3. Chapter Three
3
CHAPTER THREE
ELODIE
T hough my body felt rested, I woke the next morning just as drained as I had been the night before. I nestled down further into the quilt, hand resting on a large, black, furry body. In those sleepy first seconds, I willed my mind to drift back off before remembering who was waiting for me at Nanna’s. Only slightly reluctant, I slid from the comforting warmth of the blankets, and Titan , pulling my dressing gown around me and belting it.
Eager to release the stiffness from my body, I stretched out, raising my arms above my head and sinking slightly into the bed as I did. Titan shifted his head to look up at me, as if his big amber eyes could see right into mind.
Looking away, I glanced at the journal I kept by my bed. My dreams had been no clearer last night, just more of the same. Flashes of faces and places racing past my subconscious mind faster than I could attempt to make sense of them. There was a darkness that swirled through it all, weaving itself into every frame as though it was watching them, too—a menacing feeling leached from it that lingered far longer than I wanted to think about.
“Morning puppy,” I yawned, before winding a hand through Titans fur and pressing my head against his, basking in the peace he brought me for a long moment before opening my top drawer to pull out my tarot cards. The pack was worn around the edges from countless years of use, but the paintings on them were as perfect as if they had been painted a day ago. Energy radiated from the cards as I ran my fingers over the delicate pictures, the sense of home washing over me.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and clearing my mind of thought as I shuffled the cards between my fingers. Flicking them over each other until I was satisfied they were ready and arranging them in a neat pile in my hands. Eyes now open, I drew the top card, flipping it over and placing it on top of the deck.
The Tower stared back at me, the great stone monument looming within the clouds, lightning striking the turret. Cracking it open while three windows spilled fire into the air and two figures leapt to their doom.
Could have been better.
Actually, anything would have been better. Unexpected upheaval and change, destruction, crisis. Fucking catastrophe.
Even Nanna couldn’t spin this one into a positive.
I stared hard at the card as though it would morph into something else if I glared long enough. Sighing, I tucked it back into the deck and put them away, absently scratching at Titan’s head as my mind whirred. No immediate signs of upheaval or destruction presented itself to me, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t coming.
You don’t even believe in the cards, so what’s the issue?
Lying to yourself was a funny thing. For years I’d convinced myself that there was no way I had power anything like Briar thought I did, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that every reading ended up true to life. There’s only so many times you can say it's wish fulfilment before it becomes something more.
How do you ignore the images behind your eyes when you look at a stranger in the coffee shop? Watching them smiling and laughing at the same person, who in your mind, just reduced them to a sobbing pile on the floor? How do you ignore the dreams of places you’ve never been but feel an ache in your soul to find? The glimpses of death that invaded your eyes when you happen to brush past someone on the street?
Well, I do, and life is easier that way.
A beep interrupted my thoughts, and I unlocked my phone to check the message. Sure enough there was a notification from Nanna, and I swiped across to open it. There were no words, just a photo of her and Briar, their arms held tightly around each other, and their faces pressed together as they beamed at the camera. The happiness I could practically feel pouring from the phone at being reunited pushed away the unease over my creepy dreams and ominous cards. A smile stretched over my face as I looked at the photo before locking my phone and throwing it onto the bed.
I didn’t bother with breakfast, it was still early, and Nanna would have something for me once I got to her house.
After all, what Nan didn’t enjoy feeding their grandkid?
Crossing over to my dresser by the window, I stood for a moment, watching the clouds drift lazily in the sky, the sun already warming the ground. Pulling out some underwear along with a pair of leggings and a short-sleeved top, I stepped away to change.
Though I lived in a pretty remote spot it was good practice not to get naked in front of a window really, wasn’t it? Briar liked to remind me whenever we were out for a walk in the woods, ‘ the trees have eyes Elodie, they’re always watching .’
Whatever the fuck she meant by that.
