by Tia Louise
“Any news for me?” Doris and Jim are sitting at the small table finishing breakfast when I pull open the metal screen door.
“Sit down and eat,” Doris is on her feet pulling a plate from her cabinet. “You need your strength.”
“Did you give me this jacket?”
Her frown tightens as I hold out an arm. “I guessed it was your size. Looks good on you.”
“Thanks. You have to stop giving me gifts like this. They’re too expensive.”
“You planning to run around naked this winter?”
“Don’t do that, bro.” Jim’s expression is serious. “You’ll get arrested.”
“I hope I’ll be gone before winter sets in.” I’m standing in the kitchen watching them move.
“Going to Mercy? I knew you would.” He nods, taking his last bite of toast. “Oh, I got that intel you wanted. Sally’s cousin said a meteorite or something formed a rift near where the cabins meet the creek. It’s about impossible to find, from what he said. In fact, he said he’s never seen it.”
My chest tightens. “Mind if I borrow your truck?” I don’t wait for an answer. I’m already out the door.
“Put some gas in it, dude!” Jim’s shouting behind me, but I’m in the cab, pulling down the sun visor. Keys drop in my lap, and I ram them in the ignition. I’d rather be doing this in my panther form, but I have to be able to communicate. Also, the last thing I need is to be naked in the underworld.
It’s a grey day, and rain threatens in the sky. The temperature is fifty degrees, but the wind and gloom make it feel colder. Pressure builds in my head, pressing against my temples as I follow an enormous Lincoln Towncar down the narrow, two-lane road.
“Who drives this slow outside of town?” I growl, fighting the urge to lay on Jim’s horn. Every second feels like an eternity.
Finally, the old man ahead of me turns off onto a side street — after coming to a complete stop in front of me. I floor it, and he shakes a fist out his window. Ignoring that, I round the curve, pulling up at the guard shack at the lake park entrance.
Another five, and I’m circling to the east, headed out past the cabins to where the woods begin and civilization ends. A few cars are parked near the small bungalows. I drive as far away from them as possible and park near a large dumpster. Keys in the visor, I charge into the damp forest.
Running, I sweep my eyes over every inch of the terrain. Rolling hills covered in leaves is all I see. I start out at a jog, but as the trees grow thicker together and my path leads further from the creek, I slow my pace and double back. At one point, I come to a complete halt, listening. The faint noise of running water, an occasional bark of a squirrel, a noise like the tapping on wood, which I soon identify as a bird, are the only sounds I hear.
If only I could scent the air. For a moment I entertain the thought of stripping, hiding these clothes in a bush while I scour the area in my panther form. I’m desperate to find her. I have to find that rift.
Dropping to a squat, I rub my face with my hands. Mercy… I’m searching for you. My Mercy — can you hear me? I’m not convinced my thoughts travel through the barrier between our worlds, but I still try. If they do go through, I hope they give her hope.
Waiting, I close my eyes and listen. Water, bird, squirrel. Something new… A squeal of laughter from far away on the lake. Pushing off the ground, I walk slowly back the way I came.
My boots shuffle through the bright yellow leaves covering the ground. Their shushing sound joins the peaceful, earthly noises of the forest. Internally, I’m thinking of a new search in the library — maps of the area around Nightmoon Cabins.
I’m frustrated and angry and almost to the clearing where I left Jim’s truck when I stop. A wave of dread shadowed across my heart. It disappeared as fast as it appeared, but I recognize it. Spinning around, I return to the woods, looking all around frantically. Up, down, everywhere. I strain my eyes, but all I see is nothing.
Everywhere I look is brown trees, yellow leaves, dark green scrub. “Where are you?” I growl, turning again toward the parking lot. I wait several long moments, but I can’t find it. “Dammit!”
Again, my pace is slow, and just as I’m reaching the clearing another sensation of doom passes over me. I freeze in place, looking side to side. The feeling is gone, but this time I don’t run.
