Echoes & Silence Part 1

by Angela M Hudson

  “What about with a friend?”

  His mouth hung slightly open as he closed his eyes and sighed. I could see he wanted to talk to me, but I could also see the same patterns in his brain I saw in people that were solving problems. “I met someone.”

  Invisible hooks pulled my lips out in a grin. “An immortal?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay, so why do you look so glum?”

  “Because”—he patted the windowsill with his palms, rocking back on his heels—“I’m not sure the guys will respect me the way they do now when they find out.”

  “Yikes.” I pretended to cringe. “Who is this mere mortal that’s got you all riled up? She must be something pretty darn special.”

  Falcon nodded, turning half a gaze onto me. “She is… a he.”

  Immediately a hundred words came to mind, but nothing came out of my mouth. In fact, I’m pretty sure the air stopped flowing to my lungs. I wanted to tell him straight away, before a second of doubt had a chance to set in, that not a soul on this entire island would, or should, judge him. But I just couldn’t say anything. “You’re… you’re gay?”

  He looked out the window again. “I’m bisexual, actually.”

  “Whoa.” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I did not see that one coming.”

  “Funnily enough”—he scratched his brow—“that’s exactly what my parents said when I told them.”

  “And, let me guess, that’s the worst thing you can say?”

  He laughed. “No, there are worse things.”

  “God.” I covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Fal. What I wanted to say was wow. And that’s really cool that you met someone.”

  “But not so cool that he’s a he?”

  “There is nothing wrong with that.” I touched his arm, half pulling on it to make him face me. “I understand that people usually judge others based on their sexual preferences, but that’s not going to happen here. Those guys are a good bunch, Falcon. And they love you. Nothing will change that.”

  “I just wish I had your kind of clarity on the matter.”

  “Well, the ‘matter’ isn’t even an issue. You shouldn’t be worrying about this. It’s silly.”

  He laughed. “So that’s it? You don’t care if I’m bisexual?”

  “Of course I care. I’m happy for you that, if you couldn’t find someone in the female population to get all worked-up over, you can at least look on the other side of the fence. I think that’s awesome.”

  “Then… you’re not going to fire me?” he asked timidly.

  I wanted to slap him. But I drew a tight breath instead and got control of myself. “Did you really think I would? For all you know about me—did you really think that was even a possibility?”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Life has taught me that you can never predict how those you love will react to that kind of news.”

  “That kind of news,” I said mockingly. “You say it like you’ve come to tell me you murdered my cat and ate it or something.”

  He laughed.

  “Idiot.” I shoved him playfully. “So, you gonna tell me about this guy, or what?”

  “Later,” he said simply. “Maybe when I’m not on duty.”

  I fake cringed and checked over my shoulder. “Yeah. Good thinking.”

  We both watched quietly for a moment as the lanterns snaked and weaved a trail around the landmarks down the cliff side and disappeared among the shadows of the beach.

  “There must be a hundred of them out there.”

  “About that, yeah,” he said with a nod.

  “Where’ve they all come from? Are they villagers or—”

  “Most are from the village Lamia, then there’s a few staff, maybe a few manor guests or House officials. And I think there are about thirty or so from the mainland.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of people.”

  “That’s because it’s the first ritual in centuries. Those numbers will die down a little more each year.”

  “What, like they won’t worship the goddess anymore?”

  “No, they’ll always worship the goddesses, but they usually hold their own ceremonies closer to home. I know there’s a ceremony coming up on the next full moon to worship the Spirit of Silver, which is just another of the hundred names for the Moon Goddess—who is, as you should know, the Lilithians’ central goddess.”

  “Unless you’re Catholic. Like me.”

  “Ara, I don’t think you can class yourself as Catholic. Not when you speak with a Pagan goddess every other day.”

  “Lilith is Pagan?”

  He laughed once. “It’s easy to associate her with the Catholic god, the One God, given that she’s said to be the first female God created of the earth, but History and fact very rarely agree.”

  “But I don’t worship her. I only speak with her because she whispers things into my skin that make me feel more alive, like I’m connecting with the earth by hearing her voice.”

  “You don’t need to worship her to be Pagan, Ara. You’re a Pagan goddess-to-be yourself. You don’t walk this earth with steps of faith guiding you to the light at the end, you walk with the knowledge that there is life on the other side. You sit in an entirely different class to both mortal and immortal beings.”

  “You sure do know a lot about this stuff.”

  His eyes smiled but stayed fixed on the night sky. “You need to read The History of Gods—in the Scroll Room. It’s a strictly Pagan-slash-Lilithian research encyclopedia, so it doesn’t talk of Gods outside the Lilithian faith, but they’re not really relevant to you anyway.”

  “You do a lot of reading, don’t you?”

  He nodded like a bobble-headed dog on a dashboard. “That I do.”

