by Anne Bishop
She sighed, but she also smiled—and wondered what the Den’s residents would say when they discovered the greenery.
Stepping out of the alley, she picked up her pack and looked around. She could spare an hour or two. Might as well take a stroll along the main street and listen to the hearts of the Den’s residents before she went searching for Sebastian.
Lynnea slipped into the dark kitchen. But as she breathed a sigh of relief, she heard the scuff of a slipper, felt the stir of air before the heavy leather strap hit her across the back.
She cried out, but softly, knowing the punishment would be worse if she made any noise that was loud enough to wake up Pa or Ewan.
One of Mam’s strong hands grabbed her hair, yanking her head down to hold her in place, while the other hand worked the strap with brutal efficiency up and down her back, buttocks, and thighs.
“Trollop,” Mam hissed. “Slut. Whore. You think I don’t know what you’re up to?”
“I didn’t do anything bad. I just went for a walk.”
“I know what kind of walk girls take when they slip out of the house at night. I didn’t take you in and raise you up so you could run off and keep house for some man. As if something like you deserved to have a husband and children. You’re nothing but trash abandoned by the side of the road. Just trash I took in out of the goodness of my heart, hoping I could raise you up to be a decent girl. But you were born trash, and you’ll always be trash. Should have left you to die. That’s what I should have done.”
“I just went for a walk!”
The protest made no difference. The words and the blows continued until Mam had said what she wanted to say. Until Lynnea’s back ached unbearably from the strap and her heart felt scoured by the words.
Then a creak of a floorboard upstairs had Mam giving Lynnea’s hair a final yank before she stepped back.
“The man’s up. Get out to the henhouse and fetch the eggs.”
Lynnea shuffled over to the wooden counter next to the kitchen sink. Her hands shook so badly, she spilled the matches all over the counter when she opened the matchbox to light the lantern.
Cursing quietly, Mam grabbed the box and lit the lantern’s candle. “Useless. That’s all you are. A waste of time and money. Git out there now. Git.”
Taking the lantern, Lynnea moaned as she bent down to pick up the egg basket.
“And don’t you be whining and moaning,” Mam said. “You got less than you deserve, and you know it, missy.”
Another floorboard creaked.
Lynnea left the kitchen as fast as she could. If Pa came down and realized something was wrong, things would get worse. Much, much worse.
But when she got to the henhouse and hung the lantern on the peg by the door, she just stood there, staring at the sleepy hens.
This was her life. Nothing but this.
She couldn’t remember her life before the farm. Didn’t have her own memory of how she’d come to live with Mam and Pa and Ewan, just Mam’s story about finding a little girl abandoned by the side of the road.
I found you by the side of the road, and I can put you out again just as easily, and don’t you forget it, missy. You earn your keep or you go back to the road with nothing more than the clothes you’re wearing—just like I found you.
There had never been any kindness in Mam. She seemed to love Ewan and Pa in a cold sort of way, but she’d never shown even that cold kind of love to the little girl she’d taken in. Maybe she’d longed for a daughter of her own and that was the reason she’d stopped that day to pick up an abandoned child.
Why didn’t matter anymore. Every mistake—and a child could make so many—had been followed by the threat of being taken down the road and abandoned again. She’d never felt safe, had lived in fear that this would be the day she would make the mistake that would end with her being tossed out like a used-up rag.
And yet, when she tried to remember that day on her own, she remembered it differently. She could feel herself as that little girl, happy and full of anticipated pleasure as she roamed the edges of a clearing and then followed a path in the woods, picking flowers for her mama. When she came out of the woods, she was standing on the edge of a road, holding a double fistful of flowers. And her mama had gotten lost.
Then the lady, Mam, came by with the horse and little wagon. She stared at Lynnea, who was trying to be brave and not cry because her mama was lost.
You’re the answer to a wish, Mam said as she got down from the wagon. What’s your name, child?
Lynnea. I picked flowers for Mama, but she’s lost.
I’m going to be your mama now.
Mam picked her up and put her in the wagon. Not on the seat, but on the floor. Then Mam climbed into the wagon and slapped at the horse to make it run very fast.
Lynnea used her sleeve to wipe away the tears. She didn’t know if that was a true memory or just wishful thinking that changed Mam’s story so it didn’t hurt so much. Just as she didn’t know if she really remembered a man and woman calling her name, over and over, as if they were searching for her.
Didn’t matter now which story was true. It had all happened a long time ago. Sixteen years, in fact. She knew that because not long after she’d come to live with Mam, Ewan had his sixth birthday and Mam had baked a cake as a special treat. That evening, when she was getting ready for bed, she’d told Mam her birthday so Mam, who was her new mama now, would know what day to bake the cake.
But she didn’t get a cake for her birthday. Not that year, not any year. Because cakes took time and money to make. Cakes were for real children, not someone like her.
She no longer remembered when her birthday was. Didn’t want to remember. And she couldn’t remember how old she had been the day Mam found her by the road. But she knew it had been sixteen years ago because Ewan had turned twenty-two last week—and Mam had baked him a cake.
