Belladonna

Chapter Twelve

Glorianna dashed from one section of her garden to the next. Looking. Searching. Listening with her heart and not understanding the messages coming through Ephemera’s currents of power.

This felt like Heart’s Justice, and yet it didn’t quite feel like someone had been swept away in the currents of the world to end up in the landscape that most reflected that person’s heart. This felt like someone crossing over a bridge from one landscape to another, but normally she wouldn’t have felt the resonance of a crossing because someone who truly didn’t belong in her landscapes shouldn’t be able to reach them. That was disturbing enough, but…

“Glorianna!” Lee caught up to her. “Glorianna?”

“Someone—or something—tried to bring the Eater of the World into my landscapes,” Glorianna said, staring at the part of the garden that held the access points to her dark landscapes.

“What?” Lee skipped back a step, as if he expected the Eater to burst out of the ground at any moment.

You touched a boy! You’ve got the ickies!

Lee’s skip-step made her think of that taunt, which she’d heard, in one form or another, in so many villages—a taunt that seemed part of the rituals that transformed a girl into a young woman. Somewhere during those years, “icky” changed into “interesting,” and after that, a girl’s life was never quite the same. Of course, the boy’s life was never quite the same either.

The moment’s amusement settled her enough to think rather than react.

“Someone crossed over,” Glorianna said, “but not in a customary way. And the Eater almost crossed over with that person.”

“Almost.” Lee wasn’t asking a question so much as demanding the answer he wanted to hear.

Glorianna nodded. “Almost. The dissonance would be clanging through the currents of power if the Eater had come into one of my landscapes.”

“It had slipped in before. Made an anchor point small enough to escape your detection until you were almost on top of that piece of ground.”

“I know, but this is different. I don’t think It was trying to enter my landscapes. I think…” Glorianna frowned. “A battle of wills. Maybe the person wasn’t trying to bring the Eater in. Maybe the person was trying to get away, but that wouldn’t explain the feeling of Heart’s Justice.”

“There is such a thing as spontaneous Heart’s Justice,” Lee said reluctantly.

Glorianna just looked at him.

“Bridges don’t talk about it, but we know it happens. If two incompatible people cross a resonating bridge at the same time—especially if one person is trying to force the other to cross over to an…unsuitable…landscape—Ephemera sometimes responds with Heart’s Justice, sending each person to a different landscape. In those cases, it seems that where the will is focused is equally important as what landscapes resonate with the person’s heart.”

“You have a mother and a sister who are Landscapers, and you’ve never mentioned this.”

Lee shrugged, looking wary. “It’s not talked about. It just seemed better if everyone believed Heart’s Justice didn’t happen unless a Landscaper initiated it.” Then he gave her a look that wasn’t brother to sister but Bridge to Landscaper. “Besides, doesn’t a kind of Heart’s Justice happen every time a person crosses a resonating bridge? When you cross one of those bridges, the landscape where you end up may be a place you’ve never seen before even if it does resonate with your heart.”

He had a point. And maybe it was one of those bits of knowledge that seemed so obvious it was assumed everyone knew about it. At least, all the Landscapers and Bridges who kept Ephemera balanced and connected as best they could.

Lee stepped up beside her and studied the access points to the dark landscapes. “What are you sensing now?”

“Nothing. I’m fairly sure whoever crossed over ended up in one of the dark landscapes, but that heart has vanished in the overall resonances.”

“A person who has died wouldn’t leave a resonance, and if there was a fight with the Eater…” Lee lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.

“Even so, I’d better get a message to Sebastian in case any…unusual strangers…show up in the Den.”

“I can do that,” Lee said. “You’re not going to feel easy about leaving the garden for a while.”

She wrinkled her nose and smiled to acknowledge the truth of that.

Lee gave her a one-armed hug. “Just remember to go back to the house and get something to eat. And bring a shawl or jacket back out with you. It’s getting too cool at night to be outdoors without one.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“That’s brother.”

