Ephemeral and Fleeting

by Patricia Reding

  She chuckled, then turned serious. “Yes, I’d ordered gravel to be thrown on them the other day. It seems we’ll have to put someone in charge of keeping them maintained, going forward.”

  “I’ll have someone see to them right away.” He stood. “Well, I guess I’d best be on my way.” He hesitated. Then, “It was really, really nice to see you, Lucy,” he said.

  She nodded and then, as he set off, glanced across the grounds once more. She hadn’t expected that. She’d certainly been aware of Percival’s interest those many years ago. But having committed himself to Filip, she’d made certain he knew the boundaries. She frowned as she recalled that she’d actually found it necessary to remind him of his duty. Then she thought about the past weeks. Was it he whom she’d seen that day when she’d been training with the twins? It certainly was possible. Funny how she’d never noticed the likeness between Percival and Petrus in the past.

  Sighing, she grasped the edge of the bench, preparing to rise.

  “Hello, Lucy.”

  She looked up. All the color drained from her face. “Uhhh, I . . . Ahhh . . .” She stuttered, searching for words.

  “It has been a long time,” the newcomer said.

  “Ahhh, yes, it— It has been a . . . a very long time.” She smiled, then bit her lip. “Wha— Ahhh . . . What are you doing here, Petrus?”

  With the snow now falling in earnest, Lucy brushed flakes off from the bench at her side and then patted it. “Have a seat,” she said. “Tell me—what’s been happening with you?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over closely. “Still looking youthful, I see,” she added, smiling. “So then your charge—Tam—he still lives?”

  “Ahhh, no.”

  “I’m sorry.” She looked down. “I understand the loss, which it seems by the looks of you, must have been a recent one. Yes? Unless of course, you were committed to another of the Select since I last saw you.”

  “Ahhh . . . It was a recent loss, yes.” He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

  She looked him over carefully. “Truly, Petrus, you were always thin, but you’re looking a bit . . . gaunt,” she said. “Are you eating at all?”

  He shrugged.

  She patted his hand. “I know, it’s hard, but it will get better—a bit, anyway—over time.”

  “So they say.”

  “You know, you’re not going to believe this, but I’ve thought of you several times of late. I even just now visited with someone who, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to you.”

  He raised his brow. “Oh? Who is that?”

  “One of the healers. Percival Ferreolo. He helped me with a sprained knee.” She rubbed it, absentmindedly. “Anyway, over the past weeks, I actually thought I saw you here at sanctuary a couple of times.”

  He pulled back, his brow lowered. “But . . . I only recently arrived.”

  “Yes, it seems it was all a case of mistaken identity then.” She pursed her lips. “So, tell me, where have you been? How have you been? How has life treated you?”

  He lifted his hands, palms up, shrugging. “Where does one begin?”

  Smiling, she folded her hands. “Just the highlights will do.” She hesitated. “Where did you go after we— After I last saw you?”

  “I . . . ahhh . . . Well, of course, I thought I should not be . . . close. You know?” He looked at her, held her gaze for long seconds, and then looked away. “So I was relieved when Tam’s family decided to move to the western parts of Oosa. They were from there originally. Then, after Tam’s parent’s died, he and I just stayed put.”

  “I see.” When a gust of wind whipped its way inside her cloak, she pulled it closed more tightly. “And now?”

  “I questioned where to go after his death.” Petrus glanced across the training fields. “I decided to come here—just to check out sanctuary. I had no idea the place would be so busy.” He shuffled snow away from beneath his leather-booted foot. “And how about you? Are you committed to another of the Select?”

  “Not to an individual member, no.”

  “Meaning that you continue in your venture to assist all of the Select—in your commitment to them as a whole—and to Ehyeh.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” She pondered, wanting to choose her next words carefully.

  “Well—” he said, making as though to rise.

  “You should stay,” she interrupted him, reaching for his elbow, then pulling him forward in a silent invitation to sit back down. “There’s no charge now keeping you from another venture. We could use your help here.”

  “We?”

  “The ranking members of the Select—the twins—Reigna and Eden.”

  “I have heard something of them.”

  “They’ve just come into their powers.” She frowned. “And goodness but what powers they are,” she added, muttering.

  “Oh?”

  “Let’s just say they are most . . . unusual.”

  “I see.”

  She watched him carefully, “Petrus, do you mind talking about Tam?”

  “No, not at all. He . . . ahhh . . . he lived . . . to a ripe old age.”

  “He did, indeed. And now you have another lifetime ahead of you—and so many things to look forward to.”

  His eyes met hers briefly. Then he nodded and looked away. “Tell me of the twins,” he said.

  She explained about Rowena’s having born the first-ever twins among the Select, and of Mara’s role as Oathtaker to them.

  “I’m here with them now—the twins, that is, and with Dixon, Rowena’s former Oathtaker. They’re married, you know. Dixon and Mara, I mean.”

  “Married!” he exclaimed. Then scowling, he pulled back. “How is that possible when she remains bound to her oath for the protection of her charges?”

  “Ahhh . . . a magic exception, you might say.”

  “I see.” Then, “Too bad there was no exception for us,” he murmured.

  She behaved as though she hadn’t heard his comment. “I’ll be leaving the city shortly to head back to Shimeron to check on Mara.”

  “To check on her?”

  “She’s not been well. I’m assisting Dixon here in seeing to the twins’ safety.”

  “It sounds like you might be away for some time then. The palace is a long way off.”

  “Well, actually, I shouldn’t be more than a couple days.”

