Chapter Four

That night, Lyda was unable to sleep. She felt overly aroused by her spiritual conversation with Iris, and as promised, she did not say a word about it to anyone, not even her own sister.

Adea had been hesitant to go to sleep that night, remembering the horrible dream from before. She asked if she could sleep in her sister's bed again, but Lyda only shot her a look and said, "No. Grow up." Despite her fears, it did not take long for Adea to pass out, but Lyda was stuck in a state of limbo where she could not close her eyes no matter how tired she was. It got to the point that her eyes were burning with exhaustion, yet her restlessness prevented her from drifting off. Her mind was lost in wonder, desiring to know even more about the Spirits, but she knew that Iris considered their talk to be a one-time thing. It was like a terrible itch rising from the very depths of her soul.

Just then, an idea lit up in Lyda's head that she would not have considered in her wildest dreams, lest she face the judgment of her parents. It was worth the risk, she thought. She had to know more.

Lyda threw off her blanket and stepped out of bed. She slid her feet into the wool slippers by her nightstand and headed quietly out of her room, taking with her the candle from the stand. It was too dark to see much in the hallway outside, but Lyda knew her way around well enough. She tiptoed down the hall until she came to the staircase, taking each step slowly as she held her hand against the wall as if for balance. Eventually, she could see the dim light of the moon seeping in through the windows downstairs, illuminating the cottage just enough for her to see where she was going.

Lyda headed into the kitchen, grabbed a match from one of the cabinets, and lit the candle again. She had put it out herself shortly before she meant to go to sleep, so there was still a bit of the wick left to burn. From there, she silently made her way out of the kitchen and down the foyer leading toward the front door. Instead of going to the door, however, Lyda turned to face another doorway that was just underneath the staircase going up. She slowly turned the rusty doorknob and pulled it open as gently as she could.

A great veil of darkness seemed to pour out from the cellar as she opened the door. Lyda swallowed nervously as she took her first step into the dark, allowing the candlelight to guide her. The only consolation to her anxiety was that she knew somebody else was down here; her aunt Mara. Lyda tried to make herself laugh inside by imagining Adea doing something like this, as afraid of the dark as she was.

As Lyda neared the bottom of the splintering steps, she held her hand close to the candle's ember to keep the light from glowing too brightly, and she scanned around at her surroundings. She had only been down in the cellar a few times before, and that was prior to Aunt Mara moving in with them. Everything looked the same for the most part, with all their tools and food stores lining the walls on either side, but many things were moved out of the way to allow her aunt to accommodate a corner at the back of the large area.

She slept in bed no bigger than Lyda's, which was positioned directly in the corner. To Lyda's surprise, she could just make out that the bed was surrounded by a curtain suspended from the rafters above. She smiled in relief, knowing that there was no way Aunt Mara would catch her. Still, she kept the candlelight shrouded with her hand so it gave off just enough illumination to see where she was going.

Lyda snuck over to the shelf that was erected against the wall just beside Aunt Mara's bed. She did not have much there, mostly just a bunch of books and notes from her days as a gardener - seems to run in the family, Lyda thought - as well as a few personal items that meant nothing to Lyda. Aunt Mara was just as obsessed with the Spirits as she was, so surely there were things she knew about them that Lyda did not. She continued to rummage up and down the shelf but found nothing in regard to the Spirits or any such teachings that she hoped might be there. It did not make sense. What else could possibly have resulted in Aunt Mara being shunned by the Valley the way she was?

At the sudden sound of Aunt Mara shuffling around behind the curtain of her bed, Lyda froze and went silent as if she had been punched in the gut. She shielded the candle's flame as best she could, hoping that her aunt would not wake up and pull away the curtain. She would be in huge trouble if she was caught down here. Fortunately, the shuffling stopped, and after about ten seconds of silence, Lyda let out a quiet sigh of relief before her eyes fell upon a relatively large object sitting in the shadows beneath her bed frame.

Lyda knelt and set the candle on the floor behind her, now shielding the light with her body, as she reached under the bed and carefully pulled out the object. It was a book of some sort, but this one was much larger than the ones on Aunt Mara's shelf, and it looked indescribably old. The spine appeared as though it might break apart at the slightest touch, and its face was covered in a layer of dust. She did not know why, but the mere sight of it made Lyda's skin crawl. Without a second thought, she tucked the book beneath her arm, grabbed the candle, and hurried back to the cellar stairs.

Lyda could not get out of there fast enough. After carefully shutting the cellar door, she headed back toward the kitchen and set the book and candle down on the island in the center. She pulled up a stool and sat comfortably at the island before examining the book she had just made off with. She took in a breath and blew the dust off the cover, which formed a thick cloud just above it before dissipating away. Looking at the cover, there appeared to be no title or any even so much as a design of any kind. It was just a blank, leather cover that gave nothing away. Lyda flipped the book over to see if she was simply looking at the wrong side, but there was nothing on the back either.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Lyda opened the book to the first thick parchment, blowing away the dust and dirt that littered the yellowing page. She wondered how old this book really was to have collected so much filth. Lyda slid the candle closer until she could make out some faded writing on the center of the page. It was written in the common tongue, but in a style that was almost too difficult to read. That did not stop Lyda, and her eyes lit up in astonishment. She had to read it over and over just to make sure she was seeing it right, squinting as she read the writing in the faint candlelight: Tome of the Spirits.

