Neither noticed the small group of white fallow deer that had wandered behind the car and to the woods on the other side of the road.
11.
June 23, 2013. Belle Isle. Detroit Michigan.
Clarissa came to in the forest. She could see nothing around her but marsh and trees. Her head was pulsating as if something had hit her, and there was no sign of Opaline or Raymond. A sick feeling filled her gut: she was again in the future, so far into the future that the entire city of Detroit had been returned to its natural state. It was entirely possible that human beings, as such, no longer existed. Several days, or possibly several hundred years, ago, she had seen a movie called Last Man On Earth; this scenario looked far too familiar.
It wasn’t until she heard a car in the distance that her mind stopped concocting nightmares. “What year is it?” She asked out loud. Of course there was no answer.
At least not at first. When she looked around, she saw that she was not alone. Moira, the hospital nurse was leaning against a tree looking as though she had been waiting a long while. “Don’t worry, you’ve only been out for about a day this time.”
“Where’s Opaline?”
“I’ve always found this island interesting, don’t you think? It’s not like Central Park. It’s more like a real wilderness, hidden just off the shore of such a metropolis.”
“Where is Opaline?” She asked more firmly.
“There’s so much mystery here. Not that there isn’t mystery everywhere, of course. You would know that, wouldn’t you, Mlle LaRoux?”
Clarissa scrambled to her feet. The pounding in her head grew instantly worse. “Just tell me where Opaline is?”
The earth tremored just slightly. Moira laughed. “Are you getting angry?”
“The last thing I remember...Opaline was going to call the doe...”
The next laugh died on Moira’s lips. She looked deeply irritated. For some reason, Clarissa felt a great deal of satisfaction about that. “You really care about that harvest witch don’t you?” She asked, a gravelly tone coming through, resembling a growl.
“She’s my best friend.”
“She’s a harvest witch. They stand against us.”
“Us?”
“The Underland, Mlle LaRoux.”
“I have nothing to do with this silly feud. Opaline told me all about it.”
Moira laughed once again. “All? Are you sure? Even the part where she thought you were personally responsible for the prophecy?”
“Opaline did-”
“And then it turned out to be her own Granddaughter?”
Clarissa’s face grew very pale. “What? No...”
“She was probably quite glad to find you again. Pretty convenient to have someone else to deflect blame onto. It must be nice to be friends with a harbinger of doom.”
“I told you before!” Clarissa shouted. A tree shook nearby. “I am not a harbinger of doom. I am many things, but I am not that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Moira made a grand sweeping gesture over the forest around them. “I have a role to play. Just like everyone else. I’m only supposed to remind you of who you are. I didn’t want to have to get this involved. You’re pretty damn scary.”
“Then just tell me where Opaline is.”
Moira shrugged, the smirk on her face growing wide and approaching a smile. “Probably dead and you probably killed her. I mean...you are covered in blood”
“No. I would never hurt Opaline.” Clarissa lunged at Moira. At the same time, a sickeningly loud crack sounded behind her. When Clarissa turned to look, she saw it: directly in the path of a falling tree, a fern with a beautiful bud in the process of opening. It was a brilliant shade of crimson and shaped like a star.
“The fern flower,” Clarissa gasped, completely distracted now. “Opaline did it.”
“And now that tree’s about to crush all her hard work. Good job, LaRoux...You are exactly what I say you are.”
Clarissa didn’t know what to do. She wanted to rip Moira to shreds, but at the same time, the tree was falling fast; the fern flower was about to be lost again. She took a step toward it, unsure of whether she could make it in time, but then the tree suddenly stopped falling.
Opaline looked weak. There was a large gash above her eye still oozing blood and several prominent bruises had already formed. Clarissa could only imagine what other damage she must have inflicted though she couldn’t remember why.
“Get her, Clarissa,” Opaline shouted, a tremble running through her voice.
“No,” Clarissa replied, defeated. “She’s right. I am a monster.”
“Nothing of the sort. You’re beautiful and strong. You can do so much more than be some force for destruction. You’re too good for that.”
More than anything, she wanted to believe her. Hadn’t she worked so hard to become a nurse; to be a protector and a healer? Still, the proof of who she was in truth was written all over her best friend’s face. She couldn’t bring herself to feel angry with Moira anymore. The Underland witch had proven her point.
“Opaline, go away.”
“Not until you listen to me.”
“Don’t you understand there’s no point?”
The tree hurled itself in the opposite direction of the fern flower, crashing down near Clarissa’s feet. She jumped back. Surely, it should have crushed Moira, but it appeared she was gone.
“No point?” Opaline roared with a strength Clarissa would never have imagined she still had in her. “No point? How can you say that? There is always a point, Clarissa LaRoux. You have a purpose. We all have a purpose. Serve your damn purpose!”
Clarissa blinked, utterly stunned. She watched as Opaline, limping as she did so, advanced on the fern flower. She looked over at Clarissa and winked as she reached down to pick it.
“Opaline, don’t!” Clarissa found herself shouting before she even realized what was happening. Clarissa rushed over. Part of her knew, deep down that Opaline would never have touched the flower, but a surge of protectiveness had raced through her heart.
“You want it for yourself?” Opaline teased weakly.
Clarissa cupped her hands around the red blossom. She could have sworn she heard it singing to her. “You made it grow...”
Opaline shook her head. “That’s neither here nor there. For all we know it grew back and it’s been here all along. Point is, it’s yours to protect now.”
The fern flower. The precious treasure that her own ancestor had lost was now here in front of her. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. She looked to Opaline pleading. “But how?”
Opaline leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I suppose you’re going to have to figure that out for yourself.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
You can find her online at https://amystilgenbauer.wordpress.com/ and on twitter @Rosainverno
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And, be sure to read the other books in the Season of the Witch series:
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