The Rabbit And The Raven

by Melissa Eskue Ousley

“How is it your fault? You were sleepwalking.”

  “I was, but I wasn’t,” Abby said, looking at her feet. “I thought if I kept it to myself, it would be better—that it would only hurt you if you knew. But I was wrong. Because of me, Cael got hurt, and things could have been so much worse.”

  David placed his hand under Abby’s chin and lifted her face so he could see her eyes. “Abby—when I found you, you were practically comatose. Those toads were about to feast on you, and there was some sort of shadow surrounding you. How is any of that your fault? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s Tierney,” she said. “He’s been haunting me—my dreams, my head. He’s been trying to seduce me to join him.”

  David felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. So that’s what she’s been hiding. He took Abby’s arm and led her to the far side of the campsite, out of earshot of the others. “And when you say ‘seduce,’ you’re not speaking metaphorically, are you?”

  Abby shook her head. “No. I’m not.”

  David stiffened and let go of her arm. She started to reach for him and he backed away from her.

  “David, I’m so sorry...I should have told you.”

  He gave her a hard look. “When did this start?” he asked. “It was that afternoon, wasn’t it? When you thought you were in the labyrinth.”

  “Yes,” Abby nodded, biting her lip. “I talked to Eulalia about it.” Her eyes were filling with tears, pleading with him, begging him to understand.

  He fought the urge to comfort her or ask why she’d gone to his mother for help instead of coming to him. “Go on.”

  Abby choked back a sob and looked down at the ground again.

  He felt guilty for feeling angry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Tell me what Eulalia said. Okay?”

  She looked up at him. “Eulalia was worried that I was starting to relate to Tierney, like Lucia did. She told me to ask the Southern Oracle to show me something called the Blood Altar.”

  “I haven’t seen anything like that listed on the Cai Terenmare maps,” David said. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, but she thought it would help me see the truth of what he is, so he couldn’t trick me anymore.”

  “Then we’ll go see it together,” David said. He took both of Abby’s hands, and turned them over to kiss each of her wrists. He looked into her eyes. “I will do whatever it takes to break his hold on you.”

  She started crying in earnest. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Can you forgive me?”

  David pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Abby—there is nothing to forgive. Whatever you may have said or done in those dreams, it wasn’t your fault. He was manipulating you.” He caressed her cheek. “You still love me, right?”

  She looked up at him. “With all my heart.”

  “That’s all I need to know.” He kissed her forehead. “Abby, when all this is over, when we win this war and we don’t have to worry about something bad happening to each other—I want to be with you for real.”

  “You are with me for real,” Abby insisted.

  David smiled sadly at her and then pressed his cheek against her forehead. “I know, but here’s the thing. You scared me last night—I saw those toad things and I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach you in time. I thought they were going to kill you. And then, when you didn’t wake up right away, I was afraid you’d been poisoned. It was like the thing with Calder all over again. I know there are no guarantees, even without all these stupid monsters trying to kill us every bloody second, but…I need you to be mine.” David got down on one knee and looked up into her eyes. “Marry me.”

  Abby stared at him wide-eyed, and then bent down and kissed him hard, cupping his face in her hands. “Yes!”

  “Yes?” he asked, just to be sure. “I mean, I know this isn’t the most romantic setting and I don’t even have a ring…”

  “Yes,” she said, kissing him again.

  He kissed her back, feeling a sense of simultaneous relief and elation. Then he stopped, a silly grin plastered on his face. “Are you just kissing me now to shut me up?”

  She nodded and grinned impishly. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  No, I don’t have a problem with that, he thought. After days of feeling distant from her, things finally felt right between them. She was back to her old self. He didn’t want her to ever stop kissing him. “Not in the least.” He pulled her down to sit on his knee.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. When she finally pulled away, she eyed him seriously. “I promise you, David, when this is over, nothing will ever come between us again.”

  “Good,” David said, nudging her to her feet. She got off his knee and he stood up. “But if this turns out to be one of those long, drawn-out wars, please marry me sooner rather than later. I’m not really up for decades of waiting like Cael, you know?”

  “Agreed,” Abby said. Then she frowned.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I wish we could run away together right now. But I know we can’t.”

  David looked at the jungle surrounding them and laughed. “No, I guess not. We have a job to do. And even if we didn’t, I don’t think people would be happy if they were denied a wedding.”

  “You’re right. Our mothers would kill us. But it doesn’t have to be some big thing,” Abby added.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” David chuckled. “Affairs of state are kind of a big deal around here. My coronation was a pretty fancy shindig, remember? I’m a little scared to see what a wedding is like.”

  Abby groaned. “Yeah, me too. Guess we’ll find out when Cael and Eulalia have theirs.”

  “Yep, guess so.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “So, how do I keep you safe tonight? I could hold you close to me like this, and refuse to let you go.”

  “Not if you have to leave with Cael, you can’t.” She looked around and pointed to a vine hanging from a tree. “Tie me to the tree so I don’t go wandering off. That way, if you have to leave, I’ll stay put.”

  David tugged on the vine—it was strong. “That might work, but then what if something attacks us again and you’re stuck there?”