I take one backwards step… Nothing.
I take another… Nothing.
One more, and I double over at the waist. The sensation of evil hits me so hard I lose my breath. I stagger back, and it’s gone. My eyes squeeze shut as I instinctively place my hand on my stomach where the pain had been the most intense.
I can’t see it, but I know it’s in front of me. It’s a narrow ribbon of dread like steam rising from an invisible vent in the earth’s surface. Stretching out my hand, I don’t feel it. The air is still, appearing the same as everything around me. I have to step into the blast to find it.
With a deep breath, I move forward, every muscle bracing against the onslaught. A foot forward, and my breath strangles in my throat. My jaw clenches, and I groan against the ripples of pain. My eyes are squeezed shut, but I force them open. Looking to my left, I see it. A thin black line like a rip in the air waits beside me. One breath forward or backward, and it disappears as a line in a tree trunk or the flicker of a shadow in the corner of my eye. Staying carefully in the steaming waves of despair, I move to the break. It’s close.
Two more steps, and I’m plunged into darkness.
The ground under my boots has changed. Leaves are replaced with damp rock. I’m on a path, walking through a tunnel, but ahead I see the faintest glow of light. The sensation of doom has eased, and I decide it must be a defensive barrier, a way to keep intruders out.
Keep going, I think. I have to keep going for Mercy. Fixing my eyes on the glowing grey light I put one foot carefully in front of the other to avoid slipping. Water trickles down the walls, and a strange rushing sound comes from somewhere miles over my head. My arms hang at my sides, fists ready to fight if I’m attacked, but I’m alone here. The cave seems empty, forgotten.
Finally, I reach the end. I’m standing at the opening facing an eerie forest of gnarled, black trees in muted grey light. An unearthly glow illuminates the place, but it isn’t yellow or warm like the sun. It’s like smoke without a fire. It’s black and white, cold and dead.
Mercy shines like a beacon in my memory. I don’t know where I’m going, but I walk on, figuring I’ll encounter something if I just keep moving. A screech to my right, snaps me to attention, but only a slick, black skink crawls quickly away from me.
The path continues on, and I hear the sound of trickling water. Small flowers are scattered among the trees the closer I get to it. They grow tall on green stalks and are shaped like stars. The white petals have pink lines down the center, and I recognize them as asphodel.
The river is in front of me. I’m on the very edge, and the lapping of the currents against small rocks is an enticing sound. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’m overwhelmed with thirst. All the running in the forest back and forth, the searching followed by the bursts of pain have my throat aching.
Kneeling down, I scoop a handful of water and bring it to my lips. As soon as it touches my tongue, I exhale a sigh of relief. Another handful, and my mind begins to relax. Images sway around me, and the torment of my mission fades. Sitting on the bank of the river, I lose the reason I came to this gloomy place. It slips from my mind like a ribbon of silk. What am I doing here?
My limbs are heavy, and my eyes start to close. I struggle against the sensations pulling me down, but I don’t remember why I’m struggling. It seems like I lost something. I’m trying to find it. Only, I can’t remember what it is.
A figure appears across the lake. It’s a man dressed in black armor and a long black cape. He’s watching me with a sinister grin, and a chill moves through my insides. His hair shines white down his back like the ghostly light. Then I realize
, he is the light. This seems important, but I don’t know why. I don’t know why this feeling of dread at the sight of him is familiar. I try to find the answer, but I’m so heavy. I’m not afraid of you…
It’s my last thought before I drift into unconsciousness.
* * *
Mercy
Hayden’s library is a blend of dark brown, smoky grey, and forest green. The gloom still glows through the windows, but in this room, green globes are perched atop twisted brass lampstands. Enormous bookcases stretch for what seems like miles toward the roof, and they’re decorated with carvings of monsters and symbols of assorted images I don’t understand.
