Anne Bishop - Sebastian

A freshwater pond would suit them, but the waterhorses came from a northern climate, so this landscape should have been too cold for death rollers. Unless the creatures had changed in the long years they’d been taken out of the world and were no longer dependent on the heat of the sun to warm their bodies.

Or the pond was nothing more than a place where they would hunt for prey and then go back to their own, warmer landscape. Either way, the Eater needed a way to reach this landscape in order to alter the pond, which meant It had an anchor nearby that was small enough to escape detection—or there was a bridge Lee didn’t know about that was giving It access.

And if It had access to this landscape, it could reach the Den or take the bridge to…

Oh, Guardians of the Light, was that why there was something wrong with Nadia? Had the Eater of the World crossed over the bridge to Aurora? Was it already altering the village, changing streets into rust-colored sand so that anyone who walked there would be pulled into the bonelovers’ landscape? Would the pond where children swam in the summertime become a hunting ground for death rollers? Or what if It hadn’t reached the village? It wasn’t that far between the border of this landscape and Sebastian’s cottage—and the bridge that crossed over to the path that led to Nadia’s home was behind the cottage. What if she was under attack? What if Lee stumbled into trouble and was seriously injured before he had time to impose his island over whatever was happening at home and get himself, Nadia, and Jeb to safety? And what about Nadia’s gardens? Every one of those landscapes had a bridge that crossed over to Sanctuary. And that was the Eater’s ultimate goal: to crush the places that were beacons of Light, the places people, simply by knowing they existed, used to hold on to feelings of love and kindness and hope.

So why was she worried about horse-shaped demons being fodder for death rollers and bonelovers and whatever else the Eater was bringing back into the world? She could alter the landscape. She had the power to rip this chunk of the world away, to take it out of the world so completely it would be lost forever. It wouldn’t move, not physically, but the eye wouldn’t see it, the mind wouldn’t recognize it, and the heart wouldn’t acknowledge it. No access. No bridge to cross over. And if a heart did acknowledge that dark place…No way out once the person stumbled into that landscape.

Are you going to give up another piece, Glorianna? Are you going to become like the other Landscapers who thought demons didn’t matter, didn’t deserve a place of their own in the world, didn’t need that breathless moment when something beautiful catches the eye and dazzles the heart? Are you going to give them up because they aren’t human? Neither are you. Not completely. You don’t have that comforting lie anymore. Whatever you came from might have bred with humans so that, all these generations later, you live in a human body, but your power isn’t human. Was never human. Landscapers focus on humans because the human heart can create so much—and destroy so much.

But other beings shouldn’t be forgotten. You knew that when you were a student, felt that need from those no one else wanted to think about. Even demons need a home. Even a dark landscape should feel the warmth of the Light. Why have you forgotten that?

Glorianna stopped. Turned around. Night had fallen, and she had no sense of how far she’d walked or in what direction. Her emotions were so churned up, she had no idea where the pond was in relation to where she stood.

“Insidious bastard,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you gave me that gut-jab of fear, but I won’t forget you can use my own heart as a weapon against me. I won’t give up the landscapes in my care. Not even this one. And I won’t let you have any of them. I’ll find a way to defeat you. I’ll find a way to do alone what it took hundreds like me to do the last time. And by the time I’m finished, I will lock you in a landscape even you will find unbearable.”

She closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly, evenly, until she could feel the resonance in the land. Until she could feel the dissonance once more.

And something else, drawn to the strength of her feelings.

Ephemera. Ready to manifest her feelings and make them real.

Wait, she told it, sending gentle restraint as she walked back to the pond. Wait.

When she smelled the blood and vomit, she stopped. In her mind, she pictured lines of power—red with anger, black with despair—running from where she stood straight into the heart of the pond. Then she let her feelings flood through her and become a channel for the world.

“Despair makes a desert,” she whispered, watching grass and rich earth turn to sand, sensing the water in the pond changing to sand. “And anger…makes…stone.”

Boulders pushed up from the earth, forming a cage around what had been the pond. Smaller stones edged the sand, separating it from the grass. As the last stone formed beneath her feet, Glorianna stepped back.

Altered landscapes. A piece of desert in a place that knew nothing of deserts. A one-way border…but not a boundary. This place would be visible to the eye and could be avoided. Anyone who crossed the border of stones would find sand and heat and little else. And no way back to the waterhorses’ landscape.

The death rollers would die there.

But there was still an anchor—or a bridge—somewhere in this landscape that had allowed the Eater of the World to return.

Enough, she thought. Lee can locate a bridge a mile away from where he’s standing, but you can’t. That’s not your gift. It’s time to go home.

She walked for a little while, not caring about the direction, just wanting to feel the land. It was a dark landscape, but it was good land. Rich land. Oh, human fears had seeped into it, but also relief and joy.

She smiled. The waterhorses were changing, weren’t thinking of all humans as prey or the enemy anymore. They were beginning to realize it was as much fun to scare a drunken fool by giving him a fast ride and a cold dunk as it was to kill a man. And the man, given that moment to see that his life could end and have that life given back, was also given a chance to change. Opportunities and choices. For some it would change nothing. For others it would take them on a different path, lead them to another landscape, bring a little more Light into the world.

Calm again, she focused on her heart and will, took the step between here and there, and stepped into her garden a moment later.

It wasn’t until she’d gone back to her house to wait for Lee to return that she thought about the horse’s head again—and wondered what had happened to the traveler.

Sitting alone on a bench in her personal garden, Nadia watched Lee stop and study the plants that had turned brown overnight.

“Frost?” Lee asked as he walked to the bench. “At this time of year?”

“Frost,” Nadia agreed sadly. She tapped her chest. “That came from here.”

Lee sat down beside her. Looked at her.

He had his father’s eyes, that green that could be soft and dreamy at times or darken toward stormy gray with a mood—or, like now, be clear and penetrating.

Her boy. But he wasn’t really hers. Not for a lot of years now.

“What’s troubling you, Mother?” Lee asked gently.

No, not her boy. As much as he loved her—and she knew he did—he wasn’t hers. “Did Glorianna send you?”

“She knows something is wrong. Something strong enough to resonate through your landscapes.”

“She’s right.” After all, the heart held no secrets from Glorianna Belladonna. “When I went to a town in one of my landscapes, something touched me, contaminated me.”