Creation Dreamer: A Heroine Fantasy Adventure (Calpso Goddess Series: Book One 1)

by Gin Eborn

  But a voice interrupted it. Muffled. The water turned from gray-blue to a pale tan, and there was a face of a man through this veil. He reached his hand out to me as if he could touch me. Instinct made me jump.

  “Can you hear me?” he asked.

  “Yes. I hear you.”

  “You are Magpie Turnley, are you not?”

  I was reluctant to answer, afraid it was a Regys trick, but his eyes warmed and the cascade of his blond hair proved he was not from our plane of existence.

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Finally. I found you. Time is running out. You must come.” His voice faded in and out. Part of me thought it was pure hallucination. “Come…claim the Dream Lodge. It is time…The Earth’s…”

  “Who are you?”

  “You must come here. Hurry, before she—” The veil rippled and faded.

  “Wait. Where is here?” I pushed my hand through the water as it returned to blue. He was gone. It was gone. Just water. I pulled up my cord and swam hard and fast in every direction. There was nothing. I was alone.

  Maybe it was just a hallucination. Not enough food. The pressure of Fisher and me leaving. Never had I felt so much doubt all in one breath. I reached for my medicine pouch. It was vibrating. The man across the veil was real. But what could I do with a message from who-knows-where about something that made no sense to me? Still. His face. So earnest. And what the hell was a Dream Lodge?

  The Earth reached up and yanked me down to my knees as I walked out of the water. The quake, fully animated, forced me to crawl my way across the grass and to the path leading back to Dragon Flies. I had to get to Rosie and George before I left even though it would not be a welcomed announcement.

  The storm blackened in the sky as lightning struck the ground multiple times. Close enough to make my hair stand up on end. I made it over the rocks, close to the entrance, when I heard loud, crazy voices. Rosie screamed and there was the sound of breaking glass. I pulled my knife from my boot and walked inside.

  It was Regys. Two of them had George pinned on the floor. Bloody. Rosie wrapped her arms around me as I walked in. She was unguarded and shaking.

  “You leave him alone, you fuckers!” I yelled out.

  “No Maggie, you can’t.” George managed to speak in a raspy voice.

  “You have no right to be in here.” I was close to shapeshifting into my totem animal.

  “We have every right to be in here.” One of the men came at me and pinned me against the stone wall. His breath smelled like death.

  “This man has broken the law, and we are taking him in.” Regys scum. There was little my knife could do against his gun.

  “Broken what law?” I demanded.

  “He crossed the border walls and went into the condemned area.”

  My house.

  George looked up; it was worse than I thought. I heard Rosie gasp as she turned her face away. “Maggie, it’s all going to be okay. I promise you. They have nothing on me. I will be home—”

  The Regys piece of shit put his foot on George’s back and shoved him back down.

  Another Regys appeared from the back room. “And what the hell is this? You trying to pull a fast one on us?” He shoved something in George’s face. It was the amethyst I had put in the back. The fake stuff.

  “That’s mine,” I scoffed. “He has nothing to do with that.” I looked at George, hoping he could see every regret in my eyes. He could be put to death for that one.

  “It was by the repository. So it has everything to do with him.”

  The death-breath man felt my neck. “And who are you, exactly?”

  “I am—”

  “She’s my niece,” Rosie interrupted. “In from the Pits for a couple days. On respite.”

  The Regys with the amethyst walked up to me, nose to nose. I think it was that moment. The moment I realized how much I hated them.

  He sniffed me. “No trackers down there?”

  “Well of course we have trackers,” I smirked. He glared at me even harder. “Ours are put in so deep you can’t possibly feel it. They want to be sure it doesn’t accidentally fall out.” I held onto my pouch.

  The Regys stared at each other for a moment before shifting their attention back to George. Fisher was right. They don’t think. Just stimuli. The bird skull vibrated in my hand.

