Rootbound

But if I was truly in a hurry, I wouldn’t think about my connection to the earth, not right away. At least, that was the game I was playing. We sloshed through the water. “Peta—”

“I know, Lark. I know.” She pressed herself against my leg. We could both die, we both knew it. At least . . . at least she was with me.

The anxiety eased when the truth of it settled on my heart. I would never be alone, Peta would never cast me away as so many people had done in my life. Not even for Talan.

A soft rumbling purr rolled through her and into me. I dropped my hand to her head and let the last of the anxiety flow out of me, and in its place my confidence grew.

I had a plan, it was a good one. Maybe we could pull this off.

My next step sunk me in brown swamp water up to my chest. I sucked in a sharp breath as something slithered between my legs. Peta swam ahead of me, her ears pinned back. “Keep an eye out for logs with eyes.”

She grunted and kept swimming. The pull to the center of the swamp didn’t let up, and I followed it.

The water stunk, the rank, acrid scent of death that had resided for too long above ground filled my lungs. I hurried to get out of the water as much as to reach my destination.

“Almost there.” Peta tipped her head at what was in front of us.

A curtain of moss curled down from the trees in various shades of pale green. Situated out of the water, the land looked solid, though I had no doubt there was more water than soil under it.

I approached the moss divider, each step bringing me farther out of the water until I stood on—somewhat—dry land. I glanced at Peta, she nodded, and I stepped forward, my hand lifted to the moss. It parted on its own, without any direction from me. Beyond the moss was a crystal clear pool of water. Even at that distance I could see it was pristine, unlike the rest of the swamp. The mother goddess sat beside it, her back to me.

Once more she had taken the image of my mother. I swallowed hard.

“Lark, you have the stones? Did you use the fake ones to replace the real ones?” she asked softly, though she already had the answer.

“Yes.” I didn’t dare take another step. She raised her head and smiled at me, my mother’s smile, my mother’s face. “You put the fake stones in the grave then? The grave that was Ash’s.”

She tipped her head to one side. “I knew you would not just believe he was gone, that you would find a way to prove to yourself he was alive if I sent you in that direction. I had your father place the stones with the body when it was buried. You are, if nothing else, predictable.”

I gave a slow nod, doing my best to school my face. “Did we make it in time?”

“Yes, barely, but yes. Raven is close behind you.” Her eyes crinkled with pleasure. My heart and gut lurched. “Bring them to me, let me see them.”

With leaden feet I did as she asked, walking until I was only a few feet in front of her. I undid the leather pouch from my belt and handed it to her. “What happens now?”

She opened the pouch and peered in, the smile widening on her face. “Oh, little Larkspur. Your desire to fit in, to be the good girl. It will be the death of you, I think.”

I took several steps back, hating that I’d been right. A minuscule piece of me had still believed I could be wrong. That my mistrust was misplaced. It died with nary a whimper.

Peta stayed at my side as I moved back, sticking to me like a burr.

The mother goddess glanced up at me. “Do you know the stones can be manipulated by those who control Spirit?”

What was she trying to say? “The one who created them, you mean.”

“Not just the creator.” She clutched the bag close to her. “No, they can be used by anyone who is strong in Spirit.”

“Like Raven.” I spat his name out.

“No, he is not strong enough with Spirit. I think you could do it if you put your mind to it, and had the training. Talan, of course, is the one I speak of. He can use the stones to control things.”

Her words were yet another nail in Talan’s coffin. “He warned the rulers I was coming?”

She nodded. “And told them to fight like demons.”

“Why would he do that?” I truly didn’t understand him or his intentions.

She jiggled the leather bag, the sound of the stones clinking softly in the air. I held my breath, but she didn’t seem to notice anything. “He believes the stones are dangerous and should not be held by anyone. I, on the other hand, believe they are the tools they were created to be.”

I shrugged, trying to act like I didn’t feel the undertones to her words. “I’m not terribly surprised he did that. He’s an asshole.”

Her eyebrows raised in tandem. “You don’t like him?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”

“Pity, he could have helped you, if you’d let him.” She smiled again, but the smile darkened until it was no longer my mother’s smile. I gritted my teeth.

“I want to tell you a story, Larkspur. It will help things make sense to you. Many years ago these stones were created by an elemental who was more than she seemed to be.” Her eyes glossed over a little. “She was punished by those who sought to take away her power. As you know, being the strongest of our people is a dangerous position to be in.”

I nodded, and struggled to swallow past the growing tightness in my throat.

She held the leather pouch. “She was punished for being strong, Lark. Cursed for it. The stones were taken from her, and a Spirit Walker convinced a witch to weave a spell. Only when all five stones were brought back to the elemental would the curse be broken. She tried once to bring the stones back to her, but the draw to them was too strong for those elementals she asked for help. Cassava. Raven. They both kept the stones when they were to give them to her.”