by M. D. Massey
Better make this count.
Just as it had previously, the Grove provided me with a sort of three-dimensional view of the world around me. However, the primary information it provided me this time was the location of Throdog’s brain—a dark, football-sized mass that was surprisingly small for a creature so large. As the smooth muscle that lined the thing’s esophagus pushed me further toward Throdog’s center, the black, crenellated object neared.
As I slid closer to the god-spawn’s brain, I readied myself for my attack. The Oak had formed the bark-skin so the ends of my fingers and toes were sharp and claw-like. It wasn’t the ideal weaponry, and certainly not my first choice for such a task, but it’d have to do. I waited patiently, allowing myself to be pushed through Throdog’s esophagus until I was parallel with the vulnerable organ.
Then, I attacked.
Turning sideways inside Throdog’s throat, I jammed my feet against one side of the slimy shaft and thrust my arms in the opposite direction. As I did, I extended my fingers like spears, so the sharp projections on the ends pierced the soft, smooth membrane like knives. Upon penetrating the surface layer of the god-spawn’s throat, I met some resistance from the muscle on the other side. I pushed harder, making my entire body a single rigid structure.
As expected, the irritation I caused made Throdog’s throat muscles spasm. But rather than crushing me, instead it forced me further through the side of the beast’s throat. Immediately, I began clawing and tearing at the muscle and cartilage holding me back from my intended target: a quivering mass of fat and neurons not more than ten feet away.
By this time, I was free of Throdog’s throat, but making progress now was like swimming through greasy latex rubber. I had to tear through muscle and connective tissue to fight my way ahead, pulling myself along inch by tedious inch. It didn’t help that the god-spawn was going nuts all around me, and I hated to see what was happening to the Grove at the moment.
Still I pressed on, for what seemed like an eternity. Throdog’s bulk pressed in on me, and if I didn’t know any better I’d have sworn he was trying to squeeze me to death. My lungs and muscles were on fire as my body cried for oxygen. I began to fade in and out, and it was all I could do to keep myself from taking a breath.
But finally, I reached my destination. Throdog’s brain was dead ahead, encased in a thick, cartilaginous membrane. The tiny brain was obviously the god-spawn’s only weakness, and I was pleased to see that it was woefully under-protected. The obvious play was to rip through the cartilage to get at the fatty tissue and nerve clusters beneath, but I knew that I’d likely pass out before I could cause enough damage to kill the huge, amorphous god.
Thankfully, I had a better plan.
I simply sliced a hole through the protective membrane, one large enough to allow me access. Then, I thrust my hand inside Throdog’s “skull,” and released the lightning spell I’d prepared before I’d allowed the god-spawn to swallow me. Electricity crackled and arced from my fingertips, spreading in all directions and striking the delicate nervous tissue in multiple places. Throdog’s brain reacted to that insult just as a human brain would, by burning and short-circuiting as the many synapses inside the organ overloaded.
What I hadn’t accounted for was the effect it might have on the rest of Throdog’s anatomy. Electricity tends to release heat energy very rapidly when it meets with resistance, and in this case it was enough to instantly boil approximately one thousand gallons of god-spawn blood. Considering that water expands at a factor of 1600:1 when it turns from liquid to gas, it was easy to see where I screwed up. Add to that the volatility of Throdog’s blood—because who knew what unknown elements were present in the blood of a god—and the effects were rather explosive.
And that’s how you give a god an aneurysm—shit! was the last thing that went through my mind, right before approximately 15,000 cubic meters of fledgling Outer god exploded all over my Druid Grove.
4
Sometime later I awoke, curled up beneath the Druid Oak and nestled within a cozy bed of leaves and grass.
Nice to know the Grove was looking after me while I was out.
My muscles were stiff, but that could’ve been the result of lying in one position for an extended period of time. I sluggishly gave myself a once-over to determine if I’d suffered any serious injuries from the unexpected explosion of the god-spawn.
Once I verified that yes, all my parts were present and in the proper place, I checked to see how the Druid Grove was getting along. A quick visual scan of the surrounding area indicated that the Grove and Oak had wasted no time putting Throdog’s remains to good use. I saw no trace of the disgusting creature’s blue-black flesh, rubbery tentacles, cilia-like legs, or multitude of eyeballs.
Connecting with the Druid Grove through our mental link, I asked it for a situation report. It replied with a string of mental and emotional impressions, as well as a number of mental images, all of which together indicated that the Druid Grove had almost completely recovered. We were headed home.
Since I’d been stranded in the Void with the Druid Grove, I’d asked it many times what had happened to Jesse after I’d unintentionally claimed the Grove. Based on its replies, which usually amounted to images of caterpillar larvae in cocoons, birds in nests, and baby animals snuggled all cozy inside their dens, I had to assume that the Oak had transported her someplace safe. Physically, I knew she’d be safe—but mentally? I could only hope that she’d be able to recover from the trauma of being forcefully separated from the spirit of the Druid Oak.
