Evenlight

by Krista Walsh

  Two weeks passed achingly slowly, Jeff wanting nothing more than to fly to the Keep to find out if his friend was alive, but by the end of that time, they had prepared their few meagre possessions, dried the rabbit meat for meals along the way, and set out in the snow.

  The weather treated them fairly as they walked, the skies staying clear during the day, with the odd squall in the evening. The road was buried, but from the number of times Jeff had travelled this route—and Phil’s better sense of direction, despite having visited the Keep only once or twice in this lifetime—they were able to travel without getting lost.

  At least, Jeff hoped that was the case.

  Once in a while, they had luck finding shelter for the night, usually a cottage or hut that had been caught in the vortex at one time or another without being torn apart. Strangely, they didn’t all match the Andvellian style of architecture. One cabin they came across, Jeff was sure came from his own world, based on the signs of indoor plumbing and electricity. Not all the homes were in great condition, but it kept the wind off their backs as they slept and made dinner.

  Sometimes they found traces that other people had made use of the shelters before them, which gave hope that there were more than the three of them in the world. But if other people were about, their paths never crossed.

  On the third day, Jeff began to see signs of land he remembered, only they were in the shimmery Otherworld they couldn’t touch. Although he trusted Phil’s word, he’d had to try it for himself. Phil had been right—Jeff’s hand had passed right through the railing where he’d tied off the barrier spell. But now he was seeing villages and farmsteads that he knew he’d passed on the way to the mountains.

  “We’re getting close,” he said, to raise their spirits in the face of another darkening day. “If not tomorrow then definitely the day after that.”

  Joly grunted, and Phil nodded serenely, as if he wouldn’t be bothered if they reached the Keep tonight or another week from now.

  Jeff was anxious to arrive. He had no hopes of finding the entire Keep on his side of the rift—in fact, he very determinedly told himself it would be a horrible thing if he did—but he longed to be among the familiar. He knew at least a few large trees had been caught, so maybe down the road they could look at building their own shelters. Start farming in the summer. A small village of their own. If it was the best he could plan for, then he would damned well make the most of it.

  He also hoped that reaching some sort of final destination, especially one he knew, would give him an idea of how to get home.

  Of course it was his luck that within minutes of being reunited with Cassie, the universe should separate them again. Fuck the universe. He hadn’t even had a chance to tell her all the things he’d wanted to say, or been able to ask her how she was doing or what she’d been through. So many things he’d wanted to do, like kiss her until they both ran out of air, somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted. He had wanted to show her the Fountain, the secret little paradise beside the Keep where wild flowers grew and the water was bath-warm.

  He wanted to make sure Jasmine was all right, and find out how Brady fared after spending so long with Talfyr dominating his mind. He wanted to know if Jayden and Ariana worked things out. He wanted to keep an eye on Venn, make sure she stayed out of trouble.

  With his imagination back in full force, he could imagine all his characters’ stories, give the happiest endings to all of the people he loved. But it wouldn’t be the same as knowing.

  Between his still-healing thigh and his aching side, his physical pain acted as sweet relief from the pain in his heart, so he focused on it with all the vigour his exhausted emotions could muster.

  He continued to do so for another day and a half, until the gates of the Keep—his home, as he had begun to see it—came into view. At first glance, Jeff wondered if he’d made the wrong decision after all. From the road, the entire village around the Keep, as well as the stone fortress itself, appeared in that mirage-like state, nothing they could make a home out of or connect with. But the closer they got, the more he saw patches scattered throughout the area that hadn’t survived the pull of the rift. Sections of the gate itself were solid, as was the tree that had been sucked up right outside.

  Jeff’s skin tingled as they passed through the shimmering gate, what would have been solid matter on the other side, and into the courtyard. Here, a bit more damage had been done. A few cottages, a shop, part of the militia’s training yard, part of the stable were all on this side of the veil.

  “It’s a start,” said Phil. “At least we know we can set up something more permanent for the winter. Once the good weather comes, if seasons change in this place, we can head back out and see if we can find anyone else.”

  Joly grunted his assent.

  Jeff wanted to run off on his own and scour the Keep, looking for anyone else who might still be alive—Swish—but a growing sense of fear held him back. He’d had his hopes dashed so many times in the last few weeks that he didn’t want to face it again just yet. If anyone was out there, they could wait a few more hours. And if no one was out there, at least he could hold onto some sort of wish for the night.

  Phil pointed to a cottage Jeff knew to be Maggie’s. “This cottage over here looks in decent shape. At least it’s facing the right way up.”

  Jeff hoped her kids and Conrad had been out of the place when it went.

  They headed towards it, climbed the steps to the porch where Jeff had been introduced first to the blue binding spell, and second to the full brood of the Stanwell family.

  They stepped inside to find the furniture thrown about the room, the bookcases toppled over, dishes smashed on the floor.

  “Hello?” Phil called out.

  When no answer came, Jeff heaved a sigh of relief. Holding onto the no news was good news philosophy, he chose to believe they’d made it out all right.

