I find hidden worlds everywhere. Tiny ones in tea cups, spelled out in bloated leaves to weave fortunes. Quiet ones under bridges, whispering riddles and bubbling bargains. Some I discover beneath the thunder of crashing waves, seeping into porous cliff faces. Others are plain as day, staring back at me through reflective glass.<\/p>\n
The only one I wanted to find was the one that took you away.<\/p>\n
No matter how many worlds I discovered, that one eluded me.<\/p>\n
I paced around the ancient oak in rings, just as mom taught me, murmuring the \u2018right\u2019 words to coax out hidden depths within the brittle bark. My eyes traced the rotten crack splitting the trunk in a long, vertical fissure. I could imagine stepping through.<\/p>\n
Mom had warned us not to enter other worlds. Gazing was safe, but trespasses rarely ended well.<\/p>\n
My ringed steps tightened their circuit around the oak, heart fluttering in my chest as browned leaves crunched to dust under my toes. This was surely the world you inhabited now. I whispered the final phrase, hand grazing the rough trunk, thumb curling just inside the deep crack.<\/p>\n
Whispers deep within the tree answered back; far deeper than a tree ought to be.<\/p>\n
Holding my breath as if ready to plunge into the ocean, I stuck my head into the fissure.<\/p>\n
A shiver ran down my spine as if someone dumped a bucket of warm water on my head. Stars rained down like flakes of snow, sparkling tails hissing as they passed my ears. I couldn\u2019t tell if I was too big for this world, or if the stars were just that small.<\/p>\n
A golden carp swam by as if the black void were nothing but ink in water. Its tail trailed streams of gold like honey, and a strange buzzing filled the air. The longer I stayed, the stronger the buzzing grew. It grew and grew until the fish itself seemed to vibrate in my wavering vision, my eyes watering as I strained to see more in this world of ink and fallen stars.<\/p>\n
Something hot leaked from my eyes, but it was too thick to be tears. The popping in my brain turned to crackling like it was cooking.<\/p>\n
Strong hands on my shoulders yanked me out, and I gasped and sputtered, coming up for air I hadn\u2019t realized I needed. Still, my heart beat more from exhilaration than panic.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
My brother\u2019s deep voice was laced with more than irritation. Now that you\u2019re gone, there\u2019s always a touch of fear in Samuel\u2019s tone.<\/p>\n
\u201cLooking for dad,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou aren\u2019t going to find him in a tree.\u201d Samuel reached out to wipe my cheeks. His hands came away red. \u201cYou were supposed to be helping me check the traps.\u201d He was trying to hide that he was worried, as if I wouldn\u2019t see. I always let him think he succeeded.<\/p>\n
\u201cBetter to look there than nowhere,\u201d I muttered.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne day, you\u2019re going to peek in a crack and fall straight through the center of the world.\u201d<\/p>\n
Anger prickled at the back of my scalp, white-hot and indignant. Samuel didn\u2019t have the right to lecture me. He gave up looking into other worlds when you left. I didn\u2019t understand why; he was better than me at finding hidden places, other realms. If I had his help, I\u2019d find you in no time. I think he likes being in charge now.<\/p>\n
After promising to do something productive with my day, I climbed our cabin\u2019s steps as Samuel trudged back out into the woods with his bow in hand, quiver slung over his shoulder. Your flannel shirt hung on a nail just inside the door, breeze flapping the red and black checkered sleeve in greeting. I took it down and pulled it on, hugging myself and inhaling pine and cedar, imagining it was your arms embracing me.<\/p>\n
The pockets were deep enough to use for pine nut picking. There was a section of the woods to the west where I usually found a decent amount. The fact that the disappearing hut was in that direction was just a happy coincidence.<\/p>\n
Months had bled by and I had already searched all the worlds we used to peek into together. None of them held your buttery laugh or your strong, broad frame. I tried to swallow the burning in my throat. The emptiness in my chest cavity grew more cavernous by the day and I feared examining it too closely. Samuel called it denial.<\/p>\n
Maybe Nona would have some advice.<\/p>\n
Pockets packed with enough nuts to satisfy Samuel\u2019s questions later, I snuck around the pines, listening for buzzing. The disappearing hut had a beehive dangling from the porch eaves. If the front of the hut could be called a porch. No bees meant no hut.<\/p>\n