Despite my misgivings, and whatever grudges I might have held against my ex for tricking me, I still considered it priority number one to check on Jesse and make sure she was okay. So, I instructed the Oak to take us directly to wherever she was just as soon as the Grove was capable of inter-dimensional travel. The tree replied in the affirmative, so I sat beneath it engaged in meditation while patiently awaiting the time at which we would finally be headed home.
When the hour finally arrived, there was no fanfare, no advance warning, nor even a message from the Grove to tell me we were about to traverse the normal boundaries of space and time. Instead, I felt a mental nudge from the Grove that roused me from my meditation, then the Druid Oak sent me an image of the junkyard and my bedroom inside the warehouse.
How the damn thing knew what the inside of my bedroom looked like was beyond me. Perhaps when we’d become mentally linked it was able to see and experience my memories secondhand. Or maybe it possessed sensory abilities that allowed its awareness to venture far and away from its physical location. If I had to guess, I would say it was a combination of the two possibilities. The Druid Oak and Grove were certainly not entities limited by any of the dimensional boundaries or physical laws that tied the typical human to a single temporal location.
Notably, the Druid Grove and Druid Oak were two interconnected, but separate entities—of that I had no doubt. It had taken me a while to suss that out, but after being connected to the Grove while in the Void, I came to realize that the Oak was the progenitor of the Grove. Much like a child is born from its mother’s womb, the Druid Grove was for all purposes the offspring of the Oak. The two were connected but separate entities, each with their own “mind” and personality.
In fact, they were so thoroughly connected that I often found it difficult to determine where one ended and the other began. Certainly, I could communicate with each separately and simultaneously and task them with different purposes and functions. Yet, the delineation between the two was both fluid and elusive.
If I had to put their relationship in practical terms, the Druid Oak was the power, and the Druid Grove, its expression. It was a simple explanation—obviously the relationship and interconnection between the two was likely much more complex and nuanced than I currently understood. Yet for now, my limited understanding would at least allow me to interact with them in meaningful ways to pursue our mutual goals and needs.
Time to go find out
what happened to Jesse—and see if she’s still crazier than an outhouse rat.
I stood, unraveling my legs from the lotus position and shaking them out to encourage circulation and deal with my residual muscle soreness. Then I laid a hand on the bark of the Druid Oak, apologizing for the hundredth time for damaging it and placing us in such a dangerous situation. The Druid Oak sent back feelings of warmth and encouragement. It was incapable of holding a grudge against its master—who could hold a grudge like nobody’s business.
When a sentient magical construct is a better person than you are, you know you have issues.
After thanking the Oak for its gracious attitude and helping to keep us safe, I requested to be sent Earthside, back to the junkyard. I no longer had the need to walk widdershins around the Oak’s trunk in order to travel to and from the Grove. Now that our connection was complete and whole, it took but a thought for me to travel from that little pocket dimension back to my home on Earth.
As I appeared in the junkyard, standing beneath the expansive reach of the Druid Oak’s foliage, I was greeted by a rather peculiar sight. There in front of me, emerging like a sprouting seed from the rich dark earth, was Jesse. She lay on her side, curled up and naked as the day she was born. It occurred to me that she was effectively being birthed from the earth beneath the oak tree, just as if she were a nascent dryad rising up from the soil that gave her life.
For a moment I paused. Although she looked human, I wondered if she really had been made fully human again. Or perhaps she still remained partially or even fully dryad—and therefore, partially or perhaps fully insane.
I’d barely finished that thought when her eyes fluttered open and she took a sharp intake of breath. Then, a single word escaped from those cherry blossom lips I once knew so well.
“Colin?”
It’s funny how a heart can break in an instant. Mine broke for her in that moment, seeing her so vulnerable and alone. It had been easy to maintain a level of distrust and animus toward Jesse when she was a dryad. Now, however, she looked very, very human—and very much like the young woman I once loved.
And still love? I guess the jury’s out on that.
“I’m here, Jess,” I replied.
Despite my misgivings, I immediately began to attend her needs. I pulled a jacket out of my Craneskin Bag, one of the few mundane items I’d chosen not to feed to the Grove, and draped it across her shoulders as she sat up. It was still nighttime in the city, but based on the position of the stars, it’d be morning soon. If I had to guess, I’d say that we’d returned to the junkyard within a few hours of the time we’d departed.
Jesse pulled the jacket around herself and shivered, then tucked her hair behind her head self-consciously, her eyes avoiding mine. “Colin, I—am I alive?“
“Let’s just get you inside, alright?”
She nodded, and I lent her a hand as she stood on shaky legs, like a newborn foal taking its first steps across the meadow. Jesse leaned against me, hesitantly at first and then with greater confidence as I walked her to the warehouse and my room in the back. The door had been left open, the light was on, and Belladonna’s perfume still lingered in the air.
Thankfully, my bed remained intact. Although it was probably time for an upgrade. I’d pulled the rusted old bed frame from a pile of scrap in the yard. Ed had called the rust “patina,” which still made me chuckle. I’d never move out of here, not if I could help it, because doing so would be abandoning my uncle’s memory. Still, my lifestyle could definitely use an upgrade.
Jesse cleared her throat, and I realized I’d allowed my mind to drift. I shook off those stray thoughts and guided her to the only chair in the room.
