Chapter Thirty-Six
.
The wind is knocked out of me. Sometime after Alistair left the Roaring Twenties to live in the Ice Age, the valley he grew up in was turned into a man-made lake. Everything is underwater, including the cave.
I don't want to believe it. This can't be Warkstone!
I shove open the taxi's back door so I can get a better view. As I exit, my vision blurs around the edges. My feet slip out from underneath my weakened knees. If I hadn't caught the car frame in the nick of time, I would have face-planted on the pavement.
"Whoa!" Liam, the taxi driver, shouts. "You all right?"
I dismiss his concern with a flick of my hand. There are more important things to worry about, such as searching for proof that there's been a major mistake. I refuse to believe that Warkstone could have vanished off the map.
I begin analyzing the landscape. The mountains around the reservoir have a muted majesty. Their gray, rocky peaks are picturesque against the blue sky. Further down their slopes, grass grows like lush green carpet. Although wooded areas sprout up here and there, they are insignificant dots compared to the vastness of the mountain range, or fells as the locals call them.
One mountain stands above the rest. It's with a sinking feeling that I realize I recognize it. Alistair called it Mount Hag due to an outcrop of rock that resembles an old lady's hooked nose. It's a landmark known for miles around. A glacier accompanied that mountain once upon a time, and I'm one of the few people to have ever seen it. Alistair said the ancient sheet of ice would melt as the earth warmed, eventually forming a small lake he greatly admired.
Look at this place now. Alistair's beloved lake was transformed into a monster of a reservoir. It consumed the entire valley! The cave and Alistair's chair are somewhere down there. Even if I knew how to scuba dive, I wouldn't know where to begin to look.
A strangled whimper comes out of me. I've tightened my grip on the car frame to keep myself from collapsing again. Now I understand why the authorities said I was found soaking wet. It wasn't from the rain like they had assumed - it was from the lake. After Ewar and Alistair zapped me through time and space, I ended up in the underwater cave. Miraculously, I survived and floated out of it. Those teenage boys probably found me washed up on shore, not far from where they had been illegally camping.
I should feel fortunate. But I don't. Far from it.
Liam steps out from the driver's side of the taxi. "You look ill," he says as he makes his way around to where I am. "Maybe you should sit down for a spell."
My mouth moves but I'm having trouble forming words. How do you explain to a stranger that your life is over - that you're trapped in a time and place that you no longer belong - without seeming absolutely bonkers?
Simply put: you can't.
I inhale and exhale through my nose to calm myself. All I want is to be left alone, to mourn in peace. That won't happen if he thinks I'm having a mental health crisis.
"It's fine. I'm just... disappointed," I say in a wavering voice. "Some people I'm close to were linked to this valley, and I wanted to see it for myself. I didn't realize it no longer exists."
"Oh, I get it. You're working on your family tree, aren't ya? Lot of Americans come over here for that."
"Yeah." That explanation works as well as any. "I guess I should have researched more before I came all this way."
"Well, don't fret. The parish church of Warkstone was demolished but all the records were saved. I can't remember exactly where they're kept now, though. You might want to try the nearest register office. Would you like for me to drive you there?"
"No, thanks. I think I'll stay here and... go for a walk. It's what I had planned to do anyway."
He stares a moment longer than what is necessary. "All right," he replies hesitantly. "There's a hotel on the other side of the reservoir. Aldenwood. It's an old mansion they remodeled to accommodate guests. Nice place but real pricey. You'll find a much better rate at the inn. Shouldn't take more than an hour's walk once you hit the main road. Just follow the signs to the nearest village."
I acknowledge his advice with a head nod. I'm also biting my lower lip to keep it from trembling. All I have to do is hold it together a little longer...
Liam drags my backpack and walking cane out of the car, an act of chivalry which I thank him profusely. He hints around that if I get too tired hiking, I should call the taxi service to pick me up. "Sure," I reply, but I don't mean it. He climbs back in the driver's seat, and with a backwards wave of the hand, leaves me standing alone in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot.
As soon as he is out of sight, I drop the act. My posture deflates like a popped balloon.