  “Jon and Sol can untie me if you’re not around.” She grinned. “But if you’re still here, then you’ll use your super-cool laser powers to burn through the vine and whisk me to safety, right?”

  “I’m not Superman, you crazy, beautiful girl,” David smiled. “It’s not like I go around shooting laser beams from my eyes, you know.”

  “No, you only fly, shoot blue fire from your hands, and turn into a lion. How silly of me,” Abby quipped. “Look, I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “This is a terrible idea, Abby.”

  “More terrible than me sleepwalking into a mess of those toads again?” she asked.

  He shuddered. “No. I guess you’re right. I’ll get the vines.”

  Chapter Seven

  THE SOUTHERN ORACLE

  With Cael out of commission and Abby in her own restricted state, night watch duties became a bit more complicated.

  “We’ll each take a turn,” David said to Jon and Marisol, “but we won’t have partners to back us up, so don’t be afraid to wake one of us if you need to.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Jon said. “I’ll go first, and Marisol, you take next shift. We’ll save David for last in case something happens and we need him before his turn.”

  “Works for me,” David said. “I could use a little shut-eye after toting Cael all day. He doesn’t look like much, but he’s no lightweight.”

  Marisol laughed and playfully punched David’s arm. “Shut up. He’ll hear you.”

  “I did,” Cael said, and croaked out a dry laugh.

  “You were meant to,” David said. “Just making sure you’re sticking around.”

  “You are not rid of me yet, Solas Beir,” Cael replied.

  “Good,” David smiled, and offered Cael som
e more water. “I promised your betrothed I’d look out for you, and I have no intention of disappointing her.”

  David took the water over to Abby. “Sure about this?”

  “Yes,” she said. She strained against the vines, testing to make sure her bonds were secure. She looked at him and smiled, trying to reassure him. “Good—nice and tight. I’m staying right here tonight.”

  “Okay, then. I’m right here, sleeping next to you.” David sat down beside Abby and caressed her cheek. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

  “You too,” she said. “I love you, David.”

  “And I love you,” he said, and kissed her. He laid his head in her lap and drifted off.

  Abby watched David sleeping, wishing her hands were free so she could hold him, but knowing her restraints were for the best.

  Jon sat slightly away from them, his eyes trained on the forest, his gaze turning to Marisol time and again. “Seems a bit barbaric,” he said to Abby.

  “What?” she asked.

  Jon turned toward Abby. “You, tied up like that. But after last night, I don’t blame you. Or him. If I’d seen those things about to attack Sol, I would’ve lost my mind.”

  “You’re in love with her?”

  Jon stole a glance at his girlfriend, who was sleeping peacefully. He smiled. “I guess I am.”

  For the briefest of moments Abby felt a twinge of regret, but it was quickly overshadowed by both a sense of relief and joy. She wouldn’t have to worry about lingering jealousy between Jon and David, and Jon had finally found someone worthy of him. She’d grown to like Marisol and couldn’t imagine a better match for her best friend. She smiled. “Have you told her yet?”

  He frowned. “No. I keep waiting for the perfect moment, but we’ve been a bit busy.”

  “There is no perfect moment, Jon,” she urged. “Seize the day.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I probably should.”

  “If it helps, she loves you too,” Abby said.

  “How do you know?” Jon asked, his eyebrows raised. “Did she say something?”

  Abby shook her head and grinned. “No. But I see how she looks at you.”

  Jon woke Marisol, gently kissing her forehead.

  “Morning,” she said, stretching sleepily.

  “Not quite yet,” he whispered, settling down beside her. “Just time to trade places. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She kissed Jon’s cheek. “Sleep tight.”

  “Thanks.” He squeezed her hand.

  She stood up to go.

  He sat up. “Wait. Sol?”

  Marisol turned back and knelt down beside him. “Yeah?” she whispered.

  Jon pulled her close and kissed her.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “I…just couldn’t sleep without it,” Jon said. “So, thanks.”

  “Glad I could help,” Marisol smiled, and went to sit on a log where she could see the forest better.

  Should have told her, Jon thought to himself, annoyed that the voice in his head sounded a lot like Abby’s. He peeked over at Abby—she was fast asleep, still sitting with her back against the tree, the vines wound tightly around her, with David resting his head in her lap. Shut up, Abby voice, he thought. I know, okay? So back off.

  Marisol felt like she had been watching the trees forever. Longest night ever, she thought. But at least it was quiet. That was a nice change.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Great, she thought, spoke too soon. She leapt to her feet and whirled toward whatever was moving through the forest, drawing her sword on instinct. Then she froze.

  Someone was there all right. It was her mother.

  As Marisol’s mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing, Esperanza Garcia put her finger to her lips and motioned for Marisol to follow her. Then she turned and walked into the forest, disappearing in the darkness.

  Marisol walked to the edge of the camp, to the end of the firelight’s reach. “Mom?” she called.

  There was no answer. But then, farther into the trees, she could clearly see her mother. Esperanza turned back and gestured once again for Marisol to join her. Hurry, she seemed to say.