My house did indeed have a fair few trees surrounding it, and if they did have eyes, I didn’t particularly want them getting a look. By the click of claws on the wooden floor I knew Titan had slunk out of bed, probably making his way to the kitchen in search of a morning snack. I dressed quickly— away from the window —scrunching my hair up in a bun and rubbing moisturiser onto my face before adding extra rings to my already crowded fingers.
Most of the trinkets I wore were things I had made myself, though I was also partial to second-hand and vintage shops, searching the stores for anything that called to me.
And they did; there was always something that drew me to one of the pieces, an invisible thread tying me to the gold to tell me it was now mine. I liked to wonder at who they had belonged to before me, what adventures they had been on, what they had seen. With the rings in place, I grabbed my phone from the bed and headed into the hall, typing out a text to Polly letting her know Briar was in town, so I’d likely be busy the next few days. She was the only one who I’d ever let close enough to be part of my life.
Although I hadn’t exactly been tripping over invitations of friendship growing up.
Polly never asked questions. From the moment we met as children she had accepted me as I was, she never tried to figure me out.
We were just two little girls when I had been having another rough day at school, my head so full I couldn’t focus on a thing around me. I’d run behind the building, the amethyst Nanna had tucked into my pocket squeezed in my tiny fingers as I fought a way through to the present. Polly’s young voice had been clear and inquisitive as she asked if I was ok, startling me enough that the stone dropped to the floor. She bent down, picking up the purple gem and I held my breath as I noticed that I had moulded the hard crystal into the shape of my clenched fist. It shouldn’t have been possible, and it definitely shouldn’t have been something I’d let someone else see, but she had. I’d struggled to breathe with the panic that was rising within me, well aware of how angry Nanna was going to be.
“Pretty,” she had whispered before tucking the amethyst into her own pocket and asking me whether I’d seen the newest episode of some mermaid show. The world focused as my lungs worked again and when I told her I hadn’t, she proceeded to explain the plot of the entire thing. With every word she spoke the racing thoughts that had brought me to the back of the building disappeared.
We had become inseparable—a friendship Nanna had been reluctant to encourage—but soon enough Polly had become a firm fixture in our lives, spending countless hours exploring Nanna’s house and the grounds around them. Building dens or looking for secret passages. I know now that being with us meant she wasn’t home.
She never brought up that day, but I was pretty sure she still had that gemstone hidden away somewhere. Polly never minded the weird shit, she just ran with it.
My mind never flickered around her, there was never any of the visions or unexplainable emotions that would fill me when I was around others. She was a place of calm. Maybe it was because she kept me so busy with other things I didn’t have time for that part of me to push through. Whatever it was, it helped me through those younger years before it all faded into background noise.
The dark, wooden floor creaked as I headed across the hall to the coat rack by the front door, finding my giant wolf-dog sitting patiently. I reached out to scratch him on the spot I knew he loved.
“I take it you’re coming with me today then,” I said, slipping on a pair of white trainers before putting on the patchwork crochet cardigan Nanna had made me a few years ago. Titans head tilted to the side in that cute way dogs did at the soft tinkling of the charms that hung on the front of the door, the wind winding through them. I took my bag from another hook and dropped my phone inside, putting it over my shoulder before fishing my keys from the bowl I kept on the unit in the hall, a tangled mix of jewellery keeping it company.
Opening the front door, I felt the familiar tingle in my palms as I stepped through the shield Nanna, Briar, and I had put up when I first moved in. Waiting until Titan had followed, I whispered the words to ensure the rift was resealed before heading down the path towards the woods. The early morning sun kissed my face as Titan padded beside me, his huge head bowed to the floor sniffing everything in sight.
It wouldn’t take long to get to Nanna’s; I had walked this path countless times, the earth worn from my many steps. It was one of my favourite places to be, sheltered within the shade of the trees, the sun filtering to the floor and the birds calling to one another from above.
