Sky Mothers (Born of Shadows Book 4)

by J. R. Erickson

  "I won't leave you in here. Plus, if I get out, you'll know it worked. It's only a matter of time before you'll have a chance. She wants that amulet. She'll go after it."

  "But how can you afford to give it to her?"

  Sebastian shrugged.

  "I don't know."

  ****

  Abby ran through the woods, narrowly avoiding the stump of a massive tree that had grown over with moss. Her heart pounded in her head and her stomach felt sour like she might be sick. Still, she ran until she reached the compound and then went straight to Helena's yurt. It was empty. She checked the kitchen, the greenhouse, the pool, but did not find her. She returned to her own yurt and paced until her body began to emerge once again as the invisibility potion finally wore off.

  She startled Kit walking out of the main entrance of the Sky Mothers compound.

  "Whoa, Abby, is everything okay?" she asked, holding up her hands before they collided.

  Abby paused, breathing heavily.

  "Have you seen Helena or Oliver?"

  Kit nodded.

  "Yes, they drove into town. Helena wanted to buy a souvenir for someone, Lydie I think."

  Abby bit her lip and tried not to scream. Of all the times for Helena and Oliver to disappear.

  "Can I help, Abby?"

  Abby shook her head.

  Kit started to speak and then stopped.

  "I almost said it's going to be okay," she admitted. "An old habit. And maybe it will," she went on at the crestfallen look on Abby's face. "But I don't want to pretend the world is something other than it is. Equal measures joy and sorrow, if we're lucky anyway."

  Abby felt a sudden desire to confide in Kit or to confront her. Could she possibly know about Binda and the pond in the woods?

  "Listen," Kit said. "Maybe I could help you look for stuff about the dream wood. Give you something to focus on?"

  Abby nearly said no, but then changed her mind. Perhaps Kit would let something slip, some bit of information about Binda and the witch in the pond.

  "I'm sure Matilda wouldn't appreciate us fossicking through her stuff," Kit said. "But we can check out the stone cellars."

  "Fossicking?" Abby asked.

  Kit smiled.

  "Sorry, I forget you're not an Aussie. Rummaging, we best not rummage through her stuff. But most everything gets stored in the stone cellars."

  "Is it terrible if I say the stone cellars sound rather ominous?"

  Kit laughed.

  "Don't worry, they're not spooky."

  They walked back toward the gates to the Sky Mothers compound. Kit moved toward a large hump in the earth and peeled back a layer of hanging moss. Abby saw a wooden door set in the hillside. She glanced toward the trees expecting to see Binda emerge at any moment, but no one appeared.

  "Reminds me of The Hobbit," Abby murmured.

  "I read those books," Kit admitted, sliding a heavy skeleton key into the lock. She pushed the door in, and a musty dank smell wafted out.

  The space was cramped, a narrow passageway with stone walls that gradually opened into a large chamber. Boxes, storage totes, and old furniture packed the room.

  "I'm not sure this is the ideal space for storage," Abby mumbled, touching the damp stone walls.

  "It's bewitched. The walls are wet, but the stuff is shielded."

  Abby sighed looking at the mounds of books stacked on a three-legged desk.

  "How will we ever find anything?" she asked.

  As she said it, she remembered a similar comment she'd made months earlier at Sydney and Rod's loft. As if on cue, Kit gave her a wry smile-a smile that mirrored the one Oliver had given her on that prior occasion.

  "Right," Abby laughed.

  "We're witches."

  "I've never been a great summoner," Kit admitted. "But I know a thing or two."

  Kit closed her eyes and held her palms close together. A tiny ball of flame erupted between her palms.

  "Goddess of fire, bringer of light,

  I call forth your gift of sight,

  The dream wood's magic, please make known,

  Deepest gratitude for all that is shown.

  Mote it be."

  The fire in Kit's hands leaped away and lit on a cardboard box stacked in a dark corner at the back of the cellar. The fire did not take, but extinguished the moment it touched the box.

  "Maybe my summoning skills have improved." Kit laughed.

