Silence: Part Two of Echoes & Silence (55 page)

So far, the City of Life was just feeling. I’d walked this realm before, seen the valley, knelt in the River of Life, but never really looked. Never really seen. When I finally lifted my eyes to the wide field ahead, I noticed a long, cobblestone path, lined with white blossoms, and beyond, a gentle glow—reaching high into the perfect, endless blue sky. If I looked closer I could see the shape of buildings within that glow, like a flicker of light you weren’t sure you’d seen, and it gave me a sense of coming home.

“What’s in the city?”

“Souls that have lived a good life—the ones not ready to cross back to the Natural Realm.”

“Can I go there?”

“Not today.” She stepped back toward the gate. “I will take you there one day.”

My wide, childlike gaze fell on the city again.

“You must walk now.” Lilith tilted my chin to follow her aim. “Walk the river bank as far as the eye can see, and when the fog thickens and the trees die, you will hear them.”

“Hear who?”

“The Lost—the Immortal Souls crying for their mates.”

Thin black trunks dotted the riverbank on both sides, shrouded mostly by hanging pink blossoms. They seemed to glow, catching the light like crystals hanging in the sun, rainbows and silver stars dancing in the air around them. I could see the cool, clear flow of the river, rushing in places, trickling in others, flowing in one direction—toward a very distant shadowy place.

When I looked back to Lilith, she was gone, leaving nothing but a whispery breeze behind her as she crossed back to the Natural Realm.

The world on the other side of the gateway mirrored this one, like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking at a reflection of yourself. I could see the tree, David, the baby, but they were all upside-down—the roots of the Tree of Life reaching upward to this world, or maybe down, drinking from the water they lived in on this side.

Lilith stood there behind David, looking over his shoulder at the soulless babe, and a new determination grew inside me, dampening out the tickly feeling. A part of me wanted to stand here forever, but the heart I left behind still wanted to fight for the life I hadn’t yet lost.

With my chin held high, my pale blue dress billowing behind me, I walked on toward the River of Life, feeling hope pass over my skin and through my body like magic.

***

The Spirit Realm went well beyond the borders of Loslilian Island. I walked the length of the sparkling river, its waters calm and almost crystal clear, coloured only by the blue sky and the canopy of pink blossoms, but as the trees thinned out and the fullness of life dulled down for wiry grey branches and thick fog, I didn’t need my sixth sense to tell me I’d entered my Realm—Purgatory.

Something felt amiss here. I couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in my gut, like I’d forgotten something. All around me, hopeless whimpers echoed off the thick fog, but like frogs croaking late in the night, the cries stopped whenever I neared them.

“Hello,” I called, circling on the spot, my breath touching the fog right in front of my face. “I’m here to help you. Just show me where you are.”

Every sound came back as if I were standing inside a small box, and I’d turned around so many times now, I wasn’t sure where was here and where was there. I knew the river was to my right, I could hear it trickling, hear the subtle splashes of slimy creatures swimming its shallow waters. I just didn’t know which way led back to the City.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, or maybe not, a lullaby had been playing—haunting and empty, sorrowful as a sad tale. I knew the tune from somewhere, but couldn’t place it. Perhaps it had been played on a violin by a man named Arthur. Perhaps it lilted from a tiny silver box. Something about it felt like a pull—drawing me somewhere by my heart. I wanted to follow it, but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

I decided then that, not only was I now lost in the fog, but my mind was starting to wander. So I walked sideways, like swimming out of a rip in the ocean, and headed to a place hopefully outside of this fog. I needed to regroup, to think, to process all of this and come up with a plan.

But the fog had no end. I walked for a while, my bare feet hugging the muddy lumps of dead grass, wondering if, at some point, the river had become a swamp.

“Hello!” I called, my voice echoing this time. The space sounded empty, as if there were no trees and no sky. No sun to show the time. For all I knew, sundown had come and gone in my world, and my baby… well, I just couldn’t think about that. She was my hope. My light. My… my light!

It occurred to me then that my mind had, in fact, wandered too far away from me—making me forget the most vital piece of advice I’d been given. Use your Light.

Both hands lit up with the blue glow of my Cerulean Magic, and like looking through the thin smoky fog on a dance floor, I could see the shape of things around me—see the ghostly flickers of souls wavering like thin trees above and all around me. They glowed slightly as I turned my light to them, shrinking away as it touched their forms for the first time.

I laughed, spinning around to take it all in. I should have been, but I wasn’t scared. Not at all. I felt worried for these souls—wanted to stop and help them right now—but there were more important matters to attend. Like, where would Eve be?

She once told me that, if her crux failed, she would be stuck here forever, wandering around and watching those she loves live their lives, never actually knowing who they are or who she is. Paraphrasing, yes, but that was the gist of it. I wondered if she knew—if she’d seen the place she would go—or if she just assumed she would wander around what she implied would be Loslilian.

And that was it! That was the one place I hadn’t looked. Loslilian. The manor. The Other Layer over the Natural Realm.

I just assumed that a lost soul—eternally walking the Fog of Purgatory—would actually be lost in the Fog. But we had ghosts at the manor—I’d felt them. Maybe that’s where she went when her conscious mind left her soul.

As if by pure will, when I imagined Eve standing by the window in her old chambers, a bed and bookshelves manifested around me, the thick fog sweeping away in a light breeze until I was left standing there looking at Eve’s window in the darkness of her empty room. I could hear voices around me, whispers of spirits, mingling with the voices of the living—up and moving for the day. Among the familiar sounds of life, though, I could hear that tune—louder now—each note straining against the metal points within the mechanism.

