Silence: Part Two of Echoes & Silence

by Am Hudson

  “The what?”

  “It was a tree, David,” I explained, my eyes wide with wonder, “the power beneath the Stone—all this time. It was trapped in there, locked away until a being with a pure heart, and with light from pure blood, could set it free.”

  “Set it free,” he whispered the words to himself, casting his eyes downward in thought. “You used to say that in your sleep—a lot.”

  “Did I?”

  He nodded. “So… you set it free? There’s a tree there now where there once was a rock?”

  “Mm-hm.” I nodded, smiling gleefully. “And the fruit gives immortal life. Just imagine,” I said, dreamy-eyed. “We could make you human again and you could eat the fruit, and then you’d be immortal, but without all the killing.”

  “What?” he scoffed. “But I like killing.”

  I laughed. Then stopped suddenly. “I bet Safia would love to get her hands on that fruit.”

  “Safia aside.” He stepped around so he stood in front of me, cupping one hand over mine against the baby’s head. “How do we save our daughter?”

  I cradled her upright against my chest, looking over at the jewellery box on Arietta’s dresser. “We give her Eve’s soul.”

  As I looked back at David, his eyes moved to the jewellery box, too. “The crux—we never buried it. Are you saying…”

  “Here.” I rolled the baby out from my shoulder and handed her carefully to David. He tucked her into him as though he’d cradled hundreds of babies over his century of life, and followed me to the dresser, leaving his previous question unfinished.

  “Do you even know where it is?” he asked, standing behind me as I sat down on the stool. “I thought it faded, and only the leaf remained.”

  “I have a funny feeling that…” I reached into the box, smiling as I found what I was looking for. I held up a gold earning with a small diamond at the top and, at the bottom, dangling, was a tiny gold leaf—identical to the one we planned to bury. “Eve’s crux didn’t fade at all.”

  “So she’s still here—on earth?”

  “No, she’s lost in the Fog of Purgatory,” I said casually, my voice light and high, “but I can bring her back—replenish the magic in her crux.”

  “How?”

  “Juice from the Fruit of Life.” I laid the earrings back inside the jewellery box and closed the lid. “Not only can it restore life, heal wounds and make Man immortal, it can also replenish magic when it dies. Nature’s Magic, that is.”

  When I felt David move away from me, I looked in the reflection of the dresser mirror and watched him sit on the blanket box, his eyes glazed, fixed on the floor. The baby lay motionless on his shoulder, his golden skin darker against the stark white of the blue-trimmed blanket.

  “How long will it take?”

  I turned at the waist to face him. “How long will what take?”

  “The whole process.” He looked up at me. “From the moment we take her out there in the freezing cold, to the moment she takes her first real breath.”

  I shrugged. “I have to find Eve, and that may take a while. But once I do, and once I create the pathway for her to walk from the Spirit Realm to this, it should only be seconds. Why?”

  “I just want this day over.”

  “It won’t be over, even then.” I turned back to the dresser and started lifting random objects, searching under them. “We still need to hunt down Walter, find Jason and rescue him, and I need to call Mike, and Vicki—tell her she has a granddaughter.”

  “We also have an announcement to make—to our people,” he said with a smile. “They might like to know they have a new princess.”

  “Yes, and I want to send Falcon down to ‘clean out’ the barracks—fire all those knights that were faithful to Walter.”

  “Fire them?” His voice pitched higher. “Ara, no one is leaving. Every single one of those betraying bottom feeders will be tried and executed in front a firing squad. We have a message to convey—a strong one.”

  He was right. I knew he was right. But surely, in this day and age, that was a bit barbaric. “We’ll talk about it later,” I said absently, spotting a tiny gold ball among a tray of trinkets and coins. It was no bigger than my pinkie nail, with a tiny stalk coming out the top—giving it away as the apple it clearly was, not the small ball-charm it appeared to be.

