A smirk plays at her lips. “You did, though. You were a Seer before you became Ankou. Rose was a seer. Wasn’t she?”
I nod. “Kind of.”
“When you joined with that other spirit, you gained power over the water, which you would not otherwise have, being an air elemental normally.”
My whole body tenses. “I really don’t care if I already was or not. The Universe brought me here to help, and I did my part. I want to go back now. I have a daughter to return to. I don’t need to be here anymore.”
Eleanor’s serene and almost happy face starts to fade to something confused...concerned, perhaps. Her brow furrows deeply and her lips purse. Finally she lets out a small gasp and snaps her hand away from my face. Quickly, she stands, and then she’s smiling again, but it’s too affected to be sincere.
“What is it?” I ask.
Eleanor looks to William with uncertainty clear on her face.
I grab her hand, forcing her attention back to me. “Whatever it is, Eleanor, you have to tell me.”
“You can’t go back,” she says. “There is nothing to go back to. That is why you are here now.”
“I have Anna—that is what I have to go back to.”
“No, dear Cordovae. You cannot return. Rose’s body is gone.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. “I’m...dead? That can’t be. I was running and then I was here.”
“This is what I’m seeing,” she says gently.
I lean in close to her face. “You’re seeing wrong, then.”
Her face goes blank. “I’m never wrong.”
I don’t even care anymore. There has to be another way. There has to be. “I need to get back there. I don’t care how.”
I don’t even care if it makes me as bad as the Morts.
“Abigail was your ancestor,” Eleanor explains, “and she was murdered moments before you arrived by a townsman who believed her a witch. When he saw what he did, he panicked and ran from the town, later to meet his own brutal finality—mauled and eaten by a coterie of Cruor. But one good thing did come of Abigail’s death. It gave your spirit a doorway back in time.”
I swallow hard, trying to fight the tears stinging my eyes. I can barely choke out the words, “I don’t want a way back in time, I want the way back home.”
“Don’t you see?” Eleanor looks at me with big, dark eyes. “This is the only way for you to continue on in life. Without this, you have no life at all. Once the lineage ends, the only way for a Forever Girl’s spirit to continue is to be reincarnated back in time. Something that otherwise is not even possible. You are lucky that—”
“I’ll find a way back,” I say angrily, but even I don’t believe myself.
“If you would just listen—”
I am on my feet now, though I hardly remember standing.
Eleanor reaches up and puts her hand calmly on my shoulder. “You don’t need to go back, Cordovae. There’s nothing left there for you.” Her gaze is so intense it stops me in my tracks. “Cordovae...Anna died before you arrived in Salem.”
April 1692
Anna and I both died before I arrived in Salem.
The conversation echoes dully in my mind. I can’t go back. I can’t save Anna. It’s too late.
“You’re lying,” I say, half hopeful, half angry, and mostly numb from shock. “You just want me to stop trying to return. No one ever cared about me leaving here!”
Jessup grabs my shoulder firmly, and before I can resist, warmth spreads up my neck and into my skull, and a vision melts into my memory. Pa pressing a pillow over Anna’s small body. Her legs kicking. Her arms flailing. Then, she’s still. Pain stabs through my chest, and I can hardly breathe. I’m dying with her. My entire soul is being ripped in two. My legs are falling from beneath me, but Jessup holds me up. I try to pull away from the vision, but Jessup has strength that goes beyond that of the physical world. I’m stuck here to suffer these horrible visions.
“Don’t do this,” I whisper to him, but he doesn’t stop.
There’s a blur of things I remember. The pick-up truck, the forest, running. And then, there’s a jolt. This time it’s not the jolt that sent me flying to Salem. This time, it’s the jolt of a bullet pelting into my stomach. Another jolt, into my heart. Footsteps. Loud. Another jolt, into my skull.
Pa killed me.
Killed us.
