Forgotten Read online

  He is sad! Miserable, actually! How did this happen? When did this happen? And how did I not know?

  Kalona had opened his mouth to speak to Erebus—to ask him what had upset him, but his brother had abruptly stood, made a quick excuse about forgetting something he’d intended to do, and left the balcony.

  Nyx had chosen then to reappear beside Kalona, soaking wet and laughing as she wrapped her arms around him, saying, “Come swim with me, my love!”

  Kalona could not—would not—tell his Goddess no, but he made a mental note to observe his brother more closely. And observe Erebus he did. Kalona tapped into his innate warrior skills and covertly studied his brother. He didn’t exactly stalk Erebus. Instead, he thought of it as a reconnaissance mission with his brother’s mental health as the target.

  What Kalona discovered troubled him greatly.

  Erebus had become so good at withdrawing that he’d mastered the ability to make it seem as if he was present when he was not. He would make plans with Nyx and Kalona—he would even be with the two immortals at the beginning of whatever adventure the three of them had decided to embark upon, seemingly enthusiastic and joyful. But more often than not, Erebus would make an excuse and leave Nyx and Kalona alone to complete the adventure.

  “Have you noticed that Erebus seems withdrawn and quieter than usual?” Kalona asked Nyx one warm, beautiful day when the three of them were supposed to be in disguise to attend and bless the Celts Beltane celebration, but somehow in the revelry Erebus had slipped away.

  Nyx was laughing in Kalona’s arms as they danced around one of the big bonfires. She was wearing an elaborate headdress made of vines and flowers and ribbons, with the image of a full moon resting in the center of it all. Kalona’s wings were tucked carefully against his back, concealed by a long white cloak. His headdress featured antlers and ferns. The two of them moved with the crowd, but many of the Celts recognized that there was something special about the couple, and they were frequently given gifts of golden jewelry and beaded leather belts. Nyx tilted her face up, smiling.

  “What did you say, my beloved? Did you ask something about Erebus?”

  “I did.” Kalona twirled Nyx around, drawing her closer within his arms so that he could speak more intimately with her. “I do not see him anywhere, and I wondered if you’d noticed that he has been withdrawn lately.”

  Nyx searched the crowd with her sharp eyes. “I did not realize he left. Now that you mention it, I believe he has been disappearing often.” Her looked turned contemplative, and then she smiled brilliantly. “He has probably taken a lover! Oh, I hope it is someone he has a passionate affair with, and that he even fathers children here on Earth!”

  Kalona was taken aback. “That’s possible?”

  “Of course.” Nyx tilted her head to the side, studying her Consort. “Would you like a child, my love?”

  “Your child?”

  Nyx’s musical laughter caused several couples near them to smile in response.

  “Oh, no! I have children aplenty here on Earth.” She swept out an arm in a graceful gesture that took in the celebrating Celts. “But you could take a human lover. You would father children with her. I am quite sure they would be spectacular.”

  “And you would not be jealous of my human lover?”

  Nyx’s smile was slow and seductive. “Would I need to be?”

  “Never. No woman—human or immortal—could ever take me from your side.”

  “Then, no. I would not be jealous. And I would shower your children with a multitude of blessings.”

  Kalona twirled his Goddess around again. “I will keep that in mind should I feel the need to be a father. Right now, I’m more concerned about being a brother.”

  “You are a wonderful brother. It is one of the great joys in my life that you and Erebus have grown so close,” said Nyx.

  “That is why I’m concerned. I worry when he withdraws.”

  “Do not worry, my love. Our Erebus is one of the happiest beings in my realm. If he doesn’t have a secret love, then he is probably planning a surprise for us.”

  “I’m sure that’s all it is,” said Kalona as he and Nyx moved to the pulse of the music again.

  But the son of the Moon couldn’t stop thinking about the sadness he’d seen so clearly in his brother’s face. He’d recognized the despair of loneliness all too well, and he was determined that he would not let his brother suffer in silence. So, on a day when Nyx was on Earth blessing the opening of a new House of Night Temple, Kalona went in search of his brother.

  Erebus wasn’t difficult to find. The brothers were connected, and Kalona often used that connection to find him, but he also knew Erebus’s favorite spots. That day the golden-winged immortal was sitting silently beside the geyser he’d created for Nyx during their water test so many centuries before. Kalona circled overhead, gliding on silent wings, watching his brother. Completely unguarded, Erebus looked miserable. His shoulders were slumped and his wings loose—as if he hadn’t the energy to tuck them against his back. He sat staring at nothing, face propped up by his fist, his expression filled with a sadness that was all too heartbreakingly familiar to Kalona.

  “What I don’t understand is why you created that thing with this smell,” Kalona said as he landed beside his brother. “You made it. Couldn’t you also make it smell good?”

  Erebus’s look changed, brightened, as he motioned for his brother to sit beside him on the log he’d felled many years before and placed perfectly for viewing his faithful geyser. “Ah, brother! Would you be offended if I told you that I purposefully did not remove the smell all those centuries ago because I knew it would annoy you?”

  Kalona snorted. “Offend me? No. You used to pretend to be perfect, but I’ve always known you’re incorrigible.” He softened the remark with a warm smile. “Just as you’ve always known my true nature.”

  “Arrogant? Proud? And too ready to use your sword instead of your wits?” Erebus teased.

  “Exactly! But of course you left out that I am also rakishly handsome and exceedingly generous.”

  “I’ll try to remember that next time I’m asked about your true nature. Good thing we understand each other.”

  “Yes. Good thing. I think it’s part of being brothers,” Kalona said.

  “I think you’re right,” Erebus said.

  Kalona cleared his throat. “So. What is wrong?”

  Erebus blinked in surprise. “Wrong? With whom?”

  “You.”

  Erebus’s brow went up sardonically. “I thought you just said I was perfect.”

  “I said you used to pretend to be perfect. We already established that I know better. And I also know there’s something wrong.” Kalona reached out and tapped Erebus’s chest over his heart. “There.” And then he tapped his brother’s temple. “And there.”

  His brother swatted his hand away and made a show of laughing. “Big bro, my heart and head are fine.”

  Instead of laughing with him, Kalona simply shook his head. “Little brother, we made a promise to each other to always tell the truth. I hold you to that promise now. What is wrong?”

  Erebus opened his mouth to give a flippant answer, but the expression on his brother’s face had him sighing and looking away instead.

  “You can tell me. You’ve seen me at my worst and you were there for me. Little brother, let me be there for you too.”

  Erebus stared at the faithful geyser that was spewing hot, sulphuric water and steam into the air. He spoke slowly, softly, as if he had to coax each word to leave him.

  “I am lonely.”

  Kalona nodded. “I can see that. And I owe you an apology. You’ve been withdrawn. You disappear suddenly when you accompany Nyx and me to Earth. I’ve known it for some time now, and I should have spoken to you earlier. I should have gone after you—brought you back to us.”r />
  “I do appreciate your care for me, but bringing me back to continue watching Nyx and you fall more and more in love every day—every year—every decade—does not help my loneliness.”

  “Then tell me what will help.”

  Erebus’s laugh lacked any humor. “Could you conjure another goddess? This time for me.”

  “Ah, that kind of loneliness. But Nyx and I thought you’ve been taking frequent human lovers,” said Kalona.

  “I have. Well, I did.” Erebus finally met his brother’s gaze. “Have you ever taken a human lover?”

  “No. How could I? Who could possibly compare to Nyx …” Kalona’s words ran out as he understood. “No one. No human could compare to our Goddess.”

  “Exactly,” Erebus said. “Humans can be delightful. They are enthusiastic, giving lovers. But they are not divine and they are not immortal.” He gazed at the geyser as the huge plume of water and steam sputtered and died. “At first I didn’t mind not having a mate. Nyx’s realm is a place of beauty and wonder, and I love to explore it. The earth too, fascinates me. I’ve spent centuries exploring it—with Nyx and you, and also alone. But it has been centuries uncounted, and I grow weary of being alone.”

  “And yet here you are—alone,” Kalona said gently.

  Erebus nodded. “It is a paradox. I am lonely, and yet it is worse when I’m with Nyx and you. Big bro, I’m not sure what to do.”

  Kalona clapped Erebus on his shoulder. “I know exactly what to do.”

  Erebus sat straighter. “You do?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “I think it would be better if I showed you,” Kalona said cryptically.

  “Can you give me a hint?” Erebus asked.

  “I can. What I’m going to do is the right thing—just as you did for me so long ago.”

  “But what exactly does that mean?”

  “Well,” Kalona said as he stood and readied himself to fly away. “First it means I’m going to put things right with our mother.”

  Erebus’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “After all this time? But she sleeps.”

  “She certainly does, but one of the things I have learned from years of observing the Tsalagi peoples is that mothers always hear the cries of their children.”

  Erebus’s brows met his hairline. “You’re going to cry?”

  Kalona grinned. “Something like that. It’s my turn, little brother. And I won’t let you down.” He crouched, ready to spring into the sky, but paused first. “This might take some time. Would you tell Nyx that there is something I must do, and that I will return to her realm afterward?”

  “Of course, but she’s going to want to know where you are.”

  “Tell her I am repaying the debt I owe my little brother. Our Goddess will understand. Also tell her I love her with every breath I draw.”

  With that, Kalona spread his mighty moonlight-colored wings and flew into the sky, heading east. His wings beat against the wind as he rode the air currents up so high that the boundaries of nations were indecipherable and the earth below him blurred into soft shades of azure, jade, and white. On and on he flew until the ocean stretched below him, at first turquoise, then changing as it deepened to navy and sapphire—and finally turning the familiar blue-gray of the waters surrounding the island on which he and his brother had been birthed.

  He circled the island, searching for the perfect spot, and when he finally found a thick, verdant grove overlooking the sea, Kalona landed. It was a sunny morning, but the warmth of Erebus’s father didn’t penetrate the grove and Kalona was glad of his wings, which hugged his back, warming him. He moved through the grove until he came to the heart of it, the center of which held two rowan trees that had grown twined together, their red berries seeming to crown their joining.