My footsteps muted by pine needles, I crept around rotten logs frosted with blue mold and fungi. Ears straining, I pushed deeper into the woods. A gentle vibration tickled my ears, strengthening as I followed a line of tiny toadstools on the forest floor. A fuzzy bee landed on my sleeve, checking that I was indeed no flower before moving on. The toadstools trail ended, and I found the hive nestled within strategically folded branches.<\/p>\n
It should be far too cold for bees now, yet they hummed merrily in the hive, supported by whatever magic Nona used to keep the area around her hut in perpetual summer.<\/p>\n
Hut was a loose term for Nona\u2019s abode. Maybe it was a hut once, but a pair of sugar pines had swallowed it up and now only faint traces of the outside structure remained. Knotted bark outlined a door in one tree and I crept up to peek in the round window at its center, absent of glass.<\/p>\n
You always warned me to be respectful of Nona; she dabbled in too much magic and wasn\u2019t one to trifle with. Samuel still chops her wood now that you\u2019re gone, in exchange for honey and herbs. She gives me sweets and shares coffee with Samuel, but I don\u2019t know who she drinks her scotch with now.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t find him in there,\u201d a voice croaked behind me.<\/p>\n
I turned. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nona\u2019s face crinkled in a leathery smile, teeth patched with specks of gold. \u201cCome for a bit of honeycomb?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded and stepped aside. Nona shuffled forward, her body stooped under an invisible weight. She unwound a shawl, tasseled with beads that wound around her head and shoulders, beckoning me in. Mom used to tell us stories about witches luring children into homes, but Nona wasn\u2019t that kind of witch. She might be subtle, sometimes sneaky, but she didn\u2019t eat kids. Or at least, she had never tried to eat me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn you go,\u201d Nona said, holding the bark door open to admit me.<\/p>\n
I slipped into the tree trunk, no longer surprised to find the inside a little more roomy than it should be. This was Nona\u2019s hut, after all; the tree had no business dictating its dimensions. Roots of all varieties hung from the ceiling, some I had never seen before, and moths flitted between the tied bunches. Moss clumped between tiles on the floor and grew up the walls and across the kitchen counter.<\/p>\n
Nona stepped around a pair of yellow rain boots and a rocker to the counter that divided the sitting room from her kitchen. She set a kettle on her stove and waved for me to sit down.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, you\u2019ve been busy,\u201d she said, leaving the water to boil and opening a jar of honeycomb that sat on the cluttered counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t say that,\u201d I said, feeling guilty. \u201cSamuel\u2019s been way more busy. I could be more help.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nona chuckled. \u201cIf the trees tell it right, you have been very busy. Looking for something? Or, perhaps, someone?\u201d<\/p>\n
I bit my lip, turning to the rose-patterned couch in the sitting room, faded with age. A faun lay curled on a low wooden table, tail twitching in sleep. Nona woke it and shooed it down a narrow corridor I wasn\u2019t allowed to explore. We always stayed in the front room beside the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Nona placed a small chunk of honeycomb on a chipped porcelain saucer rimmed with gold and handed it to me. \u201cHow does Samuel feel about that?\u201d she asked, licking her sticky fingers as she sat down on a sagging easy chair with far too many throw pillows.<\/p>\n
I picked up the treat with thumb and pointer finger, and nibbled on it before answering. \u201cHe wants me to stop.\u201d My face warmed as my jaw tightened. He didn\u2019t have to say it. Every tired look he tossed my way, each sigh he issued when I suggested a new place to look. The amount of times he followed me, held me back.<\/p>\n
The kettle began to whistle and Nona hopped back up to make her tea\u2014she knew I didn\u2019t like it. When she returned, she wasn\u2019t smiling. \u201cI can understand why.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat the honeycomb back on the saucer, the heat in my face increasing. Was she really taking Samuel\u2019s side? \u201cYou agree with him?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nona frowned. \u201cYou remember what happened, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
My fingers curled to form fists And I glanced away, trying to find the faun that had disappeared down her hall.<\/p>\n
Nona hummed. \u201cI\u2019m not someone to go to for advice, child. I was far too reckless in life.\u201d She studied me over her teacup. \u201cI will say that if you keep traveling down this path, you are going to have to choose.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned back to her. \u201cChoose?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSamuel or your father.\u201d<\/p>\n
