by J. C. Hart
"I bet you’ll have no trouble lighting a fire." Vana smiled. "Why don’t you get started, and I’ll find some dry wood. We might as well make a meal of it."
Carmel stared at her for a moment, as though unsure whether Vana’s change in mood was genuine. "That sounds like a good idea," she finally said. "Don’t be long, we don’t want to let them get too far ahead. We two can move faster than the group."
Vana rolled her pants down over her newly healed wounds and slung her pack onto her back. "You need not worry about me." Vana could take care of herself. As soon as she was out of sight she would take one of the purple mushrooms and continue her search for Aida.
Two might be able to move faster than a group, but one was faster still.
7
The chill of the night was encroaching and Vana had yet to stop tracking the Asakan invaders. Soon she would lose the light, and even her keen senses weren’t good enough to keep moving in the darkness. The mushroom had imbued her with so much energy she had run all this way; the tracks were fresh and come morning she would find her child; she was sure.
She let her pack slip to the ground and sat beside it, wrestling with the knots so she could find her canteen. The water was lukewarm on her lips, stale as it hit her throat, but it was better than nothing.
Vana lay back on the grass and peered through the trees. Stars twinkled in the sky like embers flickering in a burned out fire. She wondered where Jonti was now. Whether they had even left the village, or whether they had stayed, despite everything.
Their people were too passive, too passive by far. The last time the Asakans had come—not to declare war, but to assert their domination—the Nivaens had cowered and hidden, and now they did the same. Cowered, ran. If Serafina had only been there if she’d chosen to protect her people then this wouldn’t be happening and they would not have to run from their ancestral home.
Vana was torn between wanting to seek revenge, and just wanting to reclaim what was theirs. The children were the future; clearly the Asakans knew or they wouldn’t have stolen them, killed their menfolk, left the women with empty wombs and empty beds.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she thought of the wreckage she’d left behind, and a sense of guilt so deep down she didn’t want to admit to it seeped out. If she hadn’t been making love to her husband in the woods, they might have stood a better chance. Aida would still be with her. They would all be together as a family. She had left her husband and son for a fool’s errand, and while her goal had been worthy, her intentions were not. She would sooner run from the mess than stay behind to clean it up. She would rather face death, or failure, than watch her people try to regain their footing.
Here, alone, she could admit that it broke her heart to know Jonti wouldn’t risk himself to save Aida. Vana had thought they were a family, had thought he loved the girl like his own, and yet that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t go back to him, they would never be the same. Nothing would be the same again, and if she couldn’t get Aida back… Well, she would die trying.
The thoughts were too complex for her to sort through. All she knew was that she could trust no one, even though she wasn’t sure whether she was up to the task herself.
The dark of night seemed to press against her, closing her in, trapping her with her thoughts. Vana put her canteen back in the bag, and reached for another mushroom, pausing only a moment before she popped it into her mouth and waited for the effects to kick in.
***
She pushed on. The mushroom guided her; the potency strengthening her vision even in the dark. They couldn’t be far now, and all she had as a plan was her rage, her fear. The Nivaen people had never fought a war. It wasn’t in their nature; they had always relied on the goddess for protection.
That hadn’t been the best idea.
The smell of a dying fire hit her nostrils and Vana dropped to her knees, ducking her head to the ground to listen. No movement ahead. Either they were asleep, or they were gone. She glanced up to find the sky was lightening and decided that the invaders were already on the move.
She didn’t bother to brush off the dead leaves or be quiet as she approached the clearing. A thin line of smoke rose, dispersing between the leaves and branches overhead, the grass flat. Vana scanned the ground, trying to gauge how many they were, but the footprints were too muddy, too criss-crossed to tell. It didn’t matter; they were close, and if she could just keep going, she could catch them, use the long shadows of the morning to snatch her daughter back.
And the others?
Something would come to her, it had to. There would be an opening, a way to draw the Asakan’s attention so she could steal back the children. She could picture Aida now, her sweet face. Would she ever smile again?
A bird swooped low and the sound of its beating wings pounded in her head. It seemed to blur in the dim morning light, eyes glowing, screech deafening. Vana crushed her hands to her ears, rocking back on her heels, her vision swimming as she closed her eyes. She had to hold it together. Had to get Aida.
When she opened her eyes her vision had cleared and she could feel the thrum of movement through the ground, could hear the foreign tongue being spoken again.
She ran, the ground wavered beneath her but her footsteps were sure, nothing was an obstacle. Her senses were so heightened she could sense things before they came, not a single branch hit her as she passed, no roots could tumble her. Her body was strong, her mind was clear and her focus was absolute.
Vana burst out of the woods and onto a path. The sun was high and she could see the dust rising ahead. They were so close.
And there was Aida. Her braid still bound, her hands too. Vana moved forward, but a hand grasped her wrist and snatched her back into the shadows of the forest.
"No!" She tried to scream the word, but fingers clamped against her mouth and only a mumble came out. Someone had doubled back, she’d been caught and everything was lost.
