It is too much.
I pause. The power pauses. I feel it waiting, ready to surge through me with no end. It is too much. Too much for me. Too much for anyone. That is its strength and its flaw. It cannot be contained. It cannot be free. It is too much for anyone. It needs everyone. I cannot hold it. I do not want it. I want a choice. I want change. To turn, the Wheel of the World must have choice and change, and everything in It—everyone—must choose and change as they will so that It may turn.
I gather what is in me and thrust it back, let the power surge and flow into the ring of stone. It surges and flows. It opens the Ways. All the Ways open, and the Wheel turns.
And I fall in ecstasy and sorrow for what is and always is.
Change is change. It is not Light. It is not Dark.
It is Grey.
50
I woke up on the ground, facing the sky and smelling burning flesh. Smoke tumbled across the Common, thick, acrid billows flickering with essence and fire and death. Bodies surrounded me, dozens, maybe hundreds. I pulled myself up and leaned against the pillar.
My sword lay on the ground, scorched black on the blade. The faith stone was gone. I no longer sensed it anywhere. The sword shifted in my hand when I picked it up and went cold.
I heard sobbing. I searched through the stone ring, going from opening to opening, bodies spread across scorched grass. Here and there, essence signatures glimmered. They weren’t all dead, some, but not all. The sobbing grew louder. I went through a gate in the stone ring and stopped in my tracks.
Kevin Murdock knelt on the ground. He rocked in place, his eyes squeezed shut as sobs wracked his body. Leo lay next to him on the ground, soot-stained and bloodied. I staggered forward, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Kevin….” I said.
He jerked his head up at the sound of my voice. His eyes blazed with essence when he saw me. “Get away from him,” he screamed.
My shield kicked on, but the force of Kevin’s blast hurtled me backwards. I slammed into the stone ring, screaming as the force of it cracked ribs and broke my leg. I fell to the ground, writhing.
Dazed, I lifted my face from the dirt. My sensing ability flickered on and off. I saw something behind Kevin, a subtle glow of a body signature in Leo’s chest. “Not dead,” I slurred.
Kevin came toward me, tears streaming down his face, essence smoking off his hands. “Not dead? Not dead? Look around you. They’re all dead.”
He fired. My body shield rattled around me, and I flopped onto my back. “Kevin, listen….”
He thrust his hand out. “You did this. You killed them. You killed everyone.”
I dragged myself backwards as he fired again. My shield absorbed the shock but crushed me against the stone ring. I tried to tap essence from the ground, but my body was spent. I laughed in futility at the irony. I had my abilities back but no more strength to use them than if I had none at all.
“You think this is funny?” Kevin screamed.
He was almost on top of me when he fired again. My head snapped to the side, my shield crushing my cheekbone. My vision swam as the shield failed. I clutched the ground, trying to pull strength from the raw earth, but I was too weak.
Kevin reared back and punched me. I held my arm up to block the blow too late, spots flashing in my left eye. I dropped my hands to my sides, staring up at him. “You don’t understand,” I mumbled.
“I don’t,” he said.
He held his palm up to my face. I watched the essence coalesce, loops and swirls of white growing on his palm. I closed my eyes, trying to push away, pushing against the ground, but I was against a stone gate of the henge, with no room to maneuver. My hand fell on something cold and hard. I closed my fist around it, felt the heft of the blade as I gripped my sword. With the last of my strength, I thrust it up.
Kevin’s jaw fell open in shock as he hunched forward. His head shuddered as he fought the pain, his hands clawing the air in front of him. Blood gushed over my hand as Kevin stared down in disbelief at the sword buried in his abdomen. He lifted his face, and his expression crumbled into rage. Essence ignited in his hands. I pushed the sword in deeper, and he collapsed over me, his last bolt of essence searing into my chest. Something tore inside, something important that pulled away, and my legs went numb.
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, and wept until I passed out.
