fine to me. Is it not a good time? I could call back later.”
“No, no, I’m ready for a break. What’re you up to?”
“Trying to study for my trig final, but I’m getting a headache. I swear, it’s like a horror movie inside my brain. Like something’s trapped in there trying to get out.”
“Ah, I know the feeling.” He smiled wistfully. “Nate’s like that sometimes. Not the same thing, I know, but still. Does your headache-inducing-brain-prisoner have a name?”
“Hmm.” In a weird way, Andi supposed she’d rather have a brain-prisoner who just caused physical pain, instead of the psychological abuse Nate inflicted on Naveed. “Maybe… I think her name is… Barb.”
“Damn you, Barb! Leave Andi alone!” Naveed shook his fist. “Oh wait, I know what might help. I’m tilling with the scythe today, and it’s the best ASMR. The sound of the blade cutting through the grass… it’s so good. Here, hold on a sec and I’ll get set up. Just close your eyes and listen.”
Andi did close her eyes while he jostled his phone around, but then she opened them again. Naveed stood at the edge of a field of tall grass, his service dog Koffka resting off to the side next to Gretchen and Frida’s dog, Astro. Naveed positioned the scythe with the blade near the base of the grass, then started swinging, rhythmically twisting his body from side to side. All she could hear was the rustle of falling grass and the birds chirping and the occasional contented dog-sigh.
The scene was so idyllic that she wanted to step through the screen and join him there. But it wouldn’t be long until they were back together again. On Friday, her mother would drop her off at the Oakland airport and she would fly back to Seattle. She couldn’t wait to step off the plane and rush to the other side of security, where Naveed would be waiting.
She wanted to stay focused on that moment. Their happy reunion. If she only thought of that, she wouldn’t have to think about the reason she was returning to Seattle in the first place.
After a few minutes, Naveed set the scythe down and picked up his phone again. “Anyway, you get the idea.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “It’s getting warm out, though. Gonna sit in the shade for a minute.”
“That was nice,” Andi said. “But it just makes me want to be there with you.”
“Only three more days! I can’t wait to show you around Zetik Farm. You’ll love it here.” He sat at the base of a shady tree. Koffka trotted into the frame and settled in beside him.
“I can’t wait either.” Andi was pretty sure Naveed remembered that she’d been to Gretchen and Frida’s farm before, and the circumstances under which she’d visited—it was hard for her to even think about that place without remembering her narrow escape from Dr. Tara Snyder’s research lab—but she decided to breeze over it for now. Especially because it reminded her that, in less than a week, she’d have to sit in the same courtroom as Tara Snyder during the trial.
She watched Naveed closely, his curly black hair that was veering into shaggy territory, his dark beard, the streak of mud on his shirt, Koffka’s head in his lap, his fingers tangled up in the German shepherd’s fur. His eyes looked a little distant, and she wondered if he was going down the same road as she was.
Andi decided to change the subject. “Did you get the email about dinner with Vanesa on Friday? You’ll come with me, right?”
“I guess… actually, though, I was kind of hoping we could eat with my family that night. Kourosh said he’d cook, and Roya can’t wait to see you. I’ll be with Vanesa most of Saturday anyway—she’s got me booked for all these Blood Apples promo interviews before the premiere.”
“I know, but I helped organize the dinner. I should go. I want you to meet Akilah and Laurel, too. And I’m sure everyone wants to see you—it’ll be a good chance to celebrate before opening night.” Andi had coordinated this meeting between Vanesa and several of the organizers she’d worked with the previous spring, since they wanted to help promote the documentary film and tie it in with the work their artivist collective was doing.
“All right. But can we do Sunday dinner at our house?”
“Deal. I’ll RSVP for both of us,” said Andi. “I can’t believe this is really happening. Our documentary—well, not ours, but you know what I mean—is premiering at the Seattle International Film Festival. That’s huge!”
“I know. I can’t wait until everyone hears your music.”
“And I can’t wait until everyone sees you on the big screen.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. Everyone gets to watch me have a mental breakdown. Should be real fun.”