  The Regys picked George up, arms tied. Rosie reached out to him as they shoved her back. “We will let you know what the council decides.” They laughed at him as he passed out. “You just may have the virus now. You weren’t supposed to go outside the border wall. Now we have to test you all over again.”

  “I will kill you,” I snarled as I pulled against Rosie’s grip.

  “I love you,” Rosie called out and they were gone. Just like that. Rosie collapsed on the ground.

  My eyes moved slowly across the shadows on the ground to a figure poised in the Flies’ entranceway. A cloaked face with one identifying red curl floating out and into the dimming light. The Mistress had come.

  Rebekah came through the doorway and straight to me as we helped Rosie to her feet. I opened my memories so Rebekah could tap into the visuals of the night—the terror of George being taken away, the photograph, and yes, the replicated amethyst—which earned me an eyebrow raise as we got Rosie onto my bed in the back. Rebekah touched her with a blue light, and Rosie immediately went to sleep.

  “Calm yourself,” Rebekah said out loud to me. “This anger will never do.” Rebekah’s angled frame, awkward, irritated me even more in that moment of—some kind of noble compassion.

  “You call a meeting,” I demanded.

  “Maggie, I know—“ she started in with that crappy bullshit soft mothering kind of voice.

  “No.” A definitive no. “Now. I call a meeting now. It is my birthright to invoke communion with the gods, and it is my birthright to invoke the meeting of the West Calypsos.”

  We stood toe to toe as she pulled back her hood. I had indeed pulled a lever I’d never dared to in the past. But the time for fear and inaction was over. I was done. Her eyes pierced my brain. That was undeniable. She had the power to knock me over with just a snap of her fingers, but I was not about to budge.

  Rebekah rolled her tongue over her teeth and pulled up her hood, leaving only a faint hint of her nose and mouth exposed. “I will call the meeting. You do have the right. One hour. By the sacred tree.” She left without looking back.

  “One hour,” I yelled after her as my knees buckled and my ass hit the ground. “One fucking hour,” I muttered.

  The pain of a knife blade went through my head. I was pulled into a snapshot. The coyote was there, sliding my intestines out of my belly, somehow neatly sliced open. Her face was covered in my blood. The pain of her teeth replaced by the merciful energy of death. I let her eat. Take all of me that she wanted.

  “You’re here to kill me then?” I found a small voice. “I’ve always wondered how I would die. What it would feel like.” She did not seem to notice what I was saying. “Death must be better than this fucking shit place.” Silence. “We all have to do it eventually, right? Shed this body after, what? A year? 16 years? 27 years? Maybe even 40 years if you’re lucky. The sudden jolt of death just reaches out and grabs us whenever it wants. Our plans mean nothing. Our dreams mean nothing. Just one slice of the Regys blade and—gone. The sound of the metal moving through air and that one moment of pain so intense and so swift you don’t even know it’s happened until the blood starts pouring out. Warm, I imagine.

  “Or the PRM-TU1 virus—your body being ripped apart from the inside out. One molecule bursting at a time. Survivor grit wasting away as the taste of blood in your mouth makes you pray for the end to come.

  “That must be the real test, right? Letting go. Releasing into the unknown. The true test of a life. Can I—will I—willingly open my hand that is so deeply tethered into this physical world and just let it all go? Because none of it mattered anyway. What do you think?”

  Sile
nce.

  “Or maybe I just need to take my knife out of my gods-damned boot and wrap my hand around your fuzzy neck and twist until it fucking snaps in half like a twig? What if that is the way to change the world?”

  Not one glance at me. I leaned in towards her.

  “I will kill you before you have a chance to even think about sinking your teeth into my gods-damned flesh.”

  Pull out. Too deep. Just a snapshot. You have to pull yourself out. None of this is real.

  I heard a sound from the back room. And then another.

  Pull yourself out. You must come back to your body.

  There was a crash—the sound of something breaking, and a moan. “Rosie?” My voice was soft and forced. “Rosie?” I was back.

  “I’m okay, Maggie. George—he…my Georgie will be home before I can sing my next song.” She broke down into sobs.

