by Trinity Crow
A distant howl rose up in the lonely night and beside me, Cassie started violently and then shuddered.
"That fox again," she said, her mouth going tight.
"I don't think foxes howl, Cassie," I said slowly, disturbed by her reaction. It was the wrong thing to say.
Abruptly, she sat up, letting the phone fall to the bed while shrinking away from the wall. "No?" she asked, eyes alarmed. "But you do hear it right? You hear it too?"
I nodded, startled by the change in her. "Yes, I . . . I have heard them here before."
Cassie relaxed marginally. "What does howl like that?" She sounded more fearful than curious.
"Coyotes, wolves."
"Wolves!" Cassie sat bolt upright, her voice rising in a shriek.
"I don't think there are wolves in this part of Texas, Cassie." I spoke as soothingly as I could. My tone must have penetrated her fear, because she lost that far-off stare and cut her eyes towards me.
"You think I'm crazy." Her voice was flat.
"No,I don't. It's not crazy to be scared of wild animals."
"No," she said bitterly, "not real animals." She gave a gusty sigh. "Something else I need to get over . . . somehow."
I sat quietly, ready to listen if she had anything she was ready to say. Clearly, whatever this was, she needed to get it out and talk about it. But I knew all too well how fear could silence you and imprison that terror deep inside you.
"I was on anti-depressants, you know, after . . . " Cassie sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to say the words. "After my parents died, I mean. I was too wasted to know what happened that night. I was drinking, on pills. My friends called them to come pick me up after a party." she turned to me, her eyes wet and lost. "The only memory I have is of this animal in the road. I think it was after the crash. I think so. I know I was outside the car, there were woods . . . and this beast."
She grabbed me by the arms and stared into my eyes, desperate to be believed. "It was a beast, Abby, I swear. It wasn't like a real wolf or fox. It was more than that. The way it looked at me, it's eyes were, I don't know . . . Alive, like a human. The way it watched me . . ." Her voice trailed off. "My therapist says it's a reflection of guilt. The monster that killed my parents. That doesn't make it less scary. I wake up at night sometimes and I swear it was in the room . . . sitting in the corner while I slept, just breathing. A priest told me it was an evil spirit. But no amount of prayers and candles will make it go away."
Tears slipped from her eyes and she leaned against me tiredly. "I miss them, Abby. We didn't get along and I was a terrible kid, but they were my parents and I miss them. But I can never say those words because it's all my fault. I don't have the right the mourn them the way Adam does."
I was horrified at her words. Had Adam told her that? Had he told his sister she had no right to mourn her own parents? And she believed him. He was her big brother and she looked up to him, of course, she believed. I thought of my own mom. How hard it was to forgive her for being lost and gullible, and for joining a cult to fill that need. How hard it had was to forgive her for being only human. A thought occured to me. The thought of someone whose authority overruled Adam's in her mind. It was too much to ask her if her parents would forgive her, but they would surely have a word or two for her spiteful brother.
"Cassie, deep down, you must know that isn't true. No matter what happened that night, you have the right to grieve. Really, what would your mom say about Adam acting this way?"
A reluctant smile tugged at Cassie's mouth. "Oh man, she would sit him down and give him a lecture about how he is not the center of the universe. She's given him that lecture . . . several times." She stopped as the words sank in. "Wow, I never thought of that. Not even Adam can argue that they would want me to be happy."
I watched the light dawning over Cassie's face as this truth sunk in. She gave me a sudden fierce hug and then collapsed back on the bed, spent from finally admitting such a deep and closely-held fear. If I had expected more heart-to-heart conversation, it was not to be. Cassie, flitterbug that she was, dashed away the tears and then picked up her phone, instantly reabsorbed in the drama on the tiny screen. I let her be, giving her space to gather what peace she could. I knew it would not be as easy as a single conversation to banish what was haunting this troubled girl, and eventually, those demons of hers must be faced.
