Creation Dreamer: A Heroine Fantasy Adventure (Calpso Goddess Series: Book One 1) Read online

  “And when you wake, we will weave again. Your light through my body out and into the world. And we will kill the fucking Regys so they may know the consequences of their actions. And we will bring back George and heal Rosie. And Fisher will be mine, and I will be his. And we will re-weave the decision to create two of us, because that was maybe not the best decision someone fucking made. I mean who the hell would have done that?”

  I was back to my old snarky self as the reality set in. I left everything I knew for the gods-damn journey only to find out there were two of us. I could have stayed home and pulled Fisher in under that tree with me and lived there until she managed to dream the fucking world awake.

  Her dreams. Her way.

  There was a blasting thunderclap. She was here. Aya followed me.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t,” I yelled out hoping she could hear me. “I know you didn’t just copy my moves and follow me here. Fucking shit.”

  I remembered my Releasing Day. The day I became Calypso by blood and commitment. The day the Root of Life joined to every water cell in my body so I could claim my Elemental Gifting. Mom said, “I hope you’ll understand this one thing. Courage is not about power. It’s about the heart.” There she was, with jet black hair and her cloak of black to match. Ruby red lips and her one green eye and one gold. She looked so beautiful. She looked so proud as I made the walk.

  Aya looks like her.

  Something grabbed my belly; something fierce wanted to rip my guts out. I made it to the door just as Aya arrived on the meadow. I had underestimated her. She waved at me. The bitch had the fucking audacity to wave at me. Her stare unnerved me as she seemingly floated like wind toward the Lodge. Or like the Arae. I wasn’t sure which.

  “Hey,” I called out. “Let’s talk about this. Have some coffee and sit and think this thing through.” I smiled at her. Her lips curled.

  Fucking bitch. I slammed the door shut. The doorknob was a lion head that protruded out into the room. I heard a click like a bolt. It was locked. That door was not going anywhere.

  Chama, protecting me still?

  Aya seemed just a smidge unhappy when she reached the door and couldn’t get in. The kicking and shrill screams of a little girl who didn’t get her way turned to the rage of a forsaken Calypso being executed by a Regys. Shaking, I slid down to the floor. Crying was my release. Sobbing, actually, until I found my breath again. The Lodge was mine, protecting me from my own personal executioner.

  I felt safe for a moment. Grateful. Until the screaming stopped.

  Sounds echoed down inside the chimney, slamming on one side and then the other. I grabbed the stone being’s arrow in one hand and had my blade in the other, waiting out of sight. I was ready for her. There was one final jarring scratch as she came through the hearth opening and into the room. I swung without looking.

  “Maggie, sugar, what are you doing?”

  “Clarimonde!”

  “Sweetie, you just need to calm yourself down.”

  “I have never been so happy to see—”

  She landed on my shoulder and pecked my cheek before shapeshifting. “So, you have a problem. And that problem is outside trying to conjure up a way to blow this little house down.”

  “And she will if I don’t figure out how to light the fire.”

  “Mountain Bear sent me with a message.” She used her fingers to count as she spoke. “Fake Maggie is doing great. Aya now has a fake, too. Not sure if Blue Eagle is aware. Pick the right orb, because it lights the fire. Like always attracts like. It’s always easier than you think.” She stopped and looked at me. Staring as if there was more.

  “Is that it?” I blurted out.

  “Wait.” She counted again. “There were seven. I know it was seven things.”

  “We don’t exactly have a lot of time.”

  “I know. Let’s start over.” She began again. There was something about Clarimonde. Some kind of ancientness. Like the laws of the Earthen world just no longer applied to her. But, also, as if some part of me knew her.

  “Oh. I’ve got it! The seventh thing is this: if you pick the wrong orb, you will die.” She sighed and smiled, seeming so proud of herself.

  “That’s the one you forgot? The death one?”

  “Sorry, shug. But now we have them all.”

  “But I haven’t see one orb. Not one.” I glanced around the room to make sure I was correct. I was. “So what do I do?”

  “Can’t help you. Any message back? And I’ll tell you what I told the big Bear. You’ve got one shot at this. In case you haven’t noticed, I am not a pigeon, and I have no intention of turning into one. One message for each of you. Period.”

  “That’s a bit bitchy.”

  “Finally! You’re starting to get me. Now do you have a message or not?”

  “Yes. Tell him to see if there is a circle in the snow around fake Aya. If there is, he has to find a way to break it, which won’t be easy. It should suck her back and get rid of fake Aya. That circle is woven by her energy. And no matter what, don’t let anyone break mine. Got it?”

  “Yes, honey.” She shifted. “You can do this.” Her sincerity was sweet, but not convincing.

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “I am. Aya may have the Wix on her side, but you have so much more.”

  She left one raven feather behind on the hearth.

  The Wix were little known to me. Their planet, like Earth, and like Eristotus, were all a part of the Celestial Seven, the ruling energy bodies in our Universe, put into place by Spirit. There was an original story that says Spirit, so vast and so hard to understand, gave all of the Celestial Seven planet guides to show them the ways and the laws: the Four Powers and the Seven Goddesses.

  The Earth, born out of the energy of love, was lush and abundant. Full of the magic of life, Earth grew food and offered all of the Celestial Seven a haven to celebrate, connect with each other, and nourish themselves. The Eristotus was born out of the energy of Wisdom. They held the records of our Universe and the ones beyond. They housed the big libraries and offered seclusion for any who wanted to study. And then there was the Wixmunet, born of the energy of Power, they were the warriors. Here to protect us all. At least that was the story.

  And the others, well, that’s where it gets really complicated. The Four Powers didn’t share much about them with the Calypsos, but I did hear once that the Seven Goddesses ruled those last four Celestial worlds. I always hoped one day I could go there.

  14

  The Search for the Holy Orb

  The search for the orb was on. The stairs wrapped into the side of the chimney in a spiral leading up to a series of glass landings. Doors on every landing only led me to empty rooms. My urgency was heightened by Aya’s incessant chattering and the metal doorknob twisting as she tried to get in. I could imagine her face prickling as she stomped the ground. My adrenals shifted into overdrive.

  I’d reached the apex and exhausted every doorway. There were no fucking orbs. I had one of those ‘look up and sigh’ moments, where my body screamed ‘Mercy!’ with all the chutzpah it could find.

  Doubt is a funny predator. Always looking to find a backdoor, and all it takes is one deep moment of humanity—of vulnerability—for it to find a way inside. Because, then, we fight the doubt and the strength of being vulnerable is perverted into a weakness. I was rotting from doubt.

  The double waning moonlight bounced through the roof doodling her light across my face, down the walls and landings, pooling in the master room below. So like water falling, my eyes traced the hajone. Lights erupted up from the landing and then settled into circles. I laid down, my fingers pleasured by the smooth glowing surface. Glowing circles.

  Fucking d’uh!

  It was the orbs, brilliantly hidden inside the landings on each level and awakened by the double moons. Their light ignited each orb, one by one, floor by floor. The energy whirled around me in a re-birth celebration. My ancestors danced around the fire. The Creation Dream
ers came shrouded in golden light, holding hands around me and chanting. I was not alone. Clarimonde was right.

  Aya must have noticed the change in hues; her chanting grew louder, stronger, and I heard a small ping in the wall.

  “Please help me.” I asked in silence of those around me. “I honor my maternal line. I honor all who have walked before me.”

  My ancestors parted creating a path down the center. My father—it was my father who came toward me. His smile so like the picture, holding the warmth in his eyes that I missed every day of my life. My stomach grabbed my spine as I fought the pain of his loss inside me once again.

  “Dad,” I mouthed. The circle of Dreamers was the only boundary keeping us from falling into each other's arms. And gods forgive me, I wanted that more than I wanted to live. I so desired the joy of his love again.

  “My baby girl. There is so much more for you to do and know.”

  Aya was at the door again.

  “I’m tired.”

  “I know. You’re almost there. And then everything will change.” He looked at the ancestors, and in a tone of defiance, declared, “You are not your mother’s daughter.”

  A screech pierced the air as they swallowed him in mass and he vanished.

  “No! Let him finish. Please! What do you mean?”

  He was gone. Taken from me once again. I wasn’t sure what hurt worse. The night I held his hand as his body turned plastic, or my own people ripping him away from me.

  Not your mother’s daughter?

  The Dreamers chanted in some foreign tongue, their eyes morphed into lights as the landings moved and dropped into greened tree branches. I witnessed the essence of life pouring back into the Lodge, breathing her awake. And the orbs dropped down like apples ready to be picked.

  So clever, really. Up was down and down was up. Bat medicine, we called it. Look at things in reverse and watch new worlds appear. Hang upside down to shift perception. So like the practice we did as children. Laying on the floor and pretending to walk on the ceiling. Practicing every day until I actually was on the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor and I walked room to room, hopping over door frames and enjoying the open spaces. The magic of these practices so real and such a part of all I loved. Except when Thomas swung me upside down with the Arae. Definitely not a part of all I loved.

  The orbs were full and juiced with energy. Their re-birth was maybe the most spectacular thing I had ever seen. After so much lost in my world, after so much decay, this. This was magic. The root of magic and I was under its spell—for about .342 seconds. Because I remembered I had to actually choose one orb. Choose the wrong one and die. Choose the wrong one and Aya wins. The Wixmunet win. It was all a bit shit.

  So I began. There at the tree, looking for the one orb. I shimmied up to the first set of branches that arched down. Large and strong, the limbs were quite easy to walk on. But I had no idea if even touching the wrong one meant death.

  So, I sat and looked at the orb hanging closest to me. I moved my face all around it, stalking like it would speak to me. I sniffed it and blew at it. I stared as if it was a magic seeing ball that would suddenly pop up a message like ‘It’s me!’ Stupid. Thinking a ball would give you messages. It all felt pointless, like I was in a trap. It was an escape room with no key and no calls for help. Save the world by picking the right orb? I mean, what a fucking joke.

  I looked up at all the stars shining down. “If you are real up there, and you really did want to help us, then why all the games? Why is this not just really obvious? Do you think you could help a Caly out?”

  Nothing happened. I rested my back against the tree, looking for a different approach. Instead, I was met with a commanding voice, building in pitch and then fracturing into more voices.

  “You are not the Creation Dreamer.” I heard from behind. From over my shoulder. “You are a fool. Quit now.” Until it became a constant stream of judgments—voices from all around me. “You will die, you do not know what to do, you will not pick the right one, give up now, you can’t do this, and you know it.”

  The voices wouldn’t stop no matter what I did, which included not-so-glamorous begging and screaming tantrums. I demanded they stop as if I had some amazing power of control over them. Nothing. Eyes walked over my chest.

  “It’s you, isn’t it, Aya? You tried everything you could to get that door open and the only way in was through my mind. You bitch. I hope this isn’t all the magic you have.”

  The derisions faded into laughter, and the laughter faded into familiar tones.

  “Magpie Turnley, don’t be fooking stupid. Forget me already?”

  “Chama? Not funny.”

  “It’s a little funny.”

  “How am I hearing you right now? A little more of your vengeance magic?”

  “I’m still a Calypso. Here at the tree—that’s how we are connecting.”

  “Fisher?”

  There was a painful pause.

  “Don’t know.”

  Nothing held back the tears. No matter how hard I clenched my lips, the gasps for air overtook me.

  “Oh, Maggs, we have to think the best. And besides, you’re the Dreamer and all. You get to pick a new reality.”

  I couldn’t speak. Hearing her and knowing she was home brought reality back into focus.

  “George? Rosie?”

  “No word on George, but Rebekah is working to get that shit figured out. And Rosie. Well, she’s here with me. Sort of, I mean she’s here, but she’s, well, you know, kind of out of her head. So we have her sleeping. Just resting.”

  There were sounds and voices I couldn’t make out. Chama said something and ‘I know’ and ‘shut up.’ Then she continued with me. “You know, you would not be on this fooking journey if you could not do this. I mean, what do you want us to do? Just say ‘Hey! Stop everything, you guys—call the Regys, we need another hero!’ Or do you want to just go ahead and be one?” There was another round of loud voices.

  “What’s happened, Chama?” There were explosions in the background. “Chama?”

  “You need to hurry. I don’t know what’s happening there, but we’re pretty much done here. The Earth is done here. And you’re on this Earth, but—”

  “Tell everyone to hang on a little longer.”

  “Babe, the thing is,” she whispered, “the Arae, well, they are only doing what the Earth asked them to do.”

  “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No. Wish I was. The Earth invited them here. She doesn’t want you here.”

  “But I serve her.”

  “She’s done, see? She’s just done. She pretty much signed the evacuation orders, you know?”

  “But we can only do this together. I can’t dream a new world without her energy.”

  “I know. You are just going to have to help her see who you are, like I see who you are, and make her trust you. I don’t know exactly how you do that, but maybe when you have the power and all that—you’ll know.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t do this, Chama. I don’t even feel like this is life. You know? I feel like I’m in some permanent out-of-body experience.”

  “You have to just get up and get your shit together, Magpie. And you just have to keep going, and get this thing done. For us. You know what I mean?”

  I was melting into her. Into how familiar she was and how my heart rested just hearing her voice. Until I remembered. “Can I even fucking trust you anymore? I can’t believe I’m talking to you. You are one of them.”

  “I know you’re pissed.”

  “Pissed? You and I have shared—”

  “So much. I know. Later. For now, stop being an idiot. Of course, you can trust me. Now go do this thing. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “Listen, I kinda peeked into Rebekah’s bowl with all her moojo shiballa squirley voodoo going on in there, and I saw something.”

  “You are fucked when she finds out you did th
at.”

  “I know, but listen to me. Looking at this whatever magical bowl of hers—you get through this. I saw it. I mean, maybe I don’t know what I am seeing, but I think it’s right. I saw you—in another place. On a river, on a houseboat.” I stopped breathing. “So I think it will be okay. So don’t give up. We need you back. All of us. And I need to tell you one other little thing, okay, maybe big is the right word—” There was another explosion and then silence.

  “Chama?”

  Nothing.

  “Don’t fuck with me. Please. Chama?”

  The crack in the wall spread. Aya had honed her power enough to find a way through. Moving orb to orb, limb to limb, I leaped and sniffed and stalked each one hoping the right one would just come to me.

  “You are missing the point, Maggie” A little voice came from overhead.

  A child plopped down on the limb next to me. Hair combed down in straight lines. He laid out 24 stones between us and looked at me.

  “I have a stone in mind and you have to not pick it up.” He was so matter-of-fact.

  “And who the fuck are you?”

  “I said, I have a stone in mind and you have to not pick it up.” He grabbed a stone and looked back at me from over the rim of his glasses as if to say ‘Your turn.’ The clink of the crystal wall made me jump. But not him. He smiled at me. I decided I was stuck in some kind of dark humor amusement park nightmare.

  “Do not pick up the stone you are thinking of?” I was buying time, playing along until I figured out what the hell was happening.

  “Correct. So I picked a stone. And now you pick up a stone and then I will pick up a stone and then you and then me until we are down to the end. If my stone has not been picked up, then we win, and you get it.”

  “I get the stone?”

  “No.” He looked at me. “The orb, of course. That is what you want, right?”

  “How do you know what I want?”

  “I know.” His chin fit with ease in the curve of his palm.