A Walk in the Forest

by faraboverubies22

Summary:

Claire has made Pelican Town her home for the past 5 years; a flourishing farm, a thriving wine empire, and two brazen junimos make life tolerable. So when someone new shows up in the forest below, the town buzzes with curiosity at the possibility of a new friend. Claire ponders just the same.

Chapter 1: A Clearance

 

 

 

She was pulling the weeds up from the ground when she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. 

"I knew I'd find you here!" Evelyn's voice carried through the trees, wrapped around the branches and found solace within the trunks. The forest accepted her as one of its own. It always had.

After allowing herself to huff through the heavy breathing, Claire smiled warmly at her Nonna.

Evelyn wasn't truly her nonna, but the old woman reminded Claire so much of her real one that the idea of calling her anything else was simply a crime in every existing universe.

"Came for those berries?" Claire asked, continuing to smile. She glanced at the porch behind her and zoned in on the basket of ripe blackberries she brought out earlier this morning.

"Well, yes, but I also came to see someone else in particular," said Evelyn with a knowing grin and a wink. 

Claire closed her eyes and stretched her arms out wide in preparation for the gentle embrace, but it never came.

When nothing happened, Claire opened her eyes and saw Evelyn several feet away, having completely passed her, crouched down at Stinky and Smelly, Claire's beloved junimos. "Two someone else's, actually."

"Good morning, good morning," Evelyn cooed, pinching Smelly's purple cheek. 

"I knew I wasn't special to you," Claire feigned woefulness, a hand flying dramatically up to her face. 

"Oh, shush, you're everything to me, and you know it," Evelyn whispered the last four words, and Claire nodded, knowing it was so. 

"Do you have a basket for Linus?" Evelyn asked while trying to stand up, struggling. Claire jumped in to lift her.

"Already gave it to him," she said, and Evelyn patted her on the shoulder as a 'good job'. 

"Good, good, those are his favorites," Evelyn remarked, and Claire nodded.

The plump pigs from the pen began to oink, and Claire inhaled deeply. "I have to feed the bacon."

Evelyn slapped Claire's shoulder, right where she had previously carressed it, and grimaced.

"Hey!" Evelyn exclaimed, but Claire took note of the sly smile creeping up on her face. 

"I'm kidding, stop slapping me!" Claire ducked, and then proceeded to run away.

Evelyn continued to slap her, her hand pounding down on Claire's back and being brought back up just for it to come down hard again. 

The two began to share a hearty laugh when Claire heard another set of footsteps approaching. 

Turning to the left, she spotted the mayor making his way over, climbing over the junimos, who were attempting to make their greeting. 

"Hey, Lewis!" Claire shouted, waving her arms with fervor. Evelyn waved as well.

Lewis neared the women, Smelly wrapped around one leg and Stinky attempting to jump on the other.

"Good to see you girls getting along as always," Lewis said with a smile. 

"As always," Claire repeated, and Evelyn rested her head on Claire's shoulder, right where she had previously carressed and slapped it. 

"Well," Lewis started, "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I figured you'd want to join everyone in the town square. We've got a newcomer!"

Claire and Evelyn looked at each other, both their eyes widening. 

"Well, let's not make them wait any longer," Evelyn said, and the five of them-including Stinky and Smelly-made their way over to the town square.

 

•

                                                                                

"So," Claire began after several minutes of silent walking. "Who is it?"

"Who?" said Lewis, grinning from ear to ear as if just telling the world's funniest joke.

"Are they nice?" Claire continued to push, hoping to get anything-anything at all-from him.

"Sure," Lewis said, trying not to give anything away, but Claire knew better; her detective senses were at their tingliest.

"Ah, but you just said you didn't know them!" Claire's chest puffed in pride, and Evelyn snickered at her side.

"Just wait 'til you see her, okay?" Lewis said, and Claire raised a brow, a mischievous grin curling up at her lips.

"So it's a she."

"No."

"But you just said-"

"I'm senile, I don't know what I'm talking about-"

"I'm older than you by seventeen years, what am I?!" Evelyn interrupted.

"Young at heart." Lewis shook his head playfully, his sly grin not shying away.

"That's right," Evelyn nodded.

Claire tried to suppress the laugh that was building in her throat, but to no cigar. A loud cackle escaped from her and Evelyn slapped her for the umpteenth time today.

"Dear Yoba!" Claire yelped, grabbing at her shoulder.

"Don't curse, girl, or I'll hit you again!"

A soft chuckle escaped Claire, and then the sound of skin connecting with skin reverberated off the trees.

Claire and Evelyn continued to bicker, but didn't get far in the way of insults before Lewis shh'd them, and the two went silent. They were approaching the middle of the square.

Up ahead, Claire spotted familiar faces. She saw Sam, Sebastian and Abigail first, talking amongst themselves. Then next to Abigail were Penny and Pam, then Jas and Marnie, and several feet away from them were Vincent, Elliott, and Linus. Vincent held a small rock up to Linus, who smiled and nodded down at the boy.

"Thought you'd never show up," Marnie said, looking at Claire first, but then slowly redirecting her gaze on to Lewis.

"Better late than never?" Claire said, shrugging, and then moving in for a hug instigated by Abigail. 

"Nope, being late is completely unacceptable, go back home," Abigail said jokingly before gasping suddenly, spotting Stinky and Smelly behind Claire. Using a baby voice, Abigail proceeded to greet the junimos, both of whom jumped ecstatically at her presence.

Claire grinned before hugging Sam and Sebastian next, the boys saying their own version of 'hello'.  

"So, where is she?" Claire asked nobody in particular.

"Oh, you didn't hear? She took one look at the place and went back to Zuzu City," Sam said, scratching the side of his head.

Claire furrowed her brows in confusion and then turned to look at Sebastian for confirmation.

A stonewall of a face expression was all she was met with. 

Sam erupted in laughter, clutching at his stomach.

"I totally fooled you!" Sam said, crossing his arms triumphantly.

"Yeah, you totally did," Claire rolled her eyes.

"She's over here, Claire, come say hi," Lewis said from behind.

Claire did a full one-eighty and looked for the new face.

Someone stood cautiously behind Lewis, their eyes poking out from his side. 

"Hey," Claire said, bringing her hand up.

The stranger stepped out of Lewis's shadow, coming into view.

Claire smiled and extended her hand to the titian-haired woman before her.

"I'm Claire."

The woman with the braid and periwinkle eyes didn't smile as brightly, but accepted Claire's hand, her warm energy soothing and inviting.

"It’s lovely to meet you," the woman said, her voice coming out deep and velvety soft. 

"I'm Leah."

Chapter 2: The Falling of Leaves, a Blooming of Allies

 

 

 

The day had gone by fairly quickly, what with the party that Marnie put together for Leah, the mingling and socializing that took place, and the chores around the farm that Claire had to do once she stumbled back home.

She told herself the party went well-because it did-but in reality, she wished she had more time to talk to Leah. "It's really okay," she whispered to herself curtly, willing herself to believe it. Everyone was excited to meet the new person, after all.

And so am I, she thought, finally reaching the pig pen and whistling to her sun-kissed friends.

"Miss me?" She squeezed through the team of pigs and found herself at the trough, where she then poured the leftover corn and grapes from yesterday's harvest into the container. Her friends oinked excitedly at her arrival and even more so at their dinner. 

"Thought so," Claire said with a tired grin, patting one of them on their backs and quickly exiting the pen. Running fingers through her bangs, she pondered her next task with a yawn.

She looked down at her wrist to check the time. 7:16pm.

"I should really get those eggs," she told herself, realizing it had been a while since she last checked on the hens. 

Despite the setting sun and her growing fatigue, Claire trekked across the grass and passed the cows in their pasture, mooing at them.

At the coop, Claire leaned against the door that would lead her inside. Though she had been at this farming gig for years, the exhaustion never ceased. Not even after when all the chores were done, dinner was made, the jukebox was playing and she was relaxing by the fire.

"What do you got for me?" She threw open the door and received several startled clucks from the hens around her. 

"A couple for me," she muttered while grabbing at the eggs, "and a couple for the machine."

She was at the end of the coop now, one last nest full of eggs for her already full basket.

A knock sounded at the coop door, startling Claire, her hand flying up in the air, and the two eggs she had been holding went flying just as quickly to the floor, cracking near her feet.

"Oh, shoot!" Someone said at the door.

Spinning around, Claire found herself gawking at a stranger, and then at the hens, who were thrown into a frenzy at the sound of the eggs hitting the floor.

"Sorry-yikes, my bad!" The newcomer raised one of her legs to keep a hen from pecking at her foot. Just as she did, however, another startled hen decided to commemorate the event by squawking loudly, which in turned caused the rest of the hens to start singing their song.

"You guys are fine," Claire preached to them in an attempt to settle the noise. Walking through their dramatic performance, she neared Leah and made a gesture for outside.

Once they made it out, Claire shut the door and turned around, grinning sympathetically. Leah laughed nervously, running her hand several times over her perfectly intact braid.

"Sorry for the hens, they're not used to people," Claire said, setting the basket of eggs down at her feet.

"Well," Leah began, suddenly shy, "no need to apologize."
"I did kind of barge in unannounced."

"Don't blame yourself entirely-I did drop the eggs," Claire said, and they shared a soft laugh.

"So," Claire started after the laughter died down, "why did you barge in?"

Leah looked at Claire sheepishly before reaching into her satchel and pulling out an amethyst crested envelope. The intricate and sinuous design was instantly recognized by Claire as one of Abigail's.

"Abigail sent you?" Claire asked.

The woman nodded, extending her arm. Claire removed the envelope from her palm and inspected it quietly.

"I was leaving the party tonight when she spotted me. Told me to give this to you.” Leah shrugged.

The woman then pursed her lips in confusion. “And I may be wrong here-not entirely sure-but it seems like everyone knows where I live already.”

Claire offered the newcomer the second sympathetic smile of the night and then proceeded to shrug herself. “Knowing Pelican Town, and the people who live here, I wouldn’t be surprised."

“I’m guessing Abigail found out through Lewis or something," Claire told her. "That you live nearby. At least I’m guessing you do. There's an empty house sitting south of here.”

Leah nodded. “That's me.”

”Well, great.” Claire nodded, tapping her palms against her legs.

The two stood side by side, silently, with nothing else to say to each other.

Leah clasped her hands together, and Claire blew air into her bangs. 

"Well, have a good night," said Leah, who spinned around, nearly running away.

"Good night!" Claire called out to her, but the woman with the freckled arms was already too far away to hear her. 

 

•

 

The door to the farm slammed open and Claire breathed a deep sigh of relief. The furnace had been warming all day in this autumn season, just waiting for her return, and here she was, her boots dirty, her back sweaty, and a warm sensation of accomplishment washed over her. Her day was done. 

Well, almost.

Nearing the fire, Claire removed herself from her boots, taking them off one by one and setting them down by the sectional. A thought occurred to her just then; pursed lips, a crinkling of a brow.

"Where are my--." she started, but was instantly interrupted by the sound of her front door opening and then hitting the wall.

On guard, Claire turned swiftly on her heel, expecting the worst-a bear, a wolf, or hell, even a rock crab, since several escaped the Mines ever since Marlon left to Castle Village three weeks ago-but in reality finding herself staring down at two familiar tiny faces. 

And then the both of them crashed into her.

She yelped, Smelly latching onto her calf, their nails sharp and full of unintentional purpose. 

"Well, that answers my question." She picked the junimos up but snatched Smelly off of her leg first and brought them up to her face. 

"I left you two to fend for yourself out there, huh. Do you forgive me?" she asked. The green and purple junimos looked at each other briefly before turning back to Claire. They smiled brightly at her in unison.

They had accepted her apology.

In their attempt at showing her, Smelly quickly found Claire's face with their nails again, scratching her cheek. It was their way of giving her a hug, Claire knew, but at the expense of her poor cheek, no less. 

Stinky simply stared up at Claire, their curious vision orbs penetrating Claire deeply. Stinky was simply content in being held.

She put her magical companions down on the floor, and the green and purple blobs of joy raced to their beds near the fire, which were really just two heavily used scarves that Claire nearly threw away years ago. "Thank god I kept those," she said, sitting down on the couch and smiling at her sleepy mini protectors, their eyes struggling to stay open.

Claire felt more than ready to doze off herself, but at the last moment, right before she slipped into peaceful slumber, she jolted forward. 

"Abigail!" She exclaimed, startling the junimos.

"Sorry!" She whispered. The junimos seemed concerned at first, their squeaking sudden and exasperated. But when they saw Claire, who seemed perfectly fine and still intact, they offered small smiles of relief and quick reassuring nods, and dozed right back to sleep. 

Feeling confident they had passed out, Claire rose from the couch and tiptoed away from her friends and toward the kitchen table where the letter from Abigail sat.

At the table, the chromatic, violet parchment almost hummed with magic before Claire's eyes.

Having located the envelope, Claire walked over to her toaster in hopes of finding her letter knife.

"Odd," she said, when the counter occupied nothing but crumbs of old food. 

She sighed, frustrated, her search for things lost becoming a common routine at this point. 

Moving into the living room, Claire stared at the space before her, examining every nook and goddamn cranny. 

There, behind Smelly, was a familiar looking, not at all junimo-friendly knife. 

"Thieves," she uttered under her breath, crouching down and picking it up off the floor. 

Back at the table, Claire ripped through the seam, the knife moving at delicate speed. Once it had achieved its job, Claire set the knife down and poked through the contents of the envelope. 

A stack of cash.

"Huh?" She gawked, pouring the wad of bills out onto her hand.

She counted at least three thousand dollars. 

A tiny note had slipped out along with the bills and Claire brought it close to her eyes.

She smiled before even reading it. Abi, you're a sucker for enigmas.

The note read:

 

money for the wine. 

i did say i'd pay you for it, so here you are. 

i slayed thirty goblins and triple that amount of bats for this.

gil almost cheaped me out of my hard earned money, but i think its because i remind him too much of my dad. 

did you know those two have had a long-time running fued since, like, before i was born?

even the wizard seems to hate my dad.  weird.

anyway-

the wine? exquisite. *hiccup*

 

Claire grinned and shook her head at thenote. After surveying it a moment longer, she dropped it back into the envelope and placed it and the bills on the table. 

"I wonder if she knows," Claire said out loud, thinking about the Wizard.

She shrugged, grinned, and a long yawn followed immediately after. It was time for sleep.

In her bedroom, Claire sat on the edge of her bed, the day's events showing up crystal clear in her head. 

Waking up, eating a bagel, feeding the junimos - no bagels for them; though they never cease to try for a nibble however - watering her Roses, Evelyn paying her a visit, the mayor also paying her a visit—

Meeting Leah at the square.

Claire hopped underneath the frog themed blanket that Evelyn hand stitched for her on her birthday last year, and stared up at the ceiling fan. 

Her eyes closed gradually, and she was soon off to sleep, unaware of the junimos stirring out of their sleep and squeaking at the front door.

Chapter 3: Arcane Developments

 

 

 

Claire slammed her fist down on the blaring alarm clock and groaned through cloudy vision. She peeped at the clock with one eye, already knowing what she'd see but dreading it all the same.

7:45.

It was the start of her daily routine and yet waking up to a screaming, unsympathetic device did nothing for her aching bones. At least she had breakfast to look forward to.

Fried eggs, she thought hungrily, licking her lips in anticipation.

But more importantly, toast and fried eggs.

Her stomach protested its hunger at the thought of breakfast, and in a quick bid for silence, she laid her hands over her midsection, hoping the mere skin-to-skin contact would ease the growling. 

She groaned again and rolled her eyes; nothing could help the cries of her stomach like getting out of bed and actually doing something about it. 

Claire yawned and stretched her arms, her body vibrating as each joint and limb prepared for the day's work. 

As she got out of bed, she rubbed the gunk out of her eyes and headed towards her dresser. There, she pulled out the top drawer and grabbed whatever was closest to her and put it over her head. She repeated the process once she reached the middle drawer, and then again at the last, purposely grabbing mix-matched socks.

"For good luck," she reminded herself, pulling them on and walking over to the mirror that stood in the corner. She examined herself and shrugged, the curly ends of her hair bunching up at her shoulders. "Good enough."

A sound at her door startled her, and she went for the knob, twisting it and opening the door. At the floor, Stinky and Smelly jumped up and down excitedly, squealing.

"Morning," she said, reaching down to pat them on their heads, and padded through the short hallway and into the kitchen. 

Suppressing another yawn, Claire opened the fridge, her hand reaching for the egg carton but being stopped abruptly. She felt a tug on her jeans.

Blinking, she peered down at her miniature friends, confused.

"You're not getting eggs again, okay? Remember last time?"

But the junimos continued their antics, their yanking only becoming increasingly faster. 

Claire's brows furrowed, but she crouched down at them and gave them her empty hand for comfort's sake.

"You guys okay?" She smiled warmly at the two of them.

Stinky nibbled softly at one of her fingers and Smelly looked over their shoulder nervously.

And then, in an instant, the junimos seemed to have communicated with each other but only briefly before running away in a haste. Claire hesitated, but despite that, a bead of sweat had begun to form at the temple of her forehead.

The junimos were almost always in a state of grogginess in the morning; something with incredible meaning or an immediate call-to-action had to have woken them from their lethargy. Claire followed them.

As soon as she started moving, she realized they were taking her to the front door. Claire saw her junimos hop up and down several times before one jumped on top of the other and smacked the door knob repeatedly.

"You want to go outside?" Claire stood staring at the knob, and then back to the junimos; Smelly nodded slowly,  their eyes full of excitement. Or was it fear?

Deciding to humor them, she reached for the lock and switched it to the left, opening the door. The junimos' squeaking grew louder.

The door opened, the junimos went silent, and Claire saw nothing.

A scattered array of autumn leaves littered the porch, but aside from that - and the cool breeze of today's early morn - there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She looked to the left of her, where her junimos stood, and was ready to call them out for their prank, when Stinky and Smelly made a mad rush out the door.

"The hell?!" Claire ran after them, her socks instantly coming into contact with the muddy ground. She grunted but continued on.

Passing the cow pasture, Claire shouted again. "Hey! What are you guys doing?!"

She noticed the junimos were headed toward the shed. 

And the door to the shed was wide open.

Claire's brain worked in overdrive; what once was curiosity over her soccer ball sized friends dashing out the door was now full-fledged worry for something possibly more sinister.

Stinky and Smelly ran inside, disappearing immediately, and shortly thereafter, so did Claire. 

The inside of the shed seemed normal at first. At the very end of the wall directly across from Claire, the junimos huddled together, squealing louder than Claire had ever heard them squeal before. 

Walking up behind them, she shh'd them, lovingly, hoping to quiet their crazy. 

And then Claire saw what they were squealing at. 

"How'd this happen?" Claire asked, bringing a hand up to her mouth in shock.

There had to have been at least ten broken bottles on the floor, the crimson liquid of the wine having stained the wood flooring.

Kneeling, Claire brought a finger down to the spilt wine and lightly grazed it. The sticky residue triggered her sensory issues and she shuddered in disgust. A sort of calming washed over her, however; whatever was here had to have been long gone by now.

Hopefully.

"Well, that's several thousands of dollars wasted," she said in the middle of standing up, and the junimos nodded introspectively at one another.

"Shame, I think a lot of those were for Jodi, too."

Claire started walking away from the mess and called out to her friends to follow her. As soon as Stinky and Smelly ran past her and exited, Claire took one last look into the shed before closing it behind her.

 

•

 

She had just finished plating her eggs when a knock at the front door was heard. The junimos, who were bunched at the fireplace, halted their eating and began to squeak.

"Don't you dare leave this time," she ordered. The junimos simply stared back at her.

Setting the plate of eggs down at the table, Claire groaned and stared longingly at her breakfast. "Soon," she told the plate, and then headed for the front of the house.

At the door, Claire peeked through the peep hole and saw a smiling Sam on the other side.

Once she opened her door, she offered Sam a quick wave.

"Hey, Sam, what's up?" 

The boy with the golden hair waved back at her and then proceeded to brush his bangs away from his eyes. 

"Nothing new, really. Sebastian and I are hosting another D&D game night, though. You should come. We're thinking next Sunday."

Claire nodded slowly, a sly grin appearing.

"I'd love to." Claire smiled reluctantly before her eyes rolled down to the envelope in his hands.

Sam copied her and then seemed to have remembered the reason he stopped by.

"Oh, uh." Passing the envelope over, Sam grinned.

"This is for the wine."

Claire hesitated before taking it from him.

"The wine? You mean the wine she's not supposed to get until next week?"

Sam shrugged.

"She's having some sort of anniversary party tonight."

Claire bit her lip. Sure, I can go grab it- but it'll take a while for me to scoop up the sticky, globby leftovers and drop them into a bottle.

Claire sighed, dropped her head, and then shook it. 

"Alright, just give me a second," and then she closed the door in his face.

I'll just have to give him someone else's wine. Maybe Robin's? Her order isn't supposed to be delivered until the end of the month.

Claire stood at the door, mulling over her options, when another thought brewed.

I do, however, have two large bottles of Starfruit wine in the fridge right now. 

In an instant, Claire padded excitedly over to her fridge, opening it and pulling out the bottles. 

The junimos tracked her every move, watching her in fascination. And as she scurried off toward the front door again, they looked at each other, their noses wrinkling.

"Okay, hi, it's me again," Claire said, having opened the door again. Sam smiled innocently at her second arrival.

"Now I know they're not the kind she wanted," she said, dangling the wine in front of him, "but since you're here early, she'll just have to be okay with this."

Sam took the bottles and his eyes widened. "Starfruit wine? Isn't this expensive?"

Claire exhaled. "Yes, but it should be worth the amount of wine your mom ordered. And these bottles are much larger, too. Just about three liters each."

Sam nodded to himself and then smiled brightly at Claire.

"Okay, then. I'll take this over to her. Oh, also," he paused, "did I ever tell you about that one time Abigail hosted a Halloween party and someone snuck in a bottle of Starfruit wine? I think I had half of it, but holy moly,"  he exclaimed, his eyes widening again, "I got so drunk that night."

"You didn't, but sounds like you had a good time." Claire smirked, and then turned her head in the direction of her eggs.

"Yeah, seriously, the best night ever. And get this, I even-" 

"I'm sure you're about to tell the most riveting story, but I've got perfectly cooked eggs waiting for me on the kitchen table, and if I don't get to them in T-minus five seconds, my stomach will forever hold a grudge."

Sam looked embarassed, and for a moment Claire felt guilty. But Sam complied and thanked her once more before turning and walking away.

"Thank god," she said, the guilt leaving her conscious almost immediately. After closing the door she skipped across the floor and headed back into the kitchen.

Stinky and Smelly sat on top of the table, inspecting and sniffing the plate of eggs.

"Hey, what the fuck!" Claire yelled, running over to them and swatting them away. 

The two junimos jumped off and Claire swore she heard them snickering all the way to their beds. 

At last, Claire sat down, and dug into her meal, the first bite of runny yolk and toasted rye bread bringing a smile to both her face and stomach.

 

•

 

The day's work was over. The Fairy Roses were succesfully harvested, the pigs produced several truffles, and the cows milked easily today. At the front porch, Claire had her hand wrapped around the door knob, ready to turn in for the night. 

"Hey! Claire!" A voice called out to her from behind.

Claire turned and found herself facing none other than Jodi.

"Oh, Jodi," she mumbled, beginning to wonder if the Starfruit wine was a good choice after all. "Hi."

But Jodi gave Claire a huge smile instead of the disappointment she was expecting. “Thank you for the wine!"

"If you can believe it, it's my all time favorite! You didn't have it in stock when I placed my order initially, so I guess everything worked out, huh."

Claire smiled and nodded. If you only knew what happened to the wine you ordered . . .

"Well," Claire said, clasping her hands together, "I'm glad you enjoyed them."

"Actually, that's what I came by to ask you about. I haven't touched it yet." 

"See," Jodi began, "I was wondering if you'd like to come over and celebrate with us. Harvey, Penny, and Pam are already there. And Robin and Demetrius were thinking of showing up, too. Whadya say?"

Claire rubbed the back of her neck, thinking about it.

"I invited the new girl, too." Jodi said with another smile.

Claire felt silly for piquing up insantly at that.

"Sure," she said, finally.

Jodi's face lit up, a twinkle glimmering in her eyes. "Oh, good, good! Do you need anything before we go?"

Claire patted her pockets. "Uh, I don't think so."

Jodi giggled. "Sure, I think it's just a mom thing to ask, anyway. Well, if you're all set, let's go!"

 

•

 

The women were approaching 1 Willow Lane when Claire spotted Leah up ahead at the front door, standing idly. 

With her hair free from her braid, Leah's curls nearly matched Claire's. She admired each individual tendril. 

"Hey, you made it!" Jodi said, waving. 

Leah turned rapidly, a look of fear washing over her face. But once she saw who the voice belonged to, she softened, a small smile replacing the shock.

"I did," Leah said, waving back, and then looking at Claire, nodding once. 

"Hi," said Claire softly.

"Well, let's get inside! I have spaghetti on the stove." With that, Jodi squeezed her way to the front, leaving Claire and Leah right behind her as she opened the door.

Leah looked over her shoulder at Claire, and Claire returned her gaze. They stayed there for a while, looking at one another, until the door opened and Leah dropped her eyes-severing the trance-and walked inside.

Claire followed right behind, her eyes zoning in on the small, uncovered area of Leah's neck.

Once inside, the smell of spaghetti and garlic bread was intoxicating, and Claire nearly drooled. It had been a long time since she'd eaten anything.

But before she could even think about grabbing a plate, Claire noticed Abigail sitting down on the couch up ahead. 

And Abigail was looking right at Claire, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Claire furrowed her brows. She's up to something, she thought.

And then in an instant, the odd glimmer disappeared and Abigail arose from her seat, heading toward the kitchen.

Before following her, Claire noted Leah sitting down next to an animated Pam and Harvey in the middle of a stimulating discussion.

As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, Claire stopped abruptly, almost smacking right into Abigail.

The twinkle was back, and Claire's brows knitted together in curiosity once again.

"What did you do?" Claire asked. Abigail grinned, the twinkle becoming more powerful.

"Seriously, tell me," she said, egging Abigail on.

Abigail leaned in real close, and whispered: 

"I'm not telling."

"Like hell you're not. You did something, and you-" 

Claire paused, the puzzle pieces coming together in her head.

Her eyes darkened, ready for the attack. "Were you the one that messed with my wine?"

Abigail then appeared very confused, a brow raising, her mouth forming a small 'o'.

"Uh, no? Why?”

Claire exhaled long and hard and leaned against the kitchen wall, feeling tired.

"Something-a bear, rock crab, I don't know-snuck into my shed and had a dance party with my wine bottles."

Abigail's eyes widened in shock. "Oh hell."

Claire nodded then crossed one arm over the other, pondering quietly.

"That's awful," continued Abigail. "I bet it was those rock crabs. Evil little things. Though I’m surprised they got in there, what with Marlon being back and all."

Claire eyed Abigail quizzically. "Marlon's back?"

Abigail nodded. "Yeah, for a couple days now, why?"

"Well, it couldn't have been a rock crab, then."

Abigail brought her hand up to her mouth, her face wearing an inquisitive expression.

"Right, since we all know how Marlon is with keeping Pelican Town safe. If there's a monster roaming, then we know Marlon's either visiting his sister's or he's at Castle Village. Or dead."

"And since none of those are true, maybe it was a bear."

Abigail shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't seen a bear in a while, though."

A couple seconds passed before Jodi entered the kitchen, jumping slightly at Claire and Abigail.

"Oh, you startled me!" 

"Sorry." They said in unison.

"Get a plate, please! I added a yummy Cabernet to the sauce," Jodi said with a wink.

The girls smiled and obliged their host, grabbing plates for themselves and then heading to the living room.

"Wait, why were you acting weird earlier?" Claire asked Abigail.

Abigail continued looking straight ahead, refusing to look at Claire, and grinned. 

"Dammit, Abi, I knew you did something. Whatever it was, I'll figure it out."

"Sure you will," Abigail said, her eyes crossing over to Leah on the couch.

Claire took note of this but refused to push any further on the matter.

"Hi, Claire," Harvey said from the couch, getting Claire's attention. "Did you try to schedule an appointment with me earlier?"

"Yeah, I called earlier and Maru set everything up."

Harvey nodded quickly. "Okay, good, just making sure. The computer ended up crashing at some point today, and your information, including the date and time of your appointment, got deleted. And since it was busy for both of us, Maru forgot your appointment details."

Claire waved a hand as if to quell his worries.

"I understand. My appointment should be on the ninth of November, if I remember correctly."

"Great," Harvey said, smiling. And then he returned to his conversation with Pam.

"Well, I've finished my plate, and I'm exhausted, so I think I'll head home," Claire told Abigail, who nodded and gave her friend a quick hug goodbye.

After making her rounds, Claire exited out the front door and nearly jumped at the sight of Leah standing underneath the gas lantern. 

"Oh, sorry," the woman said, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers and moving out of the way, "I have a bad habit of existing."

Claire stared dumbfounded at first, but then grinned once she saw the beginnings of a smile on Leah's face.

"A joke," Leah pointed out, and Claire nodded.

"Well, nice seeing you," Claire said, and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Leah called out, and Claire stopped, turning around.

The silence permeated through the air and when Leah didn't continue right away, Claire cocked her head to the side. "Everything okay?"

Leah looked nervously at the ground before redirecting her gaze back to Claire.

"Yeah, everything's fine, nevermind. Have a good night!" And with that, Leah hurriedly walked right back into the house.

Claire stood silently, thinking about what just occurred between her and Leah, and then shrugged it off. She turned and headed home.

The walk back was tedious but peaceful; the air was crisp, the leaves rustled against the dirt, and despite the moon being semi-blocked by fog, Claire was content.

When she reached her front door, she pulled out her key and inserted it into the hole, unlocking the door. 

She stepped inside and, at once, Stinky and Smelly were there, squeaking and hopping up and down on her feet.

"What is with you guys today?" Claire leaned down to scoop her jumpy friends up, cradling them in her arms. Though it came at no easy feat, as they moved and continued their squealing. 

But within the dark of the house, Claire stopped, frozen in her spot. 

There was a reason why her junimos were freaking out. The same reason they had to have been freaking out this morning, too, she figured. 

Because there, across the way and into the living room, next to her couch, was an outline of a body, crouched low to the floor.

Chapter 4: Help Needed

 

 

 

The bulletin board was nearly full, but after messing around with different placements, Claire's note fit perfectly inbetween Caroline's workout schedule and Elliott's request for two duck feathers.

ʜᴇʟᴘ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ:

ᴄʟᴀɪʀᴇ ɪꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴘ ʜᴇʀ ᴡɪɴᴇ ꜱʜᴇᴅ—ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀꜱʜ ɢᴜᴀʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴇᴅ!

"Good," she relished, proud of her advertisement. When the angle was just right, she hammered the note into place and stepped back to relish some more. 

The door to Pierre's shop opened out from the inside, and Evelyn stepped out just seconds after, bags of groceries in hand.

"Nonna!" Claire beamed, sliding the hammer into her back pocket before going in for a hug. 

Evelyn chuckled and graciously wrapped her arms around her good friend, her wispy hair smelling like raspberries.

They pulled away and Evelyn moved in front of Claire, looking at the bulletin board with curious eyes.

"Did you have a spill?" Evelyn turned and gave her a wink.

"You have no idea," Claire affirmed, crossing her arms.

"Woke up yesterday morning and a good portion of the floor was all sticky. Some of the bottles must have fallen over. I don't have the time to clean it, because-"

Evelyn waved an arm in front of Claire's face. "No need to explain yourself, sweetie, I get it. You have a lot of responsiblities on that farm," she said. Claire gave Evelyn a broken smile.

"You seriously have no idea." Claire shook her head. "I'm busy the minute I wake up."

Evelyn tittered before patting Claire on the shoulder and then walking in the opposite direction. "Keep up the good work, twinkle toes!"

Claire waved to her nonna and said goodbye, not forgetting to playfully roll her eyes at the nickname Evelyn gave her soon after she moved here. 

The grass had not yet fully dried from the previous night's rainfall when Claire made her first appearance walking into town square. Yielding nothing but a backpack and a cautious grin, Claire stopped beside a pillar, breathing in the morning air and getting a good look at the town. "Different," she said to herself. "This is not Draycott." And for that, she was grateful.

An elderly woman was watering plants from afar, and rose from her gardening to wave at Claire. Something warm grew in Claire's chest. Her first potential friend? 

In an effort to be amiable, Claire made her way over to the garden where the elderly woman was standing, and nearly toppled over a frog minding his business. Claire skipped, lunged- practically danced - across the amphibian, and the elderly woman witnessed it all. 

"Nice one, twinkle toes!" The older woman applauded, clapping her hands wildly.

Claire smiled fondly at the memory. It was a sweet comfort, her friendship with Evelyn, and she held it close to her chest, never to forget. 

With her note now up on the wall, Claire felt a sense of accomplishment. She still had one last task, however, before the sun would inevitably set.

Claire began heading east. At the half-way point on the bridge, she spotted Emily exiting the Blacksmith. With a book in hand, the cerulean haired woman made her way over to the other side of the bridge, and smiled when she spotted Claire. 

"Hey! Nice to see you," Claire greeted, smiling back at her. 

"It feels like years since I last saw you, Claire!" Emily shook her head in amazement, her eyes widening at the sight of Claire.

"I've been a recluse lately. There's always something to do back at the farm," Claire said, Emily nodding.

”And if I’m being honest,” Claire added, “I haven’t been sleeping well. Sometimes I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

”Have you been working too hard?” Emily asked, looking concerned.

Claire laughed lightheartedly. “I’m always on my feet, but my work hasn’t really changed all that much. Oh well,” she said, shrugging it off. 

"I can relate. I haven't stopped tailoring, and my fingers feel like they're about to fall off!"

The two shared a short laugh before Emily recieved a text message and said goodbye, whisking off in a hurry. 

Once she reached the end of the bridge, Claire followed the stream of water until she reached the place she was looking for, opening the door with excitement.

The smell of books hit her nose, and she closed her eyes, taking it in. 

Across from her stood Gunther, who was placing books on the nearby shelves, humming softly to himself, not yet aware of Claire's presence.

Claire walked up right behind the curator, mere inches away from his back and proceeded to clear her throat.

The humming man flinched, a book almost dropping out of his hand.

When he turned around and saw her, he sighed with a twinge of both annoyance and relief.

"You know I have bad ears." 

The woman chortled devilishly before pulling out what she came here for, a gift wrapped artifact.

"Is that..?" Gunther inquired, and Claire nodded her head in delight.

As soon as Claire handed it to him, Gunther began unwrapping it, his eyes widening in eagerness.

"The arrowhead!" Gunther marveled, bringing the artifact up close to his face and examining every inch of it.

"I found it this morning, near the bus. Half of it was poking out of the dirt, and at first I thought it was just a rock. I wasn't going to do anything about it until Pam pointed it out. Good thing she did."

Gunther nodded, his eyes still glued to the bronze-colored object.

Eventually, Gunther brought the item over to one of the display cases and set it down carefully. 

"Incredible discovery, Claire, simply incredible." Gunther shook his head in awe.

"Well, thanks. You might wanna give Pam all the credit, though."

"You let her know I say thank you the next time you see her," Gunther said, finally turning and facing her.

Claire nodded, and the two walked back to the front area.

"Well, now that that's out of the way," Gunther started, walking behind the desk and sitting down in his chair. "What do you have planned today?"

Claire checked her watch. 5:56pm.

"Nothing really. Maybe go home and read a book." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, and hopefully someone responds to the note I left at the board." At that, Gunther raised a brow.

"Note?" He questioned, to which she nodded.

"My shed is gross. I need someone to mop it." Claire gave an embarrassed smile, her cheeks flushing.

Just then, the door behind her swung open, and heavy footsteps filled the room. Gunther poked his head to the side, and Claire turned around. 

With a book in hand, a frustrated looking Clint walked quickly up to the desk and acknowledged Claire with a curt nod. 

"I'm returning this," Clint said, setting the book face down on the counter.

Gunther picked it up and Claire caught a quick glimpse of the title before he placed it on the shelf behind him. Tailoring: The Classic Guide to Sewing the Perfect Scarf.

Suppressing her smirk, Claire turned her face away. Gunther sent daggers in her direction.

"Thank you, Clint. How did you enjoy the book?" The curator implored, taking on a professional tone.

Clint huffed and ran a hand across his sweaty face. "Fine."

"Well, I should be going," Clint said, and walked away, heading for the door.

"Oh, Claire," Clint said, his hand on the door knob. Claire turned to face him, eyeing him questioningly.

"I saw your ad on the board. Do you still need someone to clean your shed?"

Claire nodded slowly at him. 

"I'll do it. What time?" He said, determination lacing every word.

"Uh, I guess whenever," she said, scratching her head.

"I'll do it right now." And then he was out the door, the acrid smell of cold cut steel lingering in the air.

Chapter 5: Abstract Commissions

Earlier

 

Claire knew something was wrong. The goosebumps that littered her arms and back didn't fade away. Nor did the bead of sweat at the temple of her forehead dare move an inch. 

Stinky and Smelly made their thoughts known to Claire, which was to say that they did not make a peep at all. Claire didn't care for their silence, but her foundation-less fear took precedent despite the looming silence.

Tightlipped, she slowly navigated through the hallway that would lead her to the kitchen. Once she reached the end of the hallway, a quiet, albeit distinct thunk from somewhere in the house caused Claire to freeze in her tracks.

The junimos unexpectedly jumped out of Claire's arms and ran towards the front door, their tiny whimpers filling the house. Claire made a noise of surprise - hurt by the betrayal - but in a state of panic and dire need of answers, she raced to the wall that bore a light switch, and flipped the switch.

The overhead ceiling light flooded the kitchen with a luminosity so bright, Claire had to shield her eyes before adjusting to it. Something ran across the living room floor, and Claire's body whipped towards the sound. 

The last thing she heard were the frightened yelps of her junimos before all of her senses were stripped away.

 

Now

 

Claire crossed the bridge and spotted Clint and Emily talking outside of Pierre's. When she finally got close enough, she approached them, and the conversation died down. Emily turned to smile at Claire.

"Hey, Claire! Twice in one day, huh. That's a new record." 

Claire nodded and beamed affectionately at her. Like Evelyn, Emily was a safe space for Claire, someone she could wholly confide in. Someone who carried the promise of safety and wholesomeness everywhere they went. 

Clint looked embarrassed, nervous. His forehead still sheened brightly with sweat and yet, despite his appearance, he also greeted Claire for the second time today.

"We were just, uh," Clint said, searching for words.

"Did you know Clint is interested in tailoring?!" Emily quipped and Clint turned a shade of red.

"We've been trading books with each other. I give him my tailoring books, and he gives me his-"

"Okay!" Clint yelled aggressively, interrupting Emily. 

Claire was about to snort at the situation when, without warning, her vision turned blurry. Her entire body tingled as if it were some unknown electric current, joules of adrenaline and fear pumping through her blood stream right after the other. Her vision worsened.

"Claire, is everything alright?"

Claire could hear Emily talking to her! But try as she might, she was unable to talk back. 

Something changed just then, something different-- but before Claire was even capable of processing it, her vision improved, the darkness slowly, and miraculously, being replaced with light.

Emily and Clint stared back at Claire in genuine confusion, which is when Claire realized she could see again!

"What the fuck?" Was all Emily could muster. Clint continued to gawk at her.

Claire looked at her hands, unsure of how to respond.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she answered, breathless, still looking at her hands.

After a silent beat, Emily shrugged and dived right back into conversation with Clint. Claire rubbed the side of her head; a headache was starting to form.

"Anyway-- it's okay, Clint-- you don't have to feel embarassed. Claire won't make fun of your interest in ballroom dancing!"

Clint brought a palm up to his face and groaned into his hand. 

"Like I was saying," Emily said, facing Claire, "we trade books, and then we talk about what we've learned after we finish them! Tell Claire what you just told me, Clint!"

Clint looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Clint opened his mouth and was about to respond when a familiar face exited Harvey's and started walking towards them.

Stopping right beside Clint, Leah smiled shyly at the group, a pamphlet wedged between her arm and chest.

"Hi, guys!" she greeted, taking turns looking at everyone. Leah finally rested on Claire, who forced a smile in her direction.

"Oh great, Leah is here!" Emily marveled and clasped her hands together. Staring directly at Clint, she looked like she was ready to start spewing tailoring tips. 

Clint nervously looked in between Claire and Leah. "You know, I was just about to clean Claire's she-" 

Emily cut in, gasping loudly. "Oh my gosh, that's right! I don't want to hold you back, so I'll let you go."

Emily started to walk away until she stopped unexpectedly.

"Oh, Clint!" She started, clutching at the book in her hands. "Don't forget to write your questions about chapter four-- that's when the book dives into chiffon!"

Clint grunted, and Emily fled the scene, the scent of her cinnamon perfume leaving with her.

When Emily was out of sight, Leah smiled again, focusing on the two left remaining.

"So, you're cleaning something?" Leah asked, looking with innocent curiosity.

Clint bobbed his head up and down and threw a thumb in Claire's direction. "Her shed."

Leah's eyes then traveled not too far over to where Claire was standing, and nodded slowly, taking in the information.

Just then, Harvey walked out of the clinic, a chart in his hands. When he noticed the small crowd nearby, he headed in their direction.

"Hey, doc," Clint said, sending Harvey a curt nod. Leah and Claire paid their respective greetings to him as well.

"Beautiful day, isn't it? Forgive me, though, I didn't mean to interrupt anything, but," Harvey slowly turned to look at Clint, "didn't you have an appointment with me today?" 

Clint's eyes widened in horror, the blood draining from his face almost immediately. 

"Ah, shit, shit-"

"No need to worry.  Your appointment was scheduled to start ten minutes ago, but today so happens to be a light day. I'll meet you in my office." Harvey then turned and walked back into the clinic.

A flash of concern washed over Clint's face. "I can cancel the appointment, Claire-"

"No, it's okay. Please, go to your appointment. Raincheck or whatever," said Claire.

"Actually, I have some free time," Leah added, zeroing in on Claire. "If you're okay with me helping, that is."

Claire paused, meeting the woman's gaze. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Sorry, Claire, I'll make it up to you later," Clint apologized and waved to Leah while dashing for the clinic. 

Leah continued to study Claire's face, and Claire reciprocated. 

The sound of the clinic door swinging and then closing broke the temporary silence. And then Claire broke eye contact.

"Well, I guess we can start making our way back," she said, motioning in front of her. Leah nodded, and the two walked side by side.

It had been several minutes since anyone said anything, but Claire didn't mind it all too much. The birds were putting on quite the performance, a large group singing just overhead. 

Claire's head started to hurt again, the thumping and vibration of her headache only persisting. She rubbed at her temples, going in a circular motion.

"So, I'm no Dr. Harvey, but it kind of looks like you have a headache there." Leah twirled a piece of hair around her finger.

Claire smirked. "Yeah, it's been really on and off lately."

"Are you drinking enough water?" Leah asked. 

They passed Pam's bus, and Claire stretched out her arm toward the vine-covered fence along the path, her fingers grazing the greenery.

"That's.. actually a great question. I could definitely benefit from a glass or two of h-2-o."

Leah chuckled softly, her finger of hair twirling faster.

"Then let's get you started on that. Might do you some good. Maybe." And Claire dipped her head in agreement.

The path transitioned from pebble and stone to dirt and more dirt, which, to Claire, meant that home was only a couple yards away.

When they passed several oak trees, Claire started to search the surrounding area for something, her head steering left and right, back and forth.

"What-" Leah started, but quickly quieted when Claire threw one of her hands up.

In between a boulder and a blackberry bush, a rabbit and her litter of four kits huddled closely together, an array of autumn leaves making up the rabbit's nest. 

"Oh," whispered Leah, and the two slowly crept towards the nest, their footsteps faint, their hearts growing fainter.

At their arrival, Leah assumed the mother rabbit would flee, cower, or try to shield her babies from the unknown threat. Surely, any presence at all would warrant such a reaction from the mother rabbit.

But as Claire grew closer, the mother rabbit peered up at her and sniffed curiously before hopping towards her! 

Leah watched in awe as Claire bent down to meet the mother rabbit's level and pat her on her head. 

"She likes you," Leah murmured, watching dreamily.

Leah didn't see the small smile appearing on Claire's face. 

"We met a couple days ago. She was still pregnant. I had just finished watering my flowers when I spotted her near my well. I followed her out here and gave her some blackberries. Seems like she took a liking to them. Guess she came back for more." Claire sat down on the grass, and the mother rabbit hopped back to her litter, who squeaked yearningly for her.

”She trusts you,” said Leah. 

Claire nodded. “I guess so.”

”No, seriously, I haven’t seen a bunny do that before. At least, not a wild one.”

Claire’s cheeks turned red, and she chuckled softly. “Feels good to be trusted by a bunny.”

”Well,” Claire started, rising from the ground, “I’m going to start dinner.”

“Oh, should I come back at a different time?”

”Hm? Oh, I promised food and cash as a reward for anyone who agreed to help me.”

Claire brushed the dirt off her jeans before speaking again. “And since you so kindly offered, I’m making arancini!”

Leah stared dumbfounded at Claire. “That sounds Italian.”

”Because it is.” Claire waved goodbye to the rabbit and her kits, and she swore she heard them say their own version of farewell.

”If you like mozzarella sticks, you’ll like arancini. They’re rice, pea, and beef stuffed deep-fried balls. My nonna made them a lot when I visited her in Valledolmo. Sicily.” 

“So you’re Italian?” Leah questioned.

”Half.” And then it was quiet, all the way up to the porch of Claire’s home. 

“Okay, so,” she said, finally reaching the house and leaning against one of the wooden pillars, “give me a moment to grab the mop. Please come in, though. Are you thirsty?”

”I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll wait here while you go do that.”

Claire nodded and entered the house.

At the sound of the door opening, Stinky and Smelly flew up and out of their beds and dashed for the front room, colliding with Claire’s legs. 

“I know, I know, it’s been too long!” She picked her friends up, and they both climbed her shoulders, resting at the nape of her neck. 

When she reached the closet near the kitchen, she pulled the mop bucket out and steered it towards the sink. There, she turned the faucet on and waited for the hot water. 

She paused and took the room in. Across from her was the living room, clean and polished. Almost untouched, it seemed.

The headache she’d been wrestling with today started to decrease in severity. She took a deep, calming breath. Finally, she thought to herself.

Claire dipped her fingers under the falling water, only to immediately pull them back. The water was now hot enough.

After filling the bucket with everything Leah would need, Claire rolled it down the hallway. When she reached the front door, her junimos began to squeak. 

“It’s okay, seriously, I’ll be right back,” and with that, she set her friends down and closed the door behind her.

Leah stood patiently, right where Claire left her, and smiled when Claire reappeared.

”Okay, here’s everything. My shed is right over there,” Claire pointed. “The wine spill won't be hard to miss."

"Oh, also-- there was some broken glass, but I swept it already. If you do spot any glass, however, please be careful. Ideally, you’d mop the floor for maybe twenty minutes and then have a yummy dinner. I don’t plan on taking you to Harvey’s tonight.”

Leah stifled a laugh before nodding. “Well, if I see any glass, I’ll make sure to clean that up as well. Where’s your broom?”

”Just so happens that it’s still in the shed. I think, anyway. Yeah.” 

The two women stared at each other for a moment before Leah nodded to herself. “Well, I’m off!”

”Don’t die from rogue glass particles!” Claire yelled after her.

”No promises!” Leah yelled back.

Claire watched as Leah made her way over to the shed. Once there, she opened the door and disappeared inside. 

The sun had started to set, and Claire breathed in the chilly October air, the mixture of pine, running river, and deep-soiled earth filling her nose. 

After the moment passed, Claire turned, went back inside, and headed for the kitchen, promising her grandmother that she'd make her proud.

Chapter 6: A Glass of Wine

Summary:

~ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦 ~

 

 

 

The onion hit the pan and the sizzle that immediately followed excited Claire. She greedily breathed in the aromatics and sighed contentedly; the dinner was coming together, bit by onion bit. 

As soon as the olive oil was added, she spun around away from the stove and grabbed the loaf of sourdough bread on the counter. Using the knife just beside it, she sliced it in half. She paused. Something was missing. 

“The butter,” she remembered, whipping around and opening the fridge door. 

A gentle tapping on her ankle distracted her, and she looked down to see Stinky staring back up at her, their fingers dancing across the bottom half of her leg in a curious fashion. 

“You smell the food, huh?” Claire beamed, dropping down to a crouch and opening one of her hands. The kelly green junimo hopped giddily onto her palm, their squeaks coming out rapidly, one right after the other, as Claire stood back up again. 

Traipsing across her arm and settling in the nook of her shoulder, Stinky peeped at the pan of hot oil and caramelizing onion. 

“If you behave this time, maybe I’ll give you some,” Claire said, taking the spoon at her right hand side and stirring the vegetable. Stinky bounced in anticipation. 

The junimo scurried down the length of her body and, upon reaching her legs, jumped off her knee and landed on the floor with a soft thud. 

Claire grinned as she watched Smelly enter the kitchen from the living room and pranced on top of their friend, the two junimos peeping excitedly at one another.

Facing the counter again, Claire prepared her ingredients accordingly, placing the tub of butter next to the garlic salt and goat cheese. 

"Claire?" A voice came from the hallway. 

Claire nearly clutched at her heart, the sudden noise scaring her. 

"Hi," Claire laughed through the mini panic attack, and Leah smiled innocently as she approached the other side of the counter.

"I really need to work on not showing up out of the blue, sorry for the scare." Leah bit her lip and shrugged sympathetically.

"Don't even fret it, I think I need to work on my anxiety, if I'm honest." Claire grinned genuinely.

"How's the shed?" She asked, switching topic. Leah began to nod.

"Clean as a whistle." She threw a thumbs up.

"Actually," Lead said, tapping her finger against her mouth, "I can't say I've ever cleaned a whistle. But the shed is clean."

Claire smirked. "Hey, I trust you. You'd do a fine job at cleaning whistles, I'm sure."

Leah walked closer into the kitchen and stood in front of the stove. She closed her eyes. "Wow, that smells amazing, Claire. What are you making again?"

"Arancini. Fried balls of goodness." Claire leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

"Oh," she added, "and I'm making my famous goat cheese garlic bread."

"Who could say no to more carbs?" Leah chuckled nervously and then turned to face Claire.

"Do you need any help?" 

Claire shook her head immediately. "Oh, no, absolutely not. You've been more helpful than you realize."

"Actually," she said, her eyes widening in revelation. Leah's brows lifted in curiosity.

"You can grab the bottle of cherry wine from the fridge. I'll grab the glasses." 

The two went went in opposite directions, one scouring the fridge, the other opening cabinet doors.

They met up in the middle after each mission was complete. The bottle of wine, wine opener, and set of glasses were set down on the butcher block counter, and only mere seconds later, the women sipped at the scarlet beverage.

Leah's eyes closed in bliss, a deep moan coming from her throat. When her eyes opened, she pointed to the glass. "Did you make this?"

Claire nodded, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Do you like it?"

Leah nodded rapidly before taking another sip. When she nearly finished the entire glass, she cocked her head to the side and looked warmly at Claire.

And then, as if realizing that she was staring too hard - because she was - all the warmth left her face and her eyes averted awkwardly.

"That fast?" Claire inquired. Leah furrowed her brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" 

"Did you get tipsy that quickly?" Claire snickered and Leah blushed.

"Maybe? The wine is really good." 

Claire smiled before returning to the stove. "You know, it's been a weird harvest season for my cherries and I'm not sure why. Something must be getting into them."

"Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but don't cherries harvest in the spring?" Leah asked, pouring herself another glass.

"You're not wrong actually. But the cherries I'm harvesting are different." 

Claire added a cup of arborio rice to the saucepan and stirred quietly; thoughtfully.

"See," she said after a moment of silence, removing the cork from a bottle of dry sherry, "I've kind of experimented with my fruits. Last fall, I fused Stella cherries, because they're self-fertile and require absolutely no maintenance, with my plums, which harvest in autumn."

Leah looked amazed as she took more sips from her glass.

"And then I figured out I could make wine out of them," Claire said proudly, pouring in the sherry. 

"How did you manage to fuse them together?" Leah gulped down the remaining wine from her glass.

Turning around, Claire grabbed the measuring cup of hot chicken stock and dropped in two crushed cloves of garlic, all the while wearing a knowing grin.

"That's where my junimos come in," she said, her eyes traveling to the living room.

"Oh, that's right, you have those little guys, huh?" Leah set her empty glass on the countertop and maneuvered clumsily to the living room.

There on the couch, Stinky and Smelly hopped up and down slightly at the new person's presence, the two of them eyeing her cautiously.

Once Claire poured the chicken stock into the pan, she made her way over to Leah's side, taking her glass of wine with her.

"They're a real hoot," Claire said, taking a generous sip.

"How did they, you know, come into your possession?" Leah asked, her eyes fixated on the junimos.

"I was trying to mine one day," Claire started, setting her glass down on the end table.

"It was my first time, and I wanted to prove to Marlon and Gil that I could do it alone." 

Leah's eyes finally found Claire's. "I'm going to guess that you couldn't."

Claire returned the gaze, smirking. "Let me tell the story!" 

Leah threw her hands up playfully and giggled. "Please, continue."

Claire walked over to the couch and sat down inbetween her friends. Stinky and Smelly hopped on her lap.

"I was actually doing pretty well. I was down there for a really long time, finding stone and avoiding rock crabs, that kind of thing." 

"But it wasn't until I found a ladder that took me down quite a ways that I saw these these two, huddled together in a corner, scared." As if understanding her, the junimos held each other's hands, squeaking in unwanted nostalgia. 

"The floor was dark. I mean, really dark. If I hadn’t brought a flashlight, I wouldn't have seen it preparing to attack me."

"Who?" Leah asked, taking a seat and bringing a nail up to her mouth.

"Not a who. An it. I think Gil calls them Golems. Whatever it was, it was freaky and had glowing eyes and would have eaten me, probably. But despite being in distress themselves," she looked down at her friends, "Stinky and Smelly threw rocks at the Golem, scaring it away."

Leah eyes widened in awe. "They saved you!"

Claire laughed heartily. "Yeah, they did. And as soon as we found our way back to daylight, they followed me home, and I thanked them with cheese."

"They've never left me alone since," Claire added, sticking her forefinger out to Smelly, who grabbed at it with their minuscule fingers. 

Leah clapped, and Claire giggled. 

"Encore! Encore!" Leah proceeded, her clapping getting louder.

