The conversation that I’d just overheard made me sure that Kitty was telling the truth about the male voice that she’d heard while in Carlisle’s bathroom. I had two male suspects, but no idea how to figure out which one of them was my culprit.
Adam was elusive. I hadn’t seen him once since his argument with Alyssa.
Liam was a total wild card. For all I knew, he wasn’t even on the Earth Realm. He could be anywhere in the magical universe, I thought, as I moved slowly on shaky legs down the steep, straight stretch of path.
What do I care, really? I thought, as the tears I’d been fighting back started to fill my eyes. I wiped them away so that I could see the rocks beneath my feet, and avoid tripping. If Carlisle writes up a bad record of this place, I won’t have to deal with it anymore. I won’t have to deal with broken mud baths or needy guests or dusty bed frames or smudged meditation-room mirrors. I won’t have to deal with lining up events, meeting people I don’t know, or getting overbooked with massages.
I could just relax.
When I emerged from the woods, I headed for the center.
It was now five, and when I walked into the lobby I saw a long buffet table, stocked with colorful entrees. A handful of beings, including the vampire couple, hovered close to the table, filling plates while chatting. Another handful of beings were scattered around the lobby in various seats, already munching away. A male fairy was sitting on one of the tree’s branches, playing a lute. Another fairy over by the piano joined in his melody, while Doreen the banshee added her soprano voice to the mix.
There was a cluster of three cape-wearing warlocks standing and looking inquisitively at the fountain, while a fourth waved his wand at the water, changing it from pink to blue to green. I spotted Neil over by the buffet, grazing on celery sticks.
I made a beeline for a bottle of wine, and poured some into a glass.
With wine in hand, I hurried out onto the deck, careful to avoid getting roped into any conversations or group singalongs on my way out. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts—and my misery.
I had put everything into the retreat center. Despite my best efforts, I had just heard that I was basically not cut out for life in the Earth Realm.
Was it true?
My mother went to the Lazy S Inn. Maybe it was the best place for me, too. Maybe making my way on the Earth Realm, and even trying to fix it, wasn’t for me.
I looked around the center. My heart and soul was in the building. I thought it was my purpose to offer this space to truth seeking beings. It had felt strange but good to feel that I finally had a purpose. I loved that my Grandmother Greene had charged me with the task. It felt noble.
Now it was like all of that was being ripped away from me.
But maybe I never wanted it to begin with.
Is this what I want? I wondered. It’s responsibility. Trouble. A big pain in the butt.
It feels heavy.
Maybe I should just think about checking in to the Lazy S Inn—just for a short stay.
It could give me a good change of perspective.
Yes, Sarin gave me the creeps, but how bad could she really be? She owned an inn on a fluffy pink cloud.
I felt in my vest pocket until my fingers struck the little business card. I pulled it out.
Then I took out my phone. I’d never called another realm before, but the number was there, so I assumed it would work.
The number was very long—at least twenty digits. I dialed them.
“Hello, this is the Lazy S Inn, Maddy speaking,” said a friendly voice on the other end of the line.
I was speechless. Part of me had not expected to get through.
“I...umm...” I began. I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t even sure that I really wanted to book a room.
“Are you there?” the friendly receptionist said.
At the same time, I heard a voice next to me say, “Excuse me?”
I was stewing in my own little pity party, concentrating on my phone, and I’d failed to notice Neil approaching. “May I sit?” he asked.
I nodded, as I spoke into the phone. “I’ve got to go,” I said quickly. I hung up and pushed my phone into my pocket.
I looked up at Neil. “Um... I’m just kind of trying to have a little moment of quiet out here,” I said. Really, I wanted to tell him to bug off, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being unkind.
“Perfect,” Neil said. “I’ll join you.” He had a bottle of water in his hand. He twisted the cap off as he sat, and took a big slug of it. I sipped my wine and eyed him. I was in the middle of my own drama, and I really didn’t feel like chatting with him, even though he was sort of a guest of honor.
“You okay?” he asked.
I took another sip of my drink. “Fine,” I said miserably.
“Be straight with me,” he said. “I know an athlete in need of some motivation when I see one.” He pulled a bundle of celery sticks out of his track suit pocket, and bit into one.
“I’m no athlete,” I mumbled.
He held out a celery stick to me like it was a cigarette. I wasn’t feeling too into eating it, seeing as it’d been in his pocket, so I shook my head and held up a hand. “No thanks,” I said.
He shrugged.
The deck was empty, except for us. The wicker chairs we were in were positioned under a heater, and the warmth pouring down over us felt nice, seeing as the sun was setting and the temperatures were dropping fast. Neil looked out toward the mountain peaks in the distance, and hooked one of his massive legs over the other at the knee. He polished off the celery stick, tucked the rest back in his pocket, and then folded his hands together and placed them on top of his knee.
“Talk to me, girlfriend,” he said, turning to face me. “You look like a mess. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
I wiped my eyes in case there were any stray tears lingering. Did I really look that bad? I thought I’d wiped all my tears away. “Ugh,” I said, “I don't really know where to start.”
“Start anywhere,” Neil said. “This is going to help, I promise.”