And now I know why—now I know the Mort spirit could not risk any evidence of what he had done, that he couldn’t risk his host body being caught and hauled away to jail, trapped in a cell. He had to destroy the evidence. He killed Anna so no one would ever see the resemblance, and he killed me so that he could say I had just run off.
Why didn’t he just let me run off, then? I was going to anyway.
Jessup plucks the thoughts right from my brain. “Even Morts have their obsessions. You were his. If he couldn’t have you, no one could. Not even Anna.”
I’m trembling with equal parts of disgust and anger. It’s more than I ever wanted to know, and it destroys the little hope I had left.
Jessup releases me, then stares at me apologetically. “I had to, Cordovae, or you would never move on from that life.”
I bite back my tears and stare him angrily in the face. “I still want to go back. I should be dead. I might as well be.”
“It’s fine,” Jessup says. “All is not lost.”
I turn my fiercest glare toward him, my whole body shaking. “You are wrong, Jessup. If I’ve lost Anna, I’ve lost all purpose in life. I’ve lost everything.”
William eases me back into my seat, and I don’t resist. Eleanor reclaims her place at my side and wraps her warm around my shoulder, her other hand pressed to my arm to give me a gentle squeeze.
“No, Jessup’s right,” she says. “There is good that has come of this.”
I feel like I’m going to vomit. Tears blur my vision and my head pounds. I wish I would just lose consciousness.
“Cord, please, listen to us! Anna is still with you!”
My trembles turn to tremors. I can’t control my body right now. I can’t handle their platitudes. Of course Anna is still ‘with me’. She will always be in my heart. But that’s not the same. That’s not enough.
“Look,” Eleanor says pressingly. She grabs my chin and lifts my face, then points to Tess. “Anna is still with you.”
April 1692
Tess is Anna?
I repeat my thought, aloud this time. Then: “How?”
Jessup’s whole demeanor relaxes. “You brought her with you.”
“No,” I say, defeated. They can’t help me after all. They’re supposed to know everything, have all my answers, and yet they don’t. “You’re confused. Anna was just a baby when I left.”
I turn, intending to leave, but Jessup’s gentle touch on my arm stops me in my tracks. There’s a part of me, deep down, that wants to believe him. Because if it’s true, Anna is alive, even if it’s through Tess.
“Please,” Jessup pleads softly. “Just listen. If you want to leave after that, you can leave. If you still want to return to that time, we’ll help you, somehow. But once you hear what I have to say, you won’t want to go back.”
I chew at my lip, slide my attention to him slowly. “I’m listening.”
“You see, Forever Girls can only reincarnate to one person at a time. Cordovae was with you, but your daughter was still her descendent, and therefore a Seer as well.”
“But only Forever Girls can reincarnate,” I say defensively, “and you said that Anna and I both died. How could Anna be here if she died, too, if Cordovae’s spirit could only be with one of us?”
Eleanor cuts in before Jessup can respond. “That’s what Jessup is trying to tell you,” she says. “Your spirit—Cordovae—came back here because you could no longer go forward, but your love also brought Anna with you, without you realizing it. The Universe knew Anna as an infant would not be safe here, where you were needed, so they placed her in another lif
e years before your own. They could not give her to you as a daughter, but they gave her to you as an ally and a friend.”
In the far corner of the room, Tess crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Every so often, she shakes her head; I can see her almost literally biting her tongue. A part of me wants to tell them to stop talking, stop upsetting her, but I need to know more. Need to know if this is all true.
I hadn’t noticed Jessup leave the room, but now he is standing beside me with a glass of water. I take it only to be polite, but holding it makes me realize how dry my mouth has gone. I take a tentative sip, unsure my stomach can keep anything down.
“Anna was reincarnated as Tess,” Jessup continues. “A five-year-old girl who had died in her sleep due to complications from cholera. But when Tess arrived, with no memories of her own, she was unable to communicate. Her family ignored her. She taught herself how to speak and care for herself, and when she was ten, her guardian was instructed to call for her. After training, the Oracle united her with William. She’s been with him for seven years—and then you showed up.”