"Okay, okay," Claire said, getting up from the couch. "The food is almost done. I need to throw the bread in the oven, and then-"

"Ooh, can I do that?" Leah interrupted, her cheeks a bright red.

Claire looked Leah up and down before responding. "Uh, how many glasses of wine have you had?"

Leah stared back expressionless. "Three."

"Three? When did you have three?" Claire asked, amazed.

But then her eyes trailed to the end table and her glass sat there, empty. 

"You drank my wine?!" 

"You're a good story teller!"

"You could have gotten another glass for yourself!"

"I could have," she said, looking Claire clearly in the eyes. "But I wanted to share yours."

Claire shook her head and smirked. "Lame." And she started walking towards the kitchen. Leah followed suit.

"What, you've never heard of 'sharing is caring' before?" Leah teased, grabbing the bottle of wine.

"Oh no you don't," Claire said, swooping in and taking the bottle from her. "I think you've had enough of that."

Leah made a sad puppy face, but when she saw that Claire was serious, she rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair closest to her.

"Good, stay there for me, okay?" Claire grinned before turning back to the pan and adding the ham. 

The long, albeit comforting silence, carried on for the next fifteen minutes. Claire cooking, Leah watching. 

It wasn't until Claire added the last fried ball to the paper towel-lined plate that she whipped around excitedly, her hands waving wildly in the air. "Dinner is ready!"

"You did a great job, Claire," Leah pointed out, getting out of her seat and grabbing a plate from Claire.

"Thanks, you helped." Claire smirked, handing her a pair of tongs. 

"Yeah," Leah scoffed, picking up a fried ball. "By sitting around."

Claire grinned. "You helped by not operating a machine while inebriated."

Leah scoffed again, and then followed Claire to the kitchen table. When they found their seats, Claire raised her glass. 

"To a house not set on fire!" Claire toasted, earning an annoyed look from Leah. 

But the titian haired woman toasted anyway, bringing her glass of water up and clashing it with Claire's.

"To a house not engulfed by flames," Leah said, her arm still extended. "And a lovely dinner between friends."

"A la vita," said Claire, before taking a long sip.

And underneath Claire's chair sat Stinky and Smelly, the two gobbling up their portion of onion and parmesan cheese.

The women continued to chatter, their glasses clunking against the table. They smiled at one another, their cheeks growing redder.

From the wine, of course.

Chapter 7: This is No Peppa Pig

Summary:

oink oink

 

 

“Are you okay in there?” Claire asked, her face pressed up against the wall. The few soft whimpers from the bathroom beyond had concerned her.

“… Yes,” groaned a very apprehensive sounding Leah.

”Did you hate my fried balls?” Inquired Claire with a twinge of sarcasm.

”No!” Leah immediately yelled from beyond the room. 

Claire turned so that her back was facing the wall, and a forlorn expression began to form.

“I loved your fried balls, but I just-“ Leah quieted, her voice cutting off. Looming silence was all that Claire could detect.

”Leah?” Claire asked, nearing the bathroom door again, growing even more uncomfortable. 

“Just give me a second, I’ll be out in a minute!” Leah hollered and Claire sighed anxiously.

Out of respect for Leah and her wish to be left alone, Claire walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Stinky and Smelly stood on top of the table where the two women had just been sitting at not even twenty minutes ago. 

"Hi, guys," she greeted them, nearing a seat and sitting herself down. 

The enchanted friends greeted Claire, bouncing themselves off her chest, one at a time.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked no one in particular, but her junimos peeped innocently in response.

Claire beamed gratefully. “Oh, yeah?” And Smelly nodded thoughtfully. 

“What do you have to say, Stinky? Did I fuck up? I’m very certain the cheese was fresh,” she said, thinking out loud.

But Stinky simply stared up at Claire with their bright iridescent eyes, a sweet ambiguity to them.

”You’re just happy to be here, aren’t you?” And the junimo nodded quickly, a faint smile appearing.

”Hi,” a soft voice from behind said, and Claire flinched before turning around. 

Leah stood only a few feet away, an arm resting against the wood countertop, a nervous smile on her face.

”Are you feeling any better?” Asked Claire, half of her face hiding behind the chair.

Leah chuckled nervously. “I’m fine, thanks. If not a little embarrassed.”

“Was it the cheese? Because I checked, and the expiration date-“

”No, oh my gosh, the cheese was amazing!”

”Too much garlic?”

”No such thing!”

Leah’s eyes flittered across the floor nervously, as if calculating her next words.

”I, um, I don’t eat meat.” Leah said finally, and plainly.

Claire stared ahead, her face unreadable.

So Leah continued.

”Your food was great! I just- I didn’t say anything and that was my fault.”

Claire bit her lip in frustration. “I’m- I don’t-“

”Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal, Claire,” Leah interrupted, taking a few steps forward. “But maybe, the next time you need something cleaned..” she trailed off.

”No pig?” Claire finished for her, and Leah nodded gratefully.

”I still feel bad," Claire added. "You literally watched me add the ham. And you didn’t say anything!” She threw a palm up to her face in frustration.

Leah turned her head away from Claire.

”You looked so enchanted talking about your cherry wine, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Claire thought for a moment before standing up from her chair and moving closer to Leah. 

“That’s nice," she said, resting her arms on the counter. "But not at the expense of your poor tummy, who, let’s be honest, probably hates me by now.”

Leah let out a snort and rubbed her stomach. “She’ll get over it.”

"Regardless," she continued, finding Claire's eyes again, "I tried something new today, which counts for something."

It took a moment for Leah's words to fully absorb, and when they did, a puzzled expression crossed Claire’s face.

"You've never had pig before?" Claire asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

Leah shook her head slightly, suddenly appearing very shy. 

“My diet mostly consists of greens.”

“Huh,” said Claire, drawing circles on the counter with her forefinger. “So would you consider yourself vegan?”

”I think so.” Leah pulled out the barstool to her right and sat on it.

”I grew up on a women’s commune. I was very young, and I don’t really remember a lot of my life or what was even happening at that time. It was me, my mom, and several other women in this small patch of wooded forest in the middle of nowhere. No men allowed.”

”Sounds heavenly,” Claire remarked, smirking. 

Something in Leah’s eyes dimmed, but she pulled away before Claire could even notice.

”It was interesting. There weren’t even a lot of kids. I think there were maybe two other girls, but they were older. Junior high age.”

”Wow. I’m trying to imagine that kind of environment, but I grew up around a million cousins. And I can honestly say I haven’t met someone who grew up on a commune before. Did you like it?”

”I didn’t really have a choice,” Leah scoffed, annoyance flitting across her face but only for a nanosecond. 

“I don’t blame my mom, but at the same time,” she paused, her eyebrows furrowing. “At the same time, it could be really isolating.”

Claire nodded slowly. “What exactly was life like on the commune?” 

Leah inhaled deeply, her eyes casting a faraway look.

”It was mostly fun. The memories I can recall, anyway. You’d wake up, have breakfast with everyone, do your chores— the same kind of stuff you’d do normally, I guess. But,” she took a second to breathe, “on the commune, I didn’t really have a lot of privacy. I took any chance I saw to escape to the river that passed through our community.” 

Claire smiled warmly. “I don’t blame you. I love my space.”

”But,” Claire continued, “you said something about feeling isolated earlier. Interesting how that was a thing, and yet you were surrounded by all those people.”

Leah grinned. “Welcome to my life.” 

“Well," Leah continued, grinning shyly and looking away. "It was my life. Whatever. Privacy was a foreign privilege--the non-suffocating kind of privacy, anyway.”

”So,” Claire began, “obviously you didn’t stay there forever. When did you end up leaving the commune?”

Leah’s eyes drifted away even more, an unidentifiable expression washing over her. She turned away, and somehow, the air in the room felt five degrees colder. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Claire, feeling like she’d just pushed a button she wasn’t supposed to. 

“It’s alright.”

But Leah didn’t continue. Instead, another long moment passed before she patted down her overalls awkwardly. 

“I think I’m going to head home. But thanks again for a fantastic dinner. Don’t worry about the meat thing- maybe it’s a good thing I had some tonight.” She smiled softly before turning and heading towards the front door.

”I’ll walk with you.” Claire followed Leah to the door, the junimos tailing right behind her.

”Thanks again, I’ll see you around.” And with that, Leah opened the door and walked through it, disappearing quickly into the country night.

“Goodnight,” Claire said to her empty porch, the faint sounds of Leah’s footsteps echoing throughout the forest. 

Chapter 8: A Claim For Calamity

Summary:

i s t h i s l o s s

 

 

 

"But you're not listening to me! How is it that I've told you a million times now, and you still won't believe me?!" The crazed woman cried desperately to the man with the familiar smile, her eyes turning a shade of crimson, and the sores on her mouth increasing in size. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't know you," said the stranger, who gave the woman a look that meant 'you're insane' and 'get the hell away from me'. 

The freightful woman stared in horror as the stranger carried on with their walk, the reality of it all slowly dawning on her. She had completely, and utterly, lost her mind.

 

Abigail brought the poorly stapled pieces of parchment paper down to her lap, revealing a mischievous grin. "So, how was it?"

Elliott smiled nervously but slowly raised his thumb. Claire clapped, sitting just beside the beach-dwelling man, and woo'ed enthusiastically for her friend. 

"Thanks, it took me almost four hours to write that," said Abigail, lifting herself off her seat and squeezing the papers in between her arm. 

"I think you did a job well done, Abigail," remarked Gunther, who also removed himself from his chair and headed for the table to blow out the candles. 

The nap-inducing ambiance in the library lifted as soon as Gunther flipped the switch, light filling the room immediately. 

"Creative stories, everyone. Especially the one about the orphaned rabbit who found a family, Penny." Gunther smiled proudly at Penny, who, upon hearing Gunther's compliment, decreased in size and turned various shades of red.

“And Elliott,” added Gunther, throwing a finger in his direction. “When is your next book reading?”

Elliott pulled his long blond hair behind his neck and secured it with the hair tie that hung loosely on his wrist. A stray tendril escaped sneakily from his low ponytail, falling in front of his eyes. He tucked it behind his ear.

”Hopefully next week, if all goes smoothly.” He grinned and headed for the exit.

“Don’t forget to bring my typewriter back when you’re done with it,” said Gunther, rounding his desk and finding his chair. Elliott nodded curtly before leaving the library.

”What happened to his computer?” Claire asked, walking up to Gunther’s desk.

Gunther eyed Claire ruefully. “It’s still unclear what happened to it. He came by a couple days ago in a bad mood, and when I asked him about it, he said the damn thing went missing. How does a computer just go missing? Have ya seen the size of the kid’s cabin?” 

Claire grinned but shook her head; she'd never been inside of Elliott's cabin, admittedly.

”Anyway,” he sighed, “I lent him my typewriter. Said he could use it to finish his book. I hope that computer of his turns up. And soon. I'll be needing it before our next story reading gets here.”

”Strange,” Claire noted, and Gunther sighed heavily once more and nodded, his eyes training on something at his desk.

”Well, sucks to suck,” Abigail cut in, finding her spot right next to Claire. “You want to get a drink at Gus’s?” 

Abigail eyed Claire curiously, and Gunther zoned in on the papers on his desk, no longer paying any mind to the women in front of him.

“Sure, why not. Maybe I’ll see Shane there— I responded to his ad this morning and found the jacket that he lost.”

Abigail nodded and the two started walking towards the exit when Gunther spoke up from behind them.

”Things are goin’ missing a lot lately, huh? Stay safe out there, girls.” 

Abigail scoffed quietly and rolled her eyes, but Claire, while smirking, felt strange on the inside. Things have been going missing (and breaking). And I wonder why.

 

•

                                                                                     

The door to the Stardrop Saloon squeaked loudly when Claire opened it, earning a few curious glances from nearby villagers. On the far left side of the open room, a small mingling of Pam, Jodi, and-- Vincent?-- sat at one of the tables, engrossed in conversation. At the opposite end of the room, closer to the entrance, a tired looking Willy sat contemplating his life over a mug of what appeared to be mead. 

"Welcome in you two!" Greeted Gus from behind the counter, waving a beer bottle at Abigail and Claire. 

"Don't be reckless with that, dude," said Shane from one of the barstools, extending an arm to grab the beer. 

"Found the drunkard," Claire whispered to Abigail, who nodded and suppressed a laugh.

"Pretty sure the guys are here somewhere, so I'll meet up with you in a little bit, okay?" Abigail told her while waving a hand and heading towards the arcade section of the saloon.

"Sounds good to me!" Claire returned the wave and headed for the barstools.

"Hey, Shane." She saluted him, hopping ontop the adjacent barstool.

In mid-gulp, the shaggy haired saloon frequenter turned his head at the sound of Claire's voice and acknowledged her presence with a curt nod. 

"Hi." He ran a sleeved arm across his mouth and looked in her general direction for half a second before returning to his drink.

Claire pulled the Joja jacket out of her tote bag and placed it on the counter in front of him, and Shane's dismissive mood changed significantly.

"You found my jacket!" He practically yelped, setting the bottle down and grabbing at the jacket.

"Yeah! So try being nicer to me, asshat," Claire semi-joked with him and folded her arms.

"Sorry," he said quietly, but amping back up again at the sight of his returned jacket. 

"Where did you find it?" He asked, finally looking her in the eye.

"In Cindersnap," Claire replied, and hailed Gus over to order a Shirley Temple. 

"Huh," Shane trailed off, his eyes darkening.

"What were you doing over there, anyway?" Claire asked, the mug of cherry and Sprite goodness being placed in front of her. 

"I wasn't. That's the problem."

"Well, where did you see it last?" The question earned her a scowl and a rolling of eyes.

"That question sucks, Claire; pretty sure I would have found it if I knew where I saw it last."

"Yeah, whatever," she said, taking a big gulp from her drink.

Shane made a sound of disgust. "Eugh, I genuinely can't understand why you'd want to drink that filth."

Claire raised a confused brow at him before dramatically gesturing at his choice of beverage.

"You're going to sit here and, what, judge me for drinking soda? While you're drinking alcohol?!"

"Sue me," he said, draining the last of his beer, and then getting out of his seat. 

Claire rolled her eyes. "So much for returning your jacket. Where's my payup?"

Shane sighed from behind her. "I'll get it to you when I get my paycheck."

"When's that?"

"When I get my paycheck." And then he was out of the door.

Claire rolled her eyes a second time, and attempted to shake off his energy with another gulp of her drink.

Just as soon as she was alone, Abigail sat down on the stool Shane was on just seconds ago. 

"I saw the whole thing. Ass."

"Ass," Claire repeated.

"Anyway," Abigail said, rolling her eyes. "The Fair is coming up in a few days. Do you have an idea of what you're bringing?"

"Ugh, I completely forgot that was happening soon. I’m not even sure if I want to go.”

Abigail snorted quietly to herself. "Makes sense. Considering what happened last year."

"I don't want to think about it." Claire grumbled, the rim of the mug resting against her bottom lip. 

"I do," Abigail said. "Dad made a fuss about you winning- again, I might add- and decided it'd be a fabulous idea to rage in front of everyone. And everyone knew it was because you had won. Again."

"And Lewis did nothing to help the situation,” Claire added. “If anything, he worsened it by standing around, fumbling around like he hadn't a clue what to do!" 

“And that wasn’t all,” Abigail chuckled.

Before she could continue, the door to the saloon flew open and everyone turned their heads to see Lewis on the other side, a nervous look on his face.

"Will everyone please exit the saloon in an orderly fashion and make their way over to the community center. Please."

Abigail and Claire shared a look. 

"This doesn't look good," Abigail said. Claire stayed quiet.

One by one, the villagers exited the building, murmuring eagerly amongst each other but ultimately following Lewis to the community center. 

At the entrance to the center, Lewis stopped and turned to face the growing crowd. 

Claire nudged at Abigail, nodding at the surplus of villagers joining in. "Everyone is here."

Abigail surveyed the group, and sure enough, Claire was right. Even the Wizard milled by a nearby tree, watching over everything and everyone.

Among the large crowd of familiar faces, Claire spotted Leah towards the back. Almost instantly, Leah looked over and found Claire's eyes. She smiled and then cocked her head to the side. 'What's happening?' she mouthed.

Claire shrugged honestly. 'No idea'. 

"Hello, everyone," Mayor Lewis said loudly, and Claire turned around to face him again. The crowd halted their muttering, the silence unnerving. 

"I wish the cirumstances that prompted me to gather you here were more positive, but there's an issue here in Pelican Town that needs to be addressed." Lewis hung his head in uncomfortable dread. The crowd remained attentive, alert.

A headache hit Claire violently, her vision blurring immediately. She massaged her forehead with closed eyes, feeling a dizzy spell coming on.

"You good?" Abigail whispered, touching Claire's arm.

Instantly, the headache as well as the disorientation vanished. Claire took a second to steady herself, but Abigail squinted at her in confusion.

"My headaches have been getting worse," Claire said. Abigail frowned sympathetically.

"There is a thief about," Lewis started. People gasped and shook their heads disapprovingly.

"I just received word that Marnie's chickens have been stolen. Not only this, but it's come to my attention that Elliott's computer is missing and Clint has lost a few pieces of ore and an emerald as well."

"I don't want to go blaming people, so if the person stealing these things is with us today, have some integrity and come see me at my office."

Abigail leaned in close again. "You found broken bottles of wine in your shed, too, right? Were any missing?"

Claire shook her head, still massaging her temples. "No, they were all accounted for. Just, on the floor."

Abigail looked dumbfounded but shrugged and returned her gaze to Mayor Lewis.

"Clint has agreed to form a neighborhood watch as this has happened one too many times now. Do we have any volunteers to help Clint in this nice gesture?"

Claire turned around and saw Sam's hand go up. And then Sebastian's hand rose immediately after. 

"I'll help, too." Leah's voice came from the back of the crowd, and Claire stared at her.

Leah's hand was high up in the air, and determination was written boldly on her face.

"Good, good, that's great. If everyone who raised their hand could meet me and Clint inside the center, we'll be a step closer to having a safe town again."

The crowd dispersed and Claire watched as Leah squeezed through the villagers, getting closer to the center.

Walking briskly, Claire moved in front of Leah, stopping her, Leah’s face mere inches away from Claire's.

"Claire, what are you doing?" She asked, wearing a perplexed expression. 

"I- are you-" Claire made a noise of frustration and ran her hand across her face. "What if this isn't safe?"

Leah sighed. "So what if it isn't? The town clearly needs help, and I want to make a good impression on everyone."

"At the expense of your safety? Clint, Sam, Sebastian- they're all strong and-"

"I'm not strong?"

"No!" Claire groaned in exasperation. 

"I really, truly didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry. You're strong, but I-"

"Then come with me." Leah smiled, and Claire froze.

"Seriously, if you're that concerned," she continued, crossing her arms.

"Protect me, then."

"Okay." Claire ran a few fingers through her bangs and nodded. "Let's do it."

"I'm so glad you're volunteering, because I am too," said an energetic Abigail, appearing out of thin air.

Leah grinned and started walking towards the door, Abigail trailing just behind her.

Claire took a deep breath and followed them inside, an uneasy feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach.

Chapter 9: A Beacon Undisturbed

One Week Later

 

 

It was 9 PM when Claire exited the community center, a flashlight in one hand, her phone in the other. 

"All I'm saying," Abigail said from the speakerphone, "is that it's a little weird that things started going missing the second Leah got here."

Claire shook her head while surveying the playground. 

"And the fact that you're so quick to defend her," Abigail continued, "makes me think you're conspiring with her."

Claire rolled her eyes, flashing her light directly into a bush. "Okay, you've gone loony."

"No!" Abigail yelled through the phone. "I'm sick and miserable and would you please bring me some crackers. This is not a suggestion." 

Claire grinned and descended the steps that lead to the rest of the town and tried to ignore the sounds of Abigail’s cough crinkling through the phone. 

“You can’t escape me,” Abigail said, and Claire looked over her shoulder and into the window just a few feet away from her. 

From inside the general store, Abigail stood in front of the window, forehead against the glass and phone up to her ear. She stared directly at Claire.

Claire turned the speakerphone off and held her phone up to her respective ear and grinned. “Yes I can, go to sleep.”

Abigail made a dramatic frown from behind the window. “But crackers.”

”Maybe don’t get sick?” Claire said playfully. “This could be us.” She waved her flashlight around, earning an even more extreme frown from Abigail.

“Whatever, get stolen for all I care,” Abigail said somberly. 

“Seriously, get some sleep. The more rest you get-“

”The better I’ll be. Whatever.” Abigail tugged at the curtains, the fabric covering half of her face. “Goodnight,” the amethyst haired girl said with a grin. Claire detected the hint of smile on her friend’s face, and she knew she'd be alright. 

As soon as the curtains dropped and her friend had disappeared from the window, Claire continued on with her shift.

The moon illuminated the streets so well, Claire was tempted to turn her flashlight off. She crinkled her nose at the nothingness that happened around her, and despite the urge to call it quits, she pushed on.

She passed Jodi’s home and prepared for the forest that waited patiently for her. It beckoned, lured, enticed and sang for her like the ocean that tempted Willy; like the cries of a siren, Claire’s curiosity for the forest had always been like floating at the surface of the sea on a summer’s day, the yin-yang of water and sun impossible to resist. But the threat of the mermaid’s trap was just as equally present, her sharp eyes and hands full of purpose just waiting-itching-for the right moment. 

The trees started to hang over her, the birds squawked loudly from their branches, and the moon peeked through the leaves, and she knew she had entered it. The forest.

“Claire? Is that you?”

At the sound of her voice, Claire stopped and squinted at the figure coming into view.

”Oh, hi, Leah.” Claire waved at the woman walking towards her.

”I didn’t know you had watch tonight,” said Leah, stopping a foot away from Claire.

”I didn’t. Not initially, anyway. Clint ‘called out’,” Claire did air quotes with her fingers, “and I would have had Abigail with me tonight, but she has a cold.”

Leah nodded, a faraway look crossing her face. 

“What are you doing?” Claire asked.

Leah blushed, seemingly embarrassed. “I like to look at the sky at night.”

”Being in the city so long kind of stunts your introspection. And with the stars as bright as they are here in Pelican Town, it reminds me of my childhood.”

”I get that.” Claire slid her phone in her back pocket and watched Leah look up at the night sky. 

Claire copied her, staring into the never ending void of the unknown. 

“I have a picnic set up at the dock, would you like to join me?”

Claire raised her brow and a small smile started to appear. “A picnic? At-“ she pulled out her phone- “nine-forty-three?”

Leah nodded excitedly. “Yeah, what better time, right?”

Claire laughed and shrugged. “Sure, I guess I’ll join you. Do you have wine?”

”Only the best,” said Leah with a wink.

The women chatted awkwardly as they made their way over to the dock, their voices soft and their footsteps out of sync.

When they reached the edge of the wooden pier, Leah sat down on the quilted blanket and Claire did the same, crossing her legs and fiddling with the piece of lint that hung loosely at the end of her shirt.

The silence was loud but comforting, and Claire moved on from her shirt to the quilt, her fingers gliding across the unique stitching.

“This is adorable,” Claire enthused, touching the soft fabric.

”Isn’t it? Emily brought it over a couple days ago. Funny thing is that I think I mentioned I collected bottle caps once to her.” Leah looked nostalgically down at the bottle-cap themed blanket and smiled.

”You collected bottle caps?” Claire inquired with a grin.

With a quick nod, Leah continued peering down at the blanket. “Most people collect bottle caps- or, I guess, anything- to start a huge collection. That wasn’t really my case.”

Leah grew quiet, as if continuing the conversation in her head. 

“What was your case, then?” Claire asked, cocking her head to the side.

Leah glanced up to meet Claire’s gaze but only for a second before turning to face the water.

Another bout of silence passed. And Leah spoke again.

”Remember how I said I grew up on a commune?” 

Claire nodded.

”We didn’t have soda or anything like that,” she said, her eyes never leaving the soft ripples of the lake.

“So anytime someone’s family member or friend stopped by, sometimes there’d be drinks. Sugary ones. In cans, usually. But I liked the weird drinks in the plastic bottles.” Leah smiled softly, dreamily.

”Whether it was disdain for loitering or just wanting to live simply, somehow, the community hated the bottles more than the cans. Plastic.” 

Claire nodded again and resumed picking at the lint on her shirt.

”Maybe that’s why I liked collecting the caps so much,” Leah stated, chuckling to herself.

”Or maybe you were drinking straight moonshine,” Claire said.

Leah stared in horror at Claire. “You know what, that’s entirely possible.”

They laughed. And then they went quiet.

A toad croaked somewhere off in the distance.

”Snacks?” Leah piped up, severing the silence. 

Claire nodded and then her eyes widened when she saw Leah grab a board of cheeses and crackers and fruits from behind her. 

“This is,” Claire started, but was too in awe to finish her sentence.

”Too much? I had a lot of fun arranging it tonight.”

”No, it’s not too much, it’s just,” Claire paused, taking a slice of aged Brie.

”It’s very fancy,” she said after taking a bite. Her eyes then rolled to the back of her head. 

Leah laughed heartily. “It looks like you favor the cheese!”

Claire nodded enthusiastically. “Best cheese I’ve ever had.”

”But,” she paused to swallow. “Do you always go this out when you stargaze?”

Leah turned towards the water again. “Sometimes.”

”Uh-huh,” Claire smirked, popping a blackberry in her mouth.

”Claire, I-“ 

The sound of a nearby bush rustling stopped Leah mid-sentence. The women turned around and stared at the dark grove.

Claire instinctively grew closer to Leah, who hovered over her protectively. 

“It’s probably just a raccoo-“

”Shh.” Leah interrupted Claire, bringing a finger up to her mouth.

”Does a raccoon look like that?” Leah whispered and pointed at something in the distance beyond.

Claire followed where Leah was pointing.

A tall figure stood menacingly between the trees, its unseen but omnipresent eyes staring back at them.

And then Claire realized something horrifying.

The forest had gone silent. 

Chapter 10: Panic

 

 

 

"Everyone, quiet!" Mayor Lewis tried to bring order to the rowdy crowd while standing nervously in front of the fireplace, gripping his wrist and sweating profusely.

The community center was abuzz with discord; some of the crowd sounded angry, others seemed frustrated, all were concerned.

"Please, my friends. I understand we are worried about-"

"Worried? We're terrified, Lewis!" Elliott cut in, standing at the left side of the room and wearing a prominent scowl.

"Are the girls safe?" Asked Shane from the oppposite end of the room, his reflection bouncing off the glass of the fish tank.

Mayor Lewis massaged the temples of his forehead. "Yes, they're with Harvey, but we won't know anything about their condition until he's done looking at them. Until then, I advise everyone to return to their lives and stop harassing the doctor."

"With every ounce of disrespect, Mayor Lewis," said Shane. "Harvey- hell, the girls- could benefit from us pitching in somehow. While Harvey is doing whatever he's doing with them, we could, I don't know, make them food, or something."

"Do their chores," Emily chimed in, nodding and appearing at Shane's side.

"I could do their makeup after surgery!" Haley piped up from Emily's side.

Emily looked at her sister warily. "I don't know how that would help-"

"Is Harvey even doing surgery on them?" Questioned Clint, who stood at the far corner to the left of the entrance.

Mayor Lewis made a frustrated sound before shaking his head. "Enough!"

"If you want to help, fine, I won't stop you. But let's not lose our heads."

“That would be easy except for one tiny detail.” Shane said, a forlorn look appearing on his face. “The girls don’t remember anything.”

The uneasy silence in the room only added to the general discomfort of the situation. 

“We don’t know that with absolute certainty,” said Mayor Lewis. “Who knows, maybe Harvey will do something and-“

”And the girls will just magically remember what happened to them?” Shane looked furious now.

Mayor Lewis sighed and rubbed his cheek. “We don’t even know what happened to them. Let’s leave that up to the girls to explain when Harvey fixes them.”

”This is ridiculous,” Shane uttered under his breath before storming out of the center. 

The villagers turned their heads from the slamming doors back to their mayor, who looked defeated and dejected. 

"Okay, you're free to go." Mayor Lewis collapsed in the chair beside him and watched as everyone exited the community center.

"This is not good," the mayor said quietly to himself.                                                                               

Chapter 11: Abandoned Warehouse

Leah

 

 

My eyes are open. And I'm blind. And I'm not in the bed that's still taking time to adjust to but is still nevertheless a familiarity, and that's not okay. I attempt to swallow but struggle to do so; my throat has never been this dry. An overhead light seems to be lazer-beaming directly at me. I cringe at the harshness of it until I arrive at an odd conclusion. I'm staring directly at an operating light. 

The more I squint, the dizzier I become, and it feels useless to even try. 

"Good, Leah, you're doing great. Can you hear me?" A voice says to me.

At least, I think I'm registering a voice. I can't see anything, but maybe I could if it weren't for this blinding light!

"Please," I say, my voice coming out disgustingly scratchy. I cough. Yikes, I sound like a cat whose vocal chords were just ripped out.

"Please tell me I'm not in some abandoned warehouse," I manage to get out, still disturbed by the sound of my own voice. 

A hand is placed on my shoulder and I fear the worst is here.

A familiar face and an even more familiar mustache comes into view now, their facial hair being the only thing that isn't blurry. 

The man chuckles, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth taking precedent over everything else. 

"No, I believe you're at the clinic. I'm Harvey, Pelican Town's doctor. Remember me?"

"Yes," I say, my hands squeezing the bedsheet from beneath me. I then close my eyes to try and shield from the pain of the light.

A second passes and my eyelids feel safe. Safer. I open them again and the overhead light is off. 

"There, how about that? Also, how is your vision?" Dr. Harvey pulls away momentarily only to come back a second later, his face hovering over me.

"A little rough," I tell him, which was the truth. I could only see that curled mustache of his and virtually nothing else.

"That's okay," he responds, moving out of sight for the second time.

I try swallowing again, and I silently applaud because my throat is not as sore as it was before.

"Where's Claire?!" I shoot up from the bed, and immediately regret it. 

"Ugh!" I groan, my hand flying up to my vibrating head. 

A glass of water is soon in front of my face, and I take it with no hesitation.  

I gulp greedily and some of the water spills out the sides of the cup and down my chin.

"Perhaps that wasn't the best move to make," said the doctor. I continue drinking.

As soon as I drain the glass, I close my eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time and try to force my headache away, knowing damn sure it won't because it's out to get me. 

"Where's Claire?" I ask again, my eyes still closed, and I feel a panic start to rise.

"She-"

"Because she was right next to me last night and the last thing I can honestly, seriously remember is-"

I open my eyes, expecting the memories to flood in with such force that nothing else could permeate my brain, but instead, I'm met with the boring, slightly chipped white of the wall across from me. 

"Leah, you are incredibly weak, and if you try to move, you'll tire yourself out," Harvey tells me, but I continue to stare at the wall that I'm pretty certain just winked at me.

"I need to know if she's okay," I say, fatigue subduing me out of nowhere. 

And as if reading my mind, I feel the doctor's hands guiding me, aiding me to a more peaceful position.

"Is she okay, doctor Harvey?" I'm being lowered back down to my pillow now, a nodding Harvey the last thing I see before sleep consumes me.

Chapter 12: Believe Me, I'm Lying

 

 

 

Claire sat upright on the clinic bed and watched as Harvey, who sat across from her, scribbled on his clipboard, his focus still and unwavering.

“And that’s when Shane found us?” Claire gulped and observed the doctor nervously.

“Yes," Harvey said simply. "By the Mine's cave entrance. He reported that the two of you were slouched up against the dirt wall.”

“I just-I’m trying to remember the details but I can’t. It's like.. my brain feels hollowed out and all I can think of is Leah and me at the dock. That’s all I remember.”

Leaning back, Claire stared at the empty wall beside her, her eyes vacant, lost.

”And no recollection of how you got there?” Harvey looked up at her, concern riddling his face.

Claire shook her head. “Doesn’t help that my head hurts and my vision sucks.”

”Your vision?” Harvey asked, his head popping up from his clipboard. Claire nodded.

Harvey jotted something down and then removed himself from his seat. “One moment, Claire.”

Before he reached the hallway, Harvey stopped and turned around to face her. 

“There’s a glass of water for you at your bedside.” And then he disappeared around the corner.

Claire glanced at the small styrofoam cup half-full of water and then rolled to the other side of the bed and closed her eyes.

 

•

 

“Claire?” A soft voice called out. "Are you awake?” 

Claire’s exhaustion nearly carried her back to sleep, but the voice persisted.

”Claire, I swear to God, if you’re dead-“

”I’m alive.” Claire groaned and stifled a yawn, barely managing opening her sleep-crusted eyes.

When her eyes were all the way open, Leah came into view, her face hovering over Claire’s, and their noses barely an inch away from touching.

”If you could kindly move,” Claire said, and Leah backed away immediately, her cheeks reddening.

”Thank god,” Leah said, her hand rising to her chest. “You looked lifeless.”

”Yeah, well, I’m very much alive.”

An awkward silence lingered in the air. 

“What happened?” Claire asked, breaking the quiet in half.

”I was hoping you would know,” Leah responded sheepishly and sat down in a chair.

“Well, what’s the last thing you remember?” Claire sat up in her bed. 

Leah turned her head briefly, wearing a thoughtful expression. 

“The snacks, the pier. The bottle cap blanket.”

”Do you remember going to the mines?”

Leah cocked her head. “Did we go to the mines? I don’t recall that.”

”Neither do I, but that’s where Shane found us.”

”Shane?”

”I see you girls are up and cognitive.”

Leah and Claire turned to the hallway where Harvey stood, his clipboard in hand.

”Doctor, what’s going on?” Leah asked, standing up. 

A concerned look passed Harvey’s face but only for a second. He walked across the room and Leah followed him. He directed for her to sit and she did so. Harvey then grabbed another chair and sat in between them.

Sighing, he massaged his head. “I’m not sure what’s going on. And while that’s mildly concerning, at least you two are safe.”

”So, what, we just have amnesia now?” Leah asked, her knee rocking up and down.

”It.. appears that way.”

”It appears? So you don’t know?” Claire questioned.

Harvey sighed again. “It’s all very strange. We’d like to chalk it up to too much wine but there was absolutely no alcohol in either of your systems. What I did find, however, were small trace amounts of an unidentifiable substance. I've never seen it before, nor have I read any case studies concerning it."

Leah and Claire looked to one another, sharing each others' discomfort. 

"I have been asked to bring the two of you to the center. Mayor Lewis is there and would like to speak to you."

"Right now?" Claire asked. Harvey nodded solemnly.

"Does he know what happened to us?" Leah asked.

"No. But that is what we plan on figuring out."

Harvey lifted himself from his chair and the women did the same.

Watching them intently, Harvey waited in the hallway until Claire and Leah caught up. 

"Let's go," said Harvey, opening the clinic doors.

When they eventually reached the doors to the community center, Harvey stopped and turned to face them.

"Here's to finding some answers."

Standing off to the side, Harvey pulled the door open for them.

As they were walking inside, Claire looked over her shoulder and saw Shane standing at the side of the building. He met her gaze and gave her a small, sympathetic smile. She smiled back.

After he let the women inside, Harvey followed in after them.

"Hello, Claire. Leah. It's good to see you awake."

Mayor Lewis walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Please, sit." He gestured to the chairs in front of him.

Claire and Leah found their seat and exchanged another silent look.

When the mayor found his own seat, he plopped himself down and crossed his hands.

"Well, I'm sure the two of you are just as confused as we are. I won't beat around the bush, we think you've been drugged."

"Drugged?" Claire and Leah said at the same time. 

Lewis nodded uncomfortably. "At the mention of the dock, Harvey took what you said and suggested we give the place a look. And when we got there, we discovered a wine bottle."

"That was mine!" Leah piped up.

Lewis looked past Leah and made a face to Harvey who stood near the door.

"Where did you get the wine, Leah?" Lewis asked, his tone changing albeit subtly.

"Well, uh, I made it." She folded her hands in her lap and nodded, a soft pride glowing in her eyes.

"We'll need to hold onto it. Harvey needs to run some tests." 

Claire looked at Leah, confused. Leah shrugged.

"Alright, well," Lewis started, looking frustrated. "From now on, we believe the two of you should be separated from each other. Until we reach some kind of conclusion," he said while looking at Harvey, "I am ordering the two of you to stay away from each other."

"That's ridiculous, Lewis." Leah crossed her arms defiantly. "How would separating us do any good? We have no idea what happened."

"And that's exactly why I want you two to ignore each other. Tend to your farm, do your wood carving. But if I see the two of you mingling, we'll have to go to extreme measures and that's not ideal."

"If anything, doesn't this make the situation potentially worse?" Leah said. Lewis looked at her in confusion.

"I mean, if we're all alone, how does that grant us any safety?" She explained.

"We can have villagers come and check in on you two. Harvey, are you okay with checking in on Claire periodically?"

Harvey nodded reluctantly.

"Good." Lewis puffed his chest and then uncrossed his hands.

"I'll find someone to keep you company, Leah. But in the mean time, I expect your obedience."

Leah shook her head and turned to look at Claire. "Are you okay with this?"

Claire shrugged.

When Leah saw that she had nothing to say, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Can I at least go back for my blanket or is that area closed off with caution tape?"

"You can go back for your blanket. If it's stil there. Emily said something about cleaning up. If it's not at the pier, they may have put it next to your door."

Leah's face changed and contorted to one of sadness. "My poor charcuterie board. I spent almost all afternoon yesterday putting it together."

Claire comforted her friend, sending her a half-smile.

"Yesterday?" Lewis said, eyeing Leah suspiciously.

"Yeah?" Leah responded, eyeing him with just as much apprehension.

Mayor Lewis paused before saying the words that would send chills down both the girls' spines.

"Leah, the two of you have been unconscious for three days."

"Three days? What are you talking about?" Claire finally spoke up.

"I'm saying Shane found the two of you at the cave entrance three days ago, and took you to the clinic where you've been this entire time."

"Oh god," Leah uttered under her breath. "We've been out.. that long?"

Lewis nodded gravely.

”And who knows how long we’d been out already.” Claire wondered out loud.

When the conversation was over, the girls exited the center in a single file line.

As the doors closed behind them, Leah stopped and Claire almost collided with her.

"This is nuts," Claire said, crossing her arms and staring off in the distance.

Leah nodded. "Come with me to my cottage, we should discuss this."

"But Lewis-"

Leah snorted. "Oh, you're going along with it? I'm not going to ignore you- I don't care how long he's been mayor."

Claire looked over her shoulder and saw Shane moving towards them.

"Shane-"

"Follow me," he said, cutting Claire off, an intensity flaming in his eyes.

And so they did. All the way up the path and towards the Mountain.

"Where are we going, Shane?" Leah asked.

"Where I found you," he responded.

Claire gulped nervously but trucked on, the cave coming into view now.

Shane stopped right before the entrance, and then crouched low to the ground and started digging with his hands.

Claire and Leah just stared at him in aching anticipation.

When he was done, Shane stood up and, with open hands, showed them the object.

"That's mine!" Leah said, reaching for it.

"It was right next to you when I found you guys. I buried it to come back for it, because, if I'm honest, I don't trust Lewis with it. That, and I didn't know what to make of it. I'm glad it belongs to you, though."

"Thanks, Shane." Leah smiled at him, and then returned to the chisel in her hand.

"Now the question is," Leah continued. "How did it get here?"

"How did we get here?" Claire asked, and Leah and Shane nodded thoughtfully.

 

•

 

Back in the forest, Claire trailed close behind Leah until the both of them came to a stop. They had reached the point in their walk where the pathway split, one going left down to Leah's cottage, and one going right up to Claire's farm. 

Claire tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear and prepared to say goodbye.

"Follow me," Leah said, taking the path to the left.

"I don't want us to get caught." Claire stood with her arms crossed. 

"And I'm not leaving you alone," said Leah, standing her ground. 

"I think I'll be okay, I have my junimos with me." 

And then a panicked look crossed Claire's face. 

"Oh my god, my junimos!" Her hands flew up to her face.

"I'm right behind you!"

Claire and Leah sprinted across the forest and up Claire’s plot of land until they reached her porch. Struggling to remove her keys from her pocket, Claire anxiously stepped back and forth. When she finally managed to locate the right key, she turned the knob, entered the door and rushed inside.

"Stinky? Smelly?! Oh, god, I've been gone for so long!”

In the living room, Claire's junimos laid comfortably on their scarf bed, and at the sight of their mom, squeaked loudly.

"Oh my god, you two must be starving!" She opened her arms and the junimos attacked her with their love, their squeals of joy persisting.

Claire swallowed the lump in her throat but couldn’t control the tears that made their way down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

As if understanding her, the tiny friends with their clandestine-filled eyes shook their heads, as if only to say ‘you have nothing to be sorry about’. But Claire was sorry, despite the reassurance in her friends' eyes. 

"Hey, there's a note over here!" Leah said from behind, and Claire walked over to the kitchen table.

The blue post-it note read: 

 

"your cows, chickens, and junimos have been fed ♥

- emily"

 

Claire breathed a sigh of major relief and nearly fainted against Leah. "I really thought.."

"I know." Leah rubbed her back, and then, as if realizing what she was doing, pulled her hand away.

"Let's go back to my cottage. I'm serious. I kind of have something to show you." 

Leah turned around and started walking. Claire had no other choice but to follow her, the junimos clinging to her shirt and not letting go.

 

•

 

Inside Leah's home, Claire stood awkwardly between the bed and bookcase, and Stinky and Smelly sniffed the new environment.

"Sit on the bed, please," Leah ordered, and Claire obeyed.

Leah disappeared behind the corner only to return moments later with a tiny, ribbon-wrapped present.

"I forgot to give this to you. At the dock."

After handing it to her, Claire opened the miniature box and gasped.

A pair of sparkly wine bottle earrings shone brightly, and Claire gawked in awe.

"Leah, these are beautiful. Thank you." 

"You're welcome," she smirked. "I made them and thought they'd look nice on you." 

The junimos squeaked curiously at the earrings and Claire swore she saw them smile.

"Oh my god, wait!" Leah said, turning to face her calender.

"Tomorrow is the 22nd!" She cried, spinning her body towards Claire.

"Yeah? What about it?" Questioned Claire.

"Taylor Swift just released her new album and I-!"

Claire raised her brow. "You listen to Taylor Swift?"

"You don't?"

The women stayed staring at each other before Leah broke the tension, grabbing her phone from her back pocket and pulling it out.

She tapped against the screen furiously until music started to play from the speakers. 

Leah moved over to the bed and got on top of it, settling down only mere inches away from Claire. She then set the phone down between them and opened her hand in front of Claire.

"Huh?"

"The earrings, give them to me."

Claire passed her the earrings, and Leah gestured for her to come closer. And so she did.

'I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me'

Leah carefully put on each earring, twisting Claire's head side to side until finally leaning back, taking it all in. Leah’s face was unreadable. 

'I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say'

She then began to nod approvingly, her mouth turning up at the corners. 

"How do they look?" Claire asked, her hand flying up and touching them.

"Like they were made for you."

Claire smiled softly, and the two rocked back and forth to the music, the events of today escaping them entirely.

Chapter 13: Hindsight

 

 

 

She crossed the final ‘t’ on the page of her notepad and Stinky snuggled closer to her, their soft cheek resting against the outside of her thigh. She smiled down at them, their warmth a reminder of their trust.

Trust. A five-letter word that, when felt and known, could eradicate any apprehension or instability.

Do I trust Leah?  

Claire zeroed in on the words she wrote and tried to imagine what trust would look like with Leah. 

I think I do. 

“Breakfasts’ almost ready.” 

Claire took one last final look at the page before setting it down. Bringing her knees to her chest, she watched her. 

She watched as Leah ran-walked across the small square footage of the kitchen, adding this to a pan, taking that from a cupboard.

She grinned behind the skin of her body, the sight of her making her oddly warm. 

I think I trust her.

“Damnit!” Leah yelled, bending over beside the stove.

Claire hopped off of Leah’s bed and skipped across the floor until she reached her side.

Leah squeezed her middle finger and bit down on her lip.

And then she did the thing.

Her eyes darted swiftly back and forth and she turned her body so that Claire couldn’t see.

And Claire had had enough.

”Okay, so, there’s this thing you do when you’re hurt and you’re obviously in pain but you would rather do anything else than deal with or talk about it. And you won’t let me help you.”

Leah turned slowly back to the stove, completely shielding her face. Claire rolled her eyes. 

“And you’re doing it right now.”

”And maybe that’s fine.”

”It’s not.”

Leah turned slightly, her side-eye subtle but effective, and Claire could feel it.

”Especially since I don’t like seeing you in pain,” Claire said, crossing her arms. 

A beat passed.

Leah turned and faced Claire completely. “I burned my finger.”

She raised her middle finger, flicking Claire off.

Claire smirked. “Do you need to run it under water?”

Leah shook her head.

And then she turned back to the stove, picking up the eggs with her spatula and flopping it onto the plate next to her. 

And then she stared at the plate, unmoving.

”Did you short-circuit?” Claire joked, moving towards the table and sitting down.

Silence.

Claire’s brows narrowed. “Are you okay?”

”Do you think we were drugged?”

Claire sighed and felt the urge to roll her eyes but didn’t. 

“I really don’t think stressing yourself over this will be helpful.”

Leah flipped around and stared at Claire from across the room. “Are you not the least bit concerned about what happened to us?”

Claire shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, of course, I am! I just,” she paused and brought her hand up to her troubled face.

“There’s not a whole lot we can do to figure it out. Is it weird we can’t remember anything after that night? Absolutely. But,” she gestured with her open hands, “no one - not Lewis or Harvey - has come up with anything to explain what happened.”

”And as much as I enjoy being here with you,” Claire continued, “being secretive - staying here without anyone knowing - hasn’t really resulted in any groundbreaking evidence either.”

”That’s where you’re wrong,” Leah said, sitting down across from her, a spark lighting wildly in her eyes.

”What do you mean?” Claire asked, leaning in ever so slightly. As much as she wished Leah wasn’t onto something, a small but ever-present gut feeling told her that something new - something worth listening to - might be brewing.

”There was something that Emily told me a while back that didn’t mean anything to me. At the time, anyway. But,” she paused and looked out the window, “when the mayor-“

”You can call him Lewis, ya know.” Claire smirked. 

“Huh?”

”You sound so formal saying that. ‘Mayor’. I think you’ve been here long enough to call him by his name. And everyone else, for that matter.”

”Oh,” Leah blushed, and looked at her cuticles. "I feel like you’re purposely trying to change topic, but because I’m smart, I’m not going to fall for it.”

Claire leaned back in her seat and smirked harder. “I was being serious. But please, continue what you were saying. I am genuinely curious.”

”Whatever,” Leah rolled her eyes.

”When Lewis had us in the community center, he mentioned something. Something that made me think about what Emily said to me.”

Claire nodded, listening intently.

“Remember how he said that Shane found us at the cave?”

”Yeah?”

”Emily had mentioned that Shane goes missing sometimes. For days at a time.”

Claire squinted suspiciously at her. “You’re not implying that Shane had anything to do with what happened to us, right?”

Leah pleaded with Claire physically, her face contorting to one of desperation.

”I’m just saying that’s weird. Because it is. Shane just found us?”

Claire shook her head. “If he had anything at all to do with us losing our memory, why would he help us?”

”Maybe he’s trying-“

”No, Leah, stop. This entire week I’ve been sneaking out, Shane has been at and on our side, letting us know when Harvey is on his way over. There’s no way he’d betray us like that.”

Leah turned her body away from Claire and stared at the floor. 

“What about the chisel?”

Claire stared expressionless at Leah. 

“You can’t say anything about it, huh. Because you don’t know what to make of it.”

”Things go missing, Leah.”

”After I find out it was buried by Shane? Who then dug it up and gave it back to me? And then I wake up yesterday and it’s gone?  I don’t know, Claire. Something is not right. And I wish you were as concerned about it as I am.”

Leah got up from her chair and started walking away. “You’re right, you being here hasn’t helped at all.”

Claire watched with a hurt expression as Leah turned the corner and left out the front door.  

When she was certain that Leah was out of sight, Claire pulled out her phone and tapped the screen multiple times. After a second passed, she brought the phone up to her ear, her knee bobbing up and down at rapid speed.

The voice on the other end of the line spoke, and Claire looked out the window. Leah had crouched down in front of the lake, her feet just inches away from touching the water. Claire watched her watching the lake and her heart sunk at what might need to happen.

Do I trust her?

Claire closed her eyes, her mind a wasteland of chaos and confusion; uncertainty.

”Shane, we need to talk. Now.”

Chapter 14: [Not] a Resting Point

 

 

 

"This better be fucking good, my Aunt is making caramel corn, and if I miss it, Claire, I swear to Yob-"

"You won't miss the damn caramel corn," Claire interrupted Shane, sending him daggers with her steely, dark eyes.

Shane sighed heavily and crossed his arms, but not without leaning against the wall like the wanna-be enigma that he tried so hard to be.

"So, what's going on?" He asked, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

Claire started to pace, her eyes laser-focusing on the ground but her thoughts running a million miles an hour. 

"First of all, it's been days since I called you, and Halloween is almost here. You know what's coming, right?"

Shane nodded slowly, blowing out a puff of smoke. "I've been busy."

"You're not listening, Shane!" Claire stopped pacing and stared directly at him. "Leah is starting to wonder, and I don't know how to tell her-"

"That you're a witch?"

"I'm not a witch."

"Your juni's sprinkled fairy dust all over you when you came to their rescue, and now you can grow and harvest crops in a millisecond." Shane raised a brow and gestured sassily with his hand.

"You know what I'm trying to say here, Shane." Claire wiped a hand across her gleaming forehead, a look of frustration passing her face. "And by the way, I can do more than just harvest crops instantly."

Shane threw his cigarette on the floor and stomped on it with his sneaker. Cracking his knuckles, he proceeded to grab the water bottle next to his feet and screwed the cap off and drank its contents.

"She's freaking out," he said. "And you're obviously not, because you know what happened that night, and she doesn't. And now you're in hot shit."

"We're not entirely sure what happened that night, let's just be clear here. And besides, you've been helping me, so you're in this, too," Claire said with a stern face. 

Shane sighed. "Have you visited him yet?"

"No."

"Well," he threw his hands in the air, "there's your issue."

Shane slung his bottle over his shoulder and started to walk away.

"I'd go talk to him if I were you. He may have the answers you seek."

"You think you sound so mystical but you're a royal pain in the ass!"

Shane flipped Claire the bird and slowly became a blip in the distance.

Leaning against the side of the wall, she pondered quietly to herself. 

After a moment of contemplation, Claire straightened herself and walked away, heading towards the forest. A nearby raven cawed menacingly, a chill blew in from the mountains, and the 'M' from the JojaMart sign flickered in and out.

Claire followed the dirt trodden path and breathed in the cold, Autumn air. She knew what she needed to do. 

Chapter 15: When the Wind Whispers Your Name

 

 

 

"What are you going as?" Leah said from around the corner.

"Don't peek," Claire instructed, sitting on the edge of Leah's mattress and putting on the final touches of her costume.

"Okay, you can look now!" Claire hopped off the bed and waited for Leah to round the corner. When she did, she stopped abruptly, her jaw dropping.

"You look," she started, her eyes glazing over every inch of Claire's body.

Claire twirled, and when she met Leah's gaze, she smiled innocently.

"Ridiculous," Leah said finally.

Claire looked at Leah in confusion.

"What are you talking about, I look great!"

Claire walked over to the standing mirror at the bedside and striked a pose.

"Who, or should I say, what are you dressed up as?" Leah looked Claire up and down again and tried to stifle a chuckle.

"You haven't seen Barbie Fairytopia?" Claire's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, and she shook her head in disappointment.

"I'm Bibble!" She exclaimed, twirling around once more, her hands grasping at the cloth from her dress.

"You've lost me," said Leah, but starting to grin.

Leah then walked back to where she was before, near the table where Claire couldn't see.

"Give me a second, will ya? I still need to change!"

"I'll be here!" Claire waved a hand, despite Leah having already left the room.

A knock was heard at the door, and Claire instantly froze in place. Leah's head poked out from the corner and appeared just as frightened as Claire. 

'Should I get it?' Claire mouthed. Leah instantly shook her head.

'Go see who it is!' Leah mouthed back.

In an attempt to be quiet, Claire stealthily walked towards the door and peered subtly out the window to the right of the door.

Claire heaved a sigh of relief, her hand flying up and finding her chest. 

She unlocked the door and let a spooky looking Abigail inside the cottage.

"While I have no idea what you are, you're in costume and that's all that matters," Abigail said as she pulled Claire in for a hug.

”I can say the same about you— what are you, a zombie?” 

“Yeah! From the 1999 horror game Nocturne, duh.”

”You say that as if I know what that is.”

Abigail snorted and closed the door shut.

"Where's Leah?"

"I'm getting changed!" Leah shouted from the other room.

"What are you going as?" Abigail asked, taking a seat on the bed.

A silent moment passed, and Abigail raised an inquisitive brow at Claire who only shrugged in response.

"Ta-da!" 

Claire and Abigail turned to see Leah walk out into the room sporting a long white dress that reached her calves. Around her waist was a pretty sky-blue belt, and on top of her head was a similar colored headband. Wearing her hair up in a ponytail, white flowers adorned the base of the scrunchie that secured her hair. 

Abigail ooh'd and ahh'd. Claire simply looked Leah in the eyes, a soft smile appearing on her face. 

"Gorgeous! But," Abigail brought a finger up to her mouth. "What costume is that?"

Leah moved graciously across the floor and stopped right in front of the mirror that Claire was looking into just five minutes ago. 

She twirled a stray piece of auburn hair around her ear and beamed at herself in the mirror.

When she turned, she faced the girls, blushed, and proceeded to look down at the floor.

"It's Thumbelina. I remember watching the movie as a little girl and thinking, 'hey, that looks like me'!"

Abigail sighed dreamily. "It looks great on you."

"Yeah," Claire agreed softly, her eyes still fixed on Leah.

Leah looked up, smiled briefly at Abigail, but then turned and smiled at Claire. 

And then she grew solemn and looked away.

"I never got to celebrate Spirit's Eve," she said, walking towards the bed but not sitting down.

"Because of the commune?" Claire asked, genuinely curious.

"Believe it or not, no. The women at the commune would put on their costumes, do their own version of trick or treating - candied berries of all things - and even carved pumpkins."

Abigail brought her fake-bloodied legs up to her face and rested her chin on her knees. 

"It was my mom that didn't want to celebrate."

Claire and Abigail nodded slowly, taking in the newfound information.

She must've felt so left out, Claire thought to herself. Watching everybody enjoy something she couldn't even partake in.

I wonder if that's how she felt most of the time there.

"Anyway." Leah turned so that her back was facing the girls. "What time were we supposed to be at the town square again?"

