From Darkness Won (35 page)

Noam stepped into the cottage carrying the lantern that had hung outside. “What’s the matter?”

“Gren?” Harnu inched closer, staring as if he thought she might be dying. “Are you well?”

She ran past him, bumping his arm so that he twisted around to watch her run out the door. Sounds of retching reached back inside the house.

“Think she’s ill?” Harnu asked Noam.

“She’s with child,” Noam said. “Weird things happen, or so I’ve been told.”

With child? Averella’s thoughts jumbled together.

Harnu took the lantern from Noam and carried the fish toward the door, then started back the other way. “I’ll take this out the back.”

“Smart plan.” Noam walked to the cluttered table. “You truly care for her?”

Harnu paused before a door at the opposite end of the room. “For as long as I can remember.”

Noam grunted. “Probably shouldn’t have beat her friends on a regular basis, then. Achan especially.”

“Think I don’t know I was a scoundrel? A fool to follow Riga like a dog? I’ve begged her forgiveness a dozen times over. She says it doesn’t matter. What else can I do?”

“Nothing, if she won’t have you.”

“There must be something.”

Noam sat at the table and stretched out his legs. “You’ve kept her house. Now you’re going to feed her. You’ve helped her with her friend’s body. Be patient. Maybe she’ll come around.”

“But what of this knight she speaks of? Has she lost her head? Could a knight have pledged to marry a widowed peasant? One already with child? It’s madness.”

Averella had to agree. Unless the child were Bran’s. The thought made her knees weak. Bran would never…

“Nothing would surprise me these days,” Noam said.

But Harnu shook his head. “Despite what happened with Achan, Gren’s no lost princess. I don’t believe a knight would woo her with pure motives.”

“Why not? If you were a knight, you would.”

“That is not the— Enough of this!” Harnu wrenched open the back door and took his fish out into the Darkness.

Averella’s head spun. It was simply impossible. Bran would never take advantage of a woman. He had the purest heart of any man she had ever known.

Gren inched back in the open front entrance, her posture sheepish.

“He took the fish out back,” Noam said. “Make an effort to eat it. There’s nothing else.”

“But it smells horrible!”

“Gren, can
you
hunt for us? Because I know nothing about killing animals or fish. Without Harnu, we starve. Think of your child. It needs the food as much as you.”

“I’m not saying I won’t eat it. I just don’t like the smell.”

“And I am simply suggesting you try to be a little kinder to our provider, lest you drive him away. I know the situation is awkward, but…”

“I’ll try, Noam. For you.”

“Thank you, Grenny.”

Gren brought in a lantern and pulled a fresh blanket over Averella’s body, as if she were merely napping and not infected
w
ith a storm. Averella hovered by the sideboard, staring at a pitcher of water, suddenly extremely thirsty. How many days had passed for her without food or drink? Would her body die without nourishment?

A shadow fell over the bed. Averella turned to see Harnu standing in the doorway like a sentry guard.

“We should talk of what to do if she never wakes,” Harnu said.

“Don’t say that!” Gren said. “What if she can hear you?”

Harnu shrugged. “How could she possibly hear me?”

“She’s only sleeping, you know. If she hears she’s dying she might give up the fight.”

Harnu looked like he was making an effort to stay calm. “Gren, we can’t stay here forever. My father needs me.”

“
Your
father. Everything is always about you. What about me?”

“Gren, I’ve done everything I can for you. I finished your cottage. Stood by while you married my friend. Stole this lady from Lord Nathak’s wagon. Unless you agree to be my wife, my responsibility is to my father.”

“So if I marry you, you’ll help me. That’s what you’re saying?”

“I’m helping you already. What more do you want?”

“I want you to leave me alone, Harnu. Go away.” She turned her back to Harnu and straightened the blanket around Averella’s chin.

Harnu stared at the back of Gren’s head until he finally said, “Good night, Grendolyn.”

• • •

The following morning, Averella, restless with boredom, followed Gren and Noam outside. Noam went around to the stable. Gren knelt at the water’s edge and washed her face. Noam appeared a moment later with Kopay and led the horse to the stream.

A bird squawked, drawing Averella’s attention to a tree across the creek. A gowzal perched in the branches, facing her, its eyes black and hypnotic.
You have lost your way, my lady. Come with me and I will take you home.

Averella stared at the creature. Had it just spoken to her?

Do not fear, my lady
, it said in a familiar humming voice.
I have been sent to help you. Lady Nitsa awaits your company.
The bird flapped its wings, quickly at first, hovering in the air above Averella, then it flapped slowly and rose above the roof of the cabin.