When I enter, he’s sitting on a brown leather sofa holding a green hardcover book. It reminds me of a church hymnal, and he sets it aside.
“How are you feeling today?” Rising, he crosses to me. He’s still wearing the leather body armor. I notice it has a series of buckles along his left shoulder. The cape is gone as is his crown.
“Trapped.”
His smile fades, and I go to a small table that holds a box shaped like a trunk. A deck of cards is also on the table beside one of the green lamps.
“If you’re looking for something to do, I had a pottery studio built for you. You could make something.”
“Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Not at all. I want you to have all the things you enjoy here.” He’s standing beside me now, tall as Koa. I scowl up at him.
“My art was my dream. It was how I was going to live my life on the coast, in the sunlight.” My eyes flash as I defy him. “Now it doesn’t matter.”
He waves a hand and goes to what looks like a fireplace. “There’s always an adjustment period following a change.” I watch as he holds his hands out, as if warming them by an invisible fire. Blue flames appear, dancing in the black hole, and he turns to me and smiles. “In any case, you know it’s there when you’re ready.”
My arms are bare. Cold covers them like a second skin, and I’m sure the flames are drawing the heat from the air. I shiver, and he returns to me.
“Here.” He lifts a filmy shawl from the back of a chair and wraps it around my shoulders. “It’s too soon, but I look forward to the return of that old spark. I miss your humor, my love. My little cabbage.”
My chest clenches, but I fight my tears. I have to hold on to hope. Koa will find a way. I won’t be trapped in this cold, dark prison forever. I will get back to my life and my dreams. I will find a way back to the sun.
Helpers
Koa
The trickle of water is in my ears. I’m cold, and I’m lying on a hard surface. Blinking my eyes, I sit up and look around, confused. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. The light is dimmer than it was before, but I can see I’m in a cave. I’m leaning against the wall, and I seem to be alone.
With considerable effort, I recall the man by the lake watching me. Again, a wave of dread moves across my stomach as I recall his face, his menacing expression. He was familiar — the identity so close, I can almost place him. Before I can do that, however, I have to remember why I’m here.
Clearly, I’m in a dark underworld. I’m cut off from the sun, but I’m not dead. Looking at my hands, I turn them over and stare at the backs of them. Making fists feels familiar. I’m a fighter. I can fight my way out of here, only I don’t know who to fight.
A scratchy hiss cuts through the silence, causing me to lift an elbow in defense. “Why have you come here, panther?” It asks me.
Straining my eyes in the darkness, I long to shift so I can see using my cat eyes. “Who are you?” My voice is strong and clear.
The stranger coughs and a shuffling noise above my head focuses my attention.
“Strong one, you are,” it rasps. “Haven’t heard a note that pure in centuries.”
“Where am I?” I don’t have time for games. I might not remember what brought me here, but my sense of urgency remains strong.
“Haven’t you figured that out for yourself?” More shuffling in the dark. “You’re in the underworld. Only, you ain’t dead yet.” A wicked cackle makes my skin crawl.
“I’m here for a reason,” I insist.
“A reason?” The voice is skeptical. “And what might that be?”
Forcing my mind to think, I encounter only mist. It’s as though I’ve taken a strong sedative, and I can’t shake off the hangover. “I can’t seem to remember—”
“Ahh, you drank from the Lethe. That’s good. Without your memories, you’ll adapt faster to your life here.”
“No,” shaking my head, I try again. “I’m not staying here. I’m here for something important. Something I lost…”
“Death is as important as life. You’re here now, panther, and here you’ll stay. No one leaves the underworld.”
Rubbing my face with both hands, I fight the growl rising in my chest. Frustration twists me hard, and I want to fight. My fists are back. I might not remember the details, but I know this is wrong. I’m not here to stay. I’m here to save something then I’m getting the fuck out.
“Who are you?” I demand of the voice.
“No one of consequence.” More scratching noises above my head. “I’m here to keep you company.”
