I am so full of hate that I’m disgusted with myself.
“Lead the way,” I mumble, and I follow her back into the forest, hating myself most of all.
* * *
As I trudge behind Vanessa, the silence only angers me more, so finally I say what has been bothering me most of all. “How are you okay right now?”
She pauses, then continues walking.
“Okay?” she asks. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s as though you don’t care. As though none of this fazes you.”
“Not everyone is so easy to read, Abigail.”
I yank her arm, and she spins toward me. “You lost your son.”
Her brow furrows. “Yes,” she says through her teeth. “And I’ve lost two of his sisters as well. And many of my siblings also never made it to this world. This is part of my reality. Perhaps you should be a little more grateful and respect that everyone grieves in their own way.”
She pulls away from me, and I feel the muscles in my face drooping. Why did I say anything? Was I really so offended by her acceptance of her situation that I would be so insensitive? Who have I become; what has this life turned me into?
I should leave her now. I’ve done enough damage. But I don’t know this area or where to go, and she at least deserves my apology before we part ways.
“You’re afflicted,” Vanessa says, her calm tone returning. It’s as though she has already given me the forgiveness I haven’t yet asked for and certainly don’t deserve. “You’re on the run from both the mortal and immortal world, and you’ve been separated from people you love.”
She doesn’t know about Anna. I don’t think. She must be talking about William and Tess. “I don’t love—”
“Sometimes our mind won’t accept what our heart knows, and that is how we survive.”
I shrug one of my shoulders and try to push away the thought she’s put in my mind. I bite my lip and pick at my fingernails, scraping the dirt from underneath them. It seems I can never get rid of it all.
“Are we far?” I ask.
“No,” she says lightly. My anger at her dissipates a little more each time she speaks in that soft-spoken way of hers. “Another few miles.”
There’s a rustling between the trees, and I pull Vanessa back and hold a finger to my lips. She nods.
I creep slowly to where the trees break and peek through to the path on the other side. A young woman is weeping over a dead body.
A body I recognize.
My stomach seizes, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will away the truth. But I can’t unsee what I’ve seen.
Elizabeth is dead.
She was a good person. A good soul. And now I am almost certain of what I could only surmise before. She was a spirit elemental. I sense this because her spirit is visible to me unlike any other Mort I’ve seen before. She’s not a shadow. In fact, she’s glowing. She stands beside the sobbing woman, rubbing her back, but the woman is unaware of her presence.
“Hang on,” I whisper to Vanessa.
“Oh my.” She gasps, a hand going to her mouth. She shakes her head. “Is that . . .”
I tug her arm, spinning her away from the sight of Elizabeth’s dead body. “Wait here.”
I scan the bushes, looking for something to give me a boost of energy. There’s no nightshade anywhere. I move as quickly as I can without making too much noise, but I don’t see any poisonous plants anywhere. Vanessa had only brought such a small amount of nightshade, and admittedly, I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Only what William and Tess have given me previously.
There are some red and black berries on the ground, but they’re dead. I close my eyes, thinking. I can heal them, but if they aren’t what I need, it will be wasted energy I can’t afford right now. I wave Vanessa over.
“What are these?” I whisper. “Do you know?
“Rosary peas.”
“Are they poisonous?”
“To me, yes. The nightshade didn’t help?”
“I need more,” I mumble, not wasting time to explain.
I pick them off the ground, and they heal at my touch. Then I pop them in my mouth. I eat two whole handfuls, hoping, praying, that these are strong enough to give my spotty abilities a boost.
I walk back toward the scene, watching silently as the weeping woman buries the body and runs away. I wish I could run away from this place, too.
When I am sure the woman is gone, I climb between the breaks in the trees and walk right up to Elizabeth’s spirit. She doesn’t run. She just turns toward me, staring at me with sorrowful eyes. I reach out my hand in offering, and gently she takes it, and although I know I shouldn’t travel again so soon, I do. I take her to a place many years from now, to the Province of Georgia, so that one day soon she can be reborn as Mary Parsons. Because I know the world needs her, or one of her incarnations, and though she might not have survived this lifetime, it wasn’t her time to meet a final end.
When I return, Vanessa simply says, “We ought to move quickly.”
We are so far from where I need to be. I refocus on the here and now: Who went after William and Tess? How did they find them, and are they looking for me, too? If William and Tess escaped, will these people find them again?
I reach in the pocket of my dress and thumb the witch’s ladder I’ve held on to. I take a deep, slow breath, thinking of William, trying for find some connection to him. I’ve connected with an Ankou before, now if I can just focus on one in particular . . .
My fingertips warm, and my palm crackles with sparks. Come on, William. Come on, where are you?
The sparks fizzle. Nothing.
I know this magic works, because I’ve done it before, but at the same time I fear it may be hopeless. I hadn’t been trying to get in touch with anyone specifically the first time. In fact, I hadn’t been trying to get in touch with anyone at all. What if it’d just been a lucky accident?
