There were waterways, like every iconic picture of Venice, Italy, spreading between the buildings. Stone pathways crept here and there, but it seemed like most everyone traveled by water. The people stopped and waved at us as we came by, laughing and acting the happiest I’d ever seen a group behave.
The spirits mixed freely with the people. Some of them seemed to be part of families, laughing and helping with the chores, while others appeared to just be there, studying everyone in silence. Their lack of an aura made them stand out like sore thumbs, but their presence didn’t seem to bother anyone in the slightest.
The shamans themselves were just as colorful as Zaka, their language sounding very choppy and guttural. Whenever they spoke to us, though, it was in English, with a perfect knowledge of the language.
Slowly, we drifted to one of the stone pathways, many different trails leading away from the main hub by the water, their final destinations a mystery.
“I’m afraid this is where my time with you ends.” Zaka smiled, beckoning for us to leave the boats. “Choose the path that speaks to you the most. It will lead you where you need to go. Tonight, when the moon is high in the sky, we will gather at the head of the Fountain and the spirits will speak with you. Until then, enjoy our city and the treasures she offers you.”
Ambling from the boats, our group stood there, somewhat awkward, watching as she guided the vessels away. In a matter of seconds, we were left alone, not a soul appearing to guide us further.
“Well,” Captain MacDonald finally said, sounding somewhat strained. “Ye heard the woman. Meet at the fountain tonight.” He paused, frowning slightly, and looked around. It seemed that everyone noticed Isobel was nowhere to be seen. After a beat, the captain nodded to himself, shouldered his hammer, and started along one path, leaving the rest of us behind.
With some muttering and whispers, the crew slowly dispersed, choosing which trail they wanted to follow, disappearing into the depths of the city.
“Any of these call to you?” Mark asked, watching as everyone left our foursome alone.
“Not really,” I admitted. “I feel like I’m going to get lost if I go anywhere.”
“I think that may be the point,” Tristan replied, smiling slightly.
Taking my hand in his, he kissed it and then tucked it under his arm, picking a path and leading me away. Mark and Abella followed slowly behind, the silence cocooning us.
Tall, white buildings stretched every which way, the walkway twisted and narrow. It seemed that everything was empty, no signs of life peeking in the windows or doors, no close sounds reaching our ears. As the sun continued to set, throwing long shadows over everything, I wondered what spirits wanted to speak with us, what story they would share. I’d seen movies with shamans in them before, where they met with the spirit of a bear or another majestic creature and learned valuable life lessons. Would this be something like that?
Eventually, we found ourselves in the midst of an open air market, the sounds and smells of the city encasing me with warmth and excitement. The vendors sold items like shark teeth, precious gems, and animal totems, everything laid out to be examined. Tree branches wove together overhead and a few people had hung wind chimes from them, as well as necklaces and pieces of fabric. It felt like a swap meet almost, with smiling faces and eager buyers all around. After a while, though, the overwhelming amount of it started to give me a headache and Tristan led me away, leaving Mark and Abella with a man who dealt in rare coins—as if things from the legendary city weren’t already rare enough.
“It looks like there’s a garden maze over there,” Tristan said, motioning outside the marketplace. “It should be quieter with the hedges. Do ye want to have a look?”
Nodding, I smiled, tightening my hold on his arm. Glancing at the sky, I frowned. “The sun takes a long time to set here.”
Laughing, he stared up as well. “Aye, I’d thought that myself. The days must be longer here. I don’t think it’s the same as where we come from.”
We entered the hedge maze, pretty flowers sticking out of the bushes everywhere and lightning bugs hanging in the air once more.
“How much time do you think has passed in our realm?”
He shrugged, brushing the petals of one of the flowers as we passed. “I can’t rightly say. I suppose we’ll find out when we return, aye?”
“I guess.”
We turned right, taking a different branch of the maze, and I silently hoped he would remember the way out. An image of shamans descending on the maze to rescue us entered my mind and I giggled, both amused and horrified by the thought.
