Aster Wood and the Child of Elyso (Book 4)

by J B Cantwell

  At this question, Mom was quiet for a long time, and I had started to wonder if she had fallen asleep. But then, just as my own mind started to wander as sleep overcame me, she whispered her answer into the dark warmth of the room, and it filled my veins with ice.

  “No.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  She was screaming.

  Jade hung from the precipice, the same one within the Fire Mountains that she had left me dangling from at the moment she had lost all reason. I stood above her, watching her, her green eyes piercing my own as loudly as her screams pierced my eardrums.

  “Aster!” she begged. “Help me!”

  I felt frozen, unable to decide whether to trust her again.

  She only wants to save herself.

  I started to kneel down, to extend my hand, but the thought brought me up short.

  She’ll kill you.

  One of her hands slipped off the rock, and suddenly she was dangling by just five fingertips, gripping onto the last piece of mountain before her strength gave out, before she would be sent careening to her death.

  “Aster!” she screamed, her body flailing as it hung over the great chasm.

  My body made the decision for me, and I dropped to the rock, flat against my stomach. I held out one hand, and in an instant, she gripped it with her free one. With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I hauled her up the side of the rock. She held my arm with both hands now, and with one final lurch, I thrust her over the edge until she, too, rested on her stomach. We both lay, panting and sweating, catching our breath.

  I sat up, staring down at her, the girl who had put me through so much. She had made me doubt myself. She had left me for dead, and when that didn’t work, had attacked me outright. But the eyes that had looked up at me as she had dangled had been her own, not the Corentin’s. She sat up, and I waited for her to thank me. I was eager to hear her words, to determine if I had made the right decision based on her response.

  But words didn’t come from her lips.

  Only screams.

  She backed up, scrambling away from me, staring wildly at me as if I were the devil, himself.

  “Jade, what are you—” I began, but it was no use. Her wails of terror echoed against the cavern walls. From deep below, I heard her screams joined by those of dragons.

  “Jade!” I hissed. “Stop screaming! They’ll come!”

  But she didn’t stop. When her back finally hit the wall, and there was nowhere else for her to flee, she simply sat and stared as scream after scream ripped from her lips and, finally, ripped me from the dream.

  I was on the floor of the cabin. I lurched to sitting, stared around in a panic.

  Just a dream.

  Then who was screaming now?

  The sound didn’t echo here, and instead was close to my head, so close that I clapped my hands over my ears and backed away, too distracted to even realize what was happening. But the early morning light was coming through the window, and I saw the face of the person making the sound. Saw the terror on her face.

  It was Cait.

  Relief flooded through me as I realized what was happening. Another dream.

  “Cait, it’s okay,” I said, trying to reach out to her, to calm her.

  She scrambled backwards, just as Jade had done in my dream only moments before.

  “Cait, it’s Aster,” I said. “It was only a dream.”

  But that was the wrong thing to say. Confirming my name only increased her terror, and she screamed louder and louder as each second passed.

  Mom was on her feet, blearily staring around the tiny room, trying to figure out what was happening. Seeing Cait, she lurched towards her, gripped her body in a tight hug, tried to rock her. Cait fought wildly at the restriction, arms and legs flailing, fingernails digging into Mom’s forearm.

  “Calm down!” I yelled, trying to match her energy. “Remember the glow!”

  She turned away, her chin held against Mom’s shoulder, still scrambling desperately to make her escape. I went around the other side and forced her to look into my face.

  “I have the glow, Cait!” I yelled. “I can’t be him if I have the glow!”

  As the words came out, I suddenly understood that they were true. It wasn’t me she was fleeing, it was the Corentin. Something about the dreams or visions she was having were confusing her, making her think that I had somehow become the monster she so feared.

  Suddenly, at my voice, her thrashing stopped, and her eyes got a glazed sort of look in them. Mom still gripped onto her, but she now hung limply in her arms, her mouth slack. Then, a cloud of black mist began to threaten the corners of her eyes, bleeding into the whites like ink into water. I backed up, alarmed, as the same black irises I had seen in Jade, in Owyn, in the Coyle, began to dominate those of the little girl.

  “You cannot run,” she said quietly, her voice gravelly and decades older than her own.

  “No,” I said, barely able to breath. “No.”

  NO NO NO.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Her lips slowly stretched into a sneer. As her body relaxed, Mom’s hold did, too.

  “Mom!” I yelped. “Don’t let her go!”

  But I was too late. Cait launched over Mom’s shoulder and slammed into my chest. The force of her leap knocked me backwards, and I found myself on the floor with her straddling me, those too-familiar black irises staring down at me.

  “He said I can’t kill you,” she said. “But I can. No man can stop me, no matter how old, no matter how burned, no matter how badly he wants to save his precious Fold.”

