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Dark Traveler

Page 22

by Catie Rhodes


  Ideas flooded my mind. My mother had hated herself. Maybe she’d hated me, but she’d hated herself more. It didn’t excuse what she’d done or how she’d treated me, but I understood now she’d been unhappy too. I could pity her. I could forgive her.

  And with forgiving the woman who’d abandoned me, my hate for her lessened until it was no more consequential than a spill that needed wiping up. I accepted that I’d never change the way she’d felt about me, that I could only change how I reacted to it.

  My chest hitched several times, and I realized I was crying. Not just crying, but sobbing, arms clutched around myself. I cried myself out and looked for the way forward.

  I crouched on the edge of the drop-off. Just a few feet to my left, water rushed over the edge and splattered on rocks, creating a rainbow mist that drifted onto the steps. I’d have to be careful. I let myself drop. My feet hit the first step and almost flew out from under me.

  Panicked grunts escaping me, I grabbed for a root sticking out of the embankment beside me. A set of tiny black eyes stared out at me. A snake. I jerked back. The snake, just a water snake, flicked its tongue out at me.

  Keep going, said a voice that came from all around me. The snake meant no harm. He was only there to remind me that this process was one of rebirth.

  I did what it said, reaching the next riser with a little more bravery. Now that I knew my routine, I didn’t have to dig through my bag of things to let go.

  I took out the picture of Felicia Brent Fischer Holze I’d printed off the internet. My old enemy had a new last name but seemed to be up to her old tricks of swinging man to man to get what she wanted out of life.

  My business with Felicia was over, had been since she and her awful family burned down the house I was raised in and I beat their asses for it. But Felicia represented all the malicious bullying I’d endured growing up. She represented every bloody nose I gave and got. All the negativity and mistrust I felt when I met someone new.

  A flash of anger lit my emotions, and my fist curled as though I was being called upon to defend myself. I took a deep breath and let the anger go as best as I could and set the picture on the muddy ground near where the water washed over the slight drop-off.

  “I’m sorry I took the way they treated me so personally. I’m not sorry for being different. I still hate them all.”

  A crackle answered my words. The snake had followed me down here and now lay in a lazy curve, watching me. A wind shook the trees. The noise seemed to say, rebirth.

  Staying mad wasn’t any kind of rebirth. And it wasn’t letting go either. I tried to look on the situation from a different angle. After a few seconds, I found it.

  Kids are mean to each other. It's how they learn about the world. I hadn’t always been Miss Nicey-Nice myself. What we’d done to each other was done. It was time for me to let it go.

  Letting go didn’t mean I had to be asshole buddies with any of those walking turds or that I had to slow down if they crossed the street in front of me. It just meant I needed to be kinder to myself.

  The piece of paper with Felicia’s ugly mug printed on it crackled and burned without any encouragement from me. I leaned over it and blew the ashes into the wind.

  “Go away,” I whispered.

  The fire of hate that never stopped burning at the pit of my stomach blazed high, the way fires always do when the oxygen is cut off. Awful images ached behind my eyes. Every awful emotion I’d felt at the hands of those people came out for one last hurrah. Then I let my mind blow it all away into the void where memories go to die.

  I didn’t cry the way I had when forgiving Barbie. Instead, an emptiness opened where the old hate had been. The snake flicked its tongue at me and slithered away. I’d have to grow to fill that emptiness with good things.

  The trail went on in front of me, another drop-off looming a few feet away. I squatted there, this time more careful to find a way to let myself down easy instead of jumping. My feet slid on the narrow step, but I was ready and just took the next step down. That’s what life was about after all, riding out the bad shit and moving forward.

  I took the steps to the next riser and pulled out the next picture, this one ripped from one of the home decorating magazines I secreted away in the cabinet next to my bed.

  They all ran features on quaint houses surrounded by white picket fences, with an abundance of sunlight flooding into them and colorful accents bringing the house to life. In front of the houses were always flower-choked arbors and white rocking chairs just waiting for someone to sit in them and watch the lightning bugs float around the yard.

