by Eleanor Eden
I wanted to show my appreciation. I smiled, anticipating his pleasure when he discovered my plan.
I pulled what we’d dubbed our “grass blanket” off the arm of the couch, then gingerly lifted a lantern we’d picked up at an antique show in the city off the shelf above the wood stove. Remembering the lighter at the last second, I grabbed it and a pillar candle, and slipped back out the open door.
It was easy to lay the blanket out behind the tiny house, then light the lantern and the candle as muffled sounds of movement seeped through the walls. I stopped still, listening as Money climbed to the loft. She isn’t crawling up the stairs tonight, I remarked inwardly with some humor. She’s too tired! I smiled. Good.
I thought back to the time before Jay and Odyssey had appeared, and then even further back to the time Money and I had alone, except for Eve as she grew within me. We’d tried to savor it; we’d known even then that chaos was coming, but hindsight is always clearer than foresight, isn’t it? If I could have travelled back to visit myself then, I would have whispered a warning into my own ear: This won’t last forever.
But now, the night was clear and cool and Eve was worn out from her accomplishments, and though trouble was brewing, we had nothing solid to look forward to; no idea of when this peace would end.
So, I imagined a future self coming back to me now, whispering, Take advantage of any spare second you’ve got! Do it now! After all, hadn’t I advised Jay to do the same earlier that day?
I untied my maternity sundress, letting it fall in a pool to the grass and languishing at the feel of the chill night air on my skin. I took off my underthings, then, and stood in the light of the moon and the candles, running my hands over my bump of a tummy.
I was six months pregnant.
I shook my head, taking a moment to let it sink in. Six months pregnant and with another child who was seven months old just inside. So, thirteen. Thirteen months being pregnant was nearly enough to make me forget what it was like not to be.
I heard Money’s descent of the stairs and jumped into action. I lowered myself to lie on my side on the blanket, the gentle light illuminating my form and casting trembling shadows around me.
I heard him step outside. “Burden?” he called, half whispering, and my stomach did a little turn as I smiled, almost giddy with expectancy.
“I’m here!” I called back, casting a gaze up to the loft, where Eve was tucked in. Making a mental note to be quiet.
Money rounded the corner and stopped short, his eyes widening as he took in my smiling nakedness.
“Would you care to join me?” I asked, then giggled, unable to hold back.
“Well, yeah!” he said, already kicking off his shoes.
“Wait. Come here,” I said, pressing myself up to kneel.
He frowned, but joined me on the blanket, kneeling, too.
I kissed him gently - just a little heat - then pulled his t-shirt over his head. His hands roamed by back and then my breasts as I kissed him again.
“What’s gotten into you?” he muttered against my mouth.
“I love you,” I said, pulling away just a little, then pressing his chest gently. “Lie down.”
His confusion was charming, but he sank to his back, eyes on me. “You’re so beautiful.”
I warmed further, straightening my back as I ran my hands along my torso; sides and hips first, then shoulders, breasts and belly, until they found that hungry part of me and lingered for a moment. His eyes followed my hands, a ravenous excitement building in them as he watched.
As I watched him watching.
Then I undid his belt. “Did she go to bed with any trouble?” I asked lightly, my voice casual as I unbuttoned his jeans.
He nodded. “Uh – no. I mean, yes. She was no trouble. She, uh -” Money fumbled his words when I found him, rock-hard already, and wrapped my hand around him through his briefs.
I giggled, then pulled them down a little, bending so I could tease a bit with my watering mouth.
He stopped trying to form sentences and rested back against the blanket, groaning quietly.
By the time I had him fully undressed, I was aching for him and, nipples taut against the chill air, I straddled him and took him all at once with a cry, feeling powerful, naked and unashamed in the light of the moon.
And I moved in a sweetly painful rhythm, my warm softness squeezing his straining hardness until he was pressing down on my hips and up into me and we came together, my head thrust back when I cried out my joy to the night.
We lay for a long time, my head on his chest, my entire body quieting as his heart slowed to a normal pace. And when the mosquitos began to bite, we jumped up, laughing, and went back around the house, Money wondering aloud, “Do you think we just got you pregnant again?” with an impish grin.
I stopped, gasping as he looked back questioningly, then turned my face to the sky again. “That was just for fun, OK? We’re good, pregnancy-wise!”
Money laughed as I gave the space above me a thumbs-up, then nodded, satisfied. “I think we’ll be alright. Two is enough for one year.” I went into his arms and he held me tight.
“That was wonderful.”
I pulled back a little. “It’s not like we never do it anymore.”
He looked up at the sky, inhaling deeply, then met my gaze. “No, but that felt – big.”
