Anais Eternal

by Paige Graffunder

  As Tatiana was largely avoiding me, I spent my evenings curled up on the plush furniture discussing the things that I had read with Etachs. The journals were largely filled with the wonder Elena had felt at discovering her gifts, but less and less frequently she mentioned her bosom companions. One night we were discussing a passage I had read where Elena had made it snow, rain, and hail, and then return to sunshine in one day. I was chattering on excitedly about it, oblivious to Etachs' expression of pensive discomfort. I looked up and paused in my nattering.

  "What is it, Etachs?" I asked, adjusting my position on the armchair to face them fully. Etachs said nothing for a moment, then lifted their eyes to mine. They folded their arms across their chest and regarded me.

  "Ana," they started, then paused as if unable to find a way to say what they wanted to.

  "You can say what you need to. I'm not fragile," I said, cocking my head to the side.

  "Yes, you are," said Etachs flatly, then sighed and continued. "Ana, I know you're excited about all these things that your grandmother could do, but have you even opened the journals from her companions?"

  "What? No, why would I?" I asked, my brow drawing down into a confused frown.

  "Well, I have and, I need to tell you, I am a little concerned."

  "Why?"

  "Ana, have you considered what playing with that kind of power would do to the people around you?"

  "I don't understand."

  "What your grandmother was doing was terrifying. Especially considering that all of them were essentially children. She was exhibiting powers that were potentially dangerous and too big for her, without the maturity to know how to control her feelings or impulses. You read about her invading her friend's mind when she thought one of them might be lying, and sapping enough of the strength from another to render her unconscious for several hours—"

  "That was an accident!" I interjected.

  "That's my point," Etachs said quietly. "While you are older and wiser and gentler than it appears your grandmother was, you have the potential to do harm as she did."

  "What do you mean?" I snarled. I was getting defensive, and I knew it, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

  "I suggest that you read the journals of the other girls," Etachs said and rose from the loveseat, crossing to one of the bookshelves. They pulled a notebook down and handed it to me. "Once you have read it, I want you to come to speak to me again." Etachs smiled at me sadly and ascended the stairs to their room.

  I held the little notebook in my hands and watched them go. Tatiana was already asleep, and Ayesha was roosted on the mantle, enjoying the warmth of the fire. I knew I should sleep too, but I was agitated and knew myself well enough to know that sleep would not come easily. I stood and went to the kitchen, still holding the little notebook, Elena's journal left forgotten on the coffee table. I made myself some tea and thought about Etachs' words. I knew that Tatiana had been afraid of me after I shared with her some of what Elena had been able to do, and when I had told her I had woken the animals in the Glade up, and that she was now working through some feelings about that reaction. But surely, she wasn't still scared of me. Was she?

  I settled back into my chair and pulled my hair up into a loose bun, setting the tea on a small table to the left of the chair. I tucked my legs up underneath myself and took a deep breath. The fire crackling in the hearth and the whisper of the trees in the breeze outside were the only sounds in the house. I felt apprehension I couldn't explain and hesitated, holding the little book in my hands. I took another deep breath and opened the book. I flipped through the pages stopping randomly.

  Day 2,008: If I have kept my days correctly it is June, the middle of summer, but today Elena made it snow. Every day I wake up feeling less and less like myself. I want to leave, but I know Elena will not like it. I think of ways to avoid touching her so she can't see how much I want to go home. I know she will be angry, and I don't want her to hurt me like when she did with the fish.

  Day 2,050: This is the first time I have had the energy to write in weeks. I wake up every morning and feel as though I have not slept. I haven't seen Lemmie, only Elena, who comes to bring me food and water and take me to the bathroom. She is soft and soothing, but there is something behind her face that frightens me. I must be careful to hide this book, and careful to hide my mind.

  Day 2,062: I asked after Lemmie today and Elena said she was outside. I asked what she was doing, and Elena said she was helping the flowers grow. There was something in her face I distrusted. I asked to see Lemmie and Elena said that she would try to get her to come inside soon to visit me. She put her hand on my head and soon I was asleep again. I think she made me go to sleep. I think she may have done something to Lemmie. I need to escape.

  Day 2,100: There are days I don't remember at all. I don't think I am sick, but my magic will not speak to me any longer. I have not seen Lemmie. I don't know where she is. Elena said she was angry with me and would not come, but I know that isn't true. I am too weak to keep writing. I have to get out.

  Day 2,103: I think Elena is stealing my magic. I think she is making me sleep and taking it for her own use. I am too weak to fight. Too weak to write. I want my mother.

  I snapped the book closed, sitting in the dim light of the fire with the hand not holding the book covering my mouth. Tears had begun to flow freely, and I tried to process what I had read. After a moment, I leapt to my feet and went to the shelf. This was the last of Riley's books. And there were none from Lemmie this far down the shelf. I pushed the notebook back into its place and traced my finger back until I found the last book of Lemmie's, which must have been several months before the last of Riley's. I pulled the last book of Lemmie's and found only three of four pages written in. The last entry looked like it had been written by a much younger child, the letters loopy and blocky and penned with great struggle. I read the few labored words and sank to my knees, both hands clapped over my mouth as I silently sobbed.