Cold woke me. I stared across the remains of the Common. People roamed among the bodies, their faces slack with horror. The westering sun cast the field red with light that threw long dark shadows. Kevin lay on his back beside me, my sword rising from his body like a cross. As I pulled it free, Joe fluttered up from my side. I didn’t even know he was there.
“I came too late,” he said.
The sword shivered and shrank in my hand. The essence drained out of it, and it went cold. I struggled to smile. “You came, Joe. That’s all that matters.”
He settled on the ground. “I can’t find anyone. The world keeps changing.”
“It’s okay. It’ll settle down,” I said. I held the dagger out. “Do me a favor and take this to Briallen.”
He took the dagger. It was almost as long as he was tall. “I shouldn’t leave you. I’ll keep calling for someone.”
“Do this for me first, Joe. I promised her,” I said.
His lip trembled. He nodded and winked out. I closed my eyes. I opened my eyes. Joe sat on my thigh, the dagger across his lap. The setting sun lit his vacant stare with a harsh light.
“What happened?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me. “She shielded her house and wouldn’t answer my call.”
“Bring it back, Joe. You have to do it for me before it’s too late,” I said.
He looked at me with a world of hurt. “Do I have to?”
“Yeah, Joe, you do,” I said.
He bowed his head and disappeared. I closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes. Joe lay curled against my chest, his wings folded flat, his essence light dimmed.
“What happened?” I asked.
He spoke without moving. “I called her again, but she didn’t answer. I flew over the house and looked in the backyard. It was empty. Water was flowing in the fountain. I dropped the dagger, and it pierced the shield barrier and landed in the water. A mist rose, and I thought I saw someone moving in it. I heard a wail of grief that keened higher and higher, until it broke my heart. The mist disappeared, and the fountain was empty.”
I rested my hand on him and closed my eyes.
“Thanks, buddy. You’re the best.”
Epilogue
The wind blew bitter cold off the ocean as Briallen verch Gwyll ab Gwyll followed the porters. She cinched the rope on her black alb and gathered her cloak around her. The porters walked the dirt path, worn hard with age and use, as it sloped downward to the beach. Briallen studied the ground in front of her, the wooden bier in the upper edge of her sight. She thought of nothing in particular—the sound of the wind through the grass, the cry of the seabirds. She had walked the path before.
The porters reached the beach, and their gait slowed against the heavy sand. They took care to keep the bier level and not jostle the body. Briallen did look up then, staring into the distance ahead. The sky was flat white around her as it always was on the beach.
They walked beneath a sunless sky down the endless beach. There was no telling how far to walk. It was different every time. The strand of the shore wound off into the haze. It might never end, she thought. Places like the beach were like that.
A dark spot appeared on the sand ahead, beside the path the porters took. That was different. Briallen had never seen it before and was more surprised as they drew closer. The spot resolved into a figure bundled in black, sitting on the sand. The porters did not pause as they passed. They knew their place and kept walking.
Briallen paused. The huddled shape lifted its head and threw back a hood. Meryl Dian stared after the bier. Tears streamed d
own her face as the porters meandered above the foam of the tide.
“I loved him,” she said. “I didn’t mean to, but I loved him this time.”
Briallen held her hand out, and Meryl took it. Like a mother, she gathered the smaller woman into her arms and held her to her breast. “Do not lament love. It has a power beyond even the Wheel of the World.”
They stood together as the porters walked on. There was world enough and time on the beach. Meryl’s tears subsided, and Briallen released her. They followed after the bier, first Briallen, then Meryl. Though they made no effort, they reached the porters without speed.
Ahead three figures appeared, three woman in black albs. They stood in a row along the beach, barring the way. The porters did not vary their pace, did not quicken with the end of their journey in sight, but walked until they reached a barge in the surf. With care, they lowered the bier and stepped away. Meryl hung back as the three women joined Briallen on the barge, two to each side of the body.
Briallen looked up as a bird cried in the wind, a crow, lost in the flat white of the sky. She looked at the woman across from her and nodded. The woman lifted her hood and settled it back on her shoulders, her expression blank. Briallen exhaled, a coil of essence rolling from her lips, settling over the woman’s face.
