by C. E. Murphy
“It happened and it didn’t. We changed it an’ the first way got cut out, but it’s still hanging around main’ an extra ripple in the current. This was easier ta understand when it was Jo messin’ with time, not myself, Horns.”
“Joanne has never walked so closely along her own path. This is more complex than what she has done.”
“But she’s the shaman!”
“And you the mortal man. Don’t discount the power in an ordinary life, Master Muldoon.”
I thought of Annie the same way I always did the past few years, with an ache an’ a squeeze in my heart, an’ I said, “Don’t reckon there’s much chance of that,” more to myself than Horns. We’d ridden toward the stars while we were talking, but not so high as we’d gone before. The wind was soft an’ warm, an’ the path we followed was made of moonlight streaming across the clouds. We were moving faster than sense could make, already going ‘round the curve of the world. Heading back to Ireland, so we’d be closer to where we’d left Jo.
I was about to ask Horns how we were gonna find her when the sword on my hip lit up blue an’ started to fade.
Horns snarled, “Do not let it go,” and grabbed hold of my horse’s reins as hard as I grabbed onto the sword. The sky flickered around us once an’ shut off, like we were moving through the space of a heartbeat. The Hunt disappeared, all ‘cept me an’ Horns, an’ in the next heartbeat we were somewhere else. The sky up above was blue, an’ down below was the ruins of a castle on the tallest hill for miles. Then it all went black again, another in-between heartbeat, an’ when we came out it was sunset at that same castle, except it wasn’t fallen-down an’ the whole world’s horizons were too close.
Cernunnos made a sound kinda like the one Annie’d made when she saw him, like recognition and anticipation. I started to ask, but he put his hand out to shut me up. For a second I couldn’t talk, which was a lousy trick, him throwin’ his weight around like that, but then the screaming started and I was just as glad I hadn’t said a word.
It was like every scream I’d ever heard in Korea turned all the way up and played all at once. It went straight under my skin, making me want to run and fight back all at once. The sword yanked me toward the castle, an’ the castle started falling apart, like the screams were attacking it, too. I figured if the sword wanted in there, that was where Jo was, so I kicked the brown’s sides and rode for the western wall of the castle, where it was falling the fastest.
I came around the corner hard, the setting sun at my back and turning the dust from falling rock into a wall of gold that I couldn’t see through. Jo’s sword was pulling me so hard I could barely stay in the saddle, an’ I took it out to smack one of the smaller stones outta my way.
Its light cut through the dust, lettin’ me see a blond woman dressed all in white, standing with her back to me. The air was vibrating with her screams, pulsing with ‘em while the building fell down around her. Joanne was a couple feet further on, barely on her feet, looking like the screams that were bugging me were about to shatter her.
The blonde never knew I was comin’. It was just a couple of long strides for the brown mare, an’ I drove the rapier into the woman’s back.
Her screaming cut off with a squeak, an’ she slid off the sword without making any more sound. Joanne went from looking about to shatter to being rigid, the kinda rigid that said she was in more danger of falling apart now than she’d ever been before. Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen ‘em, tears rolling down her cheeks, an’ she wasn’t breathing. She was just staring at me, not even at the lady I’d killed, but me, like she’d never laid eyes on me before. She didn’t blink while I looked down at the dead woman.
The dame was degrading like a salt sculpture in water. Her dress shriveled, an’ so did her hair, an’ it went faster and faster, until I figured she was prob’ly dead for good, and looked back at Joanne.
My poor girl still hadn’t moved, still wasn’t breathing. I didn’t know what she’d been through while I’d been gone, but it didn’t look like any of it had been good, an’ it was gonna end with her passing out if she didn’t take a breath soon. I figured I better do something, so I called up my best wicked grin, slid off the mare, an’ opened my arms.
“H’lo, darlin’. Did I miss anything?”
~0~
The Rising Green
“The Rising Green” takes place at the same time MOUNTAIN ECHOES (Book Eight of the Walker Papers) ends, but contains no spoilers for that book.