I swallowed. The knot was still in my throat. I didn’t know Neil well. Usually, I don't like talking to people I don’t know well about the deep things I feel. But since Neil seemed intent on listening, I decided to go for it.
“Okay,” I said. “I just found out that my mom stayed at the Lazy S Inn for years. She abandoned me, to go there. And Sarin thinks I’m just like her.”
“How so?” Neil asked.
“She said I’m not meant to live the life I’m living. She thinks I’m too much of a dreamer... too sensitive... to handle it when things get hard.”
“And is that what you think?” he asked.
I felt the lump in my throat get bigger. “Yeah,” I admitted. “I’ve always felt like that—like if I could just escape, I would. Now it seems like I actually have the chance.” I looked down at my phone. “I could go live on Cloud 9—or at least stay there for a long time.”
I fell silent. My shoulders were stooped. I felt so defeated.
Neil was quiet, as if waiting for me to go on. I did.
“It would be nice...” I said. “Staying at the Lazy S. Like a vacation. Or even a permanent vacation. It would be an escape—I’d finally feel at peace.”
I could feel his eyes on me. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Is that what you want, Marley? Peace?”
I nodded.
He was silent.
I wanted him to say something, but he did not. Finally, I looked up at him. He was looking at me with so much kindness.
“What about all of this?” he asked. I knew that he meant the center. “You told me that it was your task—to offer thirsty souls a place to finally drink. A fountain of truth. What about all that?”
I averted my gaze and shrugged. “What about it?” I said. “Like Sarin said, I’m just not cut out for it. I guess someone else will have to do it.”
“Someone stronger,” Neil said, with a subtle nod
.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess so. Sarin said that me running this center was like Sisyphus, pushing a boulder up a hill. Each time he neared the top, the boulder rolled away from him, back down to the very bottom. That’s seriously what it feels like, running this place. I don’t think I’m tough enough to handle it. It’s too hard... this boulder is just too heavy.”
I don’t know if I’d ever felt so miserable. I hated the thought of letting my grandmother down. How was I going to tell Skili that I was going to give up?
I looked out over the deck. The little heating lamps were burning bright. Through the glass French doors, I could see that the lobby was filling with even more , mingling and connecting over plates of food and drinks.
“Have you ever met Sisyphus?” Neil asked.
I couldn’t help but smirk a little, despite my misery. “Of course not,” I said. “He’s a guy in a myth. Even if he was a real being at one time, I doubt he’s still alive.”
“Oh, he’s alive,” Neil said casually.
I raised a brow. “Seriously?” I guess at this point in my journey with magic, I should have stopped being surprised so easily, but I couldn’t help it. “How do you know?” I asked.
“Because,” Neil said. “I know him. He lives in the Spirit Realm. Lots of us live there—beings from myths, archetypes, fictional characters of all kinds. Medusa, Zeus, Pegasus, Apollo... they all reside in the Spirit Realm.”
“Hold up,” I said, sitting up a little bit straighter. “So you’re saying that you know Sisyphus?”
Neil nodded. “Oh yeah,” he said. “He’s a great guy, too. You think I’ve got guns?” I flexed his bicep. “You should see Sisyphus. The guy is strong. I mean, you push a boulder up a hill all day, and that’s what happens—you get jacked.”
“I guess I never thought about that,” I said.
Neil nodded. “He’s at it all the time. He’s developed an impressive following, too. You should see them all, grunting and groaning as they roll their boulders up that hill. I join in now and then. The best workouts are on Wednesdays at 6 a.m., because that’s when we do sprints.”
“Sprints? While pushing the boulder?”
“Oh yeah, baby,” he said with a grin. “It’s almost impossible, but you feel so good once you’ve done a few—it’s exhilarating. I’m telling you. It’s usually the best part of my week.”
“So you’re saying that this Sisyphus guy actually likes pushing the boulder up the hill?” I was having trouble believing this.
“Sure,” Neil said. “At first, he considered it a punishment. The rock was just too heavy... too bulky, too awkward to roll. It frustrated him when it rolled to the bottom and he had to start all over. But then—there was a shift.”
“A shift...” I murmured.
What Neil was saying resonated with me, and I could tell he knew it. He was giving me time to process what he was saying.
After a beat he said softly, “Yes, Marley. An internal shift. He decided to dig his feet in, push with all his might, and embrace the task ahead of him. He decided to not only embrace it, but to enjoy it, too. The time he was spending pushing that boulder around was no longer about the boulder. He changed his goal, and that took away any sense of frustration or anger that he had before, about the futility of his task—and that was the shift.”
I tried to understand, but I had trouble. “I don’t really get it,” I admitted. “If it wasn’t about getting the boulder to the top of this hill anymore, then what was it about? What was his new goal?”
“His internal shift was a change of purpose,” Neil said slowly. “He replaced his old purpose—getting the boulder to the top of the hill—with a new one. The new purpose was to get stronger. And you know what? Pushing that boulder around day after day was the perfect way for him to get stronger. He was happy, knowing that all of his actions aligned with his purpose. Nothing was futile anymore, you see? And now, he’s one of the most relaxed, upbeat, positive guys I know—not to mention that he’s the strongest.”