I hadn’t made it far, coming to a place where another trodden path crossed mine, when a twig snapped close by. My head whipped to the side, ears straining for another sound. Titan had continued on, knowing his way just as much as I did, apparently unfazed by anything around us. I started forward again, logic reasoning that it must be an animal or a branch breaking. Titan would never have left me if I was in danger.
What if it’s something else?
A hazy image of Nanna finding me deep within the trees fought to rise to the surface. I could feel the phantom grip of her hand on my arm as she dragged me through shadows, hissing as they came into contact with her but tickled along my own skin. I could swear I felt them now. Her angered words were muffled inside my mind as I frowned in confusion at the memory I couldn’t remember happening.
A wet nose nudged at my hand and my mind cleared as I blinked hard, finding Titan stood before me, tongue lolling from his mouth as he watched me. I rubbed at the wrist that had just been clutched in Nanna’s hand, fully expecting to see the imprint of her fingers. Tucking my cardigan closer to my body, I continued on. Titan didn’t wander this time.
The ripple of a ward passed over my skin as Nanna’s manor house came into view, the rough brown stone walls stretching out to meet the sizable hawthorn trees that grew on either side. A thick curtain of ivy covered almost the entire expanse of the top floor with thin, white-framed windows peeking through.
Crossing the front garden, the gravel crunched under my feet before I started up the wide steps that took me to the entrance. A dark stone porch framed the large front door, whose panes of glass contained a myriad of broken coloured fragments which refracted the sun into a hundred tiny rainbows when the light hit just right. Talismans hung in every corner, the scent of rosemary flooding my nose as the winds jostled the sprigs that dangled above me.
The wards let me slip through with ease as I pressed my hand to the handle, pushing the door open as Titan weaved around me, his clawed paws clicking on the tiled floor as we headed down the hall towards the soft sound of laughter. Pausing at the door to the kitchen, I listened to the joy that was filtering through the aged wood. Apparently done with waiting, Titan nudged at the door, his bulk shifting it open to reveal the spacious kitchen where I had spent so much of my life.
Double doors at the back of the room were thrown open, leading to the garden that grew most of Nanna’s food, allowing sunlight to stream in as the two of them sat curled in the soft cushioned chairs that were strewn along the paved floor.
Music floated around us from a record player tucked into the corner of the counter, but the sound of the door opening drew their attention.
“Elodie!” Briar exclaimed from her seat next to Nanna, jumping up to rush into the house towards me. I met her halfway, our arms wrapping around each other tightly, a surge of power pulsing through me before it faded away. Looking over her shoulder I could see Nanna beaming a watery smile at us, a mug of steaming liquid clutched in her hands.
A nudge at my hip broke us apart as Titan crowded against me.
“Titan,” Briar said, holding back a laugh as she held her hand out for him to sniff once before he moved between us to lie in a patch of sun, directly in the doorway.
She pulled me into her again before leaning back, her green eyes passing over my face, the lines around them a little tighter than the last time she was here. She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and I relished at the feeling of family that settled in my bones as she did.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, a deep sigh leaving her as we headed outside, stepping awkwardly over Titan to do so.
“Of course you have,” I replied as I sank into a chair next to her, her laugh loud and bright and familiar. The organized rows of growing vegetables spread ahead of us along with the thick leafy bushes ringing the yard, heavy ripened berries peeking from within.
Briar picked up her mug from the low table beside her, seeking its warmth. My eyes didn’t miss the ring that she wore on her middle finger, the thick golden band wrapped with delicate threads woven around tiny fragments of raw emeralds. It was one I had made her.
Nanna stood, moving past the dog-shaped obstacle in the doorway, to enter the kitchen and disappeared from view. I knew these moments together were bittersweet for her. Briar always left and each time I knew it chipped away at a part of her that took longer and longer to regain. Apart from these visits there was no contact—no calls, no letters. It was as though if she wasn’t here in front of us, she no longer existed.
Briar watched her, too, and I turned instead to the garden, chest aching at the pain that crossed her face.