“Eve?” I said softly. “Are you here?”

“They told me she was my sister,” a very small voice said.

My eyes whipped around the room, but nothing was there. The little wooden horse on the rug rocked on its own, and a gentle breeze blew through the closed window, moving the curtains like ghostly fingers toward me.

Over on the dresser, a sudden snap ended the lullaby, and I looked to see the lid of the jewellery box close.

“Are you talking about Morgana?” I asked no one. “You know, don’t you? That they lied. She was never Lilith’s daughter; never your sister—”

“She was
yours
.”

My eyes questioned themselves as a small girl, no older than five, stood at my feet, looking up at me with a pair of large round eyes, her curly golden hair soft and kind of fluffy, like fairy-floss.

“Eve.” I squatted down to her level. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Yes. Would you like to go home?”

“I am home.” She walked away and jumped up on the bed, hugging the little cloth doll she’d left there.

“But there’s no one here.” I stood up. “Wouldn’t you like to have friends to play with—to climb trees again and feel the wind on your face?”

Her tight little brow indented with thought. “Could I bring my dolly?”

“Eve—” I offered her my hand, “—if you come with me, right now, you can bring anything you like.”

The little girl seemed happy with that arrangement. She nodded once pragmatically and hopped down off the bed, the cloth dolly tucked under one arm, and came to take my hand. “Is it far—home?”

“No, it’s not far. But you may need to walk by yourself for a moment when we reach the green grass. Do you think you can do that?”

At first, she seemed unsure, but on consideration, she gave me an enthusiastic nod and a cute little smile.

“Good girl,” I said, patting her chubby little hand. “You’re going to be happy, Eve. I promise you that.”

“Will I have a new sister?”

My stomach dropped. The true answer would be no. I could never have another child, for she too would be soulless. But I lied and said, “Yes, Eve. You can have a new sister.”

“You promise?” She looked up at me, her eyes filling out with hope.

We manifested by the edge of the River, with the white glow of the city behind us. I couldn’t look at Eve as I deliberately ignored her question. I had to hope it would be a wish that one day faded.

I brought myself down to her height again and took her hand. “We can’t go into this water, Eve, because we need a special door to take you home. So I want you to wait here until I call for you, okay? This is very important. You must not go in that water.”

Her eyes danced on the swirling surface of the River with a look of uncertainty.

“Eve? I need you to tell me you understand,” I prompted, turning her face back to mine. “You must stay away from that water.”

“I will,” she said, hugging the dolly to her chin. “I promise.”

“Good girl.” I smiled softly at her. “Now, when you hear my voice, and I want you to follow it—close your eyes and just follow it. All right?”

“All right.” Her tiny voice trembled a little.

“That’s a good girl.” I stood up and gently stroked her head, tucking my hand under her chin to take a long look at her face. “I’ll see you very soon, Eve.”

***

David walked toward me, leaving the baby safe within the raised roots of the tree. “I was starting to worry,” he said, and when he hugged me, I noticed the white sleeve of the nightdress I’d been wearing when I left this realm.

“No need to worry,” I whispered, holding him so tight I thought I might be hurting him.

“Then you found her?” he asked, his deep voice hopeful, muffled slightly in my neck.

“I did.” I drew back, taking a breath of him with me. “She’s waiting.”

His green eyes sparkled with tears, but he blinked them away, restoring his masculinity. “Are you ready then?”

“I am.” I took his hand, really noticing it, really feeling the wrap of his fingers around mine and the warmth of his skin. After walking the Spirit Realm, everything out here felt magical and more real than it ever had before. The colours were richer, the sounds were more prominent, the sun, even though it was an icy cold day, felt warmer.

While I was gone, the snow had fallen thickly on the forest, blanketing everything in white—except for the small circle of warmth under the tree—and the sun sparkled down on every surface, making magic of an otherwise dreary day.

I knelt down by the naked little baby, her pink skin warm under the glow of the Tree, and smiled at her. So much had happened since her birth, and though I knew she was a pretty little baby, I hadn’t taken the time to really look—to see just how beautiful she was. Her head was perfectly round, with that light tuft of fluffy hair sticking up on top, and her jet black eyes were framed by the longest brown lashes I’d ever seen on a child. I wondered what colour her eyes would be when the light of a soul shone behind them, and as I imagined them blue, I could see they were the shape of mine—her lips mine, her chin, with its very slight dimple, clearly David’s.

“You can use the spell you were taught when you brought the leaf back to life,” Lilith said. “If it helps.”

“But I don’t need it, do I?”

“No. It’s just a way of focusing your power.”

I nodded, looking back down at the baby. I traced a line with my fingertip along the curve of her round cheek and across her pouting bottom lip, moving both hands in then to cup the sides of her head, and with the words of that old spell touching the tip of my tongue, I forged a pathway from the Other Side to this.

No one would see the light within that pathway; no one would feel its warmth or its magic. All I could even feel, as I whispered the name of the child’s soulmate into the magic, was the presence of Eve, like a memory.

I looked down into my child’s eyes, and David laughed beside me. A foggy cloud of black and green circled within them, like a swirling galaxy among billions of stars. We watched as the colours twisted around the blue Light, the black fading as the green grew brighter and brighter. I could see tiny stars among the colour, twinkling as the soul connected to this body, rewriting its fate—re-establishing its future.

When the swirling finally settled and the light burned out, leaving them a very human green, the child Eve was no more. She lived on now as only a memory, a past, giving life to the new Lilithian Princess.

“Green,” David said, reaching past me to slide his hands under her head and her bottom. “She has green eyes!”