Jackpot! she thought. This was beyond anything she could have imagined. Who knew what might be written on the rest of these pages. Lyda began flipping through them excitedly, searching for something that might pique her immediate interest. She hoped to find anything regarding the Twins, until at last, she came upon something that caught her eyes. It was not the Twins, but it looked like a vague drawing of a peculiar-looking plant that, after today, she recognized at once. There was a name written just above the image.

"Rhododendron," Lyda read in a low whisper. Her eyes panned down to the small print below the plant, and she struggled to read it. "Though known to be poisonous, we have managed to brew it into an effective tonic capable of remedying pains and sickness all over the body."

Lyda was taken aback by what she just read. "Iris," she muttered, "you lied to me?" That did not seem like her mistress. Of course, Lyda had never come across this plant before, even in her studies. It was possible that Iris was just as ignorant of it as she was. Then how, she wondered, did Iris know that it was a poisonous plant when she did not? Lyda could not escape the feeling that she was being lied to. There was a good chance this book might have the answers she was hoping to find.

Lyda read on. "The bush is a common sight all across the great mountains of the east. However, here in our newly founded territories, I have only seen it grow in one place.

"There is something very wrong with it. It is a place devoid of God Himself…"

God? Lyda replayed the unknown name in her head.

"The place knows no balance. It is a domain of the pagan spirits. I have heard the people of this mysterious tribe call it many names - the Spring, the Oasis, the Abyss, and the Well of Horns, or simply just the Well. The first time I saw it, I described it as more like a Well of Teeth. Now I have only one name for it. The Crossing."

Just below the last paragraph was a simple location within the book: Page 47.

Already intrigued beyond control, Lyda hastily flipped through the book until she came to page 47. It was difficult to make out some of the page numbers because of how faded they were, but Lyda knew she had found the right page when she read the title of the new passage at the top: The Crossing.

"When I first came across the place, the area was defined by towering clusters of rhododendron shrubs. I had never seen them so massive before. I followed the path which wound through the brush like a maze, as if a voice deep inside my very soul was beckoning me.

"Upon emerging from the brush, the sight I beheld was of such deceptive beauty. Two springs burst from the rock on either side of the great well, joining together to split the growth of the tree standing in the center, much the way the legendary Twins ravage this world with their never-ending battle.

"They call them Spirits, but I fear there may be a powerful demonic presence in that place, for when I tried to find it again, it was gone. The enormous brush of rhododendron which led me there was reduced to mere shrubs. I was certain I had followed the same path as before, and I tried many times thereafter to find it again, until one day, many years later, I did.

"I sit in its presence now, knowing that this is where I shall take my final breaths. Before I leap from the cliff in the ultimate sacrifice, I must ensure that the dark secrets of this place never again see the blessed light of day. I have found a way to erase the profane ritual from the pages of this tome, and I shall leave it here to disappear the next time this place vanishes. Forgive me, Lord, for my many offenses."

That was where the passage ended. Lyda was breathless. Even after everything she learned about the Spirits in the past, she never thought she would come across something like this. She turned the page in haste. However, the last few pages in the book were blank. What was more was that they looked as though someone had torn them out only to place them back in haphazardly. Lyda rifled through the several blank pieces of parchment as if expecting to find something else to the story.

"That can't be all," she muttered to herself. She could not believe that. What was this ritual the book mentioned so briefly? She desperately wanted to know more.

A sudden, muffled sound like a twig snapping outside made Lyda's head jerk up toward the window next to the back door. It took her eyes a short second to adjust from the candlelight. Her breath came to stop when she thought she could see a pitch black figure standing there, just outside the open window. No facial features, just a dark shadow staring right at her. Lyda's heart raced as she quickly rubbed at her eyes to make sure they were seeing clearly, but when she looked back up, there was nothing there.

Lyda sighed to herself. What was she afraid of? If there was one thing she learned from studying the Spirits, it was that fear was a mere primal instinct that could be transcended. She could not be like her sister, who was so easily frightened. She had to be stronger. She desired to be stronger, wiser. Perhaps the place spoken of in this book might give her some more information, if it was even real.

The light went off in her head as she recalled the place Iris had taken her to earlier. The rhododendron bushes were there, and whoever the writer of this passage was said they only grew in one place in these territories. Iris also talked about the peculiar feeling in the air that made her feel like they were somehow stepping out of their world and into another. Lyda knew it was true. She felt it as well. A feeling in her gut told her that it had to be the same place. She had to go back, but who knew if Iris would ever take her back there again if she told her what she was beginning to dabble into. Her parents were out of the question. They would only punish her dearly for mentioning the Spirits.

Lyda knew she would have to go alone, but when? It would have to be a time when nobody would notice she was gone. The problem was it took them six hours to walk all the way out there. That was too much time. Just then, she considered taking one of her father's horses. She shook off the temptation at first. He used them only for hauling supplies and trade goods to and from the Valley, and who knew what he might do to her if he found out she stole one in the middle of the night.

But this is far more important, Lyda sensed a voice speaking in her head. Of course it was! She was not willing to wait a moment longer. She could take one of the ponies, ride back out to that place in half the time, explore around for a little, and then be back before dawn. It was not as if she was going to be able to sleep tonight anyway. Without a second thought as to her rash actions, Lyda closed the leather-bound book and quietly hurried off to prepare for her little excursion.