By These Ten Bones

by Clare B. Dunkle

  “Feeling better?” she wanted to know when she saw that the girl was awake. “Your ma’s helping thread the loom. I’ll call her if you want.”

  “I’m not so bad off,” Maddie answered. “My throat’s a little sore, that’s all.”

  “They said you were raving like Angus.”

  “I wasn’t,” sighed the girl. “They just didn’t understand.”

  Old Peggy put down the sock and studied her. “I’m not surprised you have the sight of both worlds,” she remarked. “Your grandmother had it, too. She couldn’t always tell us what she meant, either. It’s a hard gift sometimes.”

  “Is that what I have, the Second Sight?” wondered Maddie. “I never used to see strange things before.”

  The old woman shrugged. “Maybe there wasn’t much to see. But strange things are happening these days even in our world of flesh. What things are you seeing in the other world?”

  Maddie rolled over and propped her head on her hand. “Whenever I go by Black Ewan’s cairn, I see fresh blood on the stones,” she whispered, “trickles of blood running down the stones and disappearing back into the earth.”

  “Eh, now, that’s not surprising,” said Old Peggy, nodding gravely. “Black Ewan’s not at peace yet, not with the way he died. His blood still runs where it was spilled because it wants justice done on the killer.”

  “Why do I have to see it?” demanded Maddie. “I’m not the killer.” But, she reflected unhappily, she did know who the killer was.

  “I’d say you see it because you’re supposed to do something about it,” said Old Peggy. “That’s the way these things work.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” asked the girl. “I’m not some big strong warrior like Finn and his Fianna. I can’t fight a monster by myself.”

  “A warrior’s strength isn’t always the kind that matters,” replied Old Peggy. “This is a fight against the shadow world, against the creatures of darkness. If I were you, I’d pray. It’s God Who puts the evil creatures in their place, and it’s He Who gave you your gift. Remember this: there’s more than one kind of strength. They do say that a little child’s laugh is strong enough to vanquish all the demons in hell.”

  Maddie tried to pray that day and the next, but her prayers weren’t the best. Perhaps that was because she couldn’t go to church. Her mother kept the ailing girl inside by the fire. Or perhaps that was because her prayers were so angry. They didn’t sound much like prayers. Why do I have to have this gift? she asked God. Why did You have to let Paul be bitten? Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with Gillies or Thomas? Why didn’t Black Ewan leave Ned alone?

  As the next few days passed, she felt better and prayed her angry prayers less often. Paul didn’t return, and she saw no more strange sights. The town settled back into a routine. Maybe everything was over now, with Black Ewan’s death. Maybe Paul was gone for good. He had promised to come back, but he probably hadn’t meant it. He had gone off into the wide world, and she would never see him again. As sad as that thought made her, it gave her comfort, too. She knew they could never really be together.

  But Paul did come back from the wide world after all. He walked into the town as the first snow fell on the brown thatched houses and began to cover up the frozen mud and golden hills. Maddie looked up from her work, and there he stood in the doorway, with the soft white flakes swirling around him.

  Fair Sarah flung her spindle and distaff onto the ground and ran to him with a glad cry.

  “Oh, my dear, dear boy!” she exclaimed, hugging him. “It’s a blessing just to see you.”

  16

  Maddie expected Paul to be uneasy after the murder he’d done, more cautious and bitter than before. Instead, he was relaxed and confident, talking to her parents and playing chess with Father Mac. She, on the other hand, was shy and troubled. It was as if they had changed places.

  The first windblown dusting of snow melted, but another soon took its place. This one lingered through a cold, stormy day, and that night it snowed without stopping. The next morning dawned pale and bright, and there was almost no wind. The entire world seemed to have been hushed by the weight of the fallen snow.

  “Come with me,” said Maddie to Paul, “and I’ll show you something.”

  They wandered out into the silent world. The sky above them was opal and pearl, full of light clouds shadowed with bands of pale blue and purple. The snow reflected the lustrous colors of the sky, and their shadows were a harmless indigo. They crunched along in silence away from the town and the river, following a path that wound into the hills. The path led to a small triangular valley, with a little copse of rowans and birches and a circle of standing stones.