  Day 1,948: Elena. Oh, Gods. I'm dying.

  I stayed up late into the night reading further and further into the journals, and when Tati descended the stairs the next morning, she found me perched on the counter in the kitchen, hair disheveled, and a pile of used tea leaves discarded in the sink, nose firmly planted in a book. I didn't look up, but I knew she was there. Ayesha was on my shoulder and peering down into the book as though she were also reading. She surveyed the haphazard piles of the journals strewn about the living room, and dining room.

  "Ana..." she started and then paused when I looked up at her through red-rimmed eyes, full of tears.

  "Before you say anything else, Tati, just let me get some stuff out," I said, sliding off the counter and reached out to take her hands. I felt my heart break into innumerable pieces as she flinched away from me. She seemed to see my despair; I watched her steel herself then she did allow me to wrap my fingers around her hands. I felt resistance to my communion. She was pushing me out actively, and I knew I deserved that. "I don't need to come in, I just need to send some of this. It's just too much to say, please," I said quietly.

  Tatiana's eyes roved over my face, warring between good sense and love. As was always the case with Tatiana, love won over. She lowered her defenses, just a sliver, not enough for me to get through, but enough for me to push through what I needed. Her eyes became unfocused as she saw the things I was showing her. I watched with resigned horror as her eyes widened, then filled with tears. When I had finished giving her all I had learned, I dropped her hands and took a step back.

  Tatiana's gaze refocused and she looked at me, her tears cascading like a river down her cheeks. I couldn't bear the pain on her face. I couldn't bear her looking at me like I was a monster. I dropped my eyes to the ground and clasped my hands tightly behind my back. "Tati, I would never hurt you, like she hurt those girls. I wouldn't do it; I don't have a thirst for power. I just want to keep you and me, Etachs and Ayesha safe, and if it will make you love me again, I will just ne
ver touch you again. Because I would rather not touch you than have you be afraid of me." I choked down a sob and blundered forward. "Just please don't leave me, Tati. I need you. I can't do any of this on my own."

  Silence hung in the air between us, and then she crashed into me. Wrapping her arms around me, holding me to her fiercely.

  "I love you always, Ana I would never leave you, not ever." She said her voice thick with tears, "I know you're not like that. I know you could never do those things. But when you told me about the house, and everything, I knew there was something wrong about all of this. I am not scared of you, Ana. I'm scared for you. I have managed to keep you away from the Himlani, and the Humans, and all the dangers of being, but I can't keep you from being you..."

  "That isn't me, Tati," I cried into her shoulder, clutching on to her.

  "We both know that," said Etachs as they descended the stairs. "That is why I wanted you to read more. I am sorry to have caused so much pain, but it was the only way you would see it. This was not a thing either of us could have told you."

  Tatiana pressed a kiss into my hair and set me away from her, looking at me. "Etachs did find something else," she said. "It is just as important as everything else you have read." Tati reached into her pocket and pulled out a sheet of letter stationery. She unfolded it and handed it to me. My eyes quickly ran down the elegant, familiar writing.

  My Dear Anais,

  If you are here, then I am dead and you must be in danger. I have left this place perfectly intact as it was when I was here as a girl. I have also left my journals, and the journals of my friends, so that you may see the terrible cost that the thirst for power can demand. I came here with the two people I loved most in the world, and within five years I had murdered them for their magic. I created copies of them later before I returned, but they were terrible, empty likenesses of my best friends. It did not take long for the copies I had made to end their own lives. I almost think it would have been kinder to their parents to have come back to the pod alone, or not at all. No one else ever knew of this place, except for a lover I had long ago, but now you do as well. You are much stronger in the Manuhiri gift. Latent genes from both your parents have been awakened in you it seems. I can only hope and pray that the love and affection we dote on you, dear child, will be enough to turn your head from wickedness. That you read these journals and explore your magic in a way that does not rob you of your most precious gifts.

  Your gift is not your magic, Anais. Your gift is your love. Without the love of others, and others to bestow your love upon, this endless life of ours is meaningless. I hope you can learn this lesson in a less painful way than your old grandmother. I hope to pass the watch that I concealed the Glade within to you when you are older, and I can't wait to watch you grow into a lovely person. I know you will. I just know it.

  Love Always,

  Elena

  Before I could fold the paper again, Tatiana's arms were around me, then Etachs. We stayed inside, cuddled up on the couch, the three of us, and talked long into the night. It was a rare moment of true comfort for all of us in lives full of turmoil and loss. I savor it still.

  The Illusion of Safety

  I will follow her,

  Care for her,

  Keep her.

  As she hears me,

  Cares for me,

  Keeps me.

  The other has come,

  Scales for skin,

  But their eyes are,

  Familiar,

  Strange,

  Warm,

  Perfect.

  She is mine.

  She is in my mind.