  I let myself get lost in thought then, my eyes searching the black nothingness at the edge of the island for a while as the grandfather clock kept time to the gentle rhythm of both our beating hearts, pulsing in almost perfect unison. It wasn’t often I could bear to think of all those Lilithians Drake enslaved after he took the monarchy, but when my thoughts wandered from those worshipping on the beach into the cells of this manor and the castle, I braced my heart and let myself feel their pain. I pitied those of my people who were forced to torture Drake’s prisoners more than I pitied those locked in tiny cells, and I truly hoped that their prayers would be answered by the goddess. No one should be forced to perform centuries of brutal punishment, or be deprived of daylight—of life—and not get some reward for it.

  “Well.” I stepped backward and shut the thoughts away for another day. “I better get back to work.”

  “Wait.” Falcon clutched the top of my arm. “You should stay. They’ll release paper lanterns soon, and the whole sky will light up like twinkling stars.”

  “I really need to finish these—”

  “Look.” He cut me off, turning my chin to the horizon. I followed the line of his long, thick arm and looked past his fingertip to the starry sky. And there among the silver sparkles in the distance, a burning yellow light turned at just the right angle and became visible.

  Another followed a breath later and soon a multitude rose like flaming orbs into the air, lighting up the edge of the cliff for a moment before the upper atmosphere plucked them away. I could almost hear the waves lashing against the bare knees of those kneeling in prayer, could practically feel the light breeze cool their skin, while the slightest, faintest sound of voices filled my head. I closed my eyes to listen more closely and a sudden clarity emptied my thoughts, leaving my mind open and spacious, the quiet whispers of prayer seeming to reach my heart.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked, and as my eyelids fluttered open, the whispers faded a little, but for every lantern that went up, it was like a new voice gathered in the room.

  Falcon looked sideways at me. “Hear what?”

  I held his warm brown gaze for a moment then looked away to the border of the forest, where a foggy pink glow caught my eye. The celestial form of the godd
ess stood above the trees, her eyes out to sea, her hair and dress wavering on a breeze from another world. She turned her head then and looked up at me, our eyes meeting as if we were standing face-to-face.

  Trust yourself, Auress, her ethereal voice called into my thoughts. Listen to their prayers.

  I closed my eyes again. So those voices aren’t proof of my insanity? I can really hear them?

  Trust yourself, she said again.

  So I did, but I knew it was impossible to hear them all, so I filtered through for the voices of the very young and the very old, and imagined ways I might be able to help them. When the whispering stopped and a total silence swept over the night, I opened my eyes to Falcon’s curious stare. But he lifted it away from my face and laid it back on the last of the lanterns floating out to sea. He always seemed to know when something other than the usual was going on in my head, and I loved that he knew to just stand there and give me space.

  Mother? I called softly in my thoughts.

  Yes, my child.

  Are you trapped in the forest? Because it’s the gateway to your realm?

  No, dear, I am not trapped. I am merely bound, she said. But I can walk among you in the form of all living things.

  My eyes lit up and I giggled out loud when a small and familiar blue-feathered bird landed on the top corner of the window, flapping its wings and making quite a lot of fuss before fluttering off and ducking away into the tree line.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Falcon asked, a smiling frown changing his face.

  “Just someone answering a question of mine.”

  He laughed. “What, like a little birdy told ya?”

  I laughed too. “Something like that.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you and birdy to it.” He cupped my elbow and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “For being someone I can confide in.”

  I brushed his arm as he backed away. “Any time, Falcon. And come see me when you get off duty, okay. I wanna hear all about this new hunk.”

  His shoulders lifted with a timid laugh. “Okay.”

  When he closed the door and the emptiness of a room without whispers suffocated me, I reached out the window and whistled for the little bird. It landed lightly on my finger, its tiny tickly feet wrapping my knuckle.

  “You were there—weren’t you? All those years at my dad’s house?”

  The bird chirped and flapped away, its wings gathering a small gust as it passed me and landed on the desk.

  “I’ve watched over you in many forms,” Lilith said, appearing suddenly in human form on the edge of the desk, like a receptionist in a ghostly costume.

  “Do you watch over Sam?”

  “No. His fate line has no effect on my future.”

  “And mine does?”

  “It will. One day.”

  “How so?”

  “That is not for me to reveal as yet, Auress.”

  “Okay.” I walked over and sat down in my chair. Lilith turned slightly to face me. “So, if you can’t tell me that, can you tell me who bound you to the forest?”

  She picked up a pen and touched the tip to her finger. “I bound myself, you might say.”

  “How?”

  “By bringing a power so pure and so ultimate to soil which could not sustain it.” She put the pen down again, her translucent form making it look like the pen was floating. “The magic of life concealed itself from the sullied earth, air and water in the form of stone, and it is my eternal duty now to protect it from those who seek to misuse it.”

  “Like Anandene casting a spell and bringing a curse?”

  “Yes, but Anandene did not cast a spell that resulted in a curse. She cast a spell that invoked a curse.”

  “Huh?”

  “She used the stone to create that curse: one that wiped out the firstborn son of every man on this island and fixed the wombs of all mortals here. It’s how Lamia got its name—after the Demon Goddess Lamia, the eater of children.”

  “I thought it was named Lamia because it meant something like vampire or whatever in the Old Language.”