The voice is closer, but it seems to also be growing smaller. I begin to suspect I’m talking to a mouse or some other small creature. “Are you an animal?”
“No, panther. I’m not like you.” It’s near me now, on the wall of the cave, and I move away from it.
“What is your form? Tell me what sort of creature you are.”
“Shh…” The air seems to have closed in on me. Ribbons of cold filter down inside my skull. “Calm. Don’t vex yourself.”
“Why are you here with me? What is your name?”
“Some call me Hypnos, but I prefer Poppy.” The voice is no longer raspy. It’s smooth, a soothing monotone. “Relax. Listen to the water as it ripples past us. It’s like the purr of a cat. The sound you make in utter contentment.”
My eyes are heavier with each word. I’m unable to fight him off, but I don’t understand. “I’m not tired. I only just awoke.”
“You’ve had a long journey, traveler. Rest your weary head. Nothing will happen until you awake again.”
It’s a trick. I have to fight this spell. He’s bewitching me, and I have to fight against him. Only it’s no use. Even as I think the words, I feel my brain shutting down. The heaviness is back, and again, I can’t fight it.
“Who told you to keep me company?” It’s the last question I utter before the mist surrounds me, stealing my consciousness.
* * *
Mercy
Hayden has invited me to go for a walk with him. We’re out of the castle on a wide path strolling through a forest of black, grey, and sepia. Somewhere far above my head, I hear the rushing of water.
Beside me, he’s in his black armor. The cape is back as is the crown. I’m wearing a different chiffon dress, spring green this time. It’s long and flowing to compliment his attire. My hair hangs in dark tendrils down my back.
“You’re so beautiful.” He cocks his head to the side with a smile. “We go so well together here.”
“I would never wear something like this.” How easily I slip back into fighting him.
“You’re also not wearing your crown.” The slightest hint of disappointment is in his voice.
I confess, I wondered if my feelings for him would change when I was in his world. If seeing him as a ruler would make him annoy me less. I wondered if I might gradually fall for his attractive face and elegant manner.
Not happening.
“Tell me about my aunts,” I say instead. “The others you took.”
A grin touches his lips. “Haven’t we had this conversation before?”
“Yes, but now that I’m here, I’m want more details. How they lived with you, what they did.”
My statement seems to please him. “Which one are you interested in?”
&
nbsp; “Both of them. Start at the beginning.” Pushing my hair back, I count on my fingers. “I’m number three, which means two went before me. Cora was first?”
A slow inhale, and he nods. “Cora was my favorite so far, although I’ve told you that already.”
“She wanted to be here with you. She fell in love with you.”
“Yes,” he sighs, and I glance up at him. His head is bowed, and true grief flickers in his eyes before disappearing. “When she first arrived, she wasn’t happy with the arrangement. However, it only took a week before she changed her mind.”
“A week?” I find that hard to believe. “Had you already been visiting her like you did with me?”
“We had no Thursday night dinners, if that’s what you mean.”
“Still, you built the house for her.” I’m thinking back to what Koa told me. “Why did you do it?”
“The house wasn’t for her. She was worried about leaving her family.”
“You didn’t care about them?”
“I only cared for her happiness.” He stops and looks away from me. “It was her father who killed my wife. I would never forgive him for it.”
“But you built a mansion for him to live in. A luxurious, palatial mansion.”
“I built it for her.” His tone is sharp, as if he’s becoming agitated. “She wouldn’t be happy unless she knew they were safe and cared for. Your family had nothing, still has nothing, but you can thank Cora for that house and the servants and the cars and whatever the hell else they wanted.”
Thank you, Cora, I say internally, not that I wanted any of it. “Why do you say they? I lived there, too.”
“I wanted you to have those things.” The warmth in his voice unsettles me.
“You never answered my question,” I resume walking. “If there were no Thursday night dinners, how did you see her before?”
“We would meet in the woods.”
