“And you weren’t supposed to ‘fall’ in love with her, either, Lev. You were supposed to learn empathy for humans.”
I quicken my pace, muttering, “What a timely distinction, Celia. Score five points for you.” The rage wraps around me and fuses with my being. Glancing around me, I see nothing I can throw—not that it would make me feel any better, but at least it would give my hands something to do.
She strides behind me. “It’s so easy to judge him, isn’t it? You think it’s about what he took from you and that it must have been so easy, right?” She makes a growling sound I’ve never heard before and grabs my wrist, yanking me to the ocean’s edge.
“Have you lost your mind?” I snap, about to jerk free.
“No, but there is something you need to see before you judge any of us.” Then she drags me into the wetness, and we both plummet toward the Lower Realm before our wings pull out and temper the flight. Yes, I could battle her on this. I could stick with the feeling that Evan has betrayed me, but I know I should at least hear her out on this one. Besides, what else can I do? It’s not like I should be going on any sojourns at present, not with my mind in this state. Anyway, Celia may be an angel, but she is also the most stubborn angel I’ve ever met. When an idea jumps into her head, she’s already on track with it, and nobody is getting in her way.
I sense the chaos swirling within her, and it pretty much matches that inside of me. Both of us are adrift on emotions too close to those of humans to be comfortable. That probably has more to do with Elizabeth Moon than anything else but I wouldn’t change it, no matter how much my heart aches in her absence.
Normally, I enjoy the sensation of flight, but since waking up with no memory and having that memory restored, I have struggled with enjoying much because so much is in flux, and I can’t control it. Still, I try to calm myself as I follow Celia’s frantic descent, wondering what it is she wants to show me that she thinks is so important. The important thing is I know what happened between Elizabeth and myself. I just can’t make any of it better, and that kills me inside. How could I have tried to do something good only for it to turn out so bad?
Celia shifts course as we get drift toward the Lower Realm, and I look below at the sleepy little town of Hauser’s Landing. It’s the kind of town the word murder was never linked with. Until my “death.” It’s only when I see Celia diving low I realize where she is headed. Part of me wants to stop her, but I know we are about to have a conversation I’m really not prepared for, and that is precisely what she is counting on. She thinks that maybe if she hurls enough reality at me I’ll realize the mistakes I’m making and change my course. She ought to know better. Besides, I’m not even sure I know what my course is at present.
At the stretch of trees just ahead, Celia drops lower and finally lands us both at the cemetery. Beyond the copse of trees, I see lots of headstones, but only one of them catches my eye. My “sister” drags me toward it.
It’s only when we stop in front of it that she releases me. “This is why you have to let the past go, Lev. If this isn’t an important enough reason, I don’t know what is.” She gestures toward a medium-sized grey stone with my name and the “dates” of my existence on it. There’s a vase for flowers, and someone has settled a bouquet of scarlet roses in it. The flowers appear fresh and composed, as if someone has been here recently.
It’s strange to see there is a very human grave for me because I’m not human. Still, I know it’s part of the deception so people won’t realize we walk among them—that, and it is probably one of the only ways Elizabeth could handle that kind of a loss.
That thought strikes me hard, and I grit my teeth, trying to re-steady myself as an image of her kneeling before this grave, weeping, assaults me. It doesn’t take much to transform her features with grief, not when I’ve seen that kind of pain on her face.
I told my arms across my chest, and that’s when the realization hit me. “You did this because of Elizabeth, didn’t you?”
“Bingo!” Her tone is loud and angry. She paces a small circle around me and finally lets out a disgusted sigh. “No, I wasn’t thrilled with Evan’s plan, but between you trying to fly to the Lower Realm, half-cocked and not thinking, and her falling apart down there, none of us had a choice. You didn’t even have that human body anymore. You were forced from it when it died, so it’s not like you could have come to her and made things easier by just appearing.”
She shuts her eyes, allowing her chaos to rapidly spinning out of control, too. “It’s not that either of us was hard-hearted. We saw the misery for what it was, and none of us wanted things to end the way they did, but there were two options—your “death” or hers. Would you really have wanted it to end differently, like last time?
I stiffen, still staring at my headstone. “Of course not. She wasn’t even supposed to die that time, Celia. I failed her because I didn’t know she’d chosen as much.”
Celia steps up to me as a slight breeze toys with her curls. “And how could she not, Lev? Even in that lifetime, you were everything to her, and she knew that if you died, you wouldn’t come back. At least this way, the cycle would repeat and some version of her would have a chance to be with to you once again.”
I turn away from the stone and stare up at the heavens. “There has to be another way—a chance to make this right.”
Celia walks around me and sets a hand on my shoulder. “Time will make this bearable. That’s all you’ve got.”
I jerk free and glare at her. “That’s not an answer, Celia. It doesn’t matter that she’s only beginning her life and that lifespan is only fifty to seventy-five years. She’ll feel me missing for the rest of the time she’s breathing. And me, how long am I going to exist? Years beyond her lifetime, and yet you want me to just let her go and back away from this? It doesn’t work like that.”
Now I’m the one pacing. My breathing is too fast, and the chaos consumes me so completely I can’t think straight. All thoughts lead back to Elizabeth.