I wish I lived in a different place. I wish someone could love me.
Foolish wishes. Just like every other wish she’d ever made.
Wiping her eyes one last time, Lynnea began collecting the eggs.
Muttering to herself, Glorianna tromped down the lane toward Sebastian’s cottage. She’d seen him and Teaser zipping down the main street on a demon cycle, heading for the other end of the Den, but there hadn’t been time to call out. Sebastian had a pack, so he must be planning to cross over to another landscape for a visit.
Opportunities and choices. She’d missed the chance to talk to Sebastian, so another pattern of events would take shape. That was the way of the world. That was the way of life.
She had known from the moment she’d looked into the green eyes of a wary boy and felt his heart’s strong desire to belong in the nice house with the kind woman and the children who weren’t being cruel that her connection with Sebastian was different from her connection with Nadia and Lee. She had known, in a child’s instinctive way, that she and Sebastian would have a powerful influence on each other’s lives. She hadn’t known then that loving her cousin and wanting to help him would break the pattern of her life so completely, but…
Opportunities and choices. She had made the choice because of Sebastian, but it had been her choice. And even though she’d never been able to put the pattern of her own life back together in a way that made it whole, she didn’t regret her choice. Had never regretted her choice. Because it had saved him.
“Sebastian,” she said—and smiled.
A swell in the currents of power washed through her, leaving her breathless. She stopped walking, just stood in the middle of the lane while she absorbed the feeling that had touched her.
Heart wish. A powerful one. The kind that would send ripples through the currents of the world.
“Sebastian?” she whispered—and felt the heart wish wash through her again.
So. The heart wish had come from him. Maybe that was the reason for his urge to visit another landscape.
Despite what she’d seen in the alley—and her suspi
cions of how that particular landscape had been inserted into her own—she felt her heart lift. There had been so much possibility of Light in Sebastian’s heart wish. He’d had opportunities to leave the Den and cross over to another landscape, but he’d been blind to them because, despite wanting a change, he hadn’t been ready to change his life. Maybe this time he would follow his heart.
The Den wouldn’t be the same if he left, but the Den, too, had been changing over these last few years, so this might be the time for the man and the landscape to go their separate ways. A bad time, to be sure, but a Landscaper had no right to interfere with a person’s life journey, no matter the cost.
She started walking again, anxious to reach the cottage. Sebastian wouldn’t mind her bedding down on his couch for a few hours. She needed some time to rest. She needed the peace of solitude so she could think.
But when she got close to the cottage, another swell in the currents of power washed through her. This one was fainter, as if it were a ripple of something that had begun a long way away, but no less powerful.
Another heart wish. And something more.
Glorianna reached under her hair and rubbed the back of her neck to get rid of the prickly feeling.
For good or ill, a catalyst was moving toward the Den—a person whose resonance would bring change. And that change seemed to center on the cottage.
She went inside and hoped Sebastian hadn’t rearranged the furniture since her last visit. Feeling her way in the dark, she reached the couch without tripping over anything, dropped her pack beside it, then slumped in one corner, knowing that if she stretched out she would never make the effort to get up and rummage for something to eat.
Nothing to be done about the heart wishes or the catalyst. Things were in motion, but a hundred possibilities could change the pattern that might bring those heart wishes and the catalyst together. Right now she needed to think about the alley and a landscape that had been taken out of the world long ago and shouldn’t be able to touch the rest of Ephemera. And she needed to think about a possibility she didn’t want to consider.
Sighing, Glorianna rubbed her hands over her face.
Only one way to find out. After she got some rest, she would go to the Landscapers’ School and look at the forbidden garden, just to reassure herself that the Eater of the World was still contained behind a stone wall.
Chapter Four
“Hoo-whee! You lucky I came along,” William Farmer said.
“Yeah,” Sebastian muttered. “Lucky.”
“Don’t usually pick up strangers this close to a bridge. Can’t never tell what might be crossing over from another place. But you look like a regular fella.”
The farmer spent a minute making various noises at the two horses pulling the wagon, which didn’t seem to have any effect on the animals. It certainly didn’t increase their speed.
Travel lightly. Sebastian closed his eyes and tried to feel grateful that the farmer had offered him a ride. Even if he’d followed the cart path that had led from the bridge, he could have spent days trying to reach Wizard City, getting detained one way or another over and over again. His reluctance to get anywhere near the wizards was at odds with the knowledge that it was what he needed to do. But Ephemera responded to the heart, not the head, so the landscape would have provided obstacles to keep him from reaching the city, turning the journey into a battle of wills—his against Ephemera. He still would have reached the city eventually, but the people he’d left behind in the Den didn’t have time for eventually.
So when he’d reached the spot where the cart path joined the main road at the same moment the wagon was passing by, he’d accepted William Farmer’s offer of a ride for what it was—a sign that the journey would go smoothly if he didn’t turn away from the gifts that were offered.
No one ever said gifts like this came without a price.
But, he thought with a sour glance at the farmer, if he had to listen to the man hoo-whee all the way to Wizard City, the price of this particular gift was a bit steep.