  “Rosie.” I crawled to her. Shards of glass littered the floor.

  “I know. I know. I know.” Rosie looked at me, shaking her head. “But we are all living a fantasy, aren’t we? Pretending to be okay. Pretending life is okay. Pretending that still being alive on this planet matters.”

  “It does matter, Rosie. You know it does.” I touched her hair.

  “I don’t know any more.”

  “No. I don’t accept that. Not from you. We can’t give up. I will not give up. I will get George back.” Finally standing, I lit a candle by the bed.

  “You are a sweet kid, Maggie. But you know and I know that my George is lost, maybe forever, and I just can’t—I can not live here without him. He is all that is left here for me.”

  “I’ll get him back. You know me. I will find a way.”

  Rosie touched my cheek. Her breath shifted to slow and deep as she reached up and grabbed my medicine pouch. I heard it sear her skin, but she held on.

  “This is magic, right? If this magic of yours can help George—” Her voice was deep and steady, “I don’t care what your mom said. You do it. Whatever it takes. You go do it.” She let go of the pouch. Her hand was already blistered from the medicine burn.

  “Whatever it takes, Rosie. Now you get some rest. I have a meeting to go to.”

  “Maggs—” Her eyes drooped closed.

  “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll find a way. Your job right now is to take care of you and don’t give up. You hear me? You do not give up. I want you here when I bring George home.”

  “Well, you just go get Georgie and bring him right back here.” Her body went limp.

  I wanted to scratch my skin off. Get the smell of Regys off me. I ran out of the cave screaming at the top of my lungs. All that was normal was gone. Everything was upside down. I ran passed the sacred tree and out into the water. Each stroke with a deliberate force and each pull out of desperation. The storm was inside me.

  Fisher. He should be here soon. He is expecting me to go.

  I decided to feed again. I needed all the nourishment I could get.

  3

  Ay ya ya Calypsos

  The bell rang a bit off in the distance as the Calypsos, the West Calys, arrived, some smiling at me and some glaring. Not surprising, really. From the look on their faces, it was quite apparent that the news of the day was mainstream information. Each sister came and took her space in the invisible circle of protection extending out from the branches of the sacred tree. Rebekah arrived last, as is ordained by her title of Mistress, with the ritual bell in one hand and her staff in the other. She didn’t look at me but moved in angular zig zags to her revered place at the base of the tree.

  “Root to water,” she whispered from beneath her hood and passed her staff to the person on her left as each, one after the other, announced their full medicine names which opened the veil behind them revealing their birth shield. A birth shield was like a fingerprint. It revealed our ancestors and our lineage and, in a way, proof that we had the right to be in the circle. Birth shields do not lie. It’s impossible. They were created by our mothers and placed into our energy fields, forever linked to that lifetime’s form.

  My personal lineage held the teachings of the shields. My clan used the birth shields for divination, seeing both the obvious and the buried knowledge of skeletons long past. They were a container for power—a doorway to hidden spaces. No one had a clue how much unclaimed power was just out there floating around between spaces. But I did. There was power no one else was using, so I grabbed it whenever I wanted, as was my right. And I channeled this unclaimed power into shields so they could hold it for me until I needed it. Locked in. Waiting. I buried untold numbers for safekeeping. Our little family secret was that power comes to whomever calls it; it was just a matter of learning how and then, of course, being responsible for that power. That was the tricky part and it was the downfall of many in my lineage.

  Rebekah stood, taking her staff from the last person in the circle. I felt her looking at me—hell, I felt everyone looking at me. I was still looking at Chama’s shield. Something new revealed itself, but I didn’t have enough time to get the full image. She peered at me, and it closed behind her.

  What the fuck was that?

  “Magpie Turnley has called this meeting. Born Calypso and possessing a lineage birth shield, we honor her right. As you all know, her father, George, was taken this night by the Regys and charged with forging crystals and violating the wall boundary.”

  “It’s time to fight!” I refused to hold my tongue.

