The Spiral of Life, page 18
“So what?” Eilean snapped. “She was letting me change my past! Any risk is better than living with what I did.”
“You don’t mean that…”
Eilean looked down at the sword in her hand. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“It’s not good that you’re feeling this way,” Freya said gently. “When we go back, we could get you some help.” She carefully reached out a hand toward her.
“Don’t touch me.”
Freya pulled her hand back and raised them in surrender. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Eilean, you need to calm down,” Bhradain interrupted. “She just saved your life.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Saved me? No, you ruined me. You took away the one chance I had.” She tore off the necklace, the rope snapping easily at her harsh grip. “The one chance I had to be normal and not need a damn necklace to keep me sane.”
Freya stepped toward Eilean again. With a shake of her head, Eilean stepped back and away from her, watching the tip of her sword drag in the mud.
“Why did you stop me?” Eilean asked in a voice so quiet she wasn’t even sure Freya could hear her.
“Because you deserve to live.”
Eilean looked up and locked eyes with Freya. Both of their eyes shimmered with tears. Turning away from her Eilean swallowed a lump in her throat.
“You should have let me go.”
Before Freya could get another word in, Eilean turned and ran.
She didn’t know where she was going, or what she would do when she got there. All she knew was that she needed to find Liana Shade. She was her only chance at changing what she had done.
So Eilean ran. Ran through woodlands, not caring for the branches that tore at her skin, or the mud that sucked at her shoes. Ran down random paths that appeared to her as her feet pounded on the ground. Ran through mist as it swept up around her waist and frosted Phobia with ice. In the back of her mind she knew they still had the deadline for Cernunnos, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d told them she was the wrong person for this job. Now she was just proving her point.
Tears started to fall. They blurred her vision and caught in her throat, making it difficult to breathe without a sob following.
All Eilean could picture were the memories of her what if. Each one haunted her as she ran. She could still feel the could-have-been memories on her skin. The heat of the sun during her lunch with Mamó and Freya. The weight of her dad’s hand on her shoulder as he smiled proudly down at her. She could even taste the coffee on her tongue from a casual day out at a café with no fears of hurting anyone following her.
Her feet hammered the ground so hard it sent shockwaves through her legs and up her torso until her foot caught a root and the world turned on its side.
She slammed into the earth, tumbling and rolling until sliding to a halt with a thud. She didn’t move to get up. She couldn’t. The weight of her tears held her down. Her hands pulled her shirt, her nails scraping against her chest. She didn’t know what she was doing. All she wanted was for the pain to stop.
She didn’t want to be a monster. Didn’t want to be this way. Why couldn’t they have just let her take the deal?
Mud soaked into her clothes, cooling her skin until shivers joined her sobs. Eilean didn’t care. Didn’t care how long she laid there. Didn’t care how cold she was. Didn’t care about anything.
She cried and cried until her tears stained tracks down her neck, pooled at her clavicle and dripped into the mud below. Then she cried even more. She cried until there were no more tears left in her, until she felt numb. Darkness and dirt surrounded her, but it didn’t matter. This was where a monster like her belonged.
27
CRYING IS THE KEY TO (INSERT INSPIRATIONAL QUOTE)
Shivers wracked Eilean’s body as she lay listlessly in the dirt. Her tears had long since dried up. Only waterless sobs and chokes remained as she curled tightly into herself on the cold, muddy ground. She was lost and Liana Shade had not shown herself. Eilean knew she had to get up and keep searching. She just couldn’t move.
Eilean could still feel her pendant in her hand, digging into the skin of her palm so hard she’d be surprised if she hadn’t drawn blood. Bringing the necklace up to her eye line, she looked at its spiral design.
I’ll fix this Mamó, she thought. I’ll find a way to go back and fix it. I promise.
She’d wallowed enough. She had to get moving. It’s what her Mamó would do. She was a woman of action.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Eilean uncurled herself out of the ball she’d formed and forced herself to sit. Then a patch of smog glided past her vision.
Eilean scurried backward and away from it—she remembered the burning in her throat and nose when she’d inhaled the toxic air last time. It was only then that Eilean noticed where she was. And when she got to her feet, she found herself wondering how the hell she was alive.
Smog surrounded her. It hung so thickly in the air that when she raised her arm out in front of her, she could barely see it. It reminded her of those pictures they’d been shown at school of the London Smog back in the fifties.
How have I made it all the way out here without choking? Eilean looked around, trying to figure out where she was. As expected, she couldn’t see a thing. I didn’t even manage less than a minute before. How have I done it this time?
Eilean cautiously began to move forward, holding out a hand in front of her to make sure she didn’t walk into anything. Though she had been breathing without a problem, Eilean still measured her breaths, just in case.
The ground beneath her feet was rock solid. At one point, the earth softened. Her pendant started heating in rapid bursts when Eilean’s shoes began to sink beneath the surface. In panic, she started jumping and leaping to get out of the mud and to a solid surface. Eilean only just about made it, nearly losing a shoe in the process.