  The pair walked among the thin slabs that reared improbably upright. In that gray-and-lavender world, the wet stones were deeply black. Paul reached up and just touched the top of one.

  “They’re the Nine Maidens,” Maddie told him. “Folks say they were girls who went out dancing on Good Friday, and the devil changed them into stone. I never really believed that before, but I don’t know, now that I’ve met you.”

  Hand in hand, they climbed the nearest snowy hill and sat down to look over the valley, with its spindly, leafless trees and the nine slender black stones in their endless round. The young pair didn’t say much. Maddie watched the carver out of the corner of her eye whenever he wasn’t watching her. She loved him so. He didn’t mean to be a killer. She would keep her promise to Ned.

  She pointed at their tracks up the hillside. “We’ll have to watch out for that next time,” she observed. “If it snows, our trail will give us away.”

  “There isn’t going to be a next time,” said Paul.

  Maddie’s heart filled with dread, and she tightened her grip on his cold hand. He held it tighter in return to steady her.

  “It’s the only way to fix things,” he said. “I need to be gone for good. I’ll do something so your ma won’t know—fall into the river, maybe. Then Father Mac can still bury me in the churchyard.”

  “It’s a terrible evil to kill yourself,” said Maddie. “It can’t be the right thing to do.”

  Paul pulled his hand away, studying the nicks and scars on it from his carving. “But it’s not that I want to,” he protested. “You know I don’t. I have to. The time before last, I woke up and found that you had managed to drive me away from your door. This time I woke up and a man was dead right outside your house. Ned told me a wolf tries hardest to kill the people he loves the best. You say it’s justice, that I came here to kill Black Ewan for Ned. That’s not the truth, and you know it. I came back here to kill you.”

  Maddie stared down at the thin black stones, the slim maidens trapped in their dance. He was right, of course. She couldn’t deny it.

  “That only happened when you were alone,” she countered. “I’ll be there next time. You won’t get loose again.”

  “How long do you think I could keep doing this right under your relatives’ noses?” he asked. “Do you think they wouldn’t find out? That’s why a wolf has to wander. You don’t know what it means to be among strangers, never having a home. And I don’t want you to know what it means. I won’t let you go with me.”

  “Go with someone else, then,” she proposed. “Find those other Travelers. They know the secret.”

  “I don’t want to anymore,” he said. “It’s not worth it to me to live. I’ve almost killed you twice, and I’m ruining your life. You’re getting sick, and you’re seeing horrible things. It’s the worry eating at you; I know because it eats at me. I’m sorry about Black Ewan. I didn’t want to kill him. But, Madeleine, what if it had been you?”

  Maddie couldn’t think of any more arguments. She didn’t know what to say. “It’s not right!” she exclaimed. “It isn’t right that you have to do this.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he said, trying to console her. “I’ve had a happy time with you and your family, and I’ll have this month, too. I won’t ask for any more.” Maddie though
t of all her angry prayers and felt ashamed of herself.

  “I’m glad about it, in a way,” he added quietly. “At least now my dying makes sense. You know I wouldn’t last long anyway. Sooner or later, we wolves always get found out, just like that girl in the story.”

  “But you’ll tell me?” she pleaded. “Before you go away?” He hesitated. “Please,” she whispered, and he gave in.

  “All right. I promise I’ll say good-bye.”

  The days passed with dizzying speed, faster than Maddie believed they could. Paul was carving her father a chess set, the pieces beautiful in their stark simplicity. Every day she counted the finished pieces with a sinking heart. Then it was three days before the full moon, and the pieces were all there.

  They played a celebratory game over lunch, and Father Mac and the weaver praised the beautiful set again and again. Paul glowed with pride. He teased Fair Sarah and traded stories with the men. He had never seemed so happy Maddie said nothing. She couldn’t even smile. She knew her time was up. Leaving the others over their game, she ran to the little church and threw herself onto her knees in front of the battered wooden statue of the Madonna. She looked at the primitive figures of the Blessed Mother and Child. Paul could have carved a much better one if only he had had time.

