When Cora didn’t respond, I reached out and laid
my hand over the amulet, ready to place it back in my pocket and go on my way.
Cora’s warm hand covered mine.
“You mean to do this, don’t you child? Even if
it’s unwise?” She eyed me warily, her broken heart heavy in her gaze.
“I have to at least try to find her. I have to
help her.” I replied with certainty.
Cora’s eyelids dropped. She grimaced but her head bobbed
in assent.
“Then you won’t try alone.” She said, her voice
dropping to a whisper.
“But not today. Today you rest. Tonight, at
sunset, you can go.” She instructed solemnly.
Cora settled me in a small guest bedroom with
little to look at but the four blue walls and the Spanish moss swaying from the
branches of a live oak beyond the window. In the calm silence of her house, I
fell into a deep dreamless sleep only to wake to her gentle nudge. Orange light
accented the bark of the oak tree outside the window and cast a warm glow on
the wall opposite the bed.
“It’s time for supper, child. You’ll need the
strength for where you’re goin’ tonight.” She said somberly.
We sat down to a dinner of shrimp gumbo, a meal I
hadn’t enjoyed since I was a child. Cora’s face was stern and thoughtful. She
stared at me in silence from time to time, flashes of sadness and anger
alternating in her gaze.
“You can’t go there whole. You’re too vulnerable
that way. We’ll send your Shadow.” She said evenly.
I choked on my gumbo.
“I… I don’t want to do that. I’ll just go, that’s
what I planned. Just the way my mother did, I’ll go there and face them.” I
argued nervously.
Cora’s head swayed stubbornly from side to side, a
firm expression on her face.
“No. Only your Shadow can slip in without their
help. Your best chance of findin’ your mother is to find Eudora, queen of the
swamp haints, before the scylla catch you. Understand, child, you can’t go into
the haints world whole, unless they take you, but your Shadow, it needs no help.
It goes where it pleases.” She explained.
A light sweat sprang to my brow and I swallowed
the spicy gumbo in large bites.
“What’s the scylla?” I asked warily. Uncle Harold
had mentioned that there would be a queen but he hadn’t said anything about a
scylla.
Cora shook her head and frowned before responding.
“It guards the queen. Tricky thing they is. See the scylla look like different
creatures but really they’re one. They’re clever, can share thoughts and all.
You got to sneak past the scylla to get into Eudora’s castle.”
“Oh… then what should I do, when I find Eudora,
that is?” I asked meekly, feeling the weight of my plan.
Cora reached across the table, her palm up and
arthritic fingers curled inward.
“Let me see it again.” She said quietly.
I fumbled in my pocket for the amulet, pulled it
out and placed it carefully in Cora’s outstretched palm.
“This…” She said staring incredulously at the
amulet, “came from her.” Her fingers stroked the edges of the smooth scarlet
flower.
“Big magic, here, child.” She said her head
shaking, a wry smile spread across her face.
I couldn’t suppress a grin. I’d suspected Cora was
lying when she’d denied the amulet’s significance.
“Some time, long time ago, the swamp haints made a
promise to our kin that they’d leave us be if we shared some of our magic with
them. We did. Now, that was a long time ago and they think there’s no one left
who remembers. But this...” She said with a smile shaking the amulet.
“This here will show them that we remember. Eudora
knows what it means. When you go, you show her this amulet and you’ll leave
unharmed.” She added hopefully.
Cora slid the amulet across the table into my hand
and shoved back her chair to stand.
“Now, come with me.” She motioned with her hand
for me to follow.
She led me through the kitchen and out the back
door to a large covered porch overlooking the backyard. The air was moist and
unseasonably warm for the time of year. Birds called to each other as the sun
fell.
Cora walked stiffly toward the far side of the
porch and lifted a covered pot from a small table then walked back toward the
center of the porch and laid it on the ground. She returned to the table and
retrieved a basket. From the basket she drew nine white pillar candles and
positioned them in a large circle.