“What is it?” Tristan asked, grinning.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking—”
We’d reached a dead end. The hedge rounded in front of us, stone benches resting along the foliage. In the center, was a statue of a woman holding a jug, which rested on her shoulder, water pouring from the container into the pool beneath her. I could see someone sitting on the benches on the other side, a couple with their heads bent together. Turning to watch as we entered the clearing, they remained silent, smiling lightly.
My apology for intruding on them stuck in my throat as I stared. It felt like my heart was going to explode from my chest, if it would only start beating again. Tears filled my eyes, my lip trembling, my body anxiously trying to remember how to breathe. For an instant, I thought my legs would give way beneath me and I grabbed onto Tristan with both hands, my nails digging into his skin. When I finally was able to speak, it was barely a whisper, tears rolling down my face.
“Mom? Dad?”
They looked just like I remembered them, even though it had been years since both of their deaths. The only thing they lacked were glittering auras, the absence of the cloud marking them as spirits. Mom’s dark hair curled over her shoulders, her happy eyes filled with moisture as she stared at me, her familiar and kind smile breaking my heart. She was wearing her favorite red dress, the one that tied in the back and had matching lace on the shoulders. Most of all, she didn’t seem sick, like she had the last time I’d seen her. She was healthy and glowing, no sign of the disease that had killed her.
Dad, on the other hand, had hair that was as crazy as it always had been, the blonde strands practically standing off the top of his head. He wore his work jeans and t-shirt, his most common outfit when he’d been alive. He was still tan, fit, and smiling, the grin he had always saved only for me covering his features.
Breaking away from Tristan, I ran to them, arms wide and laughter bubbling from me, my tears making it almost impossible to see them. Rising, they hastened to join me, arms also flung wide as tears streamed across their faces. Wrapping me up in a ginormous hug, their bodies pressed lovingly against me. I felt I must be dreaming, or imagining their presence.
“Is it really you? Are you really here?” Sobbing, I clung to them, refusing to let go, fearful that they would disappear if I did.
“It’s us, Sammy,” Dad responded, chuckling as he squeezed me tighter.
“It’s so good to see you, pumpkin.” Mom kissed my forehead, wiping some of the wetness from my face as she pulled away some to observe me better.
“How?” Glancing between the two of them, I couldn’t help the grin on my face. “How are you here? How did you know I would be here?”
“We’re here because you needed us to be,” Dad replied softly. “You called us. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”
“Oh, Sammy.” Mom put her hands on the sides of my face, smiling sadly. “You’ve been through so much. You’re so strong, so much stronger than I ever hoped you would have to be.”
Beaming through my tears, I put one hand on top of hers, the other still holding onto Dad’s arm. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
“We were never far away,” Dad said softly. “You know that, don’t you?”
Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks and I nodded. “I know.”
“You had someone there to help you whenever you needed it.” Mom
peered away from the two of us. “Someone who loves you as much as we do and was willing to hold your hand and walk the path with you.”
Looking over, I saw Tristan, standing awkwardly at the mouth of the passageway, surprise and happiness written on his face.
Grinning at him, I chuckled, wiping away the new tears. “Mom, Dad, this is my husband, Tristan O’Rourke. Tristan, these are my parents.”
“I gathered that,” he replied, chuckling slightly in his shock. “It is an honor to meet both of ye, Michael and Lucy.” He acted as if he didn’t know what to do, keeping his distance as he continued watching us.
“What, no hug for your father-in-law?” Dad asked, breaking the awkward air between them with a teasing tone.
Grinning, Tristan strode over, joining our embrace without question. He kissed Mom on the cheek, flashing me a happy expression, and laughed, his face flushing somewhat. “This is not something I ever thought to experience,” he finally said. “Meeting my wife’s parents, I mean.”
“You were calling us, too,” Mom spoke, stepping away, taking my hand as she spoke to him.