  I dug in to the coins and plucked it out, studying it in the pale light. The leaf was still there beside the stalk. It hadn’t fallen off at all. The entire crux was still intact, aside from the magic. But, magic or not, this crux was made with a drop of Eve’s blood—it was, and always would be, connected to her. Magic, we could restore. Blood, we could not.

  I curled my fingers around it and closed my eyes, feeling the first wave of relief since I found out I was pregnant with the soulless child. In just a few hours, maybe even minutes, my child would be complete. My life would be complete. This nightmare would be over.

  “Look.” I held the crux up by its stalk, showing it to David.

  “Is that…” His wide eyes drew him up off the bed, and he walked over to look at it closer, bending down slightly, tucking both hands securely around the little bundle. “That’s the crux?”

  “Mm-hm.” I smiled, angling it this way and that so we could both study it.

  “It’s so small.”

  My eyes went on to the baby. “Just like its new bearer.”

  He laughed. Just one little breathy laugh. But it was so nice to see him smile that it made my eyes water.

  “Grab another baby blanket from that packing box Em brought up, please,” I said to stop myself from crying. “It’s time to go.”

  ***

  The black eyes of an empty vessel fixed on me as I laid the baby beneath the Tree of Life, snuggled warmly in the softness of my red cloak. As I wrapped her arms and legs snugly in the velvet folds, thinking about when Jason first gave me this cloak, a part of my heart ached for him—wondering where he was, if he was okay.

  As soon as Eve’s soul was safely across to this Realm, Jason would be our first priority. Then Walter.

  I stood up, leaving the baby under the tree, and moved to stand beside David, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the white, tangled branches of the tree. To any man passing by, this strange white apple tree would look simple, maybe a little odd sitting here among evergreens and bare deciduous trees. But to a King, sworn in on the very Stone that protected this tree, it glowed—the Fruit giving off light, energy, magic. He could not only see it, he could feel it—feel it coursing through his veins in the same way as the magic which allowed him to be King.

  But beyond the tree, marking a threshold I’d crossed many times without actually seeing it, was the high elegant arch of the gateway to the Other Side. Like an optical illusion, in one blink it looked simply like six thin, bare trees reaching high into the canopy. In the other blink, I could see elegant twists and swirls between the trunks, joining them like the iron details on a gate, and at the centre, an opening—the arch tapering out at the top where the branches circled around a finely detailed image of a tree, its roots tangling deep within the base of the circle.

  “Do you see it?” I asked David.

  I felt his eyes fall on my face—saw the look of confusion cross his through my peripheral vision. “See the tree? Of course—”

  “No.” I pointed to the gateway. “That.”

  Through the arch I could see the horizon of another world—the snow-capped mountains and the gentle pink glow of blossoms, catching the light and warming it. But it became clear, as David took a step toward it, angling his head this way and that, that he couldn’t see it.

  “Should I be worried?” he asked, snapping me out of my stare, his hand coming down firmly on my shoulder. “Maybe you need some sleep, you—”

  “I’m fine,” I said gently, unfolding my hand to reveal the tiny gold crux. “We need to get started.”

  “Just tell me what to do?”

  “Ask the Tree for its Fruit.” I poin
ted to it. “And we need a drop of the baby’s blood.”

  David nodded, more to himself than to me, and his long legs took two strides to bring him under the lowest branch of the Tree. He reached up to a pale yellow apple, placing his other hand on the Tree, and whispered something into its trunk. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look up in panic, didn’t even move as the Tree, like a person responding to a command, arched its branch down to his hand and laid the apple there, releasing it as David closed his fingers around it.

  He didn’t thank the Tree, didn’t even seem to acknowledge its gift. He just knelt down over the baby, slipping his index finger into her tiny fist.

  “I need her blood now,” I reminded him, kneeling down in the warm dirt beside them.

  David’s eyes stayed fixed on our daughter’s face, his finger within her grasp, and I folded one side of the cloak back and drew her foot out. It was no bigger than my pinkie, the skin smooth and pink, with little creases running across the back of the heel.

