The stolen car kicked up dirt as it drew to a stop on the edge of a stretch of road across the Ohio River from Midland, PA. It was getting dark, so Jeremiah glanced around for headlights before opening the back seat and pulling out a body wrapped in bed sheets. He made his way to the edge of the water, and carefully set Joanna down just barely beyond the reach of the water.

"Aaboukingon!" he shouted at the river. "Show yourself!" The water in front of him bubbled and churned, and soon the water parted and Aaboukingon emerged, in his human form.

"You're my son," he said, smiling as he extended his arms, "the messenger told me."

"It's a bit late for all that," Jeremiah replied, turning away. "Where have you been?" Aaboukingon stopped and sighed.

"It took me many years to recover from my time away from the river, and once I had, I was in no condition to leave again and look for you both. Even now, I can only manage to go a few feet inland before I grow dangerously weak."

"Good thing you don't have to go so far." With that, Jeremiah, pointed down to the body, and as realization dawned on Aaboukingon he nearly collapsed onto her. He pulled the blankets away, revealing her face, and laid his forehead on hers as he cried.

"Could you not help her? Oh, if I had found you, taught you-"

"I did help her. This world is no place for someone who lives with her heart among the spirits." Aaboukingon's gaze snapped to Jeremiah.

"What did you do?" he demanded, rising to his feet with his fists clenched.

"I don't want to hear it from you. She spent a lifetime suffering because of her devotion to you, and of the two of us I'm the only one who bothered to do anything about it!" Aaboukingon raised his hand and Jeremiah stiffened, gasping for breath.

"You killed her! I could have given her a better life, you could have given her a better life, but instead you killed her!" Jeremiah's eyes began to glow, and then he forced himself free of Aaboukingon's power and, with his own power, threw the river spirit at the water. Aaboukingon slid across the surface before coming to a stop and standing.

"You're still weak. No one calls the river by your name anymore. Soon no one will remember you. Then what will you be? Just another forgotten underling to the mighty Ohio? How does it feel to be an inferior water spirit to someone born of flesh?"

"You're no water spirit. You are hate, and rage, and death. I will ensure you never find any welcome in the River Network as long as you stay on this path!"

"There are better spirits than you to judge me, Aaboukingon." Jeremiah turned and walked back to the car before driving away. Aaboukingon returned to Joanna's body, lifted her into his arms, and together they disappeared beneath the river.

The doctor finally admitted to me to-day that there is nothing more he can do for me but ease the pain. It has grown so bad these last few days. The minister came around this after-noon to discuss matters with me. I told him the truth, that I had always had faith and still did; I left out the part about trafficking with spirits. I think he suspected, when he was looking at the books, but he did not ask. I am no Catholic, and neither is he; there is no need to make confession. It would be a lie if I did, anyway. I do not doubt I made the right choice about Aaboukingon, or that he made the right choice to return to the water. But I still stare out my window, looking off toward the Mississippi, hoping to see him come and make this all right again.

Fell ill earlier this week. Coughing something terrible, sometimes feels like I'm drowning, terrible pain in my chest. Doctor came around to-day and gave me something for the cough and pain, told me to rest and hope it blows over. When he listened to my lungs he looked concerned, I think he was sparing some some pain by not telling me what he heard. I only just managed to find solid work here, and with the way the world is now I do not know if the work will still be there if, and when, I feel better.

Have not been to the river since this began. Never realized how much comfort the water brought me until I could no longer get there. Left the Ohio long ago to find work along the Mississippi, but that water was still my refuge and my only connection to Aaboukingon. I miss him terribly. As I lay in my bed, I find myself playing through our times together over and over again. I fear this is some curse; the drowning feeling is my fate coming for me, punishment for turning aside from my god and family in favor of a water spirit.

​But I made my choice, and I will take what it brings.

Even within the metaphysical realm itself, the true spiritual nature of water is somewhat elusive. For most spirits going about their days on land or sky, the waters look much the same in that world as they do in ours. It is those few spirits who can dive deeper, slip not into the water but past it, that ever manage to find the true realm of water hidden behind the waves. There are a few distinct realms in Water; rain and clouds do not directly commune with rivers who work with but keep their distance from seas and oceans. They all work in concert, they all understand the importance of the others, and communication travels freely between them, but they are distinct and would remain so forever given the choice.

