side of his face, down the length of his muzzle and over the prominent cheekbones that gave him a wise, ancient look. He eventually lay down beside her and slept, but Glenn couldn’t.
The vestiges of that half-forgotten dream had been hammering at her ever since she left Dr. Kapoor’s office. And now, as she lay exhausted and sleepless in the dark, the voices were sharper than ever, taunting her, insisting that if she would drop her years of resistance, if she would only remember , they would snap together and tell her …
what?
Finally the pressure was too much and she was too tired to fight any longer. Glenn could almost hear the crack as some wall within her fractured and that old dream emerged, fully formed, from the shadows.
“Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan.”
Those words still rang in six-year-old Glenn’s mind when she woke up hours after her mother had left. It was late. The house was silent. Hopkins was gone.
Glenn slid out of bed, stepped into a pair of slippers, and pulled a robe over her pink and white pajamas. Still heavy with sleep, she shuffled out of her room into the dark hallway. She stopped when she hit the top of the stairs. Below her, the front door was hanging open, spilling the warmth and light of the house onto the leaf-covered yard.
“Hopkins?”
Glenn descended the stairs and stood in the open doorway. The yard spread out before her, plains of black and silvery blue in the moonlight. At the far end, near the edge of the forest, a woman in a long white nightgown stood with her back to Glenn.
“Mom?”
The woman took a step forward and disappeared into the trees.
Glenn knew she should go get her father, but if she did her mother might be long gone by the time they got back. What if she got lost and they couldn’t find her? Glenn set off across the yard and into the forest.
Her mother moved like a ghost through the trees, a flash of white that appeared and disappeared. Glenn struggled to keep up. She called out to her again and again but her mother didn’t stop, didn’t look back.
Finally, Glenn saw the bloody glow of the red border lights. Glenn paused at the concrete towers that supported the lights. She had never set foot on the other side of the border. She knew it was forbidden, but what if her mother was in trouble? Glenn crossed over, finally coming to a choked section of the woods where trees and hedgerows covered in thorns surrounded her.
Her mother was a few feet away, the back of her white gown
slicked with the border lights’ red glow.
“Mom?”
That’s when Glenn heard the voices. At first she thought it was the wind, but as she drew closer it sounded more like whispers. They grew louder until it was a steady stream without pause or inflection.
There was something else out there too, something huge and dark, looming in the trees in front of her mother.
“Mommy?” Glenn asked. “What are you doing?”
The whispering stopped.
Her mother slowly turned. Her pale skin glowed. Her eyes had turned a rimless black and were enormous, unnatural, and as thoughtless and feral as some monstrous bird. There wasn’t the slightest hint of recognition in them.
Glenn turned and ran for the border, but she stumbled when her foot caught on a root and she went tumbling into the leaves, falling on her back. Somehow her mother split the distance between them,
moving thirty feet in what seemed like seconds. She was reaching out to Glenn, her black eyes huge. Icy fingers fell on her shoulder as something inhuman roared in the night.
After that, everything went black.
Glenn sat up, her heart hammering against her chest. She twisted the blanket in her fist until her knuckles went white. It was a dream, she told herself. To believe anything else was the first step into madness.
But Glenn could still feel the cold of the forest floor beneath her feet and hear the voices as if they were at her shoulder.
But if it wasn’t a dream, what was it?
There was a crash outside,
The vestiges of that half-forgotten dream had been hammering at her ever since she left Dr. Kapoor’s office. And now, as she lay exhausted and sleepless in the dark, the voices were sharper than ever, taunting her, insisting that if she would drop her years of resistance, if she would only remember , they would snap together and tell her …
what?
Finally the pressure was too much and she was too tired to fight any longer. Glenn could almost hear the crack as some wall within her fractured and that old dream emerged, fully formed, from the shadows.
“Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan.”
Those words still rang in six-year-old Glenn’s mind when she woke up hours after her mother had left. It was late. The house was silent. Hopkins was gone.
Glenn slid out of bed, stepped into a pair of slippers, and pulled a robe over her pink and white pajamas. Still heavy with sleep, she shuffled out of her room into the dark hallway. She stopped when she hit the top of the stairs. Below her, the front door was hanging open, spilling the warmth and light of the house onto the leaf-covered yard.
“Hopkins?”
Glenn descended the stairs and stood in the open doorway. The yard spread out before her, plains of black and silvery blue in the moonlight. At the far end, near the edge of the forest, a woman in a long white nightgown stood with her back to Glenn.
“Mom?”
The woman took a step forward and disappeared into the trees.
Glenn knew she should go get her father, but if she did her mother might be long gone by the time they got back. What if she got lost and they couldn’t find her? Glenn set off across the yard and into the forest.
Her mother moved like a ghost through the trees, a flash of white that appeared and disappeared. Glenn struggled to keep up. She called out to her again and again but her mother didn’t stop, didn’t look back.
Finally, Glenn saw the bloody glow of the red border lights. Glenn paused at the concrete towers that supported the lights. She had never set foot on the other side of the border. She knew it was forbidden, but what if her mother was in trouble? Glenn crossed over, finally coming to a choked section of the woods where trees and hedgerows covered in thorns surrounded her.
Her mother was a few feet away, the back of her white gown
slicked with the border lights’ red glow.
“Mom?”
That’s when Glenn heard the voices. At first she thought it was the wind, but as she drew closer it sounded more like whispers. They grew louder until it was a steady stream without pause or inflection.
There was something else out there too, something huge and dark, looming in the trees in front of her mother.
“Mommy?” Glenn asked. “What are you doing?”
The whispering stopped.
Her mother slowly turned. Her pale skin glowed. Her eyes had turned a rimless black and were enormous, unnatural, and as thoughtless and feral as some monstrous bird. There wasn’t the slightest hint of recognition in them.
Glenn turned and ran for the border, but she stumbled when her foot caught on a root and she went tumbling into the leaves, falling on her back. Somehow her mother split the distance between them,
moving thirty feet in what seemed like seconds. She was reaching out to Glenn, her black eyes huge. Icy fingers fell on her shoulder as something inhuman roared in the night.
After that, everything went black.
Glenn sat up, her heart hammering against her chest. She twisted the blanket in her fist until her knuckles went white. It was a dream, she told herself. To believe anything else was the first step into madness.
But Glenn could still feel the cold of the forest floor beneath her feet and hear the voices as if they were at her shoulder.
But if it wasn’t a dream, what was it?
There was a crash outside,
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