I whirl back to her. “This isn’t either of our faults. God wanted me to learn compassion and love for humans. And I have. But this…this is the result. Why is that right? I liked it better when I felt nothing!”
I stride away, expecting she will follow, but she doesn’t. Still, that doesn’t mean I feel alone. The past is always with me, and so is Elizabeth. I’ve never known regret, but this is something I deeply regret because perhaps had I not loved her, she would not hurt like this. Nor would I.
Without thought, I fly back to Elizabeth’s house. I make myself blend enough so I can slip through the door and into the house. As I enter the living room, Jimmie is packing boxes. Moving is probably his way of trying to help Elizabeth deal with all this, but knowing her as I do, I don’t think a change of scenery is going to make any of this easier. Still, at least he’s trying something.
He’s shoving books in boxes as I stand there, hovering near him, aware that while Jimmie is pretty observant, even if I didn’t blend as well as I should, he wouldn’t believe in me. For Jimmie, there is a very deliberate line between what exists and what doesn’t. Unfortunately, that isn’t always a good thing, but right now, I’m considering it a blessing.
From upstairs, we both hear the screaming, and it doesn’t take much to figure out Elizabeth is having another nightmare. The fact she’s sleeping in the middle of the day is far from comforting as well.
While I could easily beat Jimmie, I also know there isn’t anyhing I can do to comfort her, so there’s no point in worrying about getting there first. By the time I reach her doorway, Jimmie’s already draped his arms around her and tucks her head just below his chin. His face is red, probably from all the emotions he’s working so hard to restrain, and together, both of their bodies slowly rock back and forth as he makes comforting sounds, trying to quell her tears.
“Shhh, it’s all right, Lizzie. It’s just a nightmare.”
She tries to pull away, but he refuses to release her. “A nigh
tmare? That’s what you think I’m having?” She forces herself away from him. “No, this is the nightmare—being awake is the nightmare. I wish I never had to wake up again!”
I sag against the dresser, and when the mirror trembles slightly and the brush falls to the floor and thumps against the floor, that’s when I realize I am not blending nearly as well as I need to. I close my eyes and try harder.
“Don’t say that!” Jimmie commands, his voice rough with anguish. “I don’t ever want to hear anything like that come out of your mouth again! Do you hear me, Lizzie?” He tries to make her look at him, but she is turned in my direction, staring at the brush. No matter how much I want to be with her, right at that moment, I’m praying my blending is right because I don’t have a clue what I’m going to say if it isn’t, especially if she is the only one who can see me.
“What was that?” she asks, trying harder to lean in my direction.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jimmie grips her arm harder and tries to shake her attention loose so she will face him.
“Didn’t you see the brush fall to the floor?” She points at it.
“It doesn’t matter!” he snaps. “Look at me.” He slips his finger beneath her chip and forces her to gaze into his anguished eyes. “Don’t you ever say that again, Lizzie. Ever. Do you understand me?”
She averts her eyes, and I know she’s getting ready to make a promise she doesn’t agree with because it’s a lie. She knows even if she never blurs out something like that again it won’t stop her from feeling that way, and that’s what Jimmie really means to ask for.
She shakes her head. “I just want this emptiness to go away, Jimmie, and I don’t think it’s ever going to.”
He sets his hand on her knee. “Everybody feels that way when they lose somebody they love, Lizzie.” He looks around her room, still the same as it was when I was with her. “How come you haven’t started packing?”
She shrugs. “Maybe I’m not ready to leave.”
“Staying here won’t bring him back.” He nudges her meaningfully with his shoulder.
“And leaving won’t make me forget, Jimmie.” She looks around the room. “So why does it matter if we move?”
He shrugs. “I know a lot of people believe in ghosts, but I don’t. I don’t think places are haunted so much as people, and when they stay the same place something bad happens, all it does is remind them of what they’ve been through. I don’t think you could ever imagine falling in love again here, Lizzie, and even though I’m willing to bet it would happen, I think you need some time and distance from all this hurt to help you heal.”
I fold my arms across my chest and feel the breaking inside, wishing for her sake I knew a way to ease this pain.
She looks up at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know you hope I’m going to fall in love again, but I wouldn’t count on it, Jimmie. Maybe there are people who are lucky enough to find someone like Lev more than once in a lifetime, but I don’t think I’m one of them. He was the guy I was supposed to be with, and I’d rather be alone than try to find someone to replace him because that’s just not going to happen.”
Jimmie nods, and I can tell he’s worried by the frown tugging at his lips. Finally he just nods. “All right. So maybe you should get out of bed and pack up some of your stuff so we can leave Hauser’s Landing behind and start over somewhere new.”
She silently nods and stares ahead. While she manages to blink back the tears, the fact they still keep coming tells me Jimmie’s little pep talk has done nothing to comfort her. Yet I can understand that. Evan and Celia have gone the same route with me and had much the same effect. There are some things nothing blankets or calms.
Jimmie gives her shoulder a slight squeeze and ambles to the door. I feel the chaos gathering so strongly and swirling so fast it feels like it will sweep her away, so I sink down on the bed beside her, knowing even if I can’t reveal my presence, I can try to calm the chaos. I have to.