  The three split up to inspect the state of their new home, took note of the tears in the thatch roof and one broken bedstead, and reconvened in the wreck of a living room.

  “At least we all get our own bedrooms,” said Phil. Jeff had accepted that Phil was a man who liked to see the silver lining in every situation. The quality would be a great boon in the time to come, Jeff was sure of it, but he was also sure he wouldn’t be able to maintain an equal level of optimism.

  Outside, the sky that had started to cloud over before they reached the gate let loose a fury of snow and wind. The shutters clattered against the window frames, and one silver lining Jeff did see was that Conrad’s tools were still in good shape and easy to find, scattered as they were about the floor. He, Phil, and Joly spent the next hour nailing shut every window to silence the rattle and keep out the worst of the draft, and built up a fire in every grate of the house.

  As Jeff climbed into bed that night and faded into a comfortable sleep, he thanked Maggie for keeping her home in such good shape. As if he needed another reason to be grateful for everything she had done.

  ***

  Jeff woke first the next morning. He heard Joly’s house-rattling snores from the room next to him, and peaceful silence from Phil.

  He built up the fire, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and then threw on his coat and went out into the snow.

  After the storm, the snow almost reached Jeff’s knees.

  He pulled the collar up on his coat and trudged across the courtyard. Only one shop had moved to this dimension, he was happy to see, so at least the Keep wouldn’t need too much rebuilding.

  In passing, he wondered what had happened with the dragons, if they had gone back to sleep once Maggie and the others closed the vortex. He wondered if they had in fact been able to close the vortex.

  From there, more and more questions passed through his head, until even the echoes of memories in this once-crowded marketplace became overwhelming.

  Fleeing the village centre, Jeff headed for the gap in the wall, although his rational mind knew he could have passed through the w
all at any point, and started down the snowy path towards the secret entrance in the trees.

  With most of the leaves gone and branches bare, the doorway was easier to spot, but it still took Jeff a while to find the twisted branch that served as a handle. His hand passed through the door, and he stepped the rest of the way into the secret hollow.

  As he stepped into the Fountain, his mouth dropped.

  He had expected more shimmeriness from the other side, but beyond the secret doorway, everything was in full colour. Even in the dead of winter, there were plants growing through the snow, adding splashes to the monochrome of the season.

  “What the hell?” he murmured, spinning in a circle.

  To make sure he wasn’t crazy—at least about this—he passed back out onto the path. Nothing solid here. The wall shimmered dully, and in the distance, the Keep looked more like a shape in the mist than a real building. But through that wall of trees, the Fountain was real. Not upended like the trees that were torn out from their roots—everything just as it always was. Alive and thriving.

  Jeff had written the Fountain into one of his novels to serve a purpose for Maggie, who needed water to complete a spell. He had no idea how magical this oasis was at its core.

  To his surprise, Jeff’s throat grew thick and his eyes prickled with the threat of tears. He cleared his throat, but the sensation wouldn’t go away. To find this space here not only felt like an attachment to everything he’d lost, but also a painful reminder that he had lost it.

  His side ached with his body’s effort to keep his emotions in check, and he had to remind himself to breathe normally. That this, like everything else, was temporary. He would adjust.

  With a slow breath, he passed back out of the Fountain, reassured in the knowledge that he could come back when he needed to, especially to take the bath he so desperately wanted.

  But he didn’t want to be away too long in case the others came to look for him. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to know about this place yet. For now it would be his secret, just as the Fountain was always meant to be.

  After the miracle of finding the Fountain intact, he screwed up his courage to face the one wish that had been on his mind since his decision to come back to the Keep.

  He stepped through the wall into the courtyard, and wandered towards the stable and training yard. His ears strained to pick up the thock of arrows hitting their targets, or the clash of swords, or Brian berating his troops for being useless incompetent thugs if they couldn’t focus on their footwork instead of that serving girl.

  Jeff laughed at the memory, saddened at the silence he heard now.

  His feet stopped of their own accord as he swore the silence was interrupted by a familiar sound. He froze, waiting for it to come again. Nothing. He continued on, but again he thought he heard a noise, like footsteps, maybe? And then a low noise, like someone talking.

  He looked around, and saw nothing but otherworldly buildings, except for the half-stable.

  The sound came again, more distinct this time. Not his imagination. Real.

  Jeff’s heart lifted, but he forced his hopes down. It would break his heart if he were wrong.

  Slowly, he stepped around into the stable.

  “Hello?” he called.

  A happy whicker came to him in reply.

  Jeff’s chest filled with joy as he stepped further into the remains of the building. Another whinny and a shape he knew and loved came out of the hay stall, bounding towards him, rearing up on his back legs in a dance that expressed just as much happiness as Jeff felt.

  “Swish!” he cried out, throwing his arms around the gelding’s neck once the horse stopped prancing.

  Tears fell freely down Jeff’s cheeks, and he made no effort to check them.

  “You’re alive! And here! And all right! I swear I never thought I’d see you again, buddy. If you aren’t the best surprise I’ve ever had in my life, I don’t know what is.”

  Swish leaned into Jeff so he lost his balance and had to grab onto the bay’s mane to stay straight, laughing with every stumble and catch.

