She got ready slowly, barely bothering to spruce up her haggard appearance. She brushed her hair without worrying about frizz, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt with the face of a puppy that said “I Woof You!” Cole had given it to her just last Mother’s Day as his way of both expressing his love for his mother and his desire to get a dog. At first she’d thought the shirt to be ridiculous and slightly embarrassing, now she cherished it like she did every precious memory of her child. Without wasting time for breakfast, Julia gathered up her purse and keys, along with a stuffed Saint Bernard and T-Rex that had been Cole’s favorites, and left the house.
As soon as she stepped outside, black clouds that tumbled across the sun met her eyes. The terrifying sight made her pause and wonder how such dark skies could be without thunder and lightning accompanying the threat of impending storms. The thought of the end of the world briefly crossed her mind as she imagined some strange black hole swallowing the earth.
Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, she thought, getting into the car. As she drove to the funeral home she saw several people along the way staring up at the heavens, some grabbing their children and ushering them indoors, others taking pictures. Some were even packing up their belongings—clothes, toys, food, and all—in hopes of escaping whatever weather was about to strike. By the time Julia reached her destination, morning was beginning to look like dusk. A storm that normally would have worried her was now met with merely irritation. It seemed that it wasn’t just her father trying to prevent Cole’s burial. Even nature was now against her.
As ordered, Frank Farber was ready for the funeral when she arrived. The grave had been dug early that morning, and the casket holding the boy’s body was next to it. On either side stood a gravedigger who stared at the ground, saddened by the fact that they had to put such a small coffin in the earth, and even more so by the idea that the child’s ceremony was being rushed by a mother who refused to allow any other family to attend. To them, it was selfish and unforgivable.
“Mrs. Daivya,” Farber greeted, offering a gentle smile. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Julia swallowed hard and tried not to look at the casket. She caught glimpses of it as she approached, despite her attempts. Tears burned as she clutched the stuffed animals to her chest and the wind began to blow, furiously whipping her unwashed hair around her gaunt face. No, she thought, not even nature would stop this day from happening. “Would…would you mind if I took a moment to say good-bye?”
“Of course not.”
Pounding through the woods, fighting the thorny branches that tore their cheeks, arms, and legs apart, Ian and Cole desperately raced to Whisper’s Waters. Now that the Army of the Dead had walked through the Western Sun, their pace had quickened and their screaming moans were louder than ever. Makeshift spears flew their way, but luckily for Ian the soldiers’ muscles were yet to fully develop, which meant their aim was off. Only two hit their mark, and Ian had the bloody shoulder and shin to prove it.
Despite himself, Cole stared over his father’s shoulders and watched as they made their way across the open plains until the trees hid them from his vision. Now, he gripped Ian’s neck and prayed that the army wouldn’t catch them.
“Almost there,” Ian wheezed, tears streaming down his cheeks as the pain burned from his feet to head, which stung as Cole clung to his mucky, blood-matted hair. Dark clots of blood formed a path through the woods, fallen sticks and sharp rocks piercing tender flesh. But he didn’t care. The pain was worth his son’s salvation.
Something was guiding him to the lake, a force within his own self. Perhaps it was because that was the place of his death, perhaps it was Whisper’s and Smoke Speaker’s doing. Either way, he hoped with all his might that he was going in the right direction, and furiously wondered how the Army of the Dead could move so fast now that they were past the Western Sun. His own speed hadn’t quickened, and he hated how everything in the Land of the Dead worked against him.
He had little time left. Cole was weak, and beginning to feel lighter, as though he was being lifted away by a higher calling. And Ian was running out of energy.
If they didn’t get there soon, they would both be lost forever.
