“There are stories… old stories. It is a very sacred name. Strangely, very few people ever choose to burden their child with such a weighty name.”
David grinned. “I know that as well.”
Onnika turned to gaze at the excitedly laughing blond haired girl even at that moment racing after her new friends, who for some reason had decided that tag would be a far better activity than singing.
"Is she... No, please don't tell me. I don't think I want to know. I do love her, though."
David gently squeezed her hand. “Come, beloved Onnika. It is time for you to go home.”
With a bemused smile, Onnika nodded, waving warmly at the little girl she knew as Jess, who immediately broke off from her friends to come running over to Onnika to give her a big hug. For some reason, Onnika didn't even think the smug looking black cat riding so expertly on Jessica's shoulder was at all odd. Somehow, he just seemed to fit.
“I love you, Onnika!” The blond-haired girl confessed into her dear friend’s skirt even as she hugged Onnika tightly, before letting go with a smile. “I will see you later, okay?”
Onnika smiled warmly and bent down to give Jess a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I love you too, Jess. I hope to see you soon as well. And who is your friend?”
Jess grinned brightly. “This is Midnight! Sometimes I forget, but he always remembers everything! He wanted me to tell you to tell your sister to make lots of yummy fish dishes. Since he likes to eat fish. A lot.”
Onnika nodded. “I certainly will. I hope you will come home soon, dear Jessica. And you too, dear Midnight.”
Jess grinned and her cat nodded. “And please convey my compliments to your chef,” the cat added. “The poached sea bass? Exquisite.”
Onnika blinked and caught her breath. “You talk.”
Midnight shrugged. "Of course. What use would I be to my mistress, if I couldn't speak? Run along now, Onnika. Your soul is finally in resonance with our garden once more, and if you linger too long within the garden of the dead, your only route out will be by rebirth and crossing the rainbow bridge. And that, I'm afraid, would disappoint Jess no end, as she had gone to such great lengths to save you."
Jess gave a sad nod. “Please go home, Onnika. I love you. I want you to enjoy your story!”
Onnika nodded. “Aren’t you coming home too?”
Jess smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay if I stay for a while. The garden misses me!”
Onnika nodded. “Of course it does. This is your garden after all, isn’t it?” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Forgive me, I wasn’t thinking.”
Jess just laughed at that and gave her friend a final squeeze. “Be well, Onnika!”
“Be well, Jezabelle,” Onnika said softly, waving as her friend dashed off again to play with the other children, her cat still perched with utter grace upon her shoulder. Turning, Onnika waved at the lad who had called himself David but whom Onnika suspected was so much more than a simple friendly soul, and proceeded toward the misty corner of the garden in the heart of the wood.
She breathed deep when she felt the curious tingle of the misty fog embrace her. At first, she was afraid it would be chilly, yet it was actually warm and comforting against her skin. Snug, like she was surrounded by fluffy blankets, her head gently resting upon feather light pillows. She then turned over to find to her utter delight that this was exactly so, and curled up in a content little ball, falling into a deep, satisfying sleep.
19
Jess enjoyed her time with the other children, sharing stories from their most recent journeys, playing tag and leapfrog, hopscotch and marbles, deftly shaping toys and baubles out of the ethereal filaments permeating all of existence. What she enjoyed as much as anything else, of course, was tending to her beautiful garden. Tenderly she caressed the petals of roses, posies, poppy and a brilliant profusion of wildflowers that blossomed everywhere the children didn’t dance and sing among the glade. Jess hummed contentedly to herself, though found that for some reason Midnight liked to wander elsewhere when she was in a musical mood. She never could figure out why.
“Because your musical talent is exactly inverse to your other gifts, my master,” he had said once in wry exasperation. Jess had just laughed it off and snuggled her kitty, who had condescended to purr once and lick her cheek before deftly flowing out of her gentle grip and flouncing toward his favorite pool where all the tasty fish he loved so conveniently swam, and as like as not could be seen leaping in the air, as if to present themselves for Midnight’s perusal.
