Chapter 35

Thirty-Five

FINN

She packed up a small wagon made of wood, tucking items around me wrapped in scraps of cloth. Her smile, sweet and patient, as she patted me on the head and handed me a piece of bread to nibble.

A flutter of rainbow-winged butterflies hovered around her as she packed up small leather pouches and bottles. The markets, as autumn closed in, always a rush of trading to prepare for the oncoming winter.

She placed a carefully packed basket in my lap. “Hold this for apa,” she said, giving me a little kiss on my forehead. Since I only got to glimpse him a few times a year, excitement grew in my tummy and I couldn’t help but smile and grip the basket tight. The thought of toys and sweet baked treats left on the wayside as I wondered if I’d get to finally meet him, or only observe from a distance.

“Mama,” I said.

“Yes, baby?” She asked as she hummed and tucked a basket of dried flowers behind me.

“Will apa play with me?”

“Not yet, baby. You’re very little. But you can set the treats for him.” She finished packing the wagon. A large doe lingered near the trees, eating clover. “Ready, Lena?” Mama asked in a gentle voice.

The doe perked up and trotted over to allow for a harness to pull the wagon. She paused to nuzzle my hair, making me giggle with her snuffles. She let mama harness her to the wagon, and off we went. I spent the first half of the ride chatting with passing squirrels and birds about the best spots for nuts and berries. Then dozed through the late afternoon knowing we wouldn’t reach apa’s space or town until closer to nightfall. And it was the chill of dusk that woke me from a cozy nap.

An uneasy sensation of being watched made me sit up and stare into the settling darkness. The trees loomed with a stretch of gnarled branches, like skeletal hands reaching out to snatch us. Shadows danced between the trunks, flickering and fluctuating in the dim light, making it hard to tell what was real and what was merely a trick of the eyes. Fallen leaves crinkled and crunched like a thousand footsteps surrounding us with unseen observers.

Sometimes I dreamt of the cave, and woke with nightmares, others the dark had lifted and I could crawl in beside my apa and he’d wrap me up in his snuggles.

The wagon stopped at the edge of a veil of mist, surrounded by trees and endless dark edges, the center of which stood a cave mouth, dark and ominous. The trees around the cave with twisted bark contorted as though faces of people were locked within their trunks, but too shadowed to define.

A stump sat off to the side, a good distance from the entrance of the cave, with a thick layer of animal hide over it. I crawled out of the wagon and gripped the basket in a trembling grasp.

“Leave it on the stump and we’ll go,” Mama instructed softly. “Let him rest.”

Apa needed a lot of rest. Or at least that’s how I understood mama’s instructions every time we visited him. I nodded, clutching the basket and tiptoeing toward the stump. With each step, the feeling of being watched grew. The shadows followed me, closing in. I struggled to breathe as I placed the basket on the stump, heart pounding in my chest.

I hesitated for a half a heartbeat as a pair of glowing eyes watched from the cave entrance surrounded by nothing but darkness. Was it apa? I let go of the basket and turned to run, my heart racing, and fear slammed into me like a wave of ice, trying to freeze me in place.

A terrifying growl thundered from the cave. The glowing eyes emerged as something fearsome, bearlike, eyes shining with a fire and half human limbs coated in fur and unnatural claws. His jaw opened wide with a ferocious snarl, and he landed flat on four paws, shaking the ground beneath us.

He lunged towards me; jaws wide open to deliver a deadly bite. But mama hurled herself between us, her form morphing into a majestic dragon. Her wings unfurled like vast, golden, orange, and pink burnished sails that shimmered with the light of the setting sun. Her scales glowed with an iridescent beauty, casting a warm, golden radiance around her. Spikes adorned her spine like a regal crest, and atop her head, horns gleamed like beams of sunlight, projecting an aura of divine protection.

I blinked in awe, marveling at her beauty and reaching for her in a half second of fear thinking that apa would hurt her. He hesitated, eyes narrowing at the sight of the enormous glittering figure before him. Her light near blinding as it reflected down on him, easing the spread of shadows and revealing a tired man hidden beneath, not fur, but a thousand wriggling bits of darkness. He sucked in air, as though it were the first time he’d caught his breath in a long while, blinking at her, gaze soft.

“Sleep, love,” whispered through the wind. “He’s not strong enough yet to bear your mantle.”

Apa gazed at her, transfixed and focused, his human form a beautiful mix of man, tall and broad, though undefined beyond the bright ray of light projected on him. He backed away slowly, mama keeping the glow cast over him until he reached the entrance of the cave and disappeared inside.

Mama reappeared in her human form and stalked to my side.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake him.”

She kissed my cheek and wiped away my tears. “You didn’t, baby. Winter is close, and it makes him moody.” She patted Lena’s back and we moved away, mama keeping at my side, her gaze focused ahead while I couldn’t help but glance back. The forest closed in around the cave, swallowing any remnants of its existence as we made our way to town.

“Why is he dark momma?”

“We all have a darkness in us. We have to find our light.”

Birds and crickets sang, stars pricked the sky overhead, and mama hummed a gentle tune as night fell, the eeriness of the woods dripping away.

I blinked and realized I was still standing with my hand to her face, staring at the statue as tears dripped down my face.

“Was that supposed to be a good memory?” I asked. Her love had been unmistakable, both for me and for apa despite how confusing it all was. I dropped down at her feet, needing a moment to breathe and analyzing the millions of questions dancing through my head. How would Wesley have interpreted all that? Curling up to cradle my knees to my chest and rest my head on their tops, I let myself feel, no matter how complicated the emotions. Years of therapy had to be good for something. Understanding that love and pain were not two sides of one coin, but intrinsically woven inside every person, helped me see why the memory both hurt and made my heart dance at the same time.

My birth mom. Not that my adoptive moms hadn’t been amazing. I’d spent my entire life wondering why she hadn’t wanted me. Who left their kid in a forest? Rejection eating at me no matter how hard I tried to overcome it.

“You didn’t leave me on purpose, did you?” I asked her as I glanced up, finding her serene gaze comforting. The garden of statues glared my way as if daring to touch her added to their rage. “Memories,” I said to myself as I stared out at the long path filled with answers to my questions, but I hesitated to stand and touch apa .

Good and bad, love and pain, hope and fear, all intertwined. I just had to survive it with my sanity intact.