Averella floated up over the cabin and after the gowzal, eager to see Mother. The creature led her through a black void. How could it see in the dark? For that matter, how could she? By the time the questions occurred to her, she could no longer see the lantern glow at the cabin.

She hardly had time to panic for fear of losing sight of her guide. They flew a long time, occasionally passing over pricks of light below.

Suddenly, hundreds of sparks came into view like a swarm of fireflies. A city loomed ahead. As they neared, the sparks grew into torches perched along mismatched stone sentry walls, reflecting on oily water below. This was not Carmine, but Mahanaim. Averella had been here before with her mother. It must be time for another Council meeting. For that was the only reason Mother would be here.

The creature flew up to the central watchtower and entered an open window.

Averella slowed as she approached the window. She ducked her head, though her legs passed through the stone wall beneath the windowsill.

The bird soared into the open door of a birdcage and perched inside. It nipped at a dead mouse.

Averella stood in a circular room at the top of the watchtower.

The room was empty but for an elderly man wearing a black hooded robe, asleep on a small cot, and the birdcage on a marble pillar. A lone candle on the floor flickered, burned down to a stump of wax.

The man groaned, a long, keening sound. Averella backed against the window. Why had the creature brought her here? She did not want to meet this man. She wanted her mother.

The man lowered his feet to the floor and sat up. “Good, you are still here.” His droning voice was the same one that had come from the bird.

He stood, shuffled to the birdcage, and closed the door, latching the creature inside. The hood of his cloak covered his head, but she could see his face clearly. His skin had the color and leathery texture of oyster mushrooms. His eyes were grey, but stared at her in the same knowing manner the bird had.

“The problem, my dear, is simple. You have died.”

No. That could not be. For she had just left her body in the cottage, and, last she saw, it had been breathing.

“There is nothing you can do to put things back the way they were.”

Why, then, did you bring me here?
Averella asked.

“We can help one another.” His voice was like the lowest string on a harp. “I have the power to reunite you with your body.”

What do you want in return?

“Your eyes.” His eyes drilled into hers, pale and moist. She wanted to look away, so horrible was the chill his gaze inflicted. “Join with this gowzal. Fly where I need you to. Report to me what you see. When I am satisfied, I will put your mind back in your body.”

It wasn’t until he replied again that she realized he could hear her! Still, she didn’t like his look.
How can I know you will fulfill your side of this bargain?

“You cannot, my dear. But you have no other choice. Do not worry. I shall be more than fair.”

Averella stared at the caged creature and saw it had a fuzzy black beard.
It is a male bird?

The old man chuckled. “That does not matter. Simply concentrate on the creature. Look out through its eyes.”

Averella wrinkled her nose. The bird was so hideous that looking at it twisted her stomach. How could she bear to share its mind? What if it bit that mouse again?

But she so wanted to return to her body. Could this truly be the only way? She focused on the creature, felt herself draw nearer. Something dark gripped at her heart.

Sparrow, please speak to me. Tell me you are not in that coffin. Please?

Master Cham’s voice pulled Averella away from the bird.
Master Cham! Can you hear me?

She waited, glanced from the old man to the bird and back to the old man. Master Cham had mentioned a coffin. Had he followed her trail from Sitna? Come upon Lord Nathak’s
p
rocession? He seemed intent on finding her. The idea of such devotion filled her with familiar warmth.

Arman! She had forgotten her Creator.

Forgive me, Arman. I am lost, separated from my body, and, I fear, my memories. Is this man and his bird the only way back? Why can Master Cham not hear my words? What should I do? Help me, please.

A musical scream came from outside. “Kee-eeeee-arr.” The majestic sound lasted several seconds. Averella turned to see a great speckled hawk light on the windowsill. It screamed again. “Kee-eeeee-arr.”

Heat filled Averella from the inside. She could not keep from smiling.

The old man lifted a gnarled hand. “No, my lady! Do not trust it.”

But Averella already trusted it with all her heart. She threw her arms around the hawk’s neck, and it took off out the window and into the dark land.

Either the hawk flew faster or Averella was too filled with joy to notice the passing time. For moments later the hawk soared through the roof of a round pavilion, setting Averella’s transparent feet onto a woven straw mat.

With one last, “Kee-eeeee-arr,” the hawk flew away, leaving Averella inside the warm tent.

15

Achan lay on the bed in his tent. He’d been awake for hours, burrowing under his blankets like a mole, not wanting to get up yet. Today would hold much that he would rather not live through. A battle? A negotiation? Peace? Death?

He doubted peace would be the conclusion.