Thanks to all my reviewers! Danny, here's "more"...hope you like it! Jersey Princess, wow, three reviews! Thank you! Here's the next chapter...I hope the wait wasn't too terrible...and, yeah, it'll be a little bit before Gordo's back on the scene. pixievix, I'm glad you liked the Lizzie and Arevhat bits...that's exactly what I was going for. :D Black Knight 03, thank you so much...I hope you like this chapter, too! ashley678, I am right there with you on the "fairytale prince charming," but I guess writing about one is almost as good as having one (yeah and denial ain't just a river in Egypt :D). Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying the one I write about here. (Princess) Ziny, I am indeed trying to write a book (we'll see how that goes), and do you think stories count as part of "Music"? swim6516, I'm sorry there's no kiss yet...but Gordo's not around and Lizzie has to work up her courage; I promise they'll get there eventually, though. ;) MissEmmy, I'm so glad you're enjoying both my story and the fairy tales! Lemme know if you find any awesome fairy tale collections in your search.
Chapter 14: Pearls and Wisdom
Arevhat didn't speak again. Instead she kept on at that swift pace, back straight, face forward, a fluid force rising and falling with the hills, green skirts and gold hair unfurled like banners behind her. Lizzie tried her best not to look at her, feeling all the more clumsy and sick in the face of the princess's effortless grace. Instead, she concentrated on merely staying on her feet.
Exhaustion had slid around her in a black-edged veil not long after Arevhat had fallen silent. Her feet fumbled beneath her, knees knocking together, her scalp aching with every jarring step. Her stomach churned and swirled, the nausea growing even as her hands went shaky with hunger. She managed to keep up with the princess, but only just...and not without nearly rolling downhill several times.
And ever and always, she kept returning to Arevhat's words—those familiar words that Lizzie could not recall hearing or thinking before. It was a ceaseless puzzle, infuriating in its own way, but at least it kept her from dwelling on the rapid-increasing agony of this journey...or how much she missed Gordo.
Don't look back, McGuire, she reminded herself, setting her jaw and fixing her eyes resolutely on the far horizon.
They must be halfway to the ocean by now.
At least the sun was lowering. In another hour or so—maybe less—it would be blinding them. Maybe Arevhat would stop then?
Damn, she hoped so.
In the meantime, keep walking, the last two words an echoing mantra in her head: Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking....
And she did, the dim edges of her vision slowly growing, reaching wispy dark fingers that Lizzie couldn't blink away until at last there was nothing to see but a mist of fine, fizzing white spots crackling across a dense, black field. Swallowing back a hazy rise of panic, she reached a hand out for Arevhat, the alarmed call dying in her throat as her next step jolted against stone.
What the hell?
Another step confirmed it. Stone. Slightly rough and very hard beneath her slippered feet. Gasping, Lizzie stumbled to a stop, eyes fighting to see again.
Where the hell am I?
"At the palace of the mother of the Sun," a very familiar voice answered.
Mom? she wondered, mouth shaping the dry, silent word. Her arms strained forward, searching for something, anything...for sight.
"Not in the way you mean, my dear," the woman answered, apology plain in Jo McGuire's voice.
Of course not, Lizzie thought, falling to her knees. Of course not. Acrid tears rose in her mouth, scalded her eyes, as the frustration and fear and heartache rose on their exhaustion tide. Where was Gordo? Where was he? Her fingernails ripped ragged, heedless across the stone beneath her.
"Shh," soothed her mother's voice. "I'm sorry, my dear." An arm looped her shoulders, a hand stilling her desperate fingers. "I'm sorry. It was the only way to get you here. The Way to my home only opens for misery, dear heart. I'm sorry. Rest. Rest. You've earned it."
And the white spots before her eyes faded, drawing her with them, down, down, down into darkness.
#############
Light lapped over her eyelids: soft, constant, rolling swells of it, washing with such gentle persuasion that Lizzie couldn't help yielding. Through lashes fluttering in the light's easy wake, she saw hazy blends of blue and gold and white, firming and sharpening with each blink.Where...?
Everything was so still. Quiet. No wind, no rustle, barely the whisper of her own breathing.
Shouldn't there be grass?
