Glow of the Fireflies

by Lindsey Duga

  “Oh good, the human girl whooo started all this mess. Hoo.”

  My gut twisted, and I opened my mouth to reply.

  “Yes, yes, she’s real sorry,” Izzie said gesturing with her wrist. “Can you skip the guilt trip and tell us where to find the earth god? Big buck dude with branches for antlers.”

  “How could youuuu think they want to see you? Hoo.”

  “Because they can help us fix it. Will you please take us to them?”

  I swore the owl puffed out his chest before he took off from the tree in a flurry of feathers and leaves. “Try to keep up. Hoo.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Izzie.

  She gave me a smug smile. “You think you’re the only one who has a way with animals?”

  …

  The meadow was similar to how I remembered it, but now that it was dark, it seemed emptier. Lonelier.

  “Where is the god?” Izzie whispered.

  I shushed her and pointed to a cluster of branches protruding from the middle of the field.

  Izzie reached down and took my hand. It wasn’t much, but I was glad for the show of support. And I was glad she was here. I knew I’d be scared out of my mind if I had to do this alone.

  “Excuse me?” I called across the meadow. “Um...lord?”

  Slowly, the branches shivered, and the god picked their head up, green eyes glowing along with the mana from their antlers, the energy fluttering away on the night breeze.

  “We need your help.”

  The god began to lower their head back into the grass.

  Thinking of Bruley the black bear, I stalked across the meadow with Izzie at my heels. “I know you can talk, dude!”

  “Uh, Brye? You don’t know for sure,” Izzie offered, the meadow grass brushing against our shins.

  No, it was a god, and if not a god then a powerful spirit. They could talk. Just like Raysh, Ashka, Bruley, even Rikki, Tikki, and Tavi.

  I stopped five feet away and folded my arms. “No, the god is just being a stubborn jerk.”

  At that, the stag picked their head back up, green eyes narrowing at me. “What do you want, human?”

  Their voice shook and trembled with power and energy. It seemed to vibrate the very ground at our feet.

  “I want to save my valley.”

  The deer huffed, silver mana blowing from their nostrils in a cloud. “It’s a bit late for that.”

  My stomach flipped, but I pushed the anxiety down. “No, it’s not. We still have time.”

  The god returned to ignoring me, laying their head back down into the meadow grass.

  “Hey! This is your world, too! Aren’t you supposed to be its guardian?”

  At that, the god lifted their head, blowing another cloud of mana. Every breath seemed to get more and more irritated. “I was its guardian. And I failed.”

  “So…what? You’re feeling sorry for yourself?” I demanded.

  The god stood, green mana surging outward in a force field rivaling the shields of the Starship Enterprise.

  “Careful, Brye,” Izzie warned out of the corner of her mouth.

  “‘Sorry for myself?’ What a human thing to do. No, I am accepting my fate. Now you and that human god must endure the consequences of your actions. You made the decision to steal my key and open these gates.”

  Rage welled up inside me. “Because we were tricked by Raysh!”

  The god stomped their hooves irritably. “The conduit should’ve known to never help a human like you.”

  “How should he have known? None of you TOLD him anything!” I exploded, my voice carrying over the meadow almost loud enough to shake the earth, ironically.

  “He’s been alone for years, never belonging anywhere.” My fists trembled at my sides. “He barely knew his powers and definitely not the rules of these gates. He’s just supposed to exist and move mana from one world to another? Humans aren’t like that. We need purpose and other people. So I might have torn down these barriers and put this valley in danger, but not watching out for him, even just for the purpose of protecting these gates—that’s on you.”

  “The fire god must have its anchor. It is for that reason that the boy is kept in the dark and forced to make a connection with a human.”

  “And it is for that reason that our worlds are merging,” I said mockingly, folding my arms. “So how has that worked out?”

  There was a long silence. The silver mana of the wind blew through the surrounding trees and ruffled the meadow grass. It made the flowering petals and leaves on the god’s antlers dance.

  “Listen, um, Lord of All that is Green,” Izzie said, breaking the silence, taking a step forward and holding out her palms in a sign of peace. “We just need your help. We think we can stop the fire gate from opening. But you have to help us save the valley from all the fires.”

  The god cocked their head at Izzie. “The fires will come no matter what, because the sun will rise, and you cannot stop that any more than you can stop that boy from loving you.”

  It was like the god had kicked me with their hooves in my stomach and sent me flying. I imagined myself soaring through the starry sky.

  “Whoah,” Izzie said again.

  “He doesn’t…” My throat grew tight, unable to finish the sentence.

  “Of course he does. They all do. How do you think that connection works so well?”

  I hated that Alder’s feelings had been orchestrated by these gods, but I refocused. What’s done was done, and I would have to sort through my feelings later. “We have another idea to stop the fire gate.”

  The buck got up and trotted toward me, staring me down, eyes, branches, and the moss growing on their hooves all glowing with astral earth energy. The very air around them sizzled with power, and I knew it would take just one well-placed stomp to kill me.

  “I’m listening.”

  …

  All right, I had to admit—riding on the back of an all-powerful nature god was pretty freaking cool.

