Mythbound Trilogy Boxed Set

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Mythbound Trilogy Boxed Set Page 70

by Cory Barclay


  Tears came to his eyes.

  “M-Mom?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Spirit Watcher reached out and put a soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Her tender touch caused his trembling body to calm, but in his mind, there was a glitch in the matrix. He couldn’t hold a complete thought—it was like he’d taken LSD and it had just kicked in. The shadowy, shifting blobs from the waterfall’s moonlit reflection didn’t help.

  Steve couldn’t get a grip. As soon as he felt his mind might be soothed, he took one glance at the Spirit Watcher’s face and chaos ensued once more.

  Echoing his thoughts, she said, “Steven, get a hold of yourself. Please.” Her tone was casual and soft, but her words were stern. There was hurt in her voice. Something else lingered in her tone that Steve couldn’t put his finger on.

  He hadn’t seen his mother in . . . he couldn’t remember when. Since he was a child. The tears that threatened to fall weren’t tears of joy or happiness.

  They were tears of pain. Long-held abandonment issues, surfacing at last.

  Because that’s exactly what Steve’s mother had done when he and his brother were children: she’d abandoned them. She’d left Steve and his brother to be raised by Richard. She’d never returned, never called, never written. She had vanished like a ghost chicken, never to be heard from again. Steve had built a brooding resentment for years. When he was old enough, the pain seemed to subside a bit.

  Time healed all. Even the cold feeling of hate.

  Steve had never gone to therapy to resolve his issues over his mother’s abandonment. But he knew he should have. Without having a female role model, he’d been a callous youth. He’d never been able to nurture relationships. He’d always looked for his mother in the girlfriends he’d had. It was some Freudian shit, but it was something Steve had always recognized in himself. He’d never known true womanly, nurturing love, because he’d never felt it. That is until he’d met Annabel.

  Now all the dark, buried thoughts of anguish and sadness crept up into his mind and heart.

  His heart pounded in his chest and he breathed rapidly. He was aware he was having a panic attack. He closed his eyes, trying to control his anxiety. He tried to forget his mother’s hand was resting on his shoulder. He eventually exhaled deeply and pacified his fears.

  “W-What are you doing here?” he asked at last. His voice was filled with emotion, though he’d tried to sound cold and detached. He glanced outside the waterfall, where his friends should have been. They were still either invisible or gone.

  It suddenly dawned on him that he was in Ethereus. He could tell by the mystical, dreamy nature of the world around him. He hadn’t dream-leaped, but it was like he’d been forced to leap outside of his own mind.

  His mother said, “Is that really the first question you’d like to ask me, Steven?”

  Steve gritted his teeth.

  He paused, gathering his thoughts. His mind no longer seemed to be hurtling toward disaster. He turned and stared at her brown eyes. He could sense the sadness there, but it didn’t seem directed at him.

  “No,” Steve answered, “it isn’t.”

  Another pause. Then she said, “Well?” and looked like a mother scolding a child.

  Steve’s lower lip trembled. “Where did you go?”

  The Spirit Watcher sighed. She seemed regal and otherworldly. She belonged in this mythical cave beneath a waterfall in the middle of the woods.

  “Before we speak about the important business at hand, I suppose it’s best that we begin there.” She removed her hand from his shoulder and stepped back. “I left because I thought I had to, my son. I left to protect you and your brother.”

  Steve narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “Bullshit.”

  “You may think that—and I don’t blame you, Steven. I don’t expect you to forgive me—”

  “Good, because it’s not gonna happen.”

  “But let me try to explain. Perhaps it will ease your conscience.”

  “Maybe it will ease yours,” Steve snarled. “My conscience is golden.” He felt petty and vindictive. He tried to think of words that would sting, but then he let the thoughts die away. He knew he was being rash and childish. Maybe she did have a good reason . . .

  No, he yelled to himself. Nothing she can say will ever make me forgive her.