  I laid the picture, my favorite out of all the magazines I had right now, on the ground, knelt next to it, and waited for the emotion to come.

  It did, in the form of deep hurt and loss opening up in my chest. It went so deep I couldn’t find the beginning or the end. This picture represented my image of normal, and normal represented happy. When I tore this picture out of the magazine it came in, I threw away all the others, vowing not to buy another.

  “I’ll never have you,” I whispered at the picture. “Maybe I’ll have something equally desirable. Maybe I won’t. Life will be good, and I’ll find things to be happy about either way.”

  Anger flared inside me over the loss of normal. I let the fire roar, stoking it with self-pitying thoughts. Then I let it go. The mantle lashed out at the picture as though it hated it. The picture bubbled and flames licked around its edges. In seconds, there was nothing left. The wind came again and blew it away.

  I walked forward on my journey. This drop-off was much greater, at least ten feet. There were no steps at the bottom. It landed on a muddy bank next to a pool of water roiling from the force of the waterfall rushing into it.

  I took a deep breath, squatted, and slipped over the side as gently as I could. The impact still landed me on my ass in a wet splat. Dampness from the mud soaked through my jeans immediately. I climbed to my feet, brushing uselessly at the mud, and took the last item from my bag.

  I set the black and white picture on the ground, hand shaking. It was a picture of someone’s ultrasound. Not mine. That picture burned up with Memaw’s house, thanks to Felicia and family.

  Next to it, I dropped the cheap, plain gold-plate band Hannah and I had bought in the costume jewelry section in a discount store before we came home from lunch. The one my ex-husband gave me the day we said our vows also burned up or melted when Felicia and her awful family burned my house to the ground.

  It wasn’t so much the failed marriage or even the beating that resulted in the miscarriage of my only pregnancy. It was what the failure represented. Me not liking myself enough to make good decisions.

  “I treat myself like worthless junk.” Tears sprang into my eyes at the truth of it. I treated myself no better than my mother, the Felicias of the world, and my ex-husband had treated me.

  “I’m going to do better.” My voice quaked. The fire in my chest came back. This time so intense, I could do nothing but clutch at it.

  The mantle coiled inside me, ready for action. But I needed to make the first move on this one. I flicked my fingers at the mound of broken dreams. It burst into hot blue flames, burning only for a few seconds, and disappeared into the earth.

  All I’d seen and done as I traveled alongside this water welled up, and I cried like a tired child. The emotions hurt more than any fistfight I’d ever gotten into. The tears slid down my face as a final goodbye to it all.

  The mantle flared, moving more freely than it had before, but not completely unleashed yet. I’d have to do this again. Possibly more than once. Maybe each time would be easier. I laughed at my own naivety. Stuff that was worth having scratched and kicked the hardest.

  I stared at the drop-off I’d used to get down here, trying to figure out how I’d get back up. Tanner, if he even came this far, had probably climbed back up with no problem. Could I do it? Only one way to find out.

  I took a running start and managed to jump
high enough to get my hands over the drop-off. But the ground was soft. I just pulled off two hands of sod and landed right back on my butt. I sat next to the pool of water, watching the way the waterfall constantly renewed it.

  The mistake I’d made hit me. I had come to the underworld, but I hadn’t died. Without death, I couldn’t be reborn. Staring out at the pool of water, I thought again about baptism, the symbolic death and rebirth I’d so quickly rejected.

  It would be a way to die and be reborn, my mind whispered.

  I didn’t want to get in this pool of water. No telling how deep it was. What if I got caught up in roots on the bottom? And that snake I’d seen earlier. There were more of them somewhere.

  But the water called to me, dark depths inviting. Maybe I’d never come back up. If that happened, I’d win. Miss Ugly wouldn’t get to kill me. I smiled at the childish thought and got to my feet.

  A row of boulders stretched out over the water. Had they been a bridge for whoever built those older steps Tanner had mentioned? Maybe.