I bit my lip as I considered Neil’s words.
Could it be that I was seeing the task ahead, of running the center, all wrong? Could it be that I was in need of an internal shift, just like this Sisyphus?
The task that my gran had charged me with felt monumental. Heavy. Awkward. But maybe that’s just what I needed, in order to get stronger. Maybe she even knew that, and she gave me the task to make me stronger.
But was I capable?
I felt myself frown. Evidently, Neil caught on to my worry. “It’s not easy,” he said. “Lifting heavy. You’ve got to put yourself in situations you’d rather avoid—or escape from. But when you embrace the discomfort, challenges that feel heavy can actually be kind of fun. You start to think ‘the harder the better’.”
He stood. “I’ll leave you alone now,” he said. “I know you have a lot on your mind.”
He left, but his words continued to ring through my mind.
Challenges that feel heavy can actually be fun.
I pulled my phone from my pocket again. The phone number to the Lazy S Inn was right there on the screen, listed under my recent calls.
It would be so easy to tap it, dial again, and make a booking.
But with Neil the Strongman’s words in my mind, I decided not to.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and stood. I knew what I had to do next. I had to find out more about my mother. If I was going to make a choice about whether to give up and go stay in the Spirit Realm or not, it would help to know why my mother chose to go. I knew just how to find out, too. I had to talk to Skili. I’d always sensed that Skili had more to share about my mother, but I was never brave enough to ask her. It made me too uncomfortable to think about my past.
Now I had to face it.
It wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe that was okay. I walked with my half-full wine glass back to the lobby. I moved quickly through the little knots of beings, deposited my glass in a bin, and headed for the doors.
“Skili?” I mentally transmitted. “Are you around? I’d like to talk.”
“I’m in the cave,” she said curtly, and then I felt our communication get cut off.
I exited the lobby, and stepped out into the chilly evening air, and headed for the woods. The hike up to the cave that Skili was in was going to take several hours. If I wanted to get there before dark, I had to move quickly.
Chapter Seventeen
I used a Light Footed spell to help me climb up the winding mountainside trail easily and quickly. It was sunset by the time I reached the dark hole amongst the rocks that was the cave’s entrance. I slipped through the hole, careful not to scrape my knees or elbows as I went. It was a narrow opening, and once I passed through, the daylight outside was severely restricted. Except for a pale gray pool of light on the earth floor, the cave was pitch black.
“Skili?” I transmitted.
I heard a soft flapping sound, and then my snow white owl friend landed in the pool of gray light.
I slid my back down one dry, stoney wall, until I was sitting cross-legged, facing her. The faint, pale sunlight reflected off of her golden eyes.
“Yes, Marley,” she said sternly.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“I know.” She adjusted her wings.
I was afraid to start. I hated the thought of getting upset, which always seemed to happen when my childhood memories came up. I swallowed.
“Out with it,” she said sternly.
“Alright,” I said hesitantly. I tried to gather myself. It wasn’t happening. I decided I had to jump in anyways. With a quivery voice I said, “I want to know about Mom’s stay in the Spirit Realm. You must have known about it—Sarin said that Gran took Mom there, when Mom was just a child.”
She nodded.
“You’ve been hiding it from me.”
“I couldn’t even if I tried,” she said.
I wasn’t going to let her get away with that. I shook my head. “Don’t sa
y that,” I told her. “You are. I know you are. We’ve been dealing with Sarin all week, and you never mentioned that Gran Catori stayed there, or that Mom did. I need to know about this, Skili. I need to know the truth. Maybe it will help me make my own decision about what’s going to be good for me, for my future.”
She narrowed her golden eyes. “I am your familiar,” she said. “I’m an extension of you—which is why I can’t hide anything from you. You’re hiding it from yourself.”
“Yes, you’re my familiar,” I said. “But you also have Gran’s essence within you. You have her soul. You told me so yourself.”
“So what does that mean?” she asked.
She wasn’t going to do my work for me. I thought it through. “You’re saying that I have some of Gran’s essence in me,” I said.
She nodded. “Very much so,” she said. “She was a very powerful witch, Catori Greene.”
I was quiet.
Skili stared me down. “You had a vision of your gran because she lives on in you, Marley. You have her fire. Her will power. Her strength. Her ability to heal.”
“So what is it that I’m hiding from myself?” I asked.
“Only you can answer,” she told me.
I felt confused. I furrowed my brow. “Skili, I’m afraid to talk to you about this.”
“I know,” Skili said. “I am glad that you are, child.”
“What’s your history with Sarin?”
“I think you know,” Skili said,
“You stayed with her, at the Lazy S, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Too long,” Skili said. “For most of my adult life, I was a regular customer for Sarin. I booked stays with her whenever life got hard. I brought your mother with me, when she was young.”
“So you were like me... you were sensitive.”
“Yes. I didn’t like conflict. I didn’t like tension. It was, at times, easier to dissociate—to escape.”
“Would you go there for a long time?” I asked.
“Sometimes just a night or two, to recenter myself. But sometimes, I stayed for much longer.”
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