Jess had simply smiled and gone back to her gardening. She knew she was a good singer, and if she tried really hard, quite loud as well. Today, however, she was intently focusing on her latest project, inviting some of the newer children that she hadn’t seen before to come out of the woods and help her in the garden. She smiled and pointed invitingly at the sweet red apples bursting with juicy flavor she had gently coaxed from one of the apple trees she had dreamed into existence, either hours or days or weeks before.
Slowly, shyly, some of the children had come forward, clothing ragged, eyes haunted by unspeakable horrors, many still wearing their violated flesh, the scars upon their souls from endless eons of torment in Hell still too visceral for them to bear to let go.
Gently, along with the other children, Jess had tried to encourage them to join in their games and stories and partake of the garden’s delights. But sadly, few seemed willing.
"It's not your fault, Jezzie," one of Jess's friends from long ago said consolingly. Her smile bright, blue eyes sparkling, she had the benefit of many lives spent experiencing the sorrows, sweetness, joys, and triumphs of mortal life. It had been many eons, after all, since most of the children in the garden had been freed from the terrible place of darkness and despair that had enslaved so many of them.
“But, they seem almost afraid of me!” Jess had only then noticed that her eyes stung with the hot weight of tears. “And this is a happy place! I’m not supposed to have to cry.”
"Poor Jezzie," Her friend teased, giving her a hug. "What's wrong, Queens aren't allowed to cry?"
“I’m not a Queen anymore,” Jess grumbled. “I’m just a girl, like you.”
Though wearing the face of a child, the gentle gaze that held Jess’s own belonged to that of a soul both ancient and humbled by the weight of eons. “No, dear Jezzie. You will always be more than a girl like me.” She winked, her gaze once again that of a child. “Besides. You are Queen of the Garden, and it loves to blossom so, just for you!” She smiled deeply. “I love it when you’re here at the same time I am, the fruits are always so sweet!” She grabbed an apple, sighing in delight at the sweet succulent flavors. “I always love coming here, of course; feeling the summer's warm breeze, the soothing grass underneath, smelling the perfume of all the blossoms. But you know we can’t normally eat unless you’re here, right?”
Jess shrugged. “I like apples. My father has lots of apple trees.”
Her friend gave a bemused nod. "I can tell. Now we do too. Anyway, the other children? They were in the Dark Place for a very, very long time. They probably don't even remember what it is like to smell a rose, or to feel grass tickle one's feet on a warm summer's day. But they have a very sharp sense of power, the better to try to hide when a creature of potency comes near. And you, dear Jess, still have the power of a Queen."
Jess didn’t want to hear this, so countered with her favorite response with which to refute any uncomfortable logic. She promptly stuck her tongue out at her friend who immediately started laughing. “Don’t worry, Jezzie. The ones who are ready will come out of the woods. And when it is time, they will have the courage to start anew.”
Jess grinned. “Race you up the tree!” she challenged, and laughing, the pair of girls did just that, clambering up to the top branches and spending a good portion of their endless day talking about all the exciting adventures they had experienced in their last story. Jess talked animatedly of her valiant battles with fallen diab
olists and demons of terrible power in haunted towers lost in realms caught between dreams and madness, her friend spoke fondly of her beautiful daughters and granddaughters and how much she had loved their father, how gentle and sweet their life had been. This made Jess smile, and she gave her friend a big hug.
"So when are you going back?" Jess asked.
Her friend gazed thoughtfully at the fruit in her hand. “Probably after we finish our apples, and I run around the fields one last time. Maybe then it will be time for me to start anew.”
Jess nodded approvingly, though her friend caught her with a curious look of her own. “When are you going back? You didn’t die, you’re just visiting, right?”
Jess sighed. "I don't know. I want to make sure those children in the woods are okay before I leave. I don't think it's fair to go yet, or they'll get stuck when I go."
Her friend nodded solemnly. “That’s right. You slew that fallen prince, right? And all those souls… so that’s who those children are.”
Jess grinned. “Now if only they like apples!”