"Ten minutes ago," Abigail said, scratching the side of her badly bruised head.

Claire's eyes widened before she hopped off the bed. "Let's start moving, the sun is setting."

 

•

 

By the time the girls reached the square, it was dark, the ghost of the day’s sun taking refuge beneath the soil. An eerie mist crept over the Valley like a fading candle wick, its presence a flickering reminder that the season was coming to its end.

"Holy shit, I promised Sam and Seb that I would meet them by the cemetary! I'll find you two later, okay?" Abigail ran off before Claire or Leah could get a word in.

Leah giggled and Claire crossed her arms, a smirk working its way up her lips.

The women continued their walk, passing the skeleton cage and waving at a familiar face. Wearing a velvety green ballgown, Clint stood right next to the cage, appearing agitated. Emily, who stood right next to him, looked devestatingly terrifying in her IT the Clown costume. 

Shaking her head and then sighing, Claire leaned towards Leah's ear and whispered quietly.

"Do you think Emily convinced Clint to wear that dress?"

Leah chuckled from beside her. "What, you didn't know the guy's into ballroom dancing?"

"Oh my god, you're right." And the two laughed childishly. Clint eyed them suspiciously from afar.

They reached the middle of the square and Claire was about to open her mouth and speak when she saw Lewis standing off to the side, under the tree by the clinic.

She gulped, but turned to Leah anway, and opened her mouth.

"So, what would you like to do first?" Claire asked, moving her feet, Leah following her.

The two stopped at the pillar closest to the saloon and Claire turned back around again to face Leah.

Looking past her, Claire spot the oak tree in the distance and bit the inside of her cheek. Lewis was gone.

"There's the candy hunt up near the community center. It's similar to the egg hunt, but Lewis unleases these robotic spiders that have sensors attached to them, meaning they will chase after you if you walk near them."

Leah raised a brow and Claire smirked. "It's his tradition," she shrugged.

"Oh!" Claire piped up. "There's also the pie eating contest, that's a lot of fun. I won it two Spirit's Eves' ago, I think. I can safely say that I still love apple pie."

Leah laughed and combed her ponytail with her fingers. "Is that something you want to do again?"

Claire shook her head dramatically. "No way, I'll leave the winning to Vincent this time. Pretty sure he came in third, the poor dude. Sulked for weeks."

"Also, there's a reason why I've been preserving my appetite today."

Claire walked towards the Stardrop Saloon, and Leah followed quickly behind.

At the door, Claire stopped and looked over at Leah. "Gus makes killer chili."

"Shit," Claire said suddenly, closing her eyes out of annoyance and sighing. "I forgot. You don't eat meat!"

"It's fine," Leah shrugged and wore a friendly grin. "You kind of inspired me to break out of my vegan shell a little."

"Inspire you, huh? Were you hit with such inspiration when you were dying on my toilet? I really don't think so."

Leah gasped and shoved Claire's arm but laughed anyway.

The girls entered the saloon, and the majority of the townspeople were huddled in their seats, chowing away at bowls of cheesy, creamy chili.

"Mmm!" Claire moaned, walking up to the counter.

"That smells," Leah began, closing her eyes. Claire studied her face and hoped for the best.

"Amazing!" She exclaimed, opening her eyes, and Claire cheered, her face lighting up.

"Two bowls of chili, please!" Claire orderd, and Gus nodded. 

"Been a while since I saw you girls here," Gus yelled over the excitement in the saloon.

"Been busy," Claire said, and Gus nodded. He understood 'busy' all too well.

When their bowls were placed down in front of them, Claire grabbed her spoon and raised it next to Leah, who then raised her brow.

"Clank my spoon with yours. For good luck."

"Luck? Why?"

"I bet I can eat my chili faster than you."

Something turned on in Leah, a competitve switch, and she picked up her spoon and banged it against Claire's.

"You're on."

And with that, the girls started shoveling the meaty soup into their mouths.

"Ack!" Claire went, bending over her bowl and spitting the chili out.

"Oh my god," Leah hashashash’d her way through the chili - the heat having singed the roof of her mouth - before swallowing.

Smoke flew out from both of their mouths and Gus laughed from behind the counter.

"Probably wished you blew on it first, huh?" Gus shook his head and continued laughing.

"Fuck you, Gus." Claire grabbed the cup of water that Gus handed to her, and gulped down every last bit of the cooling beverage.

This only made Gas laugh harder however, and soon enough, Leah was also cackling.

"So much for a challenge," Claire said after a minute of drinking.

"Oh, are you not game anymore?" Leah asked before picking up her spoon and shoveling more chili into her mouth.

Claire's jaw dropped. "Wait, ew, no! I literally just spat into my bowl! Tell her it's not a fair challenge, Gus!"

The kind-eyed bartender simply shrugged his shoulders and gave Claire a look that said 'don't bring me into this'.

But as Claire looked disgustingly into her bowl, Leah shoveled her last spoonful into her mouth before throwing her arms up in the air celebratorily.

"I did it! I won!"

"Damnit," Claire said, looking sadly at her still full bowl.

"Maybe you can beat me next year?" Leah winked playfully before bringing her cup of water up to her lips.

"Maybe," said Claire before a subtle smile worked its way up the corner of her mouth.

 

•

 

They found a patch of grass near the railroad tracks and sat down. The moon shone brightly, almost as if shining primarily for them and them only.

"I don't think I've been here before," Leah remarked, adjusting her scrunchie.

"It's nice." Claire looked up at the sky, admiring its vastness.

"Did you have fun?" Claire asked finally, meeting Leah's eyes.

Leah smiled and nodded at her, and then looked back down to the ground.

"I did," she said. 

Laughing softly, she drew circles in the dirt. "I can't stop thinking about how Vincent lost again."

"Again," Claire repeated, and Leah nodded.

"Poor dude, he'll get it one day." Leah brushed her bangs out of her face and opened her tote bag, revealing pounds of candy.

"Honestly, I doubt it," said Claire, who peered curiously in Leah's bag. "My junimos eat faster than him, and they take their damn time."

Leah watched her and smiled before grabbing the Smarties from her bag and passing it to her.

"Hm?" Claire looked curiously at the candy and then looked up to face Leah.

"You were eyein' it. Go, grab it. It's yours now." Leah grinned.

Claire took it from her and smiled. "Thanks."

"I have something to say," Leah said, and Claire's stomach did ten flips all at once.

"This is my first Spirit's Eve."

Claire looked blankly at Leah, who continued to draw in the dirt.

"Not even when I was in the city. I always wanted to, but either work took priority or-"

Leah stopped herself, clearly in deep thought.

When she was ready, she sighed heavily and drew squiggly lines through her circles.

"I had this girlfriend. And I liked her a lot. And then it ended, and now I'm here." She looked up from her artwork and smiled sadly at Claire.

"I'm glad you're here," Claire said softly, looking Leah in her eyes.

A quiet lull in the conversation occurred, but Claire didn't mind. She hoped Leah didn't either.

"And I'm glad I'm spending my first Spirit's Eve with you, Claire."

Suddenly shy, Claire looked down and dug her finger into the dirt next to Leah's creation.

"But," Leah continued, and Claire's head dipped back up. 

"Who's Gareth?"

The air had felt pleasant on her skin, the mist in the sky had dissipated, revealing a comforting night sky, and the end of October made promise of an even colder season to come.

The air had felt pleasant...

But the air now took on a chill she wasn't expecting, nor was she prepared for it. The once calming and clear sky now felt like a lion trapping its prey, the sheer claustrophobia of the unknown weighing down on her, and to her, the unknown was terrifying. It crippled, immobilized, prevented her from the peace she so desperately needed in this moment.

"Claire?" Leah asked, cocking her head and leaning closer.

But the darkness had already overtaken Claire, ceasing her senses with ease and claiming her as its own.

It always had.

Chapter 16: Coconut Sorbet

Shane

 

 

My fists collide with the wall next to me, and I yell, my anger bubbling and red hot. Lewis stands at his kitchen sink, watching me, not the least disturbed by my disruption.

"I don't know what to say to make you believe me, Lewis!" I shout, watching him watch me. 

Who the hell does he think he is, standing there without a sympathetic bone in his god damn body!?

"Now, now, Shane, I see you're upset, I really do. But let's try to remember something here," Lewis says before taking a sip from his mug.

"Claire has been very obedient, staying at her farm and leaving the lower half of the forest alone. Now, if she's been seeing Leah, you would tell me if this were true, and the conversation would end here, correct?"

He sets the mug down, crosses his arms and hacks something up from his throat.

I feel my skin crawl and the blood boil under my skin, but I maintain eye contact. "Yes."

"Good, and is she?"

I exhale out my nose and continue to stare at him. 

"No."

"Wonderful. I'm sure she'll turn up, then. She's a capable girl as we've all seen. Now," Lewis says, walking towards his room and then stopping at the door. 

"Do let me know when she turns up." And then I watch as he opens his door and walks in, closing the door shut behind him.

I'm almost certain my eyes are bugging out of my skull. 

"Fine! Let's abandon our people! I'm sure Aunt Marnie loves a neglectful mayor for a boyfriend!"

I storm towards the door and my hand reaches for the knob. 

I hear Lewis' door open and I turn to see his head pop out from behind it. "You don't know what she wants!" 

My body turns so that I'm facing him head on. I point a finger in his direction. 

"Kiss my ass, Lewis." 

And I'm out the door.

 

•

 

"So? What did he say? Is he going to form a search team?" Leah parades me with questions the second I enter the saloon, and I feel a wave of annoyance coming on. If I don't get a beer in my hands within the next ten seconds, I'm going into cardiac arrest.

I steady my breathing at the open door, the ache in my head progressing. "He didn't say jack shit. Now leave me alone."

"Why are you being an asshole? You want to find her, too, right?" Leah crosses her arms, her eyes glued to me.

"Or, is the fact that your aunt is screwing the mayor bugging you too much that you can’t get your big head straight?"

"I don't have a big head!"

"You're avoiding my questions!" Leah jumps in front of me, her face flushed.

I look over her shoulder and see Gus standing behind the counter, staring at us.

My ache is growing and I feel like I'm about to combust.

"Dammit, Leah!" I throw my hands in the air and she takes a step back.

She's staring at me just like Gus is staring at us, wide-eyed and full of fucking misunderstanding.

"Follow me, would ya!?" I tell her, pulling a 180 and exiting out the saloon.

"Where are you going?" She asks, and I hear her footsteps behind me.

When I don't answer, she begins yappin' again and I'm THIS fucking close to bashing myself over the head with a rock.

"Claire said you're an ass, and I agree with her. And look at me, following the ass to who knows where!"

"Just be quiet and trust me on this, okay?"

A beat passes.

"Fine."

"Thank Yoba."

Another second goes by.

"Do you remember what I said earlier?"

I pull on the drawstring of my hoodie, my vision partially shielded by the hood. 

"What did you say earlier?" I humour her, putting the string in my mouth and sucking on it.

A sigh comes from behind me. 

And then:

"The man whose name I uttered seconds before Claire vanished out of literal thin air, do I need to repeat it?"

I stop abruptly, and Leah almost collides into my back.

I swiftly turn around and meet her eyes. "I'm going to need you to shut up."

Leah huffs and folds her arms across her chest. "So, you know him?"

I squeeze the bridge of my nose and close my eyes in a moment of resentment. 

"This is getting damn tedious." I suppress a yawn and nod. "I know of him. But it will all make sense when we get to where we're going, so just keep walking, okay? We’ll find her. Hopefully." I say the last word quietly so that she doesn’t hear.

I hear Leah grunt from behind as soon as I turn around and at first, I think she’d heard me. But she doesn’t say anything. We start walking again.

The dirt slowly turns into grass, and the trees become larger and taller and prettier. A transition is happening, despite my preference for Fall; the leaves are starting to turn into a dry, carcassed version of their red and orange autumn selves. This means that Winter is about to hit. And I don't like Winter.

I spot the secret entrance coming into view and look over my shoulder.

"We're here. Well, almost."

Leah finds her spot at my side, her head turning in every which direction.

"I don't see anything. What am I supposed to be looking at?"

I fight the annoyance and instead wave my hand, picking up the pace.

Leah catches up to me until we're standing right in front of the entrance.

I look at her and grin. "Here's the fun part."

She looks at me confused but follows me into the Secret Woods, our footsteps syncing and uniting as one.

"Oh my god, is that--?"

"Shh, for the love of Yoba!" I whisper-yell, bringing a finger to my mouth.

Leah stays quiet but continues to stare at everything around her.

She takes in the quaint and cove-like forestry, riddled with magic. 

"That creature. It looks like Stinky." Leah crouches next to a shrub, her finger pointing at a tiny, bouncing green bubble. It doesn't seem aware of our presence.

"Uh, who?" I ask, scratching my head.

"Stinky."

"You say that again as if I couldn't hear you the first time."

I feel her glaring at me but I ignore her.

"Claire's junimo." She stands.

"Whatever," I say. "They're called Slimes."

"Fitting," she says, and I roll my eyes.

”Don't get near 'em.”

I start walking and pick up the pace again. "Follow me to the altar.”

Leah follows until we're standing right in front of the statue. We stop, and Leah ogles.

"What is this sculpture of?"

I shrug. "Don't know. Don't care."

Leah sends me another look but I ignore her again.

"Please fasten your damn seatbelt before take off."

"Take off?!"

I pass her a translucent shard from my pocket and she takes it hesitantly. I take another one out for myself and grip it.

"After I recite the spell-"

"Spell?!"

"Leah, for Yoba's sake!"

She glares at me and sighs.

"After I recite the spell, throw the shard on the ground at your feet. Just don't hurt yourself, okay?"

"Speaking from experience?"

This time it's my turn to glare at her, and I feel the urge to yell. But the shard in my palm digs into my skin and I channel all my anger into the shard before loosening my grip. The pain lessens.

I utter the words under my breath, and as expected, the taste of coconut fills my mouth. And when each of our shards light up, as I knew they would, the once transparent exterior now turns a shade of red, its vermilion energy activating and coursing through our veins. 

Leah's eyes widen and her mouth drops as she witnesses the power of the shards as they glow brighter and brighter.

I finish the incantation and meet her eyes. She meets mine, and I nod.

We throw our gleaming shards at the ground, and a blinding light flashes before us, just as I knew and expected it would.

A fury of colors - every possible shade of the rainbow - merge and coagulate into one and I close my eyes, because I know what’s coming. The bolt of electricity that would send us off.

And then it strikes us.

Chapter 17: The Snow That Falls

Leah

 

 

And then it strikes us.

My sight is stolen by a flash of light, and a current stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced lifts me off my feet.

A vibrating buzz surrounds and then passes through me, the texture strangely similar to that of the static of an old TV. 

I feel my mouth forming into an ‘o’. In fact, I’m completely convinced my entire body is reacting and molding to the static of this unknown force.

And then it’s over. The current has disappeared, the static has dulled, I drop back to solid ground, and Shane is gawking awkwardly, his eyebrow raised suspiciously at me. 

And then the brow drops, and he nods at me as if he’s just confirmed I’m still alive and well.

At least, I think I am.

I bring two fingers up to my neck and check for a pulse. 

“You’re not dead.” Shane rolls his eyes.

”How do you know that?” I add more fingers.

”Drop the dramatics and let’s go already.” He starts walking past me, but something else catches my attention.

I remove my fingers and, as if just appearing in front of me for the first time, the pillowy-soft field of green and white twinkles into view, each sinewy blade of grass a slightly different shade of winter.

The vastness of the field goes on and on, and at first, I don’t think there’s an end. But then I see it, and I sprint towards it, and the faster I run, the easier it is to see what lies on the other side.

”We’re on a cliff!” I exclaim, and I feel Shane standing on my left. He must have been running with me. 

“Oh my god!” I look down at the drop, my feet mere inches away from the edge, and take in the steep slope down to what appears to be an insurmountable amount of evergreen trees. 

“What happened? Where did we go?!” I turn to him, wiping away the bead of sweat that’s begun to trickle down the side of my cheek.

The slightest of a grin appears on his face, but it immediately vanishes, and he shrugs, seemingly disinterested.

”We were in the Secret Forest and now we’re not.” He shrugs again.

”Where are we, really?”

Shane smirks, a piece of him that feels familiar- perhaps proof of Claire’s influence over him- and then gestures at me to follow him. 

We’re walking back in silence, and I shove my hands in the pockets of my overalls. 

“We’re not far from Pelican Town.” Shane says from in front of me.

”Have you been down to Hat Mouse’s neck of the woods?” Shane turns to look at me, still walking.

I shake my head.

He whips his head back and picks up the pace. I walk faster.

”There’s an old, abandoned house in Cindersnap.”

”The forest we live in.”

Shane nods.

“But down southwest? A mouse sells hats in the abandoned building. Tried talking to him once. Didn’t really get anything in the way of conversation. Anyway,” he continues walking, taking us into a more shrouded and swamp-like area of the forest.

”There’s a bridge to the west of him,” he continues. “A broken one.” 

I expect him to continue and when he doesn’t, I look off in the distance. More shrouded trees.

“What about it?” I sniffle, the smell of pine, oak and moss filling my nose. 

“We’re close by.”

“The bridge?”

Shane nods from several feet in front of me, and I turn my head left and right, my eyes straining through the droopy branches.

“I can’t see it.”

Shane sighs, sounding annoyed, but I don’t care about his feelings.

”What are we even doing over here anyway? Do you know where Claire is?” I run up to him, proceed to get in front of him, and then stop him from moving forward.

“I don’t know if I trust you, Shane.”

”And yet you followed me all the way here.” He rolls his eyes.

”Look,” he says, sliding past me and walking away. ”You don’t have to trust me. In fact, I’d respect you if you didn’t."

"We're going to see someone," he continues. "He should have some answers."

Shane continues to walk through the mystery-ridden forest, his footsteps leaving miniature dents in the white grass.

"Fine," I respond, catching up but leaving a foot's distance between him and I.

It doesn't seem like he's going to tell me who it is we're going to see any time soon. Might as well leave it well alone until we get there. If we get there.

The forest that surrounds us takes on a feeling that leaves me feeling trapped, unsafe. Not even that night on the pier compares to my unease at this very moment.

The trees' spiraling branches are coated with an unknown, cream-like slime, and the smell that it's emitting is even more enigmatic. A weird combination of dirt, mold and something else I can't put a name to.

We push up- as the incline increases drastically- until we reach the top of the hill. As soon as the forest opens up and the last of the trees fall behind us, we come to an overpass, its structure made out entirely of a stone I've never seen before. At least, not here in Pelican Town, anyway.

"This must be ancient," I say quietly. Shane shrugs.

We continue on, walking across the overpass, and soon find ourselves at a dead end; a giant grassy block of stone prevents us from going any further.

I turn around and start walking back when Shane stretches his arm out, stopping me altogether.

"If you were patient enough, you'd see what's happening."

I turn back to the rock, which has started to separate down the middle, and stare in confused, but marvel-filled, awe.

"I'm not even going to ask how that happened," I say, and follow Shane through the newly appeared hallway, its onyx appearance twinkling in and out magically. Even the ground took on a similar texture and color.

Once we reach the end of the hallway, we stop at a rusty door. Did the hallway get smaller? I look to my right and notice that my shoulder is an inch away from touching the wall. I look to my left and notice Shane grazing my other shoulder. 

He scoots but doesn’t move much as the wall to his left leaves nothing in the way of personal space.

Ignoring our close proximity, he raps at the door four times and then pulls his hand back swiftly.

I ponder the reason for his sudden movement, but then it happens.

An array of knives poke out from the top of the door frame, all tiny but seemingly very sharp.

”Never gets old,” Shane says, and I continue to stare.

”Shane!” A loud and unfamiliar voice booms from beyond the door, and I take a step back.

Shane waves a nonchalant hand, but I bite at my cheek, the nerves from before surfacing at an increasing rate.

The door splits down the middle and retracts into the walls, and Shane walks through it, leaving me to saunter in from behind.

The room is as large and as high as a centuries-years-old cathedral, the windows narrow but scaling the entire length of the walls. It’s also just as dark as the hallway we came from, which isn’t reassuring in the slightest.

The furniture and overall ambiance of the room is an odd combination of contemporary gothic and disorganized wizard- heavy on the disorganized wizard. Every shade of black stains every wall and floorboard, half-open books are strewn about on every tabletop, and the smell of stale Earl Grey and low-burning sage fills the room. My nose twitches involuntarily.

Directly across from us, about a yard and a half away, sits a stranger. I notice right away that they are colossal, both in height and girth. 

They turn their head to the right, exposing half of their face, the defined lines and extraordinary exuberance showing proof of both age and youth, and despite their back being turned to us, they call out:

”Shane, what a surprise.”

It was the same voice from before, at the door.

”Hey, Z.” 

The person in the chair lifts themselves up from their chair and turns around, looking me straight in the eye. 

“And you must be Leah.”

Shane turns to face me and stretches his palm out at me. “Leah, this is Z.”

I nod and wave curtly at the man who has now materialized right in front of me, practically towering over Shane and me.

“Where’s Claire?” I ask looking up at him, wasting no time.

The man of stature peers down at me with an unreadable expression, his slim mouth almost folding into itself. His eyes then glaze over to Shane. 

“Not in the mood for tea, is she?” He says, and Shane shrugs.

”I’m here for Claire," I tell him, taking a step forward out of confidence. "And Shane says you know where she is, so no, I’m not in the mood.” I cross my arms, maintaining my defiance.

The man eyes me again, his presence oddly distant and lingering like a ghost of a shadow. Then he disappears and pops up just as quickly in front of the desk a couple feet away.  

His hand raises above the surface, and a teapot shoots up in the air and proceeds to pour into the cup next to it. 

I watch as the cup fills, the man’s hand not touching the pot or cup once, not even coming close.

“A cup, Shane?” He asks, and Shane nods. 

Shane moves over to the plush loveseat by the desk and sits down, the cup flying over and hovering right in front of him.

I catch Shane’s eye and raise a brow. He shrugs. 

“Sit, please.” Z orders. 

A chair materializes next to me and I sit down, my eyes training on Z the whole way down.

”Excellent.” A cup appears in front of his mouth, and he takes a sip, staring back just as fiercely at me.

”You have questions.” He continues to stare.

“Yes,” I respond impatiently, adjusting myself in the too-big chair.

”You will get your answers,” he says and my eyes widen in anticipation.

“As soon as you answer some questions of my own.”

”This is bullshit!” I get up out of my chair and start to walk back towards the door. “I'm not in the mood for riddles, I’ve had enough.” 

Both halves of the door slam into each other, blocking me from going any further.

Whipping around, I point a finger at Z. ”Open it.”

“I will once we both get what we want.”

”And what is it that you want?”

Z's mouth curls upward into a grin and he gestures toward the seat I was just in. "Sit."

Reluctantly, I walk back to the chair and sit back down, my patience waning but my desperation for Claire's location and her safety iridium strong.

"First," Z tells me, sitting down in his own chair, his voice ricocheting off the walls. "Introductions are in order."

"I already know your name," I tell him, crossing my arms.

"You know me by Z. That is not my full name. And you will never get to know my full name."

"Why?" I ask, and another grin appears on his face. 

This time, however, Shane responds. "He's an omnispirit. They were casted out of Pelican Town roughly a millennium ago for merely existing. Well, existing." He air-quotes.

"We were once equal parts human, spirit, and wizard," Z says. His teacup moves eerily in the air until it reaches his mouth. He takes a sip.

"In our original, truest formation, we were powerful, as our species is so defined." All-encompassing, all-powerful. Omni.

"As we lived among the mortals, however, the human in us became greater. Despite our humanity strengthening, the humans wanted our power; the power they witnessed in us but could not possess on their own. Our bodies, while mostly astral, produced something physical that the mortals ended up collecting for their inevitable act of betrayal."

A bitter look crosses his face, aging him significantly. "Our plasm."

"You don't mean-" I stare across at Shane, and then look over to Z, who begins to nod.

"Ectoplasm." He confirms with a shake of his head.

"The spirit fraction of us generated the ectoplasm you no doubt see today. It was our essence. And the humans we surrounded ourselves with betrayed us by stealing it from us." Z's eyes darken, and a chill blankets the air.

"Using our ectoplasm - and the incantations of ours that they observed - they wanted to delete our very existence. Not without removing and gaining our powers first, of course."

"They tried," Z continues, lifting his hand flippantly, "but failed."

"They instead sent us miles and miles away from our home unintentionally. We landed here," Z opens his arms, "in what is now Pelican Town."

"Overtime, our resentment toward the human race grew, and it festered wildly until our humanity diminished. While some of us have made peace in the end, there are some whose souls have gravely mirrored the carnage of our betrayal."

A single tear rested at the brim of the waterline of his eye—unmoving and still.

"Our group stayed together. For a while, as it were. Until the wrath of one permeated the heart of our already broken family, and we fell. One of us refused to mend their wounds."

"One of us," he says, standing up. "One of us, woefully, you know by name." He appears in front of me, his milky white eyes violating every inch of me.

"Gar-" I begin, but am cut short.

"Quiet!" Z yells maniacally.

Shane stands up quickly, a look of terror crossing his own face.

"Our names have power!" Z exclaims, his hands flying up to cradle his head. "And when you utter them, we are summoned."

A wave of shock bursts through me, and the harrowing realization dawns on me. 

"I said his name." My lips part, and a scream attempts to make its way up my throat but gets stuck halfway.

"The night Claire disappeared; I-I said his name!" I repeat, growing louder. Z nods his head grimly. Shane's mouth is stretched taut across his face, his eyes full of fury.

"You summoned G, whose heart fell to the treachery that was done to us. It was his ectoplasm that the humans used in their ritual. It was him that no doubt took Claire. And you!" 

He points his finger in my face.

"You. Summoned. Him."

Chapter 18: A Speck in the Void

Summary:

*reading this fills you with determination... ♥*

 

 

 

Claire's head ached and she felt a wave of nausea coming on- the moment she lifted her head, a pressure wedged itself between her temples and squeezed but, despite the pain, she opened her eyes. It was dark, cold- frigid. She raised her hand in front of her face, but the blackness of the room- at least, she thought it was a room - was so thick and consuming, not even her hand could break through it. 

Stay calm, she thought to herself. You're not dead. You could be, but let's not waste any energy assuming you are. For all you know, you've made it to purgatory.

"Not purgatory." A deep and rich voice filled the space, and Claire shuddered in fear for three reasons. 

One; the voice that spoke was full of malice and anger and everything in Claire told her to move far, far away, and as fast, fast as she could.

Two (and perhaps even scarier than the first); the echo that immediately followed the voice bounced off the walls for what seemed like minutes; the room she was in was much, much, much larger than she thought.

And three (perhaps the scariest of both one and two); the voice, belonging to God knows who, could read her thoughts.

This is bullshit. She whipped her head left and right, up and down-- every possible direction to ensure the Voice wasn't crouched predatorily at her side, ready to attack.

Silence.

She tried lifting herself up from her sitting position, but halfway up, something pulled on her wrists and her ankles, and Claire fell back down.

She looked down at her wrists but grunted as she realized she still could not make anything out. 

"If this is some sort of wicked Halloween prank you're pulling, Z, then ha-ha. But, could you at least turn the lights on?" Claire pleaded in the dark.

The dread building in the pit of her stomach got bigger and louder, and somehow she knew the Voice didn't belong to Z.

It wasn't Z at all.

"It's you, isn't it?" She whispered, her cadence managing to reach the walls and bounce off of them for minutes. 

And then, the Voice spoke again. 

"Say my name." 

Claire inhaled quickly and pulled her knees up to her chest. 

The Voice was much louder - closer - now, and she knew. It was him.

Her eyebrows knitted together in determination. "G."

A deep sigh filled the room- it bounced off the walls, ricocheted off the hard, concrete floor, and wrapped itself around Claire's small frame, resting comfortably in her fear. The fear it had caused and created and planted, just like a seed.

"You're home, my child." It whispered into her ear and she shook violently.

The taste of coconut filled her mouth and a bright light illuminated the room, and for a glimpse and a half, she saw the room, which went on for miles. She saw the marks on her wrists where she was grabbed so roughly from before. And she saw him.

His milky white eyes. His leering, stretched grin.

"Say goodnight." He commanded, and her eyes obeyed.

Claire tried to free herself but couldn't.

Instead, she fell asleep.

Chapter 19: The Icicle That Didn't Melt

Leah

 

 

"It’s been two weeks!" I stare desperately at him, hoping the bags under my eyes and the lunacy dripping from my voice would convince him to let me go.

All my energy was drained days ago, and somehow Z still has me in his lair, the door that could lead me to freedom shut tightly but always in my peripheral, taunting me with what could be. My freedom.

"You don't know the ways of the omnispirit yet." Z is without emotion, his body draped flippantly across the top of his chair.

"Please," I saunter over to him and step in front of him so that he can see my face in its entirety. My red-shot eyes, the metaphorical but extremely real-feeling knife in my back. What he can't see is the pain in my chest.

"How many times do I need to tell you that Claire is in real danger?! I can fucking feel it, you asshole!" I bring my fists up and hope to connect with his face, but am once again spun around by magic; by the mere twist of his wrist, I’m out-witted for the umpteenth time.

"You let Shane out!" I continue my ranting, my back still to him.

"He knows the ways of the omnispirit." Z replies, and my heart drops.

"He wouldn't just leave without me, he'll come back for me!" I turn around and look at him intensely.

Z eyes me cautiously. My eyes widen. "Unless."

Z smirks slightly. 

"Did he know this was going to happen?!" I take a step forward, my face flushing. I feel hot all over.

Z continues to smirk and I begin rubbing the length of my arms, seeking warmth. Is there a chill in the air?

"Did he know?" Hot, cold, hot, cold.

"I refuse to believe he took me here with the knowing that I'd be forced to stay."

"You don't know the ways-"

"I don't want to know!" I interrupt him, and a fire ignites in my stomach.

"Why is your past important?!" I move swiftly to the door and bang against it.

"And how is it that an all-powerful wizard is unable to help?"

Z appears at my side and sneers, his eyes full of contempt. “I won’t allow a meaningless mortal such as yourself to doubt me. It’s because of me that Pelican Town is free from the horrid acts that G is infamously known for.”

A new expression appears on his face, one that I don’t recognize, and I’ve been here long enough to know all the various faces he’s pulled. But with the sorrow in his eyes and the lack of color in his complexion- he’s sad.

”You seem like a decent guy, Z. Barring the kidnapping, anyway.” I cross my arms and lean against the door.

“And," I go on, "you seem to pride yourself in protecting the town. But what gives? What’s so important about omnispirit history that you have to keep me here? What even happened to Shane? I woke up and he was just.. gone.”

The elvish-looking man changed expressions once again, his eyes turning a steely grey. He opened his mouth. “As soon as you leave this place, your life will change substantially. And in order for you to remain alive, understanding the ways is the only option."

"What are you talking about?" I stand up straight.

The centuries old omnispirit shakes his head and pauses, as if carefully selecting his next words.

"When you leave here, you will no longer be human."

"Excuse me?"

"This place is sacred," he explains, raising his arms. "Shane, Claire; neither of them hold onto their mortal ways any longer. Not anymore. Not after meeting me."

I watch Z as he hovers over the ground and pulses through the air, his body going transparent almost instantly.

"Every person that I allow into my lair, I grant them powers. Shane? I granted him the power of seeing."

"Seeing?" I ask, feeling a mixture of exhaust and boredom.

"Seeing. Anything within a three-mile perimeter. Just as I can."

"You can just.. see things?" I cross my arms tighter against my chest.

The omnispirit nods his head, his silvery hair falling into his eyes.

"Every rodent, every bat-infested tree, every stream of water," he says. "Every person."

"Can you see Claire?" I ask enthusiastically. This is it, he has to know where she is!

But the all-powerful omnispirit shakes his head. This time, when his hair falls in front of his face again, he's there, ready to capture every stand with his fingers, winding them tightly around his ear.

"I cannot see her. I realize that is not what you were hoping for."

"What is Claire's power?" I ask this time.

Something in Z's eyes changes just now, and he begins tapping the tip of his elaborately-decorated shoe against the floor.

"It would be rude to keep our guest waiting."

"What?" I stare at him, thoroughly confused, but Z points to the door.

I stare at it in anticipation. And then a loud pounding at the door startles me. Z stays perfectly still.

The door separates like it did the first time two weeks ago, and on the other side of the door stands Shane.

"Oh, thank God! I knew you'd come back!" I run over to him and embrace him hard, my sinewy arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. Finally, a human!

But Shane doesn't do anything. He doesn't hug me back. Instead, he looks over to Z.

"Is she ready?" He asks.

Z nods his head nonchalantly.

"What? I am?! Do I get to leave?" I ask excitedly and clasp my hands together.

"You used the power I granted you." Z states matter-of-factly before waltzing across the room and sitting down in his chair.

"I did?" I frantically examine my body, my hands.

"You opened the door." Z grinned. 

I stare at Z for the longest time before I share a look with Shane, who grins coyly at me.

I look down and stare at my hands again. 

"To use your powers is to know the ways of the omnispirit. You did well. You can now leave." 

"That's it?" I question, feeling that there's more to this than meets the eye.

Shane takes my hand in his - soft and clammy to the touch - and pulls me away. There’s definitely more to this, but I just can’t see or do anything about it. Yet.

"With your combined power, you can find Claire." Z’s voice fills the lair, and Shane leads me through the door, our shoes gaining traction.

"I know you will." Z smiles enigmatically and I whip my head around and catch the last of his wave before the door shuts behind us. 

Chapter 20: C

Leah

 

 

"I have a million questions and you are going to answer all of them." I pick up the pace and follow Shane out of the ice-cold hallway. The bridge that leads to the creepy magic forest lies just up ahead, and I’m afraid I’ll pass out from the mere exhaustion and verbal torture arranged by an omnispirit I don’t think I can trust. Z, I found, is only capable of speaking in riddles that actually make no sense and thinks said riddles will cause me to experience some profound epiphany or awakening. Unfortunately for him, I’m too barren and hollowed out to even care about - let alone register - the words that came out of his slippery mouth.

”No,” was all that came out of Shane’s.

”First,” I begin, “I can just open doors now, apparently.”

”That wasn’t a question,” Shane responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice, but the sight of the bridge just feet away lifted my morale instead of dimming it. Dimming it in the way it would have if there was no escape in reach.

“How?” I ask, suddenly shaky from the drop in temperature. I grimace. The sun was setting. And it was December.

”How what?” He says, and I cock my head at the back of his jacket. A small but noticeable 2-inch tear stretches across the bottom of it, right near the stitching.

“How can I just open doors?!” I embrace my body, my arms slipping over my stomach and resting at my sides to preserve what little warmth I had left in me.

Shane stops. I stop.

He turns, only slightly; the side of his face is just barely exposed to me, and he opens his mouth.

But nothing comes out. 

Shane's mouth moves as if he is talking, but everything has dulled; even the sounds of the water in the stream beside us quiets. The only thing I can hear is the faint beating of a drum. The confusion must be written all over my face because Shane cocks his head as if to say 'what's wrong with you'.

The drum gets progressively louder, its beat strange albeit alluring. Too alluring to focus on anything else.

'What the fuck?' I see Shane mouth, his body twisting in every direction, trying to locate the origin of this newfound, and curious, musical pulsation.

Then I hear it.

An echoing synth of some sort carrying out a mystifying tune and melody. It bubbles in and out with the beat of the drum, creating an almost dizzying effect. 

Shane walks backwards to me, extending his arm in a protective way. His head whips over to me and I see it in his eyes. Fear.

'Can you hear me?'.

'No!'.

And then Shane's face contorts, first out of confusion. Then shock. And right as I'm about to mouth at him again, his arms fling all the way to his back.

I look down at my hands and realize I'm beginning to lose feeling in my fingers. And then I'm spun around and facing the same direction he is.

My arms hurl upwards into the air, and something tickles each individual finger of mine. 

I squirm and try to remove myself from this invisible force, but find it's impossible to do anything.

Then I remember the synth, the rhythmic beat. It had quieted down and for a moment, I truly believe I dreamt it.

I twist my head to see Shane looking back at me, his eyes nearly bulged out from terror.

The numbing releases from my fingers, and I go to reach out to Shane, but the color erases from my face as soon as I turn to look at him.

One by one, random strands of Shane's hair lift slowly from the peak of his head, and he looks as if he's been electrocuted.

Suddenly, the dream I thought I had dreamt crashes down on me, and the beat and synth from earlier return, now much louder and more chaotic, the thumping of the beat now a smorgasbord of kick drums, snares and cymbals.

The synth buzzes vibrantly all around us, and we cower under the musical attack.

And then it stops. 

"What the fuck is going on!" Shane screams, and shock fills my body as I come to the most pleasant understanding that I can hear him!

But the excitement quickly vanishes, the confusion for everything that had just happened taking full priority.

I rub my hands together like a lost fly and feel the overwhelming need to zip across the air, fleeing from the possibility of a much bigger threat.

But I don't. I don't zip like a fly. Because I can't.

A murmuring, slightly muffled laugh, reverberates off the nearby bush, and Shane and I turn in unison, staring at it in awe.

The small and defenseless animal hops out of the bush and dashes for the trees. 

“It’s just a damn rabbit!” Shane yells.

”Are you really choosing to worry about a rabbit instead of what just happened to us?” Like the rabbit, I begin hurrying towards the bridge. 

But when I reach it and am about to step on, I stop myself and realize the bridge is no longer a bridge.

”What is happening!” I shriek, jumping back from the now fiery bed of flames heading right towards us! 

“Run!” Shane screams, and I don’t waste any time.

We’re heading back towards Z’s while the sound of the fire assures me that it’s rapidly on our heels.

I turn my head to see how close it is to us.

”What the fuck are you doing?!” Shane yelps as I come to a stop,  nearly running into my back. 

I just point.

Shane turns around and shakes his head in disbelief.

There’s no fire.

Was there ever a fire? 

A giggle is heard from behind.

We turn around again, facing the block of ice we just came from, and try to find the source of the sound.

The giggle grows louder. We lift our heads and, at the top of the 20-feet-high ice block, a head of silver hair moves quickly, disappearing instantly.

”Was that Z?” I turn to Shane and massage both arms with my hands. Snow has begun to fall.

Shane’s eyes darken with rage. With a shake of his head, he walks backwards, eyes trained on the top of the block.

I do the same, and when we’re side by side again, we’re far away enough to see up the hill of ice.

”You know, I don’t think you’ll spot anything up there!” A honeyed voice says from behind.

Shane and I whip around speedily, his arms stretched out in front of him, his hands turning into fists. 

Nothing. Except the bushes, the bridge, the trees from the creepy magic forest dancing side to side from beyond.

“That view is better, but it’s no plate of prismatic pancakes!” The same fruity voice pipes up yet again. This time, the voice is everywhere, a surround-sound. 

“This isn’t Z,” Shane states, head twirling. “But Z likely knows who it is. He has to.”

I close my eyes and think very hard. I wish for a door to home to appear. I would open it with my mind in a heartbeat.

I open my eyes and find myself staring into the black eyes of someone else. I jump back, my hand flying and coming into contact with Shane’s back.

“Fuck!” He screams.

The person - if I could even call them that - stood politely in front of us, their thin and veiny hands folded at their hips. Wearing a bright orange and blue checkered button down blouse and black slacks, they stood out among the ice. 

“Lovely hair.” They gesture theatrically at Shane.

Shane’s hair was still spiked like a skunk. I notice now that the man’s hair in front of us looks identical.

”I’m surprised it’s still holding, considering the miserable lack of hairspray.” 

At the sight of our frozen faces, the man giggles again, the taut skin of his cheeks growing the softest shade of ruby.

He plops down on the powdery snow and gestures for us to do the same. 

Hesitantly do we lower ourselves to the ground, our eyes glued to the mystery man all the way down.

“Fantabulous. Now hold onto your hats!” The man waves fast, and the ground beneath us gives even faster.

And then we’re falling. 

Falling, falling, further down into the earth. The smell of soil fills my nose.

I try to grab for Shane but realize in horror that he’s not beside me anymore.

Looking down, I see no end.

”Aw, did you really think I’d let you die?” The voice is everywhere again, and I’m about ready to throw up from exhaustion, verbal abuse and disappearing mystery men.

I see the end of my fall slowly coming into view and, despite what the strange man said, brace for impact, my death near and certain.

I fold my hands and recite old hymns despite my lack of belief in religion, my eyes closing in anticipation.

But my death doesn’t come. I don’t splat against the hot core, melting to its terrain.

I open my eyes and it’s so bright I need to shield myself using my arm.  

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve toyed with my dinner enough, haven’t I?” The voice returns, and acid from my stomach exits my mouth and lands on the ground. I’m back on solid ground, but I’m not where I was before I fell into the earth.

I rub my eyes in shock, hoping to see Shane but feeling empty at the lack of him.

”See? A joke! I’m funny!” The man materializes in front of me.

I take in my new surroundings and pinch my skin. Is this yet another fabrication of my mind?

The cave I’m in is claustrophobic at best. Another chilly space with no room to breathe. 

“Where am I? Where’s Shane? Who are you?!” I feel my mind wanting to break.

The man with the silver hair and familiar features grinned and leaned against the icy wall in front of me. 

“Too many questions, let’s stick with one for now.” He examines his cuticles briefly before blowing on them.

I decide on the most important: 

“Where’s Shane?” 

The man grins again. “He’s right in front of you, of course!”

And instantly Shane appears inches from me, his face full of frustrated anger. As soon as he realizes that I see him, his face softens, relieved.

“Oh, thank Yoba, I was waving my hands for-“ Shane stops himself and whips around to face the strange man. 

Pointing a finger at him, Shane speaks. “Stop fucking with us and let us go. We have shit to do.”

”Too bad, so sad.” The man yawned, his breath flying out like smoke. “While your emotions excite me, I’m afraid I’ll just have to quit my dilly-dallying, as fun as this is.”

He bounces off the wall, does a somersault in the air, and drops graciously back on the ground.

“So!” He cocks his head dramatically. “How did you find me?“

Shane and I gawk at each other. 

“What are you talking about?” Shane folds his arms and stands in complete defiance.

The man yawns again. “Okay, I suppose I found you, but that’s neither here or there. I’m C!”

”No, you’re not, I just came from his lair!” I grimace, slowly shaking my head.

”C, you deaf child, C! Crazy, calamitous, contortionist— C! Z can host quite the party, though, when he so desires it.”

”There’s another omnispirit in Pelican Town?” My shoulders drop as I turn to Shane in helplessness. Shane doesn’t look my way.

”You’re so adorable, you think you’re still in Pelican Town.” C chuckles to himself.

”Welcome to Italy! Well, not really Italy, but that’s the first place I thought of when I picked out the place.” He gestures to the cave that I’m certain is slowly shrinking in size. 

“You’re correct, however, I am an omnispirit. And I’m very, deeply lonely.” He frowns and clutches at his heart. 

“But now you’re here!” He exclaims, gesturing at us.

”And now we’re leaving, because there’s an emergency and our friend is missing, and you’re going to escort us out of here!” I begin walking but soon come to the realization that there aren’t any exits. In fact, there aren’t any entrances, either. We’re encased in and surrounded by an entire dome of ice, with no way of escaping.

C frowns again at me, almost mockingly. “Must be nice to have a friend.”

”I didn’t see you, how did I not see you?” Shane says quietly. 

C winks playfully. “Thanks to my powers, you couldn’t see me comin’. And ya never will!”

”But alright,” he inspects his nails again. “I’ll let you go.”

I blink and we’re back at the bridge. I find Shane’s side and grab at his arm.

”Omnispirit’s just don’t let humans go like that. Stay with me. Hurry.” And we’re off, running across the bridge and into the creepy magic forest, and we don’t stop until we’ve reached the other side. 

“Take it!” He beckons, and I grab the shard he pulled out from his jacket and tossed at me. He yells the similar sounding incantation.

We throw our shards to the ground, the taste of coconut fills my mouth, and the flash of light blinds me.

When my vision is restored, we’re back in the Secret Woods. 

I’m ready to collapse and Shane seems to sense my giving up.

”Keep! Moving!” He grabs my hand and we’re running past the Slimes for what feels like forever until we’re finally free from the swamp-like magic trap. 

I stare at the white wonder. Cindersnap Forest never looked so beautiful.

”I’m free!” I collapse onto the snow, my face turning to ice. 

“Leah.” Shane calls out to me from behind. “We need to talk about what just happened. He made us see things. It wasn't real, any of it.”

I stay frozen in the snow, unmoving but content. I also know he’s right.

He clears his throat and I begrudgingly sit up in my spot, snow clinging to my body. He has my full attention.

”We need to talk about Claire.”

Chapter 21: Side Effects

Harvey

 

 

She takes the medicine from me and plops it into her mouth. After swallowing it with a swig of water, she lays down on the hospital bed, her head falling onto the pillow, the blanket underneath her firm and creaseless. She’ll use it if she needs it, I think. I nod curtly and make my way out of the room, the realization of how it wasn’t too long ago that she occupied that same bed dawning on me. I close the door behind me and am greeted with an anxious looking Shane standing in the hallway.

”Is she okay?” He doesn’t look right to me, his mind understandably elsewhere. 

“She’ll be fine. She’s been awake for nearly three days, but she’ll live.” I walk past him and into the main lobby, finding my chair at the counter and picking up my still-warm mug of coffee, bringing it to my lips.

”Three days?” Shane repeats me from behind. I nod again.

”Give her some time. Come back tomorrow."

I set the mug down. "You might want to see Lewis. He came by earlier asking for you.”

”Why’d he come here?” Shane asks, rounding the counter and looking at me from the other side.

I choose a pen from the cup at my right and proceed to write on my clipboard. "Well, that should be a rather easy question to answer." I look up from my clipboard. "You've been volunteering for the clinic this past week, so he expects you here."

I cock my head at him. "Unless you think he should be made aware of the secret outings you've been taking recently?"

Shane's eyes darken from across the desk. "We agreed that if you kept my whereabouts a secret, I would keep yours a secret." He crosses his arms.

I glare at him. "When did you become a backstabber, Shane?"

Shane shakes his head fervently. "I'm not. But I could be. If you make things difficult."

I toss the pen across the desk and remove myself from my chair. I make my way over to the double doors and stop. I look back at him.

"Let me know when you find Claire."

And I meant it.

 

 

Shane

 

 

"Let me know when you find Claire," Harvey says condesendingly before walking away, and I use every ounce of patience that I have to stand firm in my spot. 

When the door closes behind him, I look over at his desk and spot his clipboard. I grab it.

Only one word is written in cursive on the top of the prescription page.

'Doxepin'.

Chapter 22: The Place Where This Path Leads

Leah

 

 

The ocean of sweat I wake up in makes me panic, and I feel my hair sticking to the sides of my face. I'm not sure I can feel my legs, despite them still being attached to me.

Just to make sure, I lift my head from the pillow and strain my eyes on the bottom half of my body. In the grey of the room, I spot two long lumps under the blanket.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I sigh in relief.

I wiggle my legs, see them move from underneath the scratchy cotton-like material, and feel certain I'm not paralyzed.

The room is dark, save for the little blip of light coming in from the gaps in the blinds, but as my eyes adjust, the room looks more familiar. You’ve been here before. 

A sound catches me off guard. A squeak of a chair moving. I squint, and locate the door out of here. Out to the rest of the clinic. Out to freedom. Out to Claire.

And then, in the corner closest to me, something moves. An outline of a chair starts to take form.

“Shane?” I say into the dark, my voice coming out deep and raspy.

The person moves in the chair, and I see them leaning in. And then I see that they’re looking in my direction.

My eyes widen. “Claire!”

The face of the woman I’ve only just started to get to know is staring right at me! Her full cheeks and aquiline nose, the small display of freckles littered randomly across her face as if she’d just been kissed by an angel.

And then she's gone. Like a ghost who’d just found out his new reality, she's disappeared from the physical world. She's disappeared from me.

”Claire! Come back!” But I knew. I knew she was gone.

I grab the blanket and toss it to the side, willing my legs to move but struggling under the weight of distress.

I’m climbing out of the hospital bed when the door opens, the light from the hallway flooding in. 

Dr. Harvey stands at the doorway, his hand on the knob. “Is everything alright, Leah?”

His words were meaningful, they showed concern. But there’s something in his eyes that tell me he was in the middle of something. 

“I’m okay.” I look at the chair in the corner.

”Would you like some water?” He asks, and I turn to look at him and almost flinch. He’s a lot closer than he was two seconds ago.

I’m about to shake my head ‘no’ but a cough slips from me, and the dryness in my throat is now impossible to ignore.

“Yes, please.” And the doctor nods curtly before turning and exiting the room. He doesn’t close the door.

I turn back to the corner- full of wishful thinking- and hang my head solemnly when I take in the empty chair and lack of angel kisses.

”I’m going to find you. I have to.” I say to myself, to Claire, to nobody. 

“Here’s your water.” Dr. Harvey materializes in front of me with a styrofoam cup in hand, and I take it from him. A few drops of water cling to the outside of the cup, and I relish at the cooling effect it has on me. 

I sip, I swallow, I look at the corner. 

“You were asleep for over a day.” He mentions, and I nod. That makes sense. 

”Are you hungry?” He goes to sit down in Claire’s chair. I shake my head.

”Are you sure? Penny has made more muffins and cookies than any bake sale I’ve ever seen.” An attempt to make me laugh, probably, but I can’t. I don’t know how.

But I smile, to make him feel better. “A muffin sounds good. Is it poppyseed?”

“And blueberry, and chocolate, and-“

”I’ll take twelve.” Harvey laughs and I even hear myself chuckle. A genuine one.

“I’ll be right back with that muffin.” The doctor gets up from Claire’s chair and moves toward the door. When he reaches it, he stops and turns around to face me. 

He looks as though he wants to say something, but he seemingly decides against it and continues walking. He doesn’t close the door.

Whether whatever he wanted to tell me was important or not, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t kindle in the slightest to the flame that I woke up to. 

I sit up in the bed, and a yawn escapes me. Slowly, I feel my throat expand, allowing the fatigue to make its way up and out of my body.

Claire’s chair continues to be empty, and the things I need to tell her grow more and more intense inside me. 

Claire, if you’re sentient and all-powerful, like the omnispirit’s, then maybe you can hear me. Maybe the ghost of your face just now was really you, reassuring me from somewhere in Stardew Valley that you’re not completely gone. 

Claire, if you can hear me..

I wish I could kill myself inside, because maybe someone new will grow in my place.

Chapter 23: A Late Harvest

Caroline

 

 

The ground is unreliable from last night’s rainfall, but I don't mind-I skip over the black ice and reach the porch with ease. I knock twice at the door, hear a small commotion inside, and wait patiently.

When a minute passes, I think about knocking again when a figure pops out from the side of the house.

"Oh, Emily, what a nice surprise!" I walk down the steps and find myself in the tricky snow once again.

"Oh." Emily smiles faintly at me, wearing a bulky jacket, just like me. "Hi there."

"Is Claire home?" I rub my gloved hands together, seeking warmth.

The girl chews on her lip before shaking her head. "No, I'm afraid not. No one's seen her. I've been tending to her farm in her absence." She gestures to the space around her.

Now it's my time to bite my lip. "She was supposed to have my order ready today. Well," I shrug, "it was supposed to be ready two days ago. I figured I'd stop by and see for myself."

Emily scratches her head. "Uh, maybe I can find the order for you? What did you order?"

"A bottle of Cranberry Wine."

Emily turns her head and looks at the farmhouse. "Maybe it's inside."

I nod and watch as she climbs up the stairs and opens the door to Claire's house.

A whiff of something rich and sweet wafts deliciously in the air. Mmm, I wonder if Emily has been making hot chocolate.

"Would you like to come in?" She asks, standing at the open door. A small, bright, circular being, pops its head out the side of the door from inside the house. 

"Sure," I say, my eyes still trained on the breathing green apple with eyes.

"What is that?" I point, nearing the door.

"Hm?" Emily turns around and looks down at the seemingly sentient, abnormally-sized pea. 

"Oh, that's Stinky, Claire's pet junimo." Emily walks past the unripe and overly plump avocado and disappears into the kitchen.

"Hello, uh, Stinky." I peer down at the junimo, its curious eyes blinking rapidly up at me.

I move cautiously into the hallway, the same smell from earlier growing stronger, until the blob of green becomes a distant memory, and find myself standing in front of the island countertop. 

Emily is rummaging through a chest near the refrigerator, and while she does that, I glance inquisitively at the layout: the small but practical kitchen, the large and predominantly comfy cushions in the living room, and blankets strewn across each and every surface. 

I walk slowly into the living room and spot a scraggly striped scarf being cuddled by another colorful blob. 

"I didn't know Claire housed cave beings." I stare at the purple junimo. It stares back at me.

"I don't think they're from the Mines, actually," says Emily from behind.

And then a moment later:

"Ah, found it!" 

I whip around and move towards her, my hands reaching greedily for the wine.

“Oh thank Yoba,” I bring the bottle up to my cheek, the rim of it digging into my skin. “And this looks perfect. Here’s to hoping Abigail doesn’t get into it this time.” I force a laugh, Emily grins sheepishly, an awkward silence follows.

”Do you two get along?” I say, breaking the silence. Emily raises a brow.

”Who?” She asks, and I purse my lips in thought.

“You and my daughter, I mean. Do you— well, have you girls ever—“

“We’re not all that close if that’s what you’re trying to figure out," she says. "We just haven’t connected. Not like your daughter and Claire has." She gestures to the kitchen.

I feel myself nodding to her words, dissecting everything she'd just said.

"Well, I see." I nod one last time- a finishing act -and stick a thumb out to the hallway, gesturing my leave.

The woman across from me responds physically, as if to say she'll follow me out.

"Oh, wait!" A panicked look appears on her face. "Let me take these brownies out of the oven." 

Emily rushes to the appliance and, upon opening it, moans deeply at the fragrance that escapes into the air.

She hurriedly grips the sides of the baking pan with the squirrel-themed kitchen towel that was sitting loosely on the counter, holding the edges so precisely, and in such a way that she doesn't burn herself.

"That smells heavenly, Emily!" I clutch at the wine, the aroma in this kitchen mesmerizing- overwhelming.

"Thank you, I added cocoa powder." No wonder. That's why I thought she was making hot chocolate!

"So," I begin, the thoughts in my head unraveling. "You said no one's seen Claire?"

Emily gives me a sad shake of her head once she sets the pan on the stove.

She turns towards me, plops the towel on the island in front of her, and sighs.

"It's really the strangest thing. I think I saw her Halloween night, but after that? No trace of her."

"Well, she really should come back. She can't just expect people to do things for her while she's away!"