I cast a downward gaze at him. “You’re telling me!”
He laughed again, pulling me to him and rocking us back and forth. A little waltz beneath the stars. Naked and hunted by biting insects, encumbered by armloads of clothes and a blanket, and each of us holding a cooling light – he the lantern and I the candle.
A mess. A blissed-out, perfect mess of happy.
To build us up.
To carry us forward as we tried to stop the world from falling apart.
Chapter 27 – Odyssey
When the not-quite-distant sound of a crowing rooster cut into my dream, I was instantly roused. It had been a good dream, too; I knew that much when I came fully awake, but can’t tell you what it was about, now. Nor was I able to recall it, then - I just remember waking up smiling and regretting the fact that I hadn’t been able to see it through to the end.
My next concrete thought was this: I don’t have a rooster.
I’d had the thought once before, on a day when timing had turned out to be critical - the day I met Jay in downtown Aylmer and he convinced me to let him cook me dinner.
I bolted upright, my heart suddenly hammering. What is it this time?
Money rolled over next to me with a groan and I watched as he nestled back into his pillow. I checked on Eve next; she slept contentedly, her legs curled up into her chest and her bottom in the air. I smiled and covered her with a light blanket, then sat back on my heels.
I noted the muted colors of the rising sun filtering dimly through the skylights, and decided to head outside to practice with them. This gift, according to Jay, wasn’t entirely clear. I was able to manipulate the perception of my own surroundings and those I was close to; I’d done it all my life without realizing it. But the question of whether my influence actually changed the surroundings remained unanswered.
I didn’t mind the mystery of it; I imagined figuring it out had been just as fulfilling as knowing the end result would be.
I reached the main floor, muttering a quiet, “Oh!” when my bare feet touched the cool wood floor. It was July and the chill, even this early, was odd. It was quickly explained, though, with a mere glance out the windows; the air was thick with fog. The encroaching sunrise was blurred by the heavy veil of it, and objects familiar by the clear light of day shrouded in mist.
But there were two shapes I knew did not belong, shrouded or not.
I padded to the patio door and stepped out, rounding the house to the side yard without hesitation, my feet uncomfortably cold in the wet grass. As I neared the garden, whose stakes and neat rows were discernable, now, I heard voices, too.
The
shapes were those of Odyssey and Garrett.
I felt the tension in my shoulders release at the discovery, but frowned, still, as I approached them. The mist thinned with each step, until I could see Odyssey waving me over.
“Burden! Good morning!” she called, her voice clear and cutting easily through the fog.
“Odyssey? Garrett? What are you doing?”
Garrett giggled. “Gardening, of course.”
And as I came to stand beside Odyssey, I could see the truth in it; Garrett smiled up at me from a squat, where, judging by the little pile of wilted greenery beside his feet – which were adorned in oversized rubber boots - he’d been pulling weeds.
I frowned, scanning my cloudy surroundings again and determining the surrealness I felt was largely a result of them. I looked at Odyssey. “What time is it?”
She waved the question away. “Neither of us could sleep, and Jay is already gone, so we thought we’d come see you; make ourselves useful.”
I frowned. “Jay’s gone? Where?”
She made a face. “To Spain, of course,” she turned her head to the trees, her eyes appearing distant, then she looked back at me. “It’s almost time.”
Something in me sparked to life. After so much waiting, I was suddenly confronted with the sadness and fear I’d been holding back for months.
I didn’t want to go.
Odyssey was studying me with a puzzled expression, as she had many times before.
“What?” Being scrutinized by such an exotic-looking creature from close up was rather daunting, especially when the mist was curling around her and her emerald eyes stood out in it like jewels.
She shook her head. “I still feel like I know you; I can’t shake it.”
I shrugged. “Even if that were true, I don’t know you,” I replied, mildly frustrated at the frequent, but seemingly pointless, observation.
“I’m sorry; I see that,” she laughed. “It’s just such an odd feeling.”
We both watched as Garrett shuffled sideways to start on a new section of the garden.
“I am very old,” Odyssey said quietly, “I could be remembering a face from hundreds of years ago…or my memory could be failing,” she smiled, and this time I laughed.
“If it makes you feel better, you’re gorgeous. You don’t look a day over -” I puzzled over her features, then shook my head. “It’s the same with Jay; I guess Missives just look ageless.”
She looked down at her feet, silent.
“How do you know it’s almost time?” I asked, eager to fill the awkward silence.
She folded her arms and shuddered, reminding me how damp and chilly the air was around us. I hugged myself, my short nightgown and bare feet doing little to shield me from it.
She looked at me sideways. “Can’t you feel it? A change in the wind? Something newly dark in the air around you?”