Chapter 30
The garden was lovely the next morning. The dawning of a new day finished the healing that had started the night before with Cassie's company. I had left her a huddled lump under the blankets, taken a grapevine basket emptied of ancient darning projects, and headed out to the vegetable beds. There was a bounty to be harvested and I was determined to be grateful for it. I would be busy with drying and canning for some days, I thought happily, as I pushed all thoughts of Lena's recycled nutrients from my head. After all, I told myself firmly, everything we consumed had been someone or something at one time.
I started with the heavier things, summer squash and colorful carrots, then picked red and yellow peppers, juicy ripe tomatoes. I laid the bright, fragrant herbs on top so they would not be crushed. Basil, dill and mint tickled my nose and woke me up. My feet traded energy with the soft soil beneath them and just for this moment, all was right with the world.
Mekka poked his nose out of the sage bushes near the shed and then slowly meandered his way over to me. He trotted from bed to bed, busy with his investigations, giving an excited hop when he discovered a cricket under a rotting stick. I was relieved to find my affection for him was unchanged. When he finally bothered to give me a good morning nudge, I was feeling almost neglected. He reared up on the edge of the bed and nudged aside a large squash leaf to show me a zucchini I had missed.
“Thank you,” I told him. I took a deep breath as he reached out with the odd-shaped paws he no longer hid from me to twist it loose. Something no real fox could ever do.
The screen door squeaked behind me and I froze. I could not let Cassie see him! Mekka had no such panic. Quickly twisting into a whirlwind, he sought the anonymity of his dust form. The scream from behind me told me he had not been quick enough.
“Abby, look out!” she shouted.
Don't!” I lunged forward as the rock intended for Mekka whistled past my ear and struck me on the shoulder, pulling a cry from my lips. Mekka paused,mid-spin, and then turned, snarling in Cassie's direction.
“Cassie, no!” I yelled, but the next stone flew true. It stuck the little fox spirit in the temple and his body crumpled to the sandy soil, blood staining his fur.
“Oh, no,” I moaned, reaching for him.
“Abby, don't touch it! It's a demon,” Cassie screamed, her face contorted with fear and disgust.
I turned on her, anger swelled up inside me. Why was everything different labeled evil and unnatural? I understood her past held shadows, but was she was so steeped in her world view that instead of seeing Mekka as a curious, little creature, she saw a demonic entity? What kind of evil help you picked zucchini, for heaven's sake?!
My brows drew together as her actions snapped the thin tether of compassion. At my feet, Mekka shuddered and grew still. That she, a guest on this land, should so break its covenant enraged me. I felt the dark vengeance of the goddess rise inside me.
Cassie's scream changed from panic to fear as the steps beneath her began to shift and buckle. The wind whipped in from the scrubby woods and tore at her hair and skin, ripping at her clothing and pelting her with bits of twigs and debris.
The wind that beat at her curled around me like a cat, like the brush of a fox's tail. It seethed with power, offering me fuel for my anger. I stood, feet planted in the earth of my domain and stared at the killer before me. Her hands were thrown up in a useless effort to shield herself from judgment. She had moved against the spirits of this land and for that she must pay. Fog swirled around me and I saw thick tendrils wrap her hated figure in its embrace. I stepped forward, my heel grinding a sprig of mint into th
e soil. The scent assaulted my nostrils and I flung my head away from the intrusion. For a moment, I heard Cassie's laughter as she handed me a sandwich and felt the warmth of her arm around me as we huddled in the alleyway.
No. She had killed an innocent. She must pay.
I took another step raising my hand, a smile stretching my lips as I saw her crumple. My foot kicked the basket and vegetables rolled before me. A tomato cracked and bled. Distracted, I stared down at the harvest, laid waste. Something tugged at me. This was . . . wrong.
Among the bushes and scrub trees, branches cracked and snapped as something walked this way. The faint roll of thunder became a rattle of bones. Lightning lanced through my veins, a surge of power that made me fall to my knees. I dug my fingers into the soil, crushing vegetables and herbs beneath me. I would not be taken. I would not submit. I had been wrong, so wrong. My soul was too high a price to pay and I would fight to the death for that freedom.