The last drops of sunset crept behind the trees,
leaving behind the blue haze of evening. Cora struck a match and methodically
made her way clockwise around the circle lighting each candle. The glow of the
candles lit the space inside the circle separating it from the encroaching
night.
“Step into the circle, child.” She commanded
without looking at me as she rummaged through the contents of the basket.
I stepped through a space between two candles and immediately
felt hot and lightheaded. I couldn’t see past the circle of light as if
everything beyond it had disappeared into a black void.
Cora was kneeling on the ground holding the bowl
between her hands. She tipped it and a mound of creamy yellow powder spilled
before her followed by a cloud of fine dust that hovered in the air.
I coughed, accidentally inhaling the dust.
“What is it?” I asked anxiously waving my hands in
front of my face.
“Hominy.” She answered, without further
explanation.
She lifted her face and stared intently into my
eyes, then reached across the mound and pressed her hand over my heart.
“Your Shadow is your essence, child. It is the
vapor that existed before you met your body and the dust that will move on when
your body doesn’t. When you travel as a Shadow, you will think your heart beats
and your lungs breathe but they don’t. Your Shadow is free in a way your body
isn’t. Your body needs the earth and air to live. Where you’ll go tonight,
there is no earth and no air but your Shadow won’t mind.”
With a slow smooth motion, Cora brushed her hand
over the mound spreading it in an even circle.
“You’ll go to sleep and when you wake you’ll be on
your way.” She said, her voice deep and thick.
Dipping a crooked finger into the grainy dust, she
dragged it toward the middle of the circle leaving a line.
I grimaced but nodded for her to continue. My
stomach twisted at the thought of going to that place that had haunted me for
so many years. I knew the road, the darkness, the forest and the water at the
end of it.
“Don’t you go off the road, you hear? You walk
till you meet the water.” Cora instructed sternly, all the while her finger
traced lines in the grain creating a primitive map.
“When you reach the water’s edge, look for the
flowers, like that of your amulet. They mark the gate. Where the flowers are
thick along the water’s edge, dive in and swim straight down. You’ll find a
white cave, Eudora’s fortress. She rules the swamp haints and she’ll know
what’s become of your mama.” She added her face crumpled with worry.
“Keep your focus, don’t let Eudora snatch your
mind. If she plays games with you, won’t give you an answer about your mama,
remind her of the covenant.” She warned.
By now the map in the hominy looked like a series
of ancient symbols painted on a cave wall. There was a curving line, a row of
connected peaks, a circle and a sun.
“What if Eudora won’t let mother go?” I asked.
Cora’s face pinched and anger flashed in her eyes.
“Eudora has no right to keep Nia even if she was
foolish enough to let them steal her so many years ago. Eudora broke the
covenant. You have the amulet to remind her that there are others who know of
her wickedness. But mind me, child, if she plays tricks with you, leave
directly with or without your mama. Swamp haints can’t be trusted.” She warned
fiercely. “When you leave Eudora’s fortress, swim toward the light and home
will find you.” She said softly, unloading an assortment of pots and vials from
the basket.
“Cora?” I asked weakly.
“Yes, child?” She paused, meeting my gaze with
guarded worry.
“If I can’t get out, what will happen to me?” I
asked hesitantly.
The edges of Cora’s eyes creased and the lines
around her mouth deepened.
“Your heart won’t beat forever, child. Your Shadow
must return and it will.” She said with conviction.
Then taking my hands into her lap, she closed her
eyes and muttered several words too quiet for me to hear. When she opened them
she dipped her finger into one of the tiny pots and dabbed my head, hands and
feet.
“Yarrow, for courage.” She whispered and reached
into another pot.
She sprinkled something over my head.
“Horehound, to protect you from the haints
mischief.” She said crisply.
Lastly, she reached for the small vial.
“Drink this.” She said softly, holding out the
vial for me to take.
I stared at it and froze.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice a frightened
whisper.