  Abby looked through the box. She found several pieces of clothing, which she assumed were Meghan's. Beneath those, she discovered a framed picture. She lifted it and looked at an image of a small cottage. Two women stood in front of the cabin, their arms clasped around one-another.

  "Binda," Abby said, recognizing the older witch on the left, though she looked much younger in the photo.

  "And that's Meghan," Kit told her.

  "Where is this cabin?" Abby asked.

  Kit wrinkled her brow.

  "I've seen it, maybe two miles back. A heavy hike if you were a human, but a breeze for us magic folk. Shall we check it out?"

  Abby nodded, though she would have preferred to visit the cabin with Helena and Oliver.

  "Let me pop back to my room and grab some decent walking shoes."

  Abby followed her out, staring at the framed photo. The woman in the picture with Binda smiled as if the witches held the whole world between them. How could such a witch become the creature that Binda had spoken to in the pond?

  ****

  Sebastian did not have a watch and doubted it would work if he did. According to Liam, time operated on another sphere in the Forest of Purgatory. He knew that days had passed. Hadn't they? He wanted to trust his instincts that yes, days had passed, but how could he? Nothing felt real. He couldn't believe that Liam could still have a coherent conversation after a year trapped in the place.

  Liam knew how to distract Meghan. During his many plots to kill the dark witch, he'd learned how to get her attention. The most effective included pretending to be her son, Clyde. Sebastian stayed in the cave as Liam walked into the gray light of day.

  "Mother?" Liam called out. He took a few steps and sank to his knees. "Mother? It's Clyde. I've come home, please." He moaned and fell forward, his cry a tortured echo through the forest.

  When the phantoms appeared from the forest, Sebastian stepped deeper into the cave. They had no form, only an oozing blackness that enveloped Liam and dragged him away. The moment they disappeared from sight, Sebastian sprinted from his hiding place. He knew he had minutes at the most before Meghan would realize that Liam was playing her. The distance seemed longer than he remembered and his feet sunk into the soggy grass in excruciating slowness.

  "Please, please," he whispered under his breath, pumping his arms and legs as if his life depended on it, which it did.

  In the distance, the ramshackle house came into view. He sprang onto the bridge and leaped off into the emptiness, glimpsing the Forest of Purgatory a final time before he plummeted into nothingness.

  Chapter 14

  It seemed he fell forever. Falling was not the way he imagined it. It was not like flying. Falling happened at an incomprehensible speed with the wind whipping your face, hair, and limbs in such a way that you stopped being a person and turned into a mushy doll pressed and prodded by the air itself. He felt his lips forced open and fought to clamp his teeth shut. Desperately wanting to close his eyes, but terrified that if he lost consciousness, the dark witch would have time to whisk him back to the Forest of Purgatory, he concentrated on the endless empty sky beneath him. There had to be ground, something somewhere, and then he was on it. Nothing had moved into view before him. In one moment, he flailed through endless space and in the next he lay on his stomach, flat on the ground, his face pressed into the grass. Sweet smelling grass that looked and tasted green and fresh. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and Claire was already there, clutching him around his waist, helping him to his feet.

  "It's about time," she whispered.
"I thought you'd never come back."

  "I have to get out of here, Claire," he told her, spinning in an urgent circle. His stomach lurched when he realized he had landed right next to the pond.

  "I know," she told him. "Let's go."

  They ran through the woods, away from the pond, and when they stopped at the cliff that rose up to the bridge. They both took off into the air, flying to the cliff edge.

  Sebastian paused, feeling the first hesitation at leaving the dream wood. He wanted out, now, but knew he would likely never see Claire again.

  She gave him a fierce hug and then shoved him hard toward the bridge.

  "I'm always with you, Sebastian. Remember."

  Before he stepped onto the bridge, she had vanished.

  ****

  Elda had gone to bed, but Lydie and Cammi stayed up far into the night. Cammi told stories, a million stories, about Allison, Lydie's mother.

  "I don't understand how I lost you," Lydie murmured during a lull in the conversation.

  "Allison and I were so close when we were young, but when your mother turned eleven, she started to change."