Still taking careful steps, Eilean waved her hand in front of her until she felt something solid. Or at least, it felt solid at first. Then an oily liquid began to suck at her hand, the wet, cold material slipping between her fingers and sliding down her wrist.
Eilean tried to pull her hand free. She yanked it but all she could feel was the liquid tightening its hold on her. Dropping her pendant, she used her other hand on her forearm to yank even harder.
It worked. She went flying to the ground. Letting out a sigh of relief, Eilean went to get to her feet. Instead, she collapsed back to the floor and retched.
Crumpled on all fours, Eilean gasped for clean air but there wasn’t any to be had. Spluttering coughs came as the toxic waste choked her. She felt like she was burning from the inside out. Her eyes turned blurry and tears fell down her cheeks.
Her curling fingers felt the wood of her pendant. Desperate to feel its familiar comfort, she grabbed it and pulled it into her chest.
And the tightness in her lungs loosened.
Eilean stayed tucked into a ball on the ground. Afraid of what would happen if she moved. The stinging in her eyes and pain in her throat faded slowly, and she lifted her head from the ground.
The smog was still there, still floating around her and obscuring her vision. Yet it wasn’t affecting her.
Taking her time, Eilean got to her feet. Standing fully, she looked around. How on earth was she breathing in this smog? It was only in the shine of the distorted moonlight above did she see it.
A layer of fog swirled around Eilean’s skin but avoided touching her. It was as if there was a protective barrier keeping it away. But only one thing had changed when it had rushed in….
“I wonder…” she whispered.
Crouching down, she pressed the pendant spiral on the ground directly in front of her. And then lifted her hand.
She choked as the toxic fumes flooded into her lungs. She snatched up her necklace once more.
Eilean looked over the necklace as she stood. It hadn’t protected her when she’d rushed in after Freya, so why was it doing it now?
“This place makes no sense,” Eilean snapped.
The necklace grew hotter in her hand, as if it agreed with her. Eilean stared down at the pendant, confused.
“How…” she started to ask her necklace before realizing how ridiculous this was. “Christ, I’ve gone mad.”
The wood in her hands grew colder, just like it had been the whole time in the Otherworld. Eilean frowned down at the spiral and followed the carving with her eyes. There was nothing about the pendant that stood out as different as before. It looked the same as it always did. Although she had felt it grow warm a few times before, like in the forest just before the fog and gravestones appeared, she’d not really thought about it much. She’d had other problems, after all.
“Can you…” she started again, feeling mad at herself. “Can you understand me?”
A tepid heat pressed against her skin. Eilean let out a dubious laugh. This all felt too ridiculous to be true. Yet as her thumb brushed over the carving and she felt a warmth follow her movements, Eilean couldn’t help but smile. As mad as she felt doing it.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked. Again, the same heat appeared against her hand. She guessed that was the necklace’s way of saying yes.
“Do you know what I want to find?”
Warmth.
“Can you take me to her?”
The pendant grew hot again, but unlike before, only part of the necklace was warm. The right side. Eilean turned in the direction of the pendant in case it was reacting to something in the atmosphere. But there was nothing there.
Warmth came again, but this time at the top of the necklace. Eilean looked ahead into the foggy unknown and then back down to the spiral. “You want me to go forward?”
Warmth touched the center of her palm.
Eilean ran a hand through her hair. Following a heat-powered necklace wouldn’t be the craziest thing that had happened these last few days. Maybe it was showing her the way out.
“All right,” she said nervously. “You’re the magical pendant. Lead the way.”
Eilean followed the pendant’s guidance until she reached a stream. It appeared shallow enough, so she lifted a foot to step in, but the pendant seared hot. When she looked down, she saw how steam rose from the water. Eilean grabbed a nearby stick and dipped the tip into the liquid. When it came out, part of it had melted away.
Eilean used another stick to figure out how wide the stream was by seeing if she could feel the edge of a bank at the end of the branch. She thanked her lucky stars when she did. It didn’t feel far—about five feet wide, Eilean guessed. She took multiple steps back as a run-up, just in case, and leaped across.
As she traveled farther, more warnings came from the necklace as it guided her: bogs of oil where she could have easily drowned, and even an ignited bush that she barely avoided. It was only when the muscles in her legs started to ache that Eilean realized how long she’d been walking.
“Wait,” she stopped in place. “I thought you were taking me to Liana Shade. Shouldn’t she have appeared by now?”
The necklace stayed silently cold.
“Where are you taking me?”
Coolness again.
Is this a trap?
She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and took a step forward. Something wet brushed against her face and Eilean let out a squealing scream. She drew Phobia one-handed and swung the blade wildly.
“Get back!” Eilean yelled, attempting to frighten off whatever had touched her.
Eilean let out a sigh of relief when she realized it had only been the drooping branches of a weeping willow that had touched her. She moved the vine from her face and immediately recoiled.
The willow tree was smothered in a black and brown oozing liquid that slipped down its branches. She’d not noticed it before because of the thickness of the smog but, slowly, the smokey haze appeared to be fading away, showing the tree’s sorry state.