“Agrimony elixir. It will help your Shadow
separate from your body. Come now, we don’t have much time. You must go before the
night settles in.” She cooed in a soothing voice.
I closed my eyes and inhaled one last breath
before taking the vial in my hands. The liquid flowed down my throat like fire
and settled into the pit of my stomach like a pile of smoldering coals. I clasped
the amulet tightly and remembered too late to ask Cora how to carry it as a
Shadow. My lips were numb and thick. No sound could escape my throat because my
breath was shallow and detached. Darkness flowed over me like tar weighing me
down pressing me deeper and deeper into the ground.
And then, I was light.
24
The question hanging on my
breath was answered. The amulet swung from a chain around my neck and flopped
against my chest. The next sensation was a chill, a humid blanket of air wrapping
around me and most unnervingly, blowing through me.
When my vision finally arrived the scenery was
nothing but a tunnel of jumbled shapes, like peering through a kaleidoscope.
But slowly, the flat shapes gained depth and definition until I could clearly
make out the ruffled silhouettes of the trees that flanked the dirt road
beneath my feet. The soles of my feet rested lightly on the ground buoyed as if
I was standing in a pool of water. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach as
I absorbed the sensations of a place I’d been before, under equally unpleasant
circumstances. I forced the terror crawling up my chest back into the pit of my
stomach.
This time, I’d chosen to come here and the
creatures in the water, weren’t expecting me. I began to walk. The symphony of
night noises from the forest echoed around me but my footsteps made no sound.
It wasn’t long before the shimmering surface of the water came into view. And
soon after, the road terminated at its edge. I crept along the shoreline searching
for the gate. My fingers found the amulet around my neck and traced the grooves
of the carved flower, studying its shape.
My heart raced at the sight of the first flower in
the water. The gate was near. The water lilies glowed like ultraviolet pearls
in the moonlight, cradled on beds of waxy leaves. Then the scatter of flowers
began to close over the oily black water separating them until there was no
trace of the water beneath only a plush bed of leaves and petals.
I stood before the carpet of flowers struggling to
find the courage to dive to their roots. The amulet on my neck warmed against
my chest, a reminder of its power.
There is no earth and no air but your Shadow won’t mind.
I recalled Cora’s assurance and dipped a toe
beneath a broad leaf growing over the shore. The water was seasonably cold.
Bracing myself for the shock, I plunged the other foot forward into the water
and instinctively held my breath.
A sickening shriek echoed off the trees.
I froze, the cold water lapped around my ankles
and I knew instantly that my plan was shattered. A chorus of chilling laughter
and icy whispers slithered across the water. A tendril shot from beneath the
leaves and fastened around my leg followed rapidly by a succession of other
tendrils sucking at my arms and neck. There was no use fighting it. I was going
down.
Cora was right. I sank into the inky water,
flailing and gasping. The cold liquid poured into my mouth and slid down my
throat. It filled my chest and swirled around my belly but there was no pain like
I’d heard accompanied drowning. The water flowed through me. All my limbs were
tangled in slippery cords that tugged me toward the bottom of the swamp.
After the initial shock and moment of drowning
panic, my head cleared. I searched the murky water for a view of my captors but
all I could see was darkness. It was quiet, the kind of suffocating quiet that
makes your thoughts sound like screams inside your head.
Then from somewhere hidden in the murk, a faint
light reached out from the deep. At first, it was just a fuzzy amber ball in
the distance but as we drew closer, the light spread and I was able to see the
tendrils wrapped around my arms. They were black, smooth and shiny as eels.
The water brightened from blue-black to a peat
stained brown and the glowing ball in the distance slowly split into two
distinct orbs. A wall of white rock emerged like a massive cliff face. The
tentacles pushed me toward a large black hole in the rock marked on either side
by the lights.
“Join us.” The words seeped into my consciousness,
a slippery whisper.
In the growing light, I traced the line of the
tentacles searching the tea colored water again for my captors. They were
surprisingly close.