"No, Caroline- It's not like she's gone off for vacation. A lot of us-" she glances to the side, a nervous look crossing her face. "We think she's in danger."

I squeeze the neck of the bottle. "Danger? But I overheard Lewis and Harvey earlier- oh! - which, by the way, did you hear that someone is competing against Lewis to be Mayor?"

Emily raises both of her brows in shock. "Really? Who?"

"I don't know, all I know is that he's not happy, Lewis. Funny thing is, he-"

"Wait," Emily stops me. "What were they saying about Claire?"

I stare blankly at her, my thoughts in the middle of a tango session. 

"Well, they, uh- I think Lewis said something about her visiting her hometown? I'm not quite sure."

Emily shakes her head slowly. "I don't think so. Evelyn doesn't seem to think so, either."

"Well, that woman is getting older. I wouldn't be surprised if she-"

A knock on the front door interrupts me, and Emily and I share a passing look. 

Emily moves past me and I follow her, bottle in hand.

At the door, the junimos join us and bounce lightly up and down at our ankles.

Emily looks out the peephole, and then quickly pulls back. She stares at the door, not moving a muscle.

"Well, who is it?" I pry, and Emily throws a finger up to her lips. I flinch, and throw a hand over my own.

'Clint', she mouths. And I raise a brow. 

'What's wrong?' I mouth back. She makes a frown.

"Emily, I know you're inside, can we please talk?" Clint says from the other side of the door.

"I should get going," I whisper to her, jiggling the bottle slightly.

A long-winded sigh escapes Emily, and then she proceeds to nod. She opens the door, and Clint stands there with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers. 

I raise a curious brow, send Emily a wink, and walk briskly past the nicely dressed man.

"Bye, Emily. Clint." I nod at him, but he just gawks at me.

The air is frigid, and I shrink beneath my jacket. I turn around to wave at Emily, and catch the last of her uncomfortable face before she welcomes an awkward Clint into Claire's home.

Chapter 24: In This Town

Leah

 

 

Shane lifts the glass to his mouth and closes his eyes before downing the shot. He keeps his eyes closed, despite the chaos-filled conversations livening up the saloon. 

Tonight was busy. I look over my left shoulder: Pam, Marnie, Lewis, and Harvey are sitting at one table. Lewis nods in my direction.

”I don't understand." Shane eyes me, and I turn to my mug of hot chocolate, waiting to see if he continues. Some of the cocoa had escaped over the top, and I use my thumb to glide across the rim to prevent it from dripping down any further.

When he doesn't say anything right away, I look over my right shoulder: a rowdy table of Sebastian, Sam, Elliott and Maru sit near the door. Elliott spots me and smiles.

"I saw her," I repeat myself and wave coolly at Elliott before looking back at Shane. Shane, who will likely never believe me.

If gaining his credence shows unsuccessful, I'm perfectly okay with being the only one confident in what happened in that room. In what makes zero sense, physically and realistically, but it's something that gives me hope. Something that tells me I'm on the right track- whether Shane follows me on that track or not.

I look across the counter, all the way to where it ends at the wall, and catch Emily sitting by herself. An angry looking Clint sits two tables behind her.

"That doesn't make any sense, Leah, and you know it doesn't. You were sleep deprived." He shakes his head as if he's disappointed in me.

"No, not anymore, I had my rest and I saw her. She was looking right at me, Shane."

"And what did Harvey say?" Shane looks at me as if he caught me in a lie just now. 

"Nothing, because he wasn't in the room when I saw her. And," I keep gliding my thumb over the rim of the mug. "And I didn't tell him that I saw her."

"Good."

I knit my brows together in confusion. "Good?"

"Yes, good, because I don't need anyone- especially that condescending encyclopedia with a mustache- to make assumptions about your sanity. He could diagnose you with schizophrenia and order you to stay inside at all times. Which," he pauses, cocking his head to the side in consideration, "maybe wouldn't be all that bad after all. You talk too much, and a break from you would be nice."

"You're an ass." But what he says is true, in some regard. I heed his words. "I guess you're not wrong, though."

"But what I don't understand is-" I look at Shane. He flags Gus over.

"How did you manage to drag me through a magical forest, and introduce me to hostile wizards whose hobbies include kidnapping and unlawful restraint? And then think that it would help us find Claire?"

Shane eyes me carefully. "It did help. That's the thing. Besides, I didn't think we'd run into that other guy, who, by the way, is probably still stalking us." Shane orders another shot before turning in his stool, now looking at me head on. I feel his eyes, dark and training. I continue to stare at my hot chocolate.

"If you're looking for an apology, fine, sorry. But I don't think you would have stayed, let alone follow me, if you had known what would happen."

"You're right, I wouldn't have." I scoot the mug closer to me, the whipped cream starting to dissipate in the hot liquid.

"It's just," I continue, the questions in my head intersecting and giving me a headache. "How am I supposed to adjust to everything when everyone around me is so," I struggle with trying to find the right word. "So nonchalant about everything?"

"What do you mean?" Shane asks, and then tosses his head back, inhaling his third shot of the night.

"I mean Claire is missing, and I summoned the omnispirit that took her. Why isn't anyone doing anything about it, let alone reacting to it?"

Shane's jaw clenches. "Lower your voice."

I look at him, confused. "Why?"

Shane grunts and then leans in. "Not everyone in town knows about the omnispirits, and I'd like to keep it that way," he whispers in my ear.

I stare at him. "This entire time I thought everyone knew."

"So, who?" I ask. "Who doesn't know?"

He sighs in frustration but then emphasizes behind him with his eyes, his head unmoving. I look over both of my shoulders, making eye contact with Lewis again, waving twice at Elliott.

"I don't understand." 

"You're lookin' at em'." He emphasizes again, his eyes widening, and that's when I realize it.

"Everyone here?" I raise an eyebrow in shock.

"Everyone in this town. Except for you-"

He points at me.

"And me-"

He points at himself.

"And Claire." He drops his finger and orders yet another shot.

I stare in to my now-lukewarm mug of hot chocolate, unsure of what to say next.

"What's wrong?" He questions, downing the fourth shot.

I think about my response in full; what I say next has the potential to change things, but how much, and in what capacity? I do not know, and that worries me.

"Someone else knows about the omnispirits." I utter under my breath. 

"I can't hear you." Shane cracks his neck and hails Gus over for the fifth time, but I stretch my hand out in front of him.

"It's not just us three who knows." I'm louder this time, and Shane's head turns so fast, I think it's about to fall off. He glares at me.

"Another one, Shane?" Gus asks from the other side of the counter.

"Nevermind," Shane responds, not once looking away from me. Gus shrugs and walks off.

"Who?" He demands, his eyes becoming darker and darker. With rage?

Then I feel another set of eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. Their eyes.

I whisper the name as quietly as I can. 

"Harvey."

Chapter 25: A Festive Acolyte is Born

Shane, The Next Morning

 

 

Marnie’s barn was nicely insulated despite the snow that was falling outside. I’d just finished tying one sneaker when Boots' tongue glides across my arm, his tongue razor-edged and none the helpful.

When the green-eyed grey tabby showed up at our doorstep half a year ago, Jas insisted on naming him Boots. “He doesn’t have boots, Jas,” I had told her. “I know, that's why he needs them,” she had responded, her little hands stretching out to pet his soft fur. Me and Aunt Marnie just laughed. There was no point in naming him anything else, anyway. 

But I can’t fucking concentrate when he licks me like this. And Leah's not helping either, her side eye inescapable from the other bench diagonal to mine.

After the bar last night, I told her that I needed some time to think. I told her that I needed to "digest" what she revealed to me, when really all I did was bruise the shit out of my knuckles when I punched a nearby tree after exiting the bar.

"I know you don't like this," I twirl the shoelace belonging to the other shoe and hear her sigh, and I know that's a sign I'm right.

"Stop it," I shoo Boots away, nearly coming apart at the seems from his scratchy tongue. He flinches away from me, only to come back a second later. This time I just ignore him.

I look back at Leah, who's just full-on staring at me now.

"But-" I continue. Over, under, around and through.

"I need to talk to Harvey, no matter how much you don't want me to." Meet Mr. Bunny Rabbit-

"Do you know what he told me that day? In the clinic?" Leah says, standing up.

I drop the shoe lace and lift my head to meet her gaze. "What did he tell you?" 

"He said he knew who I’d been seeing secretly. That it isn’t safe.” Leah stood in her crinkled overalls and burgundy cardigan, her face pale yet full of red. 

“I wonder if he's met C.” She gasps, bringing her hand up to her slightly puffy lips. ”Or worse.” Her face crinkles in the way her overalls do, and a worrisome expression takes over her otherwise stoic demeanor.

“It'll be fine. Just, stay here, okay? It’s better that I talk to Harvey.” I pick the shoelace up again.

”So, what else did he say?” I ask, and then curse at the shoelace escaping from my fingers.

”What do you mean?” She leans against the barn door and brushes some flyaway bangs out of her eyes.

”That’s all he said to you?” I take the laces and pull. Pull and through. Done. 

“What do you mean?” She repeats herself.

“Was that all he said? That he ‘knows who you’ve been seein’ and that ‘it’s dangerous’? Word for word?!” I stand up and Boots jumps off the bench, twisting himself around my legs and settling for the ground of hay.

Leah nods, and I place my hands on my hips.

“Did he mention a name? Did he even say who was unsafe, or prove that he knew about the omnispirits?”

Something in her face changes, as if maybe working out the conclusion I’d been slowly hurling towards.

”No,” she says curtly, standing up straighter.

I feel a weight lift from my shoulders.

”Yoba, Leah. You really had me there for a moment.” She crosses her arms and frowns, but I don’t care, I continue talking.

”If that’s all he said, then how do you know he was talking about the omnispirits?”

But then she spins around and faces the door, her hand lingering on the wood, and I hear her utter:

”I just know.” 

"Fuckin'- okay, look. I'll still go and talk to him, alright, Goldilocks?“ She rolls her eyes, but once again, I don’t fucking care. “While it's a relief he didn't actually say anything about our 'magical friends', I think it'll do some good to find out who he actually meant."

"Fine," she says, opening the barn door. Snow flies in, and Boots runs in the opposite direction. "But I have a feeling Harvey knows something."

"Then I'll be the one to do something about it." 

 

•

 

At the clinic, I wait for Harvey in the lobby. 

Maru taps at the keyboard on the other side of the desk, her eyes keenly focused on the computer screen in front of her.

”You can sit.” She gestures toward the seat behind me, but I shake my head.

”I’m fine right here.” I fold my arms across my chest and turn my gaze to the linoleum floor to avoid the bright light overhead. 

A minute passes. And then two. This asshole would make me wait, the voice inside my head says. Fucking ridiculous. 

But the double doors crosswise to the desk open, and Harvey in his white coat saunters into the lobby, his face practically glued to that clipboard of his.

He stops three steps into the room and then peers up, meeting my gaze. 

He grins innocently, but I know there's something sinister brewing underneath, just beneath the surface.

"Hello, Shane. Nice to see you. Follow me." And I do. Through the tiny ass hallway, up the lame ass staircase, and into the dumb ass room that is his. As soon as we're inside, he closes the door behind him. 

"You're not due for another check-up until early February." Harvey walks over to his table and sets his clipboard down.

”I think you’re smart enough to gather that this isn’t about my prostate.” 

A chuckle emits from Harvey, and he shakes his head, seemingly amused. 

“What do you want, Shane?” He leans against the table, his posture instantly making me think of Leah from earlier. Crinkled overalls, crinkled face.

"Actually, never mind, I do want to talk about prostates. Why'd you go and make an ass out of yourself, huh?" I take a step forward. Harvey takes a step back.

"You will have to be more specific, Shane." His eyes darken, but mine feel as black as coal.

"What did you two talk about at the clinic?" You've got him now, that voice repeats. Just another intimidating question and he'll be like putty in your hands.

He raises an inquisitive brow. "I told her lots of things, I imagine."

"You're really fucking pissing me off! You told her to stay away, but I want to know why." 

Harvey folds his arms, and an unreadable look passes his face before he opens his mouth.

"That's not something you need to worry about. We had a little talk, she and I, and if you're concerned, take it up with her." He shrugs his shoulders dispassionately.

"I did. I want to know why you'd think she's not safe around him." Risky move, using pronouns— but I'm desperate and need answers.

Harvey raises an eyebrow. "He's only going to bring destruction. She doesn't need that, none of us do."

So it is a man. Fuck, what if he is talking about Z? No, no, no, no. Harvey and I have never had a conversation about the omnispirits. He's talking about someone we both know. But who? Whatever, I've got my answer, and it's not Z.

I take a second to think about my response.

Second's up.

"Whatever. She can make her own decisions. But I don't have to like it." I give him one last scowl before I storm out of the dumb ass room, run down the lame ass stairs, and stomp through the tiny ass hallway. 

I brisk towards the front door and wave curtly to a curious Maru without glancing her way.

"Bye, Shane!" She calls out to me, but the door is already half-way shut.

Chapter 26: Phenomenon

Leah

 

 

I step out of my cabin and take a deep breath. Shane reported to me this afternoon after leaving the clinic that Harvey had nothing to say to him. I was bummed, but perhaps there is some relief to all of this. At least, I think there is. Unless Harvey is lying.

It's not at the top of my worries, Harvey knowing (or not) about the omnispirits. Because when no one is watching, I head into the Secret Woods most days, and use the shards I'd stolen from Shane's closet, wandering outside of Pelican Town in search of Claire. No one seems to care that she's been gone for so long. Not even Shane, oddly enough, despite his insistence on finding her. But it’s been two months. And though he seems to be her closest friend, all he does is work and drink. He's trusting of me, which is good in my favor, but I'm still wary of him. Maybe he'll forgive me, someday, for the shards. 

I pretend she's in front of me, Claire. Her eyes, always searching, analyzing, like it's her job to probe the deepest, darkest secrets out of me. Her crooked nose, twitching at every opportune moment. I wonder what I'd say to her if she was standing right in front of me. You know exactly what you'd say, the thought rings loudly in my head. It's what you've been dying to say, all this time.

It's almost dusk, the sky a pretty painting full of pinks and purples. I turn right and stare through the trees, admiring the branches dancing in the wind and, admiring even the wind itself- it howls like a lone wolf; the sound is subtle enough that I know it's there, but still full of power that, when I take a moment to acknowledge its existence- like right now- I realize it doesn't need my consideration or scrutiny to thrive.

I stand quietly to myself, taking in the world as I know it. I regard the snow-covered pine trees, the distant wolves communicating to each other. It's so serene, I take another deep breath.

And there, sitting down, at the edge of the pier, I see Claire alone, looking out over the lake. 

"No," I whisper. "No, it's not."

I think it's another mirage, some cruel illusion like what I experienced back in the clinic. But she turns her head, and suddenly she's looking right at me with her inquiring eyes. Her eyes search me, and then light up with recognition, and then I feel mine doing the same. But not out of recognition. Doubt. Fear. 

Claire stands up quickly, loosing her balance but catching herself at the last second, steadying herself and her feet on the wooden beams beneath her. She then races toward the snow, passes the solitary tree at the fence, whizzes by Marnie's farm, and stops joltingly just three feet away from me. The falling snow has painted her face, covering the bridge of her nose with porcelain powder. 

A silent exchange passes us. And then Claire is running- at me! She crashes into me with such force that she knocks the both of us down, down to the freezing ground. She's yelling at me, but I can't grasp what she's saying- can't bring myself to grasp her- her sudden existence. Now, here-forever? Has she been here all this time, did I daydream or make her disappearance up? How can I discern between what's real and what's fiction? 

And then she starts making sense. Her words take form before me, and I can hear what she's saying to me. To me.

"-and when I opened my eyes, I saw the lake! And then I saw you!" Her voice sounds different. Like talking to someone who has a thousand-yard stare, only voice-wise. A thousand-yard cry. Like she's been through something traumatizing. Because she has. She's had to.

"Are you okay, Leah? Can you hear me?" She asks me, her eyes full of concern and terror. As if she's about to disappear from me again. 

But she doesn't, disappear. She's still inches away from my face, her penetrating eyes searching thoroughly through mine, her aquiline nose twitching involuntarily.

In slow-motion, I see my hands rise from my sides and, crouched together in a bed of snow, I touch her. First, it's her cheeks, bright red and frozen from the snow. Then it's her shoulders, protected by a grey cashmere sweater. Claire finds my hands, holding them in place on her shoulders, and looks at me. No, not at me, into me.

"I have so much to tell you," she says in a hushed voice. I nod at her, not knowing the extent of what's she endured but knowing it couldn't have been good. 

"I have so much to tell you." A snowflake lands on my eyelash, semi-blocking my vision. Claire blows, the warmth of her puff immobolizing me; both on the inside and out.

A band of footsteps draw near, and I don't have to turn around to know who they belong to. Shane, Lewis, Harvey. 

I keep my eyes pointed at her, she keeps hers pointed at me, and we stay like that. As Shane drops to the floor and shakes Claire as though he found her unconscious and not breathing. As Lewis glares at us from a short distance, just behind Shane, cross-armed and silent. As Harvey nods knowingly-gratefully-at the sight of an old friend. We stay like that.

Eyes unmoving, ice defrosting, she smiles at me.

And instead of blurting the very thing I desperately need to say to her— which I swore would be the first thing to come out of my mouth—

My lips curl up in a grateful smile, any thought about anything disintegrating entirely, the comfort of knowing Claire is alive at all taking precedence. 

Chapter 27: The New Year Came Quietly

 

 

 

The night sky erupted in color, the booms of the fireworks going off shaking the grounds, leaving a lingering phantom effect on all who sat safely beneath the explosions. Huddled next to Shane, who had his arm slung around her shoulder, and Abigail, whose eyes were permanently glued to the show above, Claire shivered softly. The goosebumps appeared suddenly and rapidly down both arms, as if each individual goosebump was in a race against the rest, fighting for the finish line- her neck.

It was freezing, the snow falling and layering everyone with white kisses, and many villagers came prepared. The ones who didn't suffered, and were seen rubbing their arms, devoid of blankets and mittens.

Claire watched, however, as Linus stopped at each group of people, their fingers practically numbing at the tips, giving quilted blankets and scarves where they were needed. Like a warm and glowing fire, the decidedly homely homelessman provided heat and comfort, as if he had an unlimited supply to share with the world. As if he didn't already need the heat and comfort for himself.

Claire turned to her left, towards the pier, the same pier she gained sudden consciousness at just two days prior. 

The very pier that Lewis stood on now, his shoulders hunched, a scowl drawn upon his face. 

And Claire realized that he was looking directly at Linus, helping Lewis' townspeople. He must be embarrassed, Claire thought. 

And then a beat later:

Good, the voice inside her head echoed.

"Well, Happy New Year, you two!" Abigail celebrated, raising her arms and balling her hands into excited fists. 

"Happy New Year!" Shane chimed in, clinking the two bottles of beer in both of his hands together, foam spilling out onto the blanket beneath them.

Claire remained quiet, a bleak heaviness dulling her.

And as she looked around, she noticed something. Or rather, the lack of someone.

"Has anyone seen Leah?" Claire asked her friends, rubbing her gloved hands together, as if she was trying to create a spark.

Sitting smack-dab between the lake and Marnie's farmhouse, the trio scanned the forest silently. Between the celebrating villagers and the reverberation of the fireworks, it was hard to see anything aside from smoke and glee.

"Nope," Shane responded, the pop rolling off his tongue and resonating in the icy air.

Abigail shook her head, a downward smirk playing at her lips.

"I don't think I've seen her at all tonight," Abigail remarked, pulling out her phone. The screen illuminated brightly at the touch of Abigail's thumb, the glow defining her soft features.

Claire's knee began to bounce up and down, a sign of her anxiety resurfacing for the fourth time today. 

It was at breakfast this morning when she had her first panic attack. Stinky and Smelly had rounded the hallway and entered the kitchen quietly, brushing up against her leg as a way to say 'you were gone for far too long'. Instead of the warm greeting that they had grown accustomed to, the junimos didn't expect the only human that ever cared for them to drop scalding hot coffee on their miniscule bodies. Claire apologized profusely, of course-she had hoped her tiny friends knew that what she had done was not intentional.

But when the afternoon rolled around, and Evelyn had stopped by to check in on her, Claire broke down at her Nonna's feet. In a frozen, dream-like paralysis, Claire sputtered, repeating the same two words over and over again, until Evelyn had to shake her back to a safe reality. "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay..".

And her third "attack" struck her when she was out at the pig-pen, the sky getting dark as the sun started to set. She stood almost lifelessly at her pigs, the bubblegum-pink truffle producers milling around in their home. If you were to tap her on the shoulder, she may have even felt lifeless. Shane experienced that first-hand when he tried getting her to look at him. "Claire, it's almost time for fireworks," he had said to her, standing behind her at the gate. But she didn't react. She just stared, the pigs oinking, the sun setting, and her spirit breaking.

Now wedged a little too close between her friends, Claire felt her heart starting to pound involuntarily inside her chest, the next round of fireworks shooting off into the distant sky and exploding sporadically among the stars. Claire gripped at her sweater, the same one she gained consciousness with- the same one she wore when she saw Leah for the first time in months- and she wished she was one of them. Innate and functionally-splendidly-unaware of the chaos unraveling around them- she wished for that kind of anonymity.

Abigail must have noticed her friend disassociating, because Claire felt a pair of warm arms wrapping around her small frame. Forcing a smile, she laid her head underneath Abigail's chin, the sweet smell of the petunia perfume on her neck overwhelming but strong enough to distract Claire from everything else.

"It's okay, she's probably here somewhere," Abigail reassured, and Claire nodded briefly, stifling the sob that wanted desperately to escape from her throat.

"There!" Shane exclaimed, gesturing toward the beginning- or the end- of Cindersnap Forest, just where the trees meet the pathway leading to Claire's farm.

Leah lingered underneath a snow-speckled pine tree, talking to an awkward looking Harvey. Claire stared them down, suddenly feeling more alive; as if she were a fresh sprout sprinkled with Fairy Dust, she stood up. Feeling she was about to tip over, Claire extended her arms and centered herself without fail. 

"Be careful," Abigail whispered, too quiet for Claire to hear.

Claire began to walk on the snow-trodden path, but stopped to loosen one of her boots. You almost didn't come, she thought to herself. Maybe you should have stayed home.

Leah's face whipped in Claire's direction as soon as she drew near, a soft smile appearing on her face. Harvey smiled, tight-lipped, at Claire, who nodded when she arrived in front of them.

"Hi," was all she could muster, the cold of the night nearly silencing her. Something else wants to silence you too, that same voice from her head uttered.

Claire shrugged it off, the thoughts, and exhaled, the air blowing out and rising until it broke off into the sky.

"We're so happy you're back, Claire," Harvey said, reaching out and placing a rough & calloused hand on Claire's right shoulder.

"Can I talk to Claire alone?" Leah said, her voice sounding differently than before. Claire brushed it off like she did her thoughts, and looked to Harvey, who wore an odd and unreadable expression.

"Sure." He nodded in Claire's direction and then waved to Leah before making his departure, finding the sidelines and disappearing quickly in the snow.

Claire turned back to face Leah, who also bore an indecipherable look. But a smile quickly paved over any unease that Claire might have had.

"Hi." Leah looked honestly into Claire's eyes.

"Hi." Claire rubbed an arm, finding warmth but losing it as a sudden icy breeze chilled by.

Claire opened her mouth. “I think there's-"

But Claire couldn't get the rest of her sentence out because Leah had taken ahold of her hand, pulling her backwards and towards the sea of people.

Wordlessly, they walked across the snowy terrain, passed a curious Shane and Abigail, and stopped right in front of Leah's cabin, her door decorated with a holiday wreath. The words 'Good Tidings' curved around the garland in fake berries and acorns, the edges littered with fake cobwebs, likely forgotten from Halloween. Claire grinned at the sight. Or maybe Leah must not have been able to get all the cobwebs off, she wondered, suppressing a laugh. It felt untimely to express such a reaction right now, almost as if she was attending a funeral. But whose? The thought came jarringly. 

"I thought maybe we could use some time alone, just us two and not everyone else trying to talk to you." Leah fidgeted in her coat, and Claire smiled. She could at least do that.

As Leah took out the key to her cabin, Claire sniffled and looked across her shoulder. 

The mayor still stood broodingly on the pier, but he wasn’t glaring bitterly at Linus anymore.

He was looking at her instead.

Chapter 28: But Not Quiet Enough

Leah

 

 

The newfound warmth in the cabin is welcoming-a stark difference from the freezing temperatures outside-but not quite as hot as my neck feels. I turn around and watch Claire close the door, her body stiff as a pin. I think there was a kind of fluidity about her once- a sort of limber but capable nature to her that engrossed me the moment I saw her. The kind of disposition that, if pressured, could endure the most major of terror and survive it all in the end. But the woman standing in front of me, locking my door, feels unfamiliar.

When she spins back around at me, her arms are wrapped tightly around her body, the chill from outside still emanating off of her. 

"I'm going to start a fire, do you want some hot chocolate?" I ask, removing my down jacket and hooking it up on the wall.

"Sure," she says standing in place, her hands folded at the waist.

I head over to the standing lamp near my bed and turn it on, warm light flooding the space immediately. I turn around and Claire still hasn't moved from her spot-almost like she was a mannequin, incapable of doing or being anything else-waiting for someone to come along and move things for her.

"Make yourself comfortable." I take the unruly bird's nest that is my hair, pile it on the top of my head, squeeze the bun in place, and curse. The hair tie that usually adorns my wrist is gone.

I march across the floor until I'm standing in front of my bookcase, glazing over each shelf until I find the tiny glass bowl that holds my accessories. I snatch greedily at a random hair tie and secure my hair impatiently. I pause, immediately questioning my impatience. Is it because I haven't had Claire in my cabin for months? Or maybe it's that she's here right now. Maybe it's because everything that has happened during her absence has changed everything I know, everything that once felt safe. 

Nothing is safe. A familiar voice snaps in my head. A voice that isn't mine. Mother's.

I swallow uncomfortably, but send a reassuring smile Claire's way. When I notice that she's no longer standing idly at the entrance, I panic, but only momentarily. My eyes find her instantly, at my bed. At the edge, her gaze is pointed at the floor. There's a cold and hollow look in her eyes- a look that only someone who's experienced near-or actual-death could possess. I should make that hot chocolate.

I walk over to the fireplace and lean down by the opening, but not without grabbing the matches from the mantle first. Log, newspaper, match, check.

I toss the lit stick into the firebox and watch as it forms a spark, which then culminates into a beautiful threat: a flame. 

"Never seen a fire before?" A voice calls out from the other side of the room, and I fear that the person who barely raised me has come back for me, to take me away. But the familiar chuckle that follows rips me from my thoughts, and the panic subsides. I remind myself it's just Claire and I in the cabin tonight.

And Claire just cracked a joke.

I face her and can't stop the grin from creeping up. "It's beautiful." I hold my gaze with her, the moment lasting a second longer than I thought it would, but she drops her eyes back to the floor the second I take note of it, and I steer mine back to the fire.

The tension in the room has lifted, but only slightly. Still, the temporary break from my obtrusive memory is welcoming, and I cling to it.

"The fire," I begin, standing up and admiring the new source of heat. "The fire should help."

I pad across the room, making sure to avoid the broken floorboard in the middle of the kitchen. I still can't believe Elliott brought Gunther's typewriter with him last week and thought holding onto it, instead of giving his arms a break, was a good idea. When Jodi dropped off a container full of just-because lasagna weeks ago, Elliott volunteered to pick it up and bring it back to her-saying he was in the area. He'd walked in, taken the empty Tupperware, and then proceeded to drop both the container and the ten-pound electronic typewriter right on my pretty oak flooring.

Maneuvering to the fridge, I fish out the milk and whipped cream, shaking my head at the lighthearted memory. I guess this means he still hasn't found his computer yet. 

"Is crushed peppermint on top okay?" I yell over my shoulder, setting the beverage ingredients down on the counter and closing the fridge.

When I don't hear anything, I bite the inside of my cheek, immediately tasting blood. Be patient with her, I remind myself. I wince and swallow, the bitterness of the iron coating-staining-my tongue. 

Once the pot of milk is on the stove, I grab the container of peppermints next to the flowerpot of dead zinnias. I frown-I can't recall when or how I got them.

The sound of my bed squeaking catches my attention. Whether it was the paranoia seeping in, tempting me to believe she'd just vanished right in front of me again, or just the awkward tension in the room-because let's face the here and now, things feel different despite her being back-I expect to come face-to-face with a Claire-less cabin. But she has neither vanished nor escaped from me.

Because instead of the nightmare that I fully anticipate to turn around to, I’m met with a falling teardrop. I watch as it makes its descent down her cheek and lands softly to the floor. A second one falls quickly after the first. 

My legs kick into gear and carry me over to her, my hands finding her shoulders and squeezing. Between her tears, Mother finds me again, cutting into my thoughts- my privacy. 

You can't keep avoiding me forever, Lee- come on out!

I shake my head to get rid of her, and force myself to focus on Claire only. Claire, who finds my chest and stains my shirt with her damp face.

"I'm sorry, your shirt-" she tries to apologize but I don't allow it. I continue shaking my head.

Mother tries to force herself into my head again but I grind her back down into dust; without taking form, she can't hurt me.

"Leah?" A voice-not Mother's-pulls me back to reality. A safe reality.

And then I realize I've had my eyes closed. When I open them, Claire blurrily comes into view. First-her hair, dark and curly. Second-her eyes, penetrating and troubled. Third-her lips, uneven and melancholic.

"Thanks for having me." Claire looks up at me, tear-streaked. I smile and nod.

But my eyes zigzag everywhere, everywhere except her. I'm not ready for her to know about that night. Not now, I think to myself. Not on New Years-- not when she needs me.

Hands press up against each cheek, and I'm forced to look at her.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her thumb caressing the tender spot beneath my eye, and I pull away from her.

"I'm okay." I don't know if I mean it.

She pats the bed beside her and I lower myself down until I'm sat on top of the mattress, positioned directly in front of her and avoiding her gaze.

A beat passes.

"I can't remember," Claire starts, her voice coming out shaky. "I can't remember anything."

"What do you mean?" I pick at the hem of my shirt and stare mindlessly at the foot of the bed, the fire casting dancing shadows on the floor.

"When I was gone." She spits the last word out, her body now taking on an entirely different energy-heat; anger.

"It was like I was just here with you," she continues, and I think about Halloween night. Her Barbie inspired costume, the chili competition-

"And then I wasn't. And I can't remember anything." Claire's breathing is erratic, and so is mine.

"It's okay," I say, and this time I mean it. It wasn't your fault.

"It's the furthest thing from okay." She forces a laugh. "But you're here.”

I feel myself nodding, agreeing with her, but I can't quite meet her gaze.

“And now I need to be." She's looking at me, I know it-I can feel it. "For you."

"Did you disappear too?" Claire places her hand over mine, and I finally look up at her. Disappear?

I'm about to shake my head when Claire flinches, a gasp flying out of her mouth.

"The hot chocolate!" She sputters, pointing her finger at the kitchen.

"Dammit!" I leap across the room until I'm standing in front of the stove, the smell hitting my nose.

"It's curdled." My shoulders fall. "So much for a cozy start to the New Year."

I feel Claire walk up from behind and when I turn to frown at her, she's laughing.

I groan the entire time-removing the pot from the burner to pouring the contents down the drain. I then crank the water all the way to the left and wait for it to boil.

I'm scrubbing at the burnt marks on the bottom of the pan when I hear a lid drop on the counter. Claire pulls out a peppermint and pops it in her mouth. I roll my eyes.

"No," I tell her, finally responding to her question.

She eyes me curiously, and I drop the pan in the sink. "I didn't disappear. And I kind of wish I had."

A quick intermission; an exchanging of looks-her inquisitive stare holding penetrative power.

"From meeting sadistic wizards in the woods to getting directly involved with town drama, a lot has happened."

A ghost of a grin appears on Claire's lips. "You've met Z."

I groan and busy myself with the pot again, its charred bottom angering me the more I scrub. I squirt more dish soap into it.

"C, too." I scrub with fervor, feeling Claire's demeanor change next to me. 

"C?" She sneaks another peppermint from the mason jar.

"Another omnispirit. I'm still trying to process the other one." I remove him from my thoughts just as quick as he entered them.

"Huh, I don't remember there being another one."

"Shane's worried C is stalking us, but until I start hallucinating, I'm staying unbothered."

I ogle at the pot in the sink and sigh. "Hope you're enjoying those mints, I've given up on hot chocolate."

Claire snickers. "You're fine, don't worry about it. I'm warm enough as it is."

"So," she says, finding the dining table and sitting down in one of the chairs, the mason jar of mints tightly secured in the nook of her arm. "How was Z's?"

"Don't want to talk about that." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and place the pot upside down on the drying rack, the one Penny gifted me at the start of Fall- when I first moved here to Pelican Town. 

"What did he give you?" She raises a wiggly brow, and I know what she's referring to.

I lean awkardly against the counter and eye the front door. But I don't do it. I can't.

"Well, let's just say you'll never have to open another door ever again." I roll my eyes and shake my head. 

"You can open doors telepathically?" She stands up and moves to the front door. Oh, come on.

Standing in front of it, she gestures at it, looking at me. "Open it!" 

"No." I stand firmly in place, not budging.

"Why?" She looks at me like I'm crazy, and maybe I am. 

"Because," I step out of the kitchen but only to get back to the bed. After sliding on top, I give her a look. 

"I don't want anything to do with magic." I look at my hands and try to rationalize the power I somehow possess.

I'm prepared for an onslaught of 'just open the door' and 'can't you just show me?' but all she utters is a soft 'okay'.

"That was easy." I lay down, my head hitting the pillow.

"But if I accidentally shut the door on my hand, you'd open it, right?" I hear her laugh, and it almost takes away the stress that was the entirety of last year.

"I imagine I'd simply open the door with, you know, my hands?"

"Anyway," I close my eyes, feeling the exhaustion take over but forcing myself to stay awake. I don't want this New Years to end, despite every bone in my body tempting me to call it a night.

"What happened? Are you really doing okay?" I ask her, feeling the tension return to the cabin as soon as the words come out of mouth.

Mayor Lewis held a meeting the night Claire came home, and while she may have said that she told the truth-about blacking out Halloween night and remaining unconscious the entire time-a faraway look washes over her face every time someone asks if she's okay. 

Like now.

"Yeah." But that's all she says, and I know now that it's bullshit. It has to be.

I sit up and see she's moved closer to the bed, her hand placed on the same bedpost as before.

The laugh lines on her face that I had started to memorize has tapered off. I find myself waiting, each time she glances away, for her to look at me again, just in case she smiles or laughs at me. Just to familiarize myself even more with her. 

"Yeah." I repeat, looking in her eyes. She reciprocates, and then a small grin appears.

The moment between us is nice, but I can't help myself. Can't help the words that tumble out of my mouth. Something is gnawing at me. Something I can't quite place.

"Are you sure you were unconscious the whole time?" There it is. There's no turning back now.

I watch as her face changes; the twitch of her nose and her eyes darkening points to the possibility of things being more complicated than I thought they were.

"Yes." She looks to the floor and I push even more.

"So G just kept you captive, just like what Z did to me? And you didn't see anything, hear anything?"

"Hey, remember how you didn't want to think about Z? Well, I don't want to think about what happened."

"So, something did happen. And I didn't say think- I said I didn't want to talk. There's a difference."

"Nothing happened. I wish I had answers for you, Leah, but guess what, I don't. I was here and then I wasn't-"

"But that doesn't just happen!" I move off the bed and stand in front of her, arms crossed.

"It did to me." She glares at me, and I wonder if I made a mistake just now grilling her about it.

She walks briskly toward the front door but doesn't open it. I think she's going to, but she remains as still and straight as a pin as she did early tonight, closing the door, cold and lifeless.

And then she turns. Just a little, so that her profile is exposed to me.

She's looking out over the living room, the curly ends of her hair resting at the top of her shoulders. Her earlier annoyance seems to have faded.

"Promise you won't tell?" She has now turned and is fully looking at me, the room suddenly heavy. Or maybe it had been this dense all along, and I was just now coming to terms with it.

I nod firmly.

"This isn't gossip, this isn't a conversation over tea and biscuits. If I do this-" she closes her eyes as if silently debating with herself. "If I do this, then it means you're my person. Not Shane, not Abi." Something in my chest stops and then starts again. Yes, yes, yes! Let me be your person, Claire.

"I wouldn't dream of betraying your trust, Claire." I take a step forward. I wouldn't dream of hurting you, ever. 

She continues to stare at me. Let me be your person.

Until:

"Don't burn it this time, but-you might want to make another pot of hot chocolate."

Chapter 29: Curdled Milk

 

 

 

The new days' sunrise peaked through the blinds and casted a thin warm glow over the bed. The fireworks had stopped hours ago, the commotion of celebrating villagers dying down shortly after. New Years was exciting, but not quite in the way that Claire expected. Not in the way she had hoped. 

Jas and Vincent will run around the firecrackers, Claire remembered predicting the day prior. The sky will light up, every color of the rainbow will be emphasized and blown up for all to see, and the booming peonies and willows in the night sky will momentarily distract us from our lives. 

Now, Claire shook her head at her past convictions. I can't believe this is happening, she thought in numb disbelief, looking across the way at the auburn-haired woman who she had now officially crowned protector of her secrets. Only, now, it was time to unravel those secrets—time to set them free. I wonder what I did to get here, she thought, hiding her fear behind a smile. How can I do this? How can I explain what happened to me? How will I?

Claire inhaled the steam emanating from her cup of hot chocolate before clearing her throat. Just get it out, the voice echoed in her head. Every time she tried to recount her memories tonight—and failed—a trip to the microwave was warranted. “It helps me think”, she told Leah an hour ago when she found herself standing in front of the microwave, popping the lukewarm mug in for a minute and a half. And when it was hot again, she brought the mug back to the twin-sized bed, the steam rising to the tip of her nose and tickling it—only for her to get lost in her head again—which rendered her reticent—and the process repeated itself two more times.

Leah sat across from her on the bed just inches away, her legs buckled, and her knees touching her chin. Her own cup sat on the end table beside the bed, untouched.

"It was dark when I finally came to," Claire started and found her gaze moving towards Leah's window. Perched on a tree branch outside, two Mourning Doves began their own morning song.

"Nothing looked familiar, and for a while I thought I was alone." Claire turned to her mug, no longer desperate for a sip. Was it the duration of time that had passed that made her forget ever wanting the hot chocolate in the first place? Was it ever supposed to help? Was the hot chocolate ever really a factor in any of this? Claire continued to stare, but felt herself slipping back into reality- the here and now. "But I wasn't."

"G." Leah hid behind her knees, an almost maniacal look brewing in her eyes. 

Claire just looked at her, unable to react. Maybe she had hoped Leah would say it for her. The answer to her question—the answer that kept echoing in Claire's head.

She brought the mug to her lips and took a long sip, hoping the hot chocolate would soothe the tremors underneath her skin. Her eyebrows knitted even closer together now, her thoughts an endless cesspool of things she'd rather not dwell on and the familiar sweetness of the drink. 

Claire didn't have to look up to know Leah was waiting for more. She held tightly onto her mug and closed her eyes. I hope I'm making the right decision. 

"Do you know what it's like to be alive and dead at the same time?" Looking up from her cup, Claire eyed Leah for a reaction, receiving only a raised brow and silence in response.

"To have a beating heart but a decaying body," she continued, her eyes zigzagging across Leah's face. "Body. Mind. Everything." 

"And you know you're alive—you know you're breathing and conscious but there's no feeling in your fingers." Claire rubbed over a chip in the mug with her thumb, deepening the chip with each swipe.

"Like you've been hollowed out." Leah nodded slowly like she was in a trance, her gaze slipping off and settling on the mattress.

"That's what it felt like when he appeared." Claire shuddered at the memory, but she knew she had to continue- to tell her story- in order to rid herself of the fear, disgust- the filfth- that claimed her body.

"I think I was in a cave. I'm not certain, but it felt like one, what with the walls that surrounded me from every angle."

"Caved in," Leah interjected, and Claire couldn't help but agree.

"I thought I was dead." 

Not purgatory.

Claire flinched, knowing it to be true, but dreading it all the same. 

"He could read my thoughts, Leah." Claire closed her eyes to ward off the memory, but felt just as vulnerable in the dark.

You're home.

"He called me his child!" She was rocking back and forth now, her head cradled in her open palms.

She felt Leah's arms around her. And then it was the hushed whispers, Leah repeating the same thing over again in her ear:

"You're safe."

Claire opened her eyes and brought a hand up to her face. Her brows furrowed, confused, but then a second later understood that she'd been crying.

Leah sought confirmation in Claire, her eyes piercing and penetrating. "Do you want me to warm up your hot chocolate again?"

Claire shook her head, suddenly determined to finish—to tell her story—as though G could pluck her from this cottage any second now.

"You need to know I wasn't just sent back here by him. I don't think he knows I'm here."

Leah shook her head. "G?"

Claire nodded urgently. "I was heavily guarded by him in that cave. It was dark, damp, and I didn't move—I couldn't! I was chained the entire time, so why would he want to release me?"

Leah pondered silently for a moment. And then:

"You said he called you his child?"

Claire nodded, the mug resting on her folded leg. 

"I thought I dreamt it; all of it. But days must have passed, because the next time I came to, I was drained, exhausted. Lifeless. I don't remember sleeping but I also don't remember being coherent."

Leah's eyes darkened. "Well, did he say anything else?"

"It's not what he said to me." Claire started to chew on her fingernails. 

"I overheard him talking to someone. 'They aren't working', is what I remember him saying. 'They're all here but nothing is happening.'"

"They? Who?!" Leah sat up straighter on the bed, her neck craning for more information.

"I don't know!" And Claire was being honest.

Just then, a knock sounded at Leah's door. The two immediately exchanged similar looks.

"Dammit," Leah uttered under her breath.

"If that's Lewis—" Claire started, but was stopped by Leah's hand.

"The floor!" Leah half-whispered half-yelled, and pointed to the broken floorboard in the middle of the kitchen.

Claire looked at her friend as if she was crazy. "What?"

Leah hopped off the bed quietly, the tips of her feet preventing a loud, would-be thud if she had also used her soles. Traipsing across the floor, she stopped and bent over at the cracked board. It was then that she lifted it up, revealing a cramped but big enough hole in the earth to hide in.

And that's just what Claire did. In a matter of seconds, she skipped across the room and reluctantly stepped into the cold and dark hole of a hiding place. 

Memories of being trapped filled her thoughts, and it took everything to remind herself that she was safe. Even here, in the confines of the earthly jailcell beneath the cottage.

"Claire, I know you're here! Come on out!" A voice boomed from outside, and Claire's heartrate picked up at the sound of Lewis's sinister tone.

From above, Leah wore a face of determination, her forefinger rising up to her lips, and Claire knew it was time to be quiet.

"I'll be back," Leah whispered before putting the board back in place, showering Claire in darkness.

A shuffling of footsteps. A door opening. A muffled conversation.

And Claire continued to be silent.

Chapter 30: Mayoral Duties

Leah

 

 

"Goodmorning, Leah!" Mayor Lewis says chirpily as soon as I open the door. “Day 1 of the New Year is finally here!"

"Sure is." I send him a tight-lipped smile and grip the door, my knuckles whitening.

"Now," he says, crossing his arms, peering not-so-subtly into the cottage. "Let's not make this difficult—I know she's here. I saw her walk in with you last night." 

"Yes, but she's not here anymore." I stand defiantly in front of him, copying his pointed smirk and raised eyebrow; the gray thunderstorm that is brewing from Mayor Lewis doesn't compare to the warmth of the sun on my back. 

Mayor Lewis leans to the side, not at all hiding his nosiness. Popping his head inside, he scans the bedroom, the space surrounding the bookcase, and then lands on the kitchen, his brow crawling even higher up his face. I can read the half-confused, half-disappointed look on his face, and bite down hard on my lip, forcing myself not to smile.

I'm seconds away from closing the door on his embarrassed face when he barges inside, the door shoving me into the corner. I quickly glance at the broken floorboard where Claire is currently hiding underneath and hold my breath.

Mayor Lewis walks across the living room, and for a moment, I fear he's figured out my secret. But he passes her, and peers over the wall into the dining room. Finding nothing, he turns around and stands with his hands on his hips, surveying the empty house.

It's only when he walks back into the living room and stands directly on top of her that my amygdala works in overdrive; stimulating, electrifying, it dictates what I will do from this moment on. What will you do? My thoughts race inside my brain, jolting and feverish. What will you do if he figures it out?

"Tell her I'm looking for her if you see her again. There's a new threat in town." The mayor abruptly storms past me and exits the cabin, leaving the door still wide open. I run to it, but before closing it, I stick my head out and make sure he's yards away, and only then do I secure the barrier between my secret and the outside world.

"He's gone," I say, padding swiftly towards the broken floorboard, crouching down to remove it and seeing a nervous-looking Claire in the too-tight hole. I extend my arm and she takes it hastily. Hoisting her up and out of the claustrophobic crevice, I stare at her deer-in-the-headlights face. I squeeze her hands in mine. "Are you okay?" 

She nods and looks at the closed door. "I can't believe that just happened!"

"I know, but you're safe now, and I don't want to think about the what-ifs that keep popping up in my head where you're not." I brush the dust off her shoulders and breathe a sigh of relief.

"I wonder what he's up to?" She does her signature move—a crinkling nose and downturned mouth.

"Beats me. Can't be good, he gives me the creeps." I move towards the door and lean against it. "He did barge in here. Can't be good."

"Well, there's only one thing to do to figure him out." Claire moves to the bed and picks up her mug of what's gotta be cold hot chocolate and lifts it to her lips. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" I straighten myself, my hand on the knob.

"No," she shakes her head, setting her mug down. "You have bigger fish to tackle."

I squint at her and remove my hand from the knob. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she grabs her shoulder length hair and gathers it up at the apex, her wrist lacking a hairtie.

I cross the room and stop at the bookcase, taking a scrunchie and then handing it to her. 

"I want you to find the cave I was trapped in." She secures her ponytail and tightens it, grabbing hold of two sections and pulling.

"How would I do that? And how do you know it was a cave?"

Claire's gaze drops to the floor. "There's something else I remember."

I feel my eyes enlarging. "Really?"

She nods, and then looks back up to face me, a forlorn look dripping from her eyes. "I'd go in and out of consciousness. I couldn't tell if I was awake or dreaming half the time. But the last thing I saw before waking up at the end of the pier was a chest."

"Okay." I bite the inside of my cheek, begging my brain to predict what she'll say next but coming up empty.

"I had Vincent and Jas help me paint a chest years ago, and ever since then, it's been sitting empty in the cave on my farm. Robin only builds and sells standard wooden chests, but the chest I saw—“

"It was painted." The realization dawns on me, and Claire nods. A morose air fills the cabin. 

"Grey with green and purple blobs. To resemble my junimos." She walks past me, opens the door, and looks at me. "I don't know what to think, Leah, but if you could look inside my cave and check to see if it's still there while I talk to Lewis, maybe we'll come closer to figuring out what's going on. Come closer to finding G. And maybe," she turns to the outside world, taking a step forward. "Maybe we can try to get rid of him."

 

 

Claire

 

 

The walk to the community center was long and tedious, but somewhere deep down, Claire knew that's where Lewis would be. Standing in front of the center, she breathed deeply, hoping this moment would bring some clarity and wisdom to tackle what laid beyond the double doors.

Pulling the doors, she entered the center but stopped suddenly, a body blocking the rest of the center. 

Harvey turned around and smiled when he saw it was Claire that ran into him. "Good, he's been waiting for you."

"What in the world is going on?" Claire eyed Lewis who was facing the entrance, sitting at his desk and inspecting something closely in one of his hands.

"Someone is running for mayor. Lewis is furious." Claire's jaw dropped. That's not what I was expecting, she thought.

"Who?" She asked, and Harvey opened his mouth to speak.

Only, it was Lewis that started talking instead. "Glad you're back, Claire. But it's vital that you help me save this town."

"I see we're no longer interested in what happened to me, but alright, let's save the town from river trash and over-due business taxes." Claire threw her arms up in the air and grimaced at Lewis, who glared back at her. Lewis then stood up and threw the item from his hand her way. Almost missing it, she snatched it before it hit the ground.

She peered down at the small clay tablet and pursed her lips at the words scrawled onto it.

ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ

ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ

"It doesn't matter what happened to you, Claire, because you're back! There is an actual problem here--whoever thinks they can take my job can take it up with my fists!" 

"Okay, so someone threatened to take your job. It's not like that could happen—you are around-the-clock protected by Harvey, Clint, and Alex. Besides, the villagers have the final say. Do you really think they'd vote for someone who threatened you?" Claire tossed the tablet back at Lewis who grabbed it and stared at it menacingly. 

"N-no, I guess not. I didn't really think of that." He set the tablet down and rounded the desk, stopping just inches away from her. "See! You're helping already. Good. There's more you can do, though." 

Claire raised an inquisitive brow. "Like what?"

"I want you to be my eyes. Harvey, Clint, Alex—they're my protectors, so I need them to make sure nothing happens to me. But you?" He smiled something grotesque, his fingers twisting at his mustache. "If you could parole the area and watch out for anything odd, you could really start helping this town."

"What exactly am I looking for, Mayor?" Claire eyed Lewis cautiously.

An evil grin crawled up the side of his mouth. "Traitors."

Chapter 31: Brown Goop

Leah

 

 

A gray fog blankets the farm as I draw near, the haze and gloom a clear warning of what I'm walking into. Cardinals chirp nearby, which brings me mild comfort, but the murk that overlaps the falling snow serves as a reminder—what I've been instructed to look for is hopefully close by; Claire's chest, the one with Stinky and Smelly painted on it, needs me.

I'm closing in on the coop, and as I’m about to pass it, I hear Emily talking sweetly to the chickens, enthusiastic clucks and the occasional high-pitched croak coming from inside. As if sensing me nearby, Emily sticks her head out one of the windows, finding me instantly. I stop adjacent to the door and wave.

"Hey, Emily. How're the chickens?" I smile. 

"Not too bad! I think they miss Claire though—they're giving me quite the mouthful over here." She laughs, her eyes closing.

I nod my head and look past the coop, and about ten yards away is the pig pen. There, mud-and-snow-covered, Penny trudges around Claire's pigs, a bucket of what appears to be brown goop taking up space in the nook of her arm.

"Ouch, Penny got pig duty." I shake my head. 

"Yeah, we rock-paper-scissored for that." Emily cackles and wipes an imaginary bead of sweat off her forehead.

I tilt my head. “Are pigs supposed to be outside during the Winter?”

”Oh, uhm.” Emily scratches the top of her head. “I think they’re okay, actually. They sleep indoors and come out for food and exercise. At least, that’s what Claire told us.”

I find myself nodding again. "Well, it's nice of you two to help her out. She needs all the help she can get." 

"We're happy to, seriously. I've been getting bored at the Saloon, anyway." She descends the odd number of steps to the ground and peers over the coop at Penny. "And I'm sure that one enjoys a break away from the kiddos."

"Whatcha here for, anyway?" Emily looks back at me and leans against the side of the coop, her pointed eyebrows springing up in curiosity.

Just checking the cave to make sure a certain sinister omnispirit hasn't stolen Claire's belongings. "Claire asked me to check somethin' out, but I'll be in and out, don't worry." I thumb towards the opening in the wall, just left of the farmhouse.

Emily waves a hand. "I'm not worried one bit. But can you go check on Vincent for me while you're there? Last time I checked, he ran over there, somewhere."

I pause. "Vincent's by the cave?" 

Emily nods her head and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, he was chasing after something. A rat, or mouse I think. Anyway," she salutes me. "Have fun!" She turns and walks up the stairs, disappearing quickly into the chicken lair.

I nod, even though she's already out of sight. "Will do."

As soon as I walk away from the coop, my temples start to pulse. I'm sure Vincent is fine.

I get closer to the hole in the wall, the smell of musty earth growing stronger. He'll be fine, the chest will be there, and no portal leading to G's torture chamber will be waiting for me inside the cave—everything will be fine.

I find the entrance and, save for a single torch submerged in dirt, the cave is too dark for me to see anything. Biting the bullet, I bring my hands up, place them on the walls, and walk in. If I have to feel my way around, then so be it—that chest is mine!

"Claire?" 

I turn around and see a muddy and disheveled Penny standing several feet away. She‘s looking directly at me.

"Oh," she says quietly when she notices it’s just me. "Hi."

I wave and silently thank her for the temporary distraction. "Hey, Penny."

"Do you know where she is—Claire?" Penny rubs one of her arms and shivers.

"She's with Mayor Lewis, I think. Is everything alright? How are the pigs doing?"

She rolls her eyes playfully and then smiles. "Noisy and hungry."

“Also, turns out—“she lowers her head just slightly at me, a shy expression washing over her—“Pigs survive just fine in the Winter.”

An embarrassed smirk slowly makes its way up my mouth, and I nod.

"But hey," she continues, nodding back at me. "Thanks for telling me where Claire is."

She turns and begins to walk away. I'm about to turn around myself when she stops in her tracks and looks back at me over her shoulder.

"Your neck is red." She grins, a hint of something I can't quite place glimmering in her eyes, and I feel the lines in my forehead begin to crinkle.

"What?" I bring a hand up to my neck and squeeze gently. 

"Your neck is red every time Claire is mentioned. You should see what you look like when you're standing right next to her."

It takes forever to fully register her words. Neck. Red. Every time. Claire.

On cue, I feel the space between my collarbones and chin start to warm. And then it's my cheeks, my chest, and suddenly my entire body is on fire.

Penny's grin widens. "Perks of being the quiet, observant kind. You kind of see—and hear—“ she winks suggestively at me—“everything."

"Especially the things people don't see about themselves." And then she's walking away, past the pen where the pigs gorge themselves on brown goop, and past the coop where Emily is now walking out of and waving goodbye. She's walking away like she didn't just yell at me with a supersized megaphone. Like she didn't just paint fifty million red arrows on signs that point directly at me.

Chapter 32: Omnispirit

1048, Winter

 

 

The night air is stale.

Not a drop of rain has blessed the soil.

At least we have our fire. We never run out of that. 

I stare at the flame that’s fastly rising. We never run out.

”Is she close?” Brythar asks from across the flame, his feet drumming anxiously against the dirt.

I shake my head and watch as he frowns.

”I do not see her," I say. "Patience.” I close my eyes and breathe in the smoke from the flame.

”But someone is close.” He persists, his feet thumping harder, louder.

”You must be mistaken. I would have seen them.” I reassure him, not seeing anyone nearby.

Brythar stands up and walks away from the pit. “I will look, just to be safe.”