Keeva macNeve lifted her head, startled. She stared at Briallen, then down at the body. She pressed her lips together in regret and resignation. “I gave him Challenge,” she said. “I gave him cause to thrive and rise above his ability. I gave him trial and tribulation. I failed him.”
Briallen looked at the woman beside her and nodded. She pushed back her hood. Briallen exhaled, and awareness came into Maeve’s gaze. Expressionless, she stared at the body, showing no emotion. “I gave him Ambition,” she said. “I gave him cause to challenge himself and rise above the world. I gave him reason for being. I failed him.”
Briallen looked at the third woman and hesitated, then nodded. She exhaled as the woman released her hood. Ceridwen gasped as she stared at the body. “I gave him….” Uncertain, she looked up at Briallen. Briallen arched her eyebrow and nodded again. Ceridwen released a shuddering breath, collecting her thoughts, then smiled with sadness. “I gave him Love…. Love Unrequited. I gave him cause to…. to find his heart’s desire. I gave him strength to hold on to something more precious than I had to offer. I failed him.”
Briallen exhaled slowly. “I gave him Wisdom,” she said. “I gave him knowledge and hope. I gave him curiosity to seek what he needed to find. I failed him.”
Silence fell over them, broken by the shush of the sea and sigh of the wind. The porters approached the barge, leaving Meryl alone on the sand. Briallen held out a hand to her. “You’ve earned a place here,” she said.
Meryl swallowed hard as she walked down the beach. A porter helped her onto the barge. Ceridwen slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
Meryl stared at the body, clenching her fists, fighting back tears. “I gave him Love. I gave him desire and dreams and…. I gave him my heart and my soul.” She lifted a defiant chin, staring Briallen in the eye. “I did not fail him. He did not fail me.”
Briallen’s lips parted in surprise, but she did not speak. The world had changed. The Wheel of the World had turned. Change was not to be denied. She looked into the distance, to the horizon lost in the mist. “We go now to Avalon, the Isle of Apples, the Isle of Healing. Pray rest, good man, and, perhaps, heal.”
The porters pushed the barge into the surf. It drifted along the beach until a current caught it, and it pulled away from shore. The beach receded. A spot of pink essence flashed in the air above the barge, circled once, and vanished.
The barge faded into the mist of the sea.
Leonard Murdock knelt at the communion rail of St. Brigid’s Church. He found what solace he could in the silent room. The resident priest had already heard his confession. He had made his penance. The empty pews behind him gave mute witness to his prayers. He paused with his eyes closed, listening for something that would give meaning to his faith. Sometimes he thought he heard something. Sometimes he thought he only wished it. Either way, he believed it made no difference.
He crossed himself, a faint light lingering on his hands, and exited the church. Janey smiled as he got in the car.
“Let’s go get some sushi,” he said.
“Sushi? You? What brought that on?” she asked.
He smiled and started the car. “I was thinking change would do me good.”
Robin crept along the verge of the forest, arrow notched as he peered from the underbrush. The great trees loomed over him, casting shadows of green gloom. Ahead, the plain of flowered meadow spread, rolling miles of green toward a distant wood. Nothing moved, the Dead quiet or off in some other pocket of TirNaNog.
He relaxed his bow and strolled into the meadow. The flowers let out a sweet perfume as he passed, rising up from the crush of his foot. He hiked to the top of a low rise and took in the view.
Near the horizon, something dark moved in the grass. Robin chewed on his lip, debating whether to retreat to the forest or continue on. He didn’t feel like fighting today or getting killed again. The dark spot drew closer, running low to the ground. It became an animal shape, not a person, but no less worrisome. Robin was about to retreat when he recognized the animal.
The black dog bounded and leaped in the grass, making straight for him. Robin had nothing to fear from it—he was already dead—but the Cu Sith still liked to kill for sport in the Land of the Dead. Robin notched his arrow, more to threaten than anything else. Sometimes the Cu Sith didn’t want to die that day either and moved on.