  In front of the rowans was a boulder of white marble carpeted with moss. Kalona sat on the rock, drew a deep breath, and began calling.

  “Great Earth Mother, it is your son, Kalona. Erebus and I need you. Please awaken.” Kalona paused and listened.

  Nothing.

  The immortal sighed, shrugged, and repeated, “Great Earth Mother, it is your son, Kalona. Erebus and I need you. Please awaken.”

  All through the day, Kalona sat in that isolated grove, calling to his mother. Huge, shaggy cows were drawn to him. They circled the spot, from which he did not move, chewing silently and watching the immortal with gentle brown eyes. Over and over Kalona spoke the same words until the sun set and the moon lifted, shedding silver-white light that trickled through the leaves, turning the grove into a fantasy landscape and the highland cows to the creatures of dreams.

  Kalona called until his voice was gravel. And still he called. The moon sank into the ocean and the sun lifted above the horizon, exchanging silver light for golden—and that is when the entwined rowan trees shivered. The cows snorted, coming fully awake after their long vigilance of watching over the winged immortal. As one, they turned their shaggy, horned heads toward the two trees just as the moss that blanketed the ground around them stirred and then lifted, forming the shape of a reclining woman. Her hair was made of delicate rowan leaves, and red berries crowned her head. Her skin was moss and clothed with maidenhair ferns. Her body was lush and full. She blinked open her earth-colored eyes slowly, stretched, and yawned before focusing on Kalona.

  He’d stopped calling as he watched her form, and when her gaze turned to him, Kalona left his marble seat to kneel before her.

  “Great Earth Mother! Thank you for answering my call.”

  “Kalona? It is you, child. Have I slept long?”

  “Yes, Mother, centuries,” said the immortal.

  Earth yawned again sleepily. “And yet I am still weary. I must sleep longer. I will speak to you when I awaken, son of the moon and—”

  “No! Wait! You cannot sleep yet. I need to say something to you, and I also need your help.”

  She frowned at him. “Kalona, what have you done? Has Darkness entered the realm of my lovely friend, Nyx?”

  “No! With Erebus’s help I was able to defeat my jealousy, and because I was no longer angry, Darkness was not able to gain entrance to the Otherworld.”

  “Nyx is well?” asked Mother Earth.

  “She is.”

  “And my other son, Erebus? He is well?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Excellent. I must say that I am pleased that you have defeated your jealous nature. I feared that you would not, and that Nyx would eventually have to banish you to keep Darkness from her realm.”

  “I was wrong before—during the tests you devised for Erebus and me. You were right to test me. I was not worthy of Nyx’s love. Mother, I apologize that I was so difficult—that I seemed uncaring and arrogant.”

  Mother Earth studied her son. “You have changed. I can see it. Your eyes are no longer shadowed. I accept your apology—gladly.” She glanced around the clearing. As she noticed the raptly watching cows, she made a slight gesture with one hand, and tufts of impossibly sweet alfalfa materialized in piles before them. “Thank you for watching over my son,” she told them.

  The cows lowed softly before they buried their muzzles in the alfalfa.

  Mother Earth returned her attention to Kalona. “I do not see my other son. Is he not with you?”

  “No, but he is the reason I called you.”

  Her dark gaze sharpened. “But you said he was well.”

  “He is, but he will not continue to be if you and I do not help him.”

  Mother Earth sat up, resting her verdant back against the trunk of the rowan trees. “What is wrong with him?”

  “He is lonely,” said Kalona simply.

  “Are you not his friend? And what of my Goddess? Is Nyx also not Erebus’s faithful friend?”

  “Yes! We lo
ve Erebus. We are family, but it isn’t a friend or a brother, or even a sister that Erebus needs. He longs for a mate—for the kind of love Nyx and I share,” said Kalona.

  “Ah, I see. I assumed he would content himself with human lovers, and that his sense of fun and joy would enable him to move from lover to lover gracefully.”

  “And I believe he would have been content with that life—had he not gifted me with some of his magnificent joy. And though I did not mean for it to happen, in return he received a measure of my anger.”

  “And that sliver of anger allowed loneliness to enter him and to grow,” said Mother Earth. “I see. And has he turned to anger as well?”

  Kalona shook his head. “It is not his way. I do not believe my brother will ever embrace anger. Instead sadness fills him, moving him to despair.”

  “Yes, despair is more in your brother’s nature—anger is more in yours,” Mother Earth agreed. “You should know that both emotions are allies of Darkness. Both will eventually destroy Light if left unchecked.”

  “I agree, and with your help we can stop that from happening.”

  “What is it you propose?”

  “It’s really quite simple. I only ask that you create one more immortal—a being brought to life especially for Erebus, who will live eternity at my brother’s side and save him from a life of loneliness,” said Kalona.

  “I can do that, Kalona, but in order to create this incredible being I need an equally incredible sacrifice as I am too weary to seduce the sun or the moon again.”