I shake my head, knowing he will come up empty.

He always does.

 

 

1049, Fall

 

 

"Zalmiszar," Sacerdos says sternly at the door, the temple bells tolling behind him. 

"I know of what you seek, priest. Vornirdis is keeping watch over the girl—you have naught to worry."

Sacerdos paces back and forth, the sound of singing men spilling out of the cracked chapel door. 

"My daughter must be kept safe and out of the people's sight, Zalmiszar. They should not even know of her return." 

"The men that took her," he continues. "Have they been dealt with?"

I squeeze the fist at my side. "Yes, priest. I've seen to their demise."

Sacerdos grins faintly and then nods approvingly. "Any new developments since Gareth's attack?"

I glare grimly. "None. Only that he is healing well and in safe hiding."

"Just like Dabria, my sweet angel." Sacerdos' eyes become misty with affection at the mention of his daughter's name.

"Resume your care over her," he orders, a sudden determination replacing the fondness that once covered his face. "And I'll do my best to prevent any more attacks."

The priest turns and opens the chapel doors. With his back turned to me, I squeeze my fist even tighter, restraining my own wrath.

"So long as Gareth watches his tongue," Sacerdos continues. "Then again, his fuse is always lit."

 

 

1049, Winter

 

 

"Dabria," I caress the pale cheek of the priest's daughter, the midnight moon casting a familiar shadow over our faces. Hers holy and bespeckled, mine taut and shameless. "It is not time. It will never be time. He shall not know." 

"I think he does." She stares anxiously at my pellucid chest, her fingers tickling the nape of my neck. 

"He does not," I reassure her, but she still stares at me, uncertain. 

A boom of thunder sounds off in the distance, and my face lightens, a smile twisting at my lips. "Rain."

"Or a storm." She looks at me grimly, but I do not reciprocate her worry—there is no reason to do so.

She pulls away from me, her absence cutting into me like the thunder beyond the mountains—the stab before the removal—my blood could pour out if I'm not careful.

"Perhaps you should go. Before anything sinister falls in your lap. All of you. Brythar, Vornirdis—Gareth."

Just then, my temple begins to pulsate. The priest. Twenty meters out. 

"He's drawing in," I tell her, my eyes focused on the forest ahead. "Get back to Kelnhaerst before he spots you. I'll find you in the morn."

Dabria nods quickly before she pulls my face down to hers, her ale flavored lips meeting mine. The forested scent of her hair and the slightest hint of campfire fills me with lust, but I push away and send her opposite of the forest. 

My temple reverberates once more. The priest. Fifteen meters out.

I turn around and reassure myself that tomorrow will come.

Dabria runs toward the town, but stops abruptly. She sees it. And so can I.

Kelnhaerst has been set ablaze.

 

 

1049, Winter

 

 

Nearly a week has passed since the falling of Kelnhaerst.

Sacerdos is dead.

Dabria is also dead.

He had sent Dabria to seduce me in the Fall, to gain my trust. To gain the knowledge of my kind, and hopefully my essence. Yet something transpired between us, Dabria and I: we formed a bond—one that Sacerdos didn't plan for and ultimately fell clueless to. Until his last dying breath, when I stood above his body, my fingers coated with his blood. He'd been using me to get to Gareth. On the night of the fire, he sent his favored guardsmen to capture Gareth, knowing I'd be away. Knowing I'd be occupied with Dabria, he caught up to us after the attack, however, having planned his next personal attack.  But when he ordered Dabria to flee, he didn't expect for her to run to my side. Enraged and betrayed, he casted at me my kind's power that night, having stolen it from Gareth. Only, with his novice experience, the shockwave that was meant for me hurled in Dabria's direction instead. Shocked to a crisp and nothing but ash, she left me. She was gone and taken from me. At the hands of her own father, the priest. I was quicker, faster, and I found my vengence in the thick of his throat, Dabria's name rippling off my tongue in repetition, in agony. Something in his blood-washed face changed—it took on a different kind of surprise seconds before he met his fate. Whether it was the pain in my voice, or the force of my fists as they hammered down on his chest, he knew—I was her only protector. I protected her when I located the demolished building the bandits had stashed her away in. I protected her when she screamed and vented to me about her father restricting her access to the village. I held her head, then, lulling her to sleep with whispers of plans for the future. But I could not protect her in the end—that will forever be my greatest lament. I was bent over Dabria's ashen corpse when Sacerdos's guardsmen came for me. 

Now having escaped a deep ice-ridden dent in the earth, having been casted away just like the rest of my friends surely have by the guardsmen, I watch bitterly beside my nook in the ice as the people of Kelnhaerst attempt to rebuild a new village.

I think back on what Dabria shared with me, right before she was taken from me. "Perhaps you should go." I grit my teeth and understand now. That was a warning. 

I think of them: Brythar, Vornirdis—Gareth. They mustn't be too far away.

Chapter 33: Another Flicker in the Deep

Bec stares expectingly at me, her eyebrows doing that weird thing they do anytime she wants something from me. Which is right now.

"Why do you gawk at people like that?" Her blue-almost-grey eyes grill me, and I feel my joints starting to lock up and my eyes beginning to close. "That's a new one—my mom taught me that one. Gawk. And that's what you're doing. Gawking. Like a little kid."

"I'm not little. And I'm not gawking at you, Bec," I tell her, which was the honest truth. 

The warmth of the day had just started to disappear, so I look across my shoulder through the forest trees and past the singing birds at the sun cutting into the mountains. It was going to get dark very soon, and Mother would kill me. Well, not actually kill me, I don't think. More like—

"Just-" The tall thirteen-year-old with a braid slung over her shoulder stares at me with an intensity I wasn't unfamiliar with, but still—she has an effect on me and I don't like it.

"Just what?" I look back at her, feeling my joints loosen and my eyes widening. Being ten wasn't easy when you had a Bec around, but something in this moment - where she seemed uncharacteristically out of place - I felt like a Bec. 

"Do you have it? My candy?" She's looking at me intensely again, but something in this moment - where I feel uncharacteristically out of place - I stand a little taller.

"No." And that was the honest truth. "I don't have it. I'm sorry."

I turn around and feel my feet taking me away. 

But her hand roughly whirls me around and stops me from making my way home. 

"Hey!" I grab at the sore spot, my joints wanting to lock up again. "I'm not lying, Bec. Maybe ask Corinne for another one."

"Oh, your crush?" Bec had me now, my joints locking up at the speed of lightning. 

"No," I croak, barely above a whisper. 

"You're gawking again. And you have a crush on Corinne. I'm going to tell her!"

"Bec! No!" I chase after her, but she's faster than me, taller than me. She was faster and taller than all of us. 

I'm running as fast as my legs can take me, my arms catching the prickly sharp ends of the branches, but I don't cry. I won't give Bec something else to notice about myself when she humiliates me in front of everyone. In front of Corinne. The girl with the soft face and even softer voice—she hasn't been here that long, maybe only a month. But when she and her aunt—whose name I don’t know yet—walked out of the forest—the same one I’m almost out of—I remember the uncertain look on her face. Maybe she knew it then, what I have known all along, about this field. That the field, which was home to many, was not a home to us. I grin as the branches scrape my skin, the tiniest tear making its way down my cheek.

As soon as I reach the edge of the tree line, I see Bec several yards away. And she's stopped right in front of the familiar teepee tent with a butterfly painted on the side.

I push my legs to move again, and they do, but I'm not fast. Not as fast as I was before, in the forest. Maybe it's because my legs know what's already happening and have decided it's no use going any faster.

But they still take me, across the uneven grassy terrain and over the randomly placed bridge made out of logs and rocks, all the way to the orange and pink butterfly.

"-and that's when she told me she likes you." Bec had a crumpled up Twix bar in the palm of her hand, and I think about taking it and stomping on it.

The day seemed to have known it was time, because as soon as the girl with the soft face and even softer voice turns from the opening of her teepee to look at me, the sun sinks behind the mountains. 

I couldn't speak, couldn't utter a 'she's wrong' or a 'it's true'. I just stood there, my feet glued to the uneven grassy terrain, unmoving and mute. My neck feels warm.

But Corinne doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t mock me the way I was completely expecting her to do. Doesn’t raise one of her eyebrows in disgust or shock. Not in the way Bec is doing right now. Beyond the teepee, I see Mother standing outside our log house, her face unreadable like always.

Corinne stares at me, a hint of a smile barely keeping itself hidden on the smooth of her mouth. And my neck grows warmer.

 

 

I wait for my cheeks to return to their original color before spinning back around and gazing into the dark cave. 

I rub the memory away and clutch at my chest. My neck is always red, I conclude, ridding myself of Penny's words and setting them free from my conscious.

Re-directing my focus, I step into the cave and carefully maneuver myself with my arms, allowing the walls to guide me to my goal.

I stop when I reach the torch in the ground, realizing I've come full circle. And no junimo-painted chest in sight.

I’m pulling out my phone and preparing to send Claire a disappointing text message when the sound of approaching footsteps stops me.

Cautiously, I peer outside from behind the wall and—

"Oh, Claire!" I almost trip over the torch and hop to the side to miss it. Claire stops before the entrance with an expectant look on her face, seemingly blind to the near fumble. 

"Well?" She glances inside the cave, her eyes fervently searching the empty den.

I lean against the wall and exhale my frustration. "Not here."

Claire doesn't react. She continues to stare into the cave, but I know she's upset. 

"Let's get out of here," she says, looking at me now. I nod and pass the torch in the ground, tempted to blow it out. 

We're walking past the coop when I remember what Claire had to do today.

"What did Lewis want?" I stuff my phone in the pocket of my jacket and breathe in the cold, Winter air.

Claire scoffs and kicks a hardened piece of snow out of her way. I watch as it cracks open in half. 

"Night watch is back on the table." She grabs a slim branch from a dead tree, letting it slide through her palm until there's not a branch to hold onto anymore.

"Are things disappearing again?"

"No. Worse. In the eyes of Lewis, anyway."

"Someone wants to take his spot as mayor," Claire continues. 

"Huh." My eyes drop to the snow-covered ground and wonder who would possibly want to do that.

"Bye Claire! We'll come back on Tuesday, okay?!" An enthusiastic Emily stands next to a tired looking Penny, the two of them milling by the south exit several yards away.

"No!" Claire yells from beside me. "You've done enough!" She shakes her head, like she can't believe how much help she's received. "As a thank-you, I'll make you guys dinner! How's the end of this week sound?!"

They nod excitedly before turning and disappearing down the paved pathway. Claire waves goodbye at them despite their backs to her.

"They've done so much work," I tell her, thinking about all the wine orders, pig feeding, and egg-grabbing they had done in the last several months. "You have good friends."

"You helped too." 

I turn to look at her. "I didn't."

"But you did." She stops right in front of the fish pond, a single Perch making circles below the waters' surface.

When she turns to face me, she's beaming. 

"You helped by trying to find me." I grow warm. "Your neck is red," Penny says. 

I don't know how to respond to her. So I just smile.  "That's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Claire raises a brow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." I scrape some snow off the ground, fresh soil peeping from underneath.

"No one"- except me -"really seemed bothered that you went missing. Even Shane. I don't know if they just assumed you'd be back or if they kept it to themselves, but-" I twist the hem of my shirt and bite my lip "-it felt like no one was worried."

Claire offers a sympathetic grin, but then nods to herself. 

I cross my arms. "That's not... you're not surprised?"

Claire laughs pitifully. "No, I am. Wasn't expecting that actually."

"Well," she shrugs her shoulders and starts walking toward the south exit. I follow behind. 

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For worrying."

She glances over her shoulder a little, a peak of a smile showing on the exposed half of her face. The corner of my mouth tugs upwards in response.

"Now," she says, looking forward again. "Now that we know my chest is gone, it's time we go see a friend."

"Who?" I skip across the snow and gain speed, finding her side again. I swear, if it's another omnispirit—

Claire turns to look at me and smiles, and somehow, I trust that it's not. 

"His name is Magnus Rasmodius."

 

•

 

The wooden door radiated magic. In fact, everything about the Wizard's Tower felt like it was born out of a separate dimension. The door's pointed end looks like an arrow, the sky its destination. The vines that hug the circumference of the tower illuminate brightly in the dark, reminding me of the forest near Z's. 

Claire brings her closed fist down on the door, rapping on it loudly three times. A muffled voice speaks from inside, but it's unintelligible; I can't hear what they're saying.

But Claire seems to have understood perfectly, her arm pressing up against the door and pushing it open. I follow her inside and am immediately greeted by the smell of fern.

The inside of the Tower is dim, but a fireplace in the far corner sheds enough light for me to notice a giant cauldron bubbling green on our left. In front of it stands a purple-haired, cloak-wearing man. He looks up from his cauldron and smiles warmly at Claire. And when he glazes over her and looks at me, he nods solemnly.

"You've brought a friend!" He exclaims, raising one of his arms in my direction, supposedly a greeting.

I wave and Claire nods. She then folds her arms tightly across her chest. "Yes, and we have a bit of an issue."

"Uh-huh," Magnus returns to his bubbling pot, the green in the cauldron reflecting in his mature eyes. 

"It's G." At the mention of his name, Magnus lifts his head quickly and stares grimly at Claire. 

And then he shakes his head slowly, looking toward the floor in deep thought.

"I was afraid of this." He's sauntering back and forth now, the smell of fern growing stronger.

"Who summoned him?" Magnus looks between Claire and I, but then rests his gaze on me. I sink into my shoulders but cannot lie.

"I did." I swallow my guilt but instead of backlash, Magnus simply nods his head, and then returns to his pacing.

"It was only a matter of time. Does she know about the theory?" The Wizard looks directly at me, a curiosity filling his face.

"Theory?" I turn to Claire, who stays silent.

"What do you think G is planning?" I push, moving closer to her.

"As I'm sure you know," Magnus starts, "the villagers' valued possessions have been going missing. Elliott's computer, Marnie's chickens-"

"My wine," Claire adds. "And even some of my harvest has disappeared, too." She unfolds her arms and shakes her head.

Magnus nods in a calculating way. "We think it's G's doing."

"I called Magnus as soon as I left the center. We need his help and I think we can get it." A glimmer of hope sparkles in Claire's eyes as she looks at me.

"So, okay, if he's doing this, then why?" Now I'm the one crossing my arms and looking questioningly at them.

Claire and Magnus share a look. And then Magnus clears his throat. "We think he's trying to get his power back. His full power."

"We know the humans stole from him centuries ago,” Claire adds. “So it would make sense for him to try and reclaim what was lost."

"By taking Elliott's computer?" I raise a brow. 

Claire grins and shakes her head. "By stealing from us. Taking our possessions. Think about it."

I stare at the bubbling cauldron and think about it. 

"He's not just taking our things. He's taking what we'd value the most! The things that make us, us. Our essence!" My eyes widen at the realization and Claire and Magnus excitedly agree with me.

"It's not just a computer—it's Elliott's computer, because he's a writer! And your wine, Claire-" she nods enthusiastically at me, her face piquing at my revelation. 

"Huh. This changes things, then." I start to pace now.

"How so?" Claire asks. Magnus stands quietly in the corner, observing us meticulously.

"Has anything been taken recently?" 

Both Claire and Magnus shake their head no. 

I frown. "When was the last time he took something?"

The two are quiet. Until:

"Marnie's chickens. He hasn't taken anything after that. At least, that I know of."

"Do you think he's been watching us? Maybe he was there when Mayor Lewis huddled us together and formed the neighborhood watch?" I bite my lip, hoping for the best but expecting cold, harsh reality.

"If that is true," Magnus speaks up, his hair suddenly turning the exact shade of the bubbling liquid in his cauldron. "Perhaps we can use this information for our advantage."

Chapter 34: Closed Fist, Open Heart

 

 

 

She knew what he was brewing in his cauldron. Of course, she knew. As soon as she stepped foot into the Tower and the scent hit her nose, she knew what it was. Now she just needed to know why he was making it. Maybe he could sense us coming.

With Leah on her right, Claire crossed her arms and surveyed the familiar area.

The fireplace she sat next to five years ago; Magnus had blanketed her and given her a chipped mug filled to the brim of sticky green brew after stumbling across his Tower for the first time. "I was exploring the Forest," she said to him, cradling her goosebump-riddled arms. "No one told me a wizard lived here." Magnus just smiled at her and lead her to the fireplace where he soon returned with the suspicious looking drink. "Thanks," she remembered saying, hesitant to drink the concoction, but ultimately caving in and taking a small sip. She had blinked in rapid surprise. "This is good," and Magnus Rasmodius, Pelican Town’s very own wizard, laughed—whether in delight or sinister success, she didn't know. Prepared to bolt, Claire had gripped the mug with both her hands and anticipated his next move. But when he'd nodded something wholesome and said that he knew it was, she calmed. And it would be mere seconds after taking that first sip that she'd start to feel really good as well.

The raised corner room vertical to the cauldron; the night Claire had rescued the junimos from the scary level in the Mines, she appeared at Magnus's door, cold and uncertain of her gallant decision. He welcomed her in with the promise of clarity by way of drinks (but not of the green goop variety) and cards. "You helped the protectors of the Forest," he had told her. "You did a good thing." She had nodded, then, taking in the wise words of her newfound friend. By the end of it, Claire had left the Tower with a full belly and an even fuller heart; she had left feeling confident in her choice.

The Tower only signified good things to Claire—it was as safe as her farmhouse. 

But she furrowed her brows and questioned, now, just how safe her farmhouse really was. Knowing what she does now, with Gareth on the possible strategic warpath and someone wanting to claim Lewis's spot as theirs—she felt her security in the Town as a whole starting to diminish.

"Perhaps we can use this information for our advantage," Magnus said, taking her out of her thoughts, the Prismatic gleam in his hair captivating in the dimly lit room.

Scuffing the heel of her boot against the floor, Claire pondered what the future would look like if they successfully bested Gareth. 

But when she turned to her right and saw her—the honey hair and angel kisses—Claire pondered something else. 

 

 

Leah

 

 

Claire is looking at me funny. Rasmodius has just suggested a brilliant plan to winning G at his own game, and Claire is looking at me funny.

I make it known that I know by turning to face her, directly. She falters, like she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. And then she nods, like she'd been listening to Rasmodius the entire time. Liar.

'What?' I mouth at her, zigzagging back and forth from Claire and Rasmodius, worried that the Wizard might think we're not paying him any attention. 

". . . and the next time I feel his presence in the Valley, you can count on me to . . ."

'Nothing', Claire mouths back before returning to the Wizard. Weirdo.

"How does that sound?" Rasmodius clasps his hands together looking proud. A wide smile adorns his face.

"Sounds good to me," I say at the same time Claire goes "I don't know."

My head spins to look at her, and she turns to gawk at me. 

"It appears we have not found common ground." The Wizard hums discontentedly to himself.

"It's just," Claire starts, taking a confident step forward. "My problem is that he could be right outside your door, and we wouldn't know it until we opened it. And then what? We just-" she throws her arms in the air "-accept defeat? Raise our white flag? I hate feeling unprepared for a battle I know I can't win." She brings her arms down and cradles herself, instantly appearing like a lost lamb.

Rasmodius is silent for several beats before poofing out of existence. Before I can verbalize my confusion, he materializes again, only this time popping up closer in front of us, like he'd just taken two steps forward. 

But something's different.

In his hand is a rusted goblet.

"Take this," he hands it to Claire, wearing a knowing grin. When Claire takes it into her hands, it glows orange like the sunset from earlier. 

Rasmodius hovers his hand over it and a bolt of electricity shoots out the palm of his hand and hits the chalice. 

"Good. Now, whenever you drink from this, I will know. And I will locate you. We may not have a solid plan, but this will guarantee safety."

"And what will you do, Mag?" Claire raises her voice. I squint curiously at her. What is she doing?

"When you show up and G has me by the throat!? How will I-"

"Thank you, Rasmodius." I interject, stepping in between them and removing the goblet from her hands. I'm suddenly angry. Why is she being so ungrateful?

"We'll use it if we need to. Here's to hoping we don't." I wave at Rasmodius and grab her arm, pulling her away from the Wizard and exiting the Tower.

Once we're back outside, Claire rips away from me, her eyes sending me daggers and nearly popping out of their sockets. "What the hell was that?!"

"That was gratitude. Of which you showed none, by the way." I tuck the goblet into my jacket's pocket and start heading for my cottage.

"I'm half tempted to walk back in there again and have Rasmodius repeat his ideas because just what the hell was that, Claire?" The crunchy snow beneath my feet give nothing in the way of comfort, despite my fond memories of below zero weather back at the field. 

"I don't want to talk about it," I hear her say from behind me. 

"Well," I stop a few yards away from the edge of the water. "Okay, but I have to say, I've never seen you so-"

I coudn't find the word. Brazen? Angry? Scared?

She did go through something traumatic.

"So what?" Claire stops behind me, and I can almost feel the wrath radiating off of her.

I shake my head and continue walking away. I'm not babysitting today.

 

 

Claire

 

 

She watched in angered disbelief as Leah walked off without saying anything. What the hell, she thought to herself.

"Asshole," Claire muttered under her breath before running full speed at the woman with the golden braid. 

She was about to grab Leah by the arm—just like Leah had done to her just moments ago in the Tower—when she went falling.

There was no salvaging or coming back from this. The sleet had already won. Claire was about to meet her maker—and she was taking Leah down with her.

"Claire?" Leah turned around at the most opportune time. Her eyes widened, taking in the sight of Claire wobbling on the slippery ice and coming straight for her!

Claire collided into Leah, sending the both of them down to the freezing ground.

"Give me back my goblet!" Claire went right for the pocket that housed her goblet, but a squirming Leah made things difficult.

"No!" Leah writhed beneath Claire, trying to close off her pocket with her hands but ultimately failing. The rim of the goblet poked out of the pocket, and before Leah could push it back in, Claire lunged for it—

Only for Leah to smack it out of Claire's hand.

The goblet flew in slow-motion, twirling mid-air, until it landed in the center of the lake.

The women stared at each other. Claire spoke first.

"Asshole."

"Baby."

Claire stared wide-eyed.

"You don't get to look shocked," Leah told her, standing up and dusting snow off of herself.

"Sorry for calling you a baby, though," she grinned coyly, her cheeks rosy red, and her hand stretching out to Claire. 

Claire took it and found herself planted on solid ground again. "Thanks. Sorry for calling you an asshole. Sort of."

Leah shook her head but otherwise kept quiet.

"So," Leah said, turning to face the lake. "Who's going after the goblet?"

"I'll get it, it's fine." Claire crossed her arms and exhaled, the air exiting her mouth spiraling upwards toward the sky.

"No, it's too cold-"

In the middle of their back-and-forth, the sound of approaching footsteps went unnoticed.

 

 

Shane

 

 

Jumping off the cliff, I nearly land on all fours, my calf seizing and then cramping mid-fall. 

I grab my leg and wince once I hit the ground, hoping I didn't sprain anything. "Fucking shit!"

"Sorry for calling you a baby," a voice says in the near distance, pulling me out of my focus.

I walk on it and decide it's fine. I look at the Tower briefly before passing it. Just up ahead, standing at the edge of the lake, is Claire and Leah.

"I'll get it, it's fine," Claire says, her cheeks burning a crimson shade of red. 

"No, it's too cold. Besides, I'll get it—I stole it. And slapped it out of your hand." Leah's neck is just as red.

I stand behind them, watching, grinning—waiting.

"I'll go," Claire says, shedding her jacket and beanie.

My head shakes in disagreement. That'd be a stupid fuckin' move.

"I'll go," I say loudly, watching the girls jump—getting the very reaction I wanted out of them.

"I think my heart hurts," Claire clutches at her chest. She doesn't look happy to see me.

"Way to make your presence known, Shane." Leah shakes her head and returns to looking out at the water.

"Besides," she continues, "I'm going."

"Absolutely n-"

But I don't finish my sentence. I can't. Because who's already half-way in the fuckin' air and headed for the water?

"Leah!" Claire and I scream after her.

"Damn stupid." And I leap into the water, the coldest, iciest water I’ve ever been in. It surrounds and jabs at me like sharp knives.  

I'm fast, but Leah's faster, gaining both speed and distance. In the frigid lake, I can hear Claire screaming out for the both of us. 

Up ahead, I think I see Leah's body thrashing about, her limbs circling, pushing the water away from her. 

I'm getting closer to her now, but my own limbs are starting to tire. Fuck, it's cold!

I think I'm on top of her! But--

Where is she?

 

 

Leah

 

 

The goblet is mine! My fingers, albeit stiff, wrap around the base of the cup. Mission complete! Now you just need to get out of this icy hell.

Using my legs, I swim upwards until I can see the surface—sweet, sweet oxygen waits for me there, I know it!

I break through the surface and immediately gasp for air, the falling snow landing on my tongue.

"I've got you! Swim, Leah, swim!" Claire has her arms out, and she's yelling from the edge, her eyes wide and fear-ridden.

I'm starting to lose feeling in my hands, but I push regardless of the pain. Right arm over first, left arm over second, and both legs kicking the water away.

My hands come into contact with something, and my brain decides I've hit a massive shark, ready to eat me, but I know that can't be true—I'm in a lake, sharks aren't here.

But it's not the jaws of a 20-foot shark pushing me up to solid ground—Claire has my wrists, and she's pulling me up!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid—“ Claire is repeating, but she pulls me up and out of the water until every inch of me is safe. 

"What's going on?" I hear Rasmodius yelling from behind, his voice distant and distorted. I close my eyes. 

"I don't feel good." The world continues to spin, long after I shut my eyes.

And then it's lights-out Leah.

Chapter 35: Icy and Rigid

 

 

 

"Be gentle!" Claire bent over and cradled Leah's back, and Shane grunted in annoyance. He said he had her, but the sun had just finished setting and he had trouble deciphering the ground from the water. The sun had set and the sky turned a blurred indigo, the distant clouds falling in anticipation of the obsidian night.

"I said I have it!" Shane grunted again and kept walking, not expecting Claire to rip Leah from his arms, but she did. In one quick motion, Claire stole Leah from him and threw her over her shoulder. 

"No whining! Get the Wizard, Shane." Claire stuttered, inching closer to the Tower. But when she didn't hear any movement from behind her, Claire flipped around to face him.

"Now! Run!" It was then that Shane felt the feet attached to his legs and started moving, racing past her and almost tripping over her own feet.

When Claire reached the stairs leading up to the Tower, she stopped and, with bated breath, watched as the door flew open. Magnus zipped down the walkway and appeared in front of Claire, nearly hovering over ground.

"She's blue," Claire stressed, passing Leah to the Wizard. With care and caution, Magnus wordlessly turned and re-entered the Tower, Shane and Claire close on his heel.

"Should I get a towel?" Once Magnus set the pale woman down on the floor near the cauldron, Shane towered over Leah's cold body and looked expectingly up at the Wizard.

But the Wizard remained silent, his wrists rolling and his eyes glazing over the unconscious woman. 

"No towel." Magnus closed his eyes and Claire and Shane stood back, observing the light that emanated from the palms of the Wizard's hands, a muddy light resembling tonight's sunset exiting from him and covering Leah from head to toe.

The light continued to absorb her until it took rest in the center of her body, brimming brightly at her stomach. Claire grabbed at Shane's arm in suspense, and Shane looked down at his friend and smiled hopefully.

"It's not working. Quick—one of you grab the potion there on my table!" He pointed and Shane freed himself from Claire's grasp, zipping across the floor and traversing the table with his eyes until finding an oblong crystallized container. After handing it to Magnus, Shane stepped back into Claire's expectant hands. Enclosing her with his own, he nodded, watching intently as the Wizard poured the clear liquid down Leah's throat.

There was a moment where Claire feared the worst. In seconds, she lost the air in her lungs.

But the sound of Leah coughing flooded her with nothing but oxygenated relief, her throat expanding at the gust of joy filling her lungs.

Dropping to her knees, Claire breathed a sigh of relief and held Leah's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Asshole."

"Dear Yoba," Shane blurted. "Everyone needs to stop disappearing and throwing themselves into below freezing waters."

Leah coughed once more before opening her eyes, seemingly confused with where she was, but smirked when she saw Claire hovering over her.

"Looks like I'm not dead yet." And Claire shook her head at that.

"No," she said. "You're not, and maybe we can keep it that way, yeah?"

Leah nodded and sat up and coughed again. 

"The goblet!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror.

"I have it," Shane said, lifting it in the air. Leah calmed and nodded at the reassurance.

"Now," she said, rising up until her feet were planted on solid ground, Magnus and Claire centering her on either side. "Can we please get out of here?"

 

•

 

"Let me know if you need me, okay?" Shane waited until Claire nodded her head and then smiled when she did, turning around and walking away a second later. 

She closed the door and turned around to face Leah, knowing she'd be there, her single braid resting on her shoulder, each individual strand of hair icy and rigid.

"That was fucking dumb." Claire unleashed, and Leah stepped back at the unexpected gesture.

Folding her arms, the braided woman cocked her head in one direction, her eyes searching Claire's face.

"I'm aware. Does it not matter to you that I retrieved the goblet?" She pointed at the chalice in Claire's hand.

"It matters, but not at the extent of your life!" Claire took several steps forward, her nose mere inches away from Leah's.

"I was so," she paused to scour every inch of Leah's face. "So angry."

"I can live with that." Leah nodded and clenched her fists at first. They were stiff—the air in the cabin tense and suffocating—but she released them, her fingers relaxing past her hips.

"But I can't live with you lying to me, Claire." 

"Lying?"

"Yes." Leah took a step back from the tension that started to brew between them and examined her nail beds. "I can accept when you're angry—you're usually justified when you are. But you weren't angry today."

"My emotions aren't up for debate!" Claire rained down hard on her, her arms flying out briefly and only momentarily before returning to her chest, her fingers digging into the skin that protected her heart.

"Then quit acting like they are! You weren't angry—“

"I was—“

"No!" Leah was close again, her hands rising to meet Claire's face, cupping it gently.

"You were terrified."

Claire stared into the woman's eyes, unmoving—not even an inch. 

And then she began to nod. 

Leah continued:

"I'm okay. Cliches aside, you saved me. You don't have to be terrified anymore. Right?"

Claire nodded some more, and then found herself ogling the cabin floor.

It was only when she looked up again and faced Leah, locking onto her violet eyes, that Claire kissed her.

It wasn't the kind of kiss she'd expected to have today. It wasn't expected at all. This isn't happening, she thought.

But it was, and she committed to it. Every second that passed was another moment on Leah's lips, her mouth soft as velvet and-

Claire pulled back.

"I'm sorry." She dropped her face again to the floor, this time staying there. 

"That was—I don't know why I did that. You should rest."

Claire quickly turned around and headed for the door.

 

 

Leah

 

 

"I'm alive," I blurt out, waiting for Claire to stop in front of my door. She does, her curly hair whipping around at the turn of her neck, her brown eyes scouring mine carefully, and I know this is my only chance before she walks away.

"I'm alive, because you saved me. I don't need sleep," my feet find purpose and suddenly I'm in front of her. "I don't need sleep at all."

The girl with the brown curls, aquiline nose and freckly face. The girl with the stone-cold exterior—I knew it was all a facade, it had to be. The parts of her that actually make sense revealed themselves to me just now.

"The terror you felt." I look into Claire's eyes, desperate for her to look back into mine. "Doesn't have to be a thing anymore."

"So," I continue, my voice quivering at what I'm about to say. 

"Can you kiss me again? Kiss me like you're not afraid anymore? I'm not."

Claire doesn't meet my eyes. She stands solidly straight.

And then she turns and grabs hold of the door knob, twisting it and slamming it shut behind her.

Chapter 36: Crumpled Twix Bar

Leah

 

 

I'm sitting in bed, the lights are off, and I can't stop thinking about her. 

The snow is falling outside—I know this because I can hear it—and I can't stop thinking of her.

I'm picking at the skin around my thumb, her face flashes in my mind, and—

My neck is warm.

I dig a crater in my bed and suffocate under the sheets.

Penny was right.

Chapter 37: Across the Pond

 

 

 

Mayor Lewis sat with his face tilted high, the sun shining down on him and adding a layer of warmth his fleece jacket could never provide. Underneath the garments, however, a crack down a block of ice that was his heart began to branch out and crystallize into other parts of his body.

”Harvey.” He ordered, his eyes closed and his open palm stretched out in front of Pelican Town’s trusted doctor. 

The bags under the doctor’s eyes were grotesque but his loyalty was anything but; the bottle of water he kept close to his ribcage was now being requested, and Harvey wasn’t about to let the Town’s Mayor go thirsty.

Lewis wordlessly took the water bottle from Harvey, unscrewed the cap, and gulped greedily. Drops of water spilled out the sides of his mouth and fled the scene, falling onto his shirt and evaporating quickly from the sun.

It was a rather warm February afternoon, and the Mayor was taking advantage of the sun rays before the cold weather would inevitably return. 

“Is that the last of it?” Lewis eyed the now empty basket that, mere seconds ago, contained fruits and pastries. 

“Yes." Harvey nodded, leaning back in his lawn chair and shielding the sun with his arm. “You ate everything.”

A deep and guttural laugh bellowed from the Mayor, and as he laughed, he stood up, the chair he was just occupying flying back and landing on the floor with a gentle thud.

“Well.” He clapped his hands together and turned around, facing the community center. “Whoever left that basket at the door is a gem. They knew I needed a treat during this tumultuous time!”

Harvey rolled his eyes and nodded, following Lewis back into the center.

Inside, the Mayor’s desk was littered with papers, note cards and coffee stains. The election was in two weeks, but instead of spending the limited amount of time on planning rallies or printing out pamphlets, Lewis and Harvey were dedicated to unraveling the identity of the person running against Lewis.

It was last Tuesday when Harvey came knocking on Lewis’s door with a piece of paper in hand. “It’s starting,” was all he said, handing the paper over to Lewis. With a grimace, the Mayor trashed the blue and yellow flyer that hinted at a dystopian jail cell of the town they lived in. “An uneven scale in need of balancing,” it read. 

They felt they were close to figuring this traitor out. Initially Lewis was hellbent on Kent, Jodi's husband, being the culprit. "He's never agreed with me," Lewis would say after a tiresome Town meeting. "Don't pay him any mind," Harvey would respond, sufficing the Mayor's thoughts albeit temporarily.

It just didn't make sense to Harvey, Kent wanting Lewis's spot. The veteran was loud and proud about his retirement; he'd state countless times his lack of desire for acquiring local governmental power.  

"Has Claire come up with anything new? She's been brilliant lately, what with her campaign work and all." Lewis chuckled quietly as he made his way to his seat behind the desk. 

"If she has," Harvey said, taking one of the seats in front of Lewis and sitting down. "She hasn't said anything."

"She should be on her way right now. Ask her about Kent while I'm gone." Lewis gathered several papers from the pile and secured them into a coffee-stained binder and shot up from his seat.

"Again? And where exactly are you going?" Harvey twisted in his seat, his eyes following the Mayor. 

"To the Blacksmith."

"Clint's?"

"I'm checking up on him. I have to make sure he's fit enough to vote."

"Right, that fall he took last week really did some damage." 

In front of the open door, the Mayor stood quietly, staring out into the Town.

"Oh good!" He exclaimed, raising a waving arm. "Claire's here."

Turning around, he pointed a finger in Harvey’s direction. "Don't forget—"

"Kent. I know."

The Mayor smiled approvingly at the doctor before quickly exiting the center.

 

 

•

 

 

Claire traipsed across the hardwood flooring and swung her backpack full of brochures and posters off her shoulder, dropping it on top of Lewis's desk.

Harvey eyed her from his chair, and though she noticed him ogling her, she ignored him. 

It wasn't until she went and sat in The Chair that she decided to address it.

"Yes?" She grinned coyly, her eyes glued to the newly made poster on the desk.

"Have you talked to her at all?"

"Ugh!" She groaned, flying back. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

"So you didn't notice her staring at you Tuesday morning, then."

Claire was quiet. She couldn't respond to that; she knew he was right.

"And it wasn't just her that was looking."

Claire knew exactly who he was referring to, but she resisted the doctor's silent request for gossip.

"The election is almost here. Don't think Lewis would approve of us talking nonsense."

Harvey rolled his eyes and took a sharpie from the organizer in front of him and leaned over the poster that Claire set down for him. 

"It's not nonsense." Harvey whispered, writing big letters on the white paper. "I know it's not."

"I would know," he dropped the sharpie and looked up at her. "You talk about it in therapy."

"Hey!" Claire brought her fists down on the desk, shaking everything that was on it. "That's confidential!"

"Yes, it is!" Harvey grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Which is why I don't share what you say in therapy to anyone."

"Yeah, well, we're not in your clinic at the moment, are we?" The disgruntled woman shook her head but continued to work, pouring over the posters and stamping them with Lewis's face.

Silence persisted in the center until every single poster was stamped and sharpied on. Surveying the last one, Claire nodded and added it to the finished pile of posters. 

"Time to put these on every building." Claire stood up and handed half of them to Harvey, who smirked playfully at her, the previous topic of conversation still lingering in his head.

"You get the East side, I get the West." Claire nodded at the doctor, preparing for the possible run-in she may have with Emily and Clint. Those two were having a personal recital at the Blacksmith; apparently Emily had been practicing ballroom-dancing with Clint, and today was the "big" show.

They were half-way out the door when Harvey piped up again.

"If you happen to see Lewis, and he asks about Kent, tell him you already spoke to me about it."

"Okay." Claire walked away with her backpack slung over her shoulder and Harvey headed toward Pierre's.

The sun continued to shine.

 

 

•

 

 

When Claire knocked on the door to Clint's, the chatter she heard from inside the Blacksmith stopped abruptly. 

Seconds later, the door opened and Clint stood there wearing black trousers and a white colored long sleeved shirt with collar and cuffs. 

"I told Emily we didn't have to do this." Clint grumbled, wearing a permanent scowl on his face.

"But I said we absolutely do!" Emily jumped into view from behind him, her face shining with highlighter and peach colored blush.

"Look at him, I dressed him all by myself." Emily cooed, her hands curling up underneath her chin.

"You look great, but," Claire started. "I'm afraid I'm only here to hand out posters."

Wearing a sad grin, she passed two twelve by eighteen posters out to Emily and Clint, who took them willingly.

"Hey, thanks!" The sapphire-haired girl ran off with her poster, presumably placing it on a nearby surface.

"Do you know anything about the anonymous candidate yet?" Clint leaned against the door frame, his mouth drooping downwards.

Claire shook her head. "Nope. No name, picture of their face, nothing. He's real adamant on being Mayor, though."

"Has anything like this happened before?" Clint crossed his arms.

"In Pelican Town? I don't think so. Lewis has been Mayor for two decades I think, but to be honest, there was never much of a competition to begin with."

"Until now." Clint squinted his eyes, and Claire nodded solemnly.

"People are coming!" Emily jumped up and down, and Claire turned around to see Evelyn, Pam and Penny walking across the south bridge. 

"My cue to leave." Claire went in for a quick hug, and then walked away toward the group of women.

"Hey, Claire, is that for the election?" Pam pointed to the posters in her arms. 

Claire nodded enthusiastically. "You bet. Want one?"

"Nah," Pam waved an arm. "I'll get one later."

Claire hugged Evelyn and was ready to give Penny a wave of acknowledgement but was interrupted by the woman herself.

"Oh, hey, wait!" Penny said, stopping in front of Claire and making her flinch.

"This needs to go back to Leah." Claire looked down at Penny's open hand, at the wooden chisel Claire recognized as Leah's. 

"You're unable to drop it off?" Claire shifted the backpack strap on her shoulder, her muscles tensing. Penny smirked subtly and shook her head 'no'. 

"Alright, well, I guess I can stop by. Tell Clint and Emily I say good luck!" Claire removed the chisel from Penny's hand, stuffed it into her pocket, and waved goodbye.

 

 

•

 

 

Claire had just finished handing out all her posters for the day, the path to her farmhouse right in front of her. The path that curved to the left—to Leah's cabin—also posed as a possibility.

The decision wouldn't have to fall on her to make, however, because the small voice of the woman that set her brain on fire caught her attention.

Standing on Marnie's doorstep, Leah twirled her braid with her forefinger and thumb, her eyes curious and beckoning. "Hi Claire."

"Oh." Claire shifted her strap again, her shoulder sore and likely bruised. "Hey, Leah."

Leah watched her silently, a faint smile appearing on her mouth. 

"Oh," Claire repeated, finally awakening to the moment. Pulling the chisel out from the pocket, Claire took a step forward, presenting the item in her hand. 

"This was—I mean, Penny wanted me to drop this off." Claire tried to piece together the sudden awkwardness she felt. There was no reason for it. 

"My chisel, thanks!" Leah drew closer, finding the spot between Claire and the fence and standing in it, removing the chisel in one slow swipe.

The two stood there, Leah's fingers still grazing Claire's open palm, and Claire trying her best to focus on her breathing. And failing.

"What is it?" Leah asked, her eyes searching Claire's, her hand finally pulling away. 

Claire shook her head and started walking down the path to her farmhouse. Leah yelled out from behind, but she kept on walking.

When she made it to the tree line, Claire was forced to stop because Leah had caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry, Leah, I'm just not in the mood for small talk right now. I need to go feed Stinky and Smelly."

"You can't." Leah half-grinned and rubbed her arm. A breeze was passing through.

Claire scratched the skin around her ear. "I'm not letting them starve, Leah."

"No, I mean, I‘ve already fed them." 

Claire faltered, digesting every word that came out of Leah's mouth just now. "You.. fed them?"

The woman nodded and looked off toward Claire's farm, which was half a mile away. 

"Your door was unlocked when I went to come say hi."

"When was that?"

"About an hour ago." Leah smiled. "So. This means you can talk." The smile turned into a teasing smirk, like she’d had this all planned from the start.

As much as Claire wished she could disappear, she knew Leah was right. As much as I don’t want to think about that kiss, she’s right.

"I guess this means I can talk, yes. What's up?"

Leah grinned mischievously and took a hold of Claire's arm again, an even more mischievous glint shining in her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

And then they were running; taking off in the opposite direction of Claire's farm, Leah dragged Claire across the melting snow and onto the pier they sat at only months ago. 

Instead of the all-out sight of pastries, cheeses and bread, the only thing waiting at the edge for them was the familiar bottle-cap quilted blanket and a single lantern.

Claire gawked at the sight: The sun had dipped below the mountains in the faraway distance, and the snow that slowly melted around them looked like it was crying. Like it was crying for them—just for them. 

With her mouth slightly open, Claire turned her head slowly to the woman next to her. 

For several aching moments, it was quiet. The edges of the lake were still frozen over, but at the center, where Leah and Shane had dove in just days prior, the twinkling of the lake water was clear and bright under the moonlight.

“It was planned." Leah said, her hand, suddenly clammy, still grasping Claire's arm.

Claire started to nod. She knew this. Of course, she did. So she said it. “Yeah.”

"No, I mean,” Leah let out an exasperated sigh and let go of Claire’s arm. “The last time we were here, I mean. You were carrying that flashlight, patrolling the town."

Walking towards the edge of the dock, Leah stared out at the still water, her hand dropping to her side. Claire lingered only an inch behind.

"When I said I didn't know you were working that night, I was lying."

"Why?" Claire looked over at Leah and spoke, her voice scratchy and unprepared.

Leah smiled wide, her eyes still fixated on the water. "And I had spent so much time on that stupid charcuterie board." She chuckled softly. "I just wanted to make it look nice. For you."

It was then that Leah turned and faced Claire. The pinky hues of the sunset painted the right half of her face, and Claire's mouth went dry.

"But I thought,” Leah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Why do all that?"

"Why go through all that trouble, trying to test the waters, when I can just ask you."

"Ask me what?" Claire felt her fingers go numb, and she wondered for only half a moment if it was due to the snow.

"But what if that didn't work?" Leah continued, the once peaceful look on her face now fading and being replaced with one of anxiety. "What if you don't remember? What if I dreamt the entire thing and—"

"Tell me!" Claire's entire body was facing Leah now, every inch of her screaming out in confusion.

Leah paused. To think, to breathe—Claire didn't know, but Leah had paused, and she waited.

And waited, and waited, and—

"We know each other."

Claire blinked.

"Before Pelican Town, before all of this, we knew each other. In the tiny patch in the middle of nowhere, I saw you for the first time."

Claire didn't know what to say, so she stayed quiet.

"You were with your family, camping. Across the pond, I watched you watch the flowing water. Behind you, your parents were sitting in their chairs. And there was a charcuterie board full of fruits and cheeses. And there was wine."

"And from across the pond, I waved, and you spotted me. You waved back and smiled."

"Leah—"

"And I wish it ended there, because if it did, then maybe we wouldn't be here, together. But it didn't end there, and we met in the middle, right where the mud kissed the stream, and you invited me to your campsite. Your family, they were so nice to me, some dirt-caked kid. They offered me a sip of the wine, and even though I was too young to appreciate fermented grape juice at the time, a moment away from the commune was enough."

"We got lost in the woods, do you remember? Do you recall feeling lost? The thing is," she paused to gulp, a very noticeable lump forming in the middle of her throat. "I knew exactly where we were. I knew where we were, but didn't say anything, because I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could."

A single tear fell from Claire's eye, her hand clutching at the collar of her shirt, the breath in her lungs evaporating.

"And if I just took you home, maybe we wouldn't be here. Together."

"Oh." Claire was sobbing now. The kind of sob that was silent; the kind of sob that completely prevented her from talking and stripped her from her breathing.

"But your family went looking for you."

Claire fell to her knees.

"While we chased after rabbits and croaking frogs, your family had to have been so worried." A tear made its way down Leah's cheek, but her composure remained the same.

"And if I just took you home," Leah closed her eyes, the rest of her tears falling down her face.

"Maybe your dad would still be here, too."

There was a brief moment of quiet where everything around them seemed to blend, merge together like paint on a canvas. No tree was the same shade of charcoal brown, and the ice still frozen to the surface surrounding their fragile bodies tempted to swallow them whole. But like everything in Claire's life, it didn't last.

"No!" The scream that erupted from Claire pierced through the calm of the evening, blowing the birds away and creating waves in the water that was still just seconds ago.

"I'm so sorry, Claire." Leah croaked and crouched down, her hand hovering over Claire's shoulder. Despite her need for her grief to also be comforted, the urge to touch Claire was ultimately fought. 

The pier, lake, and sky grew silent again.

The sun was long gone.

Chapter 38: Foot in the Grave

 

 

 

There was always something about the water that perplexed him. Something that only he could see. Something that felt like peace—the closest thing to peace anyway. But in actuality, it was the promise that Dabria made to him, long, long ago. "Perhaps you should go."  He remembers the way her eyes glistened under the waning moonlight. How she was confident in her stubborn, self-claimed immortality. But that wasn't the promise she made to him. Although the last few moments of when she still had breath in her lungs was the first memory to surface any time he thought of her, which was often.

No. The promise that Dabria, the priest's daughter, made to him was long before her death. It was before the preordained—destined—love that would ultimately grow like molasses; messy and sticky but sweet. 

"You're my father's protector," she had stated matter-of-factly to him on that stormy night in the chapel hallway. He had simply nodded, not knowing what to say in response. So he said nothing at all.

"You don't say anything," she remarked, so simply. He'd nodded and shrugged, still unsure of the direction of the conversation and what he might need to say to her. So all he said was a soft-spoken "yes". And then immediately after: "My job is to protect the priest."

The priest's daughter had smiled something mischievous. "Then, by default, you are also my protector." He'd nodded again: "I plan to." His cheeks had turned an odd shade of ice blue. He wasn't known to be a flustered human, much less a flustered spirit or wizard, but in that moment, his panic for specificity was written all over his face and quite telling of his undeniable human nature. "To protect, I mean." The priest's daughter smiled—something wholesome that time. "And I shall protect you." Her eyes full of commitment, her words a sacred and silent oath.

Now, Zalmiszar paces the floor in his lair, his teacup following him and sloshing at every turn. He hums a soft tune, breathing in the birch trees that have started to bloom and carry in through an open window. He stops, his teacup hovering over the nape of his neck. Drops of lukewarm tea spill out and land on his coat, but he ignored the sensation. Watching from afar, Zalmiszar noted that the lake had begun to melt, this changing season thawing away the ugliest of winter that Ferngill Republic had ever experienced. Standing still, he senses someone—no, three someones—nearby. In his mind's eye, he could see two of them at the pier: Claire and the newcomer.

"So you found her after all." He says to himself, watching them huddle up close to one another.

"Now," Zalmiszar begins to hum again, combing through the lake's perimeter as though he was peering at it through binoculars. "Who else lingers?"

He glazed over the magical Tower that housed a peculiar Magnus Rasmodius, but it wasn't Pelican Town's wizard that Zalmiszar sensed. 

"No." Zalmiszar whispered, his eyes widening in shock.

Standing on the other side of the lake, staring at Claire and Leah, was Gareth.

A grim frown found its place on the corner of Zalmiszar's mouth.

"And looks like you, too, have found your way back." 

Zalmiszar set his teacup down on a nearby table and started to sense Cimoryn nearby. 

The fidgety juvenile was always nearby, of course--loitering around in search of purpose--but as every second ticked on by, Zalmiszar pieced together that the young omnispirit had to have been nearing his lair.

"Z, let me in!" The voice belonging to Cimoyrn screamed from outside.

The doors separate and in comes the silver-haired, permanently-twenty immortal, his eyes full of worry.

"He's actually come back. Z, he's here!" Cimoryn shakes his head, and Zalmiszar looks straight ahead. 

"What are we going to do?" The young four-hundred-year-old omnispirit bit his lip in anticipation.

Zalmiszar considers his young friend's fear, but doesn't replicate it.

"We stop him." The elder omnispirit says without reserve, summoning his teacup and watching it fly in the air. When the cup reaches his lips, he tilts the cup forward and drinks, finishing the contents all in one slow gulp.

Chapter 39: Father, Hear Me Cry

Leah

 

 

Claire isn't talking. She hasn't said anything or moved an inch in the last however many minutes that’ve passed. Still hunched over her knees, her curly shoulder-length hair gathers in front of her face, obscuring it. She is ominously still, and I feel as though I can't do anything else but watch. My eyes ricochet from one part of her to the next until I realize that I was wrong: She is moving. But it's not just one limb—not one arm, or even a leg—it's her entire body. She's shaking. Vibrating. And it's all because of me.

"Claire." My voice comes out raspy, and I don't like it; I sound unsure, uncertain, nervous. The last one is true, I admit, but unsure? Uncertain? They couldn't be farther away from the truth. From what I believe to be concrete.

”Claire, I need you to kn—“ But I was cut short by thunderous running from behind. My head twists around, I notice that Claire's does not, and I spot Shane and Abigail heading our way, passing the cherry blossom tree.

”We're here, we're here!” Abigail skids to a stop, and Shane’s hair sticks to his forehead, his entire face red and sweaty.

"Yeah, is she alright?" Shane ogles the two of us, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

I stand and give Claire a quick glance over before turning to her friends. 

"What's going on?" I stare at them, confusion setting in. I wonder if they heard her cry.

"Claire!" Abigail says a little louder, her arms flying in the air as if to mean 'duh, how do you not know this'?.

"She screamed for us to come over." The lavender-haired girl continues, her eyes just as enlarged and protruded as Shane's.

"She said she was in danger!” Shane passes me in one brisk movement and crouches down to meet Claire's level.

"Don't touch her." I order him, but he scoffs and does it anyway, and my grief floods to my throat. 

Before Shane can even lay a finger on her, Claire dodges away, as if sensing his closeness.

"She's," I pause to debate with myself, wondering if it would do any good to share what just happened between Claire and I. 

I clear my throat, the noise sounding forced, disingenuous.

"She didn't yell anything like that. She hasn't said anything." I turn to look down at the wooden beams, the water splashing just beneath my feet. 

Abigail and Shane share a look.

"We didn't imagine it." Abigail whispers, and a single drop of water falls on the top of my head. The sky's attempt to shroud the unease with its tears fails. 

A soft sound comes from the edge of the pier, putting an ultimate end to our silent exchange. When we turn to face the water, it's not the sky or even the rain starting to fall harder now that's making the sound.

It's Claire.

Shane is closer to her now, but I lean in and believe momentarily I can hear her heart. It's thumping rapidly, but it's just the waves starting to roll in. It's pouring out on my face, but it's just the sky weeping. It's ringing loudly in my ears, and I smell the dirt and the wine and can hear the rabbits and croaking frogs but it's—

It's Abigail, and she's screaming for me to take Claire's upper body. It takes a second for me to realize that Claire has passed out, but I kick into gear and hold onto her back, my arms finding their place underneath her. Abigail has her legs, and we're moving. Past Shane, off the pier and I think we're going to place her down in the snow, but Abigail keeps going, taking us past the cherry blossom tree and beyond Marnie's home. 

We're going to Claire's, the voice in my head screams. It is loud and thundering, and at first I wonder if it's coming from the sky. Still angry and desperate, the tears fall, but I'm unsure if they're mine or Yoba's.

It's at the porch where it clicks that Abigail wants us to put her inside. With Stinky and Smelly.

As if magically knowing we were here, the small junimos jump up and down at the window from inside the farmhouse. I feel my smile forming. It's small, but I know it's there. Maybe the junimos can do something to help.

Thanks to Shane, the door opens and we scurry inside and the junimos are quick to hop on top of Claire’s still body. 

We set her down on the couch in the living room, and the squeaks of Stinky and Smelly, both terrified and curious, fill the house. 

"We have a visitor." Shane says, his voice sounding far away. Abigail and I turn our bodies to the sound. The front door is still wide open, and Shane is standing next to it, one foot inside, one foot out. And someone else is standing next to Shane. Someone I recognize.

I feel my eyes darken. 

He’s noticed me, too.

I swallow my apprehension and watch him move into the house, his eyes taking on the same kind of intensity and lunacy they had the last time I saw him. But there's something else in his eyes. Fear.

"C." 

He nods curtly at me, a pained expression appearing on his face. 

"What's going on, C?" My breath is quickening, my heart begging for good news. 

"Who are you?" Abigail asks, walking into view, her questioning eyes penetrating the omnispirit.

But C doesn't look at her. His eyes, steely yet bright at the same time, are still solidly set on mine.

"To the Tower." C instructs, and I suddenly worry for Claire's safety. Why does he want us there?

"Now! Do as I say, please!" C begins ushering Abigail and Shane out the farmhouse, and I spin around and face Claire's limp body. The junimos are still squealing and buzzing at her, little green and purple hands softly tapping her cheek.

I lug Claire over my back, securing her arms around my neck. Stinky and Smelly latch on to one of Claire's legs, dangling and hopefully prepared for the inevitably tumultuous escapade we're about to endure.

