Journey of a Girl: Chapter Six

It was Josiah and not Josiah.

Gone were the frightened eyes of the child Credence knew as her brother. They were replaced with a severe, but wild, gaze.

As if a bear or wolf wore the likeness of Josiah, but was unable to conceal its true, feral nature.

But it didn't matter.

Her brother was here.

Josiah was alive.

It was too much to comprehend.

Credence fell to her knees in the sand.

She sucked in great, heaving breaths, and each exhale brought forth a long, pained sob. She keened into the sand, as elation and sorrow overtook the last thought in her head, until the air in her lungs became thin and it was difficult to breathe.

Her overwhelming emotions gave birth to a surge of magic that blew wind over the water. Clouds formed and pressed together, blocking the sun and casting shade over the hot sand. In the distance, the sky descended and the sea rose to form a thin, quickly-moving swirl. The cyclone was far, but its presence was nonetheless threatening.

Josiah's eyes grew wide as he watched it twist over the waves.

Strangely, the wind relented, and the infant hurricane died as quickly as it had formed.

Credence caught her breath, just as the clouds disappeared and the sun returned in full glory.

Her brother did not know she had been the cause, and he stared at the calm waves, marveling at nature's oddness.

She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and swear to never leave his side again, but she could not will her body to move from the ground.

Hands lifted her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"No," she wailed, "you don't know it's me—I haven't said my word!"

Her ear crushed against a chest of stone, and she could hear a fierce heartbeat beneath it, as quick and loud as her own.

Something hit her cheek—

Josiah was weeping with her.

Credence answered the only way she could, and sobbed into the chest and arms that surrounded her.

They remained this way for several minutes, listening to the story of despair told through each other's tears.

"I thought I would never see you again," Josiah said as he kissed her hair.

To anyone else, he would have sounded nothing like her brother, but Credence heard him, buried under layers of baritone almost identical to Pa's timbre—the frightened squeak of a boy.

"I thought you were dead," Credence whimpered. "I knew you were..."

For a fearful second she doubted he was her real brother. He might have been a changeling, belched from the woods to bring her fresh torment—

Josiah had died long ago, alone, in the cold mud where Credence left him.

She carried the guilt, sharp as a knife, in her heart ever since.

"You're a spirit," she whispered, too quiet to be heard. "You're not real..."

But the fear passed in a blink and she pulled away to look at him.

He was much bigger than she remembered—bigger than she could have ever imagined! He was taller than Pa, she thought, and his arms and legs were thick with muscle. His hair was a nest, uncombed for ages, and his face has lost its last trace of childhood.

He had grown up.

"How did you get so big?" she asked.

"I was going to ask the same of you!"

"Me?! I haven't grown nearly as much! You're bigger than Pa ever was!"

"And you look exactly like Ma!"

"We haven't been lost for that long, have we? It could be an enchantment."

"I don't think it is, not-so-big-sister." He grinned, and Credence recognized the same look of mischief from their childhood. "I can finally beat you at fighting," he added slyly.

"Unlikely, always-little-brother. No matter how large you get, I'll always be stronger."

He gave her a look that was filled with joy, nostalgia, and absolute love.

"Oh, Josiah!" Credence said as the thought struck her. "Look where we are!" She pointed to the endless water. "It's the real ocean—just like Pa told us about!"

He laughed, amused that such a thought would occur to her in a moment like this.

"I was afraid of it when I was a child," he said. "The idea of so much water...but it's really beautiful."

"I never imagined we'd be in a place like this."

"Life is nothing if not unusual."

They took a moment to appreciate the splendor before them.

When they simultaneously released a contented sigh, they giggled at their like-minded reaction, but behind it was a note of pain that told them how much they had been missed by the other.

Credence touched his face. "How did you survive? When I left you...you were..."

"I'm not sure you would believe it. I hardly believe it myself."

"But—your leg!"

Josiah raised the leg of his trousers, revealing dark hair over unblemished skin.

No scar.

Not a hint of the terrible wound remained.

Credence traced her finger over the place where his leg had been opened.

"Someone healed you."

"There is so much to tell you." His expression grew unsettled. "I am...not entirely myself."

"What does that mean?"

