Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (24 page)

Beyond them, there
was shouting, and the crowd parted, giving them a view of the waterfront. 
The boats were cluttered together, masts stretching up to the heavens. Ava’s
heart tightened in despair.  They were nothing like her father's fishing
boat.   Jon turned, smiling down at her.

“Almost there
now,” he said happily.  “Those boats will take us across the sea to the
Americas.”  His hand tightened on her arm.  “To do God’s work… to
bring the heathens into the fold.” 

Ava nodded, her
gaze lifting above the tangle of masts and soot-stained buildings.  There
was a single seabird – a gannet – wheeling in the sky.  Her free hand
tightened against her pocket where the crude carving of the bird was tucked
away in the folds of her cloak: Thomas’ last gift.  The bird above circled
over it all…
free. 
For a brief, desperate moment, she wished
herself up in the clouds, too.

‘Away… away…
away
…’
her mind whispered.

She’d made the
prayer any number of times since her father had died, and the need to find a
suitable husband had begun pressing at her.   (Her mother could only
support so many mouths, after all.)  Jon paused, allowing a tightly-packed
carriage to pass, and Ava’s eyes dropped down.  Mud caked the bottom of
her cloak, the hem of her dress sodden and dripping.

It was a foolish
prayer.  God never listened.

: : : : : : : :
: :

Time rippled and
changed.  Ava’s vision fluttered, unhinged in the way that dreams often
are.  Her consciousness passed through a series of memories, like glimpses
of half-developed photographs, or snatches of conversation heard in passing –
not staying or participating – just hovering nearby.  Emotions rose up in
colours and flashes.  Love and lust, loss and grief.  In this muted
half-life, Ava moved forward like a ghost, unseen by others, but watching it unfold
before her, separate from herself.  

She watched the
two boats leave the safety of the harbour, the journey passing over weeks and
months, dreams and disappointments shifting and changing.  In her ear, a
single prayer repeated in litany, the coils of it wrapping round the twin
vessels, guiding them forward. 
‘Away… away… away…’ 
On the
horizon, clouds began to rise.

There were
bright flashes of lightning, and the delayed growl of thunder.  For a
moment, she could hear the hiss of rain.  Somewhere, Ava thought in
surprise, there’d been a dark room with a man hidden in the shadows.  She
pressed forward, seeking him out, but he wasn’t there.

There was only
more darkness.

‘A storm is
coming…’
Ava’s mind whispered anxiously. 

: : : : : : : :
: :

When Jon came
back down off the deck, she knew that it was the end.  He’d sworn that he
would pray for their salvation, that he would not leave the deck… but he was
here.  He stood in the doorway, water sloshing across the floor with each
heave.

“We’re lost,” he
gasped.  “She’s gone onto the rocks.”

Ava knew
this.  She’d felt the deep shudder tear through the beams underneath her,
had known the frisson of terror and then a sudden understanding. 
‘My
father’s there,’
her mind had offered.  If she’d said it aloud, Jon
would’ve taken it as a sign of her belief.  He would have been
wrong.  It was her
own
father she longed for… the one she’d thought
of in the last, endless hours, as the ship was battered to pieces within sight
of land.

“Pray with me,”
Jon murmured.  Ava pushed past him instead, heading up the listing stairs,
aiming for the deck.  If she was going to drown, she’d do it out in the
air.  Thomas was somewhere out there too.  They’d lost sight of the
second boat hours ago, but she knew the way she knew her own heart was still
beating: 
he was alive
.

Being on the
deck was certain death.  (So was being below decks.) The floor tipped
sideways as water filled the inner holds.  Behind Ava, the stairwell was
cluttered with screaming people clambering upward, desperate and terrified. She
couldn’t hear over the raging wind, the roaring sea.  Her eyes became her
ears now.  She saw people praying, sailors gesturing as they tried to
control the boat.  A wave slapped over the edge, dousing her. She caught
herself against the railing.  Two steps away, the captain was still at the
wheel, two men alongside him, fighting to steer the scuttled ship.

‘Too late,
’ an inner voice
cried.

There was a
deafening crack as the mast shattered. The sudden shift in balance sent Ava and
the others on deck tumbling over the edge as the great ship groaned like a dark
sea beast, then settled onto its side.  She came up gasping, her eyes
darting around in terror.  The icy water broke her stupor, and she
thrashed blindly, kicking with all her might.  She could smell smoke,
flickering yellow and orange like flowers appearing on the slick black side of
the ship.  The water was alive with people screaming, the horror of the
storm slashing at them.  Flotsam slammed against her, bludgeoning her
chest and limbs.  With strength born out of terror, she grabbed onto a
plank of wood, holding on with white-knuckled fingers. 

One of the casks
of gunpowder inside the ship caught hold and exploded.  The furious sea
threw Ava forward, then tossed her back as the ship moaned again and
half-righted itself before breaking along its spine.  The water swirled
once more, the surging wave sending her toward the front of the ship.

Above the
deafening roar of the storm, there was the sound of wood snapping. 
Gasping and coughing, Ava reached the top of the wave, her eyes widening in
horror.  The winged figurehead was looming toward her, falling into the
sea.   An angel of death.

“No, please,
God!” she cried as the figure swooped down, the solid weight snapping her back
as it landed, pushing her under.

Somewhere in the
churning water, a man was calling her name.

: : : : : : : :
: :

She lay in a
shimmering field of gold, grass dancing around the periphery of her vision,
light through the trees filtered in hazy bands.  Thomas was nearby, his
face in bluish shadow.  She wasn’t asleep or awake, but simply floating,
her body numbed and peaceful. 

‘Away…
’ her mind
whispered, remembering, for a moment, a single bird wheeling in the sky. 