I remain frozen in place, unsure of what my next move should be. Every so often, I hear people from somewhere in the near vicinity. They talk and laugh as they enjoy the great outdoors. And why shouldn't they? The sun is shining. Birds are tweeting. The mountain air is cool, clean, and refreshing.
But it's the end of the world. No one realizes it except me.
The parking lot is too exposed. The hiking trail is a better option. I stagger along the path, desperate for a place where I can have some semblance of privacy. After a good deal of walking, I come across a small rock ledge overlooking the water. It's a scenic point, allowing an unobstructed view for miles around. Along with the many natural wonders the area offers, I spot a large stone building in the distance. It's almost a castle in size and grandeur. That must have been Alistair's ancestral home, Aldenwood. I still can't believe someone turned his country estate into a fucking hotel.
Across from where I am is Mount Hag. She has stood guard over the land for eons. If she were a living being, she would know exactly where the cave is hidden and how to reach it. But I sense something sinister about her. Mount Hag is undoubtedly a nasty, merciless witch. Even if I could ask her, in my heart, I know she would refuse to tell me anything. She would only cackle, greatly amused at my helpless situation.
The emotional dam bursts. I gasp for air, but I can't seem to find enough. Tears cascade down my face, dripping from my chin in a torrent.
It's not fair.
I went through surgery, pain and depression, plus weeks of therapy to learn how to walk and function normally again. I did it all with the single purpose of returning home. What do I do now that "going home" appears to be out of the question?
Damn you, Ewar. You shouldn't have sent me away. It was too risky. Head injury or not, I should have stayed where you are!
My hand slides into my front pocket. I pull out my comb, the only connection to him I have left. I hope to draw strength from it like it's done for the past three months. It doesn't work this time. A comb is a shitty replacement for the person you love.
What comes next? I try looking forward, to find a reason to keep going. Yet, all I see are endless years ahead. Nothing will bring me pleasure. I'll be dreaming of the past but trapped in the present. The family I found, dear friends, and the man I love are all gone. A day won't go by without me shutting down, grieving their loss. Their bones would have turned to dust long before the pyramids of Egypt were constructed.
My teeth grind together to hold in a scream.
This is too much. I can't stand it!
I WON'T stand it.
The wind picks up from the north, whipping my hair into a frenzy. Small waves lap at the base of the cliff. The churning water draws my attention, calling me like a Siren. It looks deep here. And dark. As long as there are no witnesses, someone could conceivably jump in and never be found.
It's surprising how quickly my mind is made up.
I am going to find that cave and save the chair. I will swim every inch of this reservoir if I have to. And if that's impossible... then I just won't resurface. Either way, I'll be with Ewar again - even if it must be in the hereafter.
My hiccuping cries go quiet now that there's work to be done. I slip the backpack off my shoulders, allowing it to drop to the ground. I empty my pockets of everything except Ewar's comb. It's the only personal belonging that I can't be without. My phone and wallet are placed on top of the growing pile of discarded items. My jacket has been added too. It would only hinder my movements underwater, so it has to go.
I move closer to my destiny. The toe of my right boot dangles over the edge. I take one final peek. A shiver rolls down my spine. The drop is more than I first calculated. It's going to hurt when I land.
I exhale and slam my eyes shut. Don't be a coward. Just one more step...
"I think we're getting close!"
My head snaps up. Two women are coming this way. I retreat to my abandoned backpack and pretend I'm simply taking a break from hiking. Acting natural is key. I just need to wait until these hikers pass before trying again.
The women stop several feet away from where I'm sitting. I avert my gaze to the lake so they won't see my tear-stained cheeks.
"What a pretty spot this is!" one of them says.
"Yes, it's breathtaking."
They chatter about everything under the sun, delighting in the scenery. I tune out most of it.
"What's this spot called? I want to find it on my map," the louder one declares.
"There's a sign over there... Ugh! Would you look at that. Someone's vandalized it!"
"Why dirty up a sign with graffiti? It seems a waste of time."
"I couldn't agree more. And this isn't even good graffiti. It's so savage and unrefined. My grandson could do a better job than this rubbish. At least he stopped painting with his hands in nursery school!"
The two ladies move on, never once acknowledging my presence. Yet, something they said gnaws at me. There's an odd sense of urgency, insisting I should turn around to see what the fuss was about. It wouldn't take much effort. All I'd have to do is look, then I can get back to what I was doing before I was interrupted.
