My Mother Divinity [Unedited]

Chapter Nineteen

The plan to take a different route didn't hold. By the time we came to any sort of conclusion, we agreed that the assassins had enough leverage to simply secure the entire village and there was no way we could sneak in undetected. The weather made things difficult, especially with Sammy reluctant to trek in treacherous conditions. The rivers and lochs have become too dangerous and iced-over themselves to bathe regularly in, so old sweat sticks to the nooks and crannies of my skin. Amon is growing a beard out; my fringe is mostly swept to the side and out of my eyes now, and I had forgotten what the scars on my forehead looked like.

Ollie meets us by chance when we finally get there, down at the beach. His cheeks are flushed purple from the snow, speckled with wet smudges of dirt, and he's running across the paths that have already almost been covered up. We're trudging through an area I haven't seen before, or at least don't remember, because there are graves by the dozen spread across the woods - not marked by stones or traditional crosses but by clusters of dying mushrooms and brambles assembled in shapes over the lumps in the ground. Some dead man's hand is sticking out of the earth.

Ollie knows these sights are everyday occurrences for him and doesn't flinch at the fingers that stretch out to reach him. His eyes are glazed over and I would wonder if he's drunk, except I know people don't waste alcohol for no reason. But then he comes closer, and I smell whiskey, and I know there's a reason.

"Please just leave," he says, "you couldn't have come at a worse time." He stares at Isla but adds nothing more, too caught up in his head to question a newcomer.

"What happened?" asks Amon.

"They're telling you to leave!" he yells, and he pushes Amon back just a bit. The action doesn't do much beyond give a new crease to Amon's brow.

"They're not," Brodie inputs. I know who they're talking about. At this, Ollie takes a step back himself and props himself up against a tree. He tilts his head back against the bark and his throat is pale and moving.

"No, they're not," he agrees quietly, "but I am, and what's the difference? You wouldn't know what the Gods tell me anymore than I know what it's like to have... to have an empty head." He glares at me a little hatefully, moving his head back down, and then at Isla. "And for fuck's sake, there's more of you." The horse neighs at the tone - his horse; I almost forgot. "You're selfish, you're so selfish, coming back here."

"Ollie, this is Isla," I tell him awkwardly, trying to put a pin on the resentful conversation.

He looks closer at the newcomer. Of course, they've never met so he has nothing to go off of but I see the way the cogs turn in his brain and how his eyes dart back and forth. "Isla," he echoes. It's not the most unusual name, especially up in these parts, but he knows exactly who she is.

"I didn't want to come back," Amon says, "I knew it was dangerous... selfish." He looks at me and I don't miss the slight tinge of disappointment in his voice. "This will change George and Lenny's lives, for better or worse."

"Oh yeah, it would change their lives..."

"We're leaving, okay?" I offer him peace. Isla is a wary pawn, waiting to be handed over to a boy she's never met, still processing my mother's death. "Isla can..." I look at the teenage girl, still unable to feel remorse. "She's a smart girl and whatever happens, I feel we've collectively made the right decision and she'll be... safe here." There's a lot of hesitation in everyone's voices and the entire exchange of words feels like a pointless promise you would make before stabbing someone in the back.

"We'll take her to her dads then you'll never see us again," Amon assures Ollie, but this suggestion seems like it's made him even more uncomfortable.