by Ponce, Jen
“I’m sorry,” Sharps said.
A broken, angry girl. I told myself that it was good I didn’t have to kill her. It was good I didn’t have to steal her life away, like I’d taken Jasper’s. All I had to do was kill this clone of my son and I would save Liam. He would be safe. Anyone else infected would be safe too. Kroshtuka would be safe and who knew who else. All I had to do was snap this kid’s neck.
I couldn’t do it.
I had to do it.
I hugged the boy who had the parasite in his head and looked at him with my Magic Eye. The energy around him was broken like Leon’s, and messy. Something black scrawled across his face. The Rider. I could see it and still, he felt so real in my arms. ‘Neutria? Can you do it for me?’
She came forward, not in a rush, but quietly. Scented. The smell of Rider is strong.
Was she reassuring me? I didn’t know.
Her strength pushed into my arms. Her awareness guided my hands. Her power kept me from moving when the Not-Liam began to struggle, kicking with my son’s feet. There were tears on my face and they ran down into Not-Liam’s soft curls as he tried to get free of me. There was no last scream from the Rider, nothing to console me that I was doing the right thing, that I wasn’t making another horrid mistake.
Not-Liam sagged in my arms and I sank to the ground with him, sobbing, holding his body. Neutria didn’t allow me to let go until we could no longer feel his heartbeat under my fingers. Then she left me to my grief.
***
I buried him in the Wilds, his grave covered in river rocks and flowers. My head ached, as did my heart. Every time I started to remember the way he had struggled against me, I’d distract myself with another task, until there was nothing left to do.
I didn’t say goodbye to Sharps. I couldn’t. I left them all and hooked to Tempest Peaks, running down the path, running through the obsidian cleft, up the hill, past the silent warriors, my fear that I’d killed my boy growing and growing inside me. Sharps had stolen him. The Rider in his head had driven him out of the goddess’ care. I’d been tricked and now would pay the ultimate price when I got to the top to find him gone.
He was there, sitting with the goddess and Tytan, his hair messy, his smile the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. When he saw me, his smile widened and he ran to me. I sobbed like a baby as I held him, and told him sorry over and over again. I didn’t tell him why, though. I was ashamed. So ashamed. Even though I’d done what I had to do to save him, I couldn’t admit killing his lookalike.
“Mom. Geez, it’s okay. I’m okay. Can you believe this place?” Under his breath, he whispered, “She’s a goddess!”
I smoothed my hands over his cheeks then forced myself to let him go. “I know. Crazy, huh?”
“It’s awesome. She taught me how to call lightning. It kinda hurts but it’s so cool.” He danced away from me, back to the goddess, who had her hand on her son’s cheek the same as I had done. It was a hopeful sight.
Tytan’s eyes met mine, still a beautiful brown but full of compassion. Because of his soul? He couldn’t have known what I’d had to do.
“Thank you,” I said to the goddess.
“I meant what I said, Devany. I can never repay you for bringing me my son.” She smiled at Liam and rubbed his head. “Your son is a little warrior. He fought the Rider as hard as any full-grown man. And you won, did you not?”
Liam grinned, nodding.
“Come, Devany. We shall teach you how to call the lightning too. Sons and mothers, enjoying each other’s company.” She patted the ground beside her.
I scrubbed the tears from my face and joined them, my poor heart broken and yet swelled with love.
It was a weird feeling.
I wished for Bethy as Liam laughed. I wished for Krosh as Ty smiled at me. I wished for my own mother every time the goddess gifted her son or mine with a smile. Then I opened myself up to be thankful for the moment that was, and hoped that my family would soon be whole once again.
<<<>>>
About the Author
This world needs more readers. Readers are open-minded, imaginative, and more empathetic. Picking up a book, whether one of Jen’s fantasy-fueled novels or someone else’s thriller, puts another person’s perspective of the world in your hands. (Unless you’re telepathic, then you’ve already experienced being in another person’s head. Good thing about books? Organized thoughts. Bad thing about people’s heads? Unorganized chaos, judging from my own stream.)
Pick up a book and enter a new world. See Tibet without getting on an airplane. (Good for those of you who are afraid to fly.) Live with cannibals without getting eaten. (Good for those of you who don’t want to be eaten.) Become a lion-tamer, an assassin, or a lover. Ride a dragon, eat a dinosaur (Come on, who hasn’t wondered what they taste like?), or fall in love with a man who looks like Fabio or a woman who looks like Angelina Jolie.
Do it from the comfort of your couch, your bed, the hard, plastic seat on the subway next to the man dressed in pink taffeta, singing songs about chickens. Whatever you do, don’t stop reading. And if you haven’t started reading, grab a book!
Jen’s love for reading came from her mom, who valued books above all things (except maybe the Dallas Cowboys and Michael Jordan.) She writes for the same reason some people run marathons, climb mountains, sculpt, paint, or put on suits of Mentos and jump into vats of Coke: because there is a fire burning inside her that doesn’t let her NOT do these things. Writing is necessary, like breathing or double chocolate chip cookies and perfectly salted potato chips.
Reading is not a lost pastime and Jen refuses to believe that something so magical could ever go away. Even during the zombie apocalypse, she will be reading. She will just have to learn how to wield an ax in one hand while holding her book in the other.
Jen lives in the Panhandle of Nebraska, with her boys, her cats, her goldfish Reggie and a large supply of books that help insulate the house in the winter and expand her mind.
She loves connecting on Twitter and Facebook. You can also send her email and she’ll write back. Visit www.JenniferPonce.com to figure out how to do all of the above.
Jen. Writer of kick ass women and oogy monsters. One-handed, ax-wielding zombie hunter/reader.
Other Books by Jen Ponce
The Bazaar: Book One of the Devany Miller Series bit.ly/TheBazaarbyJenP
Slip Song: Book Two of the Devany Miller Series bit.ly/SlipSong
Blood Curse bit.ly/BloodCurse
Things that Creep: A collection of short, fantastical horror stories bit.ly/ThingsThatCreep
Bug Queen bit.ly/BugQueen
Hell Wrecker Part One: Addiction bit.ly/HellWreckerAddiction
Counting On Your Love bit.ly/CountingOnYourLove
I also have short stories in:
The Dragon’s Rocketship Presents: Scribe’s Journal bit.ly/TDRScribesJournal
Sins of the Past bit.ly/SinsofthePast
Tied in Pink bit.ly/TiedinPink
Winter Wishes bit.ly/WinterWishesAnthology
Whispers From the Shadows bit.ly/WhispersShadows