  I tried to sit up, but her little body was heavy against mine, holding me pinned to the ground as if she weighed a thousand pounds. My mind raced as I tried to put the pieces together, tried to understand what was happening. But she was too fast. He was too fast. Her hands fastened around my throat and squeezed with the strength of someone ten times my size. I gagged, and then all the air flow stopped, and nothing got in or out.

  “Cait!” Mom screamed, suddenly realizing that I lacked the strength to throw her off me.

  She stood up and grabbed her arms, tried to wrench her free. Cait fought, her black eyes glinting in the dim light, her mouth opening into a snarl as if she were readying herself to tear me to shreds with nothing but her teeth.

  Mom seemed to understand the danger, seemed to register that the little girl was somehow hurting me, was somehow far more powerful in that instant than I was. Her face became wild, like an animal defending her cub, and with a force I did not expect she grabbed for Cait’s arms again and ripped them away. I was certain in that instant that she was also alight with the glow of power that Cait was so used to seeing, though I saw nothing but the terrifying look on her face. She picked up Cait and threw her across the room, where she landed against the sofa. Mom turned in front of me and took a defensive stance, ready to fight.

  But Cait crumpled, and when she looked up again she seemed confused, their original blue returning. As she came back to reality, she seemed to realize what had happened. Her face scrunched into a look of pain so intense that the howl that burst from her throat did not do it justice.

  I scrambled to my feet, pushing past Mom’s arms, still outstretched to protect me.

  “It’s okay,” I said, both to Mom and to Cait.

  I crossed the floor in three long strides, picked up the little girl and hugged her to me. I should have been terrified of her, but in that instant I was more worried about her than anything else in the world.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s over now.”

  She didn’t have the chance to fight me. Her body slumped into mine, exhausted and tortured, and I rocked her back and forth like I had seen Mom do days before.

  “What is going on?” Mom yelled, unable to keep her voice calm.

  Everyone else had awakened at the struggle, and five confused sets of eyes watched our exchange.

  I held her tighter.

  “He broke through,” I said.
I felt like I might pass out, the only thing keeping me conscious was the tormented little girl in my arms. “The Corentin. He possessed her.”

  He can possess her.

  From the other side of the cosmos.

  “It’s okay,” I said again. Rocking. Rocking.

  But it wasn’t okay. Something had changed. Or had it? Hadn’t I suspected it, myself? Hadn’t I thought that my own father had been possessed, just like Cait had been now? Wasn’t I, in fact, hoping that that was the case? That there was hope in saving him?

  I had thought that, did still think that. But I hadn’t counted on him finding other ways to target me, other people to destroy along his path to destroying me.

  I should have known. I remembered all those children, lined up in tidy rows in the Coyle’s tent, their eyes blank and staring. I had hoped that, getting far away, Cait would be able to leave all that behind. That she could find peace here, even on this broken planet, far away from the one who had tormented her for so long.

  As the truth came crashing down around me, I realized that no distance would make Cait safe. Or Dad. Or anyone. The Corentin wanted me now. He would not stop until, somehow, he had me either in his command or dead.

  I looked around the room. Carl and his children were huddled together on the staircase, even the tall, powerful man fearful and confused.

  Nobody was safe. He would strike again and again, as long as he could find me. His words, spoken through Cait, had been true; I couldn’t run. Not for long, at least. He would find me and target whoever traveled in my company. He would take them all, one by one, until nobody remained to me but an army of people who had once been my friends and had fallen to the enemy in exchange for their allegiance.

  Dad was already far gone, though whether possessed or truly mad, I didn’t know. I did know that I had to find him, that I had to try to bring him back with me. There was a chance he could be healed, just as I had. Then, maybe together we could discover some way to defeat the monster that had caused all this destruction.

  And he had the gold.

  I hugged Cait tighter as I realized what I had to do.

  I looked up into the face of my mother. It had only been days that we had been reunited. She wouldn’t understand. But I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t watch her fall, too. If I allowed that to happen, I felt sure I would break into a thousand pieces. I had to keep her safe. And the only way I could think to do that was to get away.

  When my eyes met Grandma’s, though, I was surprised by what I saw there. A respect I had never seen before stared back at me. She looked at me like she understood my mind, though how I had no idea.

  I released Cait, who slumped to the floor in a heap.

  “We have to go,” I said.

  I stared around the room, began collecting my scant belongings and stuffing them into my bag. I took the water jug Grandma had brought in to share with Carl and packed it into the top section of the backpack, sliding the drawstring closure tight and tying it into a knot. I heaved the pack over my back and took a deep breath, staring at Mom.

  “We can’t go,” she said. “He said three days. Don’t you remember? It’ll be three days at least.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said.

  I walked to her and hugged her, tightening my arms around her middle, taking in one last breath of her before making my escape. A plan was forming in my mind, and I struggled to choke the words out before losing my nerve. I pulled away, unable to fight the tears running down my face.