  Behind Swish, another horse stood in the stall, watching them with curiosity but not leaving the comfort of her self-designated home. Jeff recognised Ariana’s mare that had been lost with Swish. Keeping one hand on Swish’s neck, he walked over and gave her a welcoming pat on the neck. She shook out her head and nosed his shoulder in greeting. Two more horses whinnied behind him, the shaggy beasts that pulled the sled.

  “I’m glad to see you guys managed to find a way to keep going,” he said. “Gives me hope that we will as well. And at least we’ll all have a bit of extra company now.”

  He poked his head into the hay stall, which was almost empty from the horse’s free access to it over for the last week.

  “Not sure what we’ll do for you guys in terms of food, but we’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”

  He thought of the trees in the Fountain. Surely there would be something in there the horses could eat. Phil would probably have a better idea.

  At the thought of Phil, he knew he had to head back and share the news that, if they did have to move on from here once the good weather came, at least they wouldn’t have to walk.

  “I’ll be back. Or, you know, you can come and visit us,” he told the horses, giddy with excitement and joy. He gave Swish one last pat, reluctant to remove his hand from the horseflesh in case this reunion, like the one with Cassie, was only fleeting.

  Phil was standing on the porch when Jeff got back, looking worried.

  “I’m here!” Jeff called out when he saw him. “Sorry I disappeared. But I have fantastic news! You’ll never guess what I found. Phil?”

  Phil’s look of concern didn’t fade when he saw Jeff, which made him wonder if he hadn’t been the cause of the worry in the first place.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “I’m glad you’re back, but as to whether everything is all right, I’m not sure.”

  Jeff frowned, coming up the steps. “What’s going on?”

  “I hear voices.”

  Jeff forced himself to give a calm smile. Wonderful. To be trapped in another dimension with someone who’s losing his mind on a literal level.

  On the other hand, piped up the second voice, it’ll be more like there are four of you instead of three. Could break up the monotony.

  “It’s a woman’s voice, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. And I can’t hear it at all out here, just inside.”

  Jeff’s frown returned. That didn’t sound as much like madness. He didn’t think voices stayed in certain spots, like hauntings.

  Maybe the cottage is haunted?

  He stepped inside and closed his eyes. Only silence echoed back at him.

  “I don’t hear it now,” said Phil, confirming Jeff’s perception. “Joly couldn’t hear anything this morning either, but he was patching a hole in the roof over his room, so it’s possible he was making too much noise. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Phil’s smile returned. “So, what’s the good news you have to tell me?”

  Jeff grinned, stepping back into the happiness of the moment when he’d discovered Swish alive and well. “I found horses. Well, my horse, and Ariana’s horse. They were sucked into the vortex a week ago, but they’re here! So we’ll be able to ride in the spring when we go see who else is stuck here. Hurray!”

  He did a happy dance in the living room, determined to be like Phil just for today and look on the positive side of their situation.

  Phil chuckled, but the crease in his brow returned. “There. Do you hear that?”

  Jeff stopped his fancy footwork and cocked his head to listen. Sure enough, this time he heard a woman murmuring. A second female voice came in and the tones rose and fell as if in argument. A third voice, male, interrupted the second with a low, calmer tenor. Then it faded again.

  “If you’re going insane, I guess I am as well,” said Jeff. “I heard it.”

  The scene struck
him as familiar. Another time, another life, lying in bed with his pillow over his head to drown out MacGregor’s television in the next apartment. The same irritating hush of voices that he couldn’t drown out, but couldn’t understand, either. Grating.

  But it wasn’t the television, was it?

  The voices hadn’t come from the other apartment as he’d thought, but another world. This world. Or rather, the other dimension of this world.

  Just like that morning when hope fluttered against Jeff’s ribcage outside the stables, a feeling of excitement began to brew. He pushed it down, refusing to consider it as a possibility, but he couldn’t ignore it.

  “I’m not saying this is the case,” he said, as much to keep his own expectations in check as not to get Phil’s hopes up, “but it’s very possible the veil is thinner here for one reason or another. Maybe because this cottage is so filled with magic? It was the Feldall enchantress’s home.”

  “So what does that mean?” asked Phil.

  The door opened and Joly came in, his shoulders and short hair covered in snow as if he’d fallen into a snowbank.

  “Weather’s started back up,” he said. “Good thing the roof is fixed. Who died?”

  Jeff tried to clear the seriousness from his face. “I don’t think anyone, although we’re trying to figure that out. Either this cottage is haunted with the ghosts of another dimension, or the actual other dimension is finding a way through the barrier. The facts remain to be seen.”

  Phil stared at him intently, and Jeff remembered there was a question lingering between them. “Basically it means we’re hearing what’s happening on the other side. Maggie could be nearby, or we’re picking up her energy in the cottage because her attachment to it is so strong. It’s possible, and I don’t want to go into specifics about probability, that she could find a way to—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, the voice came back again, this time in a pattern he now knew well. He started to laugh, and the happy dance came back.

  “Get your stuff, men, we’re going home!”