“Well, not us specifically,” Dad added, stepping away as well. “You were both calling the one we’ve been with for the past little while.”
“And who is that?” I asked, confused.
They both smiled, a knowing glance passing between the two of them.
I felt like there was some secret they weren’t sharing. Their faces shone with happiness and excitement, but they said nothing, ignoring my question.
“Hello.”
Turning to the mouth of the pathway, I jumped slightly. There was another spirit there, a young woman wearing a long, white dress. Her dark hair was tied at the nape of her neck, hanging across her shoulder and falling to her midsection. She was a delicate woman, seeming only a few years younger than myself, a dainty grin covering her features. An excitement seemed to surround her, her hands clasped together as she bounced in place a few times. Her green eyes shone brightly with anticipation—green eyes I knew all too well, because they were Tristan’s.
Mouth going dry, I stared at her, noting all the things that stood out to me. She had my nose and Tristan’s lips, as well as his long fingers. Her hair and frame matched my own, but everything else was such a mixture of the two of us that it took my breath away. I knew who she was, without a doubt, but I was too afraid to voice it, on the off chance that I was wrong. I didn’t know how I knew, or what made me so certain, but watching her was making my heart break all over again, as well as filling me with a strange sort of happiness.
For a moment, we simply stared at each other. I was at a loss for words. When someone finally did speak, the sound of it undid me the rest of the way, an onslaught of tears rushing across my cheeks once more.
“Are you . . . Rachel?” Tristan asked hesitantly, his voice catching.
She smiled even wider, nodding. “Hi Dad. Hi Mom.”
Racing toward her, we wrapped her in our arms, crying and laughing at the same time, our daughter locked in our embrace at last. It felt as if I would burst as she hugged me, pulling us both close to her, her voice ringing in our ears. I almost didn’t notice when we all collapsed to the ground, holding each other tightly, together for the first time.
My hands touched her face, her hair, desperation filling me. It seemed like this was all a dream, but no. With each touch, I knew she was real, she was here, and she had grown into everything I could have ever hoped for her to be.
“I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me,” she confessed. “But Grandma and Grandpa said there was no way you wouldn’t. I guess they were right.”
Pulling away, I rested my fingers on her cheek, staring into her eyes with wonder and confusion. “How?” I felt myself asking again. “How are you here, like this?”
“Spirits are allowed to choose how they want to appear,” she explained. “It’s easier for me, like this. I don’t feel like anyone has to take care of me.” She looked past me, to Mom and Dad, and grinned. “But there were a few people who wanted to help take care of me and keep me as part of the family anyway.”
Glancing at my parents, I felt such a swell of love for them, as well as gratitude. It was comforting me to know that my child was in their care, even if it meant they had passed on without me.
Rachel touched my face, and drew my attention to her. “You’ve been so upset because of what happened,” she said, the first sign of sadness crossing her features. “It wasn’t your fault. I knew you needed my help, to hear from me, but I didn’t know how to get to you.”
Staring at Tristan, she took his hand, squeezing it gently. “And you were so distraught that you never got to meet me. You blame yourself for not being there to protect me, but it wasn’t your fault, either.”
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed my hand as well, taking on a somber air as she spoke. “It wouldn’t have mattered if Mom wasn’t kidnapped, or if Dad had been there to protect us. I was never supposed to live. I know that now, as a spirit, and I’ve accepted it. I hope both of you can accept that truth as well, and let yourselves move on.”
Shocked, I remained silent, not knowing what to say.
“How can you know that?” Tristan pressed, holding on to her as if she were going to disappear at any second.
Smiling slightly, she sighed. “It’s difficult to explain, what happens when a spirit goes home, but I know, without a doubt. There was nothing either of you could have done to save me.”
Shaking my head, I felt like her words had only added more weight to the burden for me. “That means it was something wrong with me, with my body,” I said fearfully. Peering at Tristan, I saw he was thinking the same thing I was.