  “Go back to the farm,” I said, coughing a little as my throat closed with the echo of pain on the spot where Cait’s fingers had pressed. “When this is over, if I make it, I’ll meet you back there. I don’t know how long it will take.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I don’t—”

  “I know this seems crazy,” I said. “But he’s coming for you. The Corentin. He’s already found Cait. It’s only a matter of time before he gets to you.”

  “Now, you listen to me,” she began, her face hardening as she started to understand my intention.

  “No,” I said. “He’s coming for you. I have to go now. I would go alone, but I need Cait to help me find Dad.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, trying to reach out to grab me. “No, you said we were going together. You said—”

  “I know what I said.”

  Grandma stood up from the couch and walked to me, taking one of my hands in both of hers. Her eyes were sad, maybe sadder than Mom’s, but no tears came.

  “I was wrong,” I continued. “If I don’t go now, he’ll take you all, one by one.”

  “I don’t care,” Mom said, her voice cracking. “I don’t care if I die. I don’t care if he takes over my mind or tortures me or cuts me up into little pieces. Aster—”

  “I do,” I said. “This is the only way. You have to trust me.”

  I walked back to Cait, wrapped the blanket she had slept beneath around her small, shaking body, and picked her up.

  “Meet me at the farm,” I repeated.

  I moved to hug her, her eyes wide and staring as she struggled to comprehend what was about to happen. But I stopped short when I saw the one thing that could only confirm my worst fear. And the last thing I had ever wanted to see in my life.

  Black wisps of smoke danced, almost playfully, in the corners of my mother’s eyes.

  I gulped, staring around the room, suddenly worried that any moment now every single person here would be within the Corentin’s command. But every other set of eyes was clear. And when I turned back to her again, hers were, too.

  Had I imagined it? Was my paranoia making me see things?

  “I love you,” I said, backing away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

  I headed for the door.

  “Aster, wait!” Mom screamed. As the door slammed shut behind me, I could hear the commotion from behind it. She was trying to come after me. Grandma was holding her back.

  I walked twenty feet away from the cabin through the thick blanket of snow, the bitter cold air stinging the skin on my cheeks as I came, exposed, into the morning. Cait was crying again, and her little voice making sad, hiccuping sounds as we walked away. I dug out the link from my pocket and stopped, staring down at it.

  Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it wouldn’t have even gotten all of us far enough if I had had the courage to use it for our entire party.

  Just to check, just to be sure, I leaned back, forced Cait to lock her gaze with mine. Blue irises stared back.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked. Then, when she didn’t respond. “Do you see the glow?”

  Her face seemed to clear, and the total misery that had been there a moment before flickered away. She did see it. Deep inside, she knew that what I was doing was right. That I was good.

  She nodded.

  The front door to the cabin burst open, and the sound of Mom struggling to get to me rang out through the morning. Was she trying to attack me? Or did she just want to keep me, her son, from abandoning her yet again?

  But I didn’t listen, tried to shut my ears to the wail of despair coming from her.

  I faced west, lifted the link, gripped Cait tight, and jumped.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Five times. Ten. Twenty. I jumped again and again, Cait’s little body bundled up against mine. I needed to put distance between us and what remained of my family. I shouted the link’s command again and again.

  “Forasha!”

  “Forasha!”

  “Forasha!”

  It must have been hours, but I couldn’t tell. Time blurred past me as I fled. With each landing, my hand automatically raised up into the air again, thrust us anew through the next portal. And the next. We slowly made our way across the mountain range. Snow, trees, lakes, rivers, all blew by us. We saw no other villages, no outposts where people were hiding out, making a go of life, alone and up high.

  After a while, Cait’s sobbing stopped. It was only w
hen my legs could no longer support our weight, collapsing on dry, hot earth, that I finally fell to the ground, no longer able to sustain our flight.

  Cait rolled away, lay lifeless in a heap against the rocky sand. We had finally left the mountains.

  I was on my back, staring up into a gray sky, the tears long since having dried on my cheeks. The air moved, just barely, in and out of my lungs. The tightness of loss still hung heavy within every cell of my body.

  Somewhere up there, beyond the blue-gray skies of Earth, across vast oceans of stars, the Corentin stared back, searching. I knew it. Could feel it. Could he see me now? Had we moved fast enough to lose him?

  Finally, a whimpering sound came from the heavy blanket I had wrapped around Cait, and she emerged from the ball, her face bright red and miserable. She stared around the landscape, and whatever hope had remained in her eyes was washed away in an instant.

  “Where are we?” came her tiny voice.

  Wind whipped through her hair and over my skin. I blinked the brightness of the sunlight away, came back to myself.

  I sat up and looked around. Behind us, the west side of the Rocky Mountains loomed, enormous and green. Before us, nothing but flat, barren earth. And in the distance, somewhere far away and out of sight, another set of mountains rose from the desert floor. Our destination.

  I turned back to take in the range we had just tumbled out of. There, the last of Earth’s treasures stood, still clinging to life miles up into the sky. There, somewhere within the endless folds of rock, was my mother. Left behind. Again.