Page 31 of Up from the Earth

“So, then, child, are you ready?”

The answer was not so clear after being in the witch’s house for just a few moments, but I had no choice. It was a necessity should I wish to stand my ground against whatever fiend tarnished my new home.

“Yes.”

Her smile stretched unnaturally wide, revealing too many of her yellowed teeth. “Good. If you are to truly know all parts of life, you must understand it at its ending as well, Cerridwen Locke.”

I nodded again, remembering how I could manipulate the fungus until it reached the end of its development.

“I do. Death is natural.”

The baba ega snickered, and the walls darkened, shrinking in on themselves enough to set my heart racing.

“Oh, it is at that. So, you think you appreciate life as it's waning, too. Not only the vibrancy of spring but the morbid echoes of winter as well.” I opened my mouth to reply, but the old woman held up a gnarled finger, silencing me. “She who will live in balance. The Queen of the Cycle, eh? Perhaps. But no such title can be bestowed so easily. You owe me tasks, child. Three. One for each of the stages of your life.”

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. I was sure they would crack under the pressure, but by her power, they remained whole. Returning my attention to her, the old woman was inches in front of my face. She snatched my chin, her nails digging into my flesh as her red-pupiled eyes burrowed into my soul.

“Three stages, three cycles, three tasks.” Her voice was everywhere and nowhere, her grip holding my entire body rigid and at her command. “First, speak only truly to me, Cerridwen Adaire Locke. Let the innocence of your maidenhood sound through the purity of your words.”

A tear dripped down my cheek as I sputtered for air, for anything.

“Do you fear death?”

“I…” Every part of me was held in her grasp; I could not blink or breathe or move. “Less now. I fear…suffering. Pain taken…and feasted on.”

The baba ega’s form swelled, her frame expanding until it touched the ceiling and walls. The house stretched around her, groaning and creaking loud enough to be heard miles away. As my head spun, the edges of my vision went black, clouding into the center.

“Will you stay on the path?”

The words were pulled from my mouth. “No. It is…more interesting to make one for yourself. I seek myownway.”

Pressure gripped my chest, a furious burn clamping down around my lungs. I had drowned once before, and this was too similar.

“You have given birth, delivering yourself to the next stage: motherhood.”

A deep chime rang somewhere beyond the hut. It shook the foundations, rumbling through my feet and up through my legs. The drone was endless, thrumming and pounding one after the other as my vision wavered in and out.

Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.

“You have given birth, Cerridwen Adaire Locke,” the baba ega squeezed my face, a crow’s call playing with her voice, “and that child will die. Would you keep him alive if it were in you to do so?”

A broken, ragged breath flew from me, and a steady stream of tears slid down my cheeks. I could taste their salt as they hit my lips. I managed the barest hint of a nod.

“N-no. When…when it is his time…It is his time.” My heart expanded against my ribs, trapped between beats, and I saw Cerberus in my mind, making the sob scream from my chest. “But…”

She studied me, this woman of grime and shadow. The baba ega pressed her eyes into my forehead, their sight penetrating my skull. She held the wisdom of age. She held the darkness of death perched on the edge within her; some deal struck long ago, the only thing that kept her alive.

If shewasindeed alive.

Decay and death clung to her. She could pull the truth from anyone she sought it from, and she would know a lie anywhere. She held the wisdom of age, this witchly specter as ancient as time.

The Crone.

Translucent threads woven from her fingers up and back, into the corners of the room, into the shadows. I could not speak dishonestly, and I would not. I would face what I knew already, and I would offer it up to her…this first task.

“If he is taken from me…” The baba ega's head tilted, her eyeballs sealed against my head so that I only saw the diseased slash of her mouth, a breath away from my skin. “...if someonetakesCerberus from me, there is not a power on this earth or beyond that will stop me from protecting what is mine…or securing my revenge.”

The ground shook, rumbling so much that I fell to my knees, forced down and small by the Crone. There was no end to her, no separation of body from the hut, and I was a miniscule speck plastered to the floor. That creaking, stone-grinding laughter lanced through the air, through my mind, and I fought to look up at her, to remain in existence against her terrible power.

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