The pull came from under her skin, a faint itching sensation that wouldn’t go away. It reminded Suzy of the chicken pox, which she hadn’t had until she was eleven, so she remembered it all miserably well. It wasn’t that bad, but it was enough to wake her up. Suzy crunched her eyes shut and flung one elbow over them, rubbing her forearm with the other hand. It itched. She ignored it, or tried to. Then she lifted her elbow and looked at her clock, illuminated by a soft green glow.
A quarter to midnight. Suzy dropped her elbow over her eyes again. The green glow lingered behind her eyelids. She was supposed to be up in six hours for an early-morning study group, preparing for a test the next afternoon. She didn’t need the study group. She was going to ace the test anyway. But study groups were the only thing Aunt Mae would let her out of the house for, ever since The Halloween Incident. It had been almost six months, and Aunt Mae still referred to it that way. The Halloween Incident.
Suzy’s parents had never managed to keep her grounded for more than a weekend. Not that she was doing that thing, the omg my parents were so much cooler than you thing, because although it was true, it was also true that just because Suzy was fifteen didn’t mean she was a complete asshole. Her aunt, her father’s sister, had stepped up like crazy when Suzy’s parents were murdered, and she was doing the best she could with suddenly being a parent.
It was also true that while her parents had been alive, Suzanne Melody Quinley had never done anything like walk out of school at the last bell, get on a bus, and head a hundred miles out of town without any kind of warning. She’d had to see Detective Joanne Walker. It had literally been life-and-death important. Aunt Mae would never really understand that, but then, Suzy hadn’t tried very hard to make her. She’d deserved to be grounded. Maybe not for six months, but still, she’d deserved it.
And she was never going to get back to sleep with the green shimmer peeping through her elbow or her thoughts going circles on the topic of The Halloween Incident. Once she started remembering the zombies it was all over anyway. Suzy sat up with a sigh and threw the covers aside.
The room lit up, soft green with glimmers of white and gold. Suzy stared at her legs, then pulled the covers over them and lay back down, her eyes squeezed shut again.
She knew—she’d known for some time now, of course—that she was the granddaughter of a god. The daughter of a demi-god, which made her think she should be called a semi-god herself, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that her grandfather’s legacy gave her power, more power than she knew what to do with. She’d deleted someone from the time line once, with that power. Other times she’d seen dozens of futures, and had tried to help people pick the right path to the only safe one.
And every time, she’d burned, blazed, with brilliant green magic. That was the color of her power, as it was the color of Cernunnos’s and of Herne’s. She knew what using that magic felt like. Breath-taking. Liberating. Exciting. Terrifying.
It was not a gentle glow or itchiness in the middle of the night. Something was wrong. Extra-wrong, and when magic went wrong the only person Suzy knew to go to was Detective Walker. Who was in Seattle. Where Aunt Mae had forbidden Suzy to ever go again without adult accompaniment.
She tried, briefly, to envision going into Aunt Mae’s room, waking her aunt up, and asking to be taken to Seattle, all while glowing like a firefly. She failed. Which meant she had to go to Seattle alone. Again. While glowing green.
She was going to be grounded for the rest of her li
fe.
The whole idea made her skin itch even more. Suzy rubbed her arms ferociously, then stopped when the magic coursing under her skin brightened with the activity. It was no use panicking, she told herself as she threw the covers off again and got up to find clothes. At least she didn’t have to turn the lights on. She could navigate by the glow of her skin. and wanted to bite her arms by the time she found some jeans, like she could suck the magic and the itching away as if it was poison. There was a bus at a quarter past midnight, the last one heading to Seattle. She could probably catch that. If she had an extra minute at the bus station she could even call ahead to warn Detective Walker she was coming.
She dragged her jeans on, hopping around the room when she lost her balance tugging them up. The mirror caught her attention a couple of times, reflecting an image so weird it looked like it belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. Green highlights came from within, making her wheat-pale hair glow emerald, especially near the roots. It faded out to almost white around shoulders mostly bared by a spaghetti-strapped nightgown that wrinkled at her waist as she pulled her jeans all the way up and buttoned them. The light dimmed considerably, so her eyes were just big and dark, no longer reflecting green. She would need a hoodie to keep from attracting attention. And maybe sunglasses, because now that she’d noticed them, her eyes were starting to itch too. Suzy made a face at the mirror and turned away from it, looking for a shirt and shades.