A choking noise came from the porch. My head whipped up at the sound. The mist had become thick and ropy, making tentacles that strained to claim its prey. Cassie's body twitched and jerked as the mist fought to pull her across the porch floor.
I clenched my fists and staggered to my feet. What she had done was horrible, it was . . . My breath caught as I heard the crack of stone on bone again and again. She had been wrong, so wrong, but she had acted in fear, not hate. She had acted to save me and for that, I would save her though my heart was breaking inside me.
Reaching out my hands, I pulled. From the depths of my very soul, I pulled the power to me. Eagerly, the fog left her body and swarmed across mine, lapping at my flesh hungrily as if seeking a way in.
On the porch, Cassie sat up, coughing.
"Run, Cassie!” I cried. “Run upstairs to my room!”
Her terrified eyes took in the macabre sight in front of her. For a moment she wavered as if she would come to my aid, but when the fog began to slip tendrils down my throat and up my nostrils, plugging my ears with thick, moist ropes, she ran. The screen door slammed behind her like a gunshot. It was the last thing I heard before being dragged down into the dust.
***
Fear flooded me as I descended through root and rock. I fought to breathe before realizing belatedly that my breath was unimpaired. The cavern I found myself in was both tall and wide. At one end, was a still pool of water, at the other, a rock shelf covered in thick furs. I watched as the water of the pool began to dance with the blue light of the goddess. Fire flared and I saw the cave walls now flickered with shadows.
Stick figures appeared on the rock and I leaned forward to see . . . dog-like shapes which leaped and cavorted. Now they hunted, pulling down prey as synchronized pack. They feasted. They mated. The colors flickered, ochre and flame. The figures elongated and stood. They danced around a fire circle, warriors and men.
A tall, imposing figure turned its stick head and stared at me then walked along the wall. Turning, I followed its progress. It grew larger and clearer, until it stepped from the rock and stood before me.
Coyote, shaman, warrior, demi-god.
I caught my breath at his beauty. He wore little more than a loin cloth but I felt no fear, no pressure. Dark eyes warmly regarded me as he offered me his hand. Heat swirled in my stomach as I took it. HIs rough strength sent a curl of desire through me. Smiling, he pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. The embrace which had always felt confining, unwanted, was anything but. My bones melted into the heat of his body and he held me as if I were gift and goddess. His mouth bent to mine and at the first touch of his lips, my senses exploded.
What was this . . .but divine?
I felt every nerve in my body and yet I was lifted above, or perhaps subsumed within. All of me was present and alive and the energy of this man, who smelled of hay fresh cut in the sun, was the counter to my own, the other half. I reveled in the way out bodies fit together as he held me against his heated skin. And I felt I could choose this. To be held this way, cherished, to float in the honeyed wine of this love. This was right and good.
I lifted my arms to wrap them around his neck, but my arms encircled only emptiness. The flames gone, the stick figures erased and the cave filled only by the watching blue light.
The emptiness his presence left brought me to my knees. I had just found something to fill that yearning inside and he was gone? Sorrow gripped me and I pressed my cheek on the cool dirt of the cave floor, grieving.
As I lay, the patterns of light shifted and danced before me. Wind sighed through the cave, a benediction. The smell of fall air, bright-tinged with the promise of frost carried the mouth-watering scent of bread, fresh baked, to remind me of what lay above, light, life and sun.
Daughter . . .
The pool of water broke its silence with a ripple and low chuckle, a musical, liquid sound that pulled me from my grief and made me turn my head. A small stream of water poured from the stone wall, splashing into the pool below as the rocks surrounding it sprouted green moss, starred here and there with small, white flowers. Vines crawled across the rock, twining and weaving, circling around itself. Leaves burst from the rough, ropy strands and fat, cerulean buds swelled and bloomed. The light circled me and pulled me to my feet as the crown of flowers was placed on my head.
