Over the River
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Disclaimer: The characters and settings of the Gemma Doyle series are not mine, but are the property of the brilliant Libba Bray.
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THIS IS AN EPILOGUE TO THE SWEET FAR THING. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE LAST BOOK IN THE GEMMA DOYLE SERIES, DO NOT READ THIS FANFIC.
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November 10th, 1965
New York City, New York
My eyes are closing for what I know will be the last time. The radio plays news of Vietnam, but I am not listening. My ears can barely pick up the noise anyway.
When I wake, I am in the Realms. The Garden is just as beautiful as it has been since we changed the Winterlands. My heart clenches at the memory. I look into the reflection of the silver archway, and see that I am as I once was. It is as if I have gone back all those years, to the time when I was young. When I was whole.
"Most High!" Gorgon calls from the river. I look towards her and nod. She understands and goes on. The women with the berries call to me from their boat. I pass them by as well.
The river has a sort of allure that it has never possessed before. I feel as if I can hear the voices of all that have gone before me calling from the other side – my mother and father, Tom. Felicity's beautiful portraits reflect in the water, and Ann's sweet voice floats across from the opposite bank. But there is one voice that I do not hear. There is something here that I seek.
I make my way out of the Garden and down the path. I look through the brambles and Pippa's ruined castle is still there, her body entombed inside. I pass this by as well.
The ivory gate to the Winterlands opens willingly for me. It is as it was when I left it, except that where there were buds before, there are flowers. Its surreal beauty is magnified by the life beginning to pop up everywhere. My shared magic is doing its work.
The Tree of All Souls sits alone on an empty plain. It is surrounded in greenery, and corpses no longer hang from its branches. Flowers bloom where bodies once were.
Gemma… Gemma… the tree sighs.
I smile and go to the tree. It continues to croon my name as I put my arms out and wrap them around the trunk, resting my cheek against its warmth. The vines wrap around me and I melt into the embrace.
When I open my eyes, I am in India. The marketplace bustles with people, a mismatch of souls drawn in by the tree's power. Gemma… I hear my name being called, somewhere distant. I run through the streets. I have waited so, so long. I have dealt with the pain – the empty spot in my soul that seemed to suck the life out of my world. But I lived anyway. For me. For those that would come after me. And for his sacrifice.
My feet take me to where I need to go. It is at the end of the road, a large tent of expensive silks and sashes. It reminds me of Felicity's tent at Spence, but I am beyond there now, beyond going back to Spence or back to my friends. I am here for a reason.
I enter the tent. Soft pillows in reds and oranges and purples decorate the floor. Across the room is a tapestry of an image I recognize: a circle with two hands clasped inside of it. But I can't find what I seek.
Gemma…
At first I think it is the wind again, whistling through the tree's branches. But then I feel a familiar touch on my back, even after all these years. He wraps his arms around my waist and I feel that sensation welling up in my throat.
"Kartik."
The tears come, and I'm sobbing before I realize it. I have not yet seen his face, and when he turns me gently towards him I break into new waves of tears. He is just as beautiful as I remember him; full lips and gently curling black hair. I am at a complete loss for words as his hands are in my hair and he kisses the tears from my face. Everywhere he touches, my skin burns. This is not another dream.
I have so many questions, but I am unable to speak anything but his name. He murmurs mine against my face, against the hollow of my throat, against my breast. The white blouse I wear falls away from my body and I feel his mouth burning my flesh everywhere it touches, setting my skin aflame. I cling to him as if he might vanish from my life as he has so many times before. But he is solid, and he is real, and he will not disappear again. I am still crying, and he gently pulls me down to the floor to wipe away my tears. I gather myself and close my eyes. I must be sure that this is not a dream.
"Gemma," he says in my ear. His breath is warm on my cheek and in my hair. Fresh tears fall from my eyes. "I have waited for so long."
I open my eyes and he is smiling down at me. I run my fingers through his ebony hair. The pieces of me are coming back together as I realize that we will not part again. "Where…where are we?" I ask.
"The Tree of All Souls is an afterlife of its own, Gemma…restless spirits come here." He strokes through long strands of my restored red hair. "And when they are freed, they go to the river to cross over."
"You are not corrupted?"
"The magic is free, Gemma. The Winterlands have no need to try and steal it anymore. There is no need for corruption." I can see the fierce pride in his eyes as he gazes into mine. "You saved the Realms, Gemma. Your wisdom has left this place in peace."
I touch him with my magic, but I already know that there is nothing to fear. I passed unhindered from the Garden to the Winterlands. There is no danger of Kartik's corruption. And the tree is as beautiful as ever.
He is kissing me again, harder this time. I return the kiss gladly, welcoming the feeling. The feeling is just as new and exhilarating as the first time we kissed that night in the gypsy camp. But I know what is to come. I press a finger to his lips but he does not stop, kissing it as he had my face. He ceases when I open my eyes to look at him. "I'm sorry…if I hadn't done all those things wrong…if I had destroyed the tree before…"
"…it was destiny, Gemma…" he murmurs. He kisses my eyelids and they flutter closed.
"I wished…that I could be with you in our world…" I say quietly. The tears have come again, though I push against them with all of my might. All I want is to be with him at this moment.
He places a warm hand on my face. "It was not to be," he whispers, "But we are here. Now. And that is what matters."
I realize that he speaks the truth. My life in the mortal world was but a whisper of the eternity to come. The eternity that I will share with him.
He continues his ministrations. I can feel the need that both of us harbor inside of us, that has been restive for these past seventy years. His mouth, his hands, they're everywhere. The incense in the tent fills my nostrils and I breathe deeply, letting the smell of India and of Kartik dominate my senses. I care little about what has been in the past. There is still a future.
We later lay together, skin against skin. The hole in me is beginning to seal shut, as he talks to me about the souls that have come here. The Order had never known the true purpose of the Tree of All Souls and I find that I do not quite understand either. But it doesn't matter, because Kartik's arms are wrapped around me and I am to be at peace for the first time since my mother died.
I tell him about America, about the strikes and picketing and freedom.
"You needn't tell me," he says, "I promised you that I was there, even if you could not see me."
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When we are freed, I do not understand why or how. All I know is that all of us are suddenly standing on the banks of the river. I hear Ann's song and I see Felicity's paintings. Kartik's hand is in mine, and I know that the Tree has found a new host.
It takes only a smile from him for me to know that it is time. We wade knee-deep into the water, and then it is over our heads. His hair spreads around his face in a cloud, and mine drifts around me. I breathe the water in and it smells of honey. Our skin glistens in the light reflecting down to the bottom of the river. I see Gorgon above us, and she smiles at me and my love. She is happy for us.
Our friends and our families run to greet us. Amar is there, and Pippa is wrapped in Felicity's arms. All souls are equal here. The opposite bank is shrouded in mist, and I know that I cannot return. Kartik and I share a glance, our fingers still intertwined.
There is so much that we missed in life. But there is so much more to do.
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Author's Note: I've never written fanfiction for a book before, so I would love reviews. I would also like to know what you think happened with the Tree and all that. If there was any flaw in this amazing series, it's that there was little detail on the Realms.
I felt bad about Kartik dying, and so I wrote this to ease my troubled soul. I hope it eased yours as well.
--Kat