Her fingers were two inches from the hoodie when the air shriveled up against her skin, turned cold, and pulled her backward through a hole the size of a pinhead.
There was power. That was all she could tell. Power latching on to her own magic, hauling her up a slick emerald path full of loops and twists and turns, like a roller coaster. More like a waterslide. She’d never liked waterslides. The joinings weren’t smooth enough and the water wasn’t deep enough, so she always fell out of the inner tubes and scraped herself up on the joints. This one was smooth, though, and fast enough that the friction made her skin burn. It burned the itch away, which helped. It also buffed her like she was a diamond—an emerald, she guessed—so that she wasn’t so much glowing as shining. Like a star, if stars were green.
She ran up against another pinhead-sized hole, and got shoved through head first onto a shag carpet floor.
For a minute she couldn’t see anything. There was light, lots of it, but it was all coming from her, drowning out everything else. She wasn’t even afraid yet, but something was bubbling deep inside her chest. A warning, one that ran deeper than anything Suzy had ever known. A warning that up until now she’d used her magic for others, but that she had no sense at all of the depths she could plumb if it was herself she needed to protect. It gave her confidence, though at the same time it ran so deep it was itself a little scary. She was the child of gods, and no one in their right mind messed with gods.
Weirdly, the thought calmed the deep warning inside her. There couldn’t be much that threatened gods. Joanne Walker did, but Joanne knew where Suzy lived. She would have called if she needed her, not magicked her away. Anybody else who thought they could hold even a semi-god like Suzy was either very, very powerful, or very, very dumb. She could give them the benefit of the doubt for a little bit, and assume they were dumb.
The itching had stopped. She thought that was the other reason she wasn’t going absolutely crazy with fear and anger. She’d fought zombies, after all. She’d gotten through the horror of her parents’ murders, and then she’d watched her birth father sluff off mortality to become the Green Man. She thought she could handle anything as long as she didn’t want to scratch her skin off.
Joanne was always using her powers to discover things. Suzy’s didn’t work like that, or at least, she didn’t think they did. But at the same time, she felt confined somehow, like she’d been pulled into something with a specific size and shape. She stretched out her hands and encountered resistance. A flare of her own magic shot around that sensation, exploring it in the same way Suzy had explored parks when she was little: up, down, under, over, around, in. That had been what her mother called organic exploration, using her whole person to learn the world. This was the same thing, except Suzy’s wholeness included magic now.
She’d never explored a pentagram before, though. It surrounded her, wobbling with paltry human power. It would barely hold a mouse, much less her. Suzy laughed. Someone would have the scare of their life and end up grateful that they’d conjured a polite modern teenage granddaughter of a god into their flimsy pentagram instead of one of the much, much worse things that were out there. She would start by shattering the pentagram, just to show them how much trouble they might have been in. She reached out to flick it away with a fingertip.
Just before she did, a high-pitched, familiar voice squeaked, “Suzy?”
Suzy froze mid-motion, then moved her hand above her eyes, like shading them would help her see out of the pentagram when she was the one emitting the light. “Kiseko?”
“Holy crap holy crap holy crap holy cra—” The litany came in a whisper, followed by an even softer, “How do we shut this thing down, Rob? That’s Suzy, holy crap it’s not a nature god you dork it’s my friend Suzy how did we call Suzy OMG WE DID MAGIC—”
The last part was overrun by a boy’s intense, soft voice: “Kiseko, be quiet or we’ll wake your parents up—”
“Well I told you we should’ve done this at your house, your parents are all big into the paranormal thing—”
“First, my parents would have noticed us raising a pentagram in the basement,” the boy said very dryly, “and second, they’d ground me until I was fifteen for messing with this stuff without supervision. Kiseko, stop panicking, you’re just feeding the power circle with your emotion. That’s not Suzanne Quinley, is it?”