  Lydie pursed her lips and stared at the tiny red checks on Cammi's tablecloth. She didn't want to hear anything bad about her mother. It was as simple as that.

  "I didn't know anything about witches," Cammi continued. "Our parents were not witches. However, our great grandfather was a witch, or had been a witch. The first time my sister lit something on fire, my parents panicked. They thought she was acting out, took her to a child psychologist." Cammi laughed and shook her head, running her fingers through her blond curls until they turned frizzy. "A few weeks after the psychologist, a woman visited our house. Celeste was her name and she came all the way from England to meet my sister. I was so jealous. I'm embarrassed to admit it now, but I threw one your mother's favorite dresses in the garbage. Don't worry, I confessed later, and when we were all grown up I bought her a blouse to make up for it."

  Lydie smiled, but didn't interrupt, curious to hear the story of her mother discovering her powers.

  "One day, my parents took me for ice cream and told me that Allison was going away for a while with the nice lady to England, to a school of sorts."

  "They sent her to a coven?"

  Cammi nodded.

  "I wouldn't know that for years. Allison came back every two months and then she'd be gone again. I missed her desperately. My best friend had been taken away and I didn't understand why. She moved home for one summer when we were seventeen and then she met Gary, your dad. He was from Michigan, had a little farm, and worked as a holistic doctor. They met at some big party that I later learned was a witch thing, but at the time, I was still in the dark on all that."

  "The All Hallow's Ball?"

  "Yes, that's the one," Cammi agreed. "On Halloween night. Anyway, she moved to Michigan and we saw each other a few times a year, but life had set us on our separate paths. Your birth brought us back together. Though I had no idea how brief our reunion would be. After your parents were attacked, your mother confided in me. She told me everything, and at first, I thought she was nuts. I kept thinking, who do I call, who can help her? She's clearly having delusions, it must be postpartum psychosis."

  Lydie grabbed another cookie and stuffed it in her mouth. It felt so good to hear the story of her past, but it hurt too, oh how it hurt.

  "Then Gary came home and Cammi admitted she told me. I expected him to pull me aside and say, 'Don't worry, I'm getting her help.' Instead, he brought a bucket of water into the living room and proceeded to create a cyclone six inches from my face. Then he turned the water to ice, and without touching the ice, he carved it into a sculpture of your mother. I nearly fell over then and there, but your mom got me a cup of tea. I was supposed to be there taking care of her, new baby and all, but our roles had reversed. When I calmed down, she lit the fire in the hearth with a thought and then lit every candle in the room and snuffed them out and lit them again without moving from the couch."

  "I still don't understand why I never heard from you," Lydie said.

  Cammi frowned and placed her hands flat on the table.

  "I thought you had died. Your mother told me about the Vepars. When they were attacked and killed, the police said you surely had died as well and they simply hadn't found your body." Cammi started to cry and pulled a napkin from the center of the table to wipe her running nose. "It broke me. I spent a year in a horrible depression, Both of our parents were gone and now my only sister and my only niece had been murdered. I felt so alone in the world. I sold my house and moved to California. Then about five years ago, I came back. I missed Florida. While I was going through my stuff in storage a year ago, I came across a letter your mother had written me after the first attack. She spoke about a coven that was helping to shelter them. I didn't know if the coven still existed or if they'd ever receive my letter, but I had to try. I addressed it to your old home in the hope that they would somehow intercept it. I didn't expect to hear that you had lived. I can barely tell you what that felt like, the most amazing joy. A miracle. I simply hoped to discover what had happened. I felt enough time had passed that I was ready to know, but then Elda contacted me and said that you had survived..." Cammi began to cry again and this time Lydie scooted her chair to her aunt's side. She wrapped her arms around her and they sat that way for a long time.

  ****

  Sebastian raced across the bridge and into the forest. He stopped and looked back at the bridge, thinking of Liam. What had become of Liam? Had the witch realized that Sebastian had escaped? Would she hurt Liam for his part in their plan?

  A figure stepped in front of him as he wove through the trees back toward the Sky Mothers. He stopped and squinted, trying to make them out.