The River Network is as vast a plane as any in the metaphysical realm, stretching well past the borders of the actual rivers in the physical realm and branching out through underground aquifers and the artificial rivers mankind shapes with canals and pipes. It is a hectic, bustling realm, or collection of realms with oceans filling the enormous spaces between them. Scattered throughout the River Network are smaller waters, each governed by territorial spirits who cannot cross from one territory to another. The nature of these waters is a matter of ongoing dispute; in Africa, there is still a battle raging over whether the Upper and Lower Nile are two distinct waters or should be governed by one of the primary spirits in residence. A few other lands have access to the River Network, usually the homes of spirits associated with water but not part of it. Iravati is one such land, straddling  the banks of many rivers near the Indus Valley.

Aaboukingon was once the sovereign over a river that shared his name, when the people he knew spoke of their river with no regard for the names it had further up or down its banks. When the white man came they renamed it the Allegheny, then debated among themselves for years before deciding the Allegheny ended at Pittsburgh where the Ohio was born. Aaboukingon, being out of commission for significant portions of this process, woke to found himself a very powerful resident of someone else's river. It took some convincing for him to reclaim his waters, even if under the authority of Ohio, and still retain the freedom to move among Ohio's other waters. As soon as he could, however, he sent out messengers to scour the River Network for Joanna. By that time, the pressures of society against her occult leanings had paired with the uncertainty of the Great Depression to drive her away from Ohio's banks.

When word returned that she had been located in a small cottage in Arkansas, he immediately went to petition Mississippi for passage. But Mississippi did not know Aaboukingon as Ohio did, and anyway, what is one mortal to a spirit as grand and powerful as Mississippi? After a great deal of pleading and rebuttals, Aaboukingon accepted that he did not have time to continue this route and instead sent one of his messengers to find her and tell her to come home, that he was waiting for her, that he would give her everything he had ever promised and more just to see her again. When the messenger arrived, Joanna was not at the bank of the river, and it called out for bird or land or any other spirit who could hear it and bring Joanna to receive her summons. All day and most of that night it called out, and as dawn began to break, a young man stopped at the edge of the water and knelt down.

"Who are you calling for?" he asked the water, softly to avoid drawing the attention of other mortals.

"Joanna Matteson, bride of Aaboukingon! He has been searching for her, and now would welcome her home; and I have been sent to bring her home, but alas, I cannot leave these waters," the spirit replied. "But you are Riverborn! Do you know her? Can you find her?"

"I know her," the man said, "she is my mother, and Aaboukingon my father. I am on my way to her now, I--" he paused and looked away for a moment, then turned back to the water. "She is not well. I will see what I can do for her, but you go. Tell my father I will bring her home, one way or another." The river spirit poured out thanks, and as Jeremiah stood and turned his back to the river, the spirit rushed north to carry its new message.

Yester-day, Jeremiah had some conflict with a child at school and, in his rage, screamed at the other child. There are conflicting reports on exactly what happened next, but somehow the other child was thrown across the schoolyard and broke his arm. I could not help but remember the first time Abe met Rev. Halzberg and accidentally gave him the same injury. I don't need to know whether or not he touched the boy to understand what happened. I can now be certain he has his father's power. I apologized for his behavior, promised to address it, and we left in a hurry.

I spent some time praying at home before we went to the river. I sat on the bank and told Abe all that had happened, and begged him to return and help me. I don't know how to raise a child who can do the things he can do. I don't know how to help him. I don't even know where we can live without fear of condemnation. The river did not stir. No answers came, though we fell asleep on the shore waiting for them.

The other families are avoiding us. I feared this day would come. There had already been rumors, thanks to a few times I was caught talking to the river, but now the people have made decisions about us. We must move, if we are to be safe. I've learned that much. But I cannot leave the river, not yet. We have packed our essentials and my books into the car and I identified a small town further downstream that I hope will be far enough to have not heard about us. I've explained the situation to Jeremiah. He's so bright, that boy, he seemed to understand implicitly and agreed to be more careful in future. I will go back to the river, tell Abe where he can find us before we set out. Lord, please let him respond this time.

It has been two months since the weight of rejection and hatred in Allegheny forced me to take Jeremiah and move downstream. The people further west have not concerned themselves with the affairs of my home city, and had no reason to turn away a widow and her infant. It is difficult, allowing them to call me a widow, but it has been easier than the risk of telling them the truth. The fact that Jeremiah bears Indian features and dark skin has hindered our welcome, but not as bad as it could be.

Even Marilyn asked us to leave, in the end. Brandon was attacked and she feared it was due to their affiliation with me. She cried when she turned me away, but I cannot allow that to to obscure the fact that she turned us away.