“You should sit down,” I suggested. She obliged, for lack of any other option. I grabbed a blanket off the bed and covered her with it, then pulled a bottle of water from my dorm fridge and handed her that as well.
She still wouldn’t look at me, choosing instead to sip at the bottle of water as her eyes darted around the room. “You’re sure I’m alive?”
“Yes, Jesse. As far as I can tell, you’re alive and human again.”
Jess shook her head. “Something’s wrong. I’m—seeing things.”
“It’s probably just a residual effect of being made human again,” I offered.
“I had no idea that things would turn out this way,” she whispered. “The Dagda offered me a chance to be with you again, and I took it despite the consequences. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
I really didn’t know what to do with myself in the moment, so I plopped down on my bed and followed her lead by avoiding eye contact. “Jesse, there’s a lot that needs to be said, but right now I have to know—”
“Do I feel human?” She shrugged with her shoulders slumped and knees together, like a small child awaiting punishment. “I am, at least as far as I can tell. But there’s still a little magic there—something that was left behind when I was separated from the Druid Grove’s spirit. The question is, am I fully alive?”
“I don’t get what you’re saying.”
Jesse waved my comment off. “It’s nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”
Since I wasn’t getting answers from Jess, I sent a message to the Druid Oak.
What’s wrong with her?
The Oak sent me an image of a seed, green and glowing, nestled inside Jesse’s chest, alongside something dark and hazy. I took the seed image as a figurative message, an indication that some of the Grove’s magic remained inside of her. As for the darkness, I had no clue.
“The Oak agrees that a bit of the nature magic remained inside of you.”
She glanced up at me, and for the first time I noticed that her hair had changed. Jesse had taken to dyeing her straight, auburn locks a combination of plum purple and black in the months before she died. Now it really was black as midnight, save for a bright silver mallen streak at her widow’s peak, where her hair naturally parted down the middle.
But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Jesse’s moss-green eyes—thankfully now very human-looking—shone like two emeralds, bright and filled with light and life. Yet she’d paled considerably, leaving her formerly-freckled skin an ivory expanse free of any mark or blemish. And standing in stark contrast to her milky white complexion, her lips were the color of dark cherries—or blood, take your pick.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d have pegged her for a vampire, but her skin was warm and she had a heartbeat. Clearly, death and the Grove’s magic had left its mark on her, in more ways than one.
“It talks to you now?”
I nodded. “It does, the Oak and the Grove both.”
She sniffed and rubbed her nose. “Feels weird, not having it inside my head. Like something is missing, you know?”
“I can only imagine. We were stuck in the Void for a while—although it’s only been a few hours here—and I’ve already grown accustomed to it myself.”
Jesse pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “The Grove was falling apart, and had been for some time. What I did, it was desperation—you realize that, right?”
“Did you know what would happen?”
Her eyes darted away as she replied. “No. Back in Underhill, the Dagda had told me that if the Grove was ever in danger, and if you hadn’t yet mastered its magic, then I was to seduce you. All I knew at the time was that he wanted you to claim the Grove. Obviously, he’s a god and Tuath Dé, so I initially suspected he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. But after I became part of the Grove, I acted entirely on instinct. Logic never factored into my decisions.”
She’s hiding something—but what?
Despite her transformation, I still didn’t fully trust her. I chose to respond with a nod, because I was emotionally conflicted and didn’t want to say anything I might regret. I’d done more than enough of that over the last few months, that was for certain. A quick glance at her bare feet reminded me that she was still a mess. Jesse had dirt betwee
n her toes and in her hair, and smudges here and there on her arms and face.
I clapped my hands on my thighs and stood. “Well, what’s done is done. We can unpack all our baggage later, but for now we need to get you cleaned up and dressed. Then, we’ll figure out how we’re going to explain or hide the fact that you’ve come back from the dead—this time for real, it seems.”
“For a time,” she whispered, choking up and burying her face in her hands. Before I could ask her what she meant by that, she continued. “Do you know what? That whole time after I came back, I never once thought about seeing my family. Not once! You can’t let them know, Colin—promise me that, please.”
“Hey, don’t cry now, we’ll figure this all out.” I reached out for her, hesitating for an instant before I laid a hand on her shoulder. “I promise, alright? Nobody has to know you’re back.”
Before I knew it, she’d wrapped her arms around my waist and laid her head against my stomach, at which point she began to cry in huge wracking sobs. For lack of any other option I held her close, rubbing her back and whispering that everything would be alright. But that’s not how I felt.
Jesse’s human again, the Druid Grove is repaired, and we’re all back on Earth. This should be a time for celebration. So why does everything feel so wrong?
A few hours later, Jesse had cleaned up and gotten dressed in some clothes Maureen brought for her. While Jess had been showering, I’d called Maureen and then Finnegas, catching them up on all that had happened while simultaneously asking for their assistance. It didn’t take long for the two of them to appear, Maureen fussing over the girl while Finnegas cried like a baby. Jesse had been like a daughter to him, so I gave them their privacy while they enjoyed their reunion.
