The moon was high when I felt a bit better, improving little by little, gazing up at her eyes as she smiled. The odd voice was gone, and I touched my face tentatively. It seemed normal.
‘What the hell is wrong with me?’ I asked softly, not expecting an answer.
Yet, she had one. ‘Stop cussing, girl. It’s your own fault. You called them by your name and they heard. Did you not? And I didn’t even have to tell you how. You knew already.’
‘What?’
‘When you were up there, you told them you are ready,’ she said and took my face between her hands. ‘You are called back, love.’ She smiled sadly at me. ‘It is the day. That particular day. The hour of the Dark Levy. I have never answered their call and only once made the summons.’
‘Called where?’ I asked, miserable and confused. ‘Summons?’
She shook her head as if the answer was impossible to provide. ‘You are one of the many, my child, and there are many hallowed places like ours all around our world. You are not alone,’ she told me while raising me to a seated position, and I felt sorry, for I was two heads taller than she was, and I had been likely crushing her. Her face was pallid and strange.
I snorted softly; afraid my head would again flare with pain. ‘Yes, there are plenty of people who are mad. Like old Edna in our village. Drools and giggles. Nothing unusual about that, is there? I’m mad, Grandmother. They all think so. I’ll just fall deeper into madness. It’s so scary. They’ll put me in some horrible asylum and fill me with sedatives. I bet it won’t be long when I cannot speak or piss like normal people. I’ll sit in my piss and never notice. I’ll be giggling in some unwashed room with a dozen other crazy bastards and nobody will care.’
‘You are not mad, girl,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘No, it is not that. I know that now.’
‘I’m ill, then. My head hurts, and I saw something in the mirror.’ I was sobbing, for I was terrified. ‘Was not the first time, either.’
She nodded at me. ‘Sure, there are people who are truly mad, or indeed have a deadly disease, but this is in many ways more dangerous. There are people locked up in forgotten prisons and hopeless asylums for having what you have. And it will get worse.’
‘I know it gets worse,’ I told her miserably. ‘It’s worse than it was two years past.’
‘I know, love. I told you. I’ve seen it. I’ve had it. I have it.’
I stared at her carefully, but she was serious. ‘Had what? Have what? Exactly?’
She took a deep breath and shook her old head forlornly. ‘I was always agitated when I was young, much like you, forever tired with the mundane, ordinary, boringly tedious life, with all my life, in fact. I was petulant and unreasonably angry when my head hurt, especially at this date every two years, but it was more terrible after I was a teen, especially then. I did not know what to do with my life, what to reach for and why. I was always so very unhappy. I never found peace from the depths of depression, my child.’
‘You?’ I wondered.
She nodded ‘Life seemed … wrong. Sometimes too hard. Especially on this very day. It is a special day for us, even if you have not called them by your name. It is hard, but I’ve managed to survive so far. Once I also called them by my name. I was told to, by my father, Patrick.’
‘You are always smiling, and you enjoy your life,’ I told her bluntly, and she laughed merrily.
‘No, I was and am faking. Life grew a bit easier as I got older as if they no longer thought I was of use. But this very day used to be hard, always so, even without the call. Often, I drank myself senseless for this evening. There is a reason for all of this pain and confusion, but I am not sure if you wish to hear it. But yes, you must hear it.’
‘Not sure? Yep, I’m ready to hear. I’m so tired of living like this. I do not wish to …’
‘Kill yourself?’ she asked sadly.
‘Yeah,’ I told her, my voice withering. ‘Have you ever thought …’
She nodded carefully, smoothing her dress. ‘Ferdan saved me, girl. I hung myself, and he came in just in time and helped me, for he is a good man, indeed, despite his obvious faults. He could have just let the pagan hang, no? I had a child, our Bridget, later on. I endured and gave life and care and enjoyed what I could.’
‘You survived for Mother?’
‘Yes. No,’ she said. ‘Both. I had a position to fill. A priestess, if you like.’