She felt her forehead attempt a frown, eyes blinking harder to focus. Slowly, slowly the world resolved. She lay in a room, circular as far as she could tell, the floor a sky blue marble inset with a brilliant orange and yellow mosaic of the sun. The walls, filled with high, gothic archways, rose in gradually darker shades of blue marble to the vaulted ceiling. There, the night sky stretched in white stones on a sapphire marble so dark it was nearly black.
Where...?
And the answer came softly: the mother of the Sun, her home, perhaps her palace?
Lizzie immediately sat up, swinging her legs down only to gape as a smattering of small, white...beads?...flew from her skirts to dance across the smooth floor, their resonant skittering echoing in the stillness. She lunged after them, wincing as yet more of the little things fell from her clothing. What on earth? Abandoning the search a moment, she turned to find she'd been lying on a bed of the...were those pearls?
A bed of pearls? Unbelievable. The fallen ones forgotten, Lizzie skimmed her fingers through the pearls on the bed, scooping a small handful into her palm. Every one was perfect, exactly round, smooth, lustrous, some smaller than others, most of them ivory, but some faintly pink or peach or even pale green.
"They are beautiful, aren't they?" came a voice behind her, the same voice that she had heard yesterday...or whenever it was that she'd last been awake. With a deep breath, Lizzie nodded and turned.
As she'd expected, it was her mother. At least, it was someone who looked like her mother. Sunny hair drawn back in a complicated mass of twists and curls, body draped in layers of filmy coral silk, only the woman's face was familiar.
"They were a gift from my husband," the woman went on, drawing closer. "His domain is the ocean, mine the sky, so we do not see one another often. These serve as a reminder...and at times they allow me to imagine he is near me." A faint smile touched her mouth. "Besides, they make a comfortable bed." One eyebrow rose. "At least, I hope you found it so."
Truthfully, Lizzie couldn't recall much beyond the last few waking moments—which meant she'd probably been more unconscious than asleep—but she nodded anyway.
"Good. And since you are rested—and better?" Lizzie again nodded, suddenly aware that the nausea she'd been struggling with had disappeared, "—we have much to talk about. Come, please."
And with that, the mother of the Sun—at least, Lizzie assumed it was she—turned and left through the same archway she'd entered. Lizzie scrambled to her feet and followed, stepping carefully to avoid treading on the fallen pearls. In silence, they walked down a long corridor, its walls the same delicate wash of pale to dark stone and filled with more lofty archways, these opening onto other rooms and the occasional courtyard. At last, they came upon an archway lined in gold, where the mother of the Sun turned.
Beyond it was a courtyard, open to a sunless, pearlescent sky, a large, burbling fountain at its center. The splash of water on water was the only sound to be heard apart from the swish of Lizzie's slippered feet on the stone floor.
"Please, be seated," the mother of the Sun said, sinking gracefully to perch on the stone lip of the fountain. Uneasily, Lizzie followed suit, hoping there wasn't water waiting to soak through the layers of her skirt. "It is perfectly dry, I assure you." Lizzie started, wide eyes jumping to her mother's, so familiar and yet set in an undeniably foreign expression. "This is my domain," the mother of the Sun explained patiently, "I know all of what goes on here. So, yes, I can hear your mind's words, but I would no more hold them against you than I would the color of your eyes. Please, do not be uneasy."
Right. That was a whole lot easier said than done.
The faint smile on the goddess's mouth told Lizzie she'd heard that. Bother. "Yes," the mother of the Sun agreed. "Now, shall we try to forget all that and go on to the business at hand? You did come for my help, did you not?"
Should she even bother speaking? Clearing her throat, she creaked a, "Yes," anyway.
"Speaking clarifies things. Please, I'd rather you spoke. Now, you and your companion are trying to get home, are you not?"
"Yes." Did the goddess need to know more than that?
"Rest easy, if I need to know, I will ask." The mother of the Sun gave a slight smile. "After all, you are no mind listener." Was that a wink? Still smiling, the goddess went on, "Fortunately, I know how you may get home."
Despite herself, Lizzie gave a delighted, "Really?!"
The other woman laughed. "Yes. Really. I am irritating and occasionally terrifying to my visitors, but I do have my uses. Now, although I know how you are to get home, you still have a fair way to journey to get there. Which works out for the best, really, considering you have yet to resolve what brought you here in the first place. I suppose I can help you with at least some of that, though."
