by Trinity Crow
I let the talk flow around me, keeping my face blank. The kids all rushed to hug me.
"You came!"
I winced at the surprise in Nathan's voice. But who was I kidding? I had never given them any reason to believe I would be there for them. In fact, I had done my level best to teach them no one would ever be there for them. I felt ashamed and cut up inside. I want to run, but they were still clinging to me.
"I knew you would." Em's leaned her head against my shoulder. I swallowed hard. It took a good half hour and a promise to visit the next day before I could get Sayre and myself out of there.
"And bring food!" Nathan said.
I collapsed into the front seat, feeling a desperate need for chocolate and some me time.
"That little one Em? She's going to need some guidance," Sayre said.
Em? I thought. Sturdy little Em, a member of the woo clan? Sure, why not?
"What about this?" I asked to Sayre, nodding to the mess in the trashcan.
Sayre shrugged. "Looks like you get to meet Rosa after all."
Chapter 29
I spent the afternoon in the empty house, trying desperately to distract myself, with only the dead Millers trapped in a stuffed dog to keep me company. They kept a low profile perhaps sensing the mood I was in. Things had gotten completely out of hand and I couldn't keep up with the emotions I had stuffed inside of me. Things that were supposed to be locked away kept resurfacing and I found myself more than once wiping away tears I hadn't realized I was crying. I stared out the kitchen window, across the treetops to the Evers' house. It wasn't even her house, I thought bitterly. Somehow through marriage and no doubt double-dealing, she had come in possession of what had been my family's home once. My family. The words made me almost nauseous. I had found them and lost them. Just like that. Against my will, my eyes fell on the burned black spot in the yard, the spot where Corky had breathed his last. Something lay in the center of the burned patch. I frowned. What had blown on to there? Desecrating it. I opened the door and moved down the stairs, slowly, in no hurry to see the place up close again, but unwilling to leave trash on Corky's only grave. I stepped closer and frowned. His collar. It was blackened and the leather shriveled. I picked it up and felt the force of his memory threated to slam into me. I pushed back against it. Not wanting the pain. Around me, the trees began to rustle. The winds of Ruelliquen stirred to life on my behalf. It circled me, soothing me, stroking my hair, giving me calm from the storm of my grief. In that space, I sensed something. I looked down at the collar in my hands in wonderment and saw the night Julia died unfolded in my head. The trees black columns against a wavering moon. Julia lay propped against a tree, her arm over Corky her eyes burning with determination as she bound her self to the world. Tied to a talisman object and what would have been available to her, in the woods? I saw in a memory that was not mine, her hand tighten on Corky's collar. Her mouth move as she focused her will and bound her soul will the last bit of life force she had. I fell her presence tied to the collar in my hand and through it a ribbon, a line of hope, that I might see Corky again some day. I lifted my head. Not bothering to wipe any tears and stared at the hedge separating me from what lay beyond. Somewhere in that house, lay Julia body bound to old ways. Tied in twisted charms to bend her to the will of the people who had played a hand in her death. I could set her free. Death wasn't this awful thing to fight against like everybody thought. Maybe it was just that quiets in the storm, where you didn't have to feel anymore, didn't have to hurt. I started walking towards the big house, mind made up. Whatever it cost me, I was going to let Julia…and Corky, go. I bit my trembling lip. I wanted them to take me to. There was nothing here for me. There were only pain and loss and a future of my heart being slowly torn to pieces. I just wanted to be done. I glanced down at the burned spot one last time and thought no price seemed too high anymore.
I wasn't clear on what I was going to do or how I was going to do it. I only knew this felt like the right thing. I walked slowly through the oleander hedge, remembering the first time I had come here with the ad from the bakery, hoping to find a place to live. It seemed a lifetime ago. I hurried through the garden where I had planted and picked vegetables with Mrs. Evers and up the shallow stairs to the porch where we had sat to shell beans. It had all been lies and deceit to get what she wanted from me. All of the good feeling from helping the kids left me. It didn't matter. I was glad they were okay, but more than ever I wasn't. Too much had happened. I had given too much of myself away to Corky and the chance to feel something, to belong. NOw I was on my own. It wasn't a bad thing. It just was. Mrs. Evers had gotten what she deserved and Julia deserved a chance to be free. It was the last thing I really owed anyone.
