by Ella Hansing
dangled her necklace lower – the stones glinting fetchingly in the last of the sun.
“Ishtah –” she breathed, words running over one another amid her haste. “That necklace is not so much a gift as it is his promise –”
“Not a promise,” I interrupted, “An early apology for leaving you soon.”
In an instant her face became clouded.
“You think you are better than me – you cannot hide this from your mother, but you are no better than the bird that feasts on the lion’s kill.”
No longer sympathetic, I allowed the necklace to slip lower.
“Did I ever once ask you to stay the night with a guest? Did I ever dip your hands in perfume or braid your hair? Never – though money enough could have been made. All I asked was that you would not scorn me, but even this has proved too much for you my thankless daughter.” Rising shakily she released the blanket she clutched and let it fall to the ground – leaving the expanse of her belly exposed in the diminishing sun.
For a brief moment my head stopped spinning. She was much larger than I at first imagined her to be – her belly bulging outward, like a ripe melon in a field, a small being developing rapidly inside her. I could feel my stomach begin turn as I stared, unable to look away.
“You think you are the one who has carried me, but I’m the one who has carried both of us.” Still clutching the rock in hand, she began to nod her head in assurance. “For every virtuous drop you’ve sweat I’ve bled the same. For you – daughter I conceived, I’ve done everything – would do anything and will. Even this –”
I had no way of guessing her intent with the rock. Assuming she planned on keeping the baby in hopes of trapping her lover, I was stunned to see how far my words had unraveled this part of her delusion at least. If silphium failed to terminate a pregnancy, a blunt object would more than suffice. Extending the rock, her face became dead – her gaze holding mine steady as she struck, without warning, the bulge in her abdomen.
At once my skin began to crawl, as if a thousand ants marched up my legs – my head swimming as if I’d just plunged headlong into the water. In disbelief I saw no pain on her face – though blood began to drip generously across the dirt, drawn instantly to the surface of her wound. She showed no sign of having felt the blow, instead walking toward me seeming revived. I could feel my resolve crumble as she entered my space, realizing it was not herself that she’d struck – rather the detached thing living on her body.
I had little time left to decide what should be done, my strength further dissolving with each breath I took. Instead of blocking her from me, I reached to hold back the stone she held. Without reason I wanted the child to live, my nails biting deep into her wrist. Seeing she felt this neither, I watched her move like a snake among reeds to grasp the necklace. Only in clutching it did her face come alive once more – color shooting up her neck and into her swollen cheeks.
“Let go,” she ordered, hot breath pouring down my face.
Yanking the jewelry, I refused.
Twisting the stone free she extended it, once more striking her stomach – with greater venom this time – her eyes becoming level with mine as she stooped in faintness.
“Give me the necklace –” she repeated. Her words seemed dripped from the corners of her mouth – much like the blood running down her waist, down her thick, pale legs – choking in and out as if she were drowning on the inside.
“Stop –” I wept, my resolve now wholly crumbled. I began to shake now, for she leaned forward on me for support – pushing me down the bank into the water. Though I had stared at the pool over the years for countless hours, never once had I entered it before – still scared perhaps since childhood, like the others, that there truly was an evil spirit beneath the surface. I fought to regain footing on dry ground as the hem of my skirt grazed the stagnant water – her weight fast becoming unmanageable, her eyes rolling back in her head further than was natural and mouth gaping oddly open, as if she slept.
A second longer – a time which I felt lasted the span of an entire life – and she released the necklace back into my possession – her fingers opening rigidly and body dipping abruptly forward, leaving me barely enough time to duck from under her fall. The splash her body made shattered the slowness of time – the slowness of our struggle on the bank. Water doused my face, running down my neck and chest, awakening my senses fully. Without pause I threw myself onto dry ground, scooting blindly higher until my back was against the stone wall of Arrapha, fingers burrowing wildly into the soil beneath me in attempts to stop my surroundings from spinning. Fearful of what I would see, I covered my eyes tight with both hands, fighting to get air through shuddering sobs.
