Chapter Thirty Eight: Nathaniel [Full]

Have you ever had a moment when the world feels like it's crumbling beneath your feet?

To an outsider, you're just taking a long pause. But internally, you're dissolving, drowning in news that has changed your life forever, an irreversible alteration that will play on your mind, repeating this moment, until the end of your days.

I don't remember coming out of my world-altering phase. Actually, I don't even remember being in it. All I see is Nate's lips, mouthing those fatal words, over and over.

She killed Nate, she killed Nate, she killed Nate—

And I remember the blood on my fists as I hit her, in the good old traditional way.

But that's when I wake up. She's on the ground, I'm pinning her, beating the living shit out of her— and she doesn't fight back. She just lies there and cries.

What kind of heartless murderer cries? How can I feel hatred over someone so pathetic? I grimace. Her face is a mess; I think I've broken her nose. There's blood staining her teeth, and there's a bruise across her cheek.

As for me, I'm unharmed. She hasn't fought back. She didn't even put up her hands to shield her face. Nate's voice has gone, and it's me, making all the decisions, my mother's life in my hands.

And I realise— I don't know what to do. My previous five years has bubbled down to finding who was responsible for killing my twin— a case the detectives had washed their hands clean of only weeks after it happened. All that effort, all the agony, the lying awake and plotting...

And I've found that person I've hated so easily without knowing who they are. It is so easy to hate when there's no emotion to see, no sobbing to tune out.

But my next question comes from the heart, after five years of waiting.

I ask, in a very tiny voice, 'Why?'

My knees come off her chest, and she heaves a breath. Coughing and rolling into a sitting positon, she keeps her eyes on me, as if sure I'll attack again.

Maybe, if her answer isn't satisfactory, I will.

If she's scared, my mother doesn't show it. She leans against Nate's gravestone, her fingers reaching for it in a trembling way. After they find it, she shuts her eyes and lets out a long, slow breath.

'Why...' she repeats, knitting her eyebrows in pain. 'Why did I kill Nathaniel? Sweet, innocent Nathaniel? Why did I leave him for you to find? Why did I take you two in? Why did I leave? Where do I start for the wrongs I have caused you?'

My knuckles twitch, my fingers curling into a fist. 'All of it,' I say through clenched teeth.

'Then, from the beginning then,' she sighs, opening her eyes once more. When she does, there's a lost, haunted look in them. 'With feeling...'

In the distance, a bird calls.

'It was the morning of my wedding day that I first met her. I was nervous; I was marrying young, and I was marrying because I thought I was pregnant.

'I was seventeen. I'd met Danny— your father— a few months before, and it was near to the choosing ceremony of the Bride. I slept with him out of necessity and fear rather than love, but to my terror, the contraceptive tonic my friend gave me the next morning failed— or so I thought. Our parents thought it would be proper if we married.

'So, the day of the ceremony dawned. It was to be a small party, at a nearby temple to the Goddess of Love, but I was nervous. As I said before, I married your father out of necessity, not love...and back then, I was in love— but with a girl who had no idea how I really felt.'

My mother pierces my eyes then with a sad, terrible stare.

'The girl who gave you the contraception?' I ask.

She nods. 'Although, I'm almost confident she wanted me pregnant. She loved babies. She was so excited for me that when I met this woman who told me she could bless me with twins, I accepted...thinking of her. It was foolish, I know, but I had this image of us raising my children, almost as if we were a couple.

'The lady gave me a bouquet of flowers for my wedding. She said the flowers would blossom as my pregnancy came to term, but without them, my babies would be stillborn.

I cared for the flowers, and in turn, I gave birth to two twins. A boy and a girl.'

'Me and Nate...?' I whisper.

To my dismay, she shakes her head.

'No sooner had I given birth and I was alone with the two infants, the woman appeared once more. She told me that by right, those babes were hers, because without her help, they would have been cold from the womb. She was powerful...she wasn't even human. I was barely eighteen and afraid of what she could do. She brought with her two other infant twins, just born, and she exchanged the two.'