  “That is what vampire scholars teach in Lilithian History. But it is not the truth.”

  “Not much we learn in history ever is.” I thought about what I knew of Lilith in history, and she had much the same reputation as Lamia. “Is it true: did you ever walk this earth raping men, killing babies, and causing miscarriage?”

  “I did.”

  My mortification could not be concealed by a mere look of surprise. “Why?”

  She smiled a small smile, looking a lot like her granddaughter Lilith, and rose from the edge of the desk. “For generations, women have fought for equality among men. But this is not a battle that only modern women have faced. It began before the time of humans, in a world where such injustices should not have occurred.”

  “Right, the whole Adam-expecting-you-to-submit-to-him thing?”

  “Yes.” She floated away and hovered by the window. “He was cruel and arrogant, but God was blind to this beastly side of Man.”

  “Why?”

  “Because He’d created him in His likeness. How could Adam possibly be anything but pure?”

  “Gee, sounds like it’s still a sore spot.”

  She faced me again, her smile wavering. “When I realized I was fighting a battle against Adam that I would never win, I left him and the Garden, and he sent three angels out to hunt me down and drag me back. They warned me that if I did not return and submit to Adam, a curse would befall me—to bear one hundred sons and watch each of them die.”

  “What a controlling jerk! So”—I rested my chin on my hands—“what’d you do?”

  “I told them to return to Adam—tell him I would rather watch a hundred babies die than spend another second as his property.”

  “So they cursed you?”

  “They did. And so, in retaliation, I swore to it that I would bear one hundred sons with the impure seed of Man and slay each myself to save the River of Life the burden of a hundred reincarnations. I mated in the form of a mortal woman with mere men of impure minds, often not with consent, and took the lives of each boy as he was born.”

  “And that’s how you obtained the title Goddess of Seduction—”

  “And the curse to go with it.”

  “Right. The Curse of Man’s Eternal Longing.” Otherwise known as The Curse of Lilith—the entire reason Mike and Blade had fallen for me.

  “Yes.”

  “And, the slaying of babes?” I said. “That’s how you gained the reputation as a child killer?”

  “It is. But they did not die in vain.” Her sad eyes landed absently on the face of a small boy in a painting. “For each time my son died, I walked the Valley of the Dead and retrieved that one spirit until, at last, when the first son after one hundred was born to my love eternal, I named him Vampirie and I was free of Adam and his curse.”

  “But not free of the forest?”

  “No.”

  “How long have you been the guardian of the Stone?”

  “For a time that no half-life can comprehend. But I guess, in your feeble understanding, I would say it has been lifetimes.”

  “Will you ever be free?”

  “One day, when the Mother of Eternal Life, also known as the Guardian of Immortal Souls, awakens and sets it free.”

  “Well, where is she? How can we wake her?”

  “To wake, one must be asleep. But to awaken, a catalyst must present itself and evoke the knowledge of oneself.”

  “When will that happen?”

  “When the time is right.”

  “When will it be right?”

  “When it is.” She looked over her shoulder then, and I noticed small murmurs of conversation lilting in on the breeze as the people made their way back toward the manor. “I must return to my dwelling.”

  “Okay. Well, good night.”

  “Good night, young qu
een.” She bowed her head and the light faded, leaving me in darkness, trying to process all of that.

  * * *

  I didn’t get much work done after that profound experience, so I took to the library to read a book instead and was ambushed by a very eager Emily and her baby store catalogue, a notepad and pen. Consequently, I think I read about two lines of the book I’d been waiting a year to get my hands on!

  “We should go to bed, Em.” I jerked my head to the clock. “It’s nearly morning.”

  “You’re right. We should.” Emily laid the long list of “essentials” down on the lamp table between us. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “I often wonder… do you miss him?”

  “Who?”

  “David.”

  The mere mention of his name flooded my mind with everything I once loved about him. I closed my eyes and pictured his face—the way his eyes changed from emerald to almost lime green when he’d smile, and the gentle half-turn that his lip would take when he read something on someone’s mind that they would never have wanted him to know. I didn’t miss fighting with him. I didn’t miss his nasty side. But I missed the way things used to be. And though, for various reasons, I no longer regretted sleeping with Jason, for this one moment I regretted ever wanting to. “Yeah. I kinda do miss him—the old him.”

  “I heard he’s coming home next week.”

  I nodded, still not sure I was ready for that.

  “How’s things going with Jason then?” she probed, sporting a suggestive grin. “I see you two are getting pretty close.”

  “We’ve always been close.”

  “Yeah, but now you’re closer.”

  “I guess. I mean, we’ve just been working together so much lately we…” I shrugged. “Yeah, we are closer.”

  “Does David know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That you’re… with Jason.”

  “I’m not with him, Emily.” I sat back in the cozy armchair and cast my longing gaze to the neglected book.

  “I saw you holding hands,” she teased.

  My shoulders dropped.

  She laughed, hopping up from Arthur’s armchair and coming to sit on the lamp table beside me. “You look happy, though—happier than I’ve ever seen you. Both of you, actually.”