  I walked out on the first one, arms waving to keep my balance. Maybe I could make myself jump in. Three boulders out, I hit a slick surface. Fate made the choice for me.

  My feet slid forward. I did a wild, arm-waving dance. Then I remembered what I’d come to do and dove face-first into the water. Cold, winter cold, seeped into my clothes and shocked my heart. Rather than floating to the top, I sank, some invisible force pulling me under.

  The mantle heated inside my chest, burning with a hotter fire than the one I’d conjured to burn away my past. The stress on my body made my lungs scream for oxygen. I struggled to rise to the top, but I only sank deeper. My feet hit bottom.

  The need for oxygen beat at my chest like wings of a frantic bird. The mantle answered with its white fire, which brought an ache so intense, so awful, I forgot to fight. My muscles went loose. I accepted my death.

  Whatever force had held me down let go, propelling me at the water’s surface. The light came closer and closer. I broke the surface with a whooping gasp. It sounded not too different than Miss Ugly.

  I swam to the shore opposite where I’d started, weak muscles shaking, and lay in the sun on the muddy bank, trying to catch my breath. With each lungful of oxygen, more of the mantle escaped the scar tissue. It stung like acid as it seeped into my muscles and nestled deep in my brain.

  Shadows descended over my vision, the entirety of the earth moving and shimmering around me. The black opal heated. Somewhere, very far away, I heard Orev’s cry.

  The scar tissue spell still hadn’t gone. Not completely, but my magic had strengthened. It prickled over my skin and whispered in my mind. Had I strengthened myself enough to get the wheel of life working and save myself from Miss Ugly? I hoped so. Because after that, I still needed to do something about Oscar.

  I opened the dorky hip pack I’d strapped to my waist and took out the last item. The satisfaction of having done something right for once welled up inside me. When I’d put the wheel in the hip pack and strapped it to my waist, its color had been dull, the metal well-worn and soft but cold. Now a sunny nimbus glowed around it.

  “Give me another fate, one without Miss Ugly,” I whispered at the wheel, no idea what else to do. I put all my concentration into the command and held it until the light around the wheel died. Then I replaced it and began looking for a way to get back to Hannah and Tanner.

  Back across the pool waited the ten-foot rise that was too steep for me to climb. The shadows of the mantle darkened my vision again. My third eye spot ached, and tears blurred my vision.

  A nearby rock sparkled in the sun, so bright it could have been a diamond. I stumbled to it, dug it out of the mud, and found it was a hag stone, one where the water had worn a hole in the rock.

  Mysti loved these and collected them. The legends surrounding hag stones claimed peering through the hole in the center let you see into the other world. Feeling inspired, I fitted the hole over my third eye. The world shimmered, and the sound of the water frogs calling grew louder. In front of me, an overgrown path became clear. It was a trail, old and deep, ascending upward, back to the topside. I started walking.

  17

  The path I took somehow looped me around behind Tanner and Hannah. Despite the emotional exhaustion from my ritual, it was satisfying to outsmart Tanner after all his bragging about his stupid hikes. Plus, I got a good look at his muscular butt from this angle.

  “Hey,” I said to their backs.

  Hannah let out a little scream and spun around, tripping over her own feet. She ran at me, and we hugged. She never jumped up and down anymore when she hugged. The bad stuff she’d been through had taken it out of her.

  Tanner marched past me to peer down the trail. He turned to me frowning, as though I’d cheated. “I didn’t know that trail was there.”

  “It was on the other side of the pool at the base of the big waterfall. There’s some rocks crossing it if you walk a little way through the woods.” I tried to sound casual, as though it had been easy.

  Tanner nodded, then smiled a little. “You couldn’t lift yourself back up the drop-offs. Plus, you’re wet. That means you fell in the water.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to say something to Hannah. She faced the huge crevasse created by the ravine. Sunset glowed salmon and peach with a little dab of turquoise at top. Above it, the darkness ate the light, getting closer and closer to snuffing out the last of it.