  Steve’s mother frowned and her eyes became glassy. She seemed on the verge of tears, like she’d been able to read Steve’s thoughts. And then Steve knew she could—he was probably in her Ethereus plane, after all.

  “I realized I was a dream-leaper quite young, Steven. That is why you have such a powerful dream-leaping force. You received your mythical qualities from me, not your father.

  “I became adept at using my power. And obsessed. I became so strong I began to see the future in other people’s dreams. It terrified me and I had no one to help navigate my thoughts or curb my power.” She paused and glanced toward the rocky wall.

  Sniffling, she continued. “I thought if . . . maybe if I left, I would steer danger away from you and your brother. I thought you and your brother would have a chance at living normal lives. That you’d never realize your true nature. I was young and had no idea what you would become—how strong you would become. This was around the time I found out about your father’s affair . . .”

  Steve snorted. He knew this part: Richard had cheated on his mother with January Amos. January had told him as much. But he didn’t want to bring the benevolent Druid into this, and he surely didn’t want to bring his father into it.

  “You thought I would never understand my power if you stayed away?” Steve asked, not quite believing her. It seemed too simple and naïve.

  “I hoped it would never come to fruition. Yes.”

  “And where did you go?”

  “Here. I met someone who brought me here and I’ve never left. I’ve lived a reclusive life, son, but it’s a life I can live without harming anyone.”

  Steve frowned. “You’ve been in Mythicus for . . . almost twenty years?”

  She smiled weakly. “Not Mythicus, my son. Ethereus.”

  Steve’s eyebrows jumped. “You mean you’ve . . . been trapped in Ethereus for that long?” Annabel had told him stories of people being captives of Ethereus—in a world that shaped people’s minds.

  She was shaking her head. “I came here voluntarily, son. First, yes, I went to Mythicus. I discovered I had no taste for the politics and bureaucracy. It was like Terrus. As I became more powerful and honed my craft, I found myself spending more and more time here. Before long, I was spending all my time here, traveling through the interconnected spirit world of the mind.”

  Steve’s thoughts went blank. “How can that be? And . . . why, mom? Don’t you ever miss your family?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, a bit harshly. “You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this moment, son. I’ve been watching you. You and your brother both. But I noticed he had no taste for this sort of thing, while you burgeoned into a Mythical champion. I’m proud of you, Steven.” A small smile crept on her face. “What you’ve done for Annabel, for the Vagrant Kinship . . . you are a good man—”

  “No thanks to you,” Steve snapped. A hurt look replaced the proud expression on her face. Steve regretted it immediately.

  “I deserved that,” she said, bowing her head away from him.

  There was an awkward moment of silence, but Steve was determined to move past it. He said, “How do you know about all the things I’ve done here?”

  “Like I said, I’ve been watching you.” She glanced back at him and sighed once more. “I don’t think you understand the scope of my abilities, son. It is partly why I left. I was scared what it might do to you. I can affect people’s lives just by conversing with them. I can shape their dreams and change their fates. It’s why I’ve lived as a hermit, so I would do as little damage as possible.”

  Steve was flabbergasted. How could his mother be so powerful? Wh
ere did this all come from? He said, “Then why are you talking to me now?”

  “Because it’s time. I’ve seen the shape of things, and it is not good. The war raging between the Brethren and the Vagrants is a blip on the radar for Mythicus. But even so, Soreltris has become a world stage. The rest of Mythicus is watching, and they disapprove of what the Brethren propose.”

  Steve furrowed his brow. “What do the Brethren propose?”

  “They wish to control Terrus. For centuries the Mythics and humans have lived peacefully, coexisting in separate worlds. The occasional Myth Seeker or Myth Maker would Sear people to and from the different worlds. Besides that, humans and Mythics lived without knowledge of each other. Now, the Brethren have realized the power of the Parallel Reflector. And their intentions are malicious.”

  “You mean dad’s? He’s the one who discovered the Reflector—he’s the one who controls it.”