It was a little easier to speak this time. "What? 'What brought us here in the first place'?" Lizzie echoed. "You mean, there's a reason why we're here?"
The goddess raised an eyebrow. "Of course. You don't just appear in a—what is it you call it? 'bubble universe'?—without a very good reason."
"Well, what's the reason?"
"I'm afraid you have to discover that on your own. There are rules to this sort of thing. Besides, I rather suspect you know already."
Right. Like she'd be asking if she knew already. Freaking bubble universe.
The goddess's laugh startled Lizzie from her thoughts. "Indeed," the other woman drawled. "Now, as for what I can tell you. There's a, well, portal of sorts back to your...world...that can be found with my husband. As I mentioned earlier, his domain is the sea, the opposite of my own. Because of that, I cannot tell you precisely where to find him. There is someone, though, who can.
"I suppose you might call him an oracle. He has had contact with the sea for centuries, and speaks easily with those who live there. But he is of my domain, a crane who was once a man. Therefore, I know of his whereabouts at all times. Right now, he is living on an island-kingdom called Jagur, in its capital city, Aderet. The king there will know how to find his precise location."
"So I need to sail to this Jagur place?" The goddess nodded. "And how far away is that from here?"
The mother of the Sun laughed. "Oh, very, very far away, my dear. You cannot get back on your own. But do not worry, I shall put you to earth in exactly the correct place to find a ship."
Lizzie shook her head to banish the image of a great cartoon hand, a la Monty Python, snatching her up and depositing her in the midst of a fishing village. "Can you bring Gordo there?"
"Gordo?" The goddess looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, yes, your companion." She shook her head. "No. I'm afraid he is already gone."
Gone? The breath froze in her chest. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"
The mother of the Sun frowned. "Surely you did not expect you were the only one with a task? And surely, you were not the only one with a reason to come here. He has his own discoveries to make."
Right. Okay. That's not unreasonable, Lizzie told herself, trying to remember to breathe. "But we will find each other, right? I-I mean, we got here together, so we should leave together."
"Did you come to this...world...together?" Those familiar eyes bore intently into Lizzie's. "I had not thought you had."
Well. No. Lizzie had woken up in that forest clearing all by herself. So, they hadn't been together, but she'd met him so shortly after that...she'd assumed they'd gotten in the fairy tale universe at about the same time. Did that count?
"Perhaps it is not surprising, then," the goddess was saying, "that you might leave separately?"
No, Lizzie supposed not. Her chest hitched. But, then, where was he? Was he safe? Was he looking for her? Had he already gone home? She swallowed the thickness in her throat. Had he left her behind?
The flood of anger caught her by surprise. But it was familiar—oh, so familiar. There was that same burning band around her chest, that old thundering at her temples, her hands fisting like reflex. And she drew it in like air. He'd left her behind. Just as she knew he was going to, back home.
"But didn't you leave him behind?" The goddess's voice slid sharp through Lizzie's thoughts.
What? The swift-welling fury came to an abrupt, cold end. Lizzie blinked. "W-well," she stammered, "I had to. To get home, Arevhat said I had to come alone." But the point was plain: she had no more control over this quest than Gordo did. If he'd gone home, he hadn't left her on purpose.
Again, the goddess's words intruded, "I wasn't speaking of now...or here." Lizzie raised confused eyes to the mother of the Sun. She didn't mean back home, did she? How had she left Gordo behind there? Lifting a deliberate eyebrow in a very Jo McGuire way, the goddess continued, "Not all ways to abandon friends are physical, little one. Coldness and disdain and distance are more devastating than any mere absence."
For a moment, Lizzie could not think what the mother of the Sun meant. Distance? Coldness and disdain? And then, it was blindingly obvious. "Oh, no," she whispered, hands clapping over her mouth. The Fight, her anger, her treatment of all her friends...but especially Gordo.
She hadn't even thought of it that way. Had she been trying to leave him behind? Surely not. Surely.... Why on earth would she have been doing that? He was her best friend. Why would she leave him?
Geez, McGuire, you've only been asking yourself that since this whole bad attitude thing began, she chided. Her darting eyes landed on the mother of the Sun's kind, sympathetic face. If anyone knew....
"But why?" she whispered, clearing her throat to go on, "Why would I do that? H-he's my best friend."