  I laid the crux on the cloak under her foot and pressed the tip of my nail to her heel, squeezing it as a dark red drop of blood seeped out. She didn’t cry or fuss, didn’t even seem to know anything had happened to her. I stared at her for a moment, amazed, my eyes falling back on the apple as the drop landed against it. I’d half expected the gold to absorb the blood, but without the magic inside the crux, I guess it was just a regular old piece of gold—slightly tarnished now.

  “Pass me the Fruit,” I said in a businesslike tone, holding my hand out.

  David passed it to me without taking his eyes off the baby, and I smiled as I realised that her eyes were fixed on his as well. Even though she had no soul, I imagined she saw the same darkness in his impure soul that was within her right now. Or perhaps it was her heart recognising her father.

  I moved my eyes away from them and focused on my work. The Fruit split as I drew a line down it with my thumbnail, and the sparkling white juice dripped from within the flesh, falling onto the crux and blending with the baby’s blood on the surface. As the magic of Life seeped in, binding the baby’s blood and repairing the ancient spell, a gentle glow radiated off the golden apple. Even David looked up then, his gaze going from my face, alight with the white glow, to the golden crux.

  I could feel a pulse within it now, feel the magic filling it up, feel the hollow void—the emptiness of the missing soul.

  “I need to find Eve,” I whispered, holding the crux up to look at it. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Go.” David reached out and covered my hand and the crux. “I’ll stay here with the baby.”

  “As will I,” Lilith said, manifesting out of thin air. Her eyes filled up with a smile then, sparkling with tears in the soft glow of morning, as she angled her head and laid eyes on her great great grandchild for the first time. “You have nothing to fear, Amara. All this will be over soon.”

  I brushed my knees off as I stood up, leaving the crux in David’s hand. He covered the baby’s foot over again, giving it a gentle squeeze on the heel, as if to rub the sore spot better.

  “I wanted to wait for you,” I said to Lilith, “before I began, but—”

  “I’m sorry.” She appeared beside me, taking both my hands. “I was summoned in another place.”

  I nodded, looking down at her long, thin hands around mine.

  “You’re afraid,” she noted. “You’re not sure how to find Eve.”

  I nodded again.

  “Use your Light.” She drew one hand from mine and tucked my long hair back over my shoulder. “You already have the magic, Amara. Just search inside your heart.”

  “Ara,” David said. I angled my head back to look down at him. “If there’s one thing that has always bothered me about you, it’s your self-doubt. Let it go.” He smiled softly, making his eyes wider above that grin. “You are the most amazingly strong person I know, and nothing in this world can stop you achieving what you want. Except self-doubt.”

  “So go,” Lilith added, bringing my attention back to her with a squeeze of my hands. “Go forth through the gateway to the Spirit Realm, and bring back a soul for your daughter.”

  “And hurry,” David added. “It’s been a long night and we could both use some sleep and a solid breakfast.”

  I laughed, wiping my nose after. “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Come.” Lilith turned, holding my hand like a mother would a child. “I’ll lead you through the gateway.”

  David watched with interest as we walked away, hand in hand. When we reached the high arch, I looked all the way, my eyes following the intricate details of the scrolling branches. The way they twirled around between the trunks, touching the tree’s edge in a repeating pattern, made it look almost like a story were written there along the edge of the doorway—in a language I might never know.

  “It’s a name,” Lilith explained, motioning to the scrolls. “There are four gateways to the Spirit Realm from within the Natural Realm. Each with a name of its own.”

  “What’s this one called?”

  “In the Old Language, Elyse—which means, roughly translated to the modern tongue—place where souls live, or City of Life.”

  “City?”

  “You’ll see,” she said, squeezing my hand, and moved her bare foot over the threshold, her pink dress parting slightly to reveal her ankle.

  I glanced back at David as my shoulders passed under the archway, but if he saw me smile, he didn’t smile back.

  As the last of me passed through Elyse, I felt a change. My body became lighter. Air was not air, breath was not breath, and rushing up and down my limbs, swirling within my midsection, was the strangest tickly feeling. Like happiness or extreme joy.