“Sorry, I could have sworn the tone said mother even if the timbre of the voice was too deep.”

“If you tell me I’ll make a great uncle, I will wrestle you to the ground and push your face in the mud.”

Glorianna blinked. Clearly this wasn’t the time to offer an opinion about such things, even if she’d thought to say anything.

She couldn’t recall what she said to him in response, but it must have been satisfactory since he left, intending to stop by their mother’s house on the way to the Den.

“Well,” she said to the garden as she deadheaded flowers on a few of the autumn plants. “Well, I’m sure he’d be a fine uncle as long as he doesn’t depend on me to make him one.” Which made her wonder why he’d even be chewing on the question.

Which made her think of one reason why he would.

Glorianna grinned. Sebastian a daddy?

Then the grin shifted into a pout. Lynnea should have told her. Even if it was too early to be sure, Lynnea should have said something to her or Nadia. Because, obviously, Lee had been given a hint.

Would giving Lynnea a present of baby blanket and booties be too unsubtle a request for information?

A tremor went through the currents of power—there and gone. But it was enough to remind her that something strange had happened and it was best to be cautious until she discovered who had entered her landscape in an unexpected way—and why.

The Eater of the World huddled in a cave within the water landscape It had shaped long ago. Its coloring matched the stones in the cave; Its only movement was the two tentacles extending beyond the cave, undulating in a way that made fish think they had found a meal when, in truth, they were about to become one.

Simple minds. Simple creatures. It had nothing to fear from these things. It had no enemies in this landscape.

The male who had escaped It was dangerous. The male had powers that made It uneasy because those powers stirred old memories too vague to be useful and too strong to be dismissed.

Not quite like the True Enemy, whose resonance had filled the male’s heart, allowing him to pull away from the Eater’s landscapes. No, not like the True Enemy…but like the Old Enemy. The ones who had locked It inside Its landscapes.

But It was safe here. The male could not swim so deep to find It here. And the True Enemy did not know how to find It within Its own landscapes.

It was safe here. It would eat and rest. Then It would go back to the landscapes filled with busy human minds. It would listen to the fears revealed in the twilight of waking dreams—and It would take more things from the natural world and shape them into nightmares. Fear would have a name and become stronger for the naming.

Fear already had a name: The Eater of the World.

Pleased that It had remembered this, It left the cave. The Landscaper It had ensnared in the bonelovers’ landscape was probably nothing more than bones by now, but bringing those bones back to the cottage beside the hill would create more shadows in the people living in that village.

Especially in the hearts that would be pleased to see the bones.

Caitlin ran across sand that never ended toward a horizon that never changed. Light filtered through the bruise-colored sky, but she couldn’t find the sun, so she had no way to tell which direction she was heading, and the only assurance she had that she wasn’t walking in circles was the fact that she hadn’t crossed her own footsteps or the lines and squiggles she occasionally made in the sand with the hoe handle for the sole purpose of showing herself where she had been just in case she was walking in circles.

Feeling the stitch in her side flare up again, she slowed to a walk, breathing hard, craving water. But when she looked back, she saw the dark shapes heading toward her. Closing the distance.

Can’t, Caitlin thought as she stabbed the hoe handle into the sand and leaned on it. Can’t run anymore. Need water, need rest, need a way out of this place, need…help. Lady of Light, I need help.

She looked toward the horizon and let out a sobbing laugh. More dark shapes. More of those creatures coming for a feast. Coming for her.

Caitlin closed her eyes.

Even if she could continue to outrun them, what would be the point? Survival? For what? There was no food, no water. She was going to die here, one way or the other. And even if she could get back to Raven’s Hill with a snap of her fingers, living there wasn’t much better than being lost in this place. Yes, she had Aunt Brighid and the garden, but her life was as barren as the sand.

I don’t want to go back to Raven’s Hill. And I don’t want to die here. I need help.

The ground beneath her vibrated like she was standing on a giant tuning fork.

Her eyes popped open and she twisted her torso to look around, not daring to move her feet.

