Chapter 17 #2
There were now two entrances into the cavern beneath the Playhouse.
The first was through a secret door that the Kildare coven had ensured was built when the Playhouse was originally constructed.
The second was through a gaping hole that my mother’s own green witch magic had created when she took control of the surrounding foliage, and decimated the side of the Playhouse with a combination of violently expanding roots and vines that crushed the supporting wall to rubble.
It was through this second, more easily accessible entrance that Jess and I now carefully climbed, picking our way through a minefield of rock and splintered wood, and a lush, almost jungle-like curtain of plant life that seemed in danger of swallowing the cavern completely.
At last, we managed to fight our way into the chamber hidden within; and I looked around, feeling all the air go out of me like someone had just punched me in the gut.
I hadn’t been down here since the night I followed the glamour-conceived doubles of the Gray Man and Bea, right into a trap.
It looked exactly as it had after my mother and aunts had rescued us, and I found that my heart was beating so fast it felt like a flutter in my chest. I should have realized it would be difficult to be here again, to relive the trauma of that night; but in all my preparations and worries over this night’s plan, I hadn’t stopped to consider the effect it might have on me.
My legs felt like water. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and my hands shook violently as I pressed them against the walls for support.
But, even all of this was secondary to the sight of the Source itself, pulsating with palpable and visible energy.
As I was processing all of this, Jess was walking purposely across the chamber toward the Source.
Her face, before it passed out of my line of sight, was alight with reverence, but without any of the hunger or malice that had lit up Veronica’s face when she had looked at it.
This realization alone restored just a little of my courage. It wasn’t a mistake bringing her here.
The Source itself was little more than a pile of ancient rubble upon a battered stone plinth.
Jess walked in a slow circle around its crumbled remains, which rose just enough on both sides to suggest that the rocks had once been built up into something more substantial—like an archway.
I watched as Jess moved closer, and I felt an urge to warn her not to get any closer; but then I realized what was different now than the last time I’d been here—well, besides the fact that a madwoman wasn’t pointing a gun at my friend.
The relentless pull of the Source was… muffled somehow. It no longer felt like an invisible magnetic force was pulling me toward it. I could still feel the attraction, and yet, it did not compel me, whisper to me, as it had when I’d first seen it all those months ago.
Jess dropped to her knees near the edge of the plinth, and seemed to be examining something. I started walking toward her, drawn not by that ineffable pull of the Source, but by my own burning curiosity.
“Is it… what you thought?” I asked, as I got closer. My mouth had gone dry, and I swallowed convulsively. “Is it a… a Gateway?”
Jess looked up at me, her expression very serious. “Oh yes. There’s no doubt about it. A Geatgrima once stood here.”
A great sense of relief washed through me. Answers at last. “How do you know?” I asked her.
“Well, let’s look at the most concrete evidence first. The plinth is consistent with the design of other Geatgrimas I have encountered.
You can see here, the runes that have been carved into the stones.
These once ringed the entire platform, forming a Casting—what you might call an incantation, I suppose, or maybe a spell.
Here, you can still see some of them, though time and damage have worn much of it away. ”
She gestured for me to join her on the ground, and after only a moment’s hesitation, I dropped down onto my knees.
She brushed some dust and sand away from the largest stone to reveal a shape almost like an arrow with a wavy shaft.
Then she lifted two pieces of broken stone, and showed me how they fit together—revealing another symbol like half a sun with rays shooting out in spokes.
The sight of them sent a shiver up my back and into my hair, though I had no idea what they meant.
“You can also see that the structure is still partially in place. These stones once stood in one large, solid archway. You can see this stone here used to rest right at the top,” she pointed to another symbol which, to my surprise, I recognized.
“I’ve seen that before,” I told her, tracing my finger through the air, mimicking the shape of the carving. It was like three spirals joined together at the center.
“It goes by many names,” Jess said, nodding, “and has appeared in many forms and with many meanings. We call it a triskele, or a triskelion. What does it mean in your tradition?”
“I saw it in one of our family’s books—a sort of textbook, I guess you could say, that I’ve been reading as part of my formal witch’s training.
It was used alongside a description of the witch’s cycle—Maiden, Mother, and Crone,” I said.
“Each phase is different, but powerful, and they are all connected.”
“In the Durupinen tradition, we think of this as three phases as well, but they refer to the phases of a spirit’s journey: the phase within the living body, the phase in the Aether, when the spirit first leaves the body, and then the phase beyond the Aether, after the spirit has crossed fully over into the spirit realm.
It is a central symbol to our sisterhood.
Even if nothing else had still existed of the original structure of the archway, seeing this one stone would have been enough to tell me what we’re dealing with here. ”
“How old is it?” I whispered.