I have gone to the river every day and spoken to Abe. I don't know if he hears me. He has certainly never replied. I have tried to keep him informed of our situation, where to find us, how quickly our son grows. His extended absence has made me worry. I threatened gods and spirits when he was taken from me, and if he is not returning and I am to continue going to the river, I must prepare for the possibility that I may be called on these words. I found a small, discrete bookseller in the next town, and have been able to secure a couple books on the occult with promises of more to come. I do not mean to dabble in witchcraft, but I must be prepared. I must know what will come for us, if anything, and how to defend against it. Lord grant that I never have to use this knowledge.

From Joanna's bed, she could look out the window and see the river as it returned to normal over the last few days. She was still on bed rest, recovering from the hypothermia she had when the driver brought her to the doctor's home. The driver had told the doctor that he saw her walking along the shore when she slipped and fell into the river. She had decided it best to let them accept that story.

​Across the river, news had reached Allegheny that Dr. Price, Rev. Halzberg, and Old Tom had been lost in Madison and three bodies that seemed to be theirs had been found, badly burned, in what remained of the Matteson estate. The city was in uproar, many blaming the Wozniaks for the deaths and others trying to defend the family. Either way, there was rumor that the Wozniaks were looking to leave Allegheny out of fear, and other whispers that Pittsburgh was filing paperwork to absorb the city while the populace was too fractured to stop it.

It was too early for the doctor to confirm Aaboukingon's words about Joanna, but she rested a hand on her belly and wondered what she would do all the same. As she watched the water, she noticed her ring on the nightstand beneath the window. It looked odd today, almost as if it was growing dull. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched it, only to watch it collapse into a small pile of sand. She choked back a tear, then turned to ring the bell beside her bed.

"Please," she asked, when the doctor's wife opened the door, "could you find me a small container? I should like to collect that." She indicated the sand, and the other woman looked at it puzzled for a moment before slowly nodding and leaving the room. She returned with a small glass vial, which had previously held some medicine or another but had since been cleaned out, and Joanna carefully gathered the sand into it. After making a crude label for it, she marked it "Abe" and strung it onto a necklace. She would need to have it available if she expected Aaboukingon to turn it back into her wedding ring.

As the evening crickets began their songs, the water of the Ohio River stirred. The water began to rise, and slowly form into a more human shape. As it stepped toward the shore, the look of it changed until a Native American man stood on dry land. He looked around, then knelt and scooped up a handful of sand. He smelled it, then turned back to another mound of water rising from the river.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

"You've been gone twenty three years, Aaboukingon," a voice from the trees answered. He turned and looked, finally spotting two ravens sitting on a branch. One of them had a faint blue glow to it.

"No, no, that-that doesn't make sense! I was only gone a moment!"

"For you. Humans do not operate on our timeframes." Aaboukingon dropped down, sitting on the ground and looking out toward the water for a long moment. Finally, he turned back to the trees, his eyes beginning to water.

"You. You saved her. Is she still alive?"

"Yes," the black raven said.

"Where is she?" The two ravens looked at each other, and then the blue one sighed. They flew down to the ground, changing into human forms just before touching down. One was a man, dressed in a hooded robe that cast a shadow across his entire face except his mouth and chin. The other was a woman, floating above the ground, composed entirely out of flowing blue energy.

"I'm sorry," she said, floating over to Aaboukingon. "You're too late. She's been forced to leave the river." Aaboukingon stood and wiped at his face as he began to pace.

"No, no. I came back. I told her I'd come back!"

"She couldn't stay."

"Does she know? Will she know I came back?" he asked, stopping in front of the woman.

"Not yet," the robed man answered.

"Will you tell her?"

"She will know." Aaboukingon covered his face with his hands. The woman came beside him and wrapped her arms around him, letting him cry. Finally, he stepped back, and turned to the robed man.

"Will she return?"

"After a fashion."

"Can I wait for her?"

"Not here. Your river still needs you. But ask the others, and they will tell you what they see." Aaboukingon wiped his face again and stood for a moment, before nodding.

"Of course. I will do as you say." The robed man nodded, and then Aaboukingon turned and walked back into the water, vanishing beneath the surface. After he was gone, the woman floated back to the robed man.

"When does she return?" she asked.

"Too soon," he said, turning and walking away from the shore.

Joanna was wrapped in the few blankets the driver had on hand, trying to fight off the cold from kneeling in an ice-locked river. Aaboukingon, on the other hand, actually seemed to be doing somewhat better. Color had returned to his face and his bleeding had slowed, and Joanna refused to put anything on him that would pull away the water from the river. He finally opened his eyes as the car came to a stop near the bank of the Ohio River, then called the Allegheny by some, on the shore opposite the city where the pair had met.