Branches had snapped from the weight of the ooze. The usual green of the willow vines wasn’t visible to the eye, the only color that could be seen was the black of the thick liquid. When Eilean wiped the muck that had been left on her face and rubbed it between her fingers, it felt thick and gooey. Against her better judgment, she brought her hand to her face and smelled it. She gagged at the intense, chemical-like smell. It reminded her of the quenching oil they used at the forge, but worse.
The pendant began to heat up in single blasts. Eilean figured it was letting her know that she had reached her destination. Where that destination was, she had no idea. She couldn’t imagine that Liana Shade was here.
Using her sword to hold back the branches, she stepped through the gap in search of the woman who would fix it all. Instead, she saw a large figure leaning against the tree. It was hard to see in the low light, but its antlers and ghoulish shape made it clear. Eilean had found the wrong monster.
Scrambling backward, Eilean tried to make a run for it, but slipped on a patch of tar-stained dirt. Covered in the oily material, Eilean desperately tried to get to her feet.
Then her necklace started pulsing heat once again.
Does it want me to stay here?
The pendant heated up in succession in response.
Eilean glanced back at the creature. To her surprise, it hadn’t moved from its position. A spot that, if she was right, had the figure staring right at her.
Maybe this creature can help me.
Getting to her feet, Eilean reached for Phobia’s hilt and held onto it. She didn’t know what this figure was like and, as much as she didn’t want to hurt anyone—or thing—else, she would be ready to defend herself if necessary.
Stepping closer, the image of the figure began to drift apart, becoming clearer. Eilean realized it wasn’t one giant creature, but three. A tall man, a deer with giant antlers, and a tightly coiled snake. The three of them were covered in the oily substance, much of it covering the animals’ eyes and mouths. The man, who was the only one moving, worked tirelessly to remove the toxic liquid from the animals, but with his own skin and hands enveloped in the oil, he could not do much.
Safety be damned, Eilean sheathed Phobia and moved quickly toward them. She needed to get them out of the goo. Images of those environmental videos showing penguins and baby seals poisoned by oil spills replayed in her mind as she made it closer to the center of the tree where the three of them sat. Eilean couldn’t let animals suffer like that. She had to do something.
When she got closer, she stumbled to a stop as she realized it wasn’t the deer’s antlers she’d seen. The man, who sat at seven feet tall, had a pair of horns sticking out the sides of his head. Just like the deer’s actual antlers, they were in poor shape. All three of them were, but none more so than the horned man.
“Are…” Eilean swallowed hard as she looked up at the giant man. “Are you okay, sir?”
His furry legs were covered in bald patches, with clumps of hair scattered in the surrounding goo. His great antlers, which stood high and grand above his head, were cracked and covered in the black ooze of the willow tree. So much of the liquid had dripped down onto his face that it had bleached his eyes to a solid white in blindness. And the animals that sat with him looked no better.
The man-beast smiled vaguely in her direction. “I will be well, Eilean. Do not worry about me. It is I who has worried for you.” He lowered his head. “I am sorry for what you have suffered in coming to my aid.”
“What…” Eilean stumbled back. “What do you mean? An-and how do you know my name?”
He smiled at the question, wincing when the action caused his cracked lips to begin bleeding.
“I am the one you have come for,” he said, his voice rough and tired, like every word he spoke was torture. And they probably were. The air here was thick with toxicity, which crept away from Eilean but had no issues swirling around the others. “I am Cernunnos.”
28
WHEN A GOD REFUSES
“What the hell were you thinking?” Eilean sheathed her sword. “A teenager to save you? Really?”
Eilean didn’t expect that to be the first thing to come out of her mouth. She seemed to be making a habit of confronting immortal beings, even though she knew they could likely end her on a whim. Luckily for her, Cernunnos didn’t seem to be doing well.
“I made that call in desperation, but did not choose who would answer it.” Cernunnos coughed roughly into his hand. When he pulled it away, Eilean saw specks of blood on his ooze covered skin. He sighed wearily. “Even immortals fear death.”
“I didn’t know Gods could die.”
Cernunnos leaned forward and tried to brush the fresh ooze from the deer’s face, but, with his declined vision, he kept missing. “Nothing can live forever.”
“What can I do to help?” she asked. She couldn’t stand to see creatures in pain.
Eilean looked around in hopes of finding something to help brush the muck from the God and animals’ stoic faces. It was a gloomy sight to see them being smothered in the tar. Eilean may have been protected for some reason by her pendant, but even with it the heat she felt in the air, touching her skin, made it clear that this forest and the creatures beneath the willow tree were suffering. And from the way the deer was gagging, the air was still as toxic as the ooze. Eilean remembered the metallic taste in her throat and the smell of petrol as she choked after letting go of her pendant. She couldn’t imagine endlessly suffering from it.
“You can leave.”
Eilean stood silently for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”
Cernunnos began coughing again. The cough was so rough that more blood speckled his lips and the fist that covered his mouth. He turned away and spat a clump of tar onto the ground. Leaning back against the tree, he let out a sigh that crackled painfully.