The black dog reached the rise. Robin sighted down the length of his arrow, then relaxed. Not all Cu Sith were the same, and this one had taken a liking to him. “Hey, Uno,” he called.
The black dog trotted up the hill and stopped. Robin tilted his head, curious as the dog hunched its back, then flowed up on its hind legs. As if a great wind blew over it, its fur drifted away like smoke.
“Hey, stranger,” Shay said.
Tears shocked from Robin’s eyes. He ran down the hill into Shay’s arms.
The woman awoke to the sounds of chickens. She eased into a sitting position, wincing. She was naked and filthy, covered in dirt and shit. Her back screamed with pain as she stood. She twisted her arm, feeling along the skin, touching scabs. Her hand came away speckled with dried blood.
The chickens became agitated, gathering along the fence. She heard the sound of footfalls and huddled against a wall daubed with mud. A large woman appeared, her face beaten red with sun and wind. She wore homespun, poorly done, and was barefoot. She threw some feed over the fence, turned away, then paused. Placing her hands on the rough fence, she leaned over the rail, her suspicious face becoming angry. “You there! What’re you doin’?”
The woman cowered on the ground, struggling to find her voice. “N-n-noth….”
The larger woman stared, taking in the bare flesh and the dirt, and her face softened somewhat. “What’re you called?”
The woman searched the ground as if to find the answer there. Her mind was a jumble. She didn’t remember how she had arrived in such a place, didn’t understand what had happened to her. A name floated up in her mind, a sound teasing at her memory.
“Mae….” She paused. A sound like that. She thought there might be more, but the idea faded away.
The large woman laughed. “May, is it? Now there’s a bit of luck. Whether for me or thee remains to be seen. Come along then. I could use a girl. I’ll show you were the water ditch is.”
Awkwardly, the woman climbed the low fence.
May, she thought. It felt right, but…. off somehow. She hobbled behind the woman. It was a name as good as any for a girl found in a midden.
Meryl opened her eyes and stared at a night sky. The stars glimmered overhead, placid in their place. She got to her feet, brushing grass off her knees. She twisted a leg, noticing one of
her boot buckles had bent. She leaned down and fixed it, stomping her foot to reposition the leather.
When she straightened, the full moon revealed a long field of new grass. Miles in the distance, an electric light glowed on the horizon. She frowned, trying to place a city surrounded by grass but came up empty. She sighed and adjusted her boots again. They weren’t for hiking, but she didn’t have much choice.
The moon flashed off something in the corner of her eye, and she turned. Puzzled, her eyebrows drew down as she stared at her MINI Cooper sitting on the grass. Then she shrugged and got in.
The radio came on in a roar of static when she started the engine. She played with the tuner, but couldn’t find a station. Opening the console, she popped in a CD and turned it up full blast. As she wheeled the car around, something dangled from the rearview mirror. She stopped and hit the dome light. A silver acorn hung on a chain. She grinned and pulled it on over her head.
Hitting the gas again, she bumped over the grass, driving into the night.
I hear voices, soft voices, whispering words in sorrow. I hear the lapping of waves, the soft caress of the deep. I feel the kiss of sea on my skin, the rock of a barge beneath me.
I am who I always am. I am myself. I am here, again, here on my journey. It begins and ends this way. Someday it will not begin again. Someday it will not end again. Not today.
I reflect on my life as I must, sorting through things done well and things not, and things not at all. Deeds of valor and of fear, of strength and weakness, love and hatred. All the deeds of my life parade before me. Undone deeds mock me. Deeds undone mock me more.
The Wheel of the World turns. It widens as It turns, gathering up speed and urgency, filling with life and love, death and sorrow. It fills until It fails, and collapses again, falling into Itself like a gyre. It turns, the Wheel of the World, and we turn with It. Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity….
Undone Deeds Page 30