Slowly, I turn away from the lake. My eyes follow the trail until I spot a sign nailed to a post.
The gasp that follows could probably be heard for miles around.
I jump to my feet. My cane works overtime to get me safely where I need to go. I barely pay attention to obstacles. The sign lists the names and distances of landmarks in the immediate area. Around those stenciled words are paintings, the so-called graffiti. Swirls, dots, and a single handprint. They are in varying earth tones; brown, charcoal black, and dull red. It's as if someone ground up natural materials to make the paint.
My body starts shaking like a leaf. Long ago, I watched an artist draw those same designs on a cave mural.
It's too much to hope. Even so, I find myself reaching out to see if it's real. My hand goes to rest on top of the handprint. The person who made this has fingers that are long and thick, tapering elegantly as they go up.
How many times had we been in bed, firelight holding back the night, while he compared our hands palm to palm? He would always express amazement at the size difference. His hands swallowed mine in the most wonderful way.
I breathe out one precious word.
"Ewar?"
I swing around before my feet can receive the message from my brain. I fall straight to the ground. Even with scraped-up hands and bruised knee, I feel no pain.
Can it be true? Did Ewar make that handprint? Is it possible that he's here somewhere?
And if he is, where the fuck is he!
Scurrying to stand upright again, I begin looking all around. This place is enormous. There are two hiking trails. One skirts the edge of the lake. It's an easy walk and offers little shelter. The other path wanders up and down the mountain range. It crosses near numerous crags, boulders, woodlands, and bogs. In short, it has plenty of suitable places to hide.
The mountain path is where I set my sights.
I collect my things and throw on my backpack. It takes a while for me to track down the correct trailhead, but when I do find it, the hike is brutal. The slope in some places is a bitch to climb even when you're not dealing with severe balance issues and a walking cane. I slip, slide, and trip more times than I can count. Nevertheless, I keep going, a breathless prayer on my lips the entire time.
"Please, let him be here. Please. Oh, please."
I have to be thorough. No place can be left unchecked. My search through a bog is unsuccessful but not surprising. I can't imagine anyone seeking shelter in such a wet place. The first patch of woods I reach is a letdown as well. It's so small I'm able to walk through it in under half a minute. Whoever owns this section of land keeps the underbrush under control. Few weeds reside here. Even the trees are pruned. I move further down the path to another collection of trees. Then, another. I search them from end to end. Both contain evidence that people sometimes camp here, but nothing to indicate it was Ewar.
It isn't until I'm in the higher elevations do I come across something promising: a single handprint on a rock the size of a volleyball. It's off the path and further up the slope. I abandon the trail altogether. Another patch of woods is within sight and nestled between two mountain peaks. I'm determined to check it out.
But first I'll have to climb.
Standing is out of the question. The slope is too challenging. If I were to fall, I would roll like a tumbleweed to my death. I'm practically on my hands and knees crawling up the mountainside. It takes forever to get where I want to go. I discover that the woods aren't exactly level either, but at least I can stand on my own two feet as long as I am careful. The other wooded areas I checked were so well-maintained you would think they belonged to a city park. This place, however, is larger and overgrown. A few of the trees are lying on their sides, knocked down due to past storms or dead from diseases. It's a less desirable campsite in many ways. The uneven slope would make it difficult to set up a tent. Limbs and weeds litter the forest floor. It would feel wild and vaguely unsettling to your average hiker.
Then, I see it.
I might have passed right over it if I hadn't been paying close attention. One of the fallen trees has more than what first meets the eye. Covering a small portion of it is a lean-to made of sticks. Its roof is covered with dead leaves and mud. It's basically a room open from three sides, offering minimal protection from the elements.
A shadowy figure sits cross-legged inside, unmoving and staring into space.
My footsteps are cautious as I creep closer. It's definitely a man. He has dark circles under his eyes. The lower half of his face is covered in a thick, rusty beard. And his clothes are outlandish. He wears a dress shirt that's yellowed with age. A small patch of his chest hair is exposed due to the fact that the shirt is too small to button up all the way. Covering his legs are trousers that end well above his kneecaps. The clothes appear to be meant for someone much shorter (and less well-built) than this man. He wears a necklace as well. The stone pendant is carnelian red, made in the image of a goddess.