“I won’t pretend to be an expert on accurately aging a structure like this,” Jess said slowly, “but I do know for sure that it was here for hundreds of years, before the witches settled Sedgwick Cove.”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around that sort of age, so I just nodded, and let the information roll off of me.
“Here’s the thing, Wren. We have a problem here. A big, big problem.”
I swallowed hard. “Just the one?” I asked, in a pathetic attempt at humor—an attempt that nonetheless elicited a slight smirk from Jess. “So… what is it?”
“Well, like I told you back at the bed and breakfast, I could sense a Gateway nearby, but I also knew that the energy, while still identifiable was… off. I would have wanted to see this place regardless, but the wrongness of that energy made me want to find it even more.”
“Well, it’s… it’s all broken apart,” I said, gesturing around to the rubble surrounding us. “I mean, that’s what’s wrong, isn’t it? It needs to be… rebuilt or something?”
But Jess shook her head. “It’s more than that.
” She leaned back until she was sitting on her haunches.
She gazed around at the rubble as though it made her inexpressibly sad.
“I’ve seen another Geatgrima in this kind of condition.
It was also destroyed. Forgotten. But that wasn’t what had broken it. ”
I found I was holding my breath, and forced myself to breathe as I listened to her.
“The truth is that, whether the archway stands to mark the place, the Gateway still exists. It should still be a location of safe passage for spirits to find their way through the veil to the spirit world. But this place—there’s something wrong with it,” Jess said, dropping her gaze again to the stones, and running a gentle finger over one of them. “Very, very wrong.”
I thought about the Darkness. About the things I hadn’t told her yet, because they felt at once too personal, and also not my secret to tell.
I couldn’t bring myself to say any of it.
Not here, not when the clock was ticking, and any moment someone might come and discover us here.
I swallowed hard, and still felt like I was choking on my own fear.
“Do you think you could explain this once we’re out of here? We need to hurry,” I said. “What else do we need to do to—”
“Wren?!”
I knew the voice that called my name. I leapt to my feet to find Persi standing inside the entrance to the cavern.
“Persi?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” she cried. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
Her hair was wild, but not as wild as the expression on her face. She hitched her thumb back over her shoulder. “You know I don’t trust them to keep a proper watch over the grimoire, so I’ve been checking in on it myself. Are you responsible for that aquatic spectacle out there?”
I smiled sheepishly. “Indirectly,” I admitted.
“Well, I don’t know what you think you’re doing down here, but the Conclave will boil you in a cauldron if they find you here unaccompanied. Now, come on, before someone comes ba—” Her eyes darted from my face to the Source and then, inevitably, onto Jess.
Shit. Shit.
For what felt like an endless moment, I panicked, my thoughts racing, my heart thundering, trying to figure out just what I could say to explain away this impossible situation; but my mind was an absolute blank. And then…
“It’s you!” Persi whispered.
My mind was racing to come up with an answer, but instead, a question exploded and derailed my attempts to explain.
How did Persi recognize Jess? She had never seen her before—she hadn’t been at home when Jess came to Lightkeep Cottage, and she’d never seen her body before I’d restored Jess’ spirit to it.
“You know her,” I said. It wasn’t a question. Persi was looking at Jess as though she’d seen a ghost—ironic, given the circumstances, and yet it made no sense. How could she know this woman staring calmly back at her? “You know her,” I repeated. “How?”
“I’ve… seen her before,” Persi confirmed. “Who is she?”
“Wait, so you… you’ve seen her, but you don’t know who she is?” I asked, feeling more confused by the minute.
“Who is she?” Persi repeated, as though she hadn’t even registered my question.
“She can speak for herself,” Jess said a little impatiently. “My name is Jess Ballard. And you are?”
Persi’s face, already stricken with shock, now drained of all color.
She swayed where she stood, and for a moment, I thought she was going to faint.
Her arm shot out, and she pressed her hand against the wall of the cavern to steady herself.
Unsure if she’d even heard Jess’ question, I answered for her.
“Jess, this is my aunt. Persephone Vesper. Aunt Persi, this is Jess Ballard who, as it turns out, is not actually dead.”
Persi was sputtering now, recovering both her voice and her penchant for ordering people around. “I don’t understand. I can’t… both of you need to come with me,” she said sharply.
Jess and I exchanged glances.
“Please,” Persi said, and there was sheer panic in her voice. “Now, before anyone sees us.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Persi, who had already turned back toward the entrance to the cave, looked back over her shoulder at us as she answered. “You asked me how I know her,” she said, pointing to Jess. “Come with me right now, and I’ll show you.”