I scanned the mist-covered yard, then the darker trees at the edges. “I guess, if I’m honest, I’d admit I’ve been a bit – antsy lately. I just feel like something’s brewing,” I looked to the sky, which was gradually lightening. “Like a storm.”
She nodded. “Who were your parents?”
I exhaled in a burst, searching her face for some clue to explain the abrupt change in subject.
She was regarding me with that puzzled look, again.
“Didn’t Jay tell you? He knows as much as I do,” I frowned, reluctant to dig through my past just then. Most often, actually.
She nodded, her eyes still on my face. “I know they were Fated and that your mother was lost. And I know your father left you with a wonderful human family, but I don’t know your parents’ names or any details about their lives.
I laughed wryly. “That’s because I don’t know much of anything beyond than that, either.” I looked toward the trees again, noting that the mist was starting to clear.
“Not even their names?”
I sighed. “You’re persistent, aren’t you.”
“Not usually, believe it or not. I mean, I love my work and I’m loyal to it. Seeking the Fated is a passion for me. I’m actually trying to map the known Fated and document what we no longer know…who we no longer know.”
I squinted at her as a cloud moved, unveiling the sun.
“The Fated have changed. They are as much a mystery as they are critical to the balance, and suddenly I find myself digging deeper and pushing harder to do my work.”
I smiled, looking up to the sky. “Do you ever wonder if it’s testing us?”
She laughed without hesitating. “I’m sure it is.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s like a parent, you know? Holding all the wisdom, possessing no need to be the star of any story, and trying to lead it’s children so that they learn the most – the best – they can.”
Odyssey moved the sole of her worn brown boot over the blades of grass, nodding. “You’re wise, Fated.”
“They’ve said that, too. The Entity.”
“I think you’re trying to say that when it appears not to know something, it only does so to have us learn it for ourselves?”
I met her eyes, waiting for her to say more.
“And that it does know; it sees everything -” she gestured around us to the trees and the sky and the ground below, “- from where the Fated are to why they are hiding -”
“- to what will happen when we confront Legion,” I finished, and she let her arm drop, nodding.
“Yes.”
“Do you believe that?”
She shrugged. “As long as I’ve lived and as much as I think I know, life never fails to surprise me – but what I’ve slowly come to realize is that the Entity is very much a reflection of us, and vice-versa. And that it is only whole – it is so great and all-encompassing - because it has existed as long as anything else has, us included. And somehow, it is a collection of everything – all of what lives and dies here, and who knows where else…”
I shook my head. “It makes sense on some levels, but only raises more questions for me.”
“Good,” she nodded, her eyes distant again.
I watched as Garrett plopped down onto his bottom, stretching his legs – which I could see, then, were definitely swimming in an adult-sized pair of boots – in front of him.
“Do you believe it?” Odyssey asked quietly, but Garrett answered first.
“It doesn’t matter, you know.”
Odyssey and I just looked at him.
“Even if we knew everything, we’d still have to deal with the present, and our particular circumstances.” He looked at me. “You’d still wonder and worry about Eve and I’d still be missing my family. And we’d still have to face the awful thing that took them.” He leaned forward, bending his legs to the sides like an overturned frog and toying with a blade of grass. I squinted, focusing on it as the mist cleared further. So green, and Garrett’s fingers as nimble as his words had been.
An odd sense of weightlessness came over me. I scanned the yard, frowning. Everything felt – surreal. “I feel sick,” I said, but my voice was distant.
“What were their names?” Odyssey’s voice echoed in my ear, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with vertigo. I reached out for her, needing something – anything – to hold me upright.
“Their names, Burden,” her voice echoed around me again as I blacked out, seeing nothing, though my eyes were open.
“What’s happening?” I cried, my knees giving out just as she cradled me in her arms and lowered me to the ground.
And then everything was eerily still. I was blind. I was weak. Then her lips were at my ear, whispering, “Did you know a Fated can return as a Missive?” and some memory tried to surface, but it was too distant to grasp. I struggled to hold on to her words as I drifted into darkness, finding myself with no choice but to give in.
And I bolted upright in bed. Again.
Money rubbed his eyes, muttering, “You OK, babe?” beside me.
I glanced at Eve, who was sleeping with her b
um in the air, blanket discarded, and then through the skylights which, contrary to those in what I realized now was a dream, showed me only darkness between the glittering stars.
I reached for my phone.
“Who you calling?” Money muttered.
“Odyssey,” I breathed, some of the dizziness I’d felt as I fell out of the dream and into wakefulness lingering, still.
Chapter 28– Time
Jay’s eyes were dark as I repeated the details of my dream.