‘Look …’
She put a finger over my mouth, and I went quiet. ‘My father expected me to keep up the tradition, but I had half decided not to. There are many families like ours around the world, but we are growing fewer. It's just too hard a burden to carry to survive until old age. And it might not be a bad thing for the families of the Dark Levy to die off. It is dangerous, I think, to heed the call. I vowed not to involve you in it. I have been watching you for years. I worried about you, hoped you could pull through this without me. I had sworn to myself I would not do anything to push you to the promised escape of the old ways. But I changed my mind this evening.’ She looked mildly uncomfortable, and I stared at her. ‘I spoke to someone, not an hour ago and hoped to help her cross over like my father helped others of our family cross. I thought she would indeed benefit from the call. She is harsher and hardier than you. You lack something she does not.’
‘What don’t I have?’
‘Ruthlessness,’ she said with a small voice. ‘She is ruthless, and I think might do well when she goes. Oh, I was right. She is ruthless, more than I thought. But she is a bit mad as well and that actually surprised me.’
We sat there for a moment or two, and I saw she was struggling with herself, biting her lip and wringing her hands. ‘You hung yourself?’ I asked for I did not believe her.
‘Here,’ she said softly as she opened up her high-necked tunic. An angry red and white scar glared in the moonlight, marring her throat crudely. ‘It is hard, Shannon, to be enveloped in constant, strange pain, always angry, always confused. I do not wish for you to suffer such a fate, at least any longer than you have to. I think you won’t be able to live with this thing like I have.’
‘Why do we have this … thing? What is …’ I began, staring at the terrible scar around her neck, but she shook her head.
‘What is it?’ she mused. ‘It’s the most natural thing in the world if you are lost. It is a yearning that cannot be fulfilled. Have you ever seen a captured bear in a cage? Have you? Of course you have. There was one in the fair the other year. Was it happy?’
‘Happy? No, it wasn’t. It looked sort of confused, nervous, agitated …’
‘Sometimes aggressive, other times sluggish, most of the time just entirely uncaring of his life as he walks around that little world restricted by bars. Such creatures live, barely, breathing in and out, their life holding little meaning. They run in circles until their paws and joints give up,’ she said and added: ‘they are like us.’
‘You and I?’ I asked her, fascinated.
‘The few unlucky fools like us, yes. Don’t you feel like something …’
‘Is missing,’ I added quickly, wondering at her face that was white, so very white and strange. She was frightened. We stared at each other for a long while. ‘But what is missing?’ I asked afraid of her answer.
‘Our soul,’ she answered. ‘Or part of it. Our purpose is gone, Shannon. We yearn for something that was once. It is a power. A primal force and it is no longer with us. Like a captured wild animal yearns for freedom, we yearn for our true connection to the power we should have. It is almost a divine power. I do not know if it is Ferdan’s God, or something else, but some of us felt it, once. We used it. And we still remember it. It was part of us. Part of some of us, at least. Most humans didn’t see this power, but some few did.’
I stared at her for a moment, looking at her strangely vacant eyes. ‘Grandmother, I …’ I began but went quiet and sat still, unsure of what to say.
She sighed and gave me a sideward glance, careful not to s
tartle me as she ruffled my hair. ‘I know nothing, love, nothing is certain. But there are stories in this family, so there are.’
‘There are a lot of stories in the family, Grandmother,’ I grumbled.
She laughed with a clear voice. ‘Yes, but it is an old family. Stories tend to accumulate, love. There are many families like ours, all across the world, as I told you. Many of them know the old stories though few speak of them in public, only in private to those who are affected. They speak of the power we lost. And while there might very well be the God, the stories also speak of lesser deities. Gods in their own right, perhaps.’
‘Does that old, rancid sperm whale know the stories?’ I asked sourly and thought Ferdan had sneaked up on us for a night bird was startled to frenzied flight near us. We stared as it flew and Grandmother patted my hand.
‘He believes in God, love, in sweet Christ and thinks the salvation is something one can grasp at by being kind and charitable, even to old heathens like me. At least he hopes it is so, so very hard he does. I hope he is right. Surely there is a God to look after our souls? He also believes there are evil creatures men once worshipped. He knows I have seen them.’