  She shook her head. “No, Steven, it was you who led the Brethren to understand the power of the mirror. But it is not your fault. And it is not your father of whom I speak. Richard is not long for this world . . .”

  When she trailed off and looked away, Steve tilted his head. “You mean he’s going back to Terrus?”

  “Not exactly . . .” she said in a low voice, trailing off again. “This is something you must deal with on your own, my son. I will speak no more about your father—neither good nor ill.”

  Steve felt the color leave his cheeks. He was afraid of saying the words he knew to be true, regarding his father. So, instead, he changed the subject. “If Mythicus and Terrus are headed for a doomsday collision and all that, why don’t you do something about it? You just said you’re super strong.”

  “Because I am the Spirit Watcher, son. I am not the catalyst of these events—I only chronicle them. I would be afraid of doing more harm than good. My power is not easily contained, and it is not up to me to pick sides.”

  “Though if you did pick sides, it would be the side of humankind?”

  She nodded. “As foolish and faulty as humans are, I do not wish to see them become subjugated by a ruthless, nefarious monarch. Many would die.”

  “Who is the one instigating this subjugation, if not my father?”

  “The new leader of the Brethren. The one you call Jareth Reynolds.”

  Steve stifled a gasp. He should have guessed that fiery bastard would have something to do with this. Who would have thought Jareth would be so much more of a vicious, proactive leader than Richard?

  “Is it too late to do anything?” Steve asked.

  “Of course not. But you must act quickly. I have foreseen the dreamscape of the future and, though it’s webbed, there is a common thread. Humanity will prevail, my son . . . even if it’s not how you like.”

  Steve scoffed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, mom? Your riddles sound like January’s.”

  She narrowed her eyes on her son, the first time she actually looked angry rather than wounded. Steve realized his mistake: it was not wise to mention the woman who caused the fissure between her and Richard.

  Steve faced the ground. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean, and I’m stressed out.”

  Her face became tranquil in an instant. “I know. This all must be very confusing. But when I mention a catalyst—and it isn’t just because you’re my son that I say this—I see the power of change within you. It is why I’m talking to you now, after so many years.”

  “But what can I do?” Steve’s mind started racing again. “From what you’re saying, it seems like I have to choose: save dad, or save Annabel.”

  She shook her head. “That is not the choice at your feet, Steven. I’m afraid those fates have already been decided. No, you must take the Parallel Reflector from Jareth’s hands. Until it is out of his possession, Terrus is not safe. And neither is Mythicus.”

  Steve thought over those words. He wondered what was happening to his father, and why his mother wouldn’t tell him the details. When he glanced at her face, she had a knowing look in her eyes, like she’d read his thoughts but refused to elaborate. He sighed and clenched his jaw, exasperated.

  Seeing the defeated expression on his face, she said, “You have allies, my son. Use them. You have powers. Use them. Use every little advantage at your disposal. You can defeat the Brethren of Soreltris and its leaders. But you must be headstrong. You must decide a course of action and you must attack it with everything you’ve got. Do you understand?”

  For the first time since this dismal conversation had started, Steve felt his heart fill. His mother’s pep talk managed to strike true and he nodded firmly. He didn’t have a plan, or a scheme, but he knew what the outcome must be.

  It seemed like he was the only one who could stand up for humankind in their most dire need. And they didn’t even know about it. There would be no rewards or medals, if he even lived through this . . .

  “Fuck it,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

  The Spirit Watcher smiled. She said, “When this is all over, you will have a final decision to make. I trust it will be a difficult one, but I believe it’s one you can make.”

  Steve squinted, unsure what she meant by that vague sentence.

  She said, “Your time on Mythicus is ending, my son. You must decide where you belong, as I did so many years ago.”

  Ah, Steve thought, nodding. Now I understand. I have to choose between living on Mythicus with Annabel or living on Terrus with the rest of my people. I think I’ve always known it would come down to that.