My heart skips a beat.
"Ewar!"
Dazed, empty green eyes slowly sweep around. They eventually find me. He stares. He blinks. His expression twists, brow furrowing.
"Bella?"
I make a noise in the back of my throat, a half cry. I shove off my backpack. The walking cane falls to the ground. My arms extend out, beckoning him.
He's on his feet an instant later.
I don't know who runs first, but we meet somewhere in the middle. He catches me around the waist and crushes me to him, squeezing so tight neither one of us can breathe properly - not that I'm complaining. Soon, he finds my lips. Our kisses are wet and frantic, starving for more. His beard tickles my nose but I don't dare pull away.
He is the one that slows us down. His finger begins tracing my face. My chin and lips are of special interest to him. He even dries my cheeks. I wasn't aware I was still crying until now.
"It's you," he whispers in his native tongue. "You're alive."
"Yes. And you're here! How is that possible? I thought you'd be with Alistair, waiting for me to return home. Did he send you to come and get me?"
He gives a befuddled look. "Bella, I brought you here."
"What? I don't... I don't understand."
He slides a hand down his face. "Tell me what you remember."
I shrug. "The battle. Ora coming after me. You... killing him. Then, nothing. I think I saw bits and pieces of what was going on around me, but I don't know what was real and what was a dream. I do seem to remember you carrying me to the cave. Can you tell me what happened?"
The brightness to his eyes fades like a sunset. "One of Ora's men threw a weapon. It was meant for me, but you pushed me out of the way." His nostrils flare. "You wouldn't wake up. Arl tried everything. But your wound... It was bad, Bella."
His gaze settles on my forehead. With no warning whatsoever, he reaches for my hat. I'm not ready for him to look underneath it yet. My scar is hideous. I catch his wrist and lean my cheek into his palm to distract him.
"Tell me more," I plead softly.
He exhales. "Alistair had the idea first, to send you back to your homeland. He said your people would have powerful medicines that might cure you. He offered to take you back himself - but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't be away from you." Ewar frowns. "I don't like to think what might have happened if I had let Alistair have his way."
My mind is a whirlwind. Sensing my confusion, Ewar takes me by the elbow and guides me out of the woods and down the slope. The two of us reach the hiking trail. He gazes at the reservoir, mountains, and beyond.
"Alistair made me change into these clothes," he grumbles. "He said I couldn't wear a tunic and loincloth in the world you were born. He got me to sit on the... chair while I held you. He said not to worry, that it would take us where we needed to go. I didn't trust the chair, but it was our only hope."
He gives a thousand-yard stare.
"The ride was worse than any nightmare. I don't see how you ever did it by yourself, Bella. And then..." He gulps. "We were inside the cave again. But... but water was everywhere. It went up my nose and down my throat. We were floating, and drowning. I almost lost my hold of you. I had to swim for the both of us." He points at the eastern section of the reservoir. "The cave is down there. It was darker than night. For a while, I didn't know if we would reach the surface before I ran out of air.
"I swam us to shore and found a trail - just as Alistair instructed me. He said to leave you where someone else could find you." Unfathomable pain crosses Ewar's face. "I didn't want to. You were so cold. Your lips were blue. It took everything in me to hide and let those boys carry you away." His damp eyes meet mine. "Alistair told me to wait and not be seen. He claimed it wouldn't be safe to show myself; that I might get into trouble. He couldn't say how long it might take for you to come back from the... hos-pit-al. He told me to be patient and to leave signs so you could find me. But when the trees began to change color, I started to wonder if you... if you were even alive."
He goes quiet. I'm staring in disbelief.
"Ewar, are you saying you've been here - waiting for me - all this time?"
He gives a single nod of the head.
A sob bursts out of me. I slap a hand over my mouth, but the tears cannot be suppressed. He slings an arm around my shoulders, murmuring words of comfort. That's when I snap out of it. He shouldn't be comforting me. This man was forced to live outdoors for three fucking months!
"I'm so sorry! If I had known, I would have tried harder to find you sooner..."
"Shhh. It's all right. Please don't cry."
