Belladonna

if it was too early to be sure, Lynnea should have said something to her or Nadia. Because, obviously, Lee had been given a hint.
    Would giving Lynnea a present of baby blanket and booties be too unsubtle a request for information?
    A tremor went through the currents of power — there and gone. But it was enough to remind her that something strange had happened and it was best to be cautious until she discovered who had entered her landscape in an unexpected way — and why.

    *
The Eater of the World huddled in a cave within the water landscape It had shaped long ago. Its coloring matched the stones in the cave; Its only movement was the two tentacles extending beyond the cave, undulating in a way that made fish think they had found a meal when, in truth, they were about to become one.
    Simple minds. Simple creatures. It had nothing to fear from these things. It had no enemies in this landscape.
    The male who had escaped It was dangerous. The male had powers that made It uneasy because those powers stirred old memories too vague to be useful and too strong to be dismissed.
    Not quite like the True Enemy, whose resonance had filled the male's heart, allowing him to pull away from the Eater's landscapes. No, not like the True Enemy ... but like the Old Enemy. The ones who had locked It inside Its landscapes.
    But It was safe here. The male could not swim so deep to find It here. And the True Enemy did not know how to find It within Its own landscapes.
    It was safe here. It would eat and rest. Then It would go back to the landscapes filled with busy human minds. It would listen to the fears revealed in the twilight of waking dreams — and It would take more things from the natural world and shape them into nightmares. Fear would have a name and become stronger for the naming.
    Fear already had a name: The Eater of the World.
    Pleased that It had remembered this, It left the cave. The Landscaper It had ensnared in the bonelovers' landscape was probably nothing more than bones by now, but bringing those bones back to the cottage beside the hill would create more shadows in the people living in that village.
    Especially in the hearts that would be pleased to see the bones.

    *
Caitlin ran across sand that never ended toward a horizon that never changed. Light filtered through the bruise-colored sky, but she couldn't find the sun, so she had no way to tell which direction she was heading, and the only assurance she had that she wasn't walking in circles was the fact that she hadn't crossed her own footsteps or the lines and squiggles she occasionally made in the sand with the hoe handle for the sole purpose of showing herself where she had been just in case she was walking in circles.
    Feeling the stitch in her side flare up again, she slowed to a walk, breathing hard, craving water. But when she looked back, she saw the dark shapes heading toward her. Closing the distance.
    Can't, Caitlin thought as she stabbed the hoe handle into the sand and leaned on it. Can't run anymore. Need water, need rest, need a way out of this place, need ... help. Lady of Light, I need help.
    She looked toward the horizon and let out a sobbing laugh. More dark shapes. More of those creatures coming for a feast.
    Coming for her.
    Caitlin closed her eyes.
    Even if she could continue to outrun them, what would be the point? Survival? For what? There was no food, no water. She was going to die here, one way or the other. And even if she could get back to Raven's Hill with a snap of her fingers, living there wasn't much better than being lost in this place. Yes, she had Aunt Brighid and the garden, but her life was as barren as the sand.
    I don't want to go back to Raven's Hill. And I don't want to die here. I need help.
    The ground beneath her vibrated like she was standing on a giant tuning fork.
    Her eyes popped open and she twisted her torso to look around, not daring to move her feet.

    A long step away from her was a heart's hope plant, so tiny it could barely support the single bloom.
    Her breath caught. Her heart rapped against her chest. And she remembered what she had done in the meadow, what she had said.
    Maybe, she thought. Maybe.
    She glanced around. The dark shapes were getting closer. Couldn't think about that. Couldn't think about anything but what Ephemera could do.
    Shifting until she stood a shoulder-width from the heart's hope, Caitlin bent at the waist and held out the hoe handle with both hands. She rested the broken end on