  “What is that?”

  “Life,” Lilith said simply, looking down to exactly where I could feel it circling.

  As I looked too, I frowned. “What am I wearing?”

  Lilith laughed softly. “In the Spirit Realm, we are but projections. What we wear, how we appear, how we sound, is all a reflection of how we see ourselves.”

  “So… I see myself as a Greek Goddess?” I asked, one brow arched.

  “I imagine it is the only image your mind could call on for such a being.”

  “But I can change it?” I asked. “I don’t have to wear a tunic every time I come here.”

  “You can project yourself in any way you wish.” She motioned down her body, and as her hands swept past the ghostly pink dress she always wore, it changed—sparkled like light on water, growing in length until it covered the grass and then lifted itself away, as if a ghostly wind were fluttering it gently.

  I closed my eyes and imagined myself in a pale blue dress, a long, transparent cape falling from the shoulders and into a long train at the back. My hair sprung up into soft, round curls over my shoulder blades, and a silver thread wrapped my head three times, keeping my hair off my face.

  When I opened my eyes, Lilith smiled approvingly. “Beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I felt beautiful. I felt godly. I felt amazing. “How can you ever leave this place?”

  So far, the City of Life was just feeling. I’d walked this realm before, seen the valley, knelt in the River of Life, but never really looked. Never really seen. When I finally lifted my eyes to the wide field ahead, I noticed a long, cobblestone path, lined with white blossoms, and beyond, a gentle glow—reaching high into the perfect, endless blue sky. If I looked closer I could see the shape of buildings within that glow, like a flicker of light you weren’t sure you’d seen, and it gave me a sense of coming home.

  “What’s in the city?”

  “Souls that have lived a good life—the ones not ready to cross back to the Natural Realm.”

  “Can I go there?”

  “Not today.” She stepped back toward the gate. “I will take you there one day.”

  My wide, childlike gaze fell on the city again.

  “You must walk now.” Lilith tilted my chin to follow her aim.
“Walk the river bank as far as the eye can see, and when the fog thickens and the trees die, you will hear them.”

  “Hear who?”

  “The Lost—the Immortal Souls crying for their mates.”

  Thin black trunks dotted the riverbank on both sides, shrouded mostly by hanging pink blossoms. They seemed to glow, catching the light like crystals hanging in the sun, rainbows and silver stars dancing in the air around them. I could see the cool, clear flow of the river, rushing in places, trickling in others, flowing in one direction—toward a very distant shadowy place.

  When I looked back to Lilith, she was gone, leaving nothing but a whispery breeze behind her as she crossed back to the Natural Realm.

  The world on the other side of the gateway mirrored this one, like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking at a reflection of yourself. I could see the tree, David, the baby, but they were all upside-down—the roots of the Tree of Life reaching upward to this world, or maybe down, drinking from the water they lived in on this side.

  Lilith stood there behind David, looking over his shoulder at the soulless babe, and a new determination grew inside me, dampening out the tickly feeling. A part of me wanted to stand here forever, but the heart I left behind still wanted to fight for the life I hadn’t yet lost.

  With my chin held high, my pale blue dress billowing behind me, I walked on toward the River of Life, feeling hope pass over my skin and through my body like magic.

  ***

  The Spirit Realm went well beyond the borders of Loslilian Island. I walked the length of the sparkling river, its waters calm and almost crystal clear, coloured only by the blue sky and the canopy of pink blossoms, but as the trees thinned out and the fullness of life dulled down for wiry grey branches and thick fog, I didn’t need my sixth sense to tell me I’d entered my Realm—Purgatory.

  Something felt amiss here. I couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in my gut, like I’d forgotten something. All around me, hopeless whimpers echoed off the thick fog, but like frogs croaking late in the night, the cries stopped whenever I neared them.

  “Hello,” I called, circling on the spot, my breath touching the fog right in front of my face. “I’m here to help you. Just show me where you are.”