  Rebekah threw her energy at me like a dagger. “You will not speak. I will speak.” Rebekah did have the staff, so I bowed my head more to the title she held than to her. Defraying the tension seemed wise, but I was not about to leave council without having my say.

  “We all know the Regys has been growing in strength. Taking more liberties and leaving us all in hiding. The Calypsos from all the quadrants should now be under the protection spell of their Mistresses. And trust me, I am working very hard to build a full energetic net that will allow us to walk undetected by the Regys anywhere we go. And to open channels so we may communicate with the Calypso tribes in the other quadrants. But for now, I must charge all of you with following the protocol we have set up. We do not report to the blood takings and we do not register for trackers. We remain unseen.” There was a lot of nodding.

  Rebekah turned to me. “When something like this happens, I know it can make us want to strike. And believe me, the time to fight will come. It is code. Harm one of us, you have engaged all of us. But right now, the Powers have told me to stay the course. Our connection to the Celestial Kingdoms is paramount. They have provided us with the safety of this tree to practice and do ritual and build our strength once again. We live under their blessings. Here, at this ocean, we are able to feed undetected because of the Celestial Kingdom’s intervention. We are small in numbers, I know. But the time of resequencing will come! And we will strike when the Powers declare it and not a moment before. We honor the old ways. Root to water.” The chant erupted for a moment.

  She stared at me again with a long silence, I think to tease me into another outburst. I waited, biting my cheek. Rebekah sat and again passed her staff to the left. Ezzie spoke in alignment with Rebekah. “Rebekah has led us well all these years. I trust her now. I trust the wisdom of the Powers.”

  Then Willow, “I think we all need to reach out to our own guides and follow that wisdom. I mean no disrespect to The Mistress. But we all hold this circle, and we all must be led and bring our voices here as we have always done. However, I do have a hard time believing my guides would ask me to break our circle. In any way. Ever.”

  Pussy.

  She passed the staff to Chama who held gaze for a moment. “Well, you all do know how much I fooking love each one of you. I mean I would not know what to do without this circle to hold me and hold our tribe together. Our lineage must go on. And you know, I think we could all talk and pull and yank ourselves into a frenzied orgasm if we wanted, and as much as I love that,” she paused and shifted her voi
ce into deep, controlled tones, “I invoke my right to hand this staff to Magpie. I want to hear what she has to say, and I think all of you do, too.” There was huffing in the shadows, but it was allowed. Rebekah nodded to Chama as she brought me the staff.

  “Tell them what the shit is going on,” she whispered to me. “I am loyal to you, you old fooking Caly fart. But tell them about the mark. Tell them the truth.” She pulled me up and smacked my ass as she walked away.

  I took a moment to breathe. The faint whispers of the ocean centered me. The slight smell of salty air. It had only been moments since Fisher and I tasted each other. But pairs of Calypso eyes peering at me brought me immediately present.

  “It’s hard for me to look around this circle. I see how many faces are missing from my childhood. I remember the ones the Regys rounded up. We have no idea what happened to them. They may all still be alive, yet the Powers tell us to wait? What is that?”

  Rebekah lit a ceremonial fire, offering cedar into the night air.

  “I miss seeing Mary’s smile,” I continued, “and hearing her laugh. I miss opening my eyes at the bottom of Grandmother Ocean and seeing almost a hundred of us feeding and communing together. The light radiating was—hajone. Right? Pure beauty. And tonight we are twenty-three. Still hajone, but not as sweet. Rebekah, I honor you and all in this circle. I bow to the Powers who bless us. But I am troubled, because I know in my heart that we can no longer live on hope and the promise of a resequencing—one day.” A few sounds reached me that felt like agreement. “Under hope lies fear. And under fear has been inaction. I can’t just sit here. Protected—yes, thanks to the Celestials—but what about all of them?” I motioned out toward the Basin. “If we have the power to help the others—the ones who are not Calypsos, don’t we have an obligation to do it? Our Earth has been desecrated. And we do nothing?”