The back door was closed but when I twisted the handle, it opened easily. I used a gardening boot to prop it open, feeling trapped at the thought of it shut behind me. The kitchen was as I remembered it, just a kitchen, no black magic, roosting bats or potions laying about. My footsteps rang hollow on the floorboards and the sound echoed in the empty house. I should have been on edge, maybe even scared, but there was nothing left in me. The worst that could happen, had happened. And death or spooky bullshit wasn't anything that frightened me now. I was the scariest thing in this house. If anything came at me, it was going to be my pleasure to fuck it up. I walked through to the hall, the doors on either side shut. Some had red ribbons taped across them in X's like yellow crime scene tape. Whatever was in there wasn't what I had come for. At the end of the hall were the foyer and the blocked front door. And it was blocked on the inside, too. Furniture had been piled up to keep it closed and wood nailed over the windows. Mrs. Evers clearly had had some issues. The center table had a big vase of some kind of dried flowers. Not the dried on purpose florist kind, but dead shriveled up things. I skirted the table, keeping my hands to myself. There was a staircase to my left. Not upstairs. I felt the weird unpleasant energy flowing down the stairs and made a chopping motion.
"None of that shit." I didn't realize I had spoken out loud and the harsh, angry sound of my voice made me pause. Then I smiled, feeling my lips peel back and the air against my exposed teeth. I probably looked insane. I felt it. I like killing something, someone. Like some broken old lady in the hospital. I wavered, right or left, and then chose. As I crossed the threshold, I saw that I had chosen correctly. The room had chairs lined against three walls and the fourth held a glass display case with sliding doors. Instead of jewelry or china, Julia lay there, curled helplessly on her side.
This was no Sleeping Beauty, no Snow White poised in perfection for eternal rest. She was shrunken and decayed, and what skin and flesh were left had shriveled into brittle clumps, making her much more horrific than just the clean bones of a skeleton. A tuft or two of hair was still attached to her head, remnants of cloth, disintegrating with age, clung here and there, from this side a pelvis bone rose from the decayed cloth. I swallowed hard, seeing her feet drawn up into birdlike claws. The sight was freaky and scary, but mostly heartbreaking that she had come to this. I crouched down beside her and slid the doors open, a smell of age and dry rot wafted out, and I had the worst urge to sneeze. I took a deep breath and double blinked. I expected the world to turn gray, the only ribbons of color to be from spirit or supernatural energy, instead, the world was red and hazed. I blinked, trying to figure out what the deal was. I realized the whole place was saturated with some kind of woo juice, coloring even the aura of the air. Even my shoes were covered in it. Not acceptable.
My jacket made a good cushion and I slipped off my tainted sneakers and sat cross-legged on the jacket. It took no concentration to call the wind. The sadness and pity I felt for Julia already had my hair floating like a wreath around my head, and I cast the wind down the hall and out the open door dispersing whatever had collected in the room. I paused, staring at the doorway and imagined a pulsing whirl of wind back drafting the aura from the room, like the fans that force the hot air out of an attic. The air swirled, coll
ecting the spelled energy and driving it out. The room settled into gray, but as I moved my head, I became aware another color was taking its place. Light emanated from Julia's corpse, a silver twist, a white radiance that I had seen once before through Corky's ears as I had stared at my own hand. I could see it now if I chose because Corky had only ever been a doorway to my own power. Slowly, I opened myself and the air hummed as my energy, a golden light, swirled from me. I watched in awe as it twisted in tendrils like fingers seeking, There was no fear as my aura met Julia's and joined. Everything I thought I knew was gone and everything I ever believed about who I was and my lack of worth crumbled as her sure knowledge of my value and her overwhelming love flooded me. And I let it.
