by Ben Meeks
“You shouldn’t lie there all day. The vultures will make a meal out of you if you don’t get up soon,” Thera said. I turned my head to my right to see dark brown feet. The feet were attached to bountiful legs that disappeared into a thick mixture off summer grass and wildflowers that grew from her head and cascaded around her body.
She never appeared with clothes, and her appearance changed with the seasons and areas where she appeared. While she appeared like this in summer, in winter she would have almost snow white skin with deep evergreen boughs. Regardless of how she looked, if you were in the presence of the Earth Mother you knew it. She brought with her an essence of power and vitality unmatched by anything else. In any case, now it made sense how I could be close to death, with my truck careening out of control one second, and basking in the sun on the top of Stone Mountain the next.
Stone Mountain is a solid rock that reaches twenty-three hundred feet above a relatively flat landscape. I always thought it seemed out of place—the locals had turned it into a park complete with Confederate generals carved on the front of it. Pain shot through my right side as I sat up; my arm and leg were stiff and not responding. I sat on a slope a few feet away from the edge. A landscape of green stretched out in front of me with the Atlanta skyline off in the distance. Thera sat down beside me, her elbows on her knees, barely able to touch around her large fertile belly. She stared off into the distance. The wind pushed the grasses back from her face.
I doubted any of this was real, of course. When she appears to me in the real world, wind and rain can’t touch her because she isn’t actually there. Her appearance is just a visual representation of her spirit. So that meant I wasn’t actually there; it felt real enough just the same. I wondered if I had died and this was what the afterlife was like: a tourist trap. I think I would prefer nothingness, but looking into Thera’s scowling face, I decided being left alone would be enough. It was quite possible I was bleeding out in the cab of my truck right now. The least she could do is let me bleed in peace.
“Something has happened,” she said, not looking away from the horizon.
“You could say that,” I replied. I relayed the story of finding Naylet and the encounter with the demon calling herself Petra, complete with the snakes, poison, and running her over with the truck.
“So you let her escape,” she said.
“I ran her over four times,” I said. “And that’s after she took a lightning strike from my knife. I really don’t think . . .”
“That’s right, you don’t think. You should have made sure. What if she’s not dead? She was incapacitated, helpless, and you did nothing.”
“Now just hold on. I was trying to save Naylet, not to mention that pain in the ass detective. Plus, I am seriously injured. I almost died. I barely made it to Livy’s . . .” I paused realizing I still didn’t know what had happened. “Did I make it to Livy’s?”
She stared off into the distance like I wasn’t there.
“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Holt is in trouble,” she said.
“Isn’t he always?”
She looked me in the eyes. “This isn’t a joke, he’s in pain.”
“Do you know where he is?” I asked, not feeling quite as jovial as I did a moment before.
“He was attacked and taken somewhere. Not long after, he was in pain. Now I have lost sight of him completely and I feel my connections to others stretching thin,” she said. “Whatever this is, it is affecting me directly. That can’t stand.”
“Do you know what’s doing it?” I asked.
“It could be some demon or magic maybe. I have never experienced this before,” she said. “I think whatever it is, it’s centered around Holt.”
“Did you get a look at what attacked him?” I asked.
Thera didn’t respond. Worry swept across her face, an unfamiliar look for her to say the least. I had never seen that expression on her before and I didn’t like it. Nothing shakes Thera, she is solid as the earth. She stood up and looked around.
“What is it,” I asked.
“Obie?”
That’s when I realized, she couldn’t see me. I reached out to touch her leg, my hand passed through like she was an illusion. I wasn’t sure if that would be normal or not since we weren’t physically here. There was nothing for me to do so I sat and watched. She closed her eyes and concentrated, vanishing to leave me sitting alone. I wondered exactly how I was going to get out of the dream, or whatever it was. Maybe I would wake up whenever my body recovered. What if I didn’t? Physical contact maybe? Livy was seventy miles or so north, I didn’t feel good about my chances as a spirit hitchhiker.