"Leave them behind, Leah!" C yells from the door. Abigail and Shane are no longer in sight.

"No!" I raise my voice and begin shaking my head in protest. There's no way I'm abandoning them!

"They're magical beings, Leah. G will find us if we bring them with us!" 

"I'm not leaving them behind. What's happening! Why do we need to go to the Tower?" And then my eyes widen, a sudden and jolting fact crippling me in fear.

"Oh no!" I gasp for air. "The goblet! It's back at the cabin!"

I feel Claire sliding off my back and I go to adjust her, but I quickly notice there's nothing for me to grab. 

Whipping my neck around, I search for her, but she's gone. "No," I utter.

I twist back to the couch but she isn't there either. My eyes drop to the floor. Stinky and Smelly have disappeared, too.

"What have you done!" I'm screeching now and can't feel my pulse. The faint smell of wine lingers in the air and tickles the back of my throat.

"It's okay," C repeats as he guides me to the door. "You're okay."

I feel his hand on my back, his fingers icy and pulsating.

"She's going to be okay."

Chapter 40: Ignis Fatuus

Leah

 

 

Rasmodius ushers us in, and the accumulated exhaustion from these past months weigh heavily on every limb. Not just that, but I am keenly and achingly aware that C used his—I don’t even know what to call it, magic?—manipulation to get me to follow him; he’d fabricated yet another illusion and exploited my senses—again. Shane was right; of course he was. C was back, but for how long? And what is his purpose here in Pelican Town? 

"What's happened!" Rasmodius screams, his face out the door and swinging left to right, searching the forest wildly.

"It's Claire!" Shane sets her down, and I know what's coming.

"What happened to her?" The door shuts and seconds later Rasmodius appears in front of us. Crouched down, he puts two fingers up to Claire's neck.

"Explain." He retrieves something from his pocket and places it directly under Claire's nose, a single cylinder of smoke rising up to the ceiling.

Shane quickly goes into detail; how they heard Claire's cry for help, how they spotted us at the pier. How Claire suddenly went limp next to me. How I had completely and thoroughly ripped out any kind of softness she may have had left…

C whispers something to Rasmodius, and the wizard's face goes white. Just like Claire's did when I made her hate me for the second time…

Rasmodius materializes in front of me, and his lips move like he's telling me something important. 

"Is this true?" He asks sternly, and I can hear him clearly now.

"Yes." I respond, not even knowing what I'd just confirmed to. 

"Leah, you need to pay attention!" Rasmodius is angry. Or maybe he's concerned. I can't decipher between the two. My hands feel numb.

C turns to Rasmodius and whispers something else in his ear. Why aren't they saying anything to me?

"Leah!" Abigail interjects, her face distorted beyond recognition, blood leaking out of her ears. "You've stopped breathing!"

"Lay her down!" Someone yells. "Watch her head!" Someone else orders. 

I feel skin on my own, prodding fingers at the nape of my neck. Pestering, hot breath. 

Claire? Claire!

The world around me begins to crack down the middle, splintering off around me and falling at my feet. I close my eyes. Why can't I feel my toes?

I'm near.

My eyes shoot open. The voice fills my headspace, louder than anyone here in the Tower. “No…”.

Yes. 

"Goblet!" I hear myself howl, my voice sounding off. Wrong.

Shane and Abigail peer down at me, that much I know. But Shane's facial hair has grown exponentially; thick, black and coarse spikes of hair protrude from his cheeks and forehead.

In the past, Claire had mentioned briefly to me her experience in the caves below, having spotted these so-called monsters, Dust Sprites, deep in the Mines. Describing them as 'miniature coal-dropping fiends', they're all I can see now, protruding from Shane's face. I turn my head not too far, and stop breathing. Abigail no longer has eyes.

"Goblet!" I repeat, the voice in my head getting closer. But how is that possible? Is C playing another one of his tricks on me again? How can I know if this is real or not!

Abigail comes into frame again, blood no longer pouring out of her ears, no red-stained face devoid of eyes. Shane's hair is back to normal, and my feet and hands regain their feeling.

I open my mouth and speak, but what comes out freezes everyone to the ground, the smoke that had been rising from Claire's body now fading away.

Shane starts to shake his head. Abigail stares in confusion. C and Rasmodius wear similar grimaces, but ultimately show cognizance.

"Gareth is here." I say with absolute certainty. Shane's face falls, Abigail yells at him for an explanation, and the spectrals slowly raise their heads and watch the ceiling in anticipation, their faces grim and hollowed out.

And then I say it again and again and again.

Chapter 41: Fortuitous Grandeur

Leah

 

 

Rasmodius's head jerks to the side as though he'd just been struck. Moving toward the wall, his breathing—while nearly silent—becomes labored. I know this because I can tell by the way his chest rises and deflates that something is wrong; that I was right.

I hate that I’m right.

All at once, Rasmodius and C begin speaking in a foreign tongue, words that sound like something out of a hallucination rolling off their own. 

I turn to Abigail at rapid speed, my thoughts transforming as fast as lightning into words. "The goblet, Abigail! Grab the goblet from my cabin!" 

I then turn to Rasmodius, my head ablaze with a plan I pray to everything will work. "Go with her. Protect her."

Rasmodius's body whirls around from the wall and looks at me uncomfortably. Abigail wears a determined face like I knew she would.

"There's no use in getting it, Leah," the wizard tells me. "The only purpose the goblet has is to summon me. And anyhow," he continues, a weighed frown appearing on his tired face. "My home is enchanted. This is the only safe place for us!" The wizard pierces me with his scowl, but I don't waver; I know his anger is just fear.

"Can you make another goblet? Enchant it with something to make us invisible!" I clench my fists in anticipation, the room taking on an entirely new energy.

Rasmodius shakes his head vehemently, his scowl persisting. "I don't have another goblet, Leah, I gave the last one to you!"

My patience wearing thin, I grunt and fall on my knees, inching towards Claire's still unconscious body. Her face is still how I remembered it from just a few minutes—years—ago; pale, ashen, divine. I memorize it and wonder if that's enough.

I cradle her head in my hands. "Rasmodius, what about re-enchantment?"

"What?" The wizard falters from behind me, and I can only picture the exasperated, open-mouthed expression that's happening on his face right now.

"The goblet! Can you alter it, change its enchantment?" 

There's silence, and with each second that passes, I get angrier, the vitriol that's been filling me up for a while now not stopping. I'm sorry I came back, Claire—I’m sorry for making things worse!

I stand up and feel the cold concrete beneath my shoes. Everyone is staring at each other.

"Yes." The wizard says firmly, looking right at me. Fear has completely taken over his body, his fingers vibrating at his sides, his lip quivering ever so slightly.

"Go," C nods his head at the wizard, the omnispirit's argent hair rising as though an electrical current was passing through—and maybe there was. "Retrieve the goblet and then return. I'll protect her."

C nods again, but at me this time. I return the gesture, the current in the room growing larger, stronger.

"Can you sense G at all, Shane?" The wizard asks, and our eyes magnetize over to the bearded man, his emotionless face almost sinister.

"No," Shane bites the inside of his cheek, his eyes closed. "I can't—I don't know where he is."

"Let's not waste another moment," Rasmodius says, and we all nod in unison.

I watch Abigail pause and scrutinize the wizard's body, waiting for him to move first. As soon as he does, the two dash for the door, opening it wide and leaving with haste.

As soon they're out of sight, I hear squeaking coming from the front door. I grasp at my chest and spot the two small, colorful beings bounce their way inside the Tower. I nearly make the same sound at their emergence and extend my arms. "Stinky! Smelly!" 

I run to them, the door still wide open, and embrace them as they jump into my chest.

C seethes from behind me, but I don't care. The junimos squeal their song, and I stand up, keeping them close to my chest.

That's when I realize that Shane hasn't moved from his spot once, and I think it's because he's still upset at me for uttering G's name out loud.

But there's a look on his face. I don't like it. The way his eyebrows are digging into his steely eyes, and how his face has become sullen and colorless. It shows neither fear or anger.

It's regret.

"Shane?" I slowly walk towards Claire, the junimos' squeaking becoming louder and more frequent as I draw near.

"I'm sorry, Leah." Shane says softly, dejectedly, his eyes as dark as they were just moments ago.

My eyes widen, and the puzzle pieces of his silence start to click together and fall into place. It all makes sense now.

"You didn't tell us."

"What's going on?" The silver-haired omnispirit moves closer inbetween us now, seemingly oblivious to the obvious.

"You've been all-seeing this entire time!" I start to walk backwards, Shane getting closer, his open hands a sign of anything but an apology or an explanation.

"There was a reason you never warned us when danger was nearby."

My back is to the front door now, the chill of the outside biting at my exposed neck.  

"And you!" I inhale sharply and stare straight ahead at the omnispirit, and the junimos start buzzing aloud at one another. 

"You're in on this!" I turn and start running, feeling the weight of this choice on my shoulders. There's no reason to run, the familiar voice in my head yells, and I stop in my tracks. Nothing is safe.

"Mother!" I curse and stare at the snow, my emotions merging and finding no where to go. I begin running again, the icy mush of the ground squelching from underneath me. 

The dark of the night casts shadows where there weren't any before, and the junimos continue to buzz.

Come on out, Lee! She persists.

"Shut up!" I scream at her even though I know she isn’t physically here, and Stinky and Smelly yell with me.

"What does it mean?" I voice this question but am aware that the answer—what I’m actually desperate to get answers on—is not within my grasp. 

I try to push myself, try to go faster away from the threats that keep getting stronger. C and Shane must be on my tail!

Whipping my head over my shoulder, I expect to see both of them a fingers' width away, their sinister snarls and 'we had you fooled' cackles leading me to my doom.

But there's nothing there. Nothing but—

"Leah! We have it!" Abigail's voice rings loudly.

I whip my head back around and Abigail and the wizard are running right for us, the golden goblet shining brilliantly in Abigail's hand. "Let's bring it back to her!"

"No!" I yelp, a thought hitting me with such jolting force. "I left her!"

I hastily remove the goblet from Abigail's hand and force my frozen legs to run back to the Tower, knowing the danger I could be returning to might end me, but finding comfort in my demise if that means saving Claire.

"Why'd you leave her!" Abigail shouts from behind, and I bite down on my lip, hard. Maybe you should tell them, Leah.

"C and Shane are there to watch over her!" The wizard responds, and Abigail hums in agreement. I bite my tongue and keep running.

When we reach the Tower's entrance, I stop, knowing what lies beyond the open door is fatal.

I turn to Rasmodius. "Is it re-enchanted? If Claire drinks from this goblet, she'll be protected, right?"

The wizard zeros in on me, his labored breaths filling the immediate space. "What's wrong, Leah?"

I close my eyes in an effort to find my words.

"Shane has betrayed us. I think he's made a deal with C. Is this going to help her?" I raise the goblet, feeling its prior enchantment buzz and tingle at my fingertips.

Rasmodius grimaces at me, his shoulders sinking. Abigail stares in confusion at us both. 

"I need my cauldron, Leah. I have to get in there." He tells me sternly.

"They have to be inside still.” My hands lose their feeling again. “They're not expecting me to come back, but if I run in, I'm willing to distract them so you can do what you need to do." Stinky and Smelly look up at me, but I refuse to look back at them. I can't bear to face their innocent faces, knowing I've let them down. Let their mother down.

"Leah," the Wizard eyes me cautiously. "If what you say is true—“

"It is. So do whatever is needed, but if they come for me—“ I'm not sure how to finish the sentence.
So I don't.

I hand the junimos over to Abigail, noting the apprehension on all of their faces, and run. My feet kick into motion behind me, taking me inside the Tower. 

But when I get there, Shane is gone, and C is hovering over Claire's body.

"Where is he!" I ask, running over to Claire and dropping down in front of her.

"He left." C continues to stare down at her, wiping the tears that are falling down Claire's cheeks. 

"Why?" I move closer to her, pushing the omnispirit away. Claire's tears don't stop.

"He took off in the opposite direction as soon you ran. Listen, Leah—“

"I can't hear any more deception tonight, C. If you have to use your powers, do it, but I can't hear anything else." 

"Leah, you need to know—“

"I don't need to know anything, C! No explanations, no apologies—just keep G away!" I whip my head up, knowing my own tears are falling but doing nothing to shield them. "Can you do that?"

The omnispirit stares at me briefly before standing up, moving away without another word uttered.

"It is done!" Rasmodius yells from behind, and I turn to see him carrying the goblet full of mysterious liquid, inching near us until he's at Claire's side, just directly opposite of me.

I raise Claire's head with one hand, and Rasmodius perches the tip of the goblet on her bottom lip, tilting it slightly. I use my other hand to open her mouth, and the grey, boggy-like substance seeps into her open mouth.

"Space, space!" I order, and Rasmodius jumps backwards. The silence pierces the tension in the room.

It's taking too long.

"Nothing is happening!" Fear grips me by the throat.

"Give it time." Rasmodius tries to calm me, but Claire's still face and constant tears freeze me in place.

"Nothing is happening, nothing! Nothing!"

The wizard draws near again, and hovers over her body.

After wiping the remaining tears away, his eyes glaze over Claire's face in faltered confusion. "It should have worked by now."

"What did you give her!" I grab onto Rasmodius's shoulders and shake them!

"My protection spell—it was supposed to engulf her in a cloud, a force-field if you will, that nothing can penetrate!"

"Then why isn't it happening!" I plead desperately, the corners of my eyes twitching.

The wizard stands up, and I follow his movements, my legs gaining just enough energy to pick me up.

"Something is blocking the spell." The wizard brings a hand up to his mouth in deep thought.

"She is not just unconscious then," C says flippantly from a corner in the room, his voice small but loud.

We turn around, facing the omnispirit, desperation written on our forlorn faces.

"G's already got her."

I register the words that have fallen from the omnispirit's mouth, and twist my body around until I'm facing Claire again. 

The wizard is talking, asking questions, not shutting up. I find my spot next to her, crouch down to her level again, and hold her tear-stained cheek.

"Hey!" I hear Abigail blurt out. I can't bear to look. I can't reconcile my fear. I’m about ready to call it quits and join Claire.

"A weird chest just appeared out of thin air, if anyone cares to know."

I twist around, the current in the room finding its spark again. A familiar grey chest with green and purple blobs sits right next to Abigail, a certain glow emanating off of it.

"Join Claire..." I whisper, moving closer to the chest. This must be a portal!

"Wait!" Rasmodius yells out to me, the fear in his voice impalpable and sharp.

An unsettling voice echoes in my head; it tells me that the choices I’m making will have consequences. That what I’m about to do will only hurt the future, and might possibly stop it altogether.

But I've already touched the top of the chest, my fingers tingling, receiving the current that has engulfed the room entirely now. The smell of coconut sorbet begins to fill my nostrils.

I close my eyes and allow the electricity to spiral itself around me. Claire, I tell her, knowing she’s out there, somewhere, with him. 

Wait for me.

Chapter 42: As Below

 

 

 

It was dark when Claire awakened. An abysmal fog shrouded her vision, her eyes peeling open for the first time in a long while. The sleep in her eyes had congealed together like an envelope that had been sealed for years and was just now being cut open.

With every second that passed, she fathomed her fate, which was undoubtedly concocted by Gareth, and his invisible but all-pervasive grasp took her by the throat.

She tried ruminating on everything leading up to this moment but every time she was met with a memory or surface-level scenery, Claire's vision clouded even more and she could only think of Leah.

"We knew each other-"

"No!" Claire cried out, and Gareth's menacing laugh bounced off the clandestine walls and echoed throughout the endless prison cell.

"In the tiny patch in the middle of nowhere, I saw you for the first time-"

The tips of her fingers began to ice over, spreading throughout the rest of her body like a forest fire, only there was no heat present. The bitter and torpid bite of deception scorched her instead.

"And from across the pond, I waved, and you spotted me-"

Claire thrashed around, but Gareth's impenetrable grip on her did not loosen. 

"I knew exactly where we were. I knew where we were, but didn't say anything-"

"Papà," Claire whimpered, her voice escaping from her little by little, her face as pale as the fog that had wrapped itself around her, the thick cloud pulling her apart—bit by hazy bit. 

"And if I just took you home-"

Claire closed her eyes as the ice took away her voice, her throat restricting and closing in on her.

"Maybe we wouldn't be here."

"And here we are, Claire." Gareth's voice echoed endlessly around her, cutting into her thoughts, his tone rich and dark and horrifically inescapable.

What do you want with me! Claire screamed inwardly, her body now completely encased in ice.

"Your rage feels uncannily like mine." 

Zalmiszar warned me of you!

While Claire couldn't see him, she felt Gareth's smile, his sinister leer layering her with even more ice.

"Zalmiszar and the others all seek the same, Claire. They were never your friend."

You only spread lies, and I refuse to listen to them anymore. Where are we!

His cackle filled the space once more before dying off, slicking off the edge of existence.

And then, quietly:

"Everywhere."

A static cut through the cell, and Claire felt a low rumble coming from all around her.

Her prison then broke before her eyes, the ice chipping away and falling down into the nothingness below.

"We have a visitor." Gareth said pointedly, almost as if he'd already known of this and had kept it a secret.

Until now.

"Claire!" A distant but familiar voice rang loudly in the abyss, sounding close but also too far away. Claire froze.

"Please don't hurt her," her words materialized in front of her, and she gasped in surprise. "Don't hurt her, G!"

The quiet that followed disturbed her, but the ice was beginning to melt away, the color returning to her cheeks and her throat finding room to breathe again.

"Claire, I can feel you!" The voice continued, and Claire suddenly panicked. This was planned, she thought. Gareth isn't doing anything to her, she realized. 

This is a trap.

"Don't come any closer!" Claire commanded Leah, but watched wide-eyed as the nothingness that had been swallowing her began to take form.

She could see Magnus appearing—transparent but definitely there! 

More and more familiar faces began to take shape, and Claire watched as their faces reacted to what was going on around them, all of them equally uncertain and terrified.

"What's happening? What are they doing here, Gareth!" But the omnispirit continued his silence, and the dread that followed intensified her realization that whatever he had in store for her wasn't good. Wasn't good for everyone.

"I'm here, Claire, I'm here!" Leah cried, sounding so close; it was like she was standing only inches away.

Then Claire was falling, the familiar faces of her friends disappearing, and the void swallowed her up once again. Claire fell and fell and fell, and in the center of the void, as the rumble grew louder, Pelican Town crackled in and out of existence.

Chapter 43: So Above

Harvey

 

 

I close the door behind me and walk away from Lewis's bedroom. 

Ridiculous, I think to myself, spotting the array of election bulletins and posters all across the kitchen table. This whole town is going to shit.

I peer out the front windows, ensure no one is outside, and then promptly exit the Mayor's home. 

With the deed done, I wipe my hands of the filth and follow the winding path back to the clinic. 

I'm admiring the icicles that have formed around the saloon when the sound of a dull thud steers me away. I squint, trying my best to pierce through the layer of darkness, but see nothing of interest. I continue walking.

Then, emerging from the shadows, Shane races past me, a distinct coconut smell filling my nose. 

"Shane?" I call out for him, but he doesn't stop, nor does he respond.

My eye twitches. Those damn kids.

"Shane, we have a traitor around!"

He fades into the night once again, but the familiar smell still coats the air. 

"It's not safe!" 

No response.

I should have known the town's alcoholic would put himself in inevitable danger. 

Angrily I head toward the clinic and press into the doors with both of my hands, but before entering I look over my shoulder at the mayor's house one last time.

Grinning, I shake my head. Pathetic.

Just then, an electric current runs through my body; from the top of my head down to my feet, I feel myself freeze into place. Though my feet are glued to the ground, my eyes are free to wander.

No rain or gloomy clouds looming overhead. No threat of thunder or lightning nearby.

But when a flash of white light blankets Pelican Town, painting it the shade of powdery snow, everything else fades entirely.

"What is that?" I marvel, however I cannot hear myself speak. Because the words aren't coming out of my mouth; because I am not forming them with my mouth or tongue.

A familiar face coruscates in the strange, undiminished halo, like a flashlight cutting through a dark room.

"Claire." I marvel once more, their face becoming clear in the light.

Though I cannot move or hear myself speak, fear permeates the ground and the air that I breathe. 

My limbs are numb, but the dread that seeps deep into the soil and travels up the soles of my feet spark like a flame, electrocuting me at lightning speed.

Chapter 44: So Above [Two]

Penny

 

 

Penny crosses off on her mental to-do list and exits the Library, closing the door behind her before tucking the folder of homework under her arm. She makes her trek back home.

"Mom's not going to like this," she mutters under her breath, noting the time. "Damnit!" She curses to herself, making note of what this will cost her.

A dark figure crashes into her, sending both Penny and the unknown stranger to the soft ground. 

Hand to her head, the woman curses again.

"What a mess!" She grimaces at the dirtied folder, its contents spilled out and just as tainted.

When she turns to the stranger, who has now picked himself up, her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Shane?" The mud begins to seap into her clothes.

"Shane, help me up, would you?" She lifts up her arm, hoping he would take it and lug her up. 

The man glares down at her, his body placid and unwavering. He does not reach out for her.

"You should get home, Penny."

His voice is flat, emotionless. It scares her.

"Are you okay? Why aren't you helping me up?" 

Just then, an electric current covers Pelican Town, submerging it into a shade of white so bright, Penny's forearms weren't enough to protect her.

A familiar voice echoes from all around and from every possible direction, permeating deep throughout Penny's body as though it was coursing through her veins and sharing a stream with her blood.

It's Claire, Penny reveled, recognizing the familiar crescendo. 

Feeling around the ground, Penny’s hands search for Shane's shoes, his legs--anything to use as leverage. 

"Pull me up!" She screams, but realizes in debilitating fear that he is no longer standing in front of her. 

Just as quick as it came, the bright light disappears, Pelican Town getting cloaked in darkness once again. 

Sensing someone behind her, Penny whips around and hears her ankle crack. An indescribable pain shoots up her leg. 

As she keels over and holds her calf, a blurry figure lowers themself to the ground and scoops her up in their arms. 

"Shane?" She cries out shakily, tears flooding down her cheeks. "Please take me home!"

But it wasn't Shane who picked her up.

"Let me help you, Penny." The doctor reassured her, his fingers squeezing her shoulders and his hot breath hitting her cheek. 

"Did you see Shane?" She squeaked. "And that light!"

"What is happening, Harvey?" She could only be described as a lamb being taken to slaughter; her fear, which was like a rope, gripped and wrapped itself around her neck. 

"We're almost home, Penny." He soothed her as best as he could and stopped at the familiar door, rapping at it tenderly.

When Pam opened the door and received her daughter with desperate hands, Harvey turned robotically and headed for the forest.

Chapter 45: So Above [Three]

Abigail

 

 

Leah evaporates as soon as her hand touches the chest, which I am now putting together is magical. 

Everything is magical.

"Protect the chest, Abigail!" Rasmodius drops a handful of grainy dust in the palm of my hand. "Dash it on top of it and stay in the barrier!"

I do not understand but I run for the chest, sprinkle the dust over it, and find myself and the chest being enveloped by a bubbling shield.

It starts from the floor and circles around us, and I put my hands up to touch it.

Wet and sticky. Like an actual bubble. But magical.

When I turn around, Rasmodius is at Claire's side. But then he's picking her up and moving towards me!

"What are you doing!" I stare at Claire's limp body and then back at Rasmodius.

"To her farm. I know what needs to be done, but I must be alone."

He races to the door then turns to look back at me. "Stay in the barrier. It will keep you and the portal safe. If I--" he shakes his head "--when I succeed, Claire and Leah will need the chest to come back. Stay and do not leave."

And then he looks over at C, who I am now putting together is an omnispirit, and stares sternly at him.

"I don't know what to do with you," Rasmodius utters under his breath. C returns his stare, but doesn't say a word in response.

"Do you wish to betray us?" The wizard asks, and the omnispirit shakes his head.

"I believe you."

Rasmodius then gives him a curt nod and disappears, leaving me, the chest, and C all alone in his Tower.

Chapter 46: A Second Chance in the Dark

 

 

 

In the timeless expanse of the void, where both familiar and foreign shapes danced in silence, Claire drifted. Trapped between existence and oblivion, she felt the weight of isolation pressing down on her like a crushing wave.

Faces hued in and out and back and forth all around her, the curves of their agape mouths and confused frowns shifting and morphing like smoke in the wind.

Harvey, Claire marveled, Pelican Town feeling so close yet so far away. And Penny, too!

"Why me? And why now?" Claire bellowed into the deep darkness, knowing G was somewhere close.

The air crackled with energy, and an opening appeared in the void. Warmth flooded Claire instantly.

"Claire!" A voice called from within the opening, a gap that only grew in size by the second.

"Leah?" Claire tried grappling onto something, but her attempt to keep herself steady was futile.

An arm protruded from the hole, the familiar view of the Tower vibrating behind it in the background.

"It's me, Claire! Follow my voice!"

"I'm trying!" Claire beckoned with the void, afraid of G and his grip on her.

But as she thought of G, and his grip on her, the faster she traveled toward the opening!

"This doesn't make sense!" She cried, but thought of G again, and she drifted closer to the hole.

"Keep thinking of him, Claire! You're doing it! Everything will soon make sense!" Leah guided.

But Claire shook her head, thinking of Leah and Harvey and Penny and her junimos, and she felt herself growing colder and farther away from Leah. From home.

"Come back!" Leah yelled in fear at her again, and Claire put the pieces of this seemingly endless puzzle together. Thinking of G was her only way of escaping! 

At the touch of her friend's arm, Claire clung to Leah's solid frame, and coconut sorbet swallowed itself down her throat. It singed her insides on its way down, and perhaps acknowledging it would mean returning to home.

She thought hard of the taste, of G, of the void, of the emptiness, of the isolation—

"Claire, you're here!" 

Then Claire opened her eyes, and Leah, Magnus, and Abigail all joined together around her. 

Stinky and Smelly engulf her in a giant and warm hug, their squeals piercing her eardrums in the very best way. 

"You're home, Claire, you're home, you're home, you're home!" 

Claire continued to think of G, but the cold came back. 

As if sensing the ice herself, Leah's eyes widened and she dropped to the floor, cradling Claire's small and weak frame.

"Stop thinking of him!" She cried out, and Claire stares fearfully into Leah's eyes.

"The Abyss held onto you because everything is reversed there!" Leah held Claire's face in her hands.

"Your hands are sticky," Claire sighed, and as outlandishly untimely of a commment as it was, Leah laughed.

"Think of us now, okay?" Leah told her, and it was an order—Claire knew. An order she would take with her to the grave. 

"How did that happen?" Claire sat, amazed at her existence, at the newfound discovery. 

"I don't just open doors, Claire," Leah smiled at her, shaking her head in disbelief. "I've unlocked my true powers--the ability to open dimensions!"

"The goblet worked," Magnus smiled, the golden cup dropping from his hand and clashing onto the floor with a thud. 

"But who knows how long its enchantment will last—" Leah frowned at the empty goblet, a forlorn look in her eyes appearing quickly. "We got her to get away, but he'll come back."

"He always does." Leah folded her arms and sent daggars at the front door, as if G himself was about to enter through it.

Abigail kneeled down and held her friend's hand. Claire smiled gratefully.

"It's time she knows what she's capable of." A voice stated calmly at the entrance, and everyone turned in fear.

Zalmiszar stood in human form at the open door, and while his feet were firmly planted to the floor, his hair floated like ethereal silk, its tendrils cascading down the front of his shapeless body. 

"Cimoryn—" He commanded, stretching out one of his sickly pale arms to the younger omnispirit in the back corner of the room. 

"And Magnus," he nodded at the Wizard, who stared at the elder omnispirit in confusion. "Join me around Claire."

When they did just that, and Abigail and Leah stood back to observe, Claire watched as the three joined hands around her. 

"We agreed it wasn't time yet." Magnus uttered under his breath, a stone cold front icing his exterior. 

What is he talking about? Claire almost said out loud, and instinctively reached for her junimos. They remained behind her.

"And now he is here. We don't have much of a choice anymore, Rasmodius."

"Let's begin," Zalmiszar exhaled, and a similar static enveloped itself around Claire, who stared up at the men huddled up around her. Their faces showing varying types of emotion.

Zalmiszar, who showed nothing but dignified confidence—unwavering neutrality, she thought, as though this was a job to do and nothing else. Because maybe it was just that.

Cimoryn, who offered a reserved but earnest smile—he was only here for Zalmiszar, Claire decided.

And Magnus—his fear was written all over him. His eyes, widened and seconds away from mistifying. His mouth, open and uncertain. This wasn't part of the plan—a plan I knew nothing about.

Once the static dissipated, Claire sat in confusion. Should she have felt something? Electrified? 

But the doubt peeled back as soon as she glossed over the Wizard and Omnispirits. Even Abigail. She trekked across the room to where Leah was and...

"Beautiful." The word left her lips, her doubt transforming into pure awe.

Though she was still in the Tower, a sort of holographic sheen covered everything. The floor, furniture, ceiling, and even the faces around her took on an otherworldly, celestial gleam. 

"This entire time?" Claire gawked in disbelief, holding her hands up to her face. They almost twinged with newfound glory. "Has the Tower always gleamed like this, Mag?"

The Wizard smiled down at her. Restrained and full of regret, but it was still a smile.

"Claire," he offered his hand, which she took. As soon she was on her feet, the Wizard sighed heavily. 

"All of Pelican Town looks like this." He dropped on her, and the weight of the truth nearly caused her to plummet down to the ground again. 

Abigail's knitted eyebrows and taut frown told Claire she didn't know what Magnus was talking about.

But when Claire found Leah again...

Leah's chest rose and then deflated in anticipation. She knew what Magnus was saying. She knew.

"You couldn't see." Said Zalmiszar, and Cimoryn nodded dejectedly at the floor.

Leah stepped into the circle and gulped, finding Claire's hands and squeezing them tightly. "Now you can," she said.

Getting lost in the forest. The rabbits, the toads, even. Her father falling down the hill and hitting his head.

But with all the carnage that flooded Claire's memory, the sparkle in Leah's eyes—the one she'd seen at nine years old—flickered before her.

Claire could see.

"Pelican Town is not safe, aren't you all aware?" The doctor's voice echoed strangely throughout the Tower, and Claire, along with the others, turned to face the Town's physician who stood at the open door.

"Mr. Harvey," Magnus spoke, his hands squeezing tightly at his sides. "Return to the clinic at once. This is not a matter where your presence is needed."

A sneer twisted up on Harvey's mouth, and the cold returned to Claire.

"Actually, my presence is needed more than ever," said the doctor, stepping inside the Tower. 

"Shane needs to be stopped." Harvey cracked his fingers, and then his neck. "He's out there, somewhere, acting suspicious."

Claire then noticed an anger boiling within from the woman standing next to her. "Leah?"

When Harvey was practically hovering over them, Leah took her place in front of Claire, as though shielding her from the doctor.

"Are you working with him?" Leah accused, and the Wizard and the Omnispirits gawked in silence. 

Claire took in Harvey's taken aback stance, and a genuinely confused scowl tugged at his mouth.

"Working with him? Have you lost your mind! No, he's out there defaming the Town, I bet, and sabotaging the election!"

Everyone shared a unanimous look. Then Magnus took a step in front of Leah, who sunk back to let the Wizard take over. 

"I thought..." Leah trailed off, and Claire frowned in confusion.

"If Shane is at fault for any wrongdoings, we'll take precautions however necessary to ensure the Town's safety. Now off to the clinic, alright?" The Wizard nodded at the doctor, who also nodded slowly in response, his scowl turning into a dumbfounded pout. 

The Wizard closed and locked the door after Harvey's departure, and when he turned to face the rest of the group, a sort of downcast gloom weighed heavily in the air.

When the silence had become too much to bear, Abigail stepped into view.

"Can anyone explain what's going on?"

Chapter 47: Fool's Silver

 

 

 

Magnus finished explaining everything to Abigail who, up until now, wore a confused frown on her face. 

"—and that's why we're here." He concluded, solemnity taking him by the throat and casting a nervous tension in the air. 

Now Abigail wore an even more confused frown. 

"I know," Claire sympathized, smiling sadly at Abigail. "There's so much to understand, but I'm afraid we don't have time to ask questions." 

The woman with the aquiline nose stared off in the direction of the door. "Now that we know we can't think of Him—unless we want Him to appear—maybe the answer to getting rid of him is simple."

"How long has this town—you, Leah, the omnispirits—how long have you thought of G?"

The people in the room gasped at the sound of His name being uttered, but Claire shook her head and waved her hands in the air enthusiastically, reassuringly. "It's okay! If we don't think of Him, maybe saying his name doesn't actually summon Him?"

"Magnus, think of your old familiar, Jacksby," Claire ran up to the Wizard and nodded her head in excitement. "He was downright the meanest cat I ever met, wasn't he?"

The Wizard smiled sadly and fondly, memories of his late cat-familiar likely flooding him at the speed of lightning. 

"And Zalmiszar," Claire walked up to the tall elder, his eyes showing unease.  "Think of someone you loved. Did you also have a cat?"

The omnispirit looked through her, his thoughts instantly going to Dabria, his eyes glazing. "Perhaps."

"Good!" Claire pumped her arms. "Keep thinking of them, and don't stop!"

Then Claire ran over to Abigail and Leah. Taking Abigail's hands into her own, Claire nodded.

“Think of the graveyard. The mines. Your passion lies in both those places, don't they?"

Abigail grinned. "And suddenly I'm ready for a fight!"

In no time, Claire rested her gaze on Leah.

"I don't have to tell you who to think of," Claire told her, collapsing into her and breathing in the familiar scent of lavender. "Keep it up—"

 

 

Leah

 

 

"Keep it up." Claire says to me.

She's talking to me again! She's actually talking to me. She forgives me, she forgives me, she forgives me...

She forgives me.

 

 

Claire

 

 

After a beat, Claire removed herself from Leah and moved toward the corner where the younger omnispirit stood.

"Cimoryn." Claire said, stretching out her open palm for him to take. When he did, and hesitantly at that, she squeezed.

"I don't know you, but if you have any sliver of good in you, you'll think of something. Something, some place, someone. Anyone will do. Please?"

The younger omnispirit eyed her, his blackjet scrutinization pouring down on her. 

With a curt nod, Cimoryn planted a seed of hope in Claire, one that began to grow and grow.

Returning to the center of the room, the woman breathed heavily, looking over the bittersweet faces that were looking back at her. 

"I don't know what G wants from me. I don't know why you're here—" she gestured towards Cimoryn "—but I'm sure you're tied to all of this. Magnus," Claire fixated on the Wizard.

"How can we get rid of him? What can we do?" She pleaded.

Magnus stared back at her with a painful expression, the gap inbetween his eyes closing in. 

"It's not what we can do, Claire." He gulped, turning to the omnispirits. "Ask yourself, how long have you had the chest?"

Claire turned around and gaped at the purple and green box, reminding her of her junimos, who bounced softly nearby. She stared at them, fixated on their colors. 

Claire always thought it interesting that a chest that collected dust in her cave would look eerily similar to Stinky and Smelly. But now? Was it not the coincidence she'd always wanted to believe it was? Was it, in fact, the origin of all of this?

"When were you going to tell me, Magnus?" Claire took a step forward, and her junimos squeaked as they usually did when the air grew thick with tension. "When were you going to tell me the chest had any significance? To this? To all of this?"

"Child, this is not something I knew," the Wizard held his hands out in front of him defensively. "I ask you not because I've known, but because I'm just now putting the pieces together."
"Your chest appeared just moments ago. This, and the fact that it's been on your farm all this time, is not just by chance."

"The chest was never yours to begin with." Cimoryn voiced, causing everyone to look his way. Stepping into the light, his face looked tired and distraught.

"I knew your farm looked familiar," he started, moving towards Claire. "Not really your farm, but moreso what it was built on top of."

"Tell me!" She cried out, and Leah stepped in as well, finding her place beside Claire, her hand finding hers too.

"It's where Gareth's ectoplasm resides. His essence is there, somewhere." He concluded, and the temperature in the Tower dropped drastically.

"The reason we're all able to take human form is that when destruction hit us and sent us here, we had to be born again. That required all three of what made us us to be regained again. Spirit, human, wizard. Without our spirit, we wouldn't be whole, therefore we'd be uncapable of being born again. Starting over."

"Zalmiszar and I, our ectoplasm was still intact; we had our human portion. Gareth did not. The unfortunate news is that somewhere on your farm, his ectoplasm is buried." Cimoryn shook his head, but opened his mouth again.
"It appears he may be trying to get through you to get to his essence. But there's just one problem."

"The chest," Claire pieced together, walking over to the enchanted box. Stinky and Smelly followed after her. "It's... protecting me?"

"I'm not sure what it does," Cimoryn replied from behind. "But it seems as though it, and your junimos, are connected. Whether for good or..."

He let his sentence trail off, and the chill in the room intensified. 

Looking at her colorful friends, Claire felt fear in her heart. A fear so heavy and strong, she pondered their purpose in her life. She questioned how they met; was it purely by chance? Or was something else happening that day in the mines? Was she planted there to save them, or were they there to be saved by her? 

In one swift movement, Claire picked up her chest and crouched down low, allowing her junimo friends to hop on her shoulders. Turning, she glossed over the people in the Tower, their faces grim and forlorn.

But that seed of hope from earlier did its growing, and now it had blossomed into something bigger. Something that was almost tangible, she could touch it if she willed it to happen.

Adrenaline coursing through her, Claire inhaled deeply, acknowledging the seed now as a giant beanstalk of determination.

As she exhaled, she tightened her grip on the chest, and her junimos began to squeak loudly.

"We need to find G's ectoplasm and destroy it."

Chapter 48: Ectoplasm

Leah

 

 

It was the wild determination in her eyes that worried me first. They were fixed on the ground before her, on the patch of earth she was digging into with fervent energy. Each thrust of the shovel was met with a grunt, her brow furrowing with concentration. Her movements were methodical, almost ritualistic. Dig, pause, wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, then dig again. There was a rhythm to it, a dance with the earth itself.

Though the rain had long stopped, the muddied ground made it both easy and difficult to work with. Rasmodius had nearly tripped three times now, and Z and C watched us from the trees. Unease flooded me, as I'm sure it did for Rasmodius and Claire. It's been a while now, and nothing.

Then, Claire let out a piercing scream, which kicked my worry into solid fear. My eyes never leaving hers, I find my spot in front of her and grip her shoulders. "Do you need a break?"

With her focus glued to the ground beneath her, she shakes her head and continues digging. This has to be her thirtieth hole tonight. 

"What does ectoplasm even look like?" Abigail protested, crumbling to the ground.

"It's not here, Claire." I sighed, looking over at Rasmodius. He'd made it all the way over to the farmhouse, leaning against the railing to the stairs. 

I'm about to call it quits when, in one abrupt movement, Claire tosses her shovel to the side and stomps past me. Whirling around, I follow her toward the tree line. She's headed for Cimoryn.

"You said it would be here!" Claire shot, running up to the younger omnispirit and pointing angrily at him. 

Cimoryn stares off in the distance, presumably at the farm, ignoring Claire altogether. Zalmiszar tries to comfort her but does it poorly; he eyes her sympathetically, but I wonder if it's actually pity, veiled by the mask of sadness. Can omnispirits even feel sadness?

It didn't matter, anyway.
Claire wasn't even looking at him.

"Please, C," she begged, falling to her knees in front of him. "I deserve to live in peace. We all do."

"I can't tell you where it is because I don't know, Claire." He told her. "Please, remove yourself from the ground." Listening to him, Claire rose and crossed her arms. I paced slowly behind her.

"What now?" Claire asked.

"You’ve been having burglary problems as of late, haven’t you?" 

Claire turned to me rapidly, shock written on her face. Whirling back to the omnispirit, she nods her head enthusiastically.

"Yes, this whole town has been robbed. We think it's G trying to reclaim his full power by taking our valuables."

Cimoryn nods curtly. "It's him alright. But why would he do that when the only thing he wants is right here?" 

We take turns looking at the expansive farmland, all unanimously confused and at a loss. 

Then, my eyes widen. "What if it was a distraction?"

Claire looks to me, her brow raised. "What do you mean? The robberies?"

I nod, taking a step closer to her. "What if he intended to cause drama in town so that he could have your farm all to himself?"

"That clearly didn't work," Claire interjected. "We started the neighborhood watch."

"And then you got taken." I looked at the ground, the guilt swelling in me again. 

Claire was quick to grab my hand and squeeze. "And now I'm back, so let's use this time to get rid of him for good. We still need to talk, you and I." 

I nodded knowingly, but not quite reaching her gaze.

"Claire." Rasmodius spoke up, his face clouding with apprehension. "Do you think living here in Pelican Town is a good idea?"

I cock my head to the side. "What, you want her to move somewhere else? Where would she go?" Why would she leave when I can protect her here?

The wizard frowns. "I don't know. Anywhere that's safe. Pelican Town has offered nothing but danger."

"G doesn't just want his powers back," Claire said softly, turning to her farm. Her cows were tucked in their enclosure, her chickens safe in their coop. There was no harvest this season. There may not be any harvest for a very long time. "There's something he wants from me, too, I can feel it." 

Dropping her shovel, she breathed in heavily. "I can't forget it. He called me 'his child'." 

"Why do you think he would do that?" Claire turned to Rasmodius and the omnispirits.

Rasmodius shakes his head. "It seems locating G's ectoplasm isn't as easy as we thought." 

"That's because it isn't here." A familiar voice says from behind us, and when we turn to see who it belongs to, I'm already scowling.

"Shane." I stare him down, the blood in my body begging to boil. 

He stands defiantly behind an oak tree, his dark, steely eyes glazing over me. In his hand, a knife glints under the silver moonlight. Taking a single step forward, the traitor of the town tells us everything we need to know in one silent exchange.

"Do you know where it is?" Rasmodius speaks up, moving toward the betrayer. I grab his arm, forcing him to come to an abrupt stop.

Shane wears a defeated frown, his eyebrows twisting into a knot on his face. He takes another step closer to us.

"I couldn't tell you." He says looking directly at me, his voice sounding gravelly and hoarse. Something's wrong... he doesn't look good.

"Tell me what?" I extend my arm out in front of Claire, protecting her just in case things get hairy.

"At the Tower." He yelps out in pain, collapsing on one knee, his palms pushing into the dirt. 

I squint. "Why did you betray us? Claire deserves to know!"

Another scream erupts from him. "My power. Knowing when G was nearby. I couldn't tell you!"

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?" Claire finds my hand and tightens her grip, pulling me back slightly. 

I turn to her. "Let me do this!"

"There's nothing to do!" Claire responds with fervor, tugging on me even harder.

"Claire--" Shane's voice echoes throughout the trees, and Rasmodius steps into place in front of her. I let go of her hand.

"There's something you need to know." The traitor continues and coughs out his words, likely choking on his betrayal.

"Let him speak." Zalmiszar says from behind me. 

The air around us decreases in temperature, and I'm willing to bet the situation from here on out will chill me to the bone.

Shane lifts himself up from the ground and with one raised finger, points directly at Claire.

As if acting on command, I slide to the left as Rasmodius slides to the right, widening the gap and allowing Shane visible access to her.

"He's... he's in me." He croaks out, as if the words were reluctant to come out of his mouth. And he? Who is the 'he' Shane is talking about? 

Suddenly, Claire materializes next to me, her face full of worry. "Think of Jas, Shane! Now!"

It clicks into place now. The 'he' is Gareth!

"Think of Marnie, and your chickens!" Claire continues, taking a step closer to him. I let her.

Wrestling with what's inside him, Shane grunts, his eyes shutting in pain and agony. 

But he does it. I can see the pain and agony slowly disappearing. His thoughts, which were undoubtedly filled with memories of his childhood, Marnie, and his little sister Jas, were helping!

"It's not working!" He shouts, his arms thrashing around his head.

"Yes, it is!" I respond, finding my voice. "Keep thinking of them! He can't find you here if your thoughts are somewhere better!"

Rasmodius turns to me and nods his head, his lips curling up into a smile.

After seconds of more pain, the thrashing stops. Shane collapes on the floor.

We run to his side, me running first and Claire and Rasmodius following after. My knees hit the wet dirt, but my still-dry hands caress his back. "You survived!"

The soft breathing sounds coming from him placate the vibrating tension that still lingers in the air. 

"You have it." Shane says breathily, lifting his head and looking straight at Claire again. 

She shakes her head and I'm just as confused.

But it's when Rasmodius inhales quickly that I begin to realize.

"What, Shane? What are you talking about?" Claire asks desperately, gripping his shoulders. A frown appears on his face.

He gulps, and the wind knocks out of my lungs right as he opens his mouth to speak again.

"His ectoplasm. You've had it all along."

Chapter 49: Invisible String

 

 

 

Standing in front of Shane, Claire blinked. She didn't know if she heard him correctly.

Maybe she didn't hear him at all?

Surely Gareth had taken her again, plunging her back into that dark grave.

"I... have it?" She searched Shane's face for clues, for anything that could point her toward the truth. 

She covered her body with her hands, her fingers dancing fervently across any pockets she may have had. "Where, Shane? Where is it!"

"It's inside you, Claire. Haven't you figured it out yet? You were the essence all along—you are the ectoplasm—the invisible string tying us all together!" 

"That doesn't make any sense, Shane, you're not making sense." She's gawking at him now, her mouth agape and nearly touching the ground. "How can I be the ectoplasm?" 

When Shane's eyes travel past her and stop firmly on something else, she thinks this is it. He's gone mad and has now convinced her she was falling into madness again, just as fast.

"Leah?" Her name escaped his mouth, and a seed of confusion has wedged itself in the center of Claire's throat, taking ownership of her nervous system. 

She turns to her in desperation. I'm tired, she thinks. So tired.

"Leah has something she needs to tell you." Shane said, his body heat suddenly enveloping Claire like a warm hug. Except there was nothing warm about this situation, and her spirit has diminished even more. 

"There's more?" She faced Leah head on, any last bit of hope slipping away from her. Please let it be that there’s an escape from all of this, that there is no way Gareth can hurt us anymore. 

But she doesn’t tell her any of that. 

In fact, no one said anything.

In the heat of it all, Magnus and the omnispirits begin to move towards the farmhouse.

"It's true," Leah said, gaining Claire's attention again, albeit minimally. 

"Remember when we were young?" She started, and Claire's jaw tensed. Not this, please, not this. Not now.

"How could I forget." Her eyes are trained on Magnus as she uttered the words to her. Leah was speaking to her but she was watching Magnus shout angrily at Zalmiszar, his arms flailing wildly about in front of him.

The omnispirits did not bare any emotion.

"Are you hearing me, Claire?" Leah asked.

Do you remember your way back?

—is what she had asked her, all those years ago.

While the sun was setting behind her, the sky's pinky hues closing out another day, Claire remembered Leah peering into her. With those infallible, indigo eyes, that day started like any other but ended so terrifically, her eyes would mark the beginning of disaster.

Claire had nodded, but truthfully, she didn't know her west from her east. She didn't know what direction the wind was blowing in or if the rain was about to come in—that was a superpower some people miraculously had—and she certainly hadn't the faintest idea of where her family was. 

She also remembered feeling tears welling up in her eyes at that thought. The sun setting and her bare shoulders getting covered in goosebumps, the chill of the sudden dusk turning her little limbs into jelly.

Leah had reached out for her, her cold hand resting on her shoulder, making her warm. 

It's okay, she reassured. We'll find them.

Then they did. 

Staring down at the jagged rocks from the hilltop, and being the first to witness her father's last moments alive, Claire cursed the deathbed where he laid.

Next, she cursed Leah, twisting her entire body around to face the copper haired girl, only to find that she was no longer there. 

Having left her and her dying father all alone. Her father, who was full of holes and struggling to breathe, pleaded with—begged—Claire to close her eyes with what little life he had left. With what little breath he had in his lungs.

Now Claire couldn't face her. 

Inhaling, she thought of a particular omnispirit. She thought of him, his wrath, and the rage he'd likely felt since the day he was exploited and taken from. Betrayed.

Though it was almost sunup, the sky brightening subtly, it had also started to morph into something else. A familiar fog began to loom overhead.

I can't face her at all, she ruminated, turning to look at Shane instead. He'd been manipulated by Gareth. And so have I.

"It's my own ectoplasm, isn't it?" She confirmed with him, noting the tight-lipped frown he'd given her in response.

"All this time," she started with a curt laugh, twisting back around. Both Magnus and the omnispirits now had their eyes on Claire. "Something wasn't clicking."

"Something wasn't making sense." She tugged at her chest, the heart beating wildly behind her flesh increasing in speed. The fog over the farmland thickened, and Claire watched as Magnus started to shout at the omnispirits again, the words unintelligible but the boom of his voice reaching her ears.

"Claire?" Leah started to worry, her eyes turning up in concern.

But the woman ignored her. Ignored the one who'd left her and her father to die. Ignored the one who'd known the way back all along, but selfishly kept Claire to herself.

"There was a gap in time after my father died, after I watched him take his last breath." Claire gripped the collar of her shirt. "A time that I cannot recall."

From beside her, Shane nodded, as though knowing where this was leading to. Beside him, Leah's face turned grey.

"I chalked it up to trauma. Pain that glued itself to me and couldn't heal me, not even my memory." The fog circled them from above, and Claire watched as Magnus and the omnispirits grew closer.

Zalmiszar eyed her cautiously. 

With a snarl, Claire pointed in the elder's direction. "You were there, weren't you, Z?"

Leah whirled at her, her face quizical and full of worry. "How do you know?"

"Because," Zalmiszar started, stopping in front of Claire.

Magnus's head drops in shame as the elder omnispirit continues. "I was indeed there."

"Why? For what reason?" Claire pleaded, feeling Shane grip her arm. For support? For protection? It didn't matter, she was unraveling faster than quicksand and all she needed were answers.

"You had fallen to the ground," Zalmiszar said. "Losing consciousness, you dropped, and I watched it all from afar."

"In the hopes of reviving you, I brought you to my home." 

"Your lair?" Leah intervened, and the elder nodded solemnly. 

Claire felt her lungs give out. The drop where she saw her father last…

Was just miles from here?

"It was no easy task," Zalmiszar proceeded. "Your heart could not take being alive. It tried beyond its nature to keep from enkindling."

"I was there?" Claire wrestled with the thought, attempting to grasp the fact that he had stayed close to her all these years. That he was there since the beginning.

Her eyebrows crinkled, a thought occurring to her.

"But I awoke in the forest." She tensed, her fists closing at her sides. "So you left me there to die, too?" 

But the omnispirit shook his head, a tender look washing over his face. "I did not abandon you, Claire. I returned you to where your heart needed to be—in the forest, with your father."

"More importantly," he told her, and her ears grew hot from unbridled emotion.

Then, after a long-winded exhale:

"It was your power that you gained."

Shock covered the entirety of Leah's face. Shane nodded, dismayed but seemingly understanding of what Zalmiszar just said.

"My power?" Claire was just as confused and taken aback as Leah, her face contorting into agony. Looking over to the Wizard, she tried to get his attention. His head still hung low to the floor. "I've pressed you on this for years, Z, and suddenly now I'm getting an answer on it?"

"Wait!" Leah turned to her in exasperation. "You're saying you never knew your power?"

Then the woman with the braids turned to Shane. "Did you know her power?" The man shook his head.

Claire wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, and judging by Leah's flitting eyes, it seemed like neither did Leah.

"He's returned." Magnus said, using his voice for the first time since he'd walked over. 

"Then let me be frank, miss Claire." Zalmiszar stared down at her, his eyes taking on a much darker and colder color.

"You may have gained your power that day, but you have not used it."

"Why haven't you said anything, Z?" Claire pushed, a grey wind sweeping in between their bodies, a distinct howl filling their ears.

"I couldn't. It wouldn't have worked. Your power could only come forth from your memories, that which you have lost, up until now. Now that you need it."

"What even is it? What do I do?" She begged for help, but the wind was becoming stronger, and her fear bubbled up like lava from inside her.

Leah stole Claire’s hand. She was too weak to pull back.

It was Magnus that spoke this time, his eyes warm and caring for her, the lines on his forehead and cheeks taut across his aged skin. "You are one with the forest, Claire."

He nodded at her with knowing eyes. "Reclaim your ectoplasm. Reclaim your home."

At that moment, the breeze intensified and lifted Claire up in the air as though she weighed nothing at all. Gareth was here again, ready to take what he believed to be his. 

Leah shouted from down below, and Magnus attempted an incantation, but Claire wasn't scared. Her heart beated a familiar rhythm in her chest; it drummed, brewed, and summoned an energy so impalpable, her veins overflowed with an electric current.

"I am one with the forest." She repeated to herself.

A ball of fog appeared directly in front of her, taking form and swaying mysteriously in the wind.

Gareth.

From across the farm, Claire noticed Harvey running towards the breeze. And not far behind was Emily, the wind tossing her sapphire hair to one side.

"They shouldn't be witnessing this!" She cried in sorrow, being curtly reminded of Abigail and her junimos, likely staring up at her in fear. 

"Stinky!" Claire cried, the current burning even more from within her.

"Smelly?" She glanced at her hands, her arms, and how they glowed iridescent. 

Though she had called upon Gareth, she had also channeled and tapped into what made her resilient.

Her simultaneous love and fear seemed to be making her stronger.

Taking the reins of her newfound strength, Claire breathed in as Gareth grew larger in the sky. As she began to fly, her junimos squeaked wildly from below.

The sky exploded in shades of pink and blue, and Gareth howled something vicious, but it was her junimos that she thought of.

"I am one with the forest." She repeated to herself one last time before she charged for him.

Chapter 50: A Battle in the Forest

 

 

It was Gareth who cast the first spell.

But instead of it hitting Claire, arm-like winds rose above what she believed to be his head, raining the conjuration all over himself instead. There was no damage taken to either of them, but to avoid its potential effects, Claire stopped halfway in the sky just in case. Staring him down as the prismatic shower enveloped him, she watched in horror as his body took shape in the awakening blue. His earthly body.

Gareth's skin was calloused and bruised; dark purple circles had been burned onto the length of his torso and the top of his back. Wounds that never healed properly layered his arms, the scars a testament, most likely, to his brutal destruction from way back when. 

Though his hair gleamed similarly to Zalmiszar's, the cut was rough and choppy. Not as long, but still very much snow white and gossamer.
Then, there were his eyes; a shade that contradicted and differed in comparison to his hair; it was as dark as night. Wrath and fury intertwined with the rest of his body in one common goal:

The destruction and taking of Claire.

But Claire hummed just as determinedly, her junimos a source of strength. Down below, she heard them buzzing, a rhythmic song that only she could tune into. A melody that could help guide her in this paramount moment.