  She is in my heart.

  The other is mine.

  They are my warmth,

  They opened to me,

  Familiar as wings.

  As wind.

  As talon.

  As beak.

  Strange as rain.

  As night.

  As grain.

  As claw.

  I am their rock,

  They are my flock.

  ◆◆◆

  We spent the winter nestled in the cabin, the three of us playing games and reading the journals, and for the first time in my memory, I saw Tatiana use her magic freely. She had taken a long time to ease into the idea that this place could be safe, despite the things that had happened here. I spent time speaking with my magic as well and I didn't think that what had happened before had been a coincidence. Through reading Elena's journals and the books, I learned a great deal about my own gifts.

  There had been some powerful magic introduced into the Fae bloodline, though no one could trace back to the source of The Manuhiri Gift. Elena had done some pretty extensive research and she had found one line, which had been wiped out almost entirely, except for a few people who had not shown the gift. This was the line she could trace to her own. In the years after her return to the world, she claimed to forget about the Glade, but the nickname Elena of the Glade had stuck. She found evidence of a second line, one that also contained the Manuhiri magic, but it appeared that the line had either died young or gone into deep hiding.

  From what she wrote in the books, it appears as though she might have been able to make some loose connection to my father from this second line. Tatiana never showed any signs of the Manuhiri traits, but from earliest birth, I had exhibited more control over my magic. I had done things before I could walk and talk most Fae children only achieve with much instruction and practice. I didn't need to learn to speak to my magic the way most Fae do. I was born knowing how to speak to it, in a language all our own. Knowing that I had two types of magic had come as quite a shock, but it made sense.

  We also experimented with Etachs, to see what they could sense with the sensor net laying against their scalp, and what was invisible to them. If I cast a glamour too different from our normal shape, for example, they could pick that up. Tatiana had not enjoyed this experiment as I had turned her into a Himlani; afterward, she glowered at me and stalked off back to the house. However, when Etachs pricked their finger on a rose bush and I had healed the broken scale, they had been unable to sense it.

  I became acutely aware of the differences in calling these two magics. I had, in my memory, always spoken to my magic, the way that all of our kind does. Looking back through the lens of this new information, I could see the nuance in the calling of Manuhiri magic versus Fae magic. One responded to me, one responded to the words in my head. The day that we met Etachs, I called my magic into the tree. That was the type of magic all Fae had. But when I had healed Etachs, or blown Tatiana and the Himlani apart, that had been the Manuhiri gift. Only in the parts of the book that Elena had written, had the difference ever been mentioned. My grandmother had always been a sort of vague presence in my memories, always there, but never in the same way my parents were there. Always in the background of hazily remembered moments, I wished I had more direct memories of her. But now having read all that she had written, I felt like perhaps I knew her better than I had known the parents that bore me.

  The second book, the one where I found the newspaper articles, had been a kind of scrapbook of Elena's that she started after she returned to the pod and kept up all her life. It was thick and hand bound. I could see the many, many additions of pages she had sewn in, and how many times she had ripped it apart to put a new binding in. The last page seemed to have been written the night of the devastation. It only had one sentence.

  If she dies, all is lost. They cannot see her.

  The book had been sealed magically, to only open for a Manuhiri who was in the Glade. I still didn't know what some of the things meant. She mentioned keeping watch and handing off the watch to someone else. Someone she trusted, a lover, but never really mentioned them by name. I had no idea what she meant. Keeping watch against what? Against the Himlani? It couldn't be. She mentioned it way before they had ever made contact with us. There were thousands of years condensed into this book. It was like watching her life, but only through the
headlines.

  Etachs was becoming a formidable chess player as well. They could beat me out of hand and while Tatiana still won most of the matches they played against each other, Etachs managed to claim one victory in every five, which was more than I have ever been able to wrestle from my sister. I don't think I had one win in every hundred games. Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever won a chess match against Tatiana. She is a master of strategy and while I would love to play the way she does, I don't have the patience. I have never been the kind of person that can lay back and survey the forest, instead of coming to know each tree. I am a sergeant, caring about each troop. Tatiana is a general, caring only for the outcome of the war.

  We also started training together, in the mornings before the perpetual spring days became too hot to be outside. The three of us doing laps around the perimeter of the glade, teaching Etachs to be stealthy in the woods. We sparred with the small cache of weapons we found hidden in a trunk in one of the bedrooms. I became a fairly good shot with a bow, Tatiana wielded knives with deadly grace, and Etachs whirled a staff like a master by the end of the weeks we spent inside the Glade. We ate well and slept well, though after the confrontation we had pushed all three beds into one room, preferring to sleep together. Nestled around each other, we knew that this was where safety lay, in the three of us, with Ayesha keeping careful watch.

  If I had known how precious these days and nights would be with Tatiana, with Etachs, with Ayesha, with my family, I would have savored them. I should have savored them. If I had known how little time would be left to us to be together and safe, I would have done so many things differently.

  The Rapid Tattoo of a Panicked Heart