The Price to Pay
by Margaret Cotter
There once was a place that was In-Between. It was the space between teeth, the gaps in the pine flooring, the holes found in trees where no owls sought to roost.
It was a place made of shadows, for shadows, and if you knew how to get there, you could walk between worlds like crossing between platforms at the train station.
But train tickets are never free. You cannot be so lucky as to find your destination marked on a discarded ticket on the ground. To travel between the worlds will also cost you, and for some, it costs a great deal.
None know this more than the keeper of the dark spaces, those that stand guard and warn of the price vagabonds will have to pay for leaving their homes behind. Here is the threshold, and to cross it, abandon all hope of return, of belonging. You cannot go back and find a home. To travel between worlds, you must lose the chance of being still, of being safe.
“Here is the line you must cross, like I have,” he said. “I was just a child when I wandered too far from home. I wanted adventures beyond my wildest dreams. I wanted to be the hero, but I lost what I might have had.
“Have you met my brother? He is the King of this world. He got everything he thought he could want. He sits upon a throne, and he is married to the most beautiful woman to cross into this world. For all appearances, he should be happy. But there is a price he had to pay. He paid it when he left this world to find his wife. My brother, the poor soul, is incapable of being loved. The woman he treasures so dearly, the heirs she has borne—he is not even sure they are his children—all look upon him not with love, but indifference. The babies felt no warmth for their would-be father; they only cried in his arms. The woman with whom he is so enamored, she is repulsed by his touch. He cannot belong to them, for he gave up belonging to any world long ago.
“Even I do not love him, I only pity him. When we were young, he was so bold and daring. Now he lives a life dictated by fear. He fears making the wrong move, hurting those he loves. His spirit is broken, and I believe he will die on the throne, only to leave it to an heir who will make no moves to preserve the memory of the king that brought them into being.
“This world lacks color, lacks music, and lacks passion. To travel like this, you will always lose what you desire most. The shadows feed on despair and gloom. To walk between them, I had to give them a way to find me again and again. I will always carry those shadows in my heart. I am cursed like my brother was before me. I am a man who will fall in love again and again with the wrong person, and I will never be satisfied. I cannot be loved in return without losing them, so I will walk between shadows and sacrifice what I can to those I love. It is a heavy price.
“Do you still wish to come this way?” he asked the woman.
Her hands rested on her belly which protruded outwards ahead of her, heavy with life.
“If I stay, I will be found out, and the consequences will be worse. The father,” her hand made a small circle on the side of her belly as she paused, looking for words.
“He is not good,” she finally said. “And if my child stays, if I stay, we will only fuel him. I don’t want the baby to be like him.”
Her eyes watered.
She did not notice the way the man’s eyes followed her every movement. This traveler had watched over her for so long, and she had never thought to meet his gaze.
“I might be able to help, though there is still a cost. If your soul is hidden from the shadows, you may be able to pass through unmarred by them.”
“How can a soul be hidden?” she asked.
The traveler’s hand stretched towards her belly, but he did not touch it.
“Put it here, inside of this little one. You can hide your soul around the child’s, and perhaps you will reach another place where it can be returned to you.”
How the traveler would have given anything to the woman who would never be his.
She used magic to take the soul from her own chest, and tenderly, she tucked it away with the child, hidden deep among the potential for what could be, and the shadows could not reach it there.
The traveler showed her the deepest shadows, where not only could someone stay hidden, but someone could walk through the In-Between until a new door opened and there was a way out. Sometimes the In-Between looked like trees, foggy and cast in the darkest moonless night, those that traveled stepped over roots and moss. Sometimes the In-Between was a series of cresting waves, pulling those that traveled underneath and into different currents, swift and strong, they pulled and pushed those caught beneath them. This time, the woman walked through the In-Between as it was, narrow alleyways, bricks that ascended so high they blocked the skies, glass windows cast in shadows that blocked the stars from reflecting in them hung miles above. She walked until the narrow twisting alleyways opened up, and she was in a new world. This was a world without magic, a world with fast moving cars, and suspicious smells lurking around each corner.
She walked with a hand cast over the child, knowing she could no longer retrieve her soul from where she placed it, but she also knew, looking back, that she could not be followed. Here she was safe, and a little foot kicked at her from within. She kept moving away from the shadows until the road ahead was lit by streetlights and a sun was beginning to rise.
The traveler watched her go until she was out of sight, and he sighed, morose. Once more, he was left to wander alone between worlds. He could no longer watch over the woman he had fallen in love with. Was that the cost of keeping her safe? He would see fantastic sights aplenty, experience countless adventures, taste every exotic dish that could be offered, and there would be no one to tell. He might tell himself sometimes, but even then, the sound of his voice echoing back to himself from the shadows could only leave him feeling more and more lonely.
Margaret Cotter (she/her) is a writer living in South Carolina with her husband and currently four cats. There may be more cats by the time you read this.