"Uncanny," Gareth seemed to have whispered into the clouds, his human voice finding Claire's ears but just barely. "Your mind was so loud."

"I imagine it is now much louder." He grinned maliciously.

"You infiltrated me!” Claire boomed at him, recoiling at the voice that had once been trapped inside her head. Trying everything not to look down at her companions and risk falling to Gareth all in one bridled moment, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to maintain eye contact.

"You took over me," she continued, crying out in anguish. "Forcing me to comply and bend to your sickness!"

Gareth erupted in profound laughter, causing the faraway mountain tops to crack, crumble, and break off into a million pieces. From behind him and down on the ground were Harvey and Emily, their fear-stricken faces glued to the scene up above.

"What? Can't look your father in the eyes?"

Though it was Gareth's mouth that uttered the next words, the icy tendrils of her father's voice rang clearly. The slow cadence of his voice, that of her father who was dead, caused her to freeze. The crystal-clear clarity both comforted and terrified every part of her.

"My sweet, sweet caro."

She felt herself slowly sink beneath the clouds.

"This is what he wants!" Leah yelled from just meters below, and though Claire had ruminated this possibility, the pain was all too much to bear. Soon, she'd find the strength to continue—to fight on for Pelican Town and the people she'd grown to love. To take her spiritual connection with the forest and use it to abolish and eradicate every last inch of the monster who'd been terrorizing her and the whole town.

But for now, she was with her father. Her father was where she needed to be.

 

 

Leah

 

 

Claire floats in the sky. I'm watching her body lay dormant, as though she's not really flying but being held by some unknown force. As though she's frozen, every limb encased in ice, her very core frigid from what Gareth said to her.

"Caro." I repeat, the word falling clumsily out of my mouth. 

"This doesn't feel right." Rasmodius utters it from beside me.

"Of course this doesn't!" I hurled at him. "We need to do something!"

Then I spot Harvey and Emily from across the open field. I wave to them, but they don't seem to notice me; their gaze is fixated on Claire and Gareth instead.

"No, no, no..." The Wizard rambles, but I don’t have the wherewithal to hear what he could be so concerned about. 

From behind, under the hush of his own voice, Cimoryn makes an accusation so sour I feel it hit the back of my throat. I'm not sure how they do it, but my hands locate his ashen throat and wring it.

The Wizard's hands are already on me, pulling me back. I protest my anger, thrashing about and yelling obscenities, but he's stronger than me and succeeds in pulling me back.

Defeated in every sense of the word, I find myself looking up at her—my source of comfort and contrition—and crying out for her. 

A meter away, Gareth lingers. He has not budged from his spot in the sky.

This is odd...

Zalmiszar lifts his face, a knowing frown appearing. "All that time," he starts, breaking the tension. Or perhaps adding to it.

We all turn to face him, keenly taking notice of his unease. And that makes me think of every thought I shouldn't have.
You're losing her, you're losing her, you're losing her, you're a loser—you lose.

"He has her right where he wants her now."

"Away from us.” Rasmodius completes, dropping the bomb he'd been holding. The one from before that I’d been too ignorant to notice.

"Do you think he’s done this? Froze her so she can't move? Can any of you use your magic?" I beg everyone, angry at what I have. Angry at my useless power.

Turning back to look up at Claire, I collapse to the floor at the sight of her. 

But no one says anything. No one says a damn thing.

Except for the junimos, who, until recently, had kept quiet. Now they were ablaze with sound, their spherical faces lighting up at Claire.

Had they seen something? Were they responding to a sound that I could not, for some otherworldly reason, pick up on?

"What is it?" I crouch low to the ground, offering them my shaky hand.

When neither of them pays me any attention, I hold my breath and run.

Ignoring the warning cries from Rasmodius, I bolt straight to the town’s doctor and bartender. As I'm running, I hear Abigail and the junimos behind me, their labored breath and excited squeaks reaching my ears. Abigail isn't like the rest; she's quick to action.

Just like me.

I huff through strained lungs, nearing a patch of mud that Harvey and Emily are standing behind. 

"What is this, Leah?" Emily hops over the puddle and grapples onto my shoulder, stabilizing herself. Her eyes are trained on Claire and Gareth in the sky.

"She's in danger—.“ I start, but Emily cuts me off.

"What can we do?" She asks, squeezing my arm. 

The forest's critters seem to sense the approaching threat as the once-vibrant and cheerful bird song suddenly cuts quiet. Now an impressive ally, the wind whips through the trees, bringing with it the smell of steel. Sweat. 

Just then, Gareth cackles ominously, his physical body beginning to close the gap between him and Claire.

I stare across the way at the Wizard. He's staring back with burning anger.

But he's not doing anything.

"Is that her?" A frail voice asks from behind me.

I whirl around and notice Evelyn padding closer to us.

"You shouldn't be here!" I plead, but instinctively find myself looking back up to the sky for the umpteenth time. Gareth almost has her.

I try to wish him away. I think hard, very, very hard on my thoughts, to banish him. You can't touch her, you can't touch her, go away, go away, go away!

Looking around, everyone is struck with fear. They are thinking of him, and only him. Of course he's still here!

"Don't think of him!" I scream loudly, but no one seems to hear me.

I focus hard, imagining a portal, an open door in the sky—anything to submerge Claire into safety.

But then the older woman does something that plunges me, and everyone else, into astonishment.

Evelyn begins to levitate, her once fragile frame now as solid as a statue, her veiny fingers lifting up toward the sky—towards them.

After a moment that feels like a century, the scenery unfolds:

Evelyn hovers above us all, her limbs resting listlessly near her sides as though they are elastic. Like they are made of cobweb threads—deceivingly spindly but likely indestructible.

"Should we stop her?" Harvey asks under his breath.

"How would we?" Emily responds, her honey-like voice now coming out clipped and terse. 

The first clash begins like a whisper.

Though sudden, it happens almost in slow motion, and we watch like the helpless audience that we are, peeling back in fear as Gareth sends an arcane wave—a tornado—of energy towards Evelyn.

Bronze tendrils of what I can only imagine as spectral fire flies across the blushing firmament, the heavens thundering at its emergence.

The elder woman utters softly to herself, as if reciting an archaic prayer, drawing from a well within her. Creating elaborate patterns in the air, her fingers, which were golden and pulsating, began to dance.

A silvery shield bubbles up in front of her, and the bolt of energy Gareth had cast crashes into it. I expect it to bounce off and fall like splinters, and gasp when the shield absorbs it.

Sensing an unexpected shift, Gareth wears shock like a second skin, fear etching into his hollow cheeks and ridding him of any prior self-assurance. He wasn't expecting this.

Neither were we.

"The maternal guardian appears yet again." Gareth taunts, almost seething, his skin reddening. What does he mean again?

The sky begins to change color, but not because daylight is here. Gareth is angry and appears to have control over the winds and the sun. The mountains. Everything.

And the Wizard and the Omnispirits continue to do nothing. 

"She needs help." Abigail says in my ear, and I grit my teeth.

"Yes, but she's unconscious!" I tell her, the helplessness sinking into my skin.

"No, not Claire!" Abigail grips my arm and spins me around.

Her eyes have lightened, a new expression—hope?—washing over her youthful face.

"Evelyn! She needs the junimos!"

I stare at her in confusion. Why them?

"Think about it!" She turns and drops to the ground, wrapping her arms around the green and purple junimos. When she straightens, she proceeds to raise her arms to the sky, the mystical faces shining from the emphasized light of the sun.

"Evelyn!" Abigail shouts, but the woman stays put as though she didn't hear her. 

The junimos start to fly unexpectedly and glide up toward Evelyn. We gasp in unison as their bright and concerned faces search for something, whipping right and left, back and forth. No, not something.

Claire.

Banded together, the trio glows and hums in the illuminated open air, their combined ire spreading like a wildfire. Their target: Gareth.

As if sensing what was coming, the tarnished man brews something maroon at the center of his stomach, his curled fingers sheathing the ever-growing orb of whatever he was preparing to send their way.

But prepared for his wrath, Stinky and Smelly collide into one another, and my eyes widen as I watch the two become one. Spinning at the speed of near lightning, shades of deep indigo and forest green swirl together into one giant spherical body, a magnetic sheen cascading over Evelyn as they reach higher ground. 

Instead of targeting Evelyn, which was the initial assumed course of action, we stare wide-eyed in terror as Gareth's second spell casts straight for the junimos, an electric current zipping through the air like a fire-fueled jet.

We close our eyes, unable to witness destruction. Unable to face the reality of this battle in the forest. 

The current connects and creates a catastrophic blast, with pressure waves shooting out at us. Like an underwater bomb, bubbles of hot gas shower overhead. I plummet to the ground, bodies dropping and layering on top of me, the weight of them suffocating me.

I open my eyes, expecting death and carnage. I open my eyes and prepare to shut them again, fearing this town's hecatomb and literal end. 

My eyes open, and I nearly go blind from the sheer white that blankets our surroundings.

I cannot see the junimos in the sky. I cannot see Evelyn, Gareth, or Claire.

Beside me, the purple and blue of my newfound friend's hair are covered in crystallized-like sand. They are alive, their eyes red and strained from the terror above, but alive nonetheless. 

I place my hands on my own head, retracting them, and notice the same gritty sand.

Bringing it up to my face, I release the cry in my lungs. Coconut sorbet and burnt gun powder fill my nose.

 

 

Claire

 

 

Chirps from an Italian sparrow surround her. Despite the pure white that she's encased in, she sighs in relief. She's back home again.

But she's not alone.

"Caro." He says, his voice everywhere, surrounding her like the birds' call, both their melodies making a familiar song.

"Non è il tuo momento." It is not your time.

"Why is this happening, Papà!" Claire cries out, searching for him.

"Sei in guerra." You're at war.

"But I'm lost! I'm scared! I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Hai tutto ciò di cui hai bisogno." You have everything you need.

"Why did you have to die?"

"Non me ne sono andato." I'm not gone.

And then immediately after:

"Sono qui." I'm here.

All went quiet.

Despite his departure, the warmth that had flooded her just previously remained, her limbs vibrating with an energy like no other. 

She closed her eyes, accepting the vitality of her father and allowing it to absorb her.

Like ivy, it spread across the entirety of her body, weaving around her tired bones and bringing forth life. 

When she opened her eyes, the blinding white light took her by the throat, but she held tightly onto her father's voice, his words still repeating in her mind.

Then the light evaporated around her, the once heaven-like void transitioning into the familiar scene she had left just moments ago. 

It was then that Claire noticed Gareth's back, his scars coming into view and glinting at her like a sun-shined mirror. 

Everything was bright, and the smell that lingered in the sky was familiar. It was violent and vile, and she could have sworn she smelled smoke.

At the ground, Claire spotted them:

Emily, with her trypan blue hair and big, fearful eyes.

Abigail, the brave-hearted girl with an even colder front, checked on nearby bodies for pulses. 

Harvey lay still behind the two, the familiar tie sticking out from underneath. 

Claire called out to them, but they didn't hear her. She waved at them, but their eyes never found hers.

Then her eyes took her over to Leah.

Crouched in front of Harvey, her braids were now undone, the waves in her hair like ripples in a disturbed lake. It slicked down her pallid shoulders, the sweat she'd been exuding like glue. Amidst it all, something else glinted in her hair.

Whatever it was, it was on everyone else, too.

All caked with some unidentifiable ash, they were disordered by the destruction around them, fighting the muck in their tainted throats.

A soft and seasoned hand rested gently on Claire's shoulder, and she knew it was Evelyn's. 

"I knew I'd find you here." Evelyn's voice tickled her ear. It carried through the trees, wrapped around the branches, and found solace within the trunks; the forest accepted her as one of its own. It always had.

"We are under attack, Nonna." Claire announced, though it was not necessary to do so. She must know, Claire thought to herself.

She began to turn her head, but Evelyn stopped her, gesturing to Gareth. 

"He and I go way back," Evelyn started, and Claire furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"He wasn't expecting me." Said the old woman. Claire could hear the sinister smile in her words. 

"Nonna?" Claire tried turning again, but found that Evelyn was no longer behind her.

Instead, she'd resurfaced in front of Gareth, and in the time it took him to realize she'd reappeared, it was too late.

Showering shards of prismatic energy over the top of his head, Evelyn released an unearthly, disembodied, and macabre cry. The rock fragments reverberated on the ground, conjoining and finding their place back on top of the mountains again. The supernatural condensation evaporated, and numerous surprised gasps were heard from below, the people being overtaken by sheer magic.

They'd been infiltrated by it this entire time, though it was different now. 

This time, it was good magic. Alchemy that produced good things.

But Evelyn's power was not enough. Claire knew this. The Wizard and the Omnispirits down below must have known this too. 

Evelyn needed every set of hands, despite the great sorcery she had already yielded.

Beyond the prismatic energy, Claire spotted them.

Round and large as can be, Stinky and Smelly squeaked at the sight of their old savior. Their endearing eyes held strong emotion, and their size did not nearly encompass the weight of their affection for Claire. 

"You're here too!" She cried out, thankful for their presence.

Turning around, Claire stared down at where she last saw Magnus, Z and the other Omnispirit, C.

They were nowhere to be found.

"Looking for us?" Shouted a familiar voice, and Claire smiled before she even saw him.

Above her was Magnus the Wizard, his fingers vibrating with passive energy. A similar prismatic sheen bubbled from within him, growing as the seconds passed.

"What took you so long?" She asked, the feeling of betrayal burning inside her. 

"Gareth has his roots in us all." Was all that Magnus responded, his face broken but hopeful.

Appearing on either side of him were Z and C, their hesitant but stoic presence unwavering and dauntless.

"Gareth might have dominion, but his strength is only as thunderous as his support." Z uttered, drawing closer. "Which he has none."

Claire looked around her, her eyes traveling far across the trees and settling on her neighbors from down below. Their belief in her was stronger than any kind of grip Gareth had on them, and it was time to take advantage of it.

United not by blood but by unanimous goal, Claire, Magnus, and the Omnispirits charged for Gareth.

As Claire flew through the sky, she instinctively looked down to where Leah was, the woman's ashen hair now pulled into a low hanging bun. From below, Leah looked up at Claire, fear shining in her indigo eyes.

Then Claire smiled softly.

 

 

Leah

 

 

Claire smiles at me. It's small and hesitant, but it's a smile nonetheless.

It fills me with astounding hope, and though I have no way of reaching her, I pretend again that there's a portal in the atmosphere. I do everything in my power not to think of him but to focus on the world I want to live in.

The trees are everfull and blossoming, the pink and red hues from autumns' past bringing in more color than anything I've ever seen before. 

The grass is tall and soft to the touch, with bees and ladybugs finding their home in the nooks and crannies of the Fairy Roses.

Wine pours from every grape, and every grape is as sweet as molasses. 

And Claire is there, too, with her curly hair, chocolate brown eyes, and aquiline nose. Even if she hates me forever, she will always be there in my world. In our world.

Gareth would be banished, exiled, or deceased.

I gasp, the vibration in my stomach increasing. 

A miniscule hole begins to expand beyond the battle.

Emily grips my shoulder, and Abigail tugs on my shirt.

"Are you doing that?" Abigail cries in astonishment, her eyes glued to the opening.

"Leah, you're incredible!" Emily proclaims, her grip on my shoulder strengthening. 

Soon enough, everyone from town has gathered at Claire's farm, watching in equal amounts of fear, awe, and uncertainty. 

Marnie and Jas, huddled up at the southmost treeline next to the dirt path, scream for Shane, who is several yards away and has not noticed them yet.

From up north, Robin, Demetrius, and Maru stare up at the atrocity. In a quick effort, Demetrius shoves his wife and child away from the rogue clusters of energy that penetrate the soil beside them.

Sebastian is nowhere to be seen.

Around every bend and curve, familiar faces emerge, unable to take their eyes away from the ethereal fray.

Looming at the entrance to the farm, where the grass meets the dirt-paved road, Mayor Lewis cowers in fear.

"Leah, it's getting bigger!" Abigail shouts, and I whirl around to see it—to witness my power.

Five times its original size, the hole was now a chasm, the edges rippling further into the sky, enveloping the great blue and swallowing it whole. 

"Push him in!" Screams Rasmodius, who is directly below a burning Gareth.

"Push him in!" I repeat, and so do my friends and neighbors.

"Push him in! Push him in! Push him in!" We shout in unison, our voices resounding and whole. 

In one last effort, Claire and the junimos, Rasmodius, and the Omnispirits drag Gareth closer toward the void.

While his limbs are pulled back, in one last effort to break free, the malevolent Omnispirit roars his rage, his breath boiling and puncturing.

And in the path of his inferno were the junimos.

Having been returned to their original size just moments ago, the green and purple blobs were no longer colossal or commanding. 

In half a wink, Gareth's firestorm of a cry rips through like the wind, and the fiery ribbons of his relentless fury slice into them. 

The combustion ensues over a period of mere seconds; their remains are no more than dust, indistinguishable among the clouds.

Still.

So still are we.

Frozen in our trepidation, our limbs not moving, and our hearts in comatose, we do nothing but watch in disbelief.

A lachrymose wail pierces the forest, bringing us all to our knees.

Claire's shrill transforms into moans of agony; the death of her junimos so casual and irreverent. 

At once, Claire uses her sorrow for revenge, moving at incredible speed and aiming straight for Gareth.

"The hole, Leah! The hole!" Harvey shouts from behind, but I notice it too late.

Mouth agape, I hyperventilate. In my unbridled rage, I had no control; I was angry, and Gareth killed my friends!

The hole was too big!

Now the size of a small planet, the cavity was dangerously close to my friends in the sky. 

"Push him in!" I repeat the mantra, starting another round of the warcry.

From down below, we feast our eyes on the destruction of Gareth.

Zalmiszar reaches into the Omnispirit's mouth, the brother he'd once known Gareth to be, and rips out his tongue.

Rasmodius peels back both his arms, twisting them around one another like a deformed pretzel.

Cimoryn enacts the same retribution, but for his feet, curling back each one of his toes and rendering him immobile.

Claire watches it all with us, floating directly in front of the butchery, her tears full as they drop. 

Drop from her calloused cheeks and down to us.

We catch them with our open palms and continue to cry out:

"Push him in!

Push him in!

Push him in!"

Then Rasmodius nods at Claire.

There is no last speech. There is no time to say goodbye or verbally mark and announce his end.

Claire pierces the sky with her anguish and bulldozes through the air, crashing into Gareth all at once.

Pushing her hands up in front of her, she plunges him into the dark abyss.

Rasmodius takes hold of her arm before she, too, passes into the large pit of nothingness. 

I collapse to the floor, the grass tickling my face.

I think of Claire and Claire only.

I think long and hard, hard and angry, peace and relief. 

I think of the junimos and close the chasm.

Chapter 51: Aftermath

 

 

 

When she was ten years old, Claire woke one morning to vomit all over her pillow.

Digging a finger into her back until she was standing in the bathroom, Claire's mother pointed out all the flaws and misshapes. The tired face in the mirror sent Claire down a long winding headache of this-is-how-you-do's and don't-do's. 

"See this here?" Her mother grabbed at taut skin, scrutinizing eyes pouring into her daughter's in the mirror. "This is what happens when you grow up."

Claire traced her thick eyebrows and hyper-focused on their arches, not without also taking in the bumps across her face and the bottle of Suprenza on the bathroom counter.

Ashamed of her imperfections, Claire sat on the toilet and watched in horror as a crimson trail began to stain the porcelain seat. 

"Your punishment." Her mother said so callously. 

My period. Claire didn't know the meaning of this word, nor did she grasp the connection between having one and the symptoms she'd been having the past month.

"Congratulations." Her mother twisted around until she was no longer in the bathroom, leaving her daughter to question herself for the umpteenth time. 

Now nearly twenty years later, enveloped by smoke, Claire woke to the smell of sulfur and wanted to vomit.

Nearly two decades later, her body ached just the same. Just like when she was younger, the pain vibrated through each limb. It nestled beneath her bones and reminded her of her fragility. Her mortality, as it were.

She surveyed the perimeter, taking in the destruction of her quaint little forest farm, and the events that took place in her once-sanctuary hit her hard. She was sore again.

Gareth.

His name echoed harshly, her thoughts taking her to when he'd entrapped her. 

The relief came just as quick, and she relished in the triumph she'd experienced when she pushed him into the void, casting him out of Pelican Town forever. 

But a lachrymose wail pierced her memory, one of her own, but she couldn't relive it. It was there, scratching at her, begging to be released. To be felt.

She didn't have it in her. Not yet.

Embers of fires past still hummed in groups across the scorched earth, just waiting for life to be blown into them again. 

Spinning around, it was evident to Claire that she was alone. The bodies, both breathing and not, that had once dented the grass were no longer there. 

My family. She forced the lump in her throat to decrease in size, but only felt it enlargen instead. I must find them.

Away she went, her bare feet carrying her toward the westward path; toward the Town.

Treading along the path and avoiding the icy patches that Spring couldn't warm up, the destruction got to Claire. The trees she'd passed before and allowed to tickle the palms of her hands were now in pieces, the broken branches and half-green leaves littering the road adjacent to her. Pam's bus sat idle, the tire marks on the pavement still noticeable despite her crash from years ago. 

Carrying in the voices of the villagers, the stark wind was an aid to Claire.

Stepping into a nearby bush, she took advantage of the thick bramble and listened.

"—been betrayed!"

"There has to be a reason for this."

"Perhaps he'll enlighten us!"

Squinting, Claire just barely made out the blurry figures of Pam, Harvey, and the Mayor at the Town center. 

Caught in the middle of the lively conversation, a blushing Harvey appeared apprehensive.

Claire took a step forward.

"He better," Pam insisted, raising her arms and cutting into the air with her fingers. "He's treating this election like it's a joke!"

Something tugged at Claire's arm. Gasping, she felt a hand clamp over her mouth, silencing her before she could alert the villagers.

Coming face to face with Emily, Claire softened.

Bringing her in and grasping at her for dear life, Emily squeezed her.

"I thought you were dead." Emily whispered, dragging her palm across her tear-stained face.

Unable to form any coherent words or sentences, Claire simply shook her head in disbelief. In awe at the events that just transpired. 

As if understanding, Emily offered a small, albeit warm, sympathetic smile. Delicate and sweet as swirling chocolate with a dash of carmel, her eyes bore into Claire's.

"What.. happened?"

"What didn't." Claire's voice came out rough, clipped. Gareth, Magnus, Z, C...

Stinky and Smelly, Claire rested on briefly. Her eyes shut in anguish, her heart still hesitant to feel.

Fighting the resilient anger that rose like bile in her throat, Claire allowed the silence to fill the gap. A soft look washed over Emily's face.

"Explain yourself, Harvey!"

The women crouched low to the ground as Pam boomed from beyond the path, her anger reaching the girls' bramble, rendering them immobile.

Pressed up against the clinic, Dr. Harvey looked between the two in front of him, his nerves increasing as the seconds ticked. 

"It appears I have been caught." He cleared his throat, swallowing crud and, likely shame, as well.

"It's not you, is it?" Pam inquired softly, her arms curling up underneath her chin in a protective manner. 

At once, a hand gripped Claire's collar, bringing her up forcibly. 

Turning, she stared in horror, as it wasn't Emily behind her like she so greatly assumed. With another hand flashing in front of her, Claire realized in quick succession that both of them were now incapacitated.

A voice spoke. Fluid, passionate, accusational. 

It was then that Claire recognized Marnie's voice behind her, and as she threw her head back, she made out the sour expression on the woman's face.

"Marnie?" 

"Move." Marnie pushed the girls in the direction of the center.

Skipping over herself, Claire fell flat onto the cobblestone, hearing her nose break in two or more places. Cradling it gently, she cried out in pain.

This alerted others who, from inside their homes, peeked out from their wooden doors, having just peeled out of their safe, warm beds. Fresh from the trauma they'd witnessed, but wholly and ignorantly unaware of the carnage that continued on in Town.

Whispering, they took turns engaging in hearsay, drinking in the drama that unfolded in the center as if it were not real; merely entertainment on a television that held no significance over their lives. 

"Claire?" Harvey spoke, severing the tension and simultaneously causing everyone to hush. 

It wasn't about Harvey and his unknown circumstance anymore.  The floor, and everyone's attention, was hers.

Gawking at Claire as though she was some mystical beast from a fantasy world, the villagers were speechless as they took her in. She was up in the sky moments ago, and now she was here down in the streets, her invisible wings splayed out for all to see.

From beside her, Emily nodded. Talk, Claire imagined her saying.

Blood dripped down to her lips, and Claire spoke.

Inhale.

"Hello." She squeaked, the word feeling not quite right on her tongue. 

She cleared her throat to start again.

"Hello," she repeated, gaining squinted eyes and pin drops. 

"I could tell you that what you'd just seen was a dream. A mirage or illusion of sorts. A scene from a TV show. An act of heroism that resulted in the day being saved."

"But I would be telling a lie." She swallowed.

Crouching beside the General Store and reamining undetected by everyone else, Shane stared on at Claire, his eyes dark. Wet.

Swallowing again, she willed away the dryness in her throat. "I wish I could say I had courage. But the truth is,"

"I am a coward." Her voice trembled, the image of her friends being eliminated to ashes flashing repeatedly in her mind. Unimaginable, irreversible agony.

"Any confidence I may have was only given to me by my friends. The ones who love me and see my potential. How?"

"How is it that we've casted out a man so evil and corrupt—a feat we should all be celebrating—and all I can ruminate on is loss?"

"It should have been me," Claire whispered so small and soft that only she could hear. 

Silence continued to perturbe the center.

But in the next second, the villagers started to blether, their loud clamoring echoing throughout Pelican Town.

Once Claire focused on the words that were being uttered, she felt a light switch flip off inside of her.

They were talking about Harevy.

"Did he really write his name on the ballot?"

"Could he be running against the Mayor?" 

"His back is against the wall--we've found the traitor!"

A crowd began to form around the doctor, bus-driver and Mayor, and as always, the town was much more absorbed with themselves than the bigger picture.

Taking a breath, Claire almost relished in their blindness. 

Emily took hold of her arm as if to say 'I see you', though kind of a gesture as it was, Claire stepped back. 

Then her eyes found Shane's, and she gulped, speechless but high off of her emotions. 

Turning, she ran off in the direction of the forest again.

It was time to find Leah.

Chapter 52: Revelation

 

 

 

She was there at the pier, looking out over the still water. Just as unstirring, she appeared neither calm nor tense. Her hair, which hung rigid down her back, shone just like the patches of fire that were smoldering quietly back at the farm. A single ray of light hit her exactly so, she could have been the sun.

Claire approached the pier hesitantly. Sweat tickled and teased the nape of her neck.

She stepped forward onto the docks; the boards creaked and gave her position away.

Motionless, Leah kept her back to Claire.

"There's a commotion in Town—"

"Did you know that if a Midnight Carp can't see daylight, it will assume it's still night out and continue swimming?" Leah interrupted.

It wasn't until now that Claire noticed what was consuming Leah's attention; down towards the water, right below where she was standing, a Midnight Carp lie dormant in a net of some sort. 

"Odd. He should have long migrated by now, too." Leah crouched until her knees hit the wood and dipped her arm into the water. 

Claire watched in silence as the woman hauled the decently sized fish out of the Lake, huffing. 

Setting him down, Leah struggled to rip the net apart, grunting as she pulled and pulled.

After many failed attempts, she whipped her head up in a panic. Wide eyed and desperate, she called out for Claire.

"Help me!"

Though her limbs took a second to respond, Claire skipped across the length of the pier and dropped herself beside Leah, grabbing one end of the net while Leah held tightly onto the other. The two pulled in opposite directions, groaning as the material sliced into their fingers.

Finally, they heard the satisfying snap of the net breaking apart, freeing the Midnight Carp at once.

"Oh, god," Leah murmured, quickly propping the fish up and analyzing him.

A quiet moment elapsed. 

"He's dead." She continued, softly. "He was moving."

"He was moving in the water." Leah shook her head. "I just thought—"

"It's okay, Leah." 

"No. It's not because I didn't get here soon enough to save him!" 

Claire scooted closer to the engorged fish and deflated. "It's likely been dead awhile. See the ulcers and cloudy pupils?" 

Leah shook her head frantically, tears springing and falling on top of the fish's head. "I just thought..."

"I know."

Transfixed, Leah was still, just as Claire found her moments prior. "I thought he was special."

"He is, Leah." Claire told her through gritted teeth, overcome with sudden agitation. He's dead. There's nothing you can do about it.

"I thought he'd made it to Spring, being the first of his kind!" Leah spat, the tears not stopping now, rolling like waves down her cheek until they fell into her mouth. 

"Dammit, Leah!" Claire lashed out, tossing the fish over the docks and hearing the dull thud as it made contact with the water. "You need to move on!"

"Your junimos are dead!" Leah cried out, plopping down in front of Claire and gripping her shirt. "Gareth destroyed them, obliterated them to dust, and you're telling me to move on?" 

Leah's fingers dug into Claire's neck, creating red indents and fresh bruises.

"Fuck. You." Leah spat.

Claire's jaw tensed.

"Fuck you!" Leah repeated, spit flying in every which direction.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU!" 

Leah crumbled and fell into a fetal position, just as rigid as before. Her smoke-laced hair covered her face, and the soft cries that came from her body annoyed Claire. 

"Pathetic." She turned around and started walking back to the farm. 

Claire had just passed the Big Tree when she felt hands on her back. Nails dug into her again, but this time, blood dripped from the cuts. 

Being twisted around, Claire gawked into Leah's cold, steely eyes.

"You're right." Claire swiped Leah's hands away from her. 

She took a step forward, feeling the icy mud splash out from beneath her as she did. "Stinky, Smelly, my father."

Claire gripped Leah's shoulders, reeling her in until both their noses touched.

Leah breathed heavily, her eyes still black as midnight. "And I was there for you."

"During each death, I was there!" Leah reclaimed autonomy and peeled herself away, rubbing at her shoulders. "But you pushed me away."

"Because it was your fault my father died!" Claire screamed, immediately noting the pain that crossed Leah's eyes. But she couldn't stop now. 

"Because of you," she dug her finger into Leah's chest, "my family had to look for me, and if you hadn't let me go—"

"You'd still have your dad." Leah exhaled. "But I didn't kill him, Claire."

Claire shook her head.

Leah took a step forward.

"Leah." Claire held the woman at arm's length, preventing her from getting any closer. 

"Let me be here for you this time." Leah took another step forward. "Just let me."

And then it was her hand, rising to Claire's cheek, ridding her of her tears. 

Claire seized up, feeling her body go stiff under her touch. 

"Leah." She breathed, unable to focus.

"Hi," Leah laughed, but it came out sounding more breathy than anything else. "It's me."

She nodded reassuringly, hope washing over her face. "Your friend."

It was then that Claire shook her head. "We're not friends."

Leah's face dropped in confusion, pain growing between her eyes. 

"We..." Claire faltered, refusing to look up. "We kissed."

"I don't know what that made us, but we are not friends."

"It's easy, you know," Leah started.

Claire raised her brow at this.

"That night at Jodi's house," she continued. "Your eyes on my neck as we walked up to the door." 

Claire gulped, but ignored her discomfort. Leah pushed on.

"The night at the pier!" She swung around, gesturing toward the docks. "I remember the moon lit up your face, and you drank the wine I made."

Memories of that night flashed vividly before her eyes.

But so did other memories.

"We met in the middle." Leah's voice itched in her brain.

"Right where the mud kissed the stream, and you invited me to your campsite."

"And if I just took you home—"

Claire shook her head again, her throat feeling tight and swollen.

"Maybe your dad would still be here, too."

At once, Claire fell backwards, the icy mush splashing all over her. "Fuck!"

"Fuck, fuck." She repeated, willing herself not to cry again.

But when Leah dropped to take hold of Claire's arms, Claire shooed her away.

"Leave me be." She instructed, exhaustion taking over. "I'm so tired."

"Me too." Leah echoed, falling into the mud beside Claire. 

Quiet blanketed the two, and the warmth of the mid-day sun cast down on them.

Claire sniffed.

Then she sniffed again, before her face soured. "God, we stink."

In an instant, Leah rolled into a ball of laughter. The shards of ice from underneath crunched as she shook. Claire stared in bemusement, her eyes slowly dropping at Leah's reddened cheeks.

"We've endured months of catastrophe, fighting off Gareth at every corner, with not much of a reaction." Leah threw her hair atop her head and secured it with a long strand. "But you catch a whiff of unwashed ass, and the look you give me?"

"I can't say I've ever seen that before!"

Leah recoiled once again in unbridled convulsions, her body vibrating gloriously. Tears fell as she cackled. 

"Unwashed ass," Claire repeated, scoffing. "I can't say I've ever heard that before."

A sullen look had quickly replaced. Claire quieted down as well, the reality of their lives silencing them both.

"We should have a funeral for them." Leah chewed on her lip, her face downcast and glued to the muck. 

Claire nodded, but remained wordless. 

Two pairs of incoming footsteps alerted the women, and with the turn of their heads, they saw familiar faces fast approaching.

"Oh my god, are you two alright?" Abigail crouched low to the ground, extending her arms so that they may take them. Shane was already lifting Leah up.

"You guys need to see this," Abigail started, her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "Dr. Harvey is the Town's traitor!" 

Claire and Shane shared a look.

"He is? How do you know?" sputtered Leah, attempting to brush off the mud that had already caked onto her clothes. 

With one gesture, the amethyst-haired woman ushered all of them to follow her.

Being the last to move, Shane slipped in silently behind everyone, keeping his gaze to the ground.

You can't get away that easily, Claire thought, and stepped into place next to him.

While Leah and Abigail were engaged in discourse, Claire and Shane were silent. Only the sound of their footsteps lingered between them.

It wasn't until they reached the farm that he spoke.

"I know you're upset with me."

Claire turned to look at him, slightly taken aback. 

"You've got every damn reason to."

"You were under Gareth's spell." Claire retorted, feeling Shane flinch from beside her. She smiled cautiously.

"He's gone," she told him, sensing his muscles relaxing. "We can say his name and think of him now. Trust me," she inhaled.

"I've been doing a lot of that."

"I won't try to relate, Claire," Shane responded. He was closer than before. "I was under his spell, but so were you. And on top of that?" He shook his head, lost in deep thought.

The cows and pigs were out and about, Claire noticed. During the battle, rogue bursts of fire or energy must've burned the fences down. 

"He killed your junimos."

Claire blinked rapidly, feeling the familiar sting behind her eyes. Don't, don't, DON'T. Not now. Please. I don't need another damn fucking reminder.

But her composure was solid. Breathing in deep, Claire's eyes flitted about the group.

Exhaling, she relaxed. She'd found placidity once again. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary.

But then Leah's head turned around, and her eyes found Claire's. A brief flash of concern passed between them.

Claire stopped walking.

As if noticing, Shane stopped as well. Then Abigail. Then Leah.

"Claire? What's wrong, are you okay?" Abigail reached for her hand, but retracted when Claire kept still, ignoring her completely. 

Merely feet apart, Claire and Leah gazed at one other. Their glances intertwined, a surge of energy passed through them both. Uncontainable intensity, and yet not a word uttered.

Shane and Abigail took turns gawking at each other, sharing a similar confused look.

But Claire didn't notice. Couldn't.

Absorbed, Claire counted the microscopic strands of hair that fell loosely around Leah's face. Fourteen of them, I count fourteen pieces of hair.

Then she traced Leah's shoulders and how they were drawn up towards her ears, almost as if trying to shield herself from the world. From Claire.

She feels scrutinized, Claire conceived, dropping her stare. "I'm sorry, let's continue." 

Trotting across her farm, Claire drew closer to the westward path, the soft texture of grass quickly transitioning to gravel and dirt. Voices from the Town center carried through the wind, alerting her to the nearby chaos.

Chaos she wasn't the slightest bit prepared for.

Then she neared the entrance to Town, and the voices grew louder.

"What does this mean for the Mayor?" someone asked.

"Will he kick him out?" another inquired.

"The election is in two days!" one cried.

Inhaling, Claire pushed her way through the crowd of villagers, ignoring their annoyed cries and grievances.

When she made it to the end, Claire stopped in front of the doctor himself. Red in the face and speechless, Dr. Harvey looked up from his seated position at Claire like a disobedient puppy. Timid and awaiting punishment, he cowered in fear.

The hearsay quieted, but Claire could make out the faint mumbling of someone nearby.

Lewis.

"Is it true?" She asked him, turning to face the Mayor who stood in front of the General Store. From beyond, milling just behind the Saloon, Pierre grunted in disapproval, his arms crossed over the other.

"Has Harvey betrayed you this entire time?" She zoned in on him, getting closer.

Wordlessly, Lewis held out his opened palm. And in it was a single ballot.

Retrieving it, Claire looked it over.

Scrawled in loopy lettering was Harvey's name.

"There's more where that came from." Lewis murmured, pointing at a steel box beside Harvey that Claire was just now seeing for the first time.

Maneuvering through the disgruntled crowd, Claire stopped in front of the box and proceeded to pick it up.

Opening it, her eyes darkened.

Several—if not a hundred—more ballots, all containing Harvey's name, filled the box to capacity.

Amazed and bewildered, Claire lifted her head and sighed. "Oh, Harvey...".

"You can't blame me!" The doctor lashed out unexpectedly, springing from his feet and gaining gasps from the villagers.

Grabbing the box from Claire, Harvey raised the box in the air and grimaced at everyone. The quiet had been disturbed, and the voices of the villagers increased in volume again. Anger, confusion, wrath, they spilled their saliva all at once, speaking in disorganized tongue.

"For years, Lewis has misused his power, abusing his title because of the greed in his heart!" Harvey confessed, his own spit flying from his enlarged mouth.

"Do you not recall the charity he hosted three years ago? Claiming every coin and bill would go to the construction of a new school for the young?" 

Parents in the audience quieted, and among them, Claire saw Penny in the crowd, one leg lifted off the ground. Her face bore mixed emotions, pain and confusion melding into one.

"It was I who sniffed out the end location of your donations!" In one quick fell swoop, Dr. Harvey threw his finger in the Mayor's direction. "Lewis's pockets!"

A collection of villagers choked on their wheezing, their gazes being redirected to the greying man huddled beside the Stardrop. The Mayor looked no one in the eye.

Harvey proceeded. "And what of the plans to construct wheelchair-accessible ramps across Pelican Town for the disabled?" He shook his head, disappointingly.

"Stolen, as well. Used for that monstrosity!" Another finger shot in a pitiful direction. Heads ducked and bodies shifted to avoid the wrath of Dr. Harvey's accusations.

Beyond his pointing, near the Mayor's home, a Solid Gold Lewis statue stood nearby, the afternoon light hitting it perfectly, it could have damn near been the entire sun.

The people of the Town gathered in groups of three or more, moving closer to Lewis in a sinister fashion, writhing in vengeful glee.

Slinking behind, Claire made her way back towards the dirt-trodden path stealthily. She heaved, oxygen not getting to her lungs fast enough. I need to get out of here!

She was about to reach the edge of the grass when a hand withdrew from the bushes and took hold of her wrist, forcing her into the bramble she'd found herself in not long ago.

Crash landing into dirt, detritus and something soft, Claire moaned at the impact. Amongst the chaos of her fall, she opened her eyes to ripples of indigo and lavender staring back at her.

"Leah," Claire uttered, breathless.

Without greeting her back, the woman leaped out of the bush, taking Claire with her.

A cry escaped Claire, Leah's sharp nails digging into her skin. 

But past the farm they went, running through hay bales and leaping over half-scorched fences. Leah took her across the way, until she halted abruptly, coming to a stop right where the trees met the open field. 

Collapsing to the ground, the women fell into each other, not on top. Merging as one, their fingers interlaced with hair and garment, fingertips brushing the sensitive patch of skin just below the chin. Tears welled up in Claire's eyes again, threatening to spill over. She shook her head, trying to hold them back. "We're not friends," she admitted, her voice trembling.

"We're not friends." Leah echoed, her red, swollen lips coming into contact with Claire's exposed neck.

Tossing her head back, Claire exhaled. With her throat tightening, she swallowed hard, attempting to push down the lump that had formed a long time ago. "We're not friends."

"We're not friends, Leah," she said above a whisper, instantly losing control of her tears, her eyes betraying her. "We're not, you idiot!"

Leah shh'd her reassuringly, her fingers dispersing throughout Claire's thick, curly hair. Traversing carefully, Leah combined both hands at the base of Claire's neck, guiding her to her own.
Resting beneath Leah's chin, Claire sobbed.

She sobbed and sobbed, and the mystifying déjà vu compressed itself in-between their warming bodies. 

The wails slowed, but the caressing did not. Leah provided in every step of Claire's breakdown. She made sure of that.

When she had cried her last cry, Claire released her breath, the hot air filling the immediate space. From underneath, Claire noticed the goosebumps that began to layer Leah's arms. 

Lifting her head, she stared. Eye-level and mouth, she breathed.

Leah's brows raised. A question.

No. Asking permission.

Claire shook. Her limbs vibrated. The back of her neck was icy hot.

Claire's eyes trailed down to Leah's neck.

Then she was nodding. She couldn't do anything else.

Her head rose, only to fall back down again, the motion repeating until Leah stilled her. Careful hands offered support, a calmness she hadn't encountered in far too long.

"What are we?" Leah asked, low and soft, almost in jest. The pink of her cheeks spread throughout her face until she took the form of a ripe, Summer tomato.

"Not friends." Claire answered confidently, staring hungrily down at Leah's lips.

Chapter 53: Reclamation

 

 

 

"I don't know what I'm doing." Claire muttered, gulping and skittering backwards. 

The corner of Leah's mouth tugged. "That's fine. I can know for the both of us." Her eyes dilated, her smile growing wider as if thinking inappropriate things.

"No," Claire shook her head vehemently. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

In seconds she was up off the ground, and the dirt enveloped both her feet. "I.."

"It feels wrong." Claire looked away. "To kiss you in the forest after all that's happened. All that's happening now."

It was Leah's turn to stand up. Taking hold of Claire's wrist, she shook it in desperation.

She shook it but didn't say anything. 

"I..." Claire started again, her cheeks reddening. "You mean something to me."

Leah smiled softly from behind.

"But I lost friends that meant something to me, too." Claire freed herself from Leah's grip. "Where did Abigail and Shane go? We should go back to the Town—see what's going on."

Walking off, Claire created distance between herself and Leah, skipping the farm altogether and taking the path that passed the cabin. She couldn't look at the debris and destruction at her farm another second.

Upon reaching the center, Claire found the pillar closest to her lingered behind it, realizing in dismay that she'd approached another form of destruction.

The villagers of Pelican Town had all but deserted the center, leaving nothing in their wake but a dejected Harvey in front of the clinic doors, and a defeated-looking Lewis, still huddled beneath the Saloon's awning.

Not spotting any of her friends, Claire entered the square.

Soon she stood in front of Harvey. Crossing her arms, she peered curiously at him. 

"Why'd you do it?" Her lips pursed.

"You couldn't understand my reasoning." Harvey huffed. "You worship the ground he walks on. Everyone does."

"That's not true," Claire chimed in, earning a raised brow from Harvey. "You saw them!"

"They cornered Lewis, they were loud and angry." She turned and looked at the mayor, his sad eyes glued to the cobblestone, his fingers twirling around shards of grass.

"You did that." Claire pointed at the defeat. "You revealed the ways in which he'd been abusing his power. He sacrificed the needs of the Town for himself."

Harvey nodded once, his forlorn demeanor softening as if being heard, finally. He reached out to her.

"I think people recognized what you did for them. I do." Claire smiled, accepting his hand in hers.

"You think they'll vote for me?" His brows raised in apprehension. Dr. Harvey seemed almost hesitant now, as though the person he was mere minutes ago was a facade, or a stunt double.

Claire smirked, and then her eyes fell to the ground. Bending over, she picked up a ballot with Harvey's name on it and presented it to him. "Here's your first vote."

Flooded with emotion, Harvey brought a hand up to his mouth. "Claire?"

"I'm saying I want you as our new mayor." She beamed excitedly, waving her ballot enthusiastically in the air. "And anyone who agrees with me should take one for themselves, too!"

Gesturing to the ballots scattered across the cobble, Claire hummed, taking in the gleeful expression of the doctor.

One by one, the people of Pelican Town drew closer to the scene, following after Claire by picking ballots off the ground and tossing them into the steel box next to Harvey's feet.

Claire watched from afar as Lewis lifted himself up and trudged indignantly into his house.

"Claire," Harvey uttered from behind her. "You have my warmest thanks."

Turning, she forced him into an embrace. "You did it."

Harvey released his relief, sighing into her. "Not without your confidence in me." 

Claire smiled up at him as they broke apart, watching in pride as Harvey shuffled over to the full box of ballots and picked it up.

"I guess this means we don't need to hold an official election." He said, looking down at the box with a frown. "I was really looking forward to one."

Claire raised a brow, and the corners of her mouth turned upwards.

"Maybe not," she started with a sly grin, "but we can host a celebration."

The doctor eyed her suspiciously. 

"Just leave it to me." She nodded, the smirk still plastered on her face. 

 

 

 

A Few Days Later

 

 

 

The light flooded into the room, a slim sliver of sun warming the scarves on the floor right in front of the bed.

Claire stirred from her sleep, a pang of sadness stinging her core. Stinky and Smelly visited her in her dream last night, their innocent faces smiling up at her. But just as quickly, they were swallowed up by the sun, their ashes falling into a harrowing void.

Turning ever so slightly, her eyes rested on the calendar on the wall beside her. Spring 11, it read, encircled in bright red ink. 

Shedding herself from the nightmare, Claire jolted out of bed and stood in front of the mirror. A white button down and khaki pants were waiting for her on the ottoman beside it, and hope returned to her body.

After dressing herself, she moved for the door but stopped in front of the scarves.

Their bed. Claire gulped and stepped over them, making sure to avoid looking at them, and exited the room.

At the fridge, she pulled at the door and frowned at the bare shelves. She hadn't had an appetite until just now, she realized, and yet the only thing available to eat was cheese, but that looked questionable at best. Mold wasn't uncommon, but the ricotta had seen better days.

I know who wouldn't mind the cheese, Claire smiled, grabbing the container and swiveling to her left, only to stare back at an empty kitchen.

There were no tippy-taps coming from the living room, no squeaking or groveling for her attention.

Wordlessly, Claire tossed the ricotta into the trash and felt her jaw tense.

Twisting her ring around her forefinger, she stomped into the hallway until she reached the front door, throwing it open, only to find herself stepping into a pile of manure.

It took a second for her to realize what'd happened, shuddering in conflicted emotion as she settled on the broken fences in the distance. With no security, her barn and coop animals roamed freely about the farm.

Feeling the tightness in her throat first, she nearly came apart as the anger spread to her knees. But fighting the rage she was keenly aware of, she brisked past the cow dung and flew down the steps.

The coop door was wide open when she approached the enclosure, and Claire braved the inside, expecting to come face to face with the worst. 

Floorboards creaked beneath her, the sound of decay itching at her ears. Because of course I need a new coop, she thought angrily to herself.

Dazed, Claire blinked at the nest in front of her.

Three eggs were nestled close together, untouched; a beautiful, beautiful sight.

Creak.

Spinning around, Claire gawked at Leah who stood awkwardly in the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey."

Claire gestured toward the eggs behind her. "I could cry."

"What happened?" a concerned Leah took a step forward, and then another, closer to Claire. 

"No, I mean, out of happiness." Claire shook her head with a curt laugh. Leah softened, her shoulders falling. "I actually want to eat, and these were waiting for me."

Leah smirked. "Have any salami and Starfruit wine in the fridge?"

Claire shook her head again, this time adding an eye-roll. "If only."

Silence permeated the space between them, the air slightly charged from the memory of their previous interaction with one another. 

"Wanna share breakfast with me?" Claire smiled and turned around, reaching for the eggs.

Leah was already exiting the coop and heading for the farmhouse.

 

 

•

 

 

The sound of awkward laughter filled the living room.

"And then C sent us flying down to his underground lair!" Leah covered her egg-filled mouth, taking breaks to swallow, laugh, and catch her breath.

Shaking her head in bemusement, Claire set her plate aside and then brought her knees up to her chin, encircling her thighs with her arms. "That's how you met him?"

Leah nodded, another boisterous laugh coming out of her, shaking her entire body. "We were terrified, of course. I thought I was about to—" she gestured with her thumb, dragging it across her neck.

"I guess it reminds me that you don't know the C I was introduced to. Up until just recently," Leah looked off to the side uncomfortably. "He's been nothing but a crackhead."

Claire nodded solemnly, her own pair of eyes dropping to the hardwood flooring in an attempt to avoid the feelings that burned from beneath her skin. 

"They're omnispirits." Claire said, finally, earning a raised brow from Leah. 

"I'm aware," Leah responded with a smirk.

She doesn't realize it, Claire thought, wondering if she should say what she really wants to. 

"They may have helped us," Claire started, picking the lint off her shirt. "But they're omnispirits at the end of the day."

"What do you mean?"

"They really only care about themselves, Leah. Born of flesh and sin, Z has recounted numerous stories to Shane and I, telling us who and what they are."

Leah adjusted herself in front of Claire, extending her legs out to the side and leaning in. "So, what are they?"

"I'm saying I wouldn't be surprised if they took my ectoplasm for themselves." Claire frowned, appearing smaller.

"What?" Leah asked incredulously. "Why would they do that?"

"They've stolen... things before." Claire pushed her forehead into her knees. "Who's to say they won't do it again?"

"Claire," Leah shuffled forward until her hair fell over Claire's calves. "Z may have shared stories with you, but he's talked to me, too." 

That made Claire look up. With curious and wet eyes, she listened to Leah intently.

"He told me they stole to survive. Gareth is dead! Banished! So tell me why they would steal from you, now that the threat is gone?" 

"They have no reason to do that," Leah assured, moving back to her original position. "So you have no reason to worry."

Resuming her breakfast, Leah stabbed a piece of egg and brought it up to her mouth, chewing the yolky bite slowly before swallowing.

Claire sniffled. "Thank you."

"Hey, if I have to be your light in the dark, so be it." Leah forked another bite of runny egg into her mouth and then proceeded to stack her empty plate on top of Claire's.

Hoisting herself up, she grabbed the plates and took them with her into the kitchen. Setting them down in the sink, she turned the water on.

But nothing came out of the faucet. 

"That's weird, is your water turned off?" Leah asked. 

"No?" Claire stood up and found herself behind Leah, looking into the dry sink.

Without uttering another word, Leah turned around and headed for the front door. Claire followed close behind.

Once the two were outside, Leah rounded the house, completely ignoring the pile of poop on the porch, her face contorted into one of determination. 

"Well, that explains your Sahara desert of a home." 

Following Leah's gaze, Claire stared at the broken water line off beyond the house. "Damn," she muttered softly.

She was upset, of course, but there was something else that prohibited her from wanting to do anything about it. 

"I wouldn't be shocked if it got fucked during the battle." Leah crossed her arms. "That was several days ago, though."

"Have you been without water for that long?" She turned to face Claire, concern written all over her face. 

"Huh." Claire shook her head slowly. "I guess I have."

"Is that why you stink?" Leah quipped, but dropped her jesting once she took in Claire's apathetic demeanor. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, don't worry," Claire inhaled, closing her eyes. "I think it just hit me how unaware I've been." 

Staying quiet, it was Leah's turn to listen intently. She knew Claire had more to say.

"I've been a mess, Leah, okay? You're right, I do stink. I stink because I haven't showered in a long time. I haven't been eating—believe it or not, those eggs were the first thing I've had since, since—"

"Go on," Leah nodded.

"I'm a mess." Claire repeated herself, exhaling and turning around, facing her land. 

"Dr. Harvey's celebration is today, you know."

"I know." Leah responded, her fingers grazing Claire's from behind. 

"I need him to enjoy today."

"And he will!" Leah exclaimed, nearly startling Claire. "So let's get you that shower."

Then, with all the passion she had in her body, she pointed past the broken fences, past the chicken coop and pig pen. 

"Come use mine." Leah responded innocently, a hint of excitement coating her words.

Chapter 54: Reprieve

Leah

 

 

"Do you need anything else? Hot chocolate? Lip balm? I think I have some mead in one of these chests. Let me check to see if they're still there." 

I gravitate toward my chests, all of them lining the wall adjacent to my bed. 

"I think I just need a towel." Claire calls out from inside the bathroom, hot steam flying out of the closed door.

"Oh, yeah—sure." I'm flipping open my third chest when I lock eyes with the familiar bottle.

Shane gifted this to me when I first arrived in Pelican Town. 

I smile, feeling a bittersweet tug at my heartstrings. 

"What was it like, Claire?" I remove the cork and take a whiff. Oof, that's fucking strong. "When you first moved here, I mean?"

"Uh," Claire pauses, and the sound of the shower turning off alerts me. I head for the door, watching it as it opens right as I walk up to it, and insert my arm into the gap. I hold the towel out for her.

"It was quiet. Quieter, really,” she says with a curt chuckle. “Vince wasn’t even born yet, and Jas was still just an infant."

Claire's fingers grazes mine as she accepts the towel, and I'm attempted to latch onto her hand but I don't. 

I step back so that she can close the door again.

She doesn't.

My stomach does a little flip, and something so small of a gesture—or lack of one—manages to twist me into a fucking knot. The door is slightly ajar, and Claire is right behind it, drying herself.

I gulp. "Right."

Right? Wrong! What am I saying? I don't even know what we were talking about, much less how I'm supposed to respond.

I bite the inside of my cheek, immediately wincing as the taste of iron fills my mouth. I need to tell her how I feel.

So. Just. Tell. Her. 

"Claire," I start, suddenly aware of my rising pulse. My tongue feels dry, and I don't think anything could be louder than my heart right now.

Then, the door opens, and Claire is standing there. Pure, genuine confusion is written between her brows.

Fuck, she's waiting for me to continue!

"This feels so informal." 

Claire is looking at me funny; her head is tilted, and her eyes are sparkling. What does that look mean?

She looks down at herself and the towel that is covering her. "I mean, we can only do so much."

"Huh?"

"For Harvey. It's not like we have a castle and an endless income to spend on to-the-nines decorations or anything."

My heartbeat quickens and I feel like jumping out of my skin. "No, that's not—“

"Leah," Claire starts with a smirk, "we make a good team."

"You really put things into perspective for me earlier, you know that?" She's smiling at me. There's a gap between her two bottom teeth, and I don't think I could ever grow tired from watching her smile like that.

Then I'm kissing her. 

Twice in one week.

She’s warm, straight from the shower, the space above her top lip still wet from the water. 

I'm slipping my hands over the base of her neck when I feel a bolt of electricity shoot down my spine. 

She's got her fingers entangled in my hair!