‘So tell me,’ I said. ‘What do you mean, you have seen them?’
She smiled. ‘Grandfather told us about the gods when the others went to hear Father Andrew preach of love and Christ and how women are the Devil’s own sweethearts. That priest was drunk, love, always during the sermon and once drank down all the wine meant for the holy communion, and later fell over old Gracie as she was confessing her many sinful thoughts.’
‘Isn’t that done in the confessional?’ I asked with a small giggle.
‘Yes, he fell through the screen and over her and shat himself. Gracie thought he was the Devil taken and she died a month later of the fright. Father Andrew put her to the grave,’ Grandma said with a bemused smile, and I held my hand across my mouth, trying to stop laughing. After a while, I managed to calm myself.
‘And? What did Grandfather tell you?’
She smiled and adjusted her scarf. ‘He, my grandfather sat us down around the fire pit in his old, moldy house, hoping to avoid Grandmother Mary’s keen ears, for she was a terrible gossip. He told us something came out of something, and there is no way for us to understand it.’
‘That’s it? Something came out of something?’ I asked and quaffed, despite the lingering ache in my lobes. ‘Grandma …’
She waved her hand at me. ‘Shannon, it is certainly not human, no. Something came to fill the void. Is it God? Perhaps not. Perhaps God came before it, though I think the lesser gods were born of it, this power. It has life, but no face. It was and is the power that gave birth to everything. It created the materials and ingredients of life, the building blocks, indeed. The rest, all the architecture and the various products are made by something else, lesser, more simple gods, perhaps, but not like the God we hope will give us a raise or a better husband, and eventually, a blissful spot at his heavenly table. That God, Ferdan’s God, ours salvation is a greater mystery. This power, Shannon, is like a huge unseen sun, source of energy and life and we once saw it. In our head. That we no longer do, is driving us mad.’
‘That sounds so vague,’ I said.
She waved her hands. ‘It is vague. I shall not dwell on God, Shannon. I will just speak of this this power. It was the beginning and not only of this world. I know there are worlds out there as well and I know there were creatures we called gods living in them, shaping them. We worshipped them, indeed we did. Patrick’s stories say they are much less wise than the benevolent saviors we read about in our hopes of salvation. Some stories say these lesser beings made all the men as well. In their image? Perhaps. But that is disconcerting, love, for we are terribly flawed.’
‘Grandmother, there is no way for you to know this,’ I told her sternly. ‘Or for the Great Grandfather Patrick, for that matter.’
She squeezed my arm. ‘I have seen this power. Felt it, rather. That one-time grandfather helped us call the creatures of these worlds in our name, and we had to decide if we wished to go or to stay.’
‘Seen and felt the power,’ I said softly as I glared at her. ‘Gods? You are serious?’
‘I am serious enough, Shannon,’ she whispered. ‘The power? It is glorious. It is real.’
‘You are not some kind of a conspirator, Grandma?’ I asked. ‘You want to go back home?’ She was speaking, but no voice came out, and I wondered for I felt I saw through her for a moment. Then soon, she was whole again. I was mad, that was it.
‘Of course, I am! Even the paranoid have enemies. But this is the truth, not a lie.’
‘Grandma,’ I held her hand. ‘There are no … creatures of other worlds. Soon you will claim there are giants. Science …’
She grunted and swished her hand in agitation. ‘Read your father’s books, love, but do not think all the answers can be found there. Even the Bible says there were giants once, sons of Anak, over thirty tribes of them. And more …’
‘Grandmother, I am not sure how this helps with my headache. It makes it worse, in fact,’ I winced. ‘You are just talking nonsense and all of it means as much as Ferdan’s words. This story of yours is like a hangover. I’ve never had one, of course, but I’ve seen Father after he comes home from the pub. You are supposed to help me, but you are frustrating me.’
She nodded. ‘I said I have seen and felt some of these things, Shannon.’