I want so badly to believe this. To hold Tess—my Anna—in a hug that lasts forever. Then I want to wrap my arms around William’s neck and press my lips to his cheek and thank him for looking after my little girl. I also want to find the family that had her before and hurt them—badly—for ignoring her.
William’s expression seems thoughtful. He steps in closer. “Is this why Tess doesn’t have memories from her life before? We thought she had amnesia before arriving and that was why she couldn’t remember.”
Jessup and Eleanor nod in unison.
It’s a beautiful story. A lovely idea. But I can see that Tess has as many doubts as I do. Her agitation is growing, and I know she’s about to burst. No one seems to notice her but me, until she plows across the room and pokes Jessup in the chest like he’s an annoying little brother who has been pestering her for hours.
“Bullshit!” she screams. “Sorry, Cord, but this can’t be true! Think about it! How could you have fragments from your life as Rose if Rose died before you came here, if you are just a reincarnation of Cordovae, a woman from before Rose existed!”
Jessup doesn’t flinch. He eases her finger away from his chest. “Cordovae carries memories of all her lifetimes, as do all Forever Girls, and what she remembers is at the discretion of the Universe or her ability to uncover such memories through magic.”
“And what good would those memories serve?” Tess challenges him.
Jessup tilts his head. “Cordovae was a part of Rose, and therefore her love for you was just as strong.”
“Her love for Anna,” Tess corrects.
There’s a moment where all Jessup does is press his lips together. Composing himself, perhaps. Thinking up another explanation, perhaps. “You don’t believe anyone can love you.”
Tess scoffs, but then her mouth hangs open, her words stuck in throat.
“You were a carrot on a stick,” Jessup says. “Other spirits are only moved, not truly reincarnated. They have memories of the life they will return to in order to keep them connected. Cordovae was...different. There was no life for her to return to this time, and she did not want to fight this war. So she was given her memories from her life as Rose to motivate her, and her memories as her life as Abigail to keep her grounded in the time she was thrown into. But I assure you, Rose and Abigail are both gone, and you, Tess, are Anna.”
Tess keeps shaking her head, anger writ on her face. “You are unbelievable.”
She shakes her head again and leaves for the kitchen.
Eleanor looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Well?”
“Well, what? I’m not convinced, either. Why can’t I remember my life as Cordovae if that is who I really am? I just want to go home.”
“You are home, Cord,” Jessup says. “This is your home now. If the Universe gave Forever Girls fragments from all of their precious lives, they would go insane. You remembered what you needed to, and now your life can start anew.”
“But Rose knew Cordovae,” I argue. “How could she know that then, before all of this? And why didn’t the Morts try to possess me as they did my family. Or Rose’s family, or whatever it is you are implying.”
“Roses family, yes,” Eleanor says. She spreads her skirt and sits in a large, winged chair. Her feet don’t reach the ground, and her cheeks are rosy pink. I still can’t piece together the way they talk with the way they look. “And the Morts of your time didn’t take you because they are afraid of Seers, most of them. And that’s because of what happened here, in Salem. As for Rose, you—Cordovae—protected her. You came forth to shade her from the abuse. Most girls would have fallen apart at the seams. Killed themselves. Killed the baby. You gave her strength.”
They have an answer for everything, it seems. A ‘logical’ explanation, if ever there was any. I have no reason to doubt them any more than I have reason to believe them, but in the end, none of it matters. All that matters is whether Anna is with me. Really and truly. That’s all that has ever mattered.
I stare at Tess. Could it be true? Could Tess be...could she be Anna?
“I don’t remember anything about that life,” Tess says angrily from the living room doorway. “Wouldn’t I remember now that you’re telling me? Something, anything!”
Eleanor perks her eyebrow. “How could you have fragments of a life you were too young to imprint upon? You died as an infant, after all.”