Whisper slowly circled the rooftop of the Fire Tower. The vast stone platform offered a panoramic view of the Land of the Dead, with miniature towers for defense at every corner, despite no war ever being fought. The walls were lined with jagged rock so no flying creature would dare to perch, while the ground was coated with sticky black goo that clung to her shoes. In the center of the roof was an altar stained with blood, the place of many sacrificial rites. Whisper had long been intrigued by sacrifices, but the Elder had strictly forbidden such a practice, denouncing it as work of witches and evil spirits.
“Surely it has some purpose,” she murmured, narrowing her eyes as the colors in the Western Sun began to blur together and slow in movement. When the Army of the Dead crossed over completely into the Land of the Living, the Western Sun would stop spinning altogether, forever opening the portal between both worlds. To do so would mean the spirits dwelling in the Land of the Dead had free passage back to the Land of the Living, where they could take revenge on those who murdered them, live a life that was stripped from them, and take whatever they wanted from those whose hearts still beat. The passage meant chaos, fear, and destruction. It meant the beginning to a new reign of kingdom and power.
In her mind, Whisper imagined Ian and Cole’s race to the lake. Were they alive, then they would be close, the Army of the Dead right on their heels. The end of their journey was sure to be a test of Ian’s faith, his determination, and his willpower. It was a long run through fire and forest, carrying a child who was the key to his own salvation. By now, he was likely experiencing the taste of his own blood as it dripped down his face from cuts by thorny branches, and near naked as his clothes were torn to shreds. The thought pleased her, as she was now standing atop her new home freshly washed and dressed. Her face still told a story of fists and fights, but at least it was clean.
Unlike the Raven-Eater, she preferred simple attire, pants similar to her old pair and a short-sleeved shirt made of a thin fabric only found in the Land of the Dead. On her feet was her own pair of old boots, while her wrists and throat were free of decoration. Only her hair, tucked back in a loose braid, was adorned with a single white feather. Despite her lack of show, she looked regal nonetheless, regarding her soon-to-be kingdom with an air of authority.
“Here,” Whisper announced, her accented voice carrying across the Barren Plains. She turned, crossing her toned arms and tilting her chin in the direction of the altar. “An offering to the new Land of the Dead.”
Chapter 44
Julia’s lips moved quickly, but no sound escaped as she silently said her farewell. She’d thought there would be no words for this grief-stricken event, but now they came flooding to her in a downpour of sorrow. She remembered the moment she learned she was pregnant, how happy she and Ian were to be parents. The first time she held Cole in her arms, she knew she was in love. And watching him grow, there was nothing lovelier than that. His first day of kindergarten, and how nervous he’d been to meet his new teacher; his excitement over Santa’s Christmas present of a brand new bicycle, and how eager he’d been to take his first ride down the street; learning how to read with his favorite book about dinosaurs, refusing to put the book down even though he struggled with the big words. Even the less-than-happy moments, such as his fear over swimming lessons and the time he split his chin open after a tumble off the swing set, were special to her.
So she apologized for not being there enough, for not watching him closely enough, for leaving him in the incapable hands of a father who didn’t love him enough. Her baby boy was gone, and she knew deep down that it was all because she was unfit to be a mother.
“I’m sorry, Cole,” she whispered, kneeling at the base of the six-foot-deep hole as the gravediggers began lowering the casket. “I’m so, s
o sorry.”
Father and son burst into the clearing that opened to Whisper’s Waters. Ian could see the lake ahead, so close, and yet still such a run. The Army of the Dead crashed through the trees behind, forcing him to dodge fallen branches as they tumbled to the ground. The closer they got, the more the ground shook, the sky swallowing the red and purple lights and the air turning to stale dust. He prayed that the Land of the Dead was changing because the army was approaching, and not because Julia was burying Cole, thus forever trapping him in eternal darkness and allowing the Raven-Eater to consume the Land of the Living in hate and death.
“Almost there,” he panted, wincing when a loose shard of black bark struck him in the back. “Almost there.”