Time, though flowing sedate as a summer stream, did slowly pass, and after finishing her impossibly delicious apple, tasting as it did of the very essence of that wondrous fruit, and running with her friends one last time, the blue-eyed girl with the gentle wise soul gave Jess a final hug and said goodbye. “Don’t worry, Jess. It will all work out!” She waved affectionately at a warmly smiling Jess, even as she took her first step upon the rainbow bridge and soon had faded to a glimmer, no doubt being reborn anew at that very moment.
Jess sighed, looked back at her garden, and smiled at last to see countless hungry gazes locked upon her, tormented souls slowly stepping out of the forest and entering the clearing upon trembling feet, whose weeping wounds were still visible, though some, amazingly, had already started to close. As one, they held their hands out imploringly.
Intuitively understanding what they wanted, what they so desperately needed, Jess solemnly placed an apple in each of their hands, gently whispering the word ‘forget' in their ears as they each took a deep crunchy bite of their apples, the children's faces instantly lighting up with ecstatic happiness at the explosion of flavors each crunch of the apples released, so alien to the suffering that had tormented them for so very long.
Within minutes of finishing their apples, each of those sad lost souls blossomed into a smiling child, running with excitement to the great starry bridge their eyes could finally see. In a thousand languages they all shouted thank you, and Jess felt her heart warming with happiness at setting all those lost souls free.
"You did a good thing, little sister," David commended, crunching into one of Jess's apples with an expression of pure delight. "How blessed you are by the Tree of Life."
Jess nodded, smiling. "I'm glad. I'm glad they are free, now. To rejoin life and to be happy, to dream again, to love again, to experience life again."
David's gentle gaze, so full of compassion, caused Jess to blush, her heart fluttering with lightness as if a heavy burden she hadn't even known she was carrying had been lifted from her. "I am proud of you, gentle one. As I have been for a long, long time. Your heart spoke true to you, in aiding these lost souls. But now it is time, sweet Jess. It is time for you to go home yourself."
Jess looked quizzically at the starry bridge anchored with the luminescence of rainbows that stretched out into the vast and brilliant nighttime sky, for all that it had been day, but moments before. Jess gazed at the path before her, where a soul ready for rebirth would begin his journey, once more upon the wheel of life and time.
"No, not there," David gently reproved, directing her gaze with his hand. "Over there."
And that was when Jess caught sight of the corner of the glade wrapped in mist. It looked soothing, refreshing, calling to her as strongly as the rainbow bridge that was now behind her. Hand in hand, Jess and David slowly walked across the field, toward the realm of gentle dreams and from there, wakefulness once more. With a slight pounce, Jess felt the weight of her familiar upon her shoulders once again.
"It's about time," Midnight said. "Malek went back, ages ago. And I don't know about you, but I, for one, would love some poached trout. Oh, and your family is no doubt worried out of their minds about you. It's been another season, you know."
“That long?” Jess asked in surprise as they made their way to the gently tingling mist.
“Yes, dear one,” David assured. “A thousand souls, given hope, succor, and the chance for rebirth in the great wheel of life. It was a season well spent. Farewell, Jezabelle.”
“Farewell, David,” Jess tried to call back, but found her voice muffled, her face deep in the softness of her feathered pillow, and with the softest of sighs she shifted herself and curled up into a happy little ball, snug in soft blankets as she settled back down into a deep, healing sleep.
20
“Jess! Jess! Oh my sweet Jessica, oh you broke my heart with worry, dear!”
Jess gasped in startlement, just barely holding herself in check, panicked reflexes quieting instantly as the sudden grip around her she had been prepared to smash free of in dazed surprise was none other than the grasp of her emotionally wrought mother.
Now relaxed and still feeling exhausted, Jess blinked open weary eyes to gaze upon her mother's distressed countenance. “Mother, what’s wrong? Why are you holding me so tightly?” Jess asked, suddenly feeling a tad concerned underneath her gentle daze. “Is everything okay? And how did you get into my rooms anyway? I never leave my room unsecured.” Jess yawned, taking some moments to blink her eyes open even as her mother just held her close and crooned, much as she had when Jess had been little more than a young lass who would come to her mother whenever she suffered a bruise or fall that needed comforting.