There was a river
in the distance which headed to the ocean.  A scattering of rugged coastal
trees clung to the shores, their yellow leaves ragged and torn after last
night’s storm.  Somehow, Ava knew that from above, the river looked like a
blue snake winding through a scattering of gold coins.  She could trace
the shape of it with her hand, she knew it so well.  Could have painted it
if she’d wanted. 

‘I have painted
it before,
’
she thought.

It was peaceful
here.  Trees bowed and swayed in the wind, all sound gone, replaced by
heavy silence.  She could imagine the hiss of them rushing together, like
the sound of rain on water, or perhaps something else. 
‘I remember a
sound...
’ she thought,
‘but it was in darkness then... and there were
children’s voices too...
’  She couldn’t place the memory, but it
seemed important.  She wished she could remember.

‘Away… away…’

The silence was
comforting at the end of the journey.  She was
almost
happy. 
Almost, because Thomas was sitting beside her, grief-stricken, but she knew she
couldn’t stay with him.  It was time to go.

His face
contracted in grief, and with that, all of her being shifted under the waxing
glow of morning sun.  The person she was ceased to be. 
Ava was
free
. In the golden field, she lifted up and away, her vision expanding
outward, sound returned.  Below her was the shape of the snake and the
coins. 

‘
Away… away…
away...’
 

She heard Thomas
sobbing and for a long second, Ava hovered nearby, the wind on his cheek a
final kiss goodbye.  She faded, the vibrations of life like ripples on a
pond spreading away, then stilling once more. 

Her last
conscious thought was of him... this moment of time mingling with her soul,
leaving an indelible imprint.

‘Love you.’

And then she was
gone.

Cole woke to the
quiet sounds of ...
something
.

He blinked as he
struggled to get his bearings.  He knew he was in the guest suite at his
father’s house, the windows on the side and near the door lending light to the
room.  Ava’s body was warm next to him.  It was still early, not
quite morning, the darkness only starting to bruise to blue and green at the
edges.

He heard it
again.  Rolling onto his side, Cole saw that Ava was no longer
sleeping.  She was turned toward the far side of the bed, curled up in a
ball.  She had a handful of sheets pressed to her mouth as she tried to
muffle her sobs. 

The sound was
her
. 

“Ava...?” Cole
murmured.  He turned her to face him as he pulled her against his
chest.  “Ava, baby?  What’s wrong?”

It was almost
dawn and a pale watery light was leaching in the edges of the windows. 
Ava turned in the circle of his arms, wrapping around him, her breathing rapid
as she held on.

“Ava, you’re
scaring me,” Cole said, his arms tightening around her.  “What’s going
on?”

“I... I had a
dream,” she answered, a ragged laugh verging on tears, coming from her throat,
“the strangest dream...  And… and I died and left you behind and...”

Her face pressed
against his neck.  In Cole’s chest, guilt rose like floodwaters.  (He
wondered how much of last night’s events had been playing out in her
mind.)  It worried him, the emotions she brought out in him: the violence
and passion they invoked when together.  Last night had been the perfect
example of that. 

He tightened his
grip against her back as fears wove through his mind.  The possibility of
losing her was a dull ache.  It disturbed him that she’d have a dream
about this... it seemed like a sign of something else to come.

“Hey now, it’s okay,”
he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple.  “I’m not going anywhere,
Ava... I promise.  But...”  He paused, not sure how to say it. 
“How about you?  You staying?”

He meant it as a
joke, but there was more than lightness in his words.  Cole loved her, but
he sensed that things were still off-kilter between them.  Ava laughed
nervously at his question, snuggling closer so that her head was tucked under
his chin, her words softened by the nearness of his skin.

“I’m not going
anywhere
now
,” she said harshly, “but in the dream, I didn’t have a
choice.”  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was dying, Cole. 
I
couldn’t stay with you...”

He took a sharp
breath, lifting his head to see her.  Her words upset him.  He
stroked her cheek gently, waiting until her eyes rose before continuing.

“You... were
what?”

She opened her
mouth twice, seemingly ready to tell him something, but then changed her
mind.  He waited, watching her in the growing light of the bedroom. 
She took a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing away a wayward tear. 

“Ava… Ava, just
listen,” Cole whispered, leaning closer.  “It’s gonna be okay... it was
just a dream.  All right?  Didn’t mean anything.”

He wished he
believed it.

She took another
teary breath, her eyes closed.  Shifting, Ava lay her face against his
chest, listening to his heart, her body shaking as tears tumbled over the edge
of her lashes.

“Shh...” he
whispered, “It’s okay.  It was just... it was just the shit that happened
last night, right?  And I’m sorry about that.  I love you,
okay?  It’s gonna be all right.  I promise.”

“I don’t know,
Cole,” she whispered brokenly. “This dream felt
real... 
Like a
warning.”

“No,” he
repeated, though his voice shook.  Her words left some dark part of him
unsettled.  “It’s not a warning or anything.  It’s because of what
happened yesterday,” he assured her.  “I messed up… I know.  There
was all the crap with my dad.  And it just... it just came out this
way.” 

He pressed a
kiss to the top of her hair, listening to her sob-hitched breaths.  He
wanted to wrap around her, protect her from all of this, but he didn’t know how
when
he was the one
causing the pain. 

“Maybe,” she
whispered. 

Cole trailed his
hands up and down her back, tracing over her spine and across her shoulders. 
He remembered his mother doing this for him when he was young and scared, in
the moments after a nightmare.  It was one of his good memories; Angela
sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back gently.  It surprised him
to have it appear now.

In his arms,
Ava’s breathing evened out and slowed, her body relaxing against his. 
Cole’s heart ached with the newness of this…
of messing up and
still
having her with him.
  He didn’t know how to handle that reality. 
It terrified him that he’d disrupt the balance somehow..