No. No, I refused to accept that. If I believed hard enough, wanted it bad enough, I would find a way to keep you both. If I could find the right world, I knew you could figure something out.<\/p>\n
I hadn\u2019t gone far enough, Nona said. You must be in a world that was harder to reach, like in the fairytales mom used to tell us when we were young. Somewhere meant to test my bravery and resolve to bring you home.<\/p>\n
Firehawks nested high in the craggy peaks south of our cabin and I bet there was something secret they guarded. A world strong enough to keep you from me. Samuel wouldn\u2019t want me to go, so I snuck out after he left to check and reset his traps. Weak golden light leaked through the forest\u2019s twisted branches. Firehawks leave with the dawn to hunt. If I timed it just right, I should be able to search around their nests before one of them made it back.<\/p>\n
I crept out of the cabin\u2019s small glen and up game trails we used to walk with you. Samuel hunts there alone now. I have been too busy to help much.<\/p>\n
Bringing you home is more important.<\/p>\n
The peak was steep, and the trail chipped into its side snaked back and forth in a way that put me on edge. Literally. I could hear the sharp cries of the Firehawks before I saw them soar away toward the tree canopy; I pressed my back to the prickly stone, which snagged at your flannel shirt. An eddy of wind swirled above me. Downy feathers in warm colors drifted to land in my snarled hair.<\/p>\n
I froze. The nests should be empty now. My feet edged up the path, my clothes clinging to the cliff as I hugged it. I thought I heard scraping behind me, but no animal was foolish enough to wander close to Firehawk territory. Once my head crested the tip of the peak, I peered across ground cradling roosts half the size of our cabin. In a nest built from branches thicker than my arm, a baby Firehawk preened its feathers, cooing like a cockatrice.<\/p>\n
I should turn back. But it hadn\u2019t noticed me. The youngling was twice my size, beak a jeweled green and sharp as its matching talons, made for tearing flesh and bone. I held my breath, casting a whisper into the wind, sending out a net of feelers to find realms hidden from our eyes.<\/p>\n
There.<\/p>\n
Under the nest to the right of the baby, something tugged on my invisible hook. A world glimmering and bright, winking from the shadow cast by the rising sun. I saw a flash of silvery scales, pearlescent wings. This gateway was temporary, fleeting. If I hesitated, it would vanish. I glanced at the Firehawk again, but it was distracted by something in its nest, pecking and cooing.<\/p>\n
This was my test of bravery.<\/p>\n
After a few steadying breaths, I slid a foot closer to my target, watching the baby tense for a moment before resuming its game. Another foot and then another. My heart hammered, eyes darting from the occupied nest to my destination, and then to the sky that would herald the return of watchful parents. My skin tingled again with excitement at the threat of death, feeling closer to you with every movement.<\/p>\n
A hand seized my arm, pulling back. Thank god another hand clamped over my mouth at the same time because I couldn\u2019t stop the automatic yelp that escaped.<\/p>\n
\u201cKat, are you trying to get killed?\u201d Samuel\u2019s coarse voice rasped in my ear as he inched us back to the cliff\u2019s edge.<\/p>\n
My eyes widened as the young Firehawk spotted us, plume of flaming feathers standing up on alert. It opened that beautiful beak and let out a cutting shriek. Samuel groaned and pulled us back over the lip of the peak and, his hand in mine, rushed us down the narrow path. Distant cries responded to the baby\u2019s distress call above and the skies reddened with the wings of predators prepared to defend their young.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was handling it just fine,\u201d I said to him. \u201cYou got us caught. You don\u2019t have to follow me everywhere!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd did you remember newly nesting Firehawks create pitfalls around their nests to protect them?\u201d Samuel shouted over his shoulder, not even attempting to contain his anger. His hand was shaking.<\/p>\n
Somehow, I had forgotten that. A few more steps and that could have been the end of me. If I had been unlucky enough to step in one. \u201cThere was a world. A new one, fleeting, just below a nest.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKat\u2014\u201d But he didn\u2019t continue arguing.<\/p>\n