Sniffing, I place my palm against his whiskery cheek. It's then that I notice how much of his face that beard is hiding. "You're so thin!"
He looks me straight in the eyes. "So are you."
His accusation is annoyingly accurate. "Just a little." Another thought interrupts before I can come up with a retort. "The chair! Do you have it?"
"I swam back to the cave after you were taken away. The chair... it's gone. I think my foot must have dragged it out of the cave by accident while we were swimming." He waves a hand at the vastness of the reservoir. "It could be anywhere."
Silence comes between us. He is the first to break it. He can barely look in my direction.
"I am sorry, Bella."
"No! If anyone should be apologizing, it's going to be me. We're trapped here forever because I got hurt! We should have never left home."
"If we had stayed, you would have never woken up."
"At least you would be safe at home with your family and not suffering by yourself. I mean, look at how you were forced to live! You didn't even have proper shelter."
He takes my face in his hands, holding it like it's a precious jewel. "Do you truly believe I could have stayed home and done nothing? I was afraid you were dying. I suffered more than you will ever know."
I wince. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that. But I... This is all my fault!"
He shakes his head. "You are alive and well, and you found me. That is all I wanted." His thumb brushes across my lips. "I can survive anything - except living without you."
"It's the same for me." Another broken sob comes out. "I thought I lost you."
We're in each other's arms again, hanging on for dear life and rocking in place. After a short while, he speaks. "What do we do now?"
The uncertainty in his tone nearly breaks my heart.
"We'll have to figure out a way to live here, I guess. It won't be easy. Your world and mine are very different. There's a lot you would have to learn."
Behind us, someone clears their throat. Our sensitive conversation is put on immediate hold since we're no longer alone.
"Pardon," says a man around our age, "but you're blocking the path."
"Oh!" I step to the side, tugging Ewar along with me, and switch back to English. "Sorry about that. We got distracted and forgot we might be standing in people's way."
"It's all right. Marvelous weather we're having today, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's beautiful."
The hiker glances at Ewar, just now seeming to notice how oddly he's dressed. It's rare to see a grown man in one hundred year old knickerbockers and a shirt so small it can't even be buttoned up all the way. And with the scraggly beard and bare feet, Ewar looks like a pirate that's been stranded on a desert isle.
"Hello," says the friendly hiker to Ewar. "That's an interesting look. Is it comfortable?"
Ewar stands there for a second, pondering how to respond. For some reason, he decides to greet this stranger as his uncle Arl would have done. With only the best of intentions, he gives the guy a proud middle finger salute.
The hiker scowls. "Oh, so that's how it's going to be, eh? Well, fuck you, too!" He returns the rude gesture and marches away.
Ewar spins around, his expression adorably clueless. "Did I do something wrong?'
I can't help the watery laugh that escapes. It comes as a much-needed reminder. I may have suffered great loss, but I still have him. He is my hope, my comfort, my love, and my future.
"Don't worry. We'll figure things out."
"Together?"
My hand slips into his, much like the day we were bound in marriage. "Yes, Ewar. I'll show you everything."
00000000000000000000
A/N- Did Bella teach the Bat People how to flip someone off (without informing them it's an insult) just so I could end the story like this? Yep.
When I first outlined this story two years ago, I planned to end things right here and add an epilogue to show Bella and Ewar's "modern" life, set a few years down the road.
However, I've decided that a vote is needed.
That's right. It's up to YOU on what happens next! Do you want Bella and Ewar to have a bittersweet but happy epilogue to tie up the loose ends? Or do they deserve a SEQUEL that will be fun and sometimes stressful as Ewar learns to navigate modern society (and Bella protects him)? Tell me what you want. Leave a comment or PM me.
While I'm waiting to see your opinions, I will be writing an Ewar POV outtake dealing with what happened to him in the aftermath of Bella getting hurt and how he survived three months on his own in the twenty-first century. It will be posted regardless of how the voting turns out. I'm also working on a brand new series featuring an Edward that's a private investigator - but with a surprise twist! The first chapter will come out before the end of this year.
For now, I'm marking this story as complete. Remember to vote! Epilogue or Sequel? Thanks for reading, reviewing, and all of the support you've shown for this story. You pushed me to the finish line! :-)