by Joni Sensel
“That’s all right.” He opened his bloody hand to drop the shards of his glass. No fire remained. “The moon will lead you, if you listen.”
The tinkling of the glass as it fell hurt her ears. Ariel clapped her hands to them.
The jolt knocked her awake. The shadows of boughs overhung her, as they so often did, and the newborn Dog Moon could offer no light, but Ariel knew where she was. The wooden platform was hard through the hare’s ear. Its solid reality brought her relief. Scarl’s dark figure was stretched out not far away, his blanket rumpled alongside him and his slow breathing nearly as familiar as her own.
With her nightmare still glittering behind her eyes, she raised her fingers to the glass in her necklace. Finding the cool droplet of her largest green bead, her fingers fanned to encompass the rest.
No other lumps met her fingers. Instead she felt only her warm neck and the string holding the bead.
Her hand patted… slid… clutched at her throat. Only the one bead, the original, remained on her necklace. She sat up with a jerk and then whimpered, afraid the motion might have scattered beads that had somehow come loose. Was that the clatter of them bouncing away, or just the rustle of her bedding? Ariel’s free hand swept through the hare’s ear, rattling more, before a small fact pierced her growing panic: the bead she still possessed hung from a ribbon, not the satin cord Scarl had given her. Moreover, her necklace had not come untied. She could feel the knot’s pressure against the back of her neck as she tugged on the bead from the front.
“What?”
Ariel jumped. Scarl’s shadow hunkered beside her. She saw a wink of starlight off his knife blade.
He added, “Somethin’ crawl on you? Bite?” Though his voice was heavy with sleep, he grabbed her arm, preparing to yank her to safety if necessary, and his grip felt plenty alert. “Sounded like you were thrashing.”
Ariel moaned. “No.”
His hold on her relaxed. “Nightmare?” She’d told him about the unsettling dreams in which she’d slipped so surely back to her old life in Canberra Docks, the past bright and sharp around her until she stumbled or turned a corner to find herself instead in the abbey.
She fumbled for the right answer. “No, my necklace is gone!”
“It came untied?” He put away his knife and patted the reeds around them. “I’m not usually so feeble with knots. But we’ll find it in the—”
“No, look!” She grabbed his hand and pulled it to the single bead still around her neck.
His fingers found it, alone. Both his hands rose then, following the ribbon to meet behind her neck, then back down. His head cocked.
“How’d you manage that?”
“I don’t know. Am I still dreaming?”
“Not unless I’m sharing your nightmare. Maybe Zeke was right and you are moving about in your sleep.”
“You would have heard me sooner. I can hardly roll over without waking you.”
“We could have used your glowworms tonight. Just a minute.” He turned and rummaged in his pack. A spark caught his tinder and, from there, a small candle. Ariel’s hands rose to dash at her eyes before he lit her tears.
Scarl turned with the light and grunted. “Now, my fingers are not so dull as that!”
At his expression, Ariel clapped one hand back to her necklace—her new one, intact, every bead in its place. A sound that was half sob and half laugh burst from her. Scarl lifted the candle so close to her chin that her bangs wafted in its heat. He touched the necklace again, too, and scowled at her.
Anticipating him, she protested, “It wasn’t me! You felt it, too. It was just the one bead!”
“How’d you switch it so fast?”
“I didn’t. It changed. Like a shadow chased away by your light.”
He studied her face.
“I don’t know how,” she added, “but it did.” She pressed the beads to her skin as if to embed them. “I’m just glad my new one is back.”
He blew out the candle. In the fresh dark, they both felt her necklace, fingers tangling along the beads. There was no mistaking them.
“Well…,” Scarl said at last. It sounded as though he meant to keep speaking, but he simply set the candle aside. “Best try to sleep again, I suppose.”
Neither of them really succeeded.