A long step away from her was a heart’s hope plant, so tiny it could barely support the single bloom.

Her breath caught. Her heart rapped against her chest. And she remembered what she had done in the meadow, what she had said.

Maybe, she thought. Maybe.

She glanced around. The dark shapes were getting closer. Couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t think about anything but what Ephemera could do.

Shifting until she stood a shoulder-width from the heart’s hope, Caitlin bent at the waist and held out the hoe handle with both hands. She rested the broken end on the sand; then, using herself as the center point, she drew a circle in the sand.

“This is my place,” Caitlin said as she drew the circle. “Within the bounds of this circle is a place of Light and hope. My heart dwells within the bounds of this circle, and creatures of the Dark are not welcome here. You cannot touch this ground. You cannot touch me.”

As she closed the circle and began tracing it again on the sand, she felt the world beneath her feet become soft, fluid.

Come on, Caitlin Marie, think about what you need here while you have the chance to get it.

Water. Food. A place that wasn’t this place.

As she finished the second tracing of the circle and began the third, she saw the creatures running toward her, and her focus almost snapped. But she held to the thought that she was safe inside the circle. She had to believe that. Had to.

The world beneath her feet was no longer soft. Whatever Ephemera could do had been done.

Caitlin bit her lower lip to hold back a cry of despair. No food, no water. Nothing but the tiny heart’s hope within a circle sketched in the sand.

She widened her stance. Shifted her hands on the hoe handle for a better grip.

Then she watched as the ant creatures reached the circle and disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the circle moments later. They didn’t go far before they began milling around, searching for something.

Caitlin slowly lowered her arms, letting one end of the hoe rest on the sand.

The creatures couldn’t see her, couldn’t sense her. Couldn’t find her. She was close enough to that awful place to see it—and them—but she was no longer there.

She sank to her knees and watched the ant creatures.

Slowly, she noticed the difference in the sand—and the difference in the air, which smelled of fish and seawater. Within her circle, the sand was no longer rust-colored. Scooping up a handful, she let it sift through her fingers until all that was left was a small shell like the ones she used to bring home when Michael took her for a walk on the beach.

She had done this much. Maybe after she rested a bit, she could try to shift herself from this little patch of Raven’s Hill beach to her garden.

She waited until they were gone, having accepted that their prey had somehow escaped. Then she stretched out beside the heart’s hope and gently brushed a fingertip over the bloom.

She didn’t have food or water, and she would be in desperate need of both very soon. But she was safe from the creatures, and even though she didn’t know how to take the next step, she had gotten back to the part of the world she knew. For now, that was enough.

It found the remains of the young male—one of the three boys whose hearts had embraced Its whispers to harm the Light that lived in the cottage. But It couldn’t find the Landscaper. She was here but not here. It could feel the resonance of the current of Light that had formed in the bonelovers’ landscape because of her presence, but It couldn’t find her.

A spot in the sand. Nothing there—and yet something there. This had the same there/not there feel as the garden hidden on the hill behind the cottage.

She was strong, but she had seemed unskilled, like the young ones at the Landscapers’ School, who had been so easy to kill. But she had known how to escape from one of Its landscapes. No one had escaped from Its landscapes before.

At least, not until that incubus had managed to elude Its attempt to bring him into the bonelovers’ landscape. The incubus lived in the Den, one of the True Enemy’s landscapes.

Then the male who had fought It at the village where the Landscaper lived. He had broken free by resonating with the True Enemy’s heart.

And this young female was somehow connected with the True Enemy because of the Place of Light they had taken away from It.

These human creatures were all connected to her, to Belladonna…the True Enemy. It couldn’t reach her landscapes. Even when It felt the male crossing over and tried to hold on to him, It had been pulled away to one of Its own landscapes. If the Landscaper found a way into one of Belladonna’s landscapes, It wouldn’t be able to reach her, either.

But there were Dark hearts in every landscape, and It could always reach them.