If possible, the mother of the Sun grew even more sympathetic, her hand reaching to lightly cup Lizzie's cheek. "We do strange things, do we not, when we are afraid?"
Lizzie flinched. Afraid? Of what?
"Dearest, I think you know," the goddess answered, her grip firming on Lizzie's face. "Don't you remember?"
And suddenly, Lizzie was home again, back in the high school library during that horrible lunch, her Trigonometry book closed in front of her. The minutes flew before her eyes: why hadn't Gordo told her...mapping out his future and she didn't know a thing about it...Am and Gordo dating...maybe going to the same college...they knew exactly what they wanted...New York...on the other side of the country.... And underneath it all, They're leaving me...they're leaving me...he's leaving me.... And the terror, the horror, the, oh, God, the agony. Burning, rending, shifting so far down that all she could see, all she could feel, was the fierce, rumbling rage venting to the surface.
The goddess's hand loosened again, and Lizzie opened awed eyes to realize she was trembling. "I-I didn't," she croaked, finding her mother's eyes though they swam before her. "I didn't know." She squeezed her eyes shut, heedless of the tears pressed onto her cheeks. "Why was I so afraid? Why did it hurt so badly?" she asked, more of herself than the goddess before her.
The mother of the Sun answered anyway, though: "You do know that, dear heart."
And she was right. Lizzie did know. It fell open inside her, glowing, real, and so, so deep. "I'm in love with him," she breathed, amazement fraying almost all her voice away. How had she missed it? The truth of it was threaded through every part of her Self, through every memory, every moment, every beat and breath of her body. A subtle garnish in some places, in others it literally held her together. How could she have missed it?!
"As I said," the goddess answered, "we do strange things when we're afraid."
Lizzie's eyes jumped open. "But I wasn't afraid of that. At least, I..." Well, to be honest, Lizzie wasn't really sure what she'd been. This whole thing came as rather a shock. Which was the understatement of, oh, her life.
"It is a hard thing, my dear, to need another person."
The words came unbidden, "Especially when he doesn't need you." Especially when you know that, despite a junior high crush he might have had on you, he's never indicated interest since. Especially since you know that, given half a chance, he'll find something more right for him than you as soon as you're gone. Which sounded eerily like Arevhat's thoughts on her love. No wonder they'd tasted so familiar when Lizzie had mulled them over.
The mother of the Sun's hand dropped away, pulling Lizzie from her thoughts. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you what he does or does not need, my dear. That is your solution to find, as Arevhat is seeking hers right now." The goddess smiled. "You gave very fine advice, by the way. She has gone after her love and their child. It may not be the answer she wants, but as you said, at least she'll know one way or the other." The angle of the goddess's eyebrow left Lizzie in no doubt that she believed Lizzie should follow her own counsel.
Again, a whole lot easier said than done.
"Yes," the mother of the Sun agreed. "In any case, I have given you all the assistance that I can. You still have a journey ahead of you. The sooner you begin, the sooner you end it."
Gordo's parting words jumped into Lizzie's mind: Sooner you leave, sooner we see one another again, sooner we get home. If only she knew she actually would see Gordo before she got home.
"I'm sorry I cannot reassure you of that, dearest. He is not in my domain, nor is he in my care. And actually spiriting you home is not in my realm of ability. I am only a goddess, after all." With a faint smile, the mother of the Sun swept a hand through the water in the fountain. When she lifted it again, slouched in her palm was a small pouch of brilliant cranberry silk. "Some of my finest pearls," she explained, handing it to Lizzie. "They should serve to pay your passage to Jagur. Look for a ship named the Amana. The captain's a good man, a favorite of my husband. I believe this time of year he settles for a few weeks in the ship's home port, Eliston. Stand, my dear, and I shall take you there."
Obediently, Lizzie got to her feet, stepping away from the fountain so the goddess could stand beside her. "This shall be far more pleasant than your journey here," the mother of the Sun said, hand cupping Lizzie's forehead. "But these things are peculiar like that. Best of luck, dearest, and courage." With one last smile, the goddess pressed her hand harder to Lizzie's brow. The blue and white and gold of the palace shimmered and smeared like a watercolor. And then, nothing.
####
end of chapter 14
Chapter Notes:
I don't own Monty Python...unless you count a DVD of Monty Python and the Holy Grail that I wish I owned. :)