“You really going up to Wizard City to talk to a wizard?” William asked.
“I am.”
“Hoo-whee! Don’t know as I’d want to do that. They’s not like regular folks. Don’t matter that they’s the Justice Makers. Got that magic in them that makes them different. Wouldn’t want to be jawing with the likes of them.”
Sebastian looked sideways at William. “Have you ever seen a wizard?”
“Seen ’em, sure. They prowl the marketplaces in the city from time to time just like everybody else. But never talked to one—and hope I never do.”
Something—a change in inflection, a shift in the way William held himself—made Sebastian look at the man more closely.
“Why do you do that?” he asked, curious.
“Do what?”
“Talk like that. You’re not a hayseed.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” William sounded indignant.
Sebastian smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “You try too hard. The hayseeds I’ve run across always give themselves away, but they try to talk better than they do at home. You roll in the words like a…” He couldn’t think of anything to compare it to that wouldn’t be an insult.
“Like a pig in muck,” William said.
Sebastian tipped his head. “All right.” He paused, then added, “You may be a farmer, but you’re not a hayseed.”
William was silent for the first time since he’d picked up Sebastian. Finally he said, “Are you going to rob me?”
“I’m not a thief,” Sebastian snapped. “Besides, robbing you after you gave me a ride”—Wouldn’t be a kindness—“would be wrong.” He studied the farmer in the dusky light. The clothes were sufficiently worn-out to be a practical choice if a man was going to spend a day traveling along muddy or dusty roads—or they could have been the best clothes the man owned. As soon as he’d heard William speak, he’d assumed the latter. And any would-be thief, after listening to William for a minute, would figure there was nothing easy to steal and either endure the chatter for the length of the journey or escape at the first crossroads that offered an excuse to leave.
All in all, it provided a camouflage against potential predators that didn’t change the resonance of the man’s nature, like a rabbit whose fur changed from brown to white to better match the land when summer turned to winter.
Sebastian looked over his shoulder at the baskets of fruits and vegetables that filled the back of the wagon. “Isn’t there a market closer to your home? You said it’s a day’s journey to the city.”
William nodded. “And today it was a long day’s journey. I usually reach the city well before sunset. Guess those delays were meant for a reason.” He shrugged. “I sell half of what I harvest at the market in my town. The other half I bring up to the city.”
“Why?”
“It’s a kindness.” William hesitated. “Someone told me that what you give to the world comes back to you. I guess there’s truth in that.”
Sebastian looked away. The waning daylight was enough to travel by, but not enough, he hoped, for the farmer to see his face clearly.
He remembered Glorianna, with those clear green eyes focused on him, telling him the same thing. What you give comes back to you, Sebastian. It’s not tit for tat—life isn’t that simple—but what you give always comes back to you.
His heart ached. He missed his cousins. Especially Glorianna. There was a bond between them, something more than he felt with Nadia or Lee. Nothing…carnal. Never that, despite his nature. But her words had always sunk deep into his heart, had been the reason he’d learned to consider human needs as well as his own when he hunted as an incubus. Hearing her words coming from a stranger…
No matter what landscapes she might be walking now, no matter what she might be doing as a rogue Landscaper, Glorianna Belladonna wouldn’t bring terrifying death into a landscape. Guardians and Guides, the world held enough of its own terrors without unlea
shing more.
“It’s like this,” William said. “A few years ago, things were bad. The farm is good land, and I worked hard, but I could never make things what they could be. Crops were poor, and I couldn’t get a decent price at the market. I turned to drink, and I turned mean. Stone-hearted, I guess you could say. Blamed my neighbors, blamed the merchants, blamed the land. Blamed everyone and felt sorry for myself.
“So one day I packed the wagon and came up to Wizard City. The merchants laughed at the country farmer, and the price offered for what I had in the wagon…Might as well throw it in the street as take what they were offering.
“It was close to sunset, and I was on my way home, since I couldn’t afford to spend the night in the city. I picked up this girl walking along the road. Was going to drive by, but she lifted a hand and asked if she could have a ride to the next bridge. Said it would be a kindness.”
William shook his head. “Don’t know why I stopped. I wasn’t feeling kindly toward anyone. But I gave her a ride. She asked about the produce in the wagon, and I spoke my mind, poured it out like I was draining a festering wound.
“When I was done, she said, ‘There are people in the city who could use the food in this wagon. The poor in the outer circle. The children who are outcast for one reason or another, who feed on despair and never know the sweet taste of hope. A stone heart can only harvest stones. What you give to the world will come back to you.’”
“And I said, ‘Who says so?’ and she said, ‘I do.’”
“‘And who are you?’ And she said—”
“Belladonna,” Sebastian whispered.
William nodded. “Didn’t know what that name meant. Not then. But after I let her off near the next bridge—almost the same place where I met up with you, as a matter of fact—I turned the wagon back to the city. Went to a poor section in the outer circle and sold off my produce for pennies.
“Some of the youngsters couldn’t even scrape up a penny between them for a handful of fruit and a few vegetables.”