A fluffy, speckled hen wandered out from underneath an overgrown patch of cabbages, another following shortly after pecking their way through the mud. Nanna had had the two chickens—Nugget and Drumstick—for suspiciously longer than what was a typical lifespan for such animals. I had been given the task of naming them as a child, along with a beautiful black silkie I’d named Cecelia who had escaped one day never to be seen again, much to my devastation.
Their gentle clucking made Titan’s ears twitch in their direction as they ambled his way. I was around ninety percent sure he wasn’t going to eat them considering the number of times I’d found them napping together in the sunshine.
“So,” Briar began, the light breeze blowing strands of her black hair around her face. “Tell me everything I’ve missed.”
I couldn’t even pin down how long she had been gone for, let alone fill her in on what had been happening during that time. My best guess is it had been two years since we had last seen her.
It’s not exactly like my life is jam-packed with adventure, though.
Nanna stepped outside then, a genuine smile on her face as she reached over and placed a hot mug into my hands, the steam curling in the air as my hands warmed against the porcelain, the bitter scent of coffee greeting me.
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking a sip and sighing as the hot liquid slid down my throat. “I don’t think there’s much to tell.”
I could start with I’m barely sleeping because of the awful nightmares I’ve been having lately.
“It’s mostly just been work.”
And I pulled the Tower card this morning but no biggy.
“My lemon tree finally grew a lemon, so that’s something.” Briar’s eyes narrowed slightly as the image of that card flitted through my mind, and I took another mouthful of coffee, hoping we could turn the conversation elsewhere.
“Elodie, you know I don’t care about your lemon tree.”
Rude. It had taken me 7 years to get it to fruit.
“No man friends to tell me about?” She wiggled her brows suggestively and I almost choked on the liquid still in my mouth.
“Ew, man friends ,” I half laughed, half coughed. “But no, none of them.”
“What about that one who drove around in that huge truck and had a couple of gold teeth?” she asked, her brows furrowed in thought.
“That was Polly.”
“Oh, well what about that tall man who only liked to eat green food?”
“Also Polly. And four years ago.”
How did she even know about that?
“Ah,” Briar said. “How is Polly?”
“Same old Polly, all over the place, her latest hobby is wicker weaving. I texted her earlier to tell her you’re here, so expect her to bring over a basket or ten.”
“I look forward to it.” She smiled. “Oh, what about that other man who was staying here? He always wore flip flops and had lots of dangly earrings?”
Polly and I had often crushed on one of the drifters who would find their way to Nanna’s manor house and more than not they would end up in one of our beds, which probably wasn’t Nanna’s intention for her guests.
“Ok, yeah, that one was me.” I grimaced at the memory of Lloyd and the phantom clanging of those earrings.
“Well, what happened to him?” I saw Nanna smile against the rim of her cup; she had already heard this story.
“He was very much into conspiracy theories. He thought the earth was flat and that the sun was just like some big flashlight in the sky.”
“Oh gods. You’re joking with me!” Briar's eyes widened as she pressed her mouth together to suppress her grin.
“Believe me, I wish I was. When I asked him, ‘If the earth is flat, how can there be different seasons in different parts of the world?’ and he actually cried, I knew he wasn’t the one for me no matter how pretty he was.” I replied with a grimace before we all fell apart laughing, the sound replenishing a part of me that had been running low.
“That’s a shame, he was one of the best-looking men I’d seen stay here,” she noted, wiping a tear from her eye.
“That he was,” Nanna answered with an appreciative nod.
“I do wish I’d have known before the end of our second date,” I said, as the laughter started again.
What I kept to myself was that particular conversation came after we’d been rolling around in bed. There’s nothing quite as off-putting as a grown man crying about the shape of the earth after you’ve just spent the last twenty minutes riding him.
I knew Briar would press me for more later, though not about men. About the things Nanna wouldn’t want us talking about, and I swallowed down more of my coffee trying to decide just how truthful I was going to be.