CHAPTER 15
Dog Moon, Slender Crescent
Ariel’s only disappointment with her hair clips was that Nace didn’t see her wearing them. Affixed to thin folds of metal, they slid snugly into her hair, their luster as perfect as Sienna had promised. They coordinated well with her necklace, which had ceased any tricks. Yet only a few early risers had a chance to admire them, since Ariel led her companions away from Skunk just after dawn. The horse had been hitched at the base of the platform, bridled and waiting, and her heart tripped when she saw him. But Nace did not appear in the small crowd that came to see the visitors off.
Sienna’s family made up most of the well-wishers. Though her mother cried, Sienna never wavered. She’d carefully followed Ariel’s packing instructions, and Willow flattened his ears at the unusually large load that was lashed to his back. Once the Flame-Mage’s tools were secure, Scarl took up his walking stick and the travelers marched away to a chorus of goodwill and good-bye.
Once they’d passed beyond the network of trails around Skunk, Ariel paused to adjust their course into the wilds. She let both hands flit to her head, fingering the newly shaped glass there as she felt for the call of her feet.
“Confused already?” Sienna asked. “You’re not going to get us lost, are you?”
“Hush, Sienna,” Scarl said. “That isn’t confusion.”
Sienna walked silently next to Ariel for a long time after that. Ariel stayed quiet as well, wishing she’d had a final look into Nace’s eyes. Soon, though, she felt a burst of relief at moving southeast again, and her natural cheer surfaced.
She asked Sienna about local flowers and birds as they passed. The Flame-Mage’s replies were all short and subdued. Finally Ariel tucked an arm through Sienna’s.
“Why won’t you talk?” she asked. “This was supposed to be fun.”
“I don’t want to make Scarl mad again,” Sienna murmured.
Ariel laughed. “You haven’t seen him mad, believe me. If he gets sick of hearing us, he’ll just drop back out of earshot. He does it with my friend Zeke and me all the time.”
Sienna asked about Zeke, so Ariel told her how he heard stones, just as Tree-Singers heard trees, and how he ran across meadows with the abbey’s herd of goats, and how he’d hurt his hands helping to save her from a fall. The conversation flowed more freely from there. The older girl enjoyed showing off her knowledge of things that would burn. She told funny tales about people in Skunk, and she listened appreciatively when Ariel sang her Farwalker’s song. Ariel made up a verse for Sienna:
Walk toward the morning sun,
Guiding Sienna.
New friends make travel fun:
Walk, talk, and laugh.
By the end of the day, Scarl indeed lagged with the horse, keeping the girls just in sight, but Ariel felt as though she’d known Sienna for weeks. When they passed a boulder, they kicked it together to send Zeke a joint greeting.
Later, while the two waited at a likely camping spot for Scarl to catch up, Sienna said, “I think you’re pretty, so don’t take this wrong, but how’d you get that scar on your cheek?”
Ariel sobered at the memory of the standoff that might have ended her life, if Scarl had not proven to be more than he’d seemed.
“Somebody cut me,” Ariel told her.
“On purpose? With a knife?”
Ariel nodded. “I’ve got one on my arm, too.” She pushed up her sleeve to show it.
Briefly speechless, Sienna finally huffed, “I’d like to smack whoever did it, if I ever meet ’em.”
While Ariel appreciated Sienna’s indignation, she could imagine what Elbert Finder might have done to a young woman who slapped him.
>
“You can’t,” she said quietly. “Scarl killed him.”
Sienna’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Ariel nodded.
“He must really love you,” the older girl murmured. “Tell me the story?”
Looking away, Ariel shook her head. She didn’t like to relive those days—especially not this close to bedtime.
“I understand.” Sienna turned and studied Scarl as he approached through the trees.
“Don’t be afraid of him, though,” Ariel said. The Flame-Mage didn’t answer.
When he reached them, Ariel took a close look at Scarl’s face. The sun wasn’t very low yet, but she could tell by the sheen in his eyes that he’d limped enough for one day. His bad foot often forced him to rely on Willow late in the day, but when the horse already bore a heavy load, Scarl became reluctant to add to the burden by riding. He bristled when nagged, though, so Ariel had become skilled at reading his eyes and his gait when deciding whether to push on or stop.