She heaves a choking sob, stuffing a hand against her mouth to stop the tears. I don't move to help; I'm apathetic, waiting for her to continue. She mutters, 'I never even got to name my children. She gave me yours: Nerissa and Nathaniel.

'She gave me very specific instructions. I would see my children again when both those children had passed. I was to kill the boy around the age of thirteen. The girl was not my problem.'

My mother stops speaking. Her voice has gone very, very quiet, and her shoulders are hunched, still. She licks her lips, wetting them, before continuing on.

'Life after that changed. I grew to learn that my husband was a gambler, and he in turn realised that I was severely depressed. I could barely look after myself, let alone two babies. He quit his job to take care of us. He drank. I tried to bury myself in work. He gambled. All the while, I knew that the more I saw Nathaniel, the more I felt my sanity slipping away. Meanwhile, my friend, who I had been in love with for so long, admitted that she felt the same for me.

'We ran away together, taking her children from her failed marriage. I left my babies to a goddess, and the changelings to my husband.'

'Changelings,' I hear a whisper. I realise my voice has spoken in Nate's tongue once more, and the word is bitter and heavy.

My mother splutters another cry. 'I hate myself. I hate what I did to you, and I hate what I let happen to me.'

'Do you see what she did, Nerissa? She played into their hands. She was weak. We are all the pawns here— pawns to higher powers.'

My tongue curls around words that aren't my own. It's difficult to have a conversation with myself, but somehow, I manage.

'But Nate...who was that woman? And why would she exchange us?'

'Because they always wanted you to be the Little Saint Bride, Ness. They planned you, and they planned me. They planned my death. I've had five years to think this through. What else could they want?'

'Who is they?'

'Our mother, Demeter, the Lady of the Spring Court. And her loyal subjects.'

'Our...mother?' the word sounds alien, and laughable to my own ears. There's no way— I can't believe it. Not without seeing Nate. Not whilst having this conversation with my own body.

'I want to see you,' I say. My voice cracks. I'm so, so tired— and yet, I'm desperate to see my brother once more. Even if it's as a ghost, I want to see him.

What had Sybella told me? I have to expand my inner core energy. Clamping my eyes shut, I acknowledge everything I usually miss; the sound of the still air, the touching sensation of my feet on the ground, how the Hadrian's stolen clothes feel against my body. And I notice that tingling in my stomach once more, and the bubble that I keep so tightly wrapped around myself to ward away harm. I open it, letting my energy disperse, feeling vulnerable but aware.

And then, I realise, Nate has been next to me the whole time.

It's like I've turned at the right angle, enough that is image comes into view. His form is solid, not ghostly— as if I could reach out and hug him.

Nate grins back at me.

He's exactly as I remember— literally. He hasn't aged a day; he's now my little brother, and I'm a head taller than him. There's still a boyish roundness to his face, a youth that I probably lost the days following his death. Nate's hair has the dark coppery curls that mine does, but short and cropped to match his jawline.

'Welcome back, little brother,' I whisper, vision blurring.

'I never left, sis,' comes his reply.

I begin to cry.

Perhaps, at the beginning, my tears are dainty. But soon enough, I'm drawing wracking breaths that even my mother is giving me a frightened look. Snot stuffs my nose and my cheeks redden as I wail because after all these years, I'm finally grieving that my brother is, irreversibly, dead.

I spent so long hating the world that I forgot to love his memory.

Nate's touch flows through me, but it's comfort enough. I collapse to the floor, onto my knees, and as a light misting rain begins to fall I can't help but feel lost and afraid.

'Five years,' I hiccough, 'I missed you, Nate. I never said goodbye.'

Nate smiles sadly. 'Nessie, you wouldn't have said goodbye, even if I could have warned you. You would have fought. You would have died in my place.'