A pit of fear and desperation dropped in Gentle Heart’s stomach as the Raven-Eater forced her to her knees on the altar of sacrifice. She fought back tears, determined to show a front of bravery despite her terror. Death by the hand of her daughter was something she never would have foreseen. She had witnessed many sacrifices on this altar by her husband and his guards, and never did she think that her time would come as well.
“Why?” she asked Whisper when the young woman took the blade that the Raven-Eater held out. It was the same sword used on so many other sacrificed souls, one that had been put away for some time now since the Raven-Eater began his hunt for a son. And now it would be used to destroy the one Whisper despised most. “How could we come to this moment?”
Whisper turned the sword over in her hands, marveling at the weight, the fine craftsmanship. It had been sharpened recently, she noticed with satisfaction. Deciding to appease her mother, she kneeled down, threateningly twisting the tip of the blade into the stone as she spoke. “Do you know what life is like, Blue Feather, when it is not one you chose for yourself?”
Incredulity filled Gentle Heart’s reply. “Do you think I chose to be here, Kanegv?” she asked, sweeping an arm around to gesture to her surroundings.
“Yes, Blue Feather, you do know. You too know the burdens of a forced existence.” Whisper’s tone told Gentle Heart that her answer had been expected. “And yet you forced a similar life onto your own daughter, one filled with training, conspiring, constant preparation for a fate not chosen by the one who must follow it. One where that fate was chosen instead by an Elder willing to send his granddaughter into death.”
“I did what was best,” Gentle Heart whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek. “I couldn’t let you die here. I wanted you to live a long, happy life in a better place. You would punish me for that?”
Whisper ignored the question. “My purpose, Blue Feather, has always been to destroy the one responsible for a life of captivity. There are no words to change that fate.”
For a moment neither spoke, and the Raven-Eater gleefully took his place just behind Whisper to watch the death of the one who couldn’t produce him a male heir. Finally, Gentle Heart swallowed heavily and nodded. “I understand, Kanegv…and I forgive you.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Whisper snapped, slightly offended. “You do not understand. You could never understand.”
“Enough,” the Raven-Eater cut in, his deep voice sharply cutting into Whisper’s ears. “Your sacrifice awaits our conquest.”
Angered by the interruption, no matter who it was from, Whisper straightened and cocked her head to the side. “Sacrifice,” she repeated quietly, eyeing her mother curiously. “What has been denied to me, is now openly offered.”
“Kanegv…gvgeyui.”
“Love,” Whisper responded to her mother with a malicious grin, “has no purpose here.”
He was just steps away. He could smell the murky water, could see the pale red and purple lights reflecting off the gray ripples. The end to this eerie land was finally near.
“Cole! Cole! I need you to blow out all your breath!” he shouted through wheezing pants as his bloody feet touched cool, refreshing water. “Do as I say, and hold on tight!”
He felt the boy do just that before they plunged into the water.
Ian gripped Cole with one hand and strong plants beneath the water to hold his body down with the other. He quickly released all the air in his lungs, bubbles flowing up to the surface and breaking through in tiny ripples. After just a few seconds, Cole’s body began to jerk, and Ian’s heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
I’m so sorry, Cole, he shouted in his mind, squeezing his eyes shut as his lungs began to fill. He choked violently, sucking in more water. He felt Cole’s tiny fingers release their grip, and his own mind slip into a clouded dizziness.
In those last moments before his heart stopped beating, he saw both worlds in their final moments of existence.
He watched as his wife kissed the stuffed dinosaur given to Cole last Christmas by his grandparents. She held the animal over the grave, hand trembling as she struggled to release it. He watched as Whisper lifted the sword high above her head, twisting it in her hand so the blade faced downwards.
He saw the gravediggers pick up their shovels, casting sad looks at Julia as she burst into tears, clutching her hands together as they began to shake. He saw Gentle Heart close her eyes in acceptance of a sacrifice she could not prevent, a single sad sigh escaping her lips as she lowered her head before her daughter. And he saw the Army of the Dead as they entered Whisper’s Waters, ready to take over the Land of the Dead and complete the Raven-Eater’s bidding. They grabbed for Ian, bony hands grasping his legs as he fought to hold on to the plants with what life he had left.