“We might not ever have children,” he said slowly.
The statement hung in the air like a black cloud of death and despair, instantly killing my dreams of having a family.
Nodding, he swallowed, blinking away more tears in his eyes as he took my other hand. “It will be alright, as long as we have each other. That’s all that matters to me. If we’re meant to have no living children, I can survive that so long as ye’re by my side. I don’t need little ones running around, especially if trying to get them is going to hurt ye so badly.”
Rachel shook her head. A slight laugh came from her and she gazed at the sky, sighing. Finally, she met our gazes again. “I have a few sisters who would debate that,” she said quietly, her eyes shining.
Her words didn’t make sense for a second. Staring at her blankly, my brain scrambling to understand what she’d said, I blinked. Then, all at once, her meaning struck me and my mouth popped open, more moisture gathering in my eyes. “Sisters?”
She nodded, her own eyes wet again.
“Ye have sisters?” It was like Tristan had been clubbed over the head. “As in, more than one?”
“As in, your daughters, who are here in the spirit realm, anxiously awaiting their chance to live on Earth, with you.” She grinned lightly, her voice filling with compassion and insistence as she continued. “Don’t give up on them now, not when you’re hurting over me. They love you. They want to come be with you. You will have children. You will have a legacy. And you will be more loved than you ever thought possible.”
He seemed to be at a loss for words, clutching her hand in his as he pressed his lips together, overcome with emotions once more.
She cried as she watched him, practically beaming. “I love you, Daddy,” she said softly. “And I always will.”
Tristan sucked in a pained breath, moisture in his eyes and shook his head. “And I love ye, Rachel Dawn O’Rourke. Always have, Always will. I didn’t need to see ye to know that.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly for a few minutes, his shoulders shaking. Even though his face was hidden from me, I knew he was crying all the tears he’d held back over the months, simultaneously saying hello and goodbye to his daughter. When they finally broke apart, his face was red and he wiped his sleeve across it, ch
uckling slightly.
She turned to me, her face wet but beaming “Mom,” she said, her voice shaky. “I know what you went through because of me and I’m sorry. I want you to know, though, it means the world to me that you did it. I’ve caused you so much pain, but I love you more than anything. Thank you for being my mom, even if it meant you had to suffer for it.”
“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” I answered, and it was the absolute truth. “My life is not mine without your memory in it. I love you, Rachel. Don’t ever forget that.”
Wrapping her arms around me, she hugged me tightly, her chin on my shoulder. “I won’t. I can’t. I remember what it felt like to be alive, inside of you. I could feel your love for me even then. I will carry it with me always.”
“Samantha, honey.” My mom’s voice timidly spoke. “It’s time to go, sweetie. There are others who need to speak with you tonight. Our turn is finished.”
Hugging Rachel tighter, I shook my head. “No. Anyone else can wait. I’m not ready to let go yet.”
Gently disentangling herself from me, Rachel sighed. “You do have to go talk with the others. There is much you must learn, and much you have to prepare for. I’ll always be with you. Both of you. But, I have to leave now.”
“Will we see you again before we leave?” I asked, suddenly desperate.
Shaking her head, she stood. “Not this time. Maybe, someday. But I must leave you with someone else now.”
“Who?” Tristan asked, mirroring my fear of never seeing her again.
“Don’t worry yerself, lad,” a voice said from behind us.
Turning, I saw an old man wearing a suit of armor covered by a tabard of The Knights Templar. He had a scraggly beard and wild eyes, his Irish accent lilting through the clearing. Somehow, he’d managed to enter the clearing and station himself in front of the fountain, grinning at us like a crazy old coot.
Straightening his tabard, he moved toward us, tipping his head toward Mom and Dad as he passed them. He stopped a few feet from us and offered his hand to Tristan. “Yer great-granda is here to answer all yer questions and impart some wisdom on ye.”
Hidden Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book Three) Page 30