A Firehawk had spotted us, dive-bombing with talons bared. Samuel pushed me to the ground, and he grabbed an arrow from his quiver. As the bird reached him, he jabbed the point of the arrow up to ward off the predator. It nicked the bird in the breast as two claws raked down Samuel\u2019s arm, tearing his gray flannel sleeve and biting into his flesh.<\/p>\n
He cried out as I screamed his name, pushing off the ground. But he shook his head, pointing farther down the path. \u201cGo!\u201d he shouted. \u201cI\u2019m right behind you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rushed down the path, heading for the tree cover, darting furtive glances behind to make certain that Samuel kept his word. He kept the arrow out, refusing to kill his attacker, only warding it away. Samuel respected the Firehawks, dangerous as they were. They protected the forest from worse things. He caught two more talons in the arm before the flaming bird conceded to leave him be, disliking his arrow jabs.<\/p>\n
Samuel was silent as we picked our way through the trees, briefly letting me wrap strips torn from my inner shirt around his bleeding arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing too deep,\u201d I said. \u201cBut we need to see Nona to make sure it doesn\u2019t get infected.\u201d<\/p>\n
Samuel just nodded. He didn\u2019t speak again until we were safely through the trees and back in the cabin\u2019s clearing.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to stop this, Kat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut this could be the world!\u201d I argued.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt isn\u2019t.\u201d His cold tone cut at my heart and my frustration grew.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow would you know? All you think about is chopping wood and hunting. You gave up looking at anything that wasn\u2019t right in front of your face when dad left.\u201d Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. \u201cThis world was different from the others. New, exciting. If you helped me, I\u2019m sure\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKat, look at me.\u201d He gripped my shoulders, pulling me closer. I averted my eyes when I saw water welling behind his. \u201cDad didn\u2019t leave on some mystical adventure,\u201d Samuel said. \u201cHe didn\u2019t step off into fairyland, drawn in by magic. Dad\u2019s dead. He\u2019s not coming back. Stop trying to follow him there. Let him go.\u201d<\/p>\n
I balled up my fists, trying to force the words to bounce back out of my head after they entered. \u201cStop it! You just like being in charge!\u201d<\/p>\n
I tore away from Samuel, wriggling out of your flannel shirt and past his neatly stacked wood, into the thick of the forest. My knuckles ground against my ears while my feet thumped over gnarled roots and thorny underbrush.<\/p>\n
You said you were just going to another world, like the ones we marveled at in hushed tones. It didn\u2019t matter that you said it when you were far too weak to leave your bed, didn\u2019t matter that your body was now encased in a pine box within the earth\u2019s embrace next to mom.<\/p>\n
That wasn\u2019t really you anymore.<\/p>\n
You used to say that mom was in one of those worlds, that she hadn\u2019t just died when I was little, she had passed into a beautiful fairytale realm. Part of me knew it wasn\u2019t true, but I still smiled every time you pretended to see her when we would world gaze.<\/p>\n
The soles of my shoes slapped against the ground and I realized I had made it out of the woods and to the dark banks of Saltwater Cliffs. I had already looked for you in the caverns there, but something told me to look again. The ocean churned and spewed froth as it crashed against the towering rock face. I made my way to the jagged opening close by.<\/p>\n
Giggles gurgled between stalagmites stretching to meet their partners on the ceiling. The laughter was faint enough to mix with the drip of cool water and muffled fury of the sea. But you taught me how to listen for effervescent voices\u2014using a careless ear and half a thought. If I listened too hard, they would slip away. As the voices solidified, I recognized danger in the dark merriment caressing the slick stone walls. My heart flickered with excitement.<\/p>\n
Eel maidens. Malevolent as they were merry. Green bodies of women that grayed at the waist, shifting to a long serpentine tail. They sat at the edge of a deep pool lit by the otherworldly glow of another place and time, braiding shells into their wet weeded locks.<\/p>\n
The last time I saw them, Samuel was there to pull me back, like he always did. But he didn\u2019t want me to find you; he\u2019s not as brave as I am.<\/p>\n
The sounds of my gritted footsteps froze the maids in place, their predatory eyes shooting to find me in the shadows, small and desperate. Their lithe forms relaxed, tails waving in a shimmer of charcoal scales.<\/p>\n
