“Someone crossed over,” Glorianna said, “but not in a customary way. And the Eater almost crossed over with that person.”
“Almost.” Lee wasn’t asking a question so much as demanding the answer he wanted to hear.
Glorianna nodded. “Almost. The dissonance would be clanging through the currents of power if the Eater had come into one of my landscapes.”
“It had slipped in before. Made an anchor point small enough to escape your detection until you were almost on top of that piece of ground.”
“I know, but this is different. I don’t think It was trying to enter my landscapes. I think…” Glorianna frowned. “A battle of wills. Maybe the person wasn’t trying to bring the Eater in. Maybe the person was trying to get away, but that wouldn’t explain the feeling of Heart’s Justice.”
“There is such a thing as spontaneous Heart’s Justice,” Lee said reluctantly.
Glorianna just looked at him.
“Bridges don’t talk about it, but we know it happens. If two incompatible people cross a resonating bridge at the same time—especially if one person is trying to force the other to cross over to an…unsuitable…landscape—Ephemera sometimes responds with Heart’s Justice, sending each person to a different landscape. In those cases, it seems that where the will is focused is equally important as what landscapes resonate with the person’s heart.”
“You have a mother and a sister who are Landscapers, and you’ve never mentioned this.”
Lee shrugged, looking wary. “It’s not talked about. It just seemed better if everyone believed Heart’s Justice didn’t happen unless a Landscaper initiated it.” Then he gave her a look that wasn’t brother to sister but Bridge to Landscaper. “Besides, doesn’t a kind of Heart’s Justice happen every time a person crosses a resonating bridge? When you cross one of those bridges, the landscape where you end up may be a place you’ve never seen before even if it does resonate with your heart.”
He had a point. And maybe it was one of those bits of knowledge that seemed so obvious it was assumed everyone knew about it. At least, all the Landscapers and Bridges who kept Ephemera balanced and connected as best they could.
Lee stepped up beside her and studied the access points to the dark landscapes. “What are you sensing now?”
“Nothing. I’m fairly sure whoever crossed over ended up in one of the dark landscapes, but that heart has vanished in the overall resonances.”
“A person who has died wouldn’t leave a resonance, and if there was a fight with the Eater…” Lee lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.
“Even so, I’d better get a message to Sebastian in case any…unusual strangers…show up in the Den.”
“I can do that,” Lee said. “You’re not going to feel easy about leaving the garden for a while.”
She wrinkled her nose and smiled to acknowledge the truth of that.
Lee gave her a one-armed hug. “Just remember to go back to the house and get something to eat. And bring a shawl or jacket back out with you. It’s getting too cool at night to be outdoors without one.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“That’s brother.”
“Sorry, I could have sworn the tone said mother even if the timbre of the voice was too deep.”
“If you tell me I’ll make a great uncle, I will wrestle you to the ground and push your face in the mud.”
Glorianna blinked. Clearly this wasn’t the time to offer an opinion about such things, even if she’d thought to say anything.
She couldn’t recall what she said to him in response, but it must have been satisfactory since he left, intending to stop by their mother’s house on the way to the Den.
“Well,” she said to the garden as she deadheaded flowers on a few of the autumn plants. “Well, I’m sure he’d be a fine uncle as long as he doesn’t depend on me to make him one.” Which made her wonder why he’d even be chewing on the question.
Which made her think of one reason why he would.
Glorianna grinned. Sebastian a daddy?
Then the grin shifted into a pout. Lynnea should have told her. Even if it was too early to be sure, Lynnea should have said something to her or Nadia. Because, obviously, Lee had been given a hint.
Would giving Lynnea a present of baby blanket and booties be too unsubtle a request for information?
A tremor went through the currents of power—there and gone. But it was enough to remind her that something strange had happened and it was best to be cautious until she discovered who had entered her landscape in an unexpected way—and why.
The Eater of the World huddled in a cave within the water landscape It had shaped long ago. Its coloring matched the stones in the cave; Its only movement was the two tentacles extending beyond the cave, undulating in a way that made fish think they had found a meal when, in truth, they were about to become one.
Simple minds. Simple creatures. It had nothing to fear from these things. It had no enemies in this landscape.
The male who had escaped It was dangerous. The male had powers that made It uneasy because those powers stirred old memories too vague to be useful and too strong to be dismissed.
Not quite like the True Enemy, whose resonance had filled the male’s heart, allowing him to pull away from the Eater’s landscapes. No, not like the True Enemy…but like the Old Enemy. The ones who had locked It inside Its landscapes.
But It was safe here. The male could not swim so deep to find It here. And the True Enemy did not know how to find It within Its own landscapes.
It was safe here. It would eat and rest. Then It would go back to the landscapes filled with busy human minds. It would listen to the fears revealed in the twilight of waking dreams—and It would take more things from the natural world and shape them into nightmares. Fear would have a name and become stronger for the naming.
Fear already had a name: The Eater of the World.
Pleased that It had remembered this, It left the cave. The Landscaper It had ensnared in the bonelovers’ landscape was probably nothing more than bones by now, but bringing those bones back to the cottage beside the hill would create more shadows in the people living in that village.
Especially in the hearts that would be pleased to see the bones.
Caitlin ran across sand that never ended toward a horizon that never changed. Light filtered through the bruise-colored sky, but she couldn’t find the sun, so she had no way to tell which direction she was heading, and the only assurance she had that she wasn’t walking in circles was the fact that she hadn’t crossed her own footsteps or the lines and squiggles she occasionally made in the sand with the hoe handle for the sole purpose of showing herself where she had been just in case she was walking in circles.
Feeling the stitch in her side flare up again, she slowed to a walk, breathing hard, craving water. But when she looked back, she saw the dark shapes heading toward her. Closing the distance.
Can’t, Caitlin thought as she stabbed the hoe handle into the sand and leaned on it. Can’t run anymore. Need water, need rest, need a way out of this place, need…help. Lady of Light, I need help.
She looked toward the horizon and let out a sobbing laugh. More dark shapes. More of those creatures coming for a feast. Coming for her.
Caitlin closed her eyes.
Even if she could continue to outrun them, what would be the point? Survival? For what? There was no food, no water. She was going to die here, one way or the other. And even if she could get back to Raven’s Hill with a snap of her fingers, living there wasn’t much better than being lost in this place. Yes, she had Aunt Brighid and the garden, but her life was as barren as the sand.
I don’t want to go back to Raven’s Hill. And I don’t want to die here. I need help.
The ground beneath her vibrated like she was standing on a giant tuning fork.