Her captor drew Vana against her chest. "Calm down, girl." The woman’s voice was soft, and it spoke Nivaen. Vana’s thoughts whirled as she tried to make sense of it all. "It’s Carmel, child. Hush now. You were about to get yourself killed."
Carmel?
The old woman loosened her grasp on Vana, who turned to face her.
"But how are you here? I left you…" She frowned, trying to make sense of things.
"You did. And I followed." Carmel had Vana’s pack, and she was digging through it. "What did you take? You’ve been stomping around the forest making enough noise to rouse beasts. I know you’re the best tracker in the village, so tell me, what was it?"
"Purple mushrooms, they give you focus…" Vana realized her mouth was dry and scratchy, her skin was scratchy too. She glanced up at the sky and it seemed like the sun was already beginning its descent. But it was barely past midday. Nothing made sense. She slumped to the ground. "I need water."
Carmel passed her a canteen wordlessly though Vana caught the disappointed shake of her head. The liquid was cool on her tongue, it sparkled against the dry edges of her mouth and she realized with sudden clarity that Carmel was right. She had taken too many mushrooms and her senses were muddled. In her desperation, she had almost made things worse.
Her nose tingled and tears slid down her cheeks as an ache spread through her chest. "My baby. I just want her back. I need her back." She closed her eyes and curled up on the ground.
Carmel knelt beside her, folding her into a hug. It felt so motherly and broke through the walls of Vana’s grief, back to when her own mother was murdered by the Asakans, the last time they had invaded. It was so long ago, and they had thought themselves safe. But that would never happen, they had been fooling themselves. She’d been fooling herself. She would never get Aida back, and their people would die out this time, for sure.
8
Vana cried until she had no tears left, and Carmel held her all the while. When she raised her head, it was full dark. She moved out of Carmel’s arms and rolled her should
ers, noting the aches. There were scratches on her arms from the branches she hadn’t noticed in her pursuit of Aida, and the soles of her feet throbbed.
"I’m sorry," she said, her words as soft as the night.
"You would do anything for your child." Carmel nodded. "I know that feeling. We are more alike than you think."
"I don't want—"
"I know, you don't want to know we're alike." Carmel reached out and turned Vana’s head toward her. "But we must look for the similarities between us if we are to work together. You cannot do this on your own."
The words stung more than they had a right to, but she knew it was the truth.
"When Landon died, my heart broke. All I had left was baby Romane, and Landon’s dying wish. I knew if I could get him to Serafina’s flame, he might not be lost to me forever, and I did everything in my power to make that happen. I defied the All Mother. I left a life I had become accustomed to, to return to the goddess. I had no idea if the village was even still there. As far as I knew, you were all dead, and I was alone. But it did not stop me.
"And now here you are. Searching for your lost child, desperate to bring her home, willing to do anything to make that happen. I wage that you would even die for her. But you do not have to. We can do this, you and I, if you will just let me help." Carmel pressed her lips together and nodded again. "I know you blame me for this, and I am sorry, but will you let me in?"
Vana looked at Carmel closely for the first time since she’d returned to the village. Her face was lined with age, but she shone as though lit by a flame. Her skin was thin, allowing that light to seep out and create a radiance Vana hadn’t known was possible. "What are you?"
"I am the beacon of Serafina. She took me into her lake and healed my wounds, gave me new life. I am still mortal though I have power of my own."
"So she is real, still there." Vana chewed her lower lip. She felt like a child again, not quite sure whether to believe in the myth and story of their goddess. She'd all but written it off as fake.
"She was always there, and she needs us in the same way we need her. We were the ones who forsook her first though I doubt the others will see it like that."
"What do you mean?" She was curious now.
Carmel shuffled away, creating a space between them where she pushed together some twigs and touched them with a finger, setting the bundle alight. "Back when I was a child, I was dedicated to Serafina. I was to be her next beacon. I took my vows seriously, and I wanted nothing more than to be in her embrace even though it scared me." Carmel paused as if remembering. "It set me apart from the other girls my age, there was jealousy. And then I was caught, out in the woods. Raped by an Asakan warrior. I got home, but I was pregnant with Landon. They let us be for a few years, but in that time I was shunned. They wouldn’t let me go to the mountain or see my goddess. We were so worried about them coming back that we kept to ourselves, we stopped traveling. Stopped worshipping Serafina in the ways that she required.
"So when the Asakans returned and razed our village, she didn’t have enough connection to us to help. We’d weakened her, and ever since then she has only grown weaker." Carmel finally looked up. "She needs our love like we need hers. We are all weaker without it. We are meant to be connected; joined in life and death. If we don’t protect ourselves and her, we are lost to the All Mother."
Vana let that sink in, unsure what to say. She could hear the truth in Carmel’s words, but her first wish was to deny it. The goddess was stronger than them all, and she should have protected them, then and now. Yet she’d done nothing.
Except, what had they done? Nothing. They had let this happen, had left themselves open to it.
"Can I show you something?" Carmel broke the silence.
"What?"
"Back at the village you didn’t want to see me, or the goddess, but I think you’re ready now."
