Page 24 of Up from the Earth (Equinox Seasons Duet #1)
Twenty-Three
Gather Up Your Seeds they were circles.
Holding out my hand, I called up that power, turning my fingers so that the bodies and skeletons hidden beneath the green would progress further. The newer souls speed through their decay, flesh melting from bone to feed the earth and bone bleaching white from the spring sun. Flowers pushed up through their ribs, and the rest that had been here longer.
And time continued rushing across them. The woven strands of reed and stem covered my fallen ones as muscle and sinew. Chlorophyll and sunlight fed their spirits, winding together the flora and the fauna as their blood. The forest shook, understanding the depth of the working in this sacred place.
“I need you. Please .” I turned my hand still forward, giving that bit of myself that knew the truth. “Rise up with me to strike him down.”
Clouds darkened overhead, my arm trembled, aching to fall. And they were made whole, the stains of malice no longer coloring their remains. The archway in the wood was up ahead, and I looked around to see the family risen alongside me on this day of perfect balance.
“We need to find him. Father Paine remains in the World of Below. He has taken you from your cycle. I cannot return you. But you may accompany me, and remain in the Forest of my castle.”
A figure stepped from the line, a small boy who had once been a member of the priest’s flock. He looked from the greenery-forged deer to the slight fox who now leaped from my hand to greet him.
“He will not go quietly. He only likes quietly.”
The voice was small, a projection of a spirit that had been sliced free of its proper home. I approached him, dropping down to my knees and looking up into the boy’s face of leaf and vine.
“The priest took you from your life. He took…” I peered into the boy’s essence, the scars of torment inflicted still there. “...so much from you. I cannot change the past. But we can reshape the future. He has harmed you. And what has once come before must come again.”
Nodding, the boy seemed to understand. He turned toward the path that led into the trees, and I took up my place behind him. The stag, horns made of brambles and branches, stepped up beside me. I laid a hand on his back, and he did not flinch.
“You are in need of a mount.”
My eyes stung for the memory, but I nodded. “I am. But…wait until we are below.”
Feeling the earth beneath my feet, a familiar white gown draped over my body, I leaned my head back and let the sun radiate onto my face. The wind rustled my hair, slipping around all of us with a silent spell of fortitude.
“It has been a while since I ran. I think it is time I did so again.”
Smiling, I lowered my head and glanced at the deer and the creatures around me. Understanding sailed through the air. I picked up the hem of my dress, dirty with soil just like my feet, and sucked in another breath, so grateful for the scent of bark and ferns and forest.
And then I ran.
T he archway in the wood remained where it had been, and while the path had been the simple way there, I’d proven time and again to enjoy making one for myself. The wind was at our back as we all stood before the entrance, and I hovered my hand over the black beneath the rough-hewn stones. Time and weather had found them often and would.
Strife lay beyond this barrier. I could sense the fury and anguish laid bare in equal measure. The call of my Beast King was silent, and my stomach knotted. I had not felt them since I awoke, and the fear of their loss stayed my feet.
“This is the way through.” The stag insisted.
“I know.” I bobbed my head until it lowered, and I shut my eyes against the rising tension that threaded through my body like slow-acting poison. “I have not felt them. I…I do not wish to face that reality today.”
The forest was silent around me, and I again looked over the host of creatures and spirits who stood around me, at my call to defend a balance and realm they would be connected to from this point forward.
Father Paine would seek out those cracks, eager to exploit them. I needed to be resolute, a wall of ice against an inferior wind. But I was not hard and had never been. My King and my Cerberus lay beyond this gate and they needed me, and I still did not know how to deliver the strike they required to be free of this wretched priest.
“Softness is not weakness.” I looked down to see a mouse, leaf ears and a rib cage protecting a snowdrop. “Seeds persist through winter because they must. Spouts search for the sun because they know there is one to be found.”
With a smile, I lifted the mouse onto my shoulder, feeling that connection to my earth grow.
The priest was metal, plague, and destruction. But he was not the only force that could manifest a storm. Roots push through the ground, unhindered by man-made blocks in their path. Branches reach up to the sky, creating food from the world around them. The cycle turns ever onward, and even Father Paine is beholden to it.
His gifts may not be of the natural order, but he is.
“Thank you.” I swept a finger along the mouse’s little spine, the ridges of bone dancing along my skin.
Reaching for the stag, I climbed aboard, seating myself between his large shoulders, a cushion of moss protecting me from the sharp edges. I looked down at myself. I wore that same gown as the first time I’d run through this gate. It was the same as I was not.
But I had not conjured it.
Wherever and through whatever barriers, something of my King remained, if not all. He was there, and he had found me. It was my turn to do the same.
I leaned forward, whispering into the stag’s leafy ear. “Take me to The Beast King. Father Paine would not want them far from his side. Take me there, friend. There is a battle to finish.”