Bones of Faerie - Janni Lee Simner [46]
“So that's the Arch,” Allie whispered.
Just like in my visions. Just like on Caleb's disk. “Mom,” I said, and tried to walk faster.
My legs wouldn't listen. It was all I could do to keep lifting first one, then the other. Rebecca's sling dug into my shoulder. The road climbed toward the top of the bluffs. Up ahead, another road met it.
This crossroads formed a larger clearing than the last. Slabs of black stone shone in the sun. I staggered as I neared its center, but no shadows of the dead reached for me from under this hill. No visions filled my sight. Ash and cypress stretched shadow branches toward us, but the clearing was too wide. The shadows couldn't reach.
I fell to my knees and let my voice go silent. Maybe I could afford to rest here, just for a moment.
Matthew knelt beside me. I leaned, trembling, into his arms, barely remembering to shield him from Rebecca with my own arms as I did. I was so very tired.
“Liza.” Matthew's arms tightened around me. He smelled of rain and wet wool. “You got us through.”
I shook my head. “Not yet.” There was still more forest and more shadow between us and the Arch. We had to keep walking. I stumbled to my feet, took a few steps, and fell again. Allie cried out. This time she and Matthew both helped me lie down.
I tried to sit up and felt Matthew's firm hand on my shoulder. “If anyone could go on it'd be you, Liza. But even you need to rest after a night like that.”
I shook my head, but when I closed my eyes, I couldn't find the energy to open them again.
“Don't worry,” Matthew said. “I'll keep watch.”
I didn't have the strength to protest any further. Yet even in sleep I felt the trail beneath my feet and saw shadows reaching for me out of the dark.
∗ ∗ ∗
I woke what seemed moments later and found the sun past noon. I shifted Rebecca's weight gently as I sat up. Her cold hand brushed my cheek.
Matthew handed me a water bottle. I drank deeply. My throat hurt when I swallowed. “Thank you.” My voice came out scratchy and dry.
“Thank you,” Matthew said. “For keeping us alive last night.”
Allie slept on a blanket beside us, her face resting on one hand. Tallow was pressed up against the girl's back with a paw tangled in her hair, which had mostly fallen out of its braid.
The tree shadows were gone now that the sun was up, and any human shadows remained beneath the earth, beyond calling or wanting to be called. This crossroads was nowhere near as bad as the other one, whether because fewer people had died here or because they'd died more completely, I didn't know.
I stood, stretching my legs—and caught my breath. From the hilltop I clearly saw both River and Arch.
The River lay downslope to the east, so close I almost could have shot an arrow to it. The Mississippi—it made the Meramec look like little more than a creek. By the near shore willows trailed branches into the water. The far shore was a half mile away, maybe more. Between the banks green-brown water flowed relentlessly south, ribbons of light rippling on its surface. I stared, but no visions caught me. No magic of mine could stop this River's flow to make it reflect like metal or glass. I heard the River's murmur even from where I stood. My breathing slowed to match the sound.
The Arch lay upstream, a quarter mile north at most, towering above the trees that surrounded it. Bright as a mirror, tall as a dozen trees—sun glinted off its highest point, and I looked swiftly away. The Arch could catch me in visions without half trying, and once it caught me I wasn't sure it would let go. It had to be magic. No one could build or grow anything like that.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Matthew handed me some woodchuck and I chewed hungrily, my gaze returning to the River as I did.
Allie yawned, stood, and walked to my side. She reached for my hand. “We don't have to cross that one, do we?” Her voice sounded very small.
I shook my head. No one could cross that River, and no bridge could span it, not without the River's consent. But we didn't need to cross it. We only needed