Kiseko blurted, “Yes!”
The unseen boy groaned and muttered something Suzy couldn’t hear, then stepped up to the pentagram, putting his hands against it. Suzy could see him then, a tallish boy of twelve or thirteen, with a serious, apologetic expression. “Aunt Jo’s going to kill me,” he announced. “I’m really sorry. We’ll get you out of there in a minute.”
“Who are you? What are you—oh, nevermind. Kiseko talked you into this, didn’t she?” Suzy sat down and put her face in her hands, not sure if she should laugh or cry. “Kiso, what did you do?”
“Oh, I just wanted to try a little magic,” Kiseko said with an impatient stomp of her foot. “Robert, why won’t this thing come down?”
“You’re putting too much energy into it,” Robert repeated. “You need to calm down.”
“Kiseko,” Suzy said into her hands, “doesn’t do calm. She’s Kiseko Anderson, Superhero.” Which was nicer than super-emo, which was what Suzy’s mother used to call Kiseko. She used to say that Kiseko was hysteria waiting to happen. She’d said it with a smile, but she hadn’t been wrong. The first time Suzy had met her, Kiseko had been sprawled full-length on her belly, sobbing piteously into her arms. There had been no one else around. Suzy, concerned, had crouched to ask what was wrong.
Kiseko, seven years old and dripping snot, had lifted her head, discovered her parents had gone inside rather than remain on the street to observe her tantrum, and shut off the waterworks as if they’d never happened. Her face wasn’t even red from crying. Kiseko had sat up, wiped her nose, and shrugged. “I don’t want to live in Seattle. My parents made me move here.”
“Oh! You’re the new family? I watched you move in. I’m Suzy.” Suzy had offered her hand like a little adult. Kiseko had burst out laughing and hugged Suzy instead. Overwhelmed, Suzanne had thought Kiseko was the strongest, wonderful est, and most dramatic person she’d ever met. They’d made friends, been friends, through everything, right up until Suzy’s parents and four high school students had been murdered.
Kiseko hadn’t come to school for a week, not even for the memorial services. She’d barely been able to say goodbye when Aunt Mae had come to take Suzy to Olympia. It was
n’t that Suzy blamed her. It was only that she’d never seen Kiseko take the world at anything less than full tilt, and her friend’s pallor and quietness still haunted her.
It wasn’t in evidence now, thought. Kiseko tossed her hair proudly. “Superhero nothing. Superwitch! I built a power circle! I still don’t get why you’re in it.” She squinted through the brightness at Suzy. “Or why you’re glowing.”
Robert mumbled, “She doesn’t know about y—” and then more clearly said, “If you don’t know about Suzanne, why did you want to try magic in the first place? How did you know it was real?”
Kiseko stopped with arms akimbo and looked at Robert like he was about half his actual age. “The zombies, hello? OMG, don’t tell me you didn’t even notice the zombies—!”
“Sure, it’s just most people—”
Kiseko blew an exasperated breath. “Most people are morons, hello! As if the entire city of Seattle could get turned into a film set without, like, everybody noticing? As if some director would think digging up my back yard and resurrecting my dog was worth the time and money? As if Suzy would just show up at my house to console me after we had to bury Fluffy again? Actually, Suzy, seriously, what were you doing there? I was all, like, emotional. I forgot to ask.”
Suzy peered through her fingers at her best friend, who still stood arms akimbo, but now with her attention directed away from Robert and at Suzanne. As far as Suzy had known, Kiseko wholeheartedly believed Suzy had shown up at Kiseko’s house a little after midnight after Halloween simply so Kiseko would have somebody’s shoulder to sob on as they re-buried their beloved family pet. Not once, not once, had Kiseko ever suggested that she thought there was any other reason for Suzy to show up in Seattle beyond Kiseko needing her at that very moment in time. But now light was starting to gleam in her eyes. “OMG, what were you doing there, and does it have to do with me, like, summoning you?”