Looking at her face, I slide my hand over the top of hers and begin radiating calm, hoping doing so will ultimately soothe her. More tears. I frown and wonder if she can even feel what I’m offering. Or is her despair so great nothing touches it?
“Elizabeth,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me. Perhaps my words are for myself, anyway. “I know you are broken, and it’s my fault.”
More tears. She lifts her hand from mine and draws it across her face. I’m stunned at how my power seems not to affect her at all.
“I will find a way to make this right. I can’t bear to see you suffer so.”
Her blank stare continues, and the chaos is as it ever was, swirling violently in the dark waters of her heart.
Chapter Twelve
Unable to take the breaking within Elizabeth anymore, I leave as fast as I can and head to the only place that allows me peace so I can think in isolation. I fly into the sky and just pause there. In darkness so thick I can lose myself, I linger, waiting for the peace to find me. I try to accept what has gone before and know it is for the best, but some part of me does not believe that. Some part of me will never believe that. Though Evan will tell me there is no mistake in how things work out, I can’t see the pattern in this. I can’t understand it. It’s never bothered me before because I’ve never had a weakness for humans until Elizabeth. And now, having had feelings, I can’t just wipe them away as though they never existed and hope this chaos within us both will eventually pass. I don’t see that happening.
Evan has no such qualms about his faith. Evan is an unshakable rock, but he has not been put in the position of learning to love then having that love destroyed. How am I supposed to just walk away and go about life as I always have? I can’t even go about my sojourning without thinking of Elizabeth and dealing with the pain.
Time seems to suspend itself as I hang there and try to reason through all of this. And then it comes to me, a possible answer to my problem. Theresa knew how to obliterate the wall that Evan put up. Is it possible she knows some other things that could help me? Some way to undo the past or change things to make them more bearable? I’m not asking for something to make all this better, just something I can handle, something I can be at peace with. I do not think of this for myself, but for Elizabeth. I will find a way to abide this pain, but I can’t simply sit back and watch Elizabeth be so consumed with a burden that should not be hers to bear.
As I shift directions and begin flying back to Theresa’s house, I try to ignore the voices that suddenly seem to rise and tell me to reconsider. I don’t understand why I feel this way about that particular grouping of angels, but something feels off. Part of me wonders if it is a memory I do not have, yet Theresa restored my memory, so that should not be it, and they are probably the only ones who can help me with this. I do not believe that Evan would. He does not question what he does not understand, and before this, I never would have, either, but my emotions are so snarled that all I can do is try to find a way to fix it.
When I get to the back yard and enter, I find Sarah sitting in the living room on the sectional. She is bent and sobbing, rocking back and forth. She has wrapped her arms around her abdomen, as if that will keep everything together, but I know it won’t. Still, it troubles me to see her like this, even if we do not see eye to eye on most things.
“Sarah?” I say, stepping toward her. “What’s wrong?”
At the sound of my voice, her head jerks up, and I see her face is smeared with tears. Her eyes are red. The pain on her face is almost palpable.
“You….” She tries to speak with a venomous tone, but the chaos swirling within her won’t let the anger rule. There are too many emotions vying for control, and it’s not clear which will win.
“Are you all right?” I ask, not sure what else to do given her reaction to my presence. Will stepping nearer only infuriate her? What do I do?
“As if you care.” She savagely brushes her hand across her face and straightens. For whatever reason, she finds offe
nse in me, and since I have my memory back and it does not contain traces of her, I am at a loss for how to interpret this reaction.
“While it’s imminently clear you do not like me, I’m not sure why. I only mean to help.”
“Do you, now?” Her tone is flat as she stands on unsteady legs. “That’s funny because this,” she says, holding her tear-soaked hands toward me, “is your fault—all your fault.”
She starts to walk away, but I wrap my fingers around her arm and hold her in place. “I don’t understand, Sarah. I don’t even remember you.”
She laughs, and the hard, brittle sound reminds me of a dying bird’s last call. “Of course you don’t, Lev. There are memories you may never get back. But you remember the important thing, don’t you? You remember your precious Elizabeth, and you’d do anything to save her. It’s the rest of us who have to fend for ourselves.”
She jerks free and flies out of the house, leaving me standing there with my mouth open, wondering what I’m still missing. What harm did I do her, and why can’t I remember?
Even though she’s fleeing far from me, I can feel the chaos within her spinning violently, worse than I feel, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“What happened with Sarah?” Theresa asks, stepping into the room. She’s still looking over her shoulder in the direction of Sarah’s flight. Her long, dark hair spills down her back like strands of black silk.
I shake my head. “I have no idea. She is angry with me, but I don’t remember why. She seems to know something I don’t, as though not all my memories have returned.”
“Really?” She gestures to the seat and heads toward the sectional where she sits.
“Would you know something about that?” I ask, following.
She shakes her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I reversed Evan’s wall as best I could, but it’s possible there are traces remaining, causing you to forget.” She looks at the carpet in front of her. “It doesn’t really matter if you have that memory or not. I know why she’s so upset.”