Spark Rising by Kate Corcino Page A

her father’s body had been found, and the devastated, blaming eyes of her sister, rose up like dark water. She fled from it, as she always did, blinking away from her thoughts before the memory could suck her back down into the drowning depths of grief.
    Her head jerked up. The light inside the little house had dimmed with evening, and Gloria entered through the front, a basket of eggs in one hand and an earthen jug in the other. She caught Lena’s attention.
    “Light the lamp,” she said. “My hands are full of your dinner. Then we’ll talk.”
    At home, Lena would simply spark it, but she couldn’t spark anything until she’d grounded. She rose to use tongs to pull an ember from the little round-bellied stove and lit the wick of the fat lamp on the table in the middle of the room. When she was done, she returned the ember to the stove.
    “Put water on to boil. And heat the comal,” Gloria told her, referring to the large flat frying pan. She dipped out blue cornmeal and mesquite flour and mixed it in a chipped bowl. While she dropped spoonfuls of batter onto the hot comal and used her strong fingers to break apart pinon nuts and scatter them over the cakes, Lena set the table.
    In moments, Gloria had flipped the pancakes onto the waiting plates and they were sitting together, a covered bowl of honey on the table between them. The crunch of the bits of toasted pine nuts and the distinctive tangy sweet flavor of the mesquite flour improved Lena’s mood.
    Of course, her bliss might be related to her terrible sweet tooth. She pinched the last bite of the delicious cakes between her fingers, swirled it in honey, and shoved it into her mouth. She licked her fingers.
    Plenty of mesquite flour and honey in storage up at the house. I should barter for more baking powder and cornmeal.
    The realization that she didn’t have plenty of anything anymore hit like a slap in the face. How could she plan her cooking? It wasn’t even safe to return home. The delicious dinner settled like a hard ball in her stomach.
    Gloria spoke to her in English now, the words coming in the odd, jerking cadence of a native speaker of Keresan. “It is hard to think of making a choice now, but you have to decide whether you are staying or going.”
    Lena swallowed. “Am I allowed to stay here?”
    Gloria made a small shrug. “It’s not for me to decide. Before you ask, you should think about what you ask of us.”
    Lena stared at her. “I’m a hard worker. I would never be a burden, and I can help—”
    Gloria shook her head. “It isn’t food and shelter that will cost us. It will be defending our friend from those who return for her.”
    Lena’s shoulders slumped again, and her gaze returned to her empty plate with the bits of cake and nuts sticking in honey.
    “They will return for you, Lena. You shine as bright as the Sun, and they want your light. They would do anything to possess it. They will come.”
    Lena jumped at the faint knock at Gloria’s door. At a Keresan word from Gloria, a boy of about twelve entered from the deep of night. Lena recognized the Keresan words for one man , “ishk hachtzeh.” Reyes? Back again already? Was she already bringing unwanted guests to the Kewa? Gloria and the boy spoke for a moment before she turned to Lena.
    “There is a man who says he is a friend come to warn you of danger. He says it’s important that he speak with you.”
    Lena waited. One didn’t just get up and go when Gloria was speaking. Gloria held her gaze for a moment. When the woman spoke again, she spoke quietly, like always.
    “You have to make a decision soon.”
    “I know,” she said. “And I know I should go away somewhere. But this is my home. It’s all I know.”
    “Fear of the unknown is a reason to go, not stay.” Gloria’s voice had taken on a chiding tone. “If you stay, it should be because you love a place, not because you’re afraid to move on.” She slid her hand along the tabletop. “If you’re