At last the mad ringing in my ears stopped, leaving nothing behind in its place. With even the wind dying low, the silence beyond the city engulfed my quaking form, soon magnifying itself over my sobs. At last the terrain worked to pacify me, in the same manner as when I was young – spreading thickly, muffling my cries until at long I began to breathe evenly. Cracking my eyelids first, the golden light of dusk leaking between my fingers gradually drew me further out. Stationing my gaze safely afar, I dropped both hands simultaneously – the rugged peeks and hills in the distance at once taking familiar shape. Only in beholding the quiet dark landscape I’d come to know so well over the years, did I know I was ready to face the pool – my neck the only thing able to turn as my body had grown stiff with exhaustion. Allowing my eyes to drift lower, I surmised the scene below.
She had landed face down in the water – her arms and legs spread wide, her thick black hair and skirt, now soaked, nearly dragging her beneath the surface with weight. I knew without checking that her life was ended. In that moment I felt nothing – other than to wish her body to be gone, like the cow never reemerged from its bath so long ago. She remained suspended on the surface, though, drifting lifeless to the bank for me to transfix on.
“Ishtah!”
With throbbing pain I bent my head backward at the sound of my name, glancing sideways up the city wall. Though it had grown rapidly dark, I could just make out the shape of someone looking down at me from overhead – a faint spattering of stars now appearing across the sky, casting a pale light over the terrain. At first thinking it might be Hesba, I swallowed fearfully to call up and reassure her. Most likely she had seen me heading toward the east gate from her window, though I thought it odd she should be home during the festival. Turning more fully I was able to focus my gaze, quickly seeing that it wasn’t her. It was Aeros – his face seeming disturbed as he leaned out from the wall – or was he concerned? I could barely make him out.
“Will you wait – I’m coming down!” he called.
In an instant familiar shame crowded my mind. Looking to where my mother drifted, I fought valiantly to withhold from crying. Realizing I would need to try and stall him, I glanced bravely up and cleared my throat to answer. It was then, in the hollow light from the sky, that my eyes spied what was tied round his wrist – the thin leather cord and wooden bird he’d fashioned for me. He hadn’t cast it off in anger like I would have thought. Instead, he wore it tied safely to him. Eyes beginning to tear anew, I dropped my head – scarce able to speak.
“Yes,” I managed to call at last.
As he turned to come down the other side of the wall, I moved to lift myself from the ground. Drawing back my mother’s necklace, still held tightly in my clasp, I mustered what strength I had left to cast it to the center of the pool – where there I watched it sink.
҉
Aeros said nothing in joining me outside the city – neither questioning nor commenting on what he saw, so that I had no way of telling how much he’d witnessed from his perch before calling down to me. Gone were any traces of polite hesitancy in his movement or manner, though, indicating that something had changed. Taking my hand decisively in his – his touch warm and immediately enveloping, he turned to lead me back by the way he’d come, pausing only to help me over or around any b
oulders in our path.
Once inside Arrapha, the wild singing and riotous shouting of the festival became at once deafening – the blinding torchlight, now painting the streets like gold, casting long shadows behind our walk. The sights, sounds, and smells of celebration were brief in passing, though, as Aeros led me straight to his house – standing empty and quiet at the corner of the road since the family had gone out to join the festivities. Wordless, Aeros ventured to the front doors – pushing them open wide with his free hand, standing to the side to usher me in.
I’d never entered his home through the front before, having always taken the servants’ entrance through the side alley. Sensing my hesitation, he glanced worriedly after my gaze. Turning, my eyes drifted in the direction of my mother’s house – a ways down a narrower, now vacant path that led crookedly to our door. Breathing slowly out, I allowed my shoulders to drop – turning back with softened face, I stepped past Aeros across the threshold – yielding at last to what I knew must surely be happiness.
I never ended up knowing whether or not my mother’s lover arrived that night to take her to the festival – to walk her out beside him for all Arrapha to see. If he did visit our door, he would have found it unlocked –