The ground beneath us gets rockier. Running water roars louder. The sun hits her peak in the sky, then sinks behind the trees. The moon frowns at us as he climbs up behind the night clouds. Finally I do not need the shade of the trees, and the pressure of the sun releases me. My wings are hidden from view now, and that brings me peace. I hate those things, hate that they mark me as being different.
As the day disappears for good, complete peace and silence claim the forest—eerily quiet, as though even void of wildlife. But I still cannot connect with William. I cannot hear even a whisper of his voice.
Verity would call the lack of birds an omen. A bad omen. God, I hope she’s safe now.
We climb between large boulders and through a narrow trail of overgrown underbrush until we reach a small clearing. There are pinecones—so many that it’s impossible to walk without stepping on them. My center of balance jolts as one rolls beneath my foot.
On the other side of the clearing, trees grow so close together they nearly create a solid wall, but Vanessa squeezes through a small opening and waves for me to follow. On the other side, she pushes aside the branches of a large bush, revealing a small opening to what appears to be a cave hidden beneath moss and wild vines.
Only little slivers of moonlight illuminate the inside of the dark cave. The air is damp, metallic, and reeks of wet pine.
I sit on the gritty stone floor to rest, but Vanessa keeps moving about. She lights a small lantern, reaches her hand into her apron, and drops a pile of herbs and berries into a wooden bowl that was stored toward the back of the cave.
She passes me the bowl. “I thought you might still need more to eat.”
It’s not just nightshade this time. It’s a variety of poisonous plants she must have gathered as we travelled. “We never talked about...”
“I’m probably more familiar with your nature than you are,” she says. “Your kind has helped many against the Maltorim, against the Morts, and against the corrupt Cruor that plague this world.”
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I blurt out. I don’t
know what else to say. Obviously not all Ankou are noble. At least I’m not.
“Don’t worry.” She sweeps her hair away from her face, then points at the witch’s ladder I’m still fumbling with in my hands. “You couldn’t reach your friend?”
I shake my head.
“He might still be okay.”
“You don’t really think that,” I say, trying to measure her reaction. Her lips tremble, and I take it that my accusation was true.
“You said there were two people supposed to be at the cabin,” she says. “Did you try the other one?”
“Tess,” I say, more to myself than to Vanessa. “No. No, I haven’t.”
What would be the point? If anything, I’m less connected to Tess than to William.
“You ought to try. Otherwise, I can bring you to the Chibold. They might be of help.”
I only vaguely remember William and Tess telling me about the Chibold. That they are the only accurate way to communicate with the Universe.
“Thanks,” I mumble quietly.
Vanessa smiles. “I need to hunt for my own food now,” she says. “I’ll be back in a while.”
Is she hunting or just trying to give me some privacy? She’s been by my side since we’ve escaped, trying to help. Doesn’t she have someone she needs to reunite with?
After Vanessa heads out, I try again with the witch’s ladder to connect with William. When that fails, I cave and try Tess.
The speed of my connection with her unnerves me, but I heave a sigh of relief to have made contact.
Cord?
Tess, it’s me. I don’t have time to explain. Are you and William safe?
Yes. Where are you?
I am going to come to you two, if you are where William said you would be.
We are...We’ve been trying to think of a way to get to you. How did you get in my head?
A witch’s ladder?
That’s unusual for an Ankou...How did you escape?
My magic wasn’t working there. Iron. I had to fight my way out.
The effects should wear off soon, but you have to keep low. Don’t use your abilities. We can’t risk you drawing attention to yourself.
Okay, I won’t use them anymore. What else do I need to know?
Cordovae! You didn’t!
I can’t change what’s done! Just tell me what to do now.
Head west toward the mountains. But I have to warn you first: There will be many Morts and Cruor around the edges of the forest. Avoid those areas if you can. And don’t trust anyone. No one, or you might lead the wrong people to us. You MUST come alone. We’d come to you if we could, but it’s more likely you can get to us unnoticed since we’ve already been spotted. In the meantime, I have to go stop William. He’s on his way to try to get arrested in your town.
No! Why would he do that?
I tried to stop him. Just hurry here. Maybe he’ll listen to me now.
Please stop him. I’ll be there soon.
I drop the connection. There’s still so much I need to talk to Tess about: Elizabeth—the woman I sensed might be a spirit elemental—and what happened to me while I saved Verity...how my teeth had turned to sharp points. And why was it unusual that I contacted her with a witch’s ladder? I push those thoughts away. Right now, Tess needs to focus on stopping William. The rest of my questions can wait.
As soon as Vanessa returns, I need to leave. Without her. Or I could leave now, but...no, she deserves an explanation. I only hope that the traveling I did earlier has not already put us all at risk.
Anxiety creeps over me, almost as itchy as the bitter cold of this late winter night. I don’t know the area or much about the elemental world. Vanessa would have been a helpful guide. Regardless what Tess thinks, I can trust her, but perhaps it’s best I leave her behind for other reasons. The less people with me as I travel, the less likely I am to be spotted.
As I lean my head back against the cave wall to rest before the journey ahead, a fragment tingles at the corners of my mind, and for once I am glad to give in to it, to be carried away by the worries that are behind me—the worries I cannot change and no longer stress about.