We were one blood, we were mother and daughter separated by the generations, the years and the tragedies that had pulled us apart and now we were home. I sat there for an eternity and gradually I knew I didn't need an elaborate spell. I just needed to do this. Accept, embrace and let her go. As her aura drifted separating from my own, I braced myself for a feeling of loss and grief like when I lost Corky, but it never came. Instead, I felt full and comforted and I saw with wonder that my aura had threads of silver matching Julia's own. She was gone and I was home. And there was only one thing left to do. For two hundred years, the geas laid on the town to call the lost had done more than bring one little foster girl, heir to the LaPierre dynasty. It had broken up families and trapped innocents who lived and died here, never to be reunited with loved ones, it had made LaPierre a blank spot on Google Earth and a lost world all of its own and that ended now.
I took the paring knife from my pocket and cut across all five fingers. With hands as steady as a rock, I reached out and wiped the blood down Julia’s shriveled face. My bloodied fingers slid down pebbled fissure skin and skidded slightly across the smooth surface of her teeth. I drew my hand down across her ribcage and down the tatters of the bloody gown she had given birth and been murdered in, across legs that had run joyfully alongside Corky as they paddled in our creek, down to feet that would never tread this earth again.
"I am the child that was lost," I spoke to the waiting in the air. "I am home and claim my place."
The crack threw me across the room and I slammed heavily into a god-awful ugly chair with a weird hairy seat. I staggered up and promptly fell down again. The whole house was shaking. I crawled to the door, the beginnings of panic rippling through me. My protective numbness had been scoured away by the humanity of Julia’s love. and now I didn't want to die. I met my own whirlwind at the door and cast it around me to protect me as I scuttled on hands and knees, lurching and falling as I made for the back door. Pictures fell from the walls, and doors opened and slammed randomly. A high pitched keening filled the air, and in terror, I pulled myself to my feet. Every step, I took the ground shifted, making me weave and stagger like a drunk. The kitchen table slid sideways across the floor obstructing my path. I launched myself across it and out the door. Outdoors was no better, the earth heaving and rolling beneath my feet. The garden churned like boiling water, and I loped across the pitching grass to the bushes and dove through them. My only thought was the only indigo fields, clear of trees and buildings that could fall. I could only pray the earth did not open up and swallow me. I made for the driveway, falling, skinning my hands and knees, the red rivulets running down and soaking into the dirt and gravel. The earth boomed in protest and I closed my eyes against the rushing darkness. But it took me anyway.
Chapter 30
You think the spirits would give it a rest, me being unconscious and all. But my life had never been about lucky breaks. I knew I was unconscious, but I was perfectly aware of everything around me. The spirits of Ruelliquen were walking once again.
The wind that had greeted me when I arrived, backed off when I found Corky, and then returned to comfort me was, in fact, a host of the dead. Centuries of those who lived and died and loved here. They filled the air, the trees, and rustled through the grass of the long-ago indigo and cane fields. I watched as awareness crossed their faces, as they stared across the boundary of life and death, and understood they were free to choose. Some were glad to go. I saw their souls twine with silver lights and watched them disappear into the aether. Others were lost or angry, unsure how to get across or if they wanted to go. The wind swirled in a gentle cyclone keeping them clear of my body and I could see now, the wind had only ever been my power, catching up happy spirits when I was happy, angry ones when I was mad. I could set them free or bind them to my will. And I gladly released them, wishing them a joy that felt beyond me. Others clustered around me, adding their power to mine. There was something welcoming about the power that formed a barrier between me and the world. I felt comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a long time. The ground beneath me held my family's history, but beyond that, the history of whoever held the land before the ships brought us here. I couldn't think what I wanted from life anymore. I had only wanted to be left alone.
