The Spirit Walker (BOOK ONE): The Ripple

Chapter Forty-one: Ride the Wave

I dream.

I dream of my mother, despondently waiting beside the window for a child who will never come home, her cup of honeyed tea long grown cold. I dream of a father who is not my father- a man who wears his red-splotched, puffy face, but has a different sort of hardness in his eyes, and more scars across his knuckles.

I dream of wind rushing through my hair as I soar, the only thing holding me to the earth my thighs astride a painted mare with one blue eye. She whinnies at me, and for a moment, I think I can hear her voice in my head. I wordlessly urge her to go faster and she complies, her hooves thundering against the ground with such speed we might as well be flying.

I dream of herbal tonics and witches in dark woods brewing foul potions and whispering incantations that even the Aniwodi would find obscene. Smoke curls around braided hair and twisted fingers and something foul slithers down my throat to take root in my belly.

For days, I do nothing but dream. I awaken to relieve myself, to accept the food that Ness, Maise, and Elder Diyani force down my throat, before brewing another cup of Elder Chenoa's tea and retreating into a dreamworld of visions and memory.

Every so often, I hear Calum's voice at the door. Sometimes, it rouses me from my induced slumber. Others, it slithers through my mind, and changes the images I see. I dream of gentle lips against my forehead, of a fight filled with words as sharp as the broken glass cosmetic bottles that are scattered across the floor. I dream of teeth sinking into my neck, claiming me, the pain as brutal as it is exquisite.

But all the dreaming has come to nothing.

They are, in the end, only dreams.

"Please, Elder, put an end to this. She should not be taking so much."

Maise's voice is soft, foggy. I groan and stir. My head is spinning, and my limbs are weak. Soft, dry hands are on my forehead. I blink my eyes open, and Elder Diyani's face swims above me.

"More tea," I croak.

Elder Diyani frowns.

I push myself up to my elbows, and swallow back a wave of nausea. "More tea." I demand.

Elder Diyani shakes her head.

"Elder..."

"Enough, child. The Righ has been against this from the start, and his concern grows by the day. Now even your little lady's maid is begging me to put an end to this foolishness."

"It isn't foolishness. I need..."

"It is the very definition of foolishness," she interjects, firmly. "It has been three days. We have already departed Drummond lands, and are no more than a night from Clan Cameron. What you are doing is not working. You must find another way."

"There isn't another way! Just give me one more cup. Maybe if I really focus, I'll see..."

"Enough!" A voice barks from the door. I swivel my head and meet Ness' pinched face. "For Spirit's sake, Raelyn. You and Calum were fucking made for each other- you're both the most stubborn, hard-headed people in all of Dhaoine-TIr."

"That's not true," I protest, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and reeling from the movement. Ness tuts.

"Look at you, weak as a fucking kitten, and still begging for more drugs."

"Ness-"

"Besides, speaking of your idiotic other half- he's summoning you."

I blink, and swing my gaze to Elder Diyani, who has suddenly gone rigid, her eyes tight with worry.