He stood and helped Credence to her feet.

"There is a cave nearby," he said. "We'll build a fire and I'll tell you everything that has happened."

Credence winced. "Back...into the woods?" Josiah nodded. "I can't." She didn't know how to explain it. How could she begin to tell her story and reveal why she had sworn against ever returning to the trees? "I'm sorry, Josiah. I won't go back there."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the woods?"

"Not a bit. But I promised to leave its troubles behind."

"I'll protect you from its troubles. Just like you protected me."

"It's not protection I need. It's freedom."

"I don't understand."

"I hate what's in there. All of it."

Josiah's brow furrowed in concentration. He looked at the trees, thinking carefully about his next words.

"The cave isn't far. Come on, 'Crence—I'll be with you."

A wave of memories flooded into her, and when she looked at her brother she did not see a grown man, but the boy who laughed and played with her, and had shared her secrets.

And, just like old times, she couldn't refuse him when he used her nickname.

"If it's not too far," she relented, "I will follow you into the woods."

At the edge of the trees, Credence hesitated. She looked for warnings of an ambush.

Most of all, she paused out of shame.

So quickly she was breaking her vow—

But Josiah took her hand and squeezed it.

"It's all right," he said.

If she had to choose between Josiah and her promise, the choice was easy.

When he pulled her into the trees, Credence did not resist.

They gathered wood as they went, stealing glances at each other and trading smiles. It was undeniably comfortable being together after so long, and it brought a much-needed peace to both their hearts and minds.

Suddenly they were children again, busy with chores until Ma called them for dinner.

Just as Josiah promised, there was a shallow cave not far from the beach, so close that Credence could still hear the waves in the distance.

Josiah picked wild vegetables and caught two rodents for their dinner, while Credence arranged the wood they had gathered into a pyre. She watched him skin the meat with practiced precision, and marveled at the thought that her immature brother had found a way to thrive in the woods.

A quiet rumbling rose from her stomach, climbing by inches upwards, until laughter erupted from her.

"What's so funny?" Josiah asked.

"I remember when you couldn't even think about a dead animal without crying, and look at you!" She pointed to the meat in his hands. "Preparing dinner by yourself!"

Josiah joined her with a good-natured chuckle. "I had to adapt."

"Ma said you'd outgrow me one day—I didn't think it would only take a year or two for you to do it!"

Josiah's smile faded.

"How long do you think we've been apart, Credence?"

"A few years," she said softly. "But..." She touched her head. "There's gray in your hair. Do I have it in mine?"

"No, you don't."

"How? You look...old!"

"At least as old as Pa was when he died," came the ominous reply. "If not a few years more."

The blood drained from Credence's face. "That's not possible. We didn't leave home that long ago. That would mean I've been lost for—"

Decades, her mind finished.

"A very long time," Josiah supplied. "Longer than we were together as children."

"No, that can't be. I won't believe it—"

"Credence, you—"

"No!" She stood and moved to the mouth of the cave, watching the trees sway as her mind raced to understand.

A year or two with Lilith and in the towns. No more than three. How? That would mean—

Her time in Ajo's world was significantly longer.

It hadn't felt that way, a handful of months if she had to guess.

"The cat said I'd been kept for years," she whispered to herself. "And the woods had grown up quicker than me..."

She flinched when Josiah placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I did think it strange," he admitted, "that you looked so young."

"I was trapped in a place where time meant nothing," she said grimly. "I grew up, but not as fast as I should have."

And there's magic in my blood.

"So many years were lost between us. Josiah...our entire lives..."

He pulled her into a hug. "We found each other, that's what matters."

Ajo stole my life, she thought bitterly.

Credence wanted to confide in her brother and unburden her heart.

But where to begin?

And where had Josiah gone, what had he been doing, in the decades missed between them?

A horrible notion tickled her:

Was he still really her brother after so many years apart?

"We have the rest of our lives to make up for our loss."

"Our loss," Credence spat. "It shouldn't have been this way. It's not fair."

"Life rarely is."

"You don't even know...Ma is dead."

"I know—or rather, I accepted that as truth long ago. I came to terms with losing my family, and I understood that Ma was never coming for us."

"She never meant to."