  "Julian?" he asked hesitantly. The person was too large to be Abby.

  Binda moved from the shadows into the light. Her face looked pinched and angry.

  "How did you get out?" she hissed.

  Sebastian didn't respond, but turned and ran. He barely took three steps and his legs froze. He pitched forward and landed hard on his hands. In an instant, he lost feeling in his hands and arms and then his whole body grew numb. His head flopped onto the forest floor.

  Binda rolled him easily onto his back.

  He tried to yell, but his lips and tongue no longer worked. Only his eyes functioned, darting wildly around, with no hope in sight.

  He watched her, terrified. Could Binda return him to the Forest of Purgatory?

  ****

  Faustine paused at the warped tree that revealed the symbol of the fate triad. It looked different. The symbol had faded, sap filling the crevice and hardening into an amber sheath. Stranger still, tiny green buds stood along the branches of the withered tree. Faustine had never seen a bud on the tree. The forest beyond the tree had also changed. The ferns looked less vibrant, less unnatural, as if the magic that had seeped into them had disappeared.

  As he approached the red willow, he paused again, watching and waiting. The willow's scarlet branches had lost some of their color. Many of them had fallen to the earth and sat in heaps rotting on the forest floor. Had the Lourdes somehow abandoned her lair? He walked closer, reaching into his cloak for the powder that Julian had given him. He did not expect to find a Vepar awaiting him, but wanted to be ready. He also did not expect to find the Lourdes. He could not sense her at all.

  He stopped on the mushy red earth that surrounded the willow. At the hole that descended into her lair, a powerful aroma of death hit him full in the face. He immediately pressed a hand over his mouth and nose, his eyes watering. Had she left some animal, or worse, a human in her lair to decay?

  He walked down the roots slowly, pressing his hands into the dirt walls, and training his ears for any sound. Silence greeted him.

  The Lourdes lay slumped over her table. Her face was turned away from him, but he could see and hear the flies buzzing over her rotting body. The Lourdes was dead.

  ****r />
  Binda did not carry him, but levitated his useless body and pushed him ahead of her. They did not return to the Sky Mothers. Instead, she turned away from the ocean and walked him deeper into the woods. After a half hour, they came to a small dark cottage. She opened the door and drifted him inside.

  He had control of only his eyes and he took in every detail. The low plank ceiling stood only a few feet above Binda's head. In the corner, a bed piled with quilts abutted the wall beneath a dark window. Maps and papers cluttered a long wooden drafting table. A single well-worn chair sat next to a wood burning stove.

  Binda directed him to the bed, she pulled back the blankets and rested his body on the mattress. It felt lumpy and old, but better than the vertigo he'd felt while floating.

  She pulled the blankets back over him, despite the heat, and he couldn't help feeling he was being tucked in by an insane grandmother. He would have laughed if he had any control of his vocal chords.

  "You'll be safe here until the amulet has been taken into the dream wood. Then I will set you free. Of course, you won't remember any of this, but that is for the best."

  He wanted to ask why. A thousand questions rose to his frozen lips and were left unspoken. In the world of witches, questions did not have to be asked to be heard, and he knew that Binda heard, if not sensed, all that he wanted to know.

  She poured a glass of water from the sink and sat heavily in the single chair. She looked ancient. The tough, solid witch he'd met when he first arrived at the Sky Mothers was replaced by a paper cutout of her former self-flimsy and empty. As she sipped her water, she watched him.

  "Burning questions, you have, Sebastian. Not knowing is the worst thing of all. Once upon a time, I thought death was worse because then you must accept that someone is gone. Someone that occupied a whole portion of your life will never fill that space again. And they're irreplaceable. That's what no one tells you. People move through life with many partners. They marry and divorce, they change friends and roommates. But when you are truly connected to another, their loss destroys you. Even if you physically survive, the whole of you has been portioned off, cut away. Now you are a half-life. But not knowing is even worse than that. You limp around, obsessed. You are less than a half-life because the part of you that remains is haunted by not knowing, waiting, hoping and dreading."