"Joanna," he whispered, slowly reaching a shaking hand to her cheek.

"Abe, oh, are you recovering? Did the river save you after all?" He shook his head slightly, and she brushed the hair away from his face. "Then rest, please. We're here." The driver opened the door and helped Joanna out before lifting Aaboukingon and carrying him to the river's edge. Again, Joanna broke the ice, and slid his legs into the water. The driver went back to his car and waited. The ice in the river began to rise, and a single spirit formed from it.

"Aaboukingon," it said, slowly moving toward him.

"Can you help him?"

"I must ask the others." A column of water formed from the side of the spirit and stretched out, wrapping around the back of Aaboukingon's head and lifting him into a seated position. It wiped across his face, and he took a deep breath as his eyes flew open. "This will buy you time. But only very little." With that, the spirit vanished into the ice again, and Joanna fell to her knees beside Aaboukingon, who leaned on her chest. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his hair.

"Joanna," he said, his voice still soft and weak.

"Yes, my love?" she asked, pulling back to look at him.

"You must know. I can only recover now by returning."

"Returning...to the river?" He gave a weak nod. "I feared as much."

"I must be a spirit again. But if I go, know that I will return. Once I am well, I will come back for you."

"Where? Here?"

"Anywhere on the river will do. I will go where you are." He slowly reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Must you leave me here alone?"

"You will not be alone. Not for long," he said, lowering his hand and touching her abdomen. "I felt it when I was healing you." She began to buckle, falling forward into his arms.

"Don't make me do this without you." The ice rose again as the spirit returned.

"He may return," it said. "We will see to his recovery." Joanna kissed Aaboukingon before pulling away from him and standing to face the spirit. She wiped her eyes and stared at it.

"You send him back to me when he's well."

"This is not my decision. The gods must allow his return."

"You tell any god that dares take my husband from me that it can come deal with me itself." Aaboukingon chuckled and then groaned, grabbing his gut and leaning forward. Before Joanna could react, the spirit was on him, water covering his form as he began to drift toward the center of the river.

"I will be back for you," he said reaching out his hand toward her before vanishing beneath the ice. Joanna stood, watching the river for a few moments, before she began to shiver. As she tried to take a step back, she stumbled and collapsed. The driver jumped out of his car and ran to her, scooping her limp form in his arms as he turned and made his way back.

"Help us!" Joanna cried, seeing the car waiting. The driver turned to see her emerging from the woods, dragging a man who was softly muttering to himself. Beyond them, the smoke from the house was just visible through the trees, with the glow of the fire casting long shadows.

"Holy shit lady, what's going on?!"

"We need help!"

"Look, I'm not really--"

"Why are you here?"

"I was hired! Asked to pick up three men, a reverend and--"

"They burned down my home and have nearly killed my husband, and if you don't let us in this car not only will he die but I will make every remaining second of your life a waking hell, do you hear me?" The driver looked from her to the distant fire a few times before putting his hat on and jumping out to open the door and help her get Aaboukingon inside.

"There's a doctor in town," he offered, climbing back into his seat and throwing it into gear.

"I fear it's too late for that. Take us to the river."

"The river? What are you on about, lady?"

"Drive!" He grunted and stomped the gas.

The car wound its way to the Youghiogheny River, a tributary of the Monongahela and the closest river the driver could think of. Joanna spent the route trying to comfort Aaboukingon as he stared off into space and shivered. When they arrived, the driver helped carry him to the water and then stepped back. Joanna broke the ice and made sure Aaboukingon was mostly in the water, then knelt beside him. The driver removed his hat and began wringing it between his hands as he watched. Joanna sat for a moment, waiting for a response that didn't seem interested in coming.

"This is Aaboukingon!" She finally yelled at the river. "He is one of yours! Come to his aid!" There was a moment of silence before the ice in the middle of the river began to crack and bulge. As two mounds of water began to rise through, the driver screamed and ran back to his car. Once in, he laid down and peeked his eyes over the edge of the door, watching. Joanna remained unmoved.

"What is the meaning of this?" the spirits asked in unison.

"This is Aaboukingon, of--"

"We know who this is. He is no longer our concern."

"But he's like you! He's a river spirit!"

"He has abandoned his river and chosen mortality. So mortality he shall have."

"Please, no, there has to be something you can do!"