Vana looked up at the sky, wishing she had some kind of sign. She still felt that resistance, but she could see now that unless she let Carmel in, she would not get Aida back. She had to open herself up. When she caught Carmel’s gaze it was warm, inviting like the fire.
Vana took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Okay."
Carmel pulled a small pouch from her belt and opened it. "This is ash from Serafina’s fire. It recalls our ancestors to us. While those from the attack in which I was taken did not get taken to the flames on top of the mountain, they were burned. Serafina claimed them all."
"But how?" Vana was so confused, and her head was still throbbing. She didn’t want to hope for what she thought Carmel was trying to say. "Show me."
Carmel nodded, and fished her hand into the bag, drawing out a mere pinch of ash, which she sprinkled over the fire. A man emerged in the flames, his form so clear, yet not one that Vana recognized.
"I don’t understand," she said.
"This is my son, Landon." Carmel smiled.
"Mother, it's good to see you again. How goes your mission for Serafina?" He knelt in the fire so that he was seated like his mother, and Vana could sense his desire to reach out to Carmel. She felt a pang, knowing they could never touch again in this life and had to wonder if this was less of a gift than a burden.
"Well enough, though some complications have arisen. I’d like you to meet Vana. I’m traveling with her to rescue her daughter, who has been taken."
"They came?" Landon bowed his head. "I am so sorry. If I had not asked mother to—"
"No. No, don’t apologize." Vana pressed a hand to her heart. "You are one of us, and you deserved to be brought home. It is not your fault that the Asakans wanted to punish us for existing."
"Still, I wish it had not been so." He glanced at her then, his eyes amber, flickering in the slight breeze.
"I will leave you two to talk, I need a little privacy." Carmel rose, gave one more little nod, and headed for some shrubs.
"Has she always been so… calm?" Vana asked.
Landon chuckled. "Not always. I think being with Serafina is good for her. She was always so dedicated to keeping me safe, which meant not causing any trouble in the city. Now she has a different goal, one that goes beyond me."
"What was it like, living there?"
"I’m half Asakan, so it was easier for me. I worked hard, gained some level of freedom, and I married a woman I loved. I was happy." He smiled. "Mother was not. But she had me, and she had Romane. It gave her something to live for. I think she could be happier now, even though it is hard to return to a life you thought gone forever."
"I was unkind to her. I blamed her for everything that happened."
"She will understand." He glanced over his shoulder, a smile flashing across his face. "I must go. Someone else wishes to speak to you."
"But—"
But he was gone, and she was no more enlightened than before.
"Oh, child. Look how you’ve grown."
That voice. "Mama? Is that you?" She squinted into the flames, her mother taking shape, not looking much older than Vana was now, and there, behind her, her father. She choked out a sob, covering her eyes with her hands. "No, I can’t believe it."
"Is it really so hard? Look at us, child."
Vana peeled her hands away. They were just the same as she remembered them, the laugh lines around their faces, the warm glow of their eyes as they looked at her.
"We've missed you. It’s been too long."
"I thought you lost forever. I didn’t… I had no idea you’d been taken up."
"The goddess loves her people."
"But she wasn’t there when we needed her. She didn’t help. The Asakan flames killed so many, they killed you!" Vana could hear the petulant child in her voice, the little girl who had lost her parents. She’d blamed them, blamed Serafina, blamed herself, when it was the Asakan invaders who had really caused her pain.
"In time, you will forgive. I know your heart, Vana, and while you have always held onto the injustices against you, there is also room for love and forgiveness." H
er father’s words brought her to tears again, and she sobbed until she was too weak to hold herself upright. The flames licked out from the fire, drying her cheeks but not harming her.
She glanced into the flames, but her parents were gone, replaced by a woman she did not recognize. Vana brushed her hair back from her face and sat up. "Where did my parents go?" she demanded. "I’m not ready to say goodbye."
"You need not fear, Vana. They are with me, and you will never have to say goodbye."
"Serafina?"
"The one." The goddesses smile was broader than Vana could have imagined. She’d curled her feet under her and was perched in the fire, her pose and expression that of a child. "I don’t believe we’ve met before, but I have heard all about you—at least the you that your parents knew."
Vana rocked back on her heels, her mouth worked but no words came. She couldn’t figure out what to say, other than, "You are not as I imagined." And even as she spoke the words she didn’t know whether it was wonder or admonishment in her tone.
"I hear that often." Serafina chuckled, her voice deep, the flames flickering with her laughter. "I also hear that your daughter has been taken and that the All Mother’s followers are responsible." Serafina’s expression darkened. "She and I, we can’t seem to get along. At some point, we will have to have it out, but I need to regain my strength."
Vana frowned, still uncertain what was expected of her, or why the goddess was here at all. "What do you want from me?"
"The same thing I want from all my people—to be loved." They were wistful words, and they struck a chord with Vana.
"I think we all want the same," she whispered.
"What none of you seem to realize is that I love you, all of you, deeply, and I yearn for that love to be returned. You are the ones who make me strong, you are my only hope, and I am yours. We need each other."
Vana straightened, a knot forming in her stomach. "I need no one. Or anything. I can do this on my own."