The spirits wove around me in gossamer strands. I could feel their life's echoes of happiness or sorrow. They were connected by blood, by common pain, by loss, and by this place. Beneath me. the ground heaved in soft waves, reeling with the power that had been unleashed. I saw my body, crumpled and unmoving, beside an oak. But it didn't seem to matter. Around me, the air was filled with sparkles of silver and twists of gold. I could go now, slip into the aether. Was it an end to pain? To worry? To loss?
Something tugged at me and I looked across the fields where some of these spirits had worked and sweated out their lives. Four small figures were coming, fighting against the power that made them stagger and fall. Aren, Amandine, Sayre, and Raven. I felt the pull of death. The silver lights meant an end to this pain, but also to whatever my future held. Before me, Raven staggered and fell. The others reached for her and pulled her onwards.
Why were they fighting for me? What was I worth?
Aren crumpled to the ground, and when they could not lift her, she waved them on towards me. Choosing me over her. Why would she do that?
Had I been so focused on Corky, a connection I thought was safe, that I ignored all the love that was being offered? I thought of Sayre's laughter and her refusal to let my walls keep her out. Of Aren's eyes bright with hope as she offered me tea and friendship. That odd catch in Amandine's voice when she said not to think of her as family. And Raven…her face telling me she knew what it felt like to want to run.
The spirits pressed against me, holding back my friends. They offered me the only thing they knew to stop the pain, oblivion. I felt the call of Amandine's chant and saw Sayre's bright lights hurl themselves against the spirits as she tried to reach me. So much love. So many people fighting for me.
How could I not fight for myself?
I gathered the power close, soothing the spirits of LaPierre, telling them this was my choice, and then let the ties that bind, bind me to my body. Breath surged into my lungs and I opened my eyes to the light, choosing life.
The End
Author Notes
Thank you for reading Crooked Crossroads. Please take a minute to leave a review. The more reviews, the more a book gets noticed. Notice can translate to sales which means I have the ability to pay bills and write more books. Otherwise, I will end up as your favorite pizza delivery girl instead of your favorite author! You can get the second Child Lost novel here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H9K185Q. I've included a sneak peek at the first chapter at the end of this book. Hope you like it!
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I was a reader before I was a writer and will be one for the rest of my life. You guys hold a special place in my heart. Without you to read and love my characters and their worlds, these stories are just soundless trees falling i
n a forest. One hand clapping. You are the keepers of the lore. You save worlds from extinction by reading. You are my tribe.
Acknowledgements
First off, my dad. For reading to us as kids and instilling a love of reading that has been a huge part of my life and has served me well in any task I have undertaken. No one gets a manual and no parent is perfect, please believe I carry only the good memories forward. Thank you also for being there whenever I needed gas money or a place to do laundry. And for putting up with me and the dogs over semester breaks.
A posthumous thank you to my first librarian, Louise LaMothe, a more gracious woman never lived. You never chased us kids off the steps. You were never to busy to speak or help me find a book. You led me into the secret mysteries of card catalogs and Dewey Decimals. You were the village of my childhood and I wish I could tell you what you mean to me.
To my childhood home, Algiers Point and the Mississippi River, you taught me settings are characters in their own right. You gave me secrets and superstition, tangled up with the scent of magnolias and river mud. I was unimaginably lucky to grow up cradled in such history and beauty.
To my dogs, Tink and Raskle…you guys. You are my writing partners, my plot puzzlers, both my joy and the bane of my existance.
To Earl Chessler. I never met Earl and I can now never thank him properly for what he did for me. Earl was the admin of a writing group I belonged to. On the strength of a few writing samples sunmitted in group, Earl shipped me a Dell Inspiron 15 laptop from Amazon after hearing I was writing with pen and paper. A stranger invested hundreds of dollars in me and my writing. His only request was that I, one day, publish. Earl has since passed away and he is, no doubt, a patron saint of all writers. Thank you for believing in my words.