Andi didn’t know how to respond to that. She’d only seen the rough cut, and in her opinion Vanesa had portrayed Naveed sensitively, but she wasn’t sure he would feel the same way. He’d be seeing it for the first time at the premiere on Saturday. “It’s not that bad. Really,” she finally said. “Don’t judge it until you’ve seen it.”
“Yeah. Solid advice. Well, guess I should get back to work.”
“Are you sure?” Andi didn’t want to end on that note.
“This grass isn’t going to cut itself, and it’s already so warm today. Better just get it done now.”
“Okay. I’ll try you later tonight.”
“Mmm hmm. Talk to you then. Bye.” He ended the call.
Andi sighed, wishing she hadn’t brought up the film. Instead of stewing on it or trying to read his mind, though, she decided to invoke the pact they had made when they started going out: no surprises, no secrets. #ns2, she texted, using their shorthand for the pact to remind him to be open with her. Even tho I think Vanesa did a good job on the movie, I know this premiere is going to be hard. Don’t worry. We’ll get thru it together & you can vent all you need afterwards.
Thank you, he replied. Obviously I’m not looking forward to it but I’m so glad you’ll be there with me. Oh btw i hope your headache feels better soon, tell Barb to go chill ok?
She replied with a h
Now, Andi texted Mahnaz a “partly cloudy” emoji; they had worked out a code where his moods were translated into weather-related symbols. Mahnaz quickly responded with the cherry blossom that, between them, meant “thank you.” Anyone looking at the string would probably just think they were discussing the forecast or something.
Andi was about to get back to her unsolved trig problem when the doorbell rang. Probably the Mystery Box Delivery Man. She was tempted to take her time getting downstairs—she knew from experience that Box Man would wait—but Ah-ma was asleep and she didn’t want it to ring again. Her grandmother was still going through treatment for the colon cancer she’d been diagnosed with in December. Since Andi’s mother had just started a new job at UC Berkeley, and Ah-gong was busy running his tea business Lu Yu, Andi had Ah-ma duty during the day.
She grabbed her keychain and headed downstairs, tightening her fingers against the small canister of pepper spray. Just in case. After being assaulted in February, she had been taking jiu-jitsu classes but wasn’t yet at the point where she felt confident taking down attackers. A little chemical back-up never hurt.
She peeked through the side window and saw a young white guy standing outside holding a package. Yep, just Box Man. She relaxed her grip on the keychain and opened the door.
“Package for Betty Lin,” he said.
“I’ll get it to her. Thanks.” Andi took the package and closed the door. She locked the deadbolt and set the box down on the kitchen table. It was nondescript and white, empty of any company logos, with Ah-ma’s name and address written by hand in neat script. There was no return address.
Every week, these packages came. Always like this, delivered not by shipping companies, but by private courier. Ah-ma had made it clear that she wanted to handle them herself, so Andi stepped away, intending to head back upstairs. But a thought flitted into her head: if she peeled the tape off carefully, she might be able to see what was inside and close it back up without Ah-ma ever knowing….
No, she told herself. Bad idea. Ah-ma probably has a good reason for not telling me what’s in the Mystery Box. Go back upstairs and forget about it.
But that was the thing. She was stir-crazy and lonely and bored—so incredibly bored—and she wanted something to happen.
Or, more accurately: she wanted to make something happen.
Forget it, the sensible part of her said. MYSTERY BOX! the insatiably curious part yelled. Now’s your chance. OPEN THE MYSTERY BOX!!!!
Great. Now it was all she could think about. There was no way she’d be able to concentrate on trig with Barb tearing away at her brain and Mystery Box – Mystery Box – Mystery Box repeating on a loop.
So, filled with an uncomfortable mixture of guilt, excitement, and dread, Andi carefully pulled the tape. It didn’t come off cleanly, but if she covered it up with a fresh piece of packing tape, she figured it wouldn’t be too noticeable.