Jess finally took in her surroundings and gently pushed herself free of her mother’s grip, Agda giving a surprised gasp. Even her gentlest push had nearly thrown her mother off balance. Jess easily forgot how strong she was if she wasn’t careful. “Sorry, Mother.” Jess took another deep breath, feeling an increasing sense of disorientation. “Where are we? This isn’t home!”
Her mother gazed at her with concerned wonder, and Jess felt her face flushing for some unfathomable reason. “What? Mother, tell me what’s wrong, please. Why are you looking at me so strangely? Where is my sword?”
“Be calm, my daughter,” her mother gently soothed, softly stroking Jess’s crimson tresses. “All is well. We are at the Turnsby Estates. Don’t you remember? You have been asleep for some time.”
Jess’s yawn was huge. She found herself feeling incredibly sleepy still, and just wanted to sink back into the soft warm pillows once again. “Oh well, if everything’s all right, can I go back to sleep now?” She smiled happily as she lay her head against the soft feather pillows. “Mother, please stop pulling my arm!”
“Jess, my love, you must get up! Don’t go to sleep again, please don’t. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you!” Her mother began to tear up and Jess felt a cold bolt of worry race through her.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” A suddenly wide awake Jess asked, forcing herself to get up. Her yawn was huge.
Her mother gave her a gentle hug, before helping Jess to put on a comfortable cotton chemise and skirt, plaiting her daughter's hair in a simple braid. It was a measure of Jess's state that she did naught but sigh at her mother's choice in attire. "No need to worry about that right now, dear," Lady Agda assured. "All is well as you have awakened safe and sound, as I had so dearly hoped that you would. Come. Let us go downstairs and get some nice food into you. Then we can have the house healer take a look and make sure everything is okay. Here are your slippers, dear. Come now, my sleepy girl. You can lean on me if you must, but let's get some food in you, shall we?"
“Okay,” Jess allowed, “but where’s the water bowl? I want to refresh my hands and face. You’d think we’d have a water bowl to use.” She sighed.
"Oh, honey! The water dr
ied up months ago!"
Jess blinked, gazing at her mother with a niggling sense of dread. “Mother, what are you saying?”
“Nothing, daughter!” Her mother chuckled lightly, and Jess felt a curious sense of dread, sensing right away the gentle fib. There was nothing but love in her mother’s words, no ill will or malice, so it was only her intuitive knowledge of her mother’s tone and inflection that let her know something was wrong.
“Mother, what’s wrong? Is there trouble? Where in blazes is my sword!”
“Jess! You don’t need your damn sword! You’ve done too much with that thing already!” Her mother’s voice rang out, and Jess gasped, startled by her mother’s sharp words.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” Jess asked again, gently.
“Nothing, my love.” Her mother allowed, squeezing Jess tightly and kissing her cheek, eyes still swelling with tears. “By the gods, my child, I am just so, so happy to see you awake!” She gently took hold of Jess’s hand. “Let us head down to breakfast, shall we?”
“Very well,” Jess yawned, thanking the gods that at least the chamber pot was where one would expect it in guest quarters. “I'm almost afraid to ask how long I was asleep, but for heaven's sake, turn around while I take care of much needed business.”
A cleaned and refreshed Jess allowed herself to be led down a rather well appointed hallway. Exquisitely crafted end tables displaying vases, bowls of fresh cut flowers, and similar graceful touches were tastefully laid out throughout the corridor. Jess's silken slippers made no sound on the waxed and polished fine-grained hardwood floor which Jess instantly knew was oak, and the boards seemed content and well cared for. Absently, her hands brushed against the wall, and she blinked, her eyes fully awake. “This manor took damage recently, Mother. What happened?”
Her mother turned to gaze at her daughter, her gaze unreadable. “Do you remember?”
Jess shrugged. “I’m just going by what the wall told me.”
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