  At first the earth god had not been enthusiastic. Their part in saving the valley involved saving the humans, after all. Which, like Alder had said, none of the spirits really cared much about.

  In the end, it was actually Izzie that had persuaded them.

  “Might I remind you,” Izzie had said, holding up a threatening finger to the earth god, “that humans are a part of this valley. Whether you like it or not. And, more importantly, if the three planes become one, humans will be all up in your space. Especially if they get trapped here because of the fires. Now, does that sound like fun to you? Hmm?”

  I had to hand it to my friend. She had this way of shutting down arguments.

  So now we were riding on the back of the deer spirit as the mana blurred all around us. It hadn’t even been our idea to climb aboard, but they complained that our human pace was too slow. Which was how I ended up holding onto antlers as they galloped through the forest, leaping entire rivers in one single bound.

  Izzie squeezed my waist, letting out terrified squeaks and muttering, “I am so not a horse girl.”

  When we reached the path back to the physical world, the god slowed down to a trot and stopped under a large chestnut oak that marked its entrance. “I cannot follow you any farther. Not until the solstice would I be able to fully cross over.”

  I slid off their back and helped Izzie down as well. She whimpered as her feet touched solid earth and shot the god a withering glare.

  “I get it. Thanks for bringing us here. But you’re closer to the physical world so your…quakes should be stronger, right?”

  The god huffed again, silver mana twirling out of their nostrils in smoky tendrils. “That is the theory. But I will need something from you first.”

  “Something from me? Like what?”

  “You stole my key. I no longer contain the pow
ers of a god. To be able to produce these earthquakes, I will need to take some of your mana.”

  I blinked. “My mana? You mean what I get from Alder.”

  “No, if I had meant his, I would’ve said it,” the buck replied shortly. “I need yours.”

  “But I don’t have any except his.”

  The god shook their head, leaves and flower petals sprinkling to the ground. “I’m not referring to his elemental mana. I require your spiritual mana. You were born in this valley. Therefore you are connected to the spirit world just like we all are. You have your own mana. You just don’t know how to use it.”

  I stared down at my hands, trying to process the god’s words. “But then…how can I give it to you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe if you tried praying,” Izzie interjected.

  I glanced over at her, raising my eyebrows.

  She shrugged. “Well, that’s what you do with gods, right?”

  Yes, it was.

  Shutting my eyes tight, I started…praying. Talking to them. Not with my mouth, but with my heart. My soul. The void in my chest, usually so cold and empty, seemed to warm.

  Please, take my mana. Save this valley. Save our worlds.

  A sound from the god made me open my eyes, and I gasped as pearly white mana floated off my skin, white and luminescent and fusing with the green mana of the buck.

  Tossing their head, the god pawed the ground, hooves digging into the earth as my mana surrounded them. The stag seemed to grow larger. Stronger. Greater.

  I swallowed, taking a step back. “Will that do?” I asked, mouth dry. I didn’t feel any different at least. It seemed to be an energy that I had endless amounts of.

  Their eyes blazed a fierce emerald. “It will. There is one more thing you should know.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. I didn’t think I could take any more obstacles. “What now?”

  “When you open the gates, you take part of the god into the physical world.”

  The branch, the shell, the feather. “Yeah, and?”

  “The fire god is made wholly of energy, so there isn’t just a piece of him that can be taken into the physical world. When the sun begins to rise, the barriers will begin to lower, but it isn’t until the fire god crosses fully out of the astral plane that the worlds truly become one.”

  “So what if the fire god just doesn’t cross?”

  “They will.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Like us all, they are drawn to this valley.”

  I waited for more, but I realized that the earth god had said their piece. And while I didn’t understand how a god of literal fire felt drawn to anything, I had to take their word for it.

  With a deep breath, I said, “Okay, give us an hour, all right? We need to get to the town.”

  As Izzie and I started for the path, the god caught my sleeve between their teeth, nibbling on the cotton. “Save our valley, Briony Redwrell. Prove to me what that boy clearly sees in you.”

  I brushed my hand along their velvety nose, and I felt the earth god’s own mana—rich like fertile soil—rush through me as they allowed it.

  Smell of wildflowers and pine, and petrichor—the scent of the dry earth after a hard summer rainfall. The touch of rough rocks and the smooth stone of limestone within caverns far beneath our feet. Whisper of leaves and the creak of crickets.

  I smiled, my senses and spirit full of the earth essence of the Smokies. “Thanks for your help, Bambi’s dad.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  By the time we got back to Gran’s house, picked her up in Izzie’s car, and headed toward town, it was nearing five o’clock in the morning.

  According to Gran, sunrise in the Smokies today happened at exactly twenty after six.

  If the earthquakes occurred now, then the people in Firefly Valley would have only under an hour and a half to get out.

  That had to be enough time.

  Just as Izzie swung down the turnoff into the downtown area of Firefly Valley, the earthquakes started. At first, it was subtle, hardly able to tell, but the next one created ripples in Izzie’s water bottle just like a T-Rex was coming for us.

  Izzie went above the speed limit but still moved pretty slow thanks to the streets clogged with festival preparations, much of which had already gone up yesterday.

