She was fresh-cut grass and fallen leaves and fields of flowers. She was rocky mountains and steep ravines and mossy canyons. She was sustenance, soil, nutrients, life. She was a voice, one of three, that had haunted my waking thoughts for so, so long.
She was Earth—Mother Earth.
Fiery green eyes flared, two beacons of chartreuse flame in this dark, musty, dirt world. “We finally meet, River Harlow.”
Chapter 39
“Gaia.” Whispered like a prayer, her name tangled on my tongue, as if I didn’t hold the divine right to speak it.
She bit the inside of her lip, pale yellow brows rising, cheeks growing fuller as if she…
Was she holding in a laugh?
“Now that you’ve dropped to your knees, you owe me twenty pushups.”
“I’m sorry.” The words, my mind, were a confusing, bumbling mess. I scrambled to right myself, forcing my soft legs to hold me. “What?”
Leaning on the curve of her full hip, Gaia crossed her arms. The scabbard fixed to her belt shifted with the motion. “You get this a lot, I’m sure, but you remind me so much of your mother.”
My throat bobbed. I could think of nothing to say. What could I say? I was a mere mortal beside her. I must have been staring. Fuck it, I know I was staring.
Airy laughter bubbled out of her, so light and carefree.
Oh my God, could she hear what I was thinking?
She waved towards the back of the cave. Come.
Her lips didn’t move, yet her voice rang against the stones, the walls, the bones, the hard-packed mud, she and the elements fused as one.
She stepped into the gloom, wings softly glowing and illuminating the path, thick heels indenting the dirt.
I glanced at my doppelgänger, whimpering in the corner. A pang of hurt lanced through my heart. What about her? I thought.
You’re not ready to face her, Gaia said, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. It’d been so long since she answered my thoughts, I almost forgot she could do it—almost forgot I’d spent a full decade giving up headspace to her and the other two archangels, Fei and Akosua. She’ll be there when you are. Don’t worry.
A chill raked my spine, as if the same emptiness that haunted that lonely girl in the corner had wrapped around me. I shook it off, jetting after Gaia.
Her silhouette burned back the shadows. When she turned down a tunnel, everything left behind pitched into darkness. Including me.
“Wait!” I said, hands flinging out in front of me as I fought my way through the lightless cavern, chasing after the faint glow of her wings.
She turned down a fork in the path. A faint roar rose from its depths.
My stomach twisted. Where are we going? I wondered.
I can’t stand the sight of the bones, she sighed. Some of those belong to my friends.
Her scribes. I gulped. The Coffin Seeker. He’d gloated that the inner caves were supposed to be the worst.
My palm clapped over my mouth as we turned down yet another winding hall.
Water trickled over the path, my feet sloshing in the loose dirt. Or was it blood…
Gaia interrupted my thoughts. It’s just water, River.
Just when my legs felt like they might give out, shafts of light streaked the dim corridor. I dared a glance at my feet. No bones, no bodies, only puddles and rocks. The roar I’d heard when we entered grew steadier, fiercer, louder.
The pathway opened up into a chamber, its ceiling as tall as a mountain peak. Ferns dripped from the walls and a waterfall thundered in the middle, its mist glittering in the air and dusting my cheeks.