I pull back hastily. "I know you said you can't do this, Claire, but I can." 

She's staring back at me, wide-eyed, tears starting to brim.

"God, don't cry!" A nervous laugh escapes me, but all five of my senses are somehow simultaneously ceasing to exist and causing my body to vibrate from the overstimulation. "Seeing you cry kills me, Claire. Do you know that?"

She smiles sadly, the tears falling now down her bright red cheeks. 

"Do you know what being with you feels like? You're in a towel and I can't breathe, Claire. I can't function."

"I need to kiss you again," I tell her, leaning into her again.

Her lips are salty, and it feels like she means the kiss she's giving back to me. I can feel the pulse in her throat. Is it throbbing for me?

"Can you not function around me?" I ask her, breaking from the kiss and analyzing her face. It's unreadable.

Claire falters. "I don't—"

A sound alerts us, two hard raps at my front door. 

"Leah? Is Claire in there with you? She's not at her farm." Shane says from outside, and I watch as Claire disappears into the bathroom again, closing the door behind her.

I grit my teeth and face the door, nails digging into my palms. "She's here."

"Oh, okay!" Shane responds. "I'll be at the community center in ten minutes. See you guys there!"

"See you." I swallow my anger, letting it dissolve at the bottom of my stomach along with my heart.

Chapter 55: Redemption

 

 

 

She was alone in the cabin when she exited the bathroom, a daunting loneliness weighing heavily on her chest.

Applying her final layer of lip balm, Claire tossed the Cucumber Mint tube onto Leah's bed, watching it roll around until it fell off the edge. It settled beneath the frame, and she didn't try to reach for it again.

Turning, she took a swig from the bottle of mead that Leah left out for her, feeling the dry liquid coat her throat.

She inhaled deeply, knowing today was one for the books. And it would be, she thought. 

She gulped down the last bit of honey wine and made her departure, closing the door behind her and hearing it click into place.

The weather was gloomy, Claire noticed, feeling several drops of rain land on her shoulders. 

In an attempt to warm up, she cradled herself as the temperature dropped, wondering if Leah had made it to the center yet.

"Out for a stroll?" Evelyn's soft voice equally surprised and comforted Claire. 

"Nonna!" She exclaimed, feeling Evelyn slip her veiny arm inbetween her own. "Should you be out and about right now? You're supposed to be in bed."

The older woman laughed quietly, shaking her head. "This is the most energy I've had in years!"

Claire smiled warmly, watching as the older woman's face relaxed, the lines on her forehead smoothing out, her youth returning to her for a millisecond. Evelyn was staring ahead, seemingly somewhere up in her head. Claire wasn't about to interrupt.

Once they passed the general store, the structure of the event ahead began to take shape, the stage and its speakers, cords and microphone stands coming into view. Off white lawn chairs filled the space in front of the stage, some of the villagers milling nearby. Leah was nowhere in sight.

Claire stood still, her feet practically glued to the cobblestone. She couldn't make herself move up the stairs.

She watched on as Evelyn shuffled up, however, progressing excitedly toward the hubbub as though still believing Claire was right behind her. As though she hadn't just endured the battle in the forest, just days prior.

"Are you out of breath already?" The familiar voice belonging to Shane sounded behind Claire.

He exhaled loudly and proceeded to crack his neck. "Didn't think you had it in you, to be honest."

Claire narrowed her eyes and turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

It was then that Claire took in his attire. The Shane who rarely dressed up for anything stood in front of her sporting a navy blue button up and black trousers, his hair slicked back in an old fashioned style. 

She hadn’t meant for her surprise to take over, but by the way he grinned, there was little for her to deny; Shane looked handsome.

“Have you seen Leah?” She asked, scanning his face for the smallest hint of answers, aware he hadn't answered her question but feeling too distracted to ask again.

Shaking his head, Shane gestured to the community center up ahead. “Might be there.”

”She’s not.” I checked, she thought.

His brows dipped. “Then I’ve got nothin'.”

"Well," he exhaled, and as if seeing him truly for the first time in a while, Claire noted the dark bags under his eyes. "See ya around."

Walking off, he shuffled not in the direction of the community center but past the general store, and then the clinic. 

Curiosity bubbling up from within her, she weighed her options.

She could continue up the stairs and mingle with the villagers up near the stage. She could find Abigail, or Emily, or maybe Penny, and discuss the speech that Harvey had planned for tonight.

Or she could follow Shane.

Without so much as a warning, she felt her shoes kick up behind her, and she was off, spinning away from the community center.

Claire felt her brows crease in confusion as they neared her farmhouse. What is Shane up to?

Not wanting him to catch on, Claire slinked behind trees and bushes, waiting momentarily so that the distance between them was large enough. When the timing was right, she continued stealthily along the path, keeping Shane in her line of sight.

It was when he approached Claire's home and then trudged towards the back of it that Claire heard a voice nearby.

"...and this is what I found."

Claire placed her hand on the wood paneling and balanced herself, rounding the corner and staring straight ahead at two familiar faces. Beneath them an abstract horror began caving in on itself.

Decaying leaves resembling decades-old carpet parted and exposed a deep crater in front of them. The smell of rotten fruit and long forgotten memories crept up like the newfound Spring sun; distinct nostalgia brewed within Claire despite her blocked vision, yet the scene elicited feelings of both surprise and confusion respectively.

Unaware of Claire standing behind them, Shane and Leah peered down into the hole in the ground.

"Elliott thought he lost this forever!" Leah exclaimed, crouching down and retrieving faded typewriter keys from the decayed mire. Shane fidgeted beside her.

"Oh," she continued, her voice plummeting to a near-deaf softness that Claire could barely make out Leah's next words. 

Shane threw his head up in disgust, another smell hitting his nose. Claire felt herself move involuntarily again, shuffling back against the house where the paneling squeaked.

"That's..." Leah started, plugging her nose, unable to get the words out.

Shane coughed. "Aunt Marnie's chicken that went missing last year."

Then, in the mess of the crater, Claire spotted a familiar wax seal, an inscription that couldn't have been made by anyone except...

"My wine." Claire uttered, earning a curious look from Shane. Leah twitched, but her gaze did not waver from the hole.

Approaching the foul-smelling hollow, Claire sucked in her breath and plunged her arm inside, carefully extracting the broken wine bottle, the faint smell of fermented rhubarb hitting her nose. 

"These were here," she started, twinges of anger and regret simming beneath her chest. "All along, they were right here. On my farm." 

Lifting herself up, Claire turned toward a pair of violet eyes, those of which also bore a sort of untangible remorse. Shame.

"That night on Spirit's Eve," Leah stated breathily. "Before we changed into our costumes, I went to look for you."

Pointing to the ground, her jaw tightened, contracting, and Claire noticed. "You had already left for my cabin, but I didn't know that. Not at the time."

"What are you getting at, Leah?" Claire pressured, the gap between the women getting smaller. For being so close earlier, their current proximity felt off now, foreign.

Shane shifted beside them.

"There was movement behind your house," Leah explained, a dark shade of red starting to fill her sullen cheeks. "I thought it was you."

"You saw Gareth." Claire said under her breath, the color draining from her face. 

Leah shook her head wildly. "I didn't see him, I heard him."

Shaking her head, Claire continued listening to Leah recounting her version of last Spirit's Eve. 

About how Gareth was there indeed, but didn't unveil or reveal himself to her.

"He said his name, Claire." Leah frowned at the crater, her eyes cold and distant. "I thought I was hearing things."

"That's all?" Claire questioned, placing her hand on Leah's arm without thinking. Leah didn't seem to notice.

"Tell her I'm close."

"What?" Claire retracted her hand in an instant, and Shane bent down to pick at the rotted leaves.

"That's what he said. He must've been putting all these things into the hole," she gestured to the gape in the earth. "And I interrupted him."

"And I started everything—"

Forcing the woman to look her in the eye, Claire grabbed Leah's arm. "We've talked about this."

"We're not falling into that pattern of thinking anymore."

As if knowing it deep in her heart, Leah nodded briefly, still avoiding Claire's gaze but her features softened if not by at least a little.

"Maybe we should go see if anyone needs help up at the stage," Shane chimed in for the first time in a while, and Claire nodded in response. Leah abruptly walked past them, seemingly headed for the community center.

Using the moment as a reprieve from recent events, Claire craned her neck until she heard it crack. "I'll clean this up, you go and follow her."

"It's a bunch of junk, Claire!" Shane protested, the underside of one eye twitching. "You can always clean it later."

She breathed in, squeezing the neck of the wine bottle until she swore she almost felt it crumble within her palm. Then she shook her head once.

"No, I have to do this. Gareth tainted me and my farm for too long, and now that we've found this—" she pointed to the crater at their feet "—I can't let it stay." 

"If it makes you feel better—"

"It does." Claire shot back, regretting the sharpness in her voice but not saying anything on the matter. 

Turning to her friend, she grinned slightly, the corner of her mouth turning upwards in an 'I'm sorry for this lame excuse of an apology' kind of way. 

"I shouldn't take too long." Claire suppressed a yawn and started for her front door. She was certain a trash bag or two was somewhere under the kitchen sink, suffocating under layers of dust.

Almost to the porch, she flung her head over her shoulder. "Take care of her in the meantime, okay?"

She only had one foot in the door when Shane responded in turn:

"I'll do what I can, but you should know that until you find your way back, you do it best." 

Chapter 56: Reconciliation

 

 

 

The changing shade of crimson red to blood orange sparked in the reflection of her eyes, and Claire watched on silently as the fire she'd just started swallowed up the contents in the crater.

She'd changed her mind at the last minute, tossing the trash bags and instead grabbing her emergency gasoline and matches. 

Though the sky threatened rain, the embers from the fire persisted, roaring in front of Claire with no regard.

As the mementos burned to ashes, Claire began to cry.

Images of two familiar deaths flashed involuntarily before her eyes, and at the smell of smoke, Claire fell.

Into the crater, allowing the flames to engulf her as she made complicated peace with herself and her decision.

At least that is what she thought about for only a fleeting moment as she drank in the sight.

Cradling herself, she exhaled. ”Be okay,” she started, her voice cracking. “Wherever you are.”

”I thought I told you that I wanted to be apart of the funeral?” Leah’s voice filled the space beside Claire, and it was all that Claire could do to not look at her.

”No funeral.” Claire said, and it was the truth. “Just a fire.”

”And those are just tears.” 

Leah had her on that one.

The flames had grown exponentially now, clawing out of the pit and reaching for the greying sky that could end its life at any moment now.

“We’re supposed to be setting up the event.” Claire sniffed, wiping her nose.

Leah inhaled, crossing her arms. “That’s being taken care of—”

”How did you leave the commune?”

Claire’s sudden question took Leah by surprise, but the woman was quick to answer it.

”I.. I just left.”

She was stone-walling now, Claire was sure of it. But she needs to talk about it, I need to know.

”Yes, but I can’t stop thinking about how the events unfolded. How long had you been out in those woods? Before we met?”

"Is this really something we need to discuss?"

"Yes."

When Leah crouched low to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs, Claire followed suit, scooting close.

Tell. Me.

"I was so angry." The woman started to say. Droplets of rain had started to descend, coating both of the women's shoulders. 

"I had just confessed my feelings to her—Corinne—but it was fake. All of it." She picked at the fingernails, scratching the edges until skin peeled off.

Claire sat and waited.

And when it was clear that Leah didn't plan on saying anything else, Claire looked over at her.

"How was it fake?"

"The whole thing!" Leah erupted, her cheeks almost as red as the fire that had started earlier. "They made a joke of me."

"Who did?"

"Bec, the other girls..." Leah trailed off, her eyes darkening.

"My mother."

Claire sat in silence once again, giving the stage to her.

"I should have known it, Claire," Leah continued. "To think confiding in someone who only half-loved you and fully hated herself would be a good idea. Not a chance."

"I was ridiculed and I thought it was all Bec's doing."

Shaking her head, the woman fought back tears. "When Corinne started laughing at me, and when I realized it was some god-awful prank, I ran to her. My mom. The person who should have been there for me."

"But then she was laughing too."

For the first time since returning to the farm, Leah glanced in Claire's direction. Claire reciprocated.

"So I left. Ran." A small smile showed up on her face, a nod to what would be said next. 

"Then I found you, Claire."

"You don't have to say the next part," Claire reminded her friend. Leah simply nodded.

That was it. That's all I'm going to get on the matter, I suppose.

Standing up, the women exchanged polite and sympathetic smiles, communicating silently with one another in a way no one else could. 

Chapter 57: Lavender and Oakmoss

Summary:

♥

Leah

 

 

"Harvey's speech is about to start," Claire says finally, turning to face the path towards Town and breaking the silence.

I nod, knowing we need to get back to civilization. To people.

"Do you know what he has planned?" I ask, having a gut feeling that she doesn't.

When she shakes her head no, I nod again. That was predictable.

"All I know is that he's excited." Claire smiles as we start to move. I nod a third time because I can't do anything else.

Then we're passing the bus, and she does it.

She takes my hand in hers, and I stop breathing.

I turn sharply to face her and almost lose balance from the whip lash. "Are you sure?"

Claire stops abruptly, and I'm not sure what to think. What the fuck is happening?

When she steps forward in front of me, my heart skips, and I stare at her with all the concern I'm internalizing. "Claire?"

"I'm sorry it's been so awkward." She says curtly, though her voice is soft, small. "I'm sorry I'm so awkward."

I'm about to tell her it's okay when she drops my hand and brings hers up to caress the base of my neck. Can she feel how warm it is?

"Do you like me?" The words tumble out of my mouth like I'm twelve. Like I've just confessed my feelings to her and am waiting on her response that I know could either make or break this moment. Please don’t laugh.

Claire takes a moment to think, her eyes flitting away from mine momentarily, only to come back again, making my heart flip. 

"I don't know how I feel about you." She tells me, and I'm nodding again, instantly feeling small again. 

"But, wait, hold on," she brings her hands up defensively. "Let me explain."

And I let her.

Twirling a strand of my hair around her finger, she twists it around my ear. "I can't put what I feel into words."

"That's what I'm trying to say," she laughs, the gap in her teeth showing and sending bolts of electricity down my spine. "Because what I feel for you..."

I stop breathing again.

"...is like being at the top of a rollercoaster." She beams at me, eyes wet.

"It's terrifying and exhilirating." Claire exhales, her breath tickling my cheek. "I know I'm about to fall and it's all I can do to keep myself from screaming."

"So you like me." I smile through blurred vision, and her fingers fly up to my cheeks immediately, ready to catch my tears. 

She lets out another nervous laugh. "Let me explain," she repeats, her eyes dropping to my lips.

This feels familiar, but different.

I cry silently when her fingers massage their way into my hair, and I can't help it—my hands seek out hers as well. Some of her curls at the base of her neck are still wet from the shower she took. My lavender shampoo mixed with her natural scent, and the smell is intoxicating and overwhelming all of my senses.

And I don't care.

I don't care because I can't imagine a world where she doesn't drive me...

"Crazy," I utter as she kisses my earlobe. 

She asks me a question. 'What did you say?' or 'Will you spend eternity with me?'.

I don't know. Maybe I'll never know.

"You." I tell her, coming out of the intoxication and meeting her gaze. "I feel so many things for you, Claire."

It goes dark. Whether that's due to me closing my eyes or the changing skies overhead, the world around us dims. 

She smiles at my abandoned sentence and leans in. She kisses me, her hands at the back of my neck and mine grabbing a handful of her hair eagerly. She snakes around my bottom lip with her tongue, and I greedily meet her there with my own.

When she parts, I feel every fiber of my body strain for more.

"Is everything okay?" I ask her, ready to drop this speech and take her back to my cabin. It could be ours if she wants it to be.

Though she's silent, her demeanor says plenty. An intake of breath, rapid-fire blinking, hot breath on my neck.

"Leah." She says my name breathily, like she'd just ran five miles. She's looking at me differently now.

Then she's taking my hand again, pulling me into her, and we go flying into a nearby enclosure full of trees, the bushery enshrouding us from the rest of Stardew Valley. 

I don't have time to process our fall because the next thing I know, Claire is on top of me.

I stare up at her, wide-eyed and bewildered. I don't have the words to encapsulate how beautiful she looks right now as I straddle my hips with her strong legs. 

Rain is falling from the sky, the smell of lavender and oakmoss emanates from my lover, and without giving her a warning, I raise myself up to greet her, crashing into her mouth once again. 

Claire falters slightly, flinching as though this was our first time. While the kiss isn't foreign, maybe this newfound energy that's swelling up all around us is. Because as she's kissing me, Claire keeps me balanced, wrapping her arms around my back and pushing me into her. Our applied force centers us both, locking us into a swaying trance, our lips in competition with each other.

I know I'd said earlier I was capable of filling in the gaps for us both, but now? 

Claire is removing the flannel from my torso, unraveling its buttons so carefully like it's made of glass, and I've lost all ability to think. 

I help her remove my undershirt, gripping the hem of it and tugging on it until it's over my head and tossed to the side.

There's still my bra left to remove, but Claire isn't even looking at it. Not remotely concerned with the lace and silk that's adorning my breasts. No, Claire is looking at me.

"Can I do this?" She asks, staring down at me. I'm nodding my head, at least I think I am, the vibration heavy on both my shoulders from giving absolute enthusiastic consent. 

"Look where you are, Claire," I say, laughing breathlessly up at her. "You can do whatever you want to me."

Fuck, fuck, this is happening.

With a clumsy smirk, Claire reaches for my bra, struggling momentarily with the clasp. She's giggling, my cheeks are reddening—even the trees and bushes move with us.

Droplets of rain tickle my now very exposed nipples, and Claire is admiring them, her dilated eyes glued to me more than they've ever been before.

Then, all at once, she's leaning over and popping one of them into her mouth.

I'm frozen in my spot beneath her, feeling her tongue dance around my areola. I am slack-jawed and enraptured.

I think, this is it! I'm flying without moving at all!

I'm on cloud nine with her mouth on me, swirling her tongue in directions I didn't know were achievable, that I don't even notice her hand traveling down the length of my body. Invisible by sight but not by touch, Claire unfastens my pants, exposing my pale flesh at lightning speed.

My pants sit awkwardly between the thickest part of my hips and the slim of my thighs, but Claire fixes it, removing her lips from my breasts to focus entirely on removing what is now an inconvenience, a barrier. 

With my pants fully off and crumpled at my feet, she slides her hand over the material of my underwear, her fingers now slick from my wet clitoris, and I inhale sharply. 

"You're so warm." She whispers deliciously in my ear, and I quiver at both her touch and transcendental ability to breathe life into me with just her voice. 

I need to look at her, my thoughts override my emotions, though my head is dizzy and my mouth is dry.

Look. At. Her.

When I turn to face her, Claire is already locked onto me, and I watch as she paints me with her sweet, sweet, molasses-brown eyes. Swirling around my blotchy cheeks, counting the freckles across my nose, smoothing over my chin and resting at the hollow center of my neck. 

"We're not friends." I echo what's been on repeat in my head for days.

Claire smiles down at me while her fingers move rhythmically inside me, her thumb massaging my clit so tenderly, so wonderfully, that I release my jaw for the umpteenth time. 

She stares through me as though she's in a trance, and I breathe her in, needing so desperately to be as close as possible to her. 

"We're not friends," I hear myself utter again, my voice coming out shaky from the swift transition of pleasure to unimaginable bliss.

"Claire!" I exclaim, feeling myself near my orgasm. Gripping her arms, I find her gaze, which is of course fixated on me. 

She sees me, I know she knows I'm about to come.

But I need her to come with me, too!

In one fell swoop I lift her dress up, just enough to gain access to her panties.

It's only then that I notice she's not wearing any.

The rain is falling down on us now, hard. They're like pellets, reminding us of Mother Nature's unsinister disregard and merciless existence.

In the time that it takes me to process her naked body, Claire is already positioning herself on top of me, fitting onto me like the perfect puzzle. 

Her hand flies up to the side of my face, her fingernails caressing the spot where the wisps of my hair meets my temple. 

And then she's gyrating against me.

We pulsate and melt into one another, our time-freezing rapture caught in our throats as we attempt to convey the bliss we're equally sharing in. 

"Fuck."

"Leah."

"I'm coming, I'm coming—!"

"Come for me, baby."

And we do. Oh, do we come. 

Hard, fast, bindingly and for eternity.

Chapter 58: One for the Books

 

 

 

“I invite everyone to reflect on the events that took place recently.” Harvey said solemnly into the microphone. Hovering over the stand, which was simply too short for him, the Town's doctor nearly devoured the grille whole. 

Garnished with gold and swaying awkwardly as ever, he cleared his throat, utilizing the moment of silence he'd just requested by scanning the crowd of somber faces.

When the silence had done its job and the faces of the villagers resembled austere portraits you could expect hanging on drab walls, Harvey nodded knowingly.

Clearing his throat again, he stared into the grille. "Today marks a week since the horrific attack."

Droplets of rain hit his padded shoulders and the darkening sky loomed grimly overhead. Standing at the front, Claire composed herself as best as she could.

"You remember your lines?" Leah whispered with a smirk.

Claire closed her eyes then nodded, feeling the anxiety swirl uncomfortably in her stomach. 

She didn't have any lines truthfully, but she wasn't about to let anyone else know that. Not even Leah.

Leah would have to wait and witness the disaster like everybody else.

Exhaling, her breath came out like icicles, the air frosting in front of her. 

Claire clammed up, knowing her time to walk on stage was inching down by the second.

"You don't look good." Leah whispered into her ear again, and Claire shuddered from the warmth. 

"I don't feel good," Claire admitted, willing the gnawing nerves in her body to come to a slow, if not a complete stop.

"...and it is an honor to invite our local heroine, Claire, to the stage!" Harvey's words felt grating now, the sound of her name serving only as a reminder that hiding behind Leah could not be a feasible permanent solution, no matter how badly she wished it to be.

"Won't you come up?" His arm was stretched out for the taking and anticipation hung heavily between them. Smiling up at him, Claire feigned confidence before taking his hand.

Once she was standing beside him, the doctor patted her on the shoulder and walked off, leaving the stage to her and her only. 

Beaming up at her, Leah sent a wink of encouragement. Claire caught it before it flew away, closing her eyes as if to keep it still, and locked it in place in her heart for this moment; she would need it; oh god, would she need it.

She felt the words she'd planned on saying die on her tongue, the multiple variations of her introduction collapsing into one another like a car crash. 

The last bit of the sun pressed into her nape, but her bones stiffened as if it was still Winter. 

Just come out with it already!

Claire stared at all the faces staring back at her. She gulped, inhaled, then exhaled.

"I didn't have anything planned." She grimaced the second the words left her mouth, but she couldn't stop the truth train now. "I don't know what I'm doing, in all fairness."

Claire figured Leah would be disappointed in her lack of planning, but staring up at her, opposite from the confused looks of the villagers, Leah smiled.

"'Give a speech', they said, except I don't know how to give one. I don't even know what you all want to hear much less what I should say."

Leah nodded subtly, giving Claire the push she needed.

"But," she exhaled again. "I think I could start this off by saying how brave you guys have been. For witnessing destruction like you did, the strength of this Town is overwhelming for me, because how can you do it? Carnage, wreckage, death..."

The purple and green faces flashed before her, and her junimos filled her thoughts just then. 

No, her voice roared loudly in her mind. I am not crying. Not yet. I can't.

Save it for the funeral, Claire imagined Leah whispering to her. 

"Abigail!" she said pointedly, forcing herself out of her head. "You had no idea what was going on, and just recently did you learn everything in just a short amount of time. How did you do that?"

Abigail smiled sympathetically from the back of the crowd.

"And Shane," she found her other dear friend next to his aunt, lingering awkwardly and not quite meeting Claire's eye. "You were manipulated in ways that still surpass my knowledge and sanity, yet you're still here. What do you do to manage that?"

Claire scanned the many faces in front of her, fatigue climbing its way up her chest, forcing itself out of her mouth.

"I think what I'm saying is that in lieu of today's celebration, there's a lot that still needs to be done. A lot of repair and starting from the bottom. And," Claire paused, replaying the wink that Leah offered just moments ago. 

"I'd like to be a part of that rebranding, if you'll let me." She let herself smile as the villagers erupted in noise, the sound of fervent clapping and hollering nearly shaking the stage. 

Harvey took over again, thanking Claire and guiding her back down to where Leah stood. Once he returned to the stage, he nodded at her one last time before adjusting the height of the microphone stand to his liking.

"There you have it everyone, the Town's hero!" That gained more applausing, and Claire shied away from the attention, scrunching her nose up and digging it into Leah's shoulder. 

"You did good." Leah whispered.

Claire blushed, forcing her head down towards the ground. "Thanks."

"And now for the band!" announced Harvey, lifting his arm in greeting as Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian found their positions behind microphones and instruments.

Soon the field went quiet, the crowd hushing themselves and staring up in anticipation. 

Heart racing, Claire leaned into Leah before promptly resting her cheek on Leah's shoulder.

The first few guitar chords played out almost like a lullaby, and as the tempo increased, so did the talent, and the eventual culmination of all three instruments playing out in sheer fervor and passion entertained the villagers.

Then the song came to a slow, and Sam began to play a melancholic, bittersweet melody on his guitar. 

Leah leaned over and found Claire's hand, enveloping it and squeezing it tight.

Once the song reached its end, the crowd jumped up in applause, simultaneously praising the musicians on stage and celebrating the Town's new mayor.

But still in their seats, enjoying a moment of their own, the women up at the front kissed.

Entangled in their own celebration, they were simply too distracted to notice anything else.

 

•

 

The sun had just set, and while many of the villagers ping-ponged across the field, carrying chairs and tidying up the stage, Claire and Leah huddled under the street light next to Pierre's store.

"It's cold," Claire motioned to Leah. "Come snuggle."

Tugging on Leah's sweater, Claire brought her close and under her chin. "There, I like this more."

When Leah let out a soft chuckle, Claire reddened at the sweet sound.

After a moment of comforting silence, Leah's eyes flew up to look Claire in the face. "You did good up there, you know." Her words vibrated against Claire's collarbone. "Like, really good."

"And you kept me standing," responded Claire, finding a Raggedy Ann curl right above Leah's ear and twirling it around her forefinger. "Did you see me stealing glimpses of you while I was up there? I was a wreck!"

"You weren't a wreck!" Leah peeled herself back to speak, and before continuing, she winked up at Claire. "You had me."

Just then, the once dark sky lit up like it did on New Years, and the sound of explosions going off in the distance shook the two back into an embrace again. 

"I forgot Sam volunteered to do fireworks," Claire peered up at the colorful new sky. "He'd been saving every paycheck for the last year for something, is what I heard."

"And he used all of it? For fireworks?" Leah shook her head but soon relaxed in Claire's arms, sinking in deep.

The two watched as the canvas between the stars took on shades of green and hues of purple. 

Squeezing her hands like she'd done just moments ago, Leah watched Claire's face, which had been painted by the fireworks. 

"Let's go home." Leah voiced, needing to raise her voice above the celebration. 

Claire nodded and then rubbed the tired out of her eyes. "It's been a long day."

Leah slung an arm under Claire's and lead her towards the dirt road. When they passed the bus, Leah narrowed her eyes as they approached Claire's farm.

"My house or yours?" Leah asked.

"Yours," Claire answered almost immediately, gaining a raised brow in response. 

Noticing the eagerness but deciding not to bring it up, Leah nodded curtly and clung to the tree line. The fireworks sounded miles away now.

The pier soon came into view, and Claire looked longingly at the sparkling water beyond it. Leah watched her eyes dart back and forth.

"It wasn't that long ago when I saw you there," she noted, squeezing Claire's hand three times. "I cannot put into words how relieved I was to see that you were safe. Alive."

Claire smiled at that, her eyes not moving away from the dock. 

"Well," Leah continued, her voice sounding small. "We're here."

Claire turned, shaking herself from her thoughts. Leah was right; the door to the cabin was directly in front of them.

"I have something for you." Leah quickly entered the cabin, not allowing Claire any time to process.

Standing inside now, just in front of the door, Claire decided to wait.

Returning quickly, Leah rounded the corner with a small container in hand. "Open it, open it!"

While Leah watched in pure glee, Claire took off the lid only to be blinded by a bright, turquoise light. 

Stunned, she stared at it until her eyes adjusted, feeling her heartstrings tug at the sight of it but not quite understanding its significance. 

When Claire had nothing to say, it was Leah who spoke up.

"It's their essence."

Their essence?

But then it occurred to her what Leah was saying.

Leah took a step forward. "It's okay."

She didn't know she was crying. She didn't know it until Leah let the tears fall onto her open hand. 

"How did you..."

"I found a glowing ball toward the west side of your farm. This was a while ago when Emily, Abigail, and I were taking turns feeding the animals."

Claire was about to remove it from the container when Leah shook her head. "I wouldn't touch it—took me days to restore it."

"Really? How did you do it?" Claire choked on her words, feeling another wave of emotions crash into her. 

"Well," Leah started with a mischievous grin, "I may have had some magical help from a magical being who lives in a magical tower."

Claire felt herself deflate. "I don't know how to repay you, Leah. Thank you."

"You can repay me by giving me a kiss?" Leah said suggestively, which earned her a soft chuckle.

"Gladly," Claire set the container down on the end table and approached Leah, wearing a teary smile.

When their lips touched and their hands entwined, it was hard to stop. Soon they were splayed out on the floor, Claire on top of Leah.

Gently, Leah wiped the tears that continued to fall down Claire's cheeks. 

"It's okay, I'm okay," Claire told her, going in for another kiss despite her soft weeping.

Then, she was undressing, her blouse being thrown over her shoulder and her pants sliding down until they were kicked off. From beneath her, Leah took in the stain on Claire's cotton panties.

Claire was wet.

Looking up, mouth agape, Leah's eyes softened. Then her fingers were running over Claire's mound.

A soft whimper escaped both girls' parted mouths, and when Leah started rubbing Claire's clit in small circles, Claire couldn't help the moan that spilled out from her.

"Oh." Leah muttered as though she was in a daze, her voice so quiet the word almost didn't come out. "I've made you so wet, Claire."

"Taste me," Claire demanded suddenly, grabbing the top of Leah's head and forcing the woman's mouth over her clitoris. Despite her underwear still being on, euphoria crashed into her like a meteor shower, and Claire's head automatically flew backwards as she tried to keep herself from screaming.

Leah moaned against Claire, her tongue lapping up the now fully-drenched cloth. She was desperate.

Peeling back, Leah gazed up at Claire, torture seeded deep in her eyes. "Can I take them off?"

Without uttering a word, Claire nodded, watching in unbridled delight as Leah lowered her panties over her bent knees. Taking over, Claire finished the job and tossed her soiled underwear away, instantly feeling Leah's velvety tongue directly on her wet clitoris. She felt herself being spread and explored thoroughly, Leah's tongue always coming back to her clit and maintaining rhythm.

Then, when Claire thought she couldn't take it anymore, she felt two fingers sliding into her. 

Gasping, she peered down in amazement and watched Leah watching her. 

"I'm coming!" Claire shrieked, crashing fully onto the floor and taking Leah with her, squeezing the head in-between her thighs. 

As she came, she felt Leah's fingernails dig into her hips, and she released.

It didn't take long for both of them to catch their breath. In a matter of seconds they switched places, and as Claire pushed Leah against a wall, she felt herself start to well up again.

Pulling Leah's legs over her shoulders, Claire ate Leah's pussy desperately, driving her tongue in and out of her at inhumane speed. Claire couldn't stop the tears now.

It was there on the floor that they whimpered together. Gyrating and thrusting until they were as loud as the fireworks outside, exploding over Pelican Town.

Chapter 59: Junimos

 

 

 

The cave was cold and dim despite Leah's glow ring. Ghoulish moans from the Ghosts that nearly terrorized everyone in the last level kept them on edge, but it wasn't cause for concern; with Shane's dagger securely fastened to his hip and Abigail's sword gripped firmly in her hands, the group's safety was surefire.

"How much farther?" Shane inquired, guarding everyone from the back. 

"Not long now. Another level, I think," Leah responded, dropping the light onto the incoming ladder. 

"I still don't understand what's happening." Claire sniffed and proceeded to wipe dust off her face. 

Leah smiled but said nothing.

When all four reached the bottom of the next level, however, it soon became apparent what Leah had planned. 

In the center, with its tall ceilings making the space feel a lot bigger than it was, a circle of candles surrounded a wooden box.

Claire looked Leah's way immediately, a funny feeling stirring in her chest and tightening her throat.

"What is this?" She asked shakily, knowing exactly what it was.

Leah walked toward the circle and bent over, picking up one of the candles and bringing it up to her face.

The others followed suit, and one by one, all four of them stood side by side, candles in hand. 

"This is for Stinky and Smelly," Leah started, keeping her focus on the fire in front of her. "The junimos that started it all."

Claire stared into her own flame, the entirety of her friends' lives and deaths panning out in front of her like a movie.

Their first interaction in this very cave, and how it was the start of a pay-you-back-someday deal that ended up molding into a take-everything-I-have-and-then-some companionship.

How it was the junimos magic that likely drew Gareth in, reviving him from his interminable, self-made imprisonment and lured him to Pelican Town like a moth to flame. From Elliott's cabin to Marnie's chicken coop, and then eventually to Claire herself, seeking out what he'd been without and what he wanted desperately. Desperate enough to instill fear, kidnap, and, in the end, kill that which gave Claire her confidence. The confidence she ultimately harnessed to defeat Gareth for good.

Claire didn't realize her tears had put out her candle's flame. 

When Leah handed over her own, Claire shook her head and smiled through her crying. 

"I remember when I met them for the first time," Abigail started. "They made your house smell like clay for weeks."

That earned a chuckle from everyone, especially Claire, who nearly doubled over in full-on laughter. 

"They did smell pretty earthy.” Claire smiled genuinely, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

When the moment passed and the funereal gloominess returned, Claire closed her eyes. “Thank you for this, guys.”

”It was all Leah’s idea,” Shane stated. Claire thought so.

Looking down, Claire's brow raised. "What's in the box?"

"Open it." Leah nodded downwards, and Abigail and Shane watched Claire's face.

So she did just that, leaning over until she made contact with the box, picking it up and leaving the candle in its place. 

Upon opening it, Claire stared down at the junimo's essence in confusion. 

"I appreciate you doing this, but..." she trailed off, gawking sadly at the sentimental piece in her hands. "I don't know if I could part with this."

Then, a knowing smirk appeared slowly on Leah's face. 

"That's why I didn't put the real thing in there."

Claire stared dumbfoundedly at her. "Then what is this?"

"I had more magical help," Leah explained with a wink, moving closer to Claire. "At my request, Rasmodius was able to create a duplication of the essence. That's what you have in the box."

"To bury," Claire whispered to herself, waves of both relief and gratitude crashing into her.

"Thank you."

"Always."

"So, should we?" Abigail inquired, pointing the tip of her sword at the box.

In a matter of moments, a small hole in the ground was made, and as Claire knelt down to place the box in the dirt, she closed her eyes a second time and whispered something only she and her junimo friends could hear.

Leah filled the hole, and Claire kissed Stinky and Smelly goodbye, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and then sending it off to the mound beneath her.

Then, one by one, all four of them walked up the ladder.

Being the last one in line, Claire turned around before she ascended.

"Think of me," she said, knowing they would. 

She climbed the ladder and the last bit of light faded until the cave was enshrouded in darkness once again.

Chapter 60: Metamorphosis

Leah, One Year Later

 

 

Remember that feeling when the seasons would change, and the sun would melt the grey away? A stripe of sunlight cutting into your room, the sound and smell of someone mowing their lawn, and the frogs coming out to play again.

These are reminders that things can and do change. That there's never too much of one thing. That even if we're sick of the grey, it teaches us to be still and rest. And when we become sick of the sun, we will be reminded of all that its taught us as well. We always get what we end up needing anyway. 

"Pass the cheese, please," Claire asks through a mouthful of cherries, and I do as she asks.

The pier creaks just slightly as I stretch towards the charcuterie board. 

I'm handing her a slice when I sneak my own piece, tossing it into my mouth and savoring it until it's gone. 

She gives me a pointed look.

"You're eating dairy now?"

I smirk. "I guess I'm trying new things."

Claire scoffs playfully and crosses her arms. "Careful, those are fighting words."

I grin for half a beat before zoning out, reflecting on what happened the last time I consumed dairy. But then I think hard on the words that just came out of her mouth.

"But imagine if they weren't?"

"What do you mean?" Claire asks, raising a brow. 

"I mean," I begin, biting my lip in frustration. "What if they were healing words?"

Claire stares at me, her eyes turning a shade of vacancy. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but the last time you ate cheese, you stank up my bathroom for two whole days." 

I wave my arms back and forth. "No, listen!"

The brie calls out to me again so I grab another slice. "What I think I'm trying to say is that I'm adapting."

"Does your stomach know that?"

"Claire!"

"Sorry."

I run a hand across my forehead dramatically but let a grin stretch out on my mouth. 

"Not fighting words?" Claire says, a hint of admiration slipping through.

"Not fighting words," I repeat. "Healing words."

She raises her eyebrows in amusement, but I trust her to get the meaning of my words. 

"Okay, well, you looked so hot eating that cheese," Claire tells me, leaning in for a kiss. 

Her lips still taste like fruit, and I grow warm way too quickly. 

"Let's just hope I'm still hot by the time we get back home," I quip after pulling back, noting the crease in her forehead. 

She's doing that thing she does when she's thinking really hard about something.

And then she says to me:

"I may be respecting you with my eyes but I need you to know that I'm not with my thoughts."

I melt into her, falling into the nook between her collarbone and the base of her neck.

She's just as warm as I am. 

After an intense moment, Claire peels back and signals with her eyes, and I understand her clearly.

The picnic is wrapped up in ten seconds because I'm not wasting a goddamn second more. 

We're halfway to the cabin when an animated Emily pops out of a tree in front of us. 

Emily, you fucking cockblocker.

"Did you guys hear? Mayor Harvey is ordering everyone to the square!"

Claire and I groan.

He's been doing this a lot recently, I wonder if he plans on doing anything interesting for once?

"Alright," Claire speaks up. "We'll be right behind you."

Emily runs off and Claire rolls her eyes before steering us in the direction of Town.

When we arrive, almost everyone is already there, and the only spot available where Harvey is just barely in sight is directly in front of the bus. We squeeze past the villagers and I squeeze Claire's hand three times when we get there.

Harvey will give a ten minute speech about how thankful he is for everyone, invite us to next week's Build-the-Ramps charity fundraiser, and then he'll send us off. Dear Yoba, I hope he sends us off.

In front of his clinic, which now sports a big, fancy, fat Mayor in front of the sign above the door, Dr. Harvey stands proudly, smiling and waving at us all.

The square quiets down and he clears his throat.

Here we go.

“Before I dive into the reason I invited you here,” Harvey starts, and I tense up.

Claire has discreetly slid a hand down my back, inching toward the bottom of my spine.

Fuck.

”…I just wanted to thank everyone for being a team player.”

Harvey is praising his people and all I want is to do some worshipping of my own.

Stopping right before reaching my ass, Claire lingers at my hip, the tip of her fingernails caressing my exposed skin.

"...so I invite you all to our fundraiser next week!"

The crowd goes wild and so does my pulse.

"New children comes with new challenges," Harvey adds, and Claire drops her hand. "We have a few with disabilities, so join us on the 28th of Spring where we'll raise the funds to make their time here a little easier!"

Once again the villagers erupt in celebration, but I don't get the chance to clap because Claire is leaning into my ear and whispering to me.

"Let's make a break for it!"

Hiding behind the clapping crowd, we make our leave, our feet kicking up behind us.

The smell of clay hits my nose the moment we pass Claire's farm, and I wonder if it has hit hers too.

In fact, she hasn't been inside her farmhouse since last year. Too many memories, she'd said to me in bed one night. I don't know if I can.

So when I steal a glance at her face, I make it quick. If she knows that I can smell it—smell them—she may just break down. 

In the half-second that I saw her, all that I saw was freedom. 

The acceptance of the cycle of death and re-birth.

A cycle that'd been lived and put to bed; beauty personified in the shape of her.

And now I wonder if she looks at me and decides the same of me. That my cycle of shame is no more, and that I too am free. Free in her.

Mother.

My eyes close but only for a fraction of a second.

You don't hurt me anymore.

From beside me Claire squeezes my hand three times.

We're in front of the cabin now, and I'm surprised that my legs made it this far.

"Can I finish what I started?" She asks, chewing on her lip and feining innocence. 

Oh fuck.

"I ask for nothing else." I take hold of her waist and bring her inside, drinking the laugh that floods out of her mouth. The very mouth that crashes down on mine seconds later.

The door closes shut, and when her lips travel down my neck, my eyes are next to go too. 

And as she gives me the gift of herself, a stripe of sunlight cuts into the room.

 

 

•

Chapter 61: Epilogue

 

 

 

She was pulling the weeds up from the ground when she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. 

"Never thought I'd find you here!" Emily jogged up until she made contact with the fence surrounding the chicken coop. "I've gotten used to finding you at the cabin."

Claire shook the bangs out of her eyes—they were far too long and in desperate need of a trim—and waved at her neighbor.

"Anyway, I'm here because Haley asked me to ask you about a wine order she placed," Emily paused briefly to pull out a yellowed piece of paper from her back pocket. "A year and a half ago today!"

Claire opened her mouth to respond when Emily continued talking.

"Which is actually so funny because I remember the exact day she placed it! I was running late for work and had lost my charm bracelet again, despite tossing it into the everything-bowl the night prior. Have those ever been effective for you? I don't think they are for me because..."

Claire grinned at the animated digressions, watching the woman spiral into yet another topic. 

"Emily!" Claire interrupted with a curt laugh, her hands flying up in front of her, the weeds she'd gathered earlier still wound tightly around her fingers.

The one-sided discourse ended abruptly, and Emily gawked awkwardly at Claire. 

"Dear Yoba, there I go again! What were you saying?" Emily smiled sympathetically.

Dropping the weeds into her bucket, Claire dusted herself off then proceeded to twist her bangs over to one side. 

Turning, she took in the state of her wine shed and the greenhouse directly next to it. She forgot what it smelled like in either of them, and how it might have felt on her bare skin to leave the doors and windows open. Just enough to let the draft in as she worked tirelessly at planting and harvesting fruits. 

Claire gulped. She'd mostly—definitely—forgotten about all the orders the villagers had made a year before, including Haley's aged Melon wine with a baby blue ribbon that she'd specifically requested.

Or Jodi's second order of Strawberry wine with mint, but only two sprigs because the three Claire had used last time was one too many. 

And even though Evelyn was gracious, her six orders of Blackberry wine would have to wait at least another year as the fruit hadn't even begun sprouting yet.

It was then that she'd realized she didn't forget at all. If anything, the little details from everything around her had stuck with her over time, and now all she could do was stare at the lost potential in front of her. 

"I haven't thought about returning. Not once," she said, heart full of shame. "The entire year I've been with Leah, doing nothing and everything under the sun, I never thought about going back."

Emily's brows narrowed suspiciously. "But your animals are here."

"They are, which is why I still take care of them." Claire sighed, leaning down to snap more weeds out of the soil. "I don't have any intention of sleeping under that roof. Not anymore."

"Okay, then don't."

Claire stood up. "Don't?"

"Yeah! Who said you had to sleep here? You might have laid down roots in the cabin, but your greenhouse is still here. Why not repurpose the space, hire some people and turn it into a mini business so you're not required to come out here every day?" 

Claire scratched the back of her neck. "I guess that's an option."

Emily seemed proud of her suggestion, puffing out her chest and folding her arms. "Your people need you! Er, need your wine, anyway. You make the best."

"She's not wrong," another familiar voice added, and Claire turned to see Leah walking up from the path. 

When she got close enough, she pulled Claire close and planted a soft kiss on her temple. "Your contribution to this town makes everything flow smoothly. Notice how as soon as you stopped, the world turned to shit?"

Claire let out a heavy chuckle and lightly elbowed Leah in the stomach. "I'd like to think I was preoccupied with other things at the time."

"Either way," Emily continued, running her arm across her glistening forehead. "The town needs Claire again, and I'll be your first employee!"

"Oh yeah?" Claire laughed against Leah's shoulder, but her heart raced at the idea of her wine empire sprouting back to life. That, and not having to trek several times between the farm and the cabin sounded nice, too. 

"I'd love to!" Emily gestured to the farm, to the field. "I could harvest your fruit if you need me to, and I totally think I could convince Penny to come back and look after the cows and chickens."

Leah turned to Claire, sporting a 'what do you think about that?' expression on her face.

"I guess I'll have to consider that, Em."

"Woo!" Emily celebrated, jumping into the air with both arms raised above her head.

"I didn't say yes!"

"But you didn't say no!"

After laughing with one another, Claire sent her neighbor off with the promise that she would think about the idea. 

When Emily was simply a blip of blue in the distance, Leah sent a smirk in Claire's direction.

"What?" Claire prodded, returning to her weeding and trying her best to ignore the smell of manure that was wafting over to her nose. 

"I agree with her."

With a sigh, Claire finished her job and stared into the full bucket. "I agree with her too."

"No way!" 

"But just," she paused, turning back around to face her farmhouse. "Let me come up with a plan first, figure out what could work, then I'll think about reaching out to people to manage a business."

"I could always manage it for you?" Leah grinned, a hint of mischief slipping out with her words. "You're going to need all the help you can get, let's be honest."

"Sure," Claire snorted, feeling a wave of appreciation coursing through her body. "As long as I get you most days of the week."

Making their way back to the cabin, the two traded cunning remarks. 

"You act like I'm going to be commuting all the way to Zalmiszar's place and working 15-hour shifts in his cauldron," Leah threw her arms up in playful dismay.

A flash of lightning hit the spot directly in front of them, and the elvish omnispirit materialized inches away from their faces.

"Oh damnit!" Leah cursed, bringing her hands up to her mouth. "I forgot about that!"

Zalmiszar, layered from head to toe in sage-green and a teacup hovering under his nose, raised a pointed eyebrow at the women. "Though a surprise, this reunion is pleasurable."

"Hey, Z." Claire greeted her elder with a subtle bow of her head. "Long time no see."

The omnispirit returned the bow with a similar one, his ashen hair falling gracefully toward the emerald green grass.

"I'll meet you back at the house," Leah said, giving Claire a quick kiss goodbye and offering a small wave to Zalmiszar.

When she left and disappeared into the trees, Zalmiszar twisted his body until all his attention was fully Claire's. 

An awkward pause filled the immediate space and while Claire had lots to tell him, she wasn't sure where to start or even how to express her gratitude. 

The omnispirits contributed themselves, putting use to all three of their forms and ensuring Pelican Town would never have to be manipulated by Gareth again. 

Claire felt herself fumbling despite not even having started talking yet. She felt the words begin to outline along her tongue, spilling out so carelessly, she didn't have a chance to stop or even alter them.

"What you did for this town," she bubbled out, watching the elder omnispirit regard her stoically. "I just want to thank you for your help, Z." 

Zalmiszar, though resigned and stately as he was, gave Claire a smile. "Your thanks is accepted, dear Claire."

When another awkward moment passed, Claire was ready to continue her praise when the omnispirit dipped his head and started turning around.

"Wait!" she cried out after him. "I still have so much I want to say to you!"

Zalmiszar paused briefly, his profile displaying his stoicism the best.

"That is not necessary, Claire." He told her, and Claire stared at him incredulously. "We've done our part for Stardew Valley, and though emotional connection is not a foreign concept to me, I've no desire to be back here."

"Oh." Claire's gaze fell to the ground, unaware of Zalmiszar's face turning forlorn.

"You humans forget that I had found a brother in him. Before his destruction, all he'd known was pain. A pain all of us shared in, but were wholly unable to relate to."

"I understand," Claire said, and she did. "I'm sorry you lost a brother."

Another pause.

"A brother I had to put down. Perhaps the Valley is better off for it." Zalmiszar stayed quiet another moment longer before completing his turn and walking away from Claire.

"Will we ever see each other after this?" She inquired, hope fluttering in her chest despite the doubt that's already culminated.

"When you found me all those years ago, you, the Town's newest resident and avid explorer, I had all the reservations one could possibly conceive. I thought you were fearful in nearly every facet.”
I thought you were small, so small."

Claire's jaw ticked at the stirring memory. She knew he was right but gods, did he have to drive the knife in so deeply?

"Out of them all—Shane, who's initial recklessness did not impress me, and Leah, with her steadfast desperation to understand immediately that which could not be done—your trepidation honored me most."

Though her confusion rose and dropped, Claire let him continue.

Zalmiszar faced her once more, his hardened face giving way to shrouded compassion. The elder looked her over, a new, unrecognizable emotion flashing in his eyes. Something between admiration and sorrow.

"You are not fearful, Claire, and you are not small."

The woman felt herself breaking down, but for the sake of this reunion, which she had a feeling would be their last, she kept her composure.

She thought he had more to say. 'You'll be okay', she imagined him sending her off with. 'I'm just down the way', she'd hoped he'd tell her.

But when the omnispirit took his leave and the unsaid words with him, the sentiments hung between them like a tethered string Claire knew would soon come undone but had no inkling as to when she'd hear the snap.

He was leaving. And she wouldn't be seeing him again.

"Goodbye," she said for him, unable to put to bed this complex partnership without a merit of well wishes. 

In the far off distance, Magnus stood at the top of his tower. When she noticed him there, Claire waved.

He waved back.

 

•

 

Back at the cabin, Claire stood in front of the table and stared out the window. Summer was coming to a close, and she saw it in the way that Fall crept in slowly, kissing the tree leaves golden.

The blank piece of paper on the table also stared up at her, its edges collecting dust.

Just then, in one wordless swoop, Leah came in from behind and cradled Claire, her teasing mouth tickling the tender spot behind her ear.

"Is it time?" 

Claire sighed. "I think so."

"I'm so proud!" Leah exclaimed. "My girlfriend, a writer."

Claire turned around in amusement. "So that's what we're calling each other now?"

"I mean," Leah started, a shy smile creeping in. "That's what you are. Are you saying you want to be something else?" 

Claire smiled. "Girlfriend is just fine to me."

Winking, Claire's girlfriend turned towards the kitchen and started prepping for dinner. And feeling apprehensive, despite the solidification of her relationship with Leah, Claire pulled the chair back and sat in it.

Lifting the pencil, she brought the graphite to the top of the paper and wrote the following words she wouldn't ever be able to say in person.

𝘛𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘴,

She inhaled, keeping it there for a few seconds, and then letting it all out.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴—𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰. 𝘐𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘔𝘦, 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥.
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺? 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦? 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩'𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴?

𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘥𝘰. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩'𝘴 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘐𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

She lifted the pencil off the paper momentarily and found herself nodding. Then she returned, squeezing the pencil tightly between her fingers in an attempt to manifest the following:

𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥. 
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴? 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵... 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘴.

𝘈𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬. 

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘡𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘻𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩. 𝘊𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦. 
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘩.

She closed her eyes but forced herself to continue.

𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.
𝘔𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘈 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.
𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯. 
𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘰 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭.
𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦. 𝘈 𝘴𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘈 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦? 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳...
𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯, 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦.

𝘈𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘴, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘥. 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘤𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤.

𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵.

𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘛𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘺.
𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯. 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 (𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯). 

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳...

𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

Notes:

【ｓｏｕｎｄｔｒａｃｋ：】

* ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ ᵐᵉᵗ: ᵒᵘᵗʳᵒ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉⁿᶜⁱˡ ˡᵉᵍˢ *
* ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉʳ: ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸ ᵗᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵘⁱᶜⁱᵈᵉ *
* ʰᵒʷ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃʰ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ: ⁶⁰⁷ ᵇʸ ᵃᵇˢⁱⁿᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ *
* ʰᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵉⁿ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᵒᵏ *
* ˢʰᵃⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᶜʰᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶻᵃˡᵐⁱˢᶻᵃʳ: ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈʰᵃⁱˡ ᵇʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˡⁱᶠᵉ *
* ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜⁱᵐᵒʳʸⁿ: ᵈᵉᵐᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵛⁱᵒˡⁱⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵇⁱᵍ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᵇʸ ᵖᵘᶻᶻˡᵉ ⁽ⁱⁿˢᵗʳᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ⁾ *
* ʷʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃʰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ʳᵒᵒᵐ: ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃᵗʰ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ ᵇʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵘᵈˢ *
* ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᵈⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ: ᵗʰᵉʸ qᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵇʸ ˢᵏᵘˡˡᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉʳ *
* ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉʳ: ᵃ ˢˡᵒʷ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏ *
* ᵒᵐⁿⁱˢᵖⁱʳⁱᵗ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ: ᶠᵒʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉʳʸ ᵇʸ ᵉᵖⁱᶜ⁴⁵ *
* ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ'ˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢ: ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᶜᵃʳʸᵖᵒᵒˡᵖᵃʳᵗʸ *
* ʷʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃʰ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ: ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃˡᵉ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᵇʸ ˢʸᵐᵖʰᵒᶜᵃᵗ *
* ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ: ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵇʸ ᶜʲᵇᵉᵃʳᵈˢ *
* ᵃᵇⁱᵍᵃⁱˡ, ˢᵃᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵇ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵃʸᵒʳ ʰᵃʳᵛᵉʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗ: ᵉˡᵐ ᵇʸ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍⁱʳˡ *
* ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃʰ'ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉˡⁱᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵒʷⁿ: ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᵇʸ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢⁱᵈᵉ *

【ｔｈｅ　ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ：】

* ᶜˡᵃⁱʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᵇʸ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ʳⁱᵛᵉʳ *
* ˡᵉᵃʰ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ᵃᵘᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵘⁿⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵉᵖⁱᶜ⁴⁵ *
* ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵘⁿⁱᵐᵒˢ: ᵃˡⁱᵇⁱ ˡᵘˡˡᵃᵇʸ ᵇʸ ⁱˢᵃᵘʳ *
* ˢʰᵃⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ⁱ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᵉ ᵇʸ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳⁿᵘˢ *
* ᵃᵇⁱᵍᵃⁱˡ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵗⁱᵃ. *
* ᵉᵐⁱˡʸ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ⁱ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵇʸ ˢᵏⁱⁿˢʰᵃᵖᵉ *
* ᵖᵉⁿⁿʸ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ᵉᵛᵉʳˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸ ᵗᵘⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜʰᵉʷⁱᵉ *
* ʰᵃʳᵛᵉʸ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ˢᵉᵃʳᵒʷˢ *
* ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵐⁿⁱˢᵖⁱʳⁱᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ *
* ᵍᵃʳᵉᵗʰ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ: ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵇʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈʷᵃᵛᵉ *