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“Listen; there’s a hell of a good universe next door: let’s go.”
—e. e. cummings
THE WIND BLOWING OFF the sea was bitter cold. It slapped at my face and hair and made my teeth chatter as I steered my tender around the Isles of Eternity, looking for a safe spot to land in the fading daylight.
The scarf and gloves I’d pilfered from an old trunk that Josie had kept aboard our ship offered little relief, but I wore them more for moral support than anything else. I wondered what she would think of all this if she were here, and my heart twinged with regret that she wasn’t and couldn’t talk it over with me.
There were seven islands in all, but no one knew for certain how many were inhabited. The largest of the isles, where I’d witnessed the first souls crawling out of the sea, was a given. Torches to guide sea travelers away from danger lined the beaches. The other six isles didn’t have much beach area to speak of, but the big island’s lights were bright enough to illuminate them all.
With Cordelia’s invitation directing me to the northernmost isle, I assumed that one was occupied, too, at the very least. She’d mentioned a village, and what was a village without villagers?
Yet even in the near dark, I didn’t see any lights beyond the thick forest butted up against the shoreline. I cruised around the isle twice before the faint outline of a man caught my attention. He stood on a narrow stretch of beach, a torch in one hand and his other pointing out the entrance of a gravel bar that curled inland.
I throttled down the tender’s motor, then killed it as the hull scraped bottom.
“You made it,” the man shouted in greeting. He thrust his torch into the sand and rushed to help me pull the boat ashore. “We were afraid you might not come,” he said breathlessly, then bubbled with laughter as he gave me another once-over. “Everyone is so excited to meet you. I’m Gavin, by the way.”
I shook his hand and glanced down at his rolled-up jeans and bare feet. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Huh?” His gaze followed mine to his bluish toes, and he wiggled them in the wet gravel. “Oh, sure. But it’s warmer in the village. You’ll see.” He fetched the torch and waved his arm, bidding me to follow him toward a narrow path set between two trees. I hadn’t noticed it from the water.
I tucked the bag of ground coffee under one arm and retied my scarf as I trailed after Gavin. Even if it were warmer in the village, it was still freezing on the coast.
Once we were out of the wind and shielded by thick evergreens on all sides, sensation began to return to my ears and fingertips. I yanked off my gloves and rubbed my hands together, sighing with relief. The air was sweeter here, a perfume of pine and cypress laced with lavender, ginseng, rosemary, and dill. I’d anticipated the trees, but I hadn’t expected much else to grow on the isles in the dead of winter.
“We call this the Harvian Wood,” Gavin said. He shot me a shy smile over his shoulder and pointed a finger at the trees all around us.
“What?” I blinked at him and then up at the dark canopy above. “Why?”
“After you, of course.”
I stopped in the middle of the path. Gavin took a few more steps before he noticed and backtracked.
“Are you okay?” At my stunned silence, he added, “Was it something I said? If it’s about the forest name, we already have the Lana Lagoon. That’s why we went with your last name.”
“Oh,” I said, as if it all suddenly made sense, and I wasn’t having a minor meltdown over learning that the Woke Souls had gone geography happy with my name.
Once again, I wondered what the hell I was walking into. An episode of the Twilight Zone seemed all too plausible. And when had the temperature spiked from Antarctica to Amazonia?
Gavin opened his free arm as I stripped out of my scarf and jacket. “Can I carry any of that for you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, waving him off. “I just need... a minute to catch my breath.” In case things get any weirder and I have to make a mad dash back to my boat, I silently added.
“You sure I can’t take some of that off your hands?” Gavin frowned at everything I was carrying. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I show up with the guest of honor loaded down like a pack mule.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” I turned over the scarf and jacket but kept the coffee. I wanted to give it to Cordelia personally, so I could ask her why she’d failed to mention all these extra details. I also wanted to know if the council was aware of my celebrity status on the isles. It didn’t seem like a pill they’d have an easy time swallowing. I was still choking on it myself.
“It’s not much farther,” Gavin said, stealing another backward glance as he continued down the path. There was more worry than admiration in his eyes now. As if he were aware that he had overshared—or knew what awaited me ahead.
I shoved the sleeves of my sweater up my arms and reluctantly followed him. Sweat had broken out across my face and chest. Though the air was fragrant, it was humid, and I was having a hard time breathing. The trickle of adrenaline pumping through my veins didn’t help.
Voices echoed in the distance, and flickering firelight seeped through the trees. Soon, drums and stringed instruments joined the growing din, along with laughter and singing.
“She’s here!” someone shouted.
I froze again, but Gavin had reached the end of the path. He stepped aside, letting the scene unfold for me in the clearing beyond.
Hundreds of souls turned to stare at me. They were dressed in scraps of mismatched clothes that spanned the past few centuries, and most were barefoot like Gavin. They reveled around three bonfires that burned in a row down the center of the clearing. Small log cabins and huts pressed up against the forest along the outskirts of the space. Tables made of more roughhewn wood were scattered in front of the tiny homes, filled with food and drink.
Cordelia emerged from the throng and opened her arms to me with a wide smile. “Welcome to the winter festival, Lana.”
With my identity confirmed, the crowd erupted. My name was in every mouth, tinged with excitement and awe. Someone whistled, and several others began chanting. A sobbing woman touched my arm as Cordelia led me away toward one of the cabins.
“Let’s get you into some more breathable clothes,” she said. “You can change back in the morning.”
“Oh, I can’t stay all night,” I insisted, my throat tightening with another dose of panic. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry. A little throne water should fix you right up.” Her cryptic smile was beginning to unnerve me, but before I could inquire what the hell throne water was, she asked, “Are you still searching for original believers to mend the compromised hells?”
It seemed like something she should have already known the answer to, but then again, I was sure the rest of the council didn’t invite her to every meeting. They were elitists, after all. Even the subservient beings didn’t regard souls with the same respect as their own kind.
“I guess you didn’t hear about the incident with Judas yesterday.” I winced, trying to decide how to break the news of my failure to the leader of my new fan club.
“Oh, I heard,” Cordelia said, entering the cabin ahead of me. “But I assumed you, of all deities, wouldn’t let the council slow you down.”
“Well, I—wait, what?” I stopped inside the doorway. “Did you say deity?”
“I did. We’re all here because of you. What else could you be?” Cordelia asked.
“I don’t know what you’ve been told, and I can’t even begin to fathom who would say such a thing, but I’m just a reaper.”
“Just a reaper.” She chuckled and opened a primitive-looking wardrobe in the corner of the cabin’s single room. The clothes inside hung on hangers fashioned from bound twigs and consisted of primarily solid-colored, sleeveless dresses.
“I thought you turned down the visa proposal,” I said. “Has one of the charities in Limbo City been donating food and clothes?”
“We have a farm on the big island,” Cordelia explained. “In addition to a wide variety of produce, we have chickens, goats, and sheep. One of the Woke Souls built a loom and makes additional clothing for us, though most still favor their enlightenment attire—the clothes they were wearing the day you woke us.”
“That was the throne, not me.” I shook my head, refusing to accept credit for a feat that had nearly killed me and hadn’t even been my idea. Naledi’s disembodied voice had directed me to the sea. I’d released the throne’s power because it had hurt too much to hold it. If I hadn’t, it likely would have destroyed me.
“You’re too modest.” Cordelia’s smile softened. “It’s a rare and noble trait for a goddess.”
“Goddess?” I snorted out a dry laugh. This was ridiculous. “I told you, it was the throne.”
“We do not praise the blade that slays the dragon,” Cordelia said. “We give our gratitude to the warrior who wields the weapon. That’s you, Lana. Let us thank you. I think you’ll be quite pleased with your reward.”
“Reward?” I felt like a parrot, echoing these strange words that my brain refused to grasp back at her.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Cordelia’s grin returned.
“No,” I said, my face scrunching with offense. “I just came to... give you this.” I thrust the bag of coffee at her. “And to officially welcome you to Eternity. That’s all.”
Cordelia accepted the coffee without taking her eyes from me. “But you’ve already given us so much. It’s our turn to give back.”
“I don’t know what more to say,” I admitted. “This is a lot to process, and I sincerely don’t need any reward.”
“Don’t you, though?” Cordelia pulled a white dress from the wardrobe and handed it to me. “What do you desire most right now?”
“Definitely some cooler clothes,” I said, accepting the garment. “Thank you, this is perfect.”
“And beyond that?” Cordelia’s brows hitched, and her lips pressed into a tight line. She was getting frustrated with me. Whatever game we were playing, I was losing. But no one had told me the rules.
“What do I desire most right now?” I fell back into parrot mode, repeating the question. Honesty was easy when she clearly already knew the answer. “Original believers that can fix the broken borders of the underworld and stop hellcats from escaping,” I answered bluntly. “Got any of those hidden in the back of your wardrobe?”
“Well, maybe not in the wardrobe.” Cordelia’s eyes twinkled. “Change your clothes, and then we’ll see what we can see.”
She patted my arm and left the cabin to give me some privacy. I waited until I was alone before dropping onto a chair beside her bed. My legs felt like spaghetti. I wasn’t sure if that had more to do with the suffocating heat or the idea that she might actually be harboring an original believer on the island. It didn’t seem possible.
The Isles of Eternity sheltered atheists and agnostics. How could an original believer have ended up here? How would Cordelia even recognize one or tell who they had been in a past life? And would knowing the answer to that put me in a sticky situation with the council? Would they see me as some sort of accomplice to the Woke Souls’ hidden agenda?
Whatever long-term consequences awaited, Cordelia’s preface detailed how this was my reward: this thing I desired most. Which led me to believe that if she did have an original believer on the island, they would turn it over to me. I would be able to take the soul directly to their designated hell and place a late-night tea order with Jack.
The thought made my fingers tremble with anticipation. I undressed in a rush, draping my clothes over the back of the chair before donning the white dress. I was taller than Cordelia by a few inches, so the hemline hit me just below the knee, leaving a few inches of skin above the tops of my boots. I considered leaving them on, but it felt rude somehow with everyone else wandering around barefoot. I pulled them off, along with my socks, and tucked them under the chair.
The dirt floor felt cool beneath my feet, instantly dropping my body to a more comfortable temperature. My mood eased with the sudden relief, and I exited the cabin feeling surer of myself. Until the souls turned on me again.
“This way,” Cordelia said, directing me through the crowd of celebrating souls. Hands reached out, brushing my arms as I walked past. They didn’t grab or pinch, so I tolerated it without complaining. It was no more intrusive than being jostled about on the busy sidewalks of Limbo City.
Cordelia slipped away from the halos of the bonfires and led me toward another hidden path through the forest. The trail was shorter this time, leading farther inland. The light that greeted us through the trees was different, too, glowing an eerie blue.
Soon, we reached our destination. It was a pond—no, a lagoon.
“The Lana Lagoon,” Gavin said. I turned and found him and a few other souls on the path behind me.
“Why does it glow like that?” I asked, looking back at the sparkling water.
Gavin shrugged. “We just assumed you made it that way.”
There’d been no room in my head for shimmery pools of blue water when I dumped the throne’s power into the sea. There had hardly been room for my own name. Gavin held some Bob Ross version of me in his mind that didn’t exist, leisurely painting happy little trees and sandy beaches. But trying to dismiss the significance of the role I’d played in creating the islands or waking the souls was proving pointless.
Cordelia waded into the lagoon, the electric hue painting blue highlights and shadows across her dress and face. She held out her hands, inviting us to join her. Gavin offered me his hand, and I accepted it in spite of myself. The hopeful, naïve expression on his face was breaking my heart. I could just tell I would end up letting them all down.
The water in the lagoon was cold and salty. I smelled the bite of the sea wafting off the surface as I stepped in, though the trees bowing over us formed a cocoon of warm air. The contrast reminded me of the peculiar space between realms that was neither here nor there, the metaphysical veil I was drawn through each time I rolled a coin.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Cordelia reached out and took my free hand.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I said. I followed that up more openly with, “But I feel something.”
“The sea has given us many gifts,” Cordelia said. “It holds many yet, and with the difficulty you’ve encountered in your search for the necessary souls to restore balance to Eternity, I expect one is waiting to be found here.”
The three other souls that had followed us down the path entered the water, taking up posts between Cordelia and Gavin. They linked hands, completing our circle. And then I really felt it. Whatever it was.
The icy lagoon bubbled with intent, and the silty bottom worked its way between my toes. When I looked back up at Cordelia, her eyes glowed as blue at the water. So did Gavin’s, and those of everyone else gathered with us.
“The throne is still yours to wield,” Cordelia whispered. “You need only tell it what you desire. With your heart,” she clarified as my mouth gaped open and all intelligent thought escaped me.
What if the sea didn’t hold either of the remaining souls? Would the lagoon cough up enough stones to spell out: Better luck next time?
I tried to shrug off my doubt and focus. This went far beyond some magic eight ball.
Tantalus and Zaynab remained. They were both vital, but the latter would alleviate Khadija’s suffering. Before I had a chance to string the request together in my mind, the water in the lagoon churned and gurgled. A whirlpool twisted in the center of our circle, and a liquid form that soon took the shape of a woman with dark hair and sharp eyes rose from it. Her long gown dragged in the water around her legs.
When the lagoon settled, Cordelia broke the circle to take the woman’s hand and stroked her arm. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Zaynab,” the woman replied, taking in the lush forest enclosing us. “Is this... Shamayim?” She seemed confused, as if she hadn’t expected paradise to be waiting for her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
“No,” Cordelia answered gently.
“You’re needed elsewhere,” I said, still working out how to explain the situation. I could hardly understand it myself. Zaynab was right in front of me, her past lives inexplicably melted away by the throne and the sea. “You’ve been selected for a job of sorts,” I tried again. “A queenhood, really. You’ll be generously compensated.”
I would have taken her to Jahannam kicking and screaming, if necessary, but willing souls were always more pleasant to work with.
Gavin and the others formed a protective circle around Zaynab. For a second, my heart dropped at the fear that they might not let me take her. But as Cordelia linked her arm with mine, directing me toward the shore and the path back into the village, they fell into step behind us.
“When the council asks how you came by this soul, I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you left out the finer details,” she said. I would have claimed that I had found the soul in a dumpster behind a dreidel factory if it meant getting her in my boat and coined off to Jahannam before dawn.
“What should I tell the council?” I asked Cordelia.
“The simple truth. That the sea washed away her past lives, and you found her in the water while visiting the isles. A coincidence.”
A whisper of a laugh escaped me. “No, meeting you was a coincidence. This is nothing short of a miracle.”
“You are the miracle, Lana.” Cordelia squeezed my hand. “You still don’t see it, but you will.”