‘What kind of things?’ I asked suspiciously. ‘You said you had to decide if you wanted to stay or leave? You stayed, apparently.’
She leaned forward in sorrow. ‘I would not, could not do it. And now you might have to decide as well. Had I not had Bridget, you would not have to risk so much. I cannot bear to have put you in such danger.’
‘Do what?’ I asked her with growing impatience, and she hesitated.
She took a ragged breath. ‘There was a moment in my life everything seemed clear for one fleeting moment. I did not feel anxious, not lost in the least. It was this very date, and I was young. And I saw this wonderful power. I felt it. There were once gates to our world. They are still there, despite what Ferdan hopes for, but they do not function without a call and something else. There are people who still know the old rites. I never told Ferdan this, but not all the druids died up there, oh no. He suspects we are kin to them, but he is not sure.’
‘Gates? From where?’ I asked, perplexed. ‘I don’t understand. What are you saying?’
She slapped her thighs. ‘Where they lead, I know not.’
‘Grandmother,’ I breathed.
She patted my hand. ‘Something happened somewhere, Shannon, and we were abandoned here. We lost the connection to this power. Ferdan thinks the death of the heathen priests banished the creatures that ruled here once, but I think there was a war or some calamity, out there somewhere, and something terrible happened. We worshipped the lesser gods still, and some of us, the very few, those whom these flawed gods had granted special gifts went near mad by being denied the source of life, the power. It is what I felt and saw, that day when my brother left. For a briefest of moments I did. It is the power of light and storm, primal and eternal. It is what all life and matter are made of. I think it can be ... harnessed.’
‘Like magic? You could cast spells?’ I asked with a small smile, yet utterly mystified by her story.
She smiled with a yearning. ‘I remember it well. The power is unfathomable, and I think that magic, miracles can be performed by touching and pulling at it. It is the opposite of the void. I felt the fury of power unexplainable. Fiery flames of eternal fires I felt, the nature’s original forges.’ She smiled and her brow was glistening with cold sweat. ‘It was brilliantly bright and utterly dark, and yet so natural. It makes me cry to think about it, the glory of it. It was there; I finally heard it and could nearly … play it. Touch it. Pull some of the flame and heat to me, but it was so hard, so very hard to understand what to do with it. It was like an e
ver-shifting, mad harp with millions of strings to play with. Yet, it is said some of us simple humans once tapped into it, creating wonders and miracles. That was before something happened and before the gates were closed, but this one ritual we still know, and it lets us travel and when the gate is open, you can see the power.’
‘Let’s go inside,’ I told her earnestly, and she shook her head.
‘No. Our family were of these high humans. Of the men and women the Romans killed up there. Of those who could still perform a summoning ritual. Especially this very night, they could send a call and then heed one from the other side, no matter the sundering. And it is still possible. For there is still something out there looking for us. And the reason why we are so agitated and lost, Shannon, is that we can still sense that power. Our minds know there is this magnificent force, but are unable to touch it. It drives us crazy.’
‘Summoning?’ I asked, mystified.
‘It is quite simple, Shannon. Grandfather gave us a choice. We could go, but some might stay. One would have to stay at least, to learn the truth from him, to continue the line and to care for the family that suffered.’
‘You stayed?’
‘I stayed,’ she agreed. ‘Though it was cowardice, not nobility. The summoning requires something unusual, but I never had it in me to perform it, nor take part in it. Not fully. Happily, I never had to think about performing the summoning before. Bridget, your mother, is somehow spared this condition. But you are not. I knew this two years ago, for I called for them to you, and you were called back.’
‘You caused that terrible thing to me? Two years ago? No! Of course you didn’t!’ I yelled at her, furious. ‘I tried to …’
‘Bridget knows and kept an eye on you. She nearly failed and we almost lost you. But yes. I am to blame. I went up there and called the gods in your name. I told them you believe in them and so they answered. I had to know for sure you had this same thing, for there are other strange things going on with you. But now I know about them as well.’ She smiled benignly. ‘You are too weak to live here with this condition. You have to go.’
The Dark Levy: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 1) Page 4