I heard the drums first, and then the chanting as the women came. They wore crowns of their own, laced with flowers of every shade, and walked with arms looped about each other in sisterhood. Smiling, they circled me and sang the Song, the song of joining, of hearts raised above the mundane to reach esoterical heights. Laughing, they pulled me into the dance. Freedom flowed over me like rain washing me clean.
This, I would choose this instead. I would dance and be free. I would honor the goddess and be one with the universe, needing no earthly reward, needing no mate to hold me. I reached for my shawl to cast it aside and leaped forward into the dancers, the Song full on my lips.
I danced, twisting and turning, frantic to reach that celestial ecstasy, but the rain became fog and thick, choking smoke. I called, but there was no answer.
Gone, all gone.
I fought my way through the cave, one hand on the stone wall, desperately searching for an exit. Stumbling, I fell across something that clattered as I broke my fall. A bare skull stared at me, empty eye socket to terrified eye. Pushing myself away, my hand fell on cloth, a rough tapestry bag woven in blood-red vines.
Horrified, I leaped up and ran through the fog. A high, familiar yip called to me and I lunged forward with a sob, I knew that sound.
Mekka.
How could it be Mekka?
But he was there, as wispy and insubstantial as a wraith, and he burned with a ghostly green light. Yipping again, he turned and headed into the mist. I scrambled to follow, my mind still trapped in that frozen moment of staring eye to eye with Lena's clean-picked corpse, forced to confront my own deeds.
The smoke around me shifted, wreathing me in images both bloody and serene. Nikki, eyes shadowed and hooded. Cassie, laid out on a funeral pall. Tasmyn, hunted by ravens. In the smoke, Felicite, ran from her hunters, to no avail, sacrificed by pious men who would not suffer a witch to live.
I wept for her.
The child-like exterior and love of bright, cheerful things had only been the one side of her. I knew now she had murdered her captor as surely as I had murdered Lena. Yet how could I judge her? A wild animal will fight for its freedom with no thought to morals or law. Were we so different? To be denied the right to walk free under the sun called for measures once scorned as violent or evil, measures which were my birthright when my own survival was at stake.
All this and more clawed at my thoughts through the endless walk with only the pale green of Mekka to guide me. He stopped and waited as I caught up and then brushed against my legs, a faint chill and no more. Then he was gone. Before me loomed a wooden door, with brass knob. Broken and lost, my shaking hand grasped the handle and turned.
Chapter 31
Familiar pine floorboards and the carved bannister of the stairs greeted me. I had emerged back in my house on the landing of the stairs. I fell to my knees in gratitude and shock. I didn't question how this could be, so humbled was I by my return. I sat there for a long moment, panting short, shallow breaths, before forcing myself to get a grip on my emotions.
I had not been hurt, not even threatened. I had been shown what walked these lands and I had been offered a choice. Nothing had been taken from me. I was still myself, whole and intact.
Shakily, I stood, using the stair rail to pull myself to my feet. With a bolt of clarity, I remembered Cassie, her frantic flight into the house and the way the land had turned against her.
I had to get her out!
I may have bought some time, but I wanted Cassie off this land as quickly as possible. My feet pounded as I ran through the house and up the stairs. The door to my room was open and she was no where in sight.
My heart sank. Was I too late? My eyes tracked across the room, noticing all her things were gone. Fear laced through me. Would Cassie disappear the way Lena had?
Swearing, I raced back down the stairs. As I turned to run into the kitchen and brave the uncanny shadows of the cool room once again, I saw movement out on the front porch.
Cassie sat on the steps, her bag clutched to her chest. She turned with a jerk as my footsteps clattered across the wooden porch boards.
“I”m going to wait here for Adam,” she said quickly, holding up a hand to stop me approaching.
I took in her battered state and the look of shock dulling her eyes. “I don't think that is a good idea, Cassie,” I said slowly so as not to alarm her further. "Let's walk over to Tasmyn's and you can wait there.