'And I bloody well should have!' I growl, rubbing away furious tears. 'You could have changed the world! Look what I've done!'

I gesture at the mask, still tied atop my head, and my dark, gothic clothes that are stolen from my husband. Then, seeing Nate's bemused face, I think he mustn't know.

'There are my husband's...well, fiancé's...no, actually, he's not my anything, but...I took these from him after I'd tied him up...' I'm mumbling at the grass.

'You...tied him up?' Until that point, there had been no scientific proof that a ghost could blush. But, now I see it. Nate's cheeks, reddened at the thought of his sister tying up a man. '...and stole his clothes?' Nate frowns, thinking slowly. 'Where were your clothes?'

'It's...' I take a breath, noticing that the misting rain is catching onto my cheeks and hair, hiding my tears and washing them away. Had I not, just a few moments ago, felt as though my world was fogged?

And yet, when remembering of my adventures with Hadrian and Mercer and Cerberus and damn, even Chronus— I can't help but smile. In fact— I can't wait to go home.

Home.

How can it be a home, when I've been there such a short while? But there's no doubt in my heart. After all this running, there's a place I'm meant to be.

'Nessie?'

I blink. Nate had been talking to me, and I'd entirely zoned out. I grin at him, surprising him with my change in demeanour.

'Actually, I have quite a long story to tell you,' I admit, 'and it starts with me getting married.'

Nate sighs. 'I heard. The King of the Underworld, huh? I should have known you'd get into trouble...but I could never imagine you'd get into man trouble.'

'Gee, thanks, bro. How did you know?' I cock my head, annoyed that my gossip had already been told.

'Our dad,' Nate mutters. 'He comes to my grave, every day, and tells me how you're getting on.'

My mouth opens in surprise. I can't imagine my drunken, gambling father doing anything than drunken gambling. But being spiritual?

Nate sees my expression and nods, laughing. 'He's been keeping me updated with no idea that I'm actually listening. He thinks you were suicidal for volunteering to be Bride.'

'Actually, I did it for you,' I interject. 'I saw Hadrian come to collect your soul, I knew he existed. I believed my answers to your death lay below. Little did I know you where exactly where I left you.'

'You played into Spring's hands,' our adoptive mother snaps from a few metres away.

Taken aback by the sudden interruption, we both spin around.

'What was that?' I mutter. Nate shoots me a look that says he couldn't stop me hurting her, and half of him wouldn't stop me even if he could.

'You heard me,' she says, 'I did what they wanted, and so did you.'

I glare at her with cold derision. 'How could they have known I'd volunteer to sacrifice myself? It was a long shot, I'll admit. Not one of my saner plans.'

She gives me a leering smile. 'Maybe they knew you weren't quite sane.'

I turn away from her.

This time, she would not ruin our moment.

'Nate...I would like to accompany you to the Underworld. I have power now, power to be able to save you. This time, I want your soul to be free.'

My brother looks back at me. There's a thousand emotions there, but I think pride has to be the largest one.

But then he swallows hard, looking nervous. 'Nessie, what if they judge me? I...my body was used to do terrible things...I couldn't stop it. I believe in heaven and hell, Nerissa, but I don't want to go to hell. At least here, I can see the sun and the stars.'

I take his hand, although we can't touch, and give him a reassuring, cocky smile. 'Don't worry. I know from experience that you will do well. If I can pass, well, you'll pass with flying colours.'

As long as Hadrian doesn't try to have sex with you. That was my downfall. I try to keep a straight face at that thought.

He nods, some of the fear ebbing away. 'I'm still scared,' he admits.

'I'll be there with you,' I say, 'I'll go with you to the edges of this life and beyond.'

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Thanks for all your votes guys, here is the finished chapter 38! What do you think?

Nerissa's journey isn't finished...but Book One is nearly over. Currently trying to think of a title for #2....any ideas? ;')

lots of Love

Larissa