I’m playing in a creek with a small blonde girl. We’re catching tadpoles. They’re almost too fast for us, and when they’re not, they’re so surprisingly slimy that we squeal and let them go before we can get a good hold on them.
I can’t remember the girl’s name because when she introduced herself I was distracted, thinking about how she probably has a perfect life with a normal family. Not a father who recently started visiting her room every night. I’m too shy to ask her again what her name is, so when I want her attention, I just say, “Hey!”
All summer we hang out together. One day we even catch a frog and don’t freak out or let it go. We keep it in a shoebox with holes poked in top, but it escapes when we open the lid to take a peek.
One night, I’m helping Mama shell peas and telling her about our day when Pa walks into the kitchen from the living room.
‘I don’t want you hanging ‘round with that girl no more,’ he says. ‘Catching frogs? That’s what you two have been doing all summer?’
‘But Pa—’
‘No buts. She’s not a very lady-like influence on you, and you can bet girls like that use people like you. Before you know it, she’ll have boys joining you to play kissing games and offering you up to any guy that’s interested. That’s how girls become whores, having friends like that.’
‘We’re not seeing boys! Pa, you’re not making any sense! We’re just—’
‘That’s my final word, Rose. Don’t test me.’
I don’t have it in me to fight for her friendship. I can’t talk freely to Pa anymore. Not since the darkness came.
As the fragment fades, I wish more than anything I could have a friend. Someone I could confide in and would never have to leave behind. Perhaps I’m not meant to have friends. I’ve left Verity behind, and now I’ll have to leave Vanessa behind as well.
But I can live without friends if the Universe would grant me just one person in my life—the one person I will always fight for.
Anna.
It always comes back to Anna.
* * *
A light trickling of water draws my attention deeper into the cave. A small stream runs along the back wall, and I use the water to wash up. The water has pooled a bit and gives off a stagnant smell, but my touch purifies every drop. Realizing it won’t be so easy to hide what I am during my travels, I frown. I’ll need to go completely unseen. But I make the most of it and scoop some of the water into a tall jug, thinking Vanessa will need some clean water to drink in her travels as well. I’ll miss having her with me.
While she’s gone, I weave together some twigs with red berries that were rotting in the cave but renewed at my touch. At first it is just to pass the time, but soon I realize I’m making a hair wreath for Vanessa.
Something stomps overhead, shaking the cave and sending dirt cascading into my hair. I drop the wreath, my hand giving favor to cover my mouth and stifle a gasp. More thumping, like thunder cracking against the ground in quick succession—but there is no storm tonight. Horses, I realize, right before I hear the lighter thud, then voices that I can’t make out.
People. Good people or bad people, it’s still bad news for me. Minutes later, wisps of smoke float into the cave. Thank God it’s not cedar. The last thing I need now is an allergic reaction. They must have set up camp just above the cave. I keep my breathing as quiet and shallow as I can, though I’m certain they aren’t aware of me beneath them as I am of them above.
Hours later, Vanessa creeps back into the cave. She’s worse for wear, twigs tangled in her hair and dirtier than she was when she left. If that’s even possible.
“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “They can’t see us from where they are, and even if they knew we were here, they would never figure out how to get here.”
I press my lips together and nod. “But I do need to l
eave soon.”
“Of course.”
“Alone,” I say apologetically. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, though. Will you be all right?”
“Absolutely,” she says, patting my knee. “You’ve done enough for me.”
“And you for me,” I offer.
The night air is so cold that even Vanessa—with all the warmth the Strigoi are known to have—is shivering. It strikes me it’s not just the cold that makes her body tremble, though. It’s the loss of her child.
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” I ask again.
“I’ve spent the last eight months living as a mortal. So I wouldn’t...well . . .” She chokes up. “You know we can’t shift when we’re pregnant, or—”
“I understand,” I say, so she doesn’t have to say it. I don’t think she wants to, and I don’t want to hear it, to be haunted any further than I already am by the image of her stillborn child.
“Those months have made me weaker,” she says, “but you see how fast I have recovered already. In a few days, I’ll be fit to leave here.”
I hope I will recover as easily. My pain has ebbed, but I’m still not myself. The aches coursing through every limb in my body are nauseating. But I can’t let that slow me down; I need to make some ground tonight.
“You’ll do great,” she adds. “You were made for this.”
I sigh my doubts. “I’m not sure.”
“You made it this far.”
“With your help,” I point out.
“You may not have needed my help if you hadn’t been trying to save me. I’ll never forget you, Abigail.”
“Cordovae,” I say. “My name, in my heart and in your world, is Cordovae.”
Sharing this with her makes me feel as though we’re closer. As though we can keep a connection even if we never see each other again.
“Well, then, Cordovae—thank you. For everything.”
I nod and, before I realize what I’ve done, my arms are wrapped around her. I release her and bend to lift the wreath I made her from the ground. I place it on her head like a halo. She smiles, and I return the gesture. But the soft moment withers as anxiety creeps through my veins.
COME, THE DARK: (Forever Girl Series Book Two) Page 18