  “Yes,” she said, elaborating on his thoughts. “That is the decision you must make. However . . .” she trailed off and pulled the final piece of her black garb, the veil, over her face, shadowing her from Steve.

  “However?” Steve asked when he’d grown impatient.

  “However, there is also a third option you haven’t taken into consideration . . .”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Steve tried to clear his mind as his group stalked back through the woods. He couldn’t get his mother’s words out of his mind. The “third option” she’d spoken of was a decision he’d have to make alone, so he didn’t relay the message to Aiden or Pua Kila.

  He kept his head down and stayed quiet while the group walked through the woods.

  Aiden said, “So, your ma, huh?”

  Steve nodded.

  “The surprises never stop coming.”

  Steve said nothing. He was aware of a rustling behind him. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw a bush flutter in the breeze. Except there was no breeze. It was a still, calm night.

  “The wolf-woman is following us,” Pua Kila said without looking back.

  Aiden said, “Your ma probably told her to follow us.”

  “Please don’t call her that,” Steve said quietly.

  Aiden screwed up his face. “Why not? That’s what she is, mate. Don’t deny her that much, at least.”

  “Because I’m trying to keep things straight in my mind. It makes it difficult when you refer to her as my ‘ma.’ Just call her the Spirit Watcher, please, for my sake.”

  Aiden shrugged. “Suit yourself, lad.”

  The group headed through the forest the same way they’d come, through a well-traveled path. Every once in a while they had to veer off course to avoid hiking up a hill, or to move around a large boulder. For the most part, they kept a simple westerly path toward the Lee household.

  Steve hoped with all his heart that Annabel would be there, like she’d promised. He still couldn’t believe he’d allowed her to separate from him once he’d gone through the Parallel Reflector. He had been so close to her, but she’d slipped through his grasp once again. A small part of him knew it wasn’t his decision to make—she’d needed to make sure her family was okay. But the majority of him felt like an idiot.

  A dry leaf crackled under his feet. A plan was formulating in his mind and he tugged at the skin under his chin.

  Aiden gave him a sidelong glance. “What’s
on your mind?”

  “The Spirit Watcher made it clear: we’re on a serious timetable here. Jareth could send blackguards to Terrus at any minute—if he hasn’t already. The medieval terror of those bastards could be on the ten o’clock news tonight, for all we know.”

  Aiden scratched his cheek. “What can we do about it?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking about, Aiden. A plan.”

  Steve stared ahead at Pua Kila’s muscled back. The Nawao queen ducked underneath a low branch and disappeared into the darkness. She moved methodically, deliberately, like she was afraid of waking up the trees.

  “Pua Kila,” Steve called out in a low voice.

  “Yes, Koa Steve?” she answered back, but didn’t turn. Her warriors kept pace behind Steve and Aiden. A few stragglers held the reins of their eight horses.

  “You’ve been to Aiden’s house,” Steve said. When she did not reply, he added, “So you know the way.”

  “Indeed,” Pua Kila said.

  “I want you to go there.” Steve opened his mouth to keep talking, but then closed it. “Please.”

  Pua Kila stopped in her tracks. She stood upright and the rest of the contingent stopped with her. When she turned around to face Steve, half of her face was covered in darkness, while the moon lit the other half. It gave her a menacing appearance.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Now, preferably,” Steve said.

  “Why?”

  “I want you to retrieve our friends.” Before she could ask any other “W” questions, he said, “With your warriors and the horses, you should be able to carry the loot from the house.”

  “What loot?” she asked, a “W” question Steve hadn’t thought to answer.

  “Gold,” Aiden said, stepping forward. A grin flashed on his face. “This is a good idea.”

  Pua Kila looked from Steve to Aiden. “I don’t understand.”

  Steve pointed past her. “I know the way back to the Lee house from here,” he said, glancing around at the dark trees and foliage. He didn’t know if he was correct, but there was only one way to find out. “I’ve been through here before, if you remember, through Lig’s eyes.”

 

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