She opened the flaps. Atop a pile of crumpled brown paper was a letter. Without hesitating, she unfolded it to find a photograph enclosed inside, along with a short note. Thanks for the feedback, the note read. I’ve made a few adjustments. Keep me posted on how it goes. Also, I was cleaning out files and found this, thought you and Henry might appreciate the memento of the day it all began.
Andi turned her attention to the photo, a snapshot of four smiling men holding up champagne glasses, as if captured mid-toast. Judging from the glossy wood behind them, it might have been taken in a fancy bar, or a hotel lobby or something. But that was not the first thing Andi noticed, because she recognized two of the men.
There, standing on the far right, was Ah-gong. A badge printed with a logo she didn’t recognize dangled from a lanyard around his neck.
And right next to him was—
She had to do a quick google to make sure. Her memory had been steadily improving over the past month, but she still didn’t trust herself to remember everything correctly. This was one case, though, where she hoped her instinct wasn’t right.
But the image search confirmed that she was correct. The man was Alastor Yarrow. Alastor, who had headed both a supplement company and a spiritual retreat center on Lopez Island. Alastor, who had nearly killed both Cyrus and Naveed before his own wife killed him.
So why the hell was Andi’s grandfather, Henry Lin, hanging out with that man? She was tempted to write it off, like maybe they had just met once and then gone their separate ways, but the note said the picture was taken “the day it all began.” The day what began?
Andi hastily took a picture of the letter and photo with her phone, then folded the letter back up. She was just about to remove the brown paper when she heard a creak on the stairs behind her.
She threw the letter and photo back into the box and closed the flaps before turning to see Ah-ma making her slow descent down the stairs.
No use trying to re-tape the box now. Still, it was probably best to act like she had no idea what was inside until she could gauge Ah-ma’s reaction. “Um, you got a package,” Andi said in what she hoped was a casual tone. “I was just opening it for you.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Ah-ma sounded annoyed. “I’m thirsty—could you please get me something to drink?”
Andi retreated to the kitchen and pulled a glass off the shelf. She took a few deep breaths, but even so her hand shook as she filled it with water from the tap.
When she returned to the dining room table where Ah-ma was sitting, the package was nowhere in sight.
“What was in the box?” Andi asked as she set the glass down in front of Ah-ma. She wasn’t sure this was the best move, but hopefully Ah-ma would take it as a hint that she hadn’t seen anything.
“Nothing interesting. Just tea samples.”
Had Andi not seen the letter, it would have been a plausible answer. Ah-ma did help out a lot with Lu Yu. Or at least she used to, before she got sick. But if it was just tea, why all the secrecy? Why would the letter say, keep me posted on how it goes?
“Tea sounds nice. Do you want to try one of the samples?” Andi said. She couldn’t help herself. “I could brew some for you.”
“Not right now. I think I’ll go lie down. Want to watch Fresh off the Boat with me?”
“Sorry. I’ve got to get back to studying.”
After helping Ah-ma get installed on the couch, Andi returned to her bedroom and closed the door. She studied the picture on her phone for a minute, staring at the other two men. She felt like she’d seen the older-looking one somewhere before, but try as she might, she couldn’t place him. The younger man, who had sandy-blond hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee, seemed non-descript, the kind of person who could blend in anywhere.
She couldn’t keep this to herself. She had to tell someone.
Despite no surprises, no secrets, she quickly dismissed the idea of sharing this with Naveed. Not yet, anyway. He had enough on his mind between the trial and documentary, and she didn’t want to upset the precarious balance of his mental state.
Cyrus, though, would be able to handle seeing the photo, and wouldn’t think any less of Andi because of her grandfather’s apparent collusion with Alastor. Besides, Cyrus had ways of investigating stuff like this. So she texted the photo to him, adding, Hey Cy, I need your help figuring out who these guys are.
But right after she sent it, she realized with embarrassment that in her haste, she had accidentally sent it to Mahnaz, since she’d had that string open. Oops! Never mind. Sent by mistake, she quickly wrote.
Then she sent it to Cyrus for real, along with a photo of the letter and a revised message: That’s my grandpa on the right. You know who’s standing next to him. Do your magic. Who are the other 2 guys?