And one of them would be able to find Belladonna’s companions—and destroy them.

“What, exactly, am I looking for?” Sebastian asked for the third time.

Lee was ready to pound his cousin’s head against a wall. “I told you. I don’t know exactly. Someone who doesn’t belong. Someone…different.”

Sebastian looked down the Den’s main street, where two men and a succubus were staggering toward a brothel that provided slightly more privacy than having sex in the alley. He looked in the other direction, where three bull demons stomped out of a tavern, bellowing.

“Guess someone had a good night playing cards,” Lee said.

“Omelets all around,” Sebastian muttered, watching as three horned, shaggy heads turned in the direction of Philo’s place, where Lynnea waited tables and cooked a few “special” dishes.

“I hear Lynnea’s got the bull demons clearing out some of the brush around your place and cutting another path so folks aren’t walking through your back yard when they want to get from the Den to Aurora.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, stepping aside to let the bull demons stomp over to their favorite table and then wait politely for Lynnea to notice them. “She made a cake—with a buttercream frosting, mind you—and brought it to Philo’s during one of her work shifts. Gave each of the bull demons a piece of cake and offered to make each one a cake of his very own in exchange for clearing brush and cutting the new path. The negotiations got…noisy.”

Lee grinned. “I heard you almost had to lock up your own wife.”

“You hear too much. Anyway, they each get a cake for clearing the brush, and another cake for cutting the new path through the woods so we can maintain some privacy at home.”

“Did you get a taste of the sample cake when all this bartering was going on?”

Sebastian just sighed.

Lee laughed.

“So,” Sebastian said, watching Lynnea and the bull demons. “Tell me again about noticing someone in the Den who’s different?” When Lee didn’t answer, he turned and looked at his cousin. “Lee? Lee!”

“I have to go. Someone needs…” So strong. The need was so strong. “I have to go.”

He started to step back, to step away. Before he’d completed that first step, Sebastian grabbed his jacket and hauled him back so close that the only things separating them were Sebastian’s fists.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian demanded.

“I don’t know. It’s not a place. I don’t get a sense of place.”

“You’re the only Bridge Nadia and Glorianna can count on. Maybe the only one living in their landscapes. If something happens to you…”

“I know.” Lee tried to free himself, but even if he decked Sebastian, Lynnea was heading toward them—and the bull demons were on their feet, waiting to see what the humans were going to do—and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Teaser hustling toward them. He wasn’t going anywhere until Sebastian let him go. Unless he took Sebastian with him. All it would take was a stumble and a step back, but…

“I know,” he said again. “But I have to go. I’ll use my island to cross over to the place where I feel the need. I’ll be careful. As long as I stay on the island, I’m connected to Sanctuary. I can get back. I’m not going to take a risk that will put us in danger, Sebastian, but I can’t leave a heart out there when the need is so strong.”

Sebastian uncurled his fists but didn’t quite let go of Lee’s jacket. “You’re exhausted now, practically asleep on your feet. How long will this take?”

“You can’t pin a time on something like—”

The hands tightened into fists again. “How long?”

This isn’t about me being the only Bridge in Nadia’s and Glorianna’s landscapes. This is about family. “Give me four hours. If you don’t hear from me by then, figure I’ve run into bad trouble.” Not that knowing that would do you any good. If I’m in the kind of trouble that makes it impossible to reach my island, there’s nothing you can do to help me.

Sebastian let go of Lee’s jacket and stepped back. “Four hours.”

Using his unusual gift of being able to impose his small island over another landscape, Lee brought the island to the Den’s main street. He extended one hand back and felt the bark of a tree. One step back and he was standing on the island, vanished from the sight of the Den’s citizens even though he could still see them.

Slipping one hand into his jacket pocket, he fingered the coiled braid he carried everywhere. Resonance and need rang through him, confirming what he’d already suspected. He was about to let Ephemera’s currents of power take him to an unknown landscape in order to find the woman who belonged to a discarded braid of hair.

And he hoped she was worth the risks.