  “Dear Mother up in heaven, I need help,” she begged. “I really, truly need help. I don’t want Paul to kill himself, and I don’t want my town destroyed, and I don’t want my parents and relatives to suffer, with their bones thrown every which way. I love Paul, and I love my parents. I don’t want to choose between them. I want them all to be happy together, just like they are right now.

  “Please help me, dear Mother of the Shining One. I can’t fix this by myself. Ask your Son what I need to do. He knows a way to make it come right; He unties every knot. I promise I’ll do whatever God wants if He’ll untie this knot for me.”

  All the rest of the day, Maddie prayed and prayed, and that night she had a very odd dream. A silvery dawn was breaking. She jumped up from bed and went outside. Not one of the town’s inhabitants was nearby in the quiet morning, not even a chicken or sheep. No puff of wind stirred the air. The stillness was profound.

  A remarkable stranger stood by Black Ewan’s cairn, handsome and tall. He was dressed in a saffron war shirt and fine mail. A cloak of red and blue squares was wrapped around his shoulders, and his boots were the softest leather. His belt was woven of bright colors, and a dagger and a sword hung at his side. On his arms were decorated armbands, and around his neck, a torque collar, but their gold was no brighter than his shoulder-length hair. He held a long javelin, and over his arm hung his round shield, its surface painted with colorful symbols.

  Maddie hesitated. Should she fetch the others? No, it would be rude to leave such a noble guest without a word. She stepped forward.

  “A blessing upon you,” she said shyly.

  “And upon you,” returned the stranger, still studying the cairn at his feet. “A great battle is coming,” he announced.

  “We have few to fight in it,” Maddie answered, dismayed. “Is the new lord going to war? Where is the fighting?”

  “It will be here,” he answered, and he turned to look at her. His eyes were blue, like deep and very clear water, and their force was like a blow. Maddie took a step away and bowed her head, but she could still feel his eyes upon her.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said.

  “I know who you are,” she faltered, gathering courage to look up again. “You’re one of the Fianna, the hero band who guarded the land in ancient days.”

  “I am one of the band who guards the land in these days,” answered the man. “A great battle is coming to this place. If the young man takes his own life, he will not drive off the spirit within him. He will only leave his corpse behind for that creature to use in its work.”

  “Paul!” gasped Maddie. “I saw his shadow walking around on its own.”

  “And so it will walk on its own, with no one to stop it. The people will be hunted one by one until this town becomes a barren place, a place of the dead and the worse-than-dead. You have seen what will happen here, the evil that is coming. You can still escape.”

  “I don’t want to run and leave my loved ones behind,” she said. “Isn’t there some other way?”

  “There is,” affirmed the stranger. “Paul can be saved, and so can your town and family, if you truly want that to happen.”

  “I’ll do anything!” she exclaimed eagerly. “Anything you tell me.” The stranger looked at her with those eyes like the sea, and Maddie understood. “It’s Ned’s cure, isn’t it?” she whispered, bowing her head. “He was right after all.”

  “He told you what to do,” the warrior agreed. “You are the one who can stop this. Then Paul and your family will be happy, just as they were today.”

  “I wanted to be happy, too,” Maddie said sadly. “I forgot to pray for that, didn’t I?”

  “God knows what you want,” admonished the stranger. “God, Who unties every knot.” A faint smile crossed that noble face, as if the words pleased him. “This is a task you must do willingly. This battle is yours to fight.”

  Maddie looked around at the houses of her town, quiet in that silvery morning. She thought of her relatives who lay inside them. “They won’t even know where I’ve gone,” she whispered.

  “It is best that they never know,” replied the man. “Such creatures as that one would become should not be named aloud.”

  “But they won’t understand,” said Maddie, beginning to cry. “My parents won’t know why I left them.”

