Watching Levon and Tessa pretend to push each other as they walk across the yard is endearing.

You know what’s not sweet?

Talis interrupting my daydream about being Maid of Honor in their upcoming nuptials I’m planning in my head for them. She’ll wear a jade green dress because how gorgeous is it on red heads? He’ll wear jeans and a Henley cut white shirt because Levon will never dress in a tux. I’ll get ordained and Talis can be the witness since he’s always over my shoulder anyways, invading every single thought.

“Lyla,” he says, “there are two weeks to finish the task Levon spoke of but he does not know our journey takes another path. He cannot know.” Talis motions to the swing. “Sit, for we need to speak alone.”

“I thought you said you’d take me to food.”

He pauses then says, “I will take you to food but you must understand, no one else is to know I am here. It is a risk they know of my appearance.”

“What’re the risk? Just curious here.”

Talis adjusts the fur on his shoulders, taking the moment to scan all around the yard. “Death.”

Ah, yes, the elusive and vague answer which prompts me to think deeply and concernedly of Talis.

“Oh my, oh my.” I stand and gesture to the woods. “I was supposed to read a letter from my dad but haven’t yet. Maybe I should do that before dinner in the forest. It might help with my supernatural culture shock and help me actually listen to the words you say. No offense.”

He sighs which must mean he’ll wait for me. I run upstairs and dig through my bag. The letter. Perfectly crumpled. A little tiny voice coughs from downstairs. If an animal could sound like a human coughing, it would be a mouse. That’s what it sounds like. I walk down the steps to the living room. The couch and tv look untouched. The only thing different is the cough drop is gone.

“Lyla,” Talis says, glancing into the house. “Hurry. We have little time to usher you to the seam for dinner and back before dark.”

I sort of want to explore where the cough came from but the sun calls me to the porch so I plop down on the swing and open the letter.

“Lyla?”

His words fade or maybe he’s quiet. I’m not sure because my dad’s words swift me away to another time. A time where he was alive and well and sitting at the foot of my bed and telling all the ancient stories he learned and asking how much I believe in them and me saying not at all and him saying good but still handing me some article he cut out of a newspaper or printed from some obscure website. He wrote-

How many times did I tell you about the Earth? Goddesses and gods? Twin flames and soul mates? How many times did I tell you about all the names the ancient peoples called the Earth and how important it was to every single thing in this life? So many times and each time you told me you didn’t believe. I’m so proud of Levon. He is a wonderful brother who helped your mother and I keep your life…

Instead of crumpling the papers together, I fold them neatly and crease them until they can fit in my back pocket. Talis takes a breath in and before he speaks, I say, “I don’t know what to think. Or do. Or even, what–thoughts–everything is so jumbled right now, I can’t think straight.”

The corner of his lip rises, the first hint of any humor behind his constant scowl. He holds his hand out. “You have learned much in the last day. It will take time for thoughts to be coherent. But for now, you must eat.” He grabs my hand since I didn’t grab his. “Come.”

You know when that one history teacher who drones on and on and on and on. He probably has a lot of validity to the stories he talks about but who can listen when your best friend passes notes to you and your stomach grumbles just as the bell for lunch A dings? Talis is the story I missed.

But the touch of his hand brings another bout of bright colors that wash over me. A story all their own and just like my history class, I can’t recall as single one. The only story I extract are colors. All the colors I know, and all the colors I don’t know. But the moment is fleeting before he pulls me towards the yard. In silence and with Talis leading the way, we walk to the woods, taking the same path Levon and Tessa did. We pass into the woods and straight towards the darkest part where light doesn’t penetrate to the ground below.

“Levon says I have training tomorrow.”

Talis takes a breath in. “Has Tessa said or done any action which would cause concern?”

“Just met her.” The brisk air brushes a stray hair against my temple. “How will only Levon and Tessa know about you if you’re right beside me?”

The corner of his lip rises again and he glances towards the treetops. I follow his gaze and when I look back to him, he’s gone.

“Talis?”

“Yes?” The voice comes from behind me and makes me jump.

“Woah, how the hell-”

“Vibration. Protectors are from the Otherworld where our atoms and cells and elements vibrate at higher levels and Leavers from the Lifeworld vibrate lower, which keep you from dispersing yourself like we can.”

“So do I just tell Levon and Tessa you’re in invisible mode or something?”

“Invisible mode? I told you vibration levels,” he mutters, as he reappears in front of me. “You will tell them nothing.”

The sight of Talis reforming, broad and strong, and standing close to me is overwhelming. Colors burst behind my lids when I blink and I see all the colors even the colors I don’t know.

“Sure,” I say. “Seems logical to do, give them the silent treatment if they ask about you.”

He ignores my nice comment. “Continue walking straight. You will pass a grove of Sassafras trees. Beyond that will be the seam.” He wipes his hands over my eyes.

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” I avoid his hand.

“Be still, Lyla.” He does it again and this time, I’m not quick enough to move away.

“You will see the seam now. Cross over the parts which are stitched and you will be in the Otherworld. Walk up the other side and over the hill. There, you will find Levon.”

“And food?”

“Yes,” he says. “And food.”

“Where will you be?”

But by the time I say that, he’s gone. First of all, what the hell is a Sassafras tree and secondly, is the seam going to look like an operating table? I’m not sure what I mean by that but what if it looks like stitches on a body? Ew.

The darkness of the forest engulfs me and with each step, the temperature cools. Wind is only able to sway the tree tops and unable to move the stale air where I walk. But one scent lingers. It smells like root beer but the kind I tried at the Renaissance Festival. Oh, that’s what a Sassafras tree is. It’s the true root beer. The scraggly trees reach high above me. My hand pressed against the bark of one of them brings back those root-beer-drinking memories. I truly thought, a day ago, I would one day reminiscence on drinking real beer in a dorm room but I’m thinking now, maybe that’ll never be a memory of mine. It’ll be smelling root beer in a desolate forest.

The ravine. I stand on top of it. It looks like any other ravine I’ve seen but as I near the bottom, a crag in the rock runs right where a creek would. It goes to the right and to the left for as far as I can see. The jagged seam is just that. A seam, the seam. And the thread are massive tree roots crisscrossing, tightly bound. My fingers run over the thread and a jolt of images, maybe memories, run through my mind. It’s so fast and so quick, I have no idea what I saw. The thread is thicker than my leg and maybe even an hour ago, I would’ve just assumed these were ancient tree roots jutting above the soil just to dig back in a few feet away. The seam reminds me of the quilt on my twin bed back at my g-rents house. Back and forth, zig and zag. If I put my ear close to the seam, warm air tickles my cheek and the faintest of mumbling of all sorts of voices beckon me nearer. Beckon me to open the seam.

But a smack on the back of my head diverts my attention.

Levon says, “Sis, bad idea.”

I brush my pants off. “Where the heck is Tessa and where did you come from?”

“The name I must not speak,” he says with a wavering voice, “told me you’d be here.”

“How?”

“Uhm,” Levon says as he grabs his necklace. “This is from Tessa so I can communicate with her and this,” he holds a small leather pouch in his hand. “This pouch is from you know who so I can hear him when he calls me.”

Levon takes a bite of bread and I snag it from his hand.

“Where’s Tessa?”

His brows furrow a moment, mouth slack with food stuffed inside. It’s Levon’s I have something to say but I forgot look.

Oh my, oh my.