  Many of the residents of the valley had their booths prepped—ready to make money and ready to showcase crafts and baked goods they’d slaved over. I imagined them all going up in flames, and my heart ached.

  As we neared the end of the small street, I could see a stage in the meadow that stretched behind Ms. Tilly’s café. It was set up with speakers and wires, awaiting the musical instruments of a local Tennessee bluegrass band. Farther out in the meadow sat the great pile of wood for the bonfire. The whole tower glowed a sheer, yet vibrant, white. It was full of everyone’s mana. From all over the valley, they had taken their spare wood, their chopped trees and loaded them and driven them here. Each piece of wood was their connection to the valley.

  “It makes us feel connected.”

  Izzie parked in the same spot as she had before when she and Gran went to play bridge. It already felt like a lifetime ago.

  Being not much of help hobbling around in crutches, Gran stayed in the car, while Izzie and I jumped out. As our feet touched the gravel, the biggest earthquake yet shook the valley.

  It made Izzie and I stumble, and I had to grab hold of the car door to stay upright.

  Another earthquake and then another caused shouts of alarm from nearby houses. Ms. Tilly was actually the first to emerge in a bathrobe, her hair done in curlers and her face white with panic.

  “Briony? Izzie?” she called from her porch. Her two cats ran out from behind her and darted down the steps, right under Izzie’s car. “What’s going on?”

  Following Ms. Tilly were the rest of the residents, each of them stumbling, bleary-eyed, as they came out of their homes and wandered into the streets.

  Izzie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Everybody, get yer asses over here!”

  It took much, much too long for all the residents to gather at Ms. Tilly’s porch. While precious minutes ticked by, I scanned the horizon. It was still dark, but the sun was coming. Very soon.

  How was Alder? Had he found Mom in the astral plane, yet? Would he have been able to get her past the fire god and through the boundary? And Mom? Was she still all right?

  I prayed to Bruley that he’d kept watch over her body. That she was unharmed and safe, and ready for her spirit to be whole once again.

  “Brye? You okay? You’re shaking.” Izzie rested a hand on my shoulder, her brows furrowed in concern.

  It was lighter outside, just a bit, just a small bit, but I could see the outline of the houses better. Something jolted inside me, telling me to look up and look out.

  My stomach sinking to my knees, I zoomed in on something in the distance. A dark column of smoke outlined against the dim, but lightening sky.

  Fire. The wisps were starting to take on the element.

  Izzie followed my gaze and her touch on my shoulder turned into a squeeze.

  “We’ve gotta tell everyone, c’mon.”

  Just as a car’s headlights swung into the town, hopefully a resident from the mountains that had felt the earthquakes, another tendril of smoke curled up into the heavens.

  It was starting. Where was Alder? Where was Mom? If the wisps were igniting, then didn’t that mean the barrier was thin enough for Mom to pass through? Why weren’t they here yet?

  I started to move with Izzie, up the steps, when I caught sight of a tall silhouette standing out in the meadow, with sharp, growing branches climbing into the sky.

  The earth god was in the physical world.

  I sucked in a bre
ath. “Something’s wrong.”

  “You mean besides the entire valley about to go up in smoke?” Izzie asked, exasperated, then she, too, caught sight of the god at the edge of the meadow. “Oh, shit.”

  Before I could say anything else, she hugged me. “Go, girl. Go. I’ll make sure they get out okay.”

  With a quick nod, I raced down the steps, pushing past people in their night clothes and robes, my heart rate accelerating to a dangerous point. Over my shoulder, I called, “Make sure they set up road blocks! No one into the valley!”

  Just as I was about to sprint into the meadow, Gran caught my arm. She took my cheeks in her hands and my breath hitched.

  “You have to go, I know,” she said, her voice tight, but steady. “But listen to me, Briony. This is important. You bring yerself back here. All right? Your momma wanted you to live. But she and I… We both forgot something important. Sending you away, it killed another part of you. This valley is you.” She took a deep breath. “That boy didn’t give you that magical energy or whatever it is—he brought it out. That’s all.”

  My frazzled brain tried to make sense of what she was saying, but only some of it seeped through the constant screaming of fire in my head. I kissed her cheek. “I love you, Gran.” I peeled her hands away from my face. “I’ll bring Mom back. I swear.”

  Then I took off running past Tillywater’s Café and through the tall grass, fear making my legs move faster. In one single jump, I leaped onto the back of the earth god and they galloped across the meadow, straight back into the valley where the fire gate was beginning to open.

  “What’s happening?” I yelled over the hoof beats. “Where’s Alder?”

  I couldn’t lose him again. Not when we were…whatever we were. Labels aside, he was special to me.

  He had to be okay. They both had to be.

  The stag said nothing, continuing to run at an impossible, breakneck speed.

  It felt like I was running alongside them with how hard my heart was pounding. I kept thinking about Alder leading me through Gran’s garden and pulling out the silver pail of our adventuring kit, of the bracelet on his wrist he’d never removed, and that precious memory of him pulling back the sheet hanging on the clothesline and finding me, winning our game of hide-and-go seek.