\u201cPretty child, why are you crying?\u201d one of them asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you looking for him?\u201d another said, blue lips teasing a smirk.<\/p>\n
My heart leaped at the question. They knew you. \u201cYes,\u201d I rasped, stepping forward, ignoring my trembling fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can take you,\u201d the first one said. \u201cIt\u2019s a long journey, but if you are strong, you\u2019ll make it.\u201d She extended a delicate hand, offering my heart\u2019s desire.<\/p>\n
At last.<\/p>\n
I would see your smile again, inhale the scent of evergreen and earth as you hug me, the scruff of your beard tickling my cheek.<\/p>\n
My hand fell into the clutch of webbed fingers, slime coating my skin, yet the eel maiden\u2019s grip was ironclad. Her grin turned wicked the moment she had me, arm slithering up to hook behind my neck.<\/p>\n
Face first, I plunged into the icy pool, saltwater clogging my throat as I inhaled from shock. My legs kicked out behind me, but a powerful tail curled around to pin them together. Gentle giggles turned to deep cackles, and my body grew sluggish, pushing against the weight of more than just water. I tried to relax; they were taking me to you, to the only place we could be together again. I could accept that. It was what I had truly been searching for. If I couldn\u2019t find you in life, I would find you in death.<\/p>\n
The eel maiden jerked, tail thumping against something solid before wriggling away. Warm, thick arms wrapped around me and I smiled, the world growing dim.<\/p>\n
Dad.<\/p>\n
I tried to hug you back, but I was so cold. So tired\u2026<\/p>\n
Hard pressure on my chest jarred me back to the cavern floor and I spat out the sea, sputtering as I gulped in air. When I reached for you, I found Samuel instead, eyes rimmed red, the beginnings of a tawny beard dripping with water. His hands were pushing against my chest, but as soon as our eyes met, he gasped and pulled me into his arms. They were running with blood from his earlier wounds. The bandages I made must have fallen off when he saved me. Samuel didn\u2019t seem to care.<\/p>\n
\u201cEel Maidens?\u201d Samuel was soaked and shivering, but he held tight to me. \u201cAnd you wonder why I follow you so close.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey said they could take me to him.\u201d It sounded so dumb when I said it aloud. Eel Maidens said anything you wanted them to say.<\/p>\n
\u201cKat. The day you find the world our father entered is the day you leave our world for good. I can\u2019t lose you too.\u201d His fingers dug into my arms, but I didn\u2019t complain. The sound of his desperation was easing my own. \u201cPlease. Please don\u2019t leave me alone,\u201d he whispered, voice cracking. \u201cI\u2019m not strong enough for that.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had thought Samuel was strong enough for anything. He supported us both while I drifted in grief, pulling me out of harm\u2019s way each time I strayed too close to you.<\/p>\n
My lips wavered at the fear he didn\u2019t try to hide this time. I finally gave in to mine, sobbing and biting down into Samuel\u2019s shoulder to quiet the pain in my heart. The truth was, I wasn\u2019t as brave as Samuel. I had to duck into fantastic places, chase after your phantom, tell myself you were just a few steps out of reach.<\/p>\n
Samuel could face the world without you, stay strong in a realm far too cold. I still needed to learn how.<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything feels less without him,\u201d I said. \u201cThere\u2019s too much space in our house. Too many cracks in our lives where he should be.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll we can do is work to fill the gaps,\u201d Samuel said. \u201cBut I can\u2019t do it alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alone. Samuel felt alone too? Had I been viewing my grief all wrong? Experiencing it separately while we both suffered. I took Samuel\u2019s calm demeanor as strength I didn\u2019t share. But he was just pretending to be strong for me.<\/p>\n
Nona said I would have to choose.<\/p>\n
I ached for you, dad, but you were in a place beyond our reach, the same place mom was now. If I left too, Samuel would have no one to be strong for.<\/p>\n
I slipped my hand in his, both of us soaked, shaking from more than just the cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d I whispered. \u201cI\u2019ll stay.\u201d <\/p>\n
Erin Swann is a lifelong lover of fantasy and space adventures. She holds an MFA in Education and works as an art teacher, feeding the imaginations of others while fueling her own creativity. Her work has been published by Factor Four Magazine, The Metaworker, and Cloaked Press. You can learn more about her at www.swannscribbles.com<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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