“I thought this might be far enough for Sienna’s first day,” she told him.
“I could go a little farther, if you want,” Sienna said.
Ariel shot her an annoyed look, but Scarl agreed with Ariel’s choice of a campsite.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to move much that evening. True to her word, Sienna took charge, creating a cheerful fire and a dinner of fried eel. She grew a bit bossy, Ariel thought, but the results were impressive.
“A lot better than Scarl’s cooking.” Ariel giggled and slurped her last bite.
“I should hope so,” Sienna replied.
“I’ll remember that, Farwalker,” he said. “But I have to agree.”
Finally Sienna, too, could rest near the fire. She pulled her hair loose to brush it. Ariel envied those flaming red locks, which glowed radiantly in the firelight.
“You’re so pretty, I bet lots of men will want to marry you,” she told Sienna. “Wherever we get to. Don’t you think, Scarl?”
“Likely,” he agreed.
“You really think so?” Sienna directed her question straight to Scarl. Ariel felt a twinge of exclusion.
He nodded, shifting his eyes from Sienna to the fire.
“Will I want to marry them? That’s the question,” she mused. They watched the flames flicker. Ariel yawned, but it was not even dark and too early for sleep.
“How ’bout a story, Scarl?” she asked. “You haven’t told me the story of the ebony bead yet.”
“You keep asking for it at night,” he replied. “It’s not good for bedtime.”
“Is it scary?” Sienna asked.
He shrugged. “It’s just… grim.”
“Why did you give me a bead with a grim story?” Ariel asked.
He took her more seriously than she’d intended. “That’s well wondered. Hmm. Partly because I wanted a dark one alongside the sea pearl, but… only partly.”
“Tell it,” Ariel pleaded. “Sienna will let me snuggle against her if it’s too awful. Won’t you?”
“Of course.” Sienna smiled. To Scarl, she added, “I’m really curious now. Please?”
Scarl gave in. He settled more comfortably on the ground and said, “In a place far away, when the world was young—”
“Don’t you say ‘Once upon a time’ to start a story?” Sienna asked.
Scarl just looked at her.
“Don’t interrupt him,” Ariel murmured. “He’s practically a Storian.”
“Sorry,” Sienna said. “I thought they all started that way.”
With a slight emphasis, Scarl said, “In a place far away, when the world was young, the bridge between life and death did not stretch nearly so long as it does now, and things living and dead sometimes crossed to the side where they didn’t belong.”
Ariel shivered. Perhaps he’d been right about not telling this story at night.
“After a long month of trouble,” Scarl said, “the people of the village nearest the bridge decided to post a guard to keep the dead from coming across. But nobody wanted the task. After much argument, a young Reaper agreed to stand watch if someone else would take his place in a fortnight. Two guards, he said, could trade back and forth so neither spent all of his time in the shadows.”
“Sounds fair to me,” Ariel said. Sienna shot her a glance, but Ariel knew the difference between interrupting and participating.
Scarl nodded. “It was fair, but nobody else volunteered. Finally a very old woman, a Healtouch, grumbled, ‘Shame on you all. But I will relieve the first guard in two weeks.’
“So the Reaper took up his post, turning back all manner of spirits and haunts, and he slowly lost his fear of the dead. Still, he greatly looked forward to the end of his fortnight. Unfortunately, the old woman died the day before his turn would be up. As she went to leave the world by the bridge, the young man saw her coming.
“‘You’re early,’ he told her.
“‘No,’ she replied. ‘Someone else will relieve you. Let me pass.’
“But, too eager to leave, the Reaper didn’t recognize that she was no longer living. She could have just waited and then gone on her way once he left, but even in death the old Healtouch worried about leaving the bridge wholly unguarded. So she struggled with him and toppled them both off the bridge.”
“To what?” Ariel asked. “What’s between life and death?”
“Flame,” whispered Sienna.
To Ariel’s surprise, Scarl agreed. “Flame.”
They all gazed at their fire. It reached and chortled and grinned.