Then, as his heart stopped pumping, his lungs shuttering with dead air and his vision blackening, both worlds pulsed for the second time.
For Ian, it meant the painful end to a life he had just realized how to truly live, a life filled with all the love and laughter he had ever dreamed of.
For Julia, it meant the black clouds swallowing the sky opened, lightening striking the earth just yards from where she sat before everything went white and completely silent.
For Whisper, it meant her moment of vengeance had finally come, had finally been granted to her after so many years of bitter hatred, and so with an evil snarl of detestation she swung the blade down.
And deep into the gut of the Raven-Eater.
When the newly mortal tyrant collapsed, a confused look spread across his scarred face, she lowered herself to his level and pulled the sword from his stomach. Blood and guts caked the blade, and she pushed it up against the bottom of his chin so he could smell his own death.
“The Land of the Dead,” Whisper sneered haughtily, “belongs to me.”
Chapter 45
Ian awoke with a start. Sunshine and singing birds greeted him upon waking, and when he leapt up off the bench he spun around and realized he was back in the park at Big Creek Campground.
“What…” He peered around, grabbing his hair and finding it clean, frantically searching his arms and seeing them scratch and blood-free. His clothes were spotless, his muscles felt refreshed, and his feet were no longer on fire. It was over. His journey had finally, thankfully, come to an end.
“A dream?” he asked himself, thoroughly confused. “It couldn’t be…”
Then he noticed that Cole was nowhere to be seen.
“No,” he whispered, his heart starting to beat harder. “Goddamn it, no. Cole! Cole, answer me! Now!”
He knew exactly where to go, and although the thought of returning to the woods was depressing, he would suffer through Hell and back to prevent another trip to the Land of the Dead.
When he burst through the other side, he saw Cole standing on the riverbank, dazed and disoriented. “Cole!”
“Dad!” Cole spun around and raced to his father, who dropped to his knees and gathered his son into a tight hug.
“Oh, God, Cole…it worked. It actually worked. How is that even possible?”
Cole pulled back, fear flickering into his eyes. “It was real?”
Ian hesitated, asking himself that very same question. Was it real?
Could they have actually spent the past month-and-a-half trapped in the Land of the Dead, fighting witches, giant worms, evil leaders with super-human powers? Now that he was standing on the riverbank dressed in nice clothes and enjoying the sunshine streaming through the leaves, he wasn’t so sure.
But he knew how to find out.
With a shaking hand, Ian reached out and lifted the sleeve of Cole’s bright blue shirt. And there, just below the shoulder, were three burn marks etched into his skin. To show he was accepted by the Raven-Eater, Whisper had said.
“It was real,” he murmured, dread curling in his gut. Then he looked down to see the necklace at Cole’s feet, the one Whisper had pulled from Gentle Heart’s throat, the one made by the hair of the Raven-Eater.
Bury it at Howling Vines, she had ordered.
“Cole, we have to go see someone,” he said slowly, picking up the necklace. “Then we can go home.”
The trip that took nearly two hours the first time only lasted half that this time around. Ian and Cole hurried down the path, not taking the time to talk about what happened, not bothering to reflect on what it was like to be back in the light, with sounds and colors all around them. Instead, they marched steadily until they reached Howling Vines.
“What do we do here?” Cole asked as they entered the clearing. Ian didn’t answer, as Elder Smoke Speaker had already risen and was hobbling their way.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he greeted, clasping Ian’s hand with a quick shake. “Come, we must hurry.” He eagerly and quickly led them to the hearth, where he had removed the hot stones and coals and dug a hole at least eleven feet deep. How he had managed it by himself was something Ian couldn’t take the time to consider. “The boy must bury the necklace. Now.”
Beyond the Western Sun Page 30