  The warrior watched her cry for a moment. “Be at peace about this,” he said. “In every time, in every land, there are champions of good. Their lives seem small and insignificant, but we remember them, and we rejoice over them. The hosts without number sing their deeds before the Eternal Throne.”

  Maddie dried her eyes and looked at him in awe. “You are one of the angels of God,” she whispered.

  “I am the captain of the battle-hosts,” he replied. “My name is my war cry. If you fight, you will seem to fight alone, but I will fight with you. I have waited long ages to see this creature brought down to ruin.”

  Maddie looked again at the silent houses and thought of those she loved, peaceful and happy, with no thought of the terror that was coming. She thought of Paul, giving up his life willingly for her sake. She looked down at Black Ewan’s cairn. He had died in this battle, too.

  “I will fight,” she told him. And then she opened her eyes. She was next to her mother in the box bed, and moonlight poured through the open door. The wind was sighing, and one of the chickens murmured in its sleep.

  Maddie climbed out of bed and wandered outside, wide awake and solemn. She went to Black Ewan’s cairn. No one stood there in the chilly night, but she didn’t feel alone. Beside the rocks grew a small patch of clover, the symbol of the Trinity. She bent and picked a sprig.

  “This fight won’t last long, Black Ewan,” she murmured resignedly to the cairn. “You know that even better than I do. But we have to protect those we love, don’t we? That’s what you did.”

  Maddie tucked the clover sprig into a fold of her sleeve and tied it into place with a thread. Warriors went into battle wearing the symbol of their lord. She would do the same.

  17

  That morning, Paul went with Maddie to Mass and watched soberly as she prayed. “Madeleine,” he said afterward, “I told your ma and dad that I’m going to sell carvings to the new lord. I won’t see you again.”

  It’s time, thought Maddie with a shiver. Time to keep my promise.

  “Paul,” she said slowly, “I know how you can be cured.”

  The young carver stared at her in astonishment. “Don’t,” he demanded, upset.

  “No, it’s true,” she replied. “I learned how from Ned. There’s a creature living with you that makes you change, and I know how to drive it away.”

  Paul looked around, the mask of
caution and worry back on his face. “That can’t be true,” he stated. “You’d have told me by now, and you’d be happier about it. There’s no cure for what I am.”

  “I couldn’t tell you before,” she said in a low voice. “It’s—it’s hard to do, that’s all. But not hard for you. All you do is change one more time.”

  “What do you do that’s hard?” he asked. “I want to know about it.”

  “I can’t tell you,” said Maddie. “It has to be a secret.”

  The young man had been calm and composed, ready to die. Now all his plans were for nothing. “I don’t want to change again,” he protested angrily. “I want to be done with this.”

  “You will be,” she promised. “You’ll be cured, you really will. Just one more time, Paul. Please.”

  He frowned at her, unhappy and uneasy. “All right,” he muttered. “But this is the last time. And it’s not how I want it.”

  Maddie gave him a little smile. “You’ll see,” she said. “It’s better than your way. I’ll meet you tomorrow by the rotten stump.” She watched as he walked out of town.

  Kneeling on the stone step of the confessional next morning, Maddie tried to collect her thoughts. Be prepared for death, Father Mac had told her, and she had intended to. She wanted to make a really good confession of her sins so that her mind could be at peace as she died, but her mind was wandering dreadfully, and she couldn’t remember what she had planned to say. There had been the time when her mother had been tired and she hadn’t carried the baskets for her. How she regretted that now! And the time when her father had been discouraged and she hadn’t bothered to smile at him. If only she could go back and do it! If only it weren’t too late.

  Maddie ranged sadly over these odd little omissions and faults of long ago, and on the other side of the curtain, Father Mac’s astonishment grew. He had never heard such a confession from her before. At length she ran out of regretful memories, and he gave her absolution. She rose, about to go say her penance, but then she turned back to the priest. Second Sight or no Second Sight, she shouldn’t trust a dream. It would be better to make sure.