Though my belief in this story is increasing—be it because it’s true or because I wanted it to be—I still can’t help but grieve Anna’s loss. At the same time, I understand now the bond I have always felt with Tess, even if she hasn’t always felt the same about me.
If all this is true, I haven’t stolen Abigail’s life as I had feared. And if this is true, my daughter is safe. And with me. Really, truly with me. But what if they’ve got it all wrong? What if they’re lying?
Tess doesn’t remember me. She’ll never remember me. She’s been robbed of her mother, and even if she is here now, I have still been robbed of my daughter. We can never get that life back.
The Universe had been misleading. They said I would get Anna back if I finished this war, but they never told me this would be how I got her back. But if this is all true...we can have each other now, and that would keep me alive.
William puts her arm around Tess. “Come on, say something.”
“Say something?” she asks, pulling away. “What could I possibly say to this? It’s ridiculous! You can’t be buying into this, William, please! Just make them tell her how to go back!”
I shake my head, confused. Why is she so angry about this?
Eleanor’s expression goes stony, and she stares at Tess. “We are not liars. I’ll prove it. Cordovae, sing the song.”
My heart tightens. I can’t do that. That song was for Anna. Only for Anna.
Eleanor grabs my arm. “You will find no peace if you don’t.”
I feel the urge stirring in my stomach. Perhaps it is confidence lent to me from Eleanor. Strength. Like a fire in my pit.
The words leave my lips unsteady and unsure, though my heart knows this song inside and out. I mumble the tune.
Better days...ahead, my love...
better days, rest your head, my love.
Better days, when you awake,
we’re moving on, moving on, moving along,
and I’ll take you there
to better days.
For better days
With you.
Tess’ expression falls. She looks disgusted. Does she know the song? Could she remember, somehow? There’s only one way to know for sure if she’s Anna. I cross the room with such urgency that Tess meets my advance by stepping back.
“Sorry,” I whisper, freezing just inches away from her.
She swallows. “Yeah.”
“If you are my daughter,” I say carefully, “you have a birthmark on your left shoulder. It looks like this—”
“Do you?” I ask.
She gives a non-committal shrug. “Even if Anna did, would I?”
She is looking at me when she asks the question, but then turns her focus to Eleanor and Jessup, as though it is them she is really asking.
Jessup purses his lips. “This is new, even to us,” he says, “but in theory, it’s possible.”
“What does that mean,” Tess asks.
“It means,” Eleanor says, speaking softly, “that Anna’s birthmark could very well be your own, just as Abigail’s body carries the mark from Rose.”
Everyone in the room is staring at Tess. Nearly crowding her. She’s glaring at us, backing away, inching toward the door. William stands in her way.
“No,” I say. “Let her go.”
He steps aside, and she storms outside.
Jessup touches my arm. “Want us to talk to her?”
I shake my head. “I’ll talk to her. Alone.”
I stand on the other side of the door, trying to work up the courage to follow her out there. Would me being her mother be such a horrible thing? Does she really hate me that much?
I feel a room full of eyes on my back, and my breath is tight in my chest. Finally I reach for the doorknob, open the door, and step outside. Tess is sitting on the porch, hunched over something.
I sit carefully beside her. She won’t look at me, but now I can see what she is holding. Her music box. Slowly, she lifts the lid. Her hands are shaking. The tune begins. My lullaby to Anna. To her. A tear splashes to the small wooden box. I place my hand on her shoulder, but she twists away, and I drop my hand back to my side.
Her gaze slides to mine, her eyes puffy and red. She turns her back to me and slowly pulls her braid over one shoulder. Then she slips a piece of her dress down. And there it is. Right where I remember it. Right on the back of her left shoulder, nearly a carbon copy of my own.
My hand covers my mouth as my jaw drops open.
COME, THE DARK: (Forever Girl Series Book Two) Page 33