"Only his own waters could accept him now. If you must beg of the waters, let his own determine his fate." With that, the spirits returned to the river. Joanna stood and yelled at the river for a few moments, before kicking the water and then dropping back to Aaboukingon's side and crying. Slowly, the driver emerged from his car and made his way to the riverbank, holding his hat.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but what--what was that?" Joanna sniffled hard and stood, smoothing out her soaked dress. She continued to look out into the water.

"Drive us to the Allegheny River. Near the town of the same, preferably."

"Oh, but ma'am, I--"

"I'll need your help getting my husband into the car, and then we shall be on our way quickly. There is no time to lose. If we go to Allegheny City I'll see to it you are properly compensated."

"That's rather outside of--"

"I'm sorry, sir," she said sternly, turning to face him. "Did I ask a question?"

"I--no, ma'am, you did not."

"I fear I will lose my husband today, either to death or to his own kind. If I must make that choice, then I cannot advise you to interfere with it."

"Of course, ma'am," the driver said, putting on his hat and kneeling to lift Aaboukingon.

The property owned by Aaboukingon and Joanna Matteson housed a beautiful yard bordered by a creek and a number of old, strong trees. A great many animals made their homes in the forest that stretched beyond their land claim, and little attention was paid on most days to the birds who gathered nearby but did not sing. The pathway from the road was largely in shade, a place of quiet serenity opening to the estate where both husband and wife were asleep late into the morning. Abe had only just mustered the energy to move about the house unassisted, and Joanna was busy fretting over him. He probably could have been more active, if Joanna wasn't so insistent on his need for a little more rest to ensure he didn't strain himself. All things considered, it was little surprise they did not pay mind to the ravens watching the shadows from their perch beside the house, even though one raven had a faint blue glow to her. It was less of a surprise they did not see the men who moved through those shadows this morning.

I would have warned her, if I could. I made to move, to go to the window and speak of all that was coming, but the other looked at me with knowledge and pain in her eyes and I knew I could not. We knew what was to come of this day, and the need for it to happen as it had always happened.

When Old Tom, Reverend Halzberg, and Dr. Price arrived in Madison the afternoon prior, they began to ask around after Miss Wozniak. Few in the small town knew her name, but on further questioning did mention rumors of strange recent occurrences centered on one estate. The trio were able to gather enough information to be certain they were on the right track, and spent the night making their plans. The doctor brought his gun, the reverend a glass flask of grain alcohol, and Old Tom an early-model lighter and enough malice for the lot.

​The door was unlocked as Joanna had last entered in haste. Quietly and slowly, the three crept in to find any sign of magic. After what they'd found at Manfred's house, they expected the usual sort of things, stacks of demonic books and runes carved into wood and circles painted onto floors. They heard someone moving around upstairs and made their way to the study. Once there, they set about digging through for anything that looked arcane and, turning up nothing, began to bicker about whether this was even the right house. Meanwhile, we flew around the property until we found a branch to see through the right window.

"You already remember this," my companion said. "From every perspective there."

"You're just as connected to this as I am."

"Yes. But I don't need to watch. Why do you?"

​"I have to know," I answered. "I have to know it from my own perspective." She began to preen, occasionally glancing up to watch.

We flew around the house again, using the smoke to mask our movements as other animals left the area. Not that they were watching us, anyway. I watched as Aaboukingon tripped and stumbled, shaking his head to maintain focus and looking around as though lost.

"He isn't doing it," the other warned as we passed overhead.

"I know! But he has to, how else-"

"Do you remember what she saw?"

"Nothing! She has no memory of this, and his mind is..." I landed and tried to think. She landed next to me and nudged me.

"Hey. Hey! They don't remember. We know what needs to happen." I took a deep breath and watched as Aaboukingon fell to one knee and began struggling to stand.

"You're right." We flew down and landed in front of him, and he staggered for a moment as he stared at us.

"You...you're the Two!" He said, his eyes growing wide.

"Yes."

"Why are you-"

"No time. Just follow us." With that, we took flight again, and began leading him on. He struggled, but kept pushing forward. Sometimes we had to circle back, make sure he didn't lose us, but we knew the journey wasn't far. Joanna looked like she was already dead, but we could all feel her barely hanging on. We landed on the far bank of the creek, and watched as he dropped to his knees and lowered her in. Running his hand over her, he called the water to follow. The water flowed up and over her chest, washing over the wound and glowing. Finally, her breathing returned to normal, and as she sat up she saw him briefly smile before passing out on the bank next to her. By that point, we were back in the trees, out of her sight.

"What now?" I pointed toward the car that pulled up to the edge of the property.

"The trio arranged an escape," I answered, "But they aren't the ones who'll use it."