  “Maybe Miss Ugly won’t come.” I stared out at the darkness, waiting for that awful, moaning howl.

  “Don’t worry about that old monster. You changed your fate down there.” Tanner pointed into the deepening night in the direction of the rushing creek.

  Hannah stood a few feet away from us, arms crossed over her chest. I walked away from Tanner to see what she thought. She ignored my approach. I leaned out so I could see her face and found her bug-eyed with her fists clenched.

  “What is it?” I put one hand on her arm.

  “You’re going to die.” She let out a shaky breath.

  “What?” I tried to laugh.

  She took a breath, probably to repeat herself, but she never got the chance.

  “Hoooooo.” It echoed in the ravine, floating up to us like a foul odor.

  I grabbed Hannah. “Run. Go back to camp. If I don’t come back, gather the runes, take them somewhere bottomless, and drop them in.” I knew bottomless sounded crazy, but this land was full of caves and caverns. There had to be a place.

  “Hoooooo.” This time it was closer. We had only seconds.

  I turned to Tanner. “You go with her. Help her.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “If my ritual didn’t work, she’s going to take me.” I grabbed his shirt and shook him.

  He shook his head again. “I won’t leave you to face her alone.”

  “Run,” I said again to Hannah.

  She stared at me, eyes wide, teeth chattering. She ran to me and hugged me. “I love you,” she whispered in my ear. I squeezed her back.

  “Don’t say goodbye yet. Your death visions aren’t always right.” I winked.

  Miss Ugly rose over the edge of the drop-off. She had a broom clenched between her legs. It should have looked ridiculous. Instead, the sight of her floating in midair, riding a broom, scared me more than just about anything else ever had.

  A scream rose up my throat, and I swallowed it down. I would not show fear or act like a sissy. I marched toward her.

  “It is done. You are mine.” She floated toward me.

  “Nope. I went down into the underworld and let go of my bad shit. Then I told the wheel to divorce my fate from yours. We’re done.” I shot my arms out like an umpire calling safe in baseball with a confidence I didn’t feel. Something was wrong. Miss Ugly wouldn’t have bothered to come across the veil unless she was sure of a free meal. But still I held out hope she’d ride off into the sunset and we’d never meet again.
r />   Miss Ugly flashed her rotten teeth and lowered herself until her nasty, long toenailed feet touched the ground. She let the broom drop. Crushing tension built in my chest as she walked toward me. “You might have changed your magic, but you did nothing to change your fate.”

  My heart thudded hard enough to jar my vision. The sour taste of bile rose up the back of my throat and jumped into my mouth. No. This wasn’t right. I’d died and been reborn. I’d changed my fate.

  Before I could present an argument, Miss Ugly launched herself at me, threw me to the ground, and ripped open my still-damp top. She finished scratching her signature in my chest. A lethargy heavier than I’d ever felt sat on me. I couldn’t even raise my arms to ward her off.

  Tanner rushed forward, grabbed me under the arms, and began dragging me away. I glanced at his face, expecting to see a fierce warrior. But he looked as terrified as I felt, eyes wide, gasping in horror.

  Miss Ugly stood with her gigantic feet crushing my chest, making it impossible to breathe. She shoved Tanner with both hands. He flew backward and landed hard enough to elicit a pained grunt.

  He bounced to his feet and came back with his fists up. Miss Ugly stalked toward him, both long-fingered hands raised with the claws splayed. I tried to move, to go help Tanner fight her, but I couldn’t move.

  “Run,” I tried to yell. My voice came out in a sluggish mush as Miss Ugly’s final dose of poison worked its magic.

  Miss Ugly advanced on Tanner. “Leave now with your life.”

  “I’m already dead. I died with my wife and kids.” Tanner darted in, threw several jabs at Miss Ugly’s face, and ducked away when she tried to claw at him.

  Miss Ugly held both arms out straight. She drew in a breath. The air around me changed. She was accessing her magic. Her arms grew by many inches. She slashed one out at Tanner and caught him across the face. He staggered away from her, hand held to his cheek.

 

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