“Love and hate,” Scarl continued. “Or love and evil, some say—”
“Some say the flame is the Essence,” Sienna protested meekly.
“Some do,” Scarl said.
“Oh! The sparks in the sea, in snow, in your glass”—Ariel grabbed the largest bead in her necklace—“in my Storian’s bead once? That Essence?”
“Yes. In the sea, in the sky, in your heart, in your eyes—all are flecks of the same fire, consuming as it creates.”
Ariel gazed upward into the dark and wondered if the hiss of the moon might be the sizzle of the Essence burning within it. She’d not heard it for a couple of days, not since its one cryptic whisper in Skunk. She must have gotten whatever it thought she needed to gather.
“Anyway,” Scarl went on, “when the young man and the old woman fell, the flame rose and swallowed the bridge. Time stopped, because no one could leave the world without crossing the bridge. And none could be born, either, because the unborn must cross the same bridge. The sun and moon froze in place. When the flame finally receded, a hole had been burned not just in the bridge but between life and death. A hole right through time.”
“A hole.” Ariel hugged herself and shimmied closer to the fire. Lamala had described her map as a hole and talked about death and new beginnings, too. When Scarl met her gaze, his eyes told her he was mindful of the Judge’s words, too.
As Sienna’s mouth opened with questions, Scarl quickly went on with the story. “The villagers tried to repair the hole, but it couldn’t be fixed. Anything near it fell in and was lost. Flames boiled up through the breach, and demons sometimes rode on those flames. Of course, with demons afoot, no one else would stand guard. Instead, they put clever barriers on their end of the bridge, hoping to keep the dead and the demons where they belonged.
“Today that bridge is too daunting for most souls to cross more than twice, first to enter the world and later to leave. Ghosts rarely return to haunt the living these days.” He glanced at Ariel, who’d once befriended one. “A few, but not many. Demons, who tend to be lazy, don’t relish the trip. And very few of the living try to cross and return. If they’re not afraid of demons, they’re afraid of the hole. Those who claim to have ventured partway always mention a light—the glare of flame through that hole.
“And this story belongs to your black bead, Ariel, because ebony is the only wood that won’t burn.” He glanced at the Flame-Mage to see if she cared to dis
pute it. She didn’t. “And they say ebony wood forms the bridge. That’s why it looks blackened and scorched. It has one end in life and one end in death, and it has already been through the flame.”
The fire crackled.
“Well,” said Sienna at last, “I bet no Flame-Mage tried fixing that hole.”
Scarl chuckled. “Perhaps not. But you’d have to find the bridge first. Not easy to do.”
“You can find it for me,” she quipped. “Then I’ll fix it.”
The reflective look on his face stirred unease in Ariel’s heart. “Have you sought it, Scarl?” she asked softly.
“It’s a story,” Sienna said. “I was joking.”
Scarl stared into the coals. “I thought about it for a while.” His eyes flicked to Ariel and his lips twitched in a humorless smile. “That’s one thing I believe I could find, if I tried. But I don’t think it’s meant for the living to find.”
At her worried expression, he smiled again, this time with warmth. “Besides, you’re still young to be farwalking all by yourself.”
“You’d better never find it and cross it without me, at least,” she said, shaken. “You promised to stay by my side.”
“As you choose,” he confirmed.
Sienna squirmed, clearly feeling left out. “I liked that story. It wasn’t so grim.”
Neither Ariel nor Scarl argued. But Ariel gave Scarl a weak smile to apologize for Sienna’s words, if not her presence.
He shrugged one shoulder.
Watching their silent communion, Sienna drooped. “I think I’ll lie down,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll try to rise first to wake up the fire.”
“No need,” Scarl told her. “We ate well tonight. Let’s make some distance tomorrow.”
With a twinge of sympathy for Sienna, Ariel rolled into her blanket alongside her and reached to pat her arm.
“You might hear strange animals in the night,” she whispered. “Don’t be scared.”
“If you aren’t, I won’t be,” Sienna replied. “Snuggle up if you have nightmares.”
“I will.”