Josiah nodded grimly. "Ma was protecting us."

"Keeping secrets," Credence spat. "Like she always did. You don't know the half of who she really was."

"I don't want to." At Credence's perplexed look, he continued, "I don't want to know anything that would harm my memory of her. Or Pa. They loved us dearly, I know that for sure. They were good parents, and they gave their lives so we could survive. I've met others who were not so lucky in that regard."

Credence opened her mouth to argue but decided against it.

Why destroy Josiah's memory of wonderful parents, just because hers had been ruined?

She chose to go inside Ajo's vault. Josiah did not.

"All right," she said after a moment. "We won't mourn the past."

"Let's eat instead."

He began to move from her side, but she grabbed his arm.

"I remember now. My word is 'dollhouse'."

***

She watched him ignite the fire and was impressed by how quickly he did it. With a sizable flame eating the wood, Josiah sat back, obviously proud.

"Bet I'm quicker than you at starting one," he said with a smug wink.

Credence flicked her wrist and fire erupted in her hand.

Josiah's smile turned into gawking.

"I thought my eyes were playing tricks on the beach," he said in revered wonder.

The awe left his face in an instant and was replaced with a pout.

"You let me do all the work!" he whined.

"I thought you'd enjoy the chance to show off."

She tossed the flame in her hand onto the wood, and it grew the heat between them.

"Missed you, 'Crence."

"Missed you more."

"You can perform magic now?" he asked with intense curiosity. "I remember wanting to see you cast a spell so badly. And look! You didn't need Ma's book to do it!" He glanced around the cave. "Do you still have the book?" At Credence's look, he guessed the answer. "You lost it?"

"Among other things."

He gave an understanding nod.

"Well, go on," he urged, "show me something else!"

He clapped at the colorful sparks she produced with a flick of her wrist.

Credence grew flowers from the cave's floor and he arranged the blooms in his hair, which amused his sister greatly. She added moss to the ground to cushion their sitting and tried to explain her elemental abilities.

"At first I was taught that it was nature I controlled, but I learned it was myself. There are parts of me that connect with the elements, and some are easier to converse with than others. Fire and earth come quickly, but wind and water are tricky. I'm not talking to the elements, but myself—"

She stopped when she saw Josiah's confused expression.

"I still don't know what all of it means," she concluded.

"I don't know what any of it means. But it's pretty and saves you from having to use a flint."

"Would have been handy when we were children."

"Eh, it's probably for the best you weren't able to throw fire from your hands when we were young, or my backside would still be charred because of your anger."

"If you weren't always getting us into trouble, your backside would be just fine." She paused. "I actually completed my first spell with you by my side. I completed it because of you." Her next words were difficult. "I had to destroy the wooden talisman I made for you. I'm sorry. I know you treasured it, but it got us through a desperate night."

She was afraid Josiah would be upset, but he slapped his knee.

"I always figured I ate it!"

"You—what?"

"I will tell you, I promise."

He said a prayer over the food before they ate, and when they were finished he picked the remaining meat from the animal bones. Once he was satisfied they were clean, he laid them near the cave's entrance to dry. Credence had a thousand questions but didn't ask them, trusting that Josiah would explain himself in due time.

With their bellies full and spirits eased, they stared at the fire in comfortable silence. It was like they had been transported to their first night in the woods, and Credence knew her brother shared the same sentiment.

Dusk settled into night, and Josiah broke the silence to begin his tale.

Credence listened, eager to learn of her brother's adventures, and knowing that when he finished, she would regale him with her own experiences.

"I'm not proud of it, but I lost hope," Josiah said in a somber tone. "It was so long ago...I remember flashes of your face. A fire. It was night and we had no shelter. I was afraid of what would happen...You called my name, but I couldn't answer. I didn't want you to be alone. I wanted so badly to survive—for you. I couldn't leave you. But I was hurt, and you could not carry me any further. Then you left and I..."

His jaw visibly clenched.

"You left to find help, and not long after, I died."

And so, nestled in a cave surrounded by night, the siblings recounted their lives apart.

The haunting tale of a boy reborn in the woods, and the harrowing journey of a girl resigned to let them fall.

***End of Book Two***