  “Days?”

  She grinned. “Attendant magic.”

  His brow dropped as he contemplated her meaning. “How is that?”

  She shrugged. “Suffice it to say, I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, like I said, you could be of service here.”

  “Hmmm.” He pulled his shoulders back. “Shimeron, huh? I heard the first family abandoned the palace after Lilith’s death.”

  “We returned there only a short time ago.”

  “I see.” He stood. “Actually, Lucy, you know—I think I need to get myself in order before I can be of any use to anyone else.”

  “Understood.” She paused. “Will you be in the city for long? Maybe when I return, we could—”

  Just then came a commotion at the front door to the building. Lucy looked up to find Dax marching his way toward her, calling her name.

  “I have to go,” Petrus said. He took her hand and squeezed it. “When you return, I will find you.”

  With that, he turned and jogged away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The lunch table held a bounty. The main course consisted of a winter root vegetable soup. Adele had roasted parsnips, carrots, turnips, sweet potatoes, pumpkin, and squash, then semi-mashed them along with a plentiful portion of cream and butter. Once done, she’d seasoned the fare with sautéed, caramelized onion bits, salt and pepper, and thinly sliced celery, after which she allowed the ingredients to stew together for a time, blending and magnifying their flavors. The savory scent of the resulting dish filled the air.

  The children, having eaten earlier, returned to their lessons under Nina and
Erin’s supervision. Meanwhile, Lucy and Mara, along with Vida and Clarimonde, sat at table.

  Mara dipped her crusty bread into her soup and then tasted it. “Mmmm,” she moaned, “this is the perfect fare for a cold day. I’m glad to have my appetite back!”

  “I’m just so relieved to see that you’re feeling better,” Lucy said. “Things have gone well in the City of Light, but the truth is that the twins miss you—and they need you. I think I’ve reached a new understanding with them, so they’re more willing now than ever before, to share their thoughts with me. But in truth, they do their best work when you’re with them.”

  Mara accepted the compliment with a smile. “Actually, things turned around for me in just the last days,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “It was touch and go for a time there. Just when I’d think I was on the mend, I’d suffer another bout. But finally, I’m feeling myself. What’s even better, is that all of the children seem to be on the mend now, as well.”

  “That’s right,” Vida said. “There were a few cases of the grippe that held on longer for some of them—as did yours, Mara,” she gestured her way, spoon in hand, “but everyone seems well now.”

  Clarimonde filled her teacup and raised it toward Lucy. “Your plan with the catswort tea helped,” she said, “and Adele has burned sage and rosemary smudges throughout the palace on a few occasions. Consequently, we stopped most of the spread of the illness, and the children are now all well. So we’ve finally managed to get classes started for them.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” Lucy said.

  “I’d actually intended to make my way to the city within the next day or so,” Mara said. “I miss the girls—and Dixon, of course. So you could fill me in, and then I’ll set off as soon as I can get my things together.”

  Lucy explained about how the girls were working with the troops and insisted that the training was going well.

  “In any case, for now, they’ve decided their efforts would be best spent there,” she concluded.

  “I’d like to see it,” Vida said.

  “The training?” Mara asked.

  “Yes—and sanctuary. And the City of Light, for that matter. I’ve never been there, you know.”

  “It’s quite the sight,” Clarimonde said.

  “What do you think, Lucy?” Mara asked. When she didn’t respond, she turned her way, only to find her glancing off.

  “Lucy?”

  She started. “What?” She smiled wanly, then put her spoon down. “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Mara watched her closely. “What do you think of Vida going to the city?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Why not?”

  “But—” Vida said.

  “No, I think you should go.”

  Vida and Clarimonde shared a glance.

  Just then, a knock came at the door.

  “Yes? Enter!” Mara called.

  Nina stepped in. She approached. “I’d like to know what you’ve heard about Carlie,” she said.

  “This is not the time, Nina,” Lucy interrupted.

  She glared at her, then turned back to address Mara once again. “Tell me.”

  “I’m sorry, Nina. Lucy says there’s been no word from Liam and Rafal for some time now.”

  “Then you should go to look for her, now that you’re feeling better. Carlie needs our help.”

  Mara sighed. “Nina, I’m sorry. I can’t go.” She reached for her friend.

  Nina pulled away. “I might have known you’d leave her there. So long as you get what you wa—”

  “That’s enough,” Lucy snapped.

  Clenching her jaw, Nina stared at her. “One of you needs to go look for her. Or— Or I will!”

  “I said ‘that’s enough.’” Lucy looked hard at her. “Now, we’re doing everything we can for Carlie.”

  Nina sneered at her and then at Mara before stomping out.

  “Isn’t there something more we can do for her daughter?” Vida asked. “I feel so badly for her.”

  “So do I, but she’s asking too much of me,” Mara said, as she visibly tried to shake off the encounter. “Now, Vida, do you want to go to the city?”

  “Practically speaking, Lucy, that would be difficult,” Clarimonde said. “It’s a long way off, and—”

  “So? I’ll take the two of you, one at a time, when you’re ready to go.”

  “I’d love to go,” Vida said. Then she shook her head and looked down. “But, I really should stay here, I suppose. The children are my responsibility, after all.”

  Lucy huffed. “We can manage the children quite well here. You should do it. You should go. You can visit sanctuary and spend some time with your sisters.”

  “Clarimonde?” Vida asked, her eyes wide, turning her way.

  “If Lucy’s willing—and if there’s room for us there—”

  “I’ll see to it when I get there,” Mara said. “That there will