  Marisol hesitated. Could be a trick, she thought. You don’t know what’s really out there in the dark, do you? Her inner voice had an authoritarian tone, almost like Cael’s when he was in his teaching role. Yeah, she argued with herself, but it’s my mom. I know it. I can feel it.

  She heard the Cael voice again. Then ask yourself this: how did she get here? Marisol considered that and made a decision. Only one way to find out, she thought, and stepped outside the fire’s circle of light.

  Once she was standing in the darkness, Marisol began to feel doubt. What if it was an illusion? What if her mother weren’t there after all? Then, up ahead, Marisol saw her mother again.

  “¡Andale, mija!” Esperanza hissed, impatiently waving Marisol forward. Yes, that was definitely her mother. Marisol had heard that little catchphrase her whole life. It was usually followed by nine words: “You are going to be late for school! Again!” Not this time though—for Marisol, school was out indefinitely.

  She hurried to catch up. “¿Mami? ¿Es tú?”

  “Sí, mija. Es mí. Oh my darling—you’ve been missing—I am so glad I found you,” Esperanza said, taking both of Marisol’s hands in hers, looking her daughter over, inspecting her for any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”

  Marisol stared at her mother, who was fussing over her like she was five years old again. “No, I’m fine. But Mami, how did you find me?”

  Apparently satisfied that Marisol was in good health, Esperanza met her daughter’s gaze. “Es muy extraño—you will never believe it, mija. I was working late at the museum, and I found a mirror—except it wasn’t a mirror, it was a window. I saw your face. I reached for you, and suddenly, I was here.” Esperanza pulled her daughter into an embrace.

  After all the fighting about the divorce and then their separation when Esperanza moved overseas, it had been a long time since Marisol had hugged her mother. It felt good, like maybe there was hope for mending what had become a very strained and painful relationship.

  Marisol pulled back and saw that her mother was weeping. It surprised her. She tried to remember the last time she had seen her mother cry, and she couldn’t. “Oh, mom—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

  Esperanza wiped her face with the back of her hand. “It’s all right, mija. Everything will be okay now. But we can’t stay here—this is an evil place. Can’t you feel it?”

  Marisol nodded. “Yes, Mami. It’s a very scary forest.”

  “Sí. Muy malo. But the mirror—it must be magical. It brought me to you, so maybe if we go through it again, we can get out,” Esperanza suggested. Taking Marisol’s arm, she tugged her along further into the dark rainforest.

  Marisol looked back toward camp as she trailed behind her mother. “But Mami—I can’t leave. My friends need me.”

  “They do need you, mija,” Esperanza agreed, tightening her grip on Marisol’s arm. “Monroe has been worried sick. She called and told us that Michal was dead, and oh, my daughter…we thought you were too. But I knew, I knew en mi corazón, that it wasn’t true. We must go—everyone will want to see you. They will be so happy.”

  “I know they will, but you will have to tell them I’m all right. My friends here need me more,” Marisol insisted. Her arm was starting to ache where her mother was holding onto her with an iron grip. “I can’t just abandon them.”

  Esperanza stopped abruptly and turned to face her daughter, letting go of Marisol’s arm. “I see. But you can abandon your own mother?”

  Marisol flinched like she had been slapped across the face. Then her shock was swallowed up by the anger she had been fighting to control since her mother left town. Yeah. Just like you abandoned me and Dad for a guy closer to my age than yours, she thought. But she could never say that out loud.

  That was the thing about Esper
anza Garcia. Even if Marisol were to voice her anger, her mother would still get her way. There was no escaping it. In spite of all the anger and hurt, even in spite of those moments when Marisol thought she might truly hate her mother, she still loved her. Some bonds could not be broken.

  “All right, Mom,” she sighed. “Show me this mirror.”

  Jon woke reaching for Marisol. She wasn’t there. Then he remembered it was her turn to be on watch. He sat up.

  She was nowhere in sight. “Sol?” he called.

  No answer. Something was wrong. Jon leapt to his feet. In the soft dirt near the fire he could see scuff marks in front of the log where she’d been sitting, and that she had walked to the edge of the camp. Her tracks were among the scattering of leaves littering the ground. Definitely her boots, judging by the markings on the soles. She had stopped there and looked out into the trees. He could tell by the way her feet had left tracks—the perfect outline of her soles standing side by side, imprinted in the dirt. Then? He could just make out the tracks she’d left as she stepped into the trees.

  “Sol!” he shouted into the darkness.

  No answer.

  Jon turned to David. “David! Wake up!”

  David was in a deep sleep, his head still in Abby’s lap. But Abby opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Marisol’s missing,” Jon explained. “I have to find her. Wake him up, will you?” He grabbed a branch sticking out of the fire and rushed into the darkness, waving his torch, trying to follow Marisol’s trail. “Sol!” he shouted. “Marisol! Answer me!”

  “Mira, mi hija,” Esperanza said. “The magic mirror.”

  Marisol had not been sure what to expect, but she was certain it wasn’t this. In front of her was a perfectly ordinary-looking oval mirror framed in plain dark wood, and inside the glass, she could clearly see the corridor of the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. Across the hallway, hanging on the wall, was a Warhol. This was no dream—the painting was real. One step through the glass, and she could touch it.