“There you are, right where I left you,” Thera said from behind me.
I twisted around to see her standing over me. I reached out and touched her leg; it was solid.
“I lost you. You need to find what is doing this and put an end to it,” she said.
“It has to be Petra,” I said, standing to face her. “She has a grimoire and I think she was following me. She seems to have some kind of sick obsession with me. I just need some time to heal and I’ll take care of it.”
“You already let her escape once. If you can’t handle this I will take care of it myself. She will not get away again,” she said.
I wasn’t sure about was what she meant by “take care of it herself.” In the two hundred plus years I have been a Keeper she has never handled a demon personally. She’s never even mentioned it. “If you can handle it yourself then why did you tell me to look into it? I am doing my best to handle this up to your standard, preserving life and all that.”
Her tone softened slightly at this. “Obie, do you think I am powerful?”
This caught me off guard. I was suspicious of why she would ask that question. She could create life, she created the Keepers and we are pretty powerful, as things go.
“Terrifyingly so,” I conceded.
“Before the Keepers I had to handle these kinds of things myself. I could bring in a storm strong enough to level this entire landscape. I bet this Petra can’t swim, maybe a flood is in order. I could submerge everything as far as the eye can see—it wouldn’t be the first time. Just to be sure, I could do both of them together. Maybe a few volcanoes to make the air unbreathable. Nothing would survive but I would be rid of one demon. I can handle it myself but attrition has to be considered. I made the Keepers to be surgical instruments. I don’t want to have to decimate entire populations to handle a relatively small threat. Normally these demons kill and eat. It’s inconvenient but little more than a nuisance. This is different, this is affecting me directly, and it can’t continue, no matter the cost. For me to handle it means destruction on a massive scale. I need you to take care of it and I need to know right now if you are incapable for any reason.”
“I see. I will handle it, I just need a little time,” I said looking out at the Atlanta skyline ahead of me and me imagining what it would look like underwater. “You really used to fight demons?”
“You should see what I have tucked away in here,” she said patting the mountain with her foot. Again her face dropped. “I’ve lost you again. If you can hear me I’ll give you three days and then I handle it myself.”
Clouds formed in the sky out of nowhere, white at first but quickly turning dark and heavy. The wind picked up, bending the trees and throwing leaves. Lightning streaked across the sky as rain started to fall. I could see and hear it all but none of it touched me. The rain and wind passed through me. I stood and hobbled over to Thera. I reached out a hand but didn’t see the unevenness in the rock before I stepped on it. My already weakened ankle twisted, sending me off balance. Since the leg I needed to take a step with wasn’t working at the moment. I fell backward onto the slope and started sliding. I clawed at the rock but it was smooth and slick, I couldn’t get a grip. I looked up and reached out for Thera just as I slid over the edge. She probably couldn’t see me, but if she could she didn’t pu
t any effort into helping me. I flipped, falling face first, wind rushing over me with the ground coming up fast. A large boulder barreled towards me, or I at it as the case may be, at an alarming rate with no way to stop. Panic set in and I scrambled for any way out. I flapped my arms and tried to grab a tree growing out of the cliff face but nothing came except the boulder. I had never fallen from this height before; I wasn’t sure I could live through it. I closed my eyes tight and waited for the impact.
C H A P T E R • 11
The wind stopped. I didn’t feel any impact, no bone crushing injuries. I opened my eyes to find a boulder a few feet from my face. Without thinking, I brought my hands up to shield myself from the impact. Pain coursed through my body. Not a “pancaking into a boulder” kind of pain, but pain like soreness after a workout where the trainer’s trying to make you cry. I lowered my arms back onto the cot I was lying on and looked again at the rock above me. I knew this rock, it was part of the ceiling in Livy’s house. I had spent many nights staring up at it. She had built her home into a hillside using some protruding rock as walls and ceiling. The gaps were filled in with logs and sealed with a mud mixture, the same way it was done in the old days. To be fair it was still the old days when she built it. I still felt like death warmed up and I couldn’t help but wonder if this boulder would fall free any second and finish the job. It wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.
What Thera said came back to me: something was affecting her directly and she was ready to incite mass destruction to stop it. “Why are all the women in my life lunatics?” I said, trying to stretch some of the soreness out of my neck. I was still in krasis, which didn’t surprise me. The change takes a force of will. It’s hard to do that and be unconscious at the same time.
“We choose who we spend time with, Obie. Maybe you just need to pick better company,” Livy said from somewhere off to my left.
I turned my head and saw her sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. “I’ve got you, so I must be doing something right,” I said.
She smiled, put the knitting in her lap, and laid her hands, misshapen from years of use, on top of it. She wasn’t much younger than me, definitely one of the oldest humans living. It’s probably one reason we got along so well. While she was weathered with age in the winter of her years, I hadn’t changed. I felt bad about it, watching her grow old and her body fail a little at a time.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
I had to ponder the question. So much had happened it took me a minute to figure out exactly how I was feeling. I moved a little and discovered I was sore all over, especially my right side. My body was stiff and I felt cold. Definitely not like a badass Keeper. My right arm and leg were clearly swollen and I could feel some bruising under my fur. And that was just physically. There was a whole emotional cesspool I wasn’t even going to touch at the moment.
“Like roadkill,” I said, grunting my way into an upright position.
The house was one large room with a natural stone ceiling. Being mostly underground, the inside stayed comfortable, if not a little cool, year round. The mud-sand mixture used to fill in the spaces between the logs did a good job insulating. A wood burning stove that Livy did all her cooking on sat opposite the door. She burned wood or coal depending on what she could get her hands on. I had spent many days splitting wood to fuel that stove and I hoped to spend many more.
To the left of the stove was a small kitchen area that wasn’t more than a prep station with some storage and an old-timey ice box. The Coolerator didn’t actually take ice anymore; she had worked some magic that kept it nice and chilly. Who needs electricity when you’ve got magic? A small stream that ran just outside had some of its water diverted into the house through one wall, down a trough, and out another wall back to the stream. Her bed sat against the right wall, with a chest of drawers and armoire placed beside it. It was a nice set I helped her move in about a hundred and twenty years ago, and it had held up well all that time. She had a divider she could put up for some privacy if she needed it but it was in its normal spot folded up against the wall, covered with a thick layer of dust. Farwell was lying in her bed and looked to be asleep.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Not too well. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and got all tore up in the crash. I did what I could for him but he needs more help than I can give him. We need to talk about your parking skills, Obie. You came barreling down that hill and plowed right into my house. It’s a good thing it’s mostly stone or you might have run me down. You did knock loose a couple of the logs on that side.” She extended a crooked finger to the wall by where Farwell was lying.
“I’m sorry, Livy, I’ll fix it. Where’s Naylet?” I said, giving the house another look. “Were you able to help her?”
“I’m sorry, hun. I tried a few things but I think it’s beyond me. You came barreling in half dead yourself, between you and him I haven’t had a lot of spare time. I just about threw my back out getting the two of you in here,” she said. “And lord, that snake head. What have you gotten yourself into? If I hadn’t found it in the truck I might not have been able to save you. I tried everything I knew and talked to the spirits but they weren’t able to help any.”
I wanted to tell her that wasn’t good enough, that she should journey in the spirit world until she got the answer, but I knew she was doing her best. She loved Naylet as much as I did. “Please keep trying,” I said.
“I will, hun, I promise. Besides looking for answers I also was looking for her spirit. Obie, I couldn’t find it. We may be able to fix this, and I hope we can, but you should be open to the possibility that she might be gone.”
“I’m going to fix this,” I said.
“Well, I will do anything I can to help,” she said. “In the meantime, I was just about to take my medicine. Can I get you some tea, maybe a little something to eat?”
“No thanks. I just need to stretch a little,” I said, pushing through the pain to raise my arms over my head.
“Are you still not eating?” she asked. “Let me make you something. You’re nothing but skin and hair.”
“I’m not eating because I don’t need to eat, you know this.”
“Just because you don’t need to doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Life’s short, Obie, enjoy yourself a little. How about a sandwich?”
“Okay, you win. I’ll have some tea,” I said.
I wasn’t going to argue with her about it. She would keep badgering me until I had something, so a concession was good for both of us. She eased out of her chair and walked to the stove where she put in a couple pieces of wood. She took an old coffee tin from above the stove and opened it, taking a pinch of Pixie Dust between her fingers.
Opening the stove, she threw the dust in and whispered, “Fire.”
The wood burst into flames. It was an expensive way to start fires but a lot easier than matches. Closing the stove, she put some water into a kettle from the trough and placed it on top. She walked back to her chair and took a seat. Sticking her finger through the loop on top of a jug beside her chair she spun and lifted it so it rested in the top of her arm and took a long swig. What she called “medicine” was a blend of plants she collected from the forest steeped in alcohol with a touch of magic. She took three shots a day religiously to keep her young, as she would say.
A few minutes later, the tea was ready. Livy was kind enough to let me sit for a few minutes with my tea to process. I didn’t drink it but the warmth coming through the cup felt oddly reassuring. It was the first time I had to think since I found Naylet. What if I couldn’t get her back? What would that even be like? We had been together so long just the idea of her not being around left a big question mark over my entire future. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in my head; I still had a job to do. Besides, just because Livy couldn’t do anything for Naylet doesn’t mean she was beyond help, only that we didn’t have the answer yet. It was out there somewhere, I just had to find it.
“How lon
g have I been here,” I asked.
“You came in last night. What did this to you anyway?”
I relayed the story for the second time, in full detail. Livy listened patiently for me to finish and when I did, I asked her if she had ever heard of anything like Petra before.
“It sounds like a demon from the Old World, but I’ve never run across anything like that,” she said.
“I think I’m going to get Cearbhall to help out with this one.”
She paused at this. “Cearbhall? Are you sure you want to do that? You made a pretty big deal about getting out on your own. Is it that bad?”
“I don’t feel like I have much of a choice. There’s a lot going on here and I’m going to need some help. Thera’s not playing around and the stakes are too high not to,” I said. “Besides, this is bigger than me.”
“How long has it been since you have seen him?” she asked.
I had to stop and think about it. “We were hunting a Siren who was working her way through free love hippies like they were going out of style. Mid-sixties sometime.” I said.
“That’s been a while, a lot could’ve changed since then.”
“And a lot can stay the same. I guess I better take a look at Farwell here,” I said to change the subject.
I set my tea on the floor and stood up, ignoring my body’s protest. Moving hurt, but it’s exactly what I needed to do to get the soreness out. Farwell wasn’t tucked in, more like tossed on the bed. He was lying face up with a dried, greenish crust on his forehead that covered a bloody gash—a salve Livy uses for injuries. I looked over his body to make sure everything was in place. His limbs seemed to be on straight, that was a good sign. There was some bruising on his face and no doubt more I couldn’t see.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said.
I held my hands out over him and concentrated. I could feel the energy moving, slowly at first, funneling through my body, down my arms, out through my hands, and into Farwell. This essence of life, the same power that nourishes my body and lets me get away without eating and sleeping, poured into Farwell, repairing his body. At the same time, the defects and contaminants in his system flowed into mine. A person’s hurt doesn’t just disappear, it has to be dealt with. In healing him I took responsibility for it. It wasn’t a big deal, my system can recover from it much more efficiently than his can. What’s another hour of aching joints when I’m already beat to hell? As the energy grew a light, blue like the sky, began to emanate from my hands and eyes. Farwell groaned and began to stir. As the healing took hold, his eyes opened slowly. Confusion turned into realization, followed by horror. He jumped away from me across the bed and almost made it before the injuries that hadn’t been healed yet got the best of him, sending him tumbling onto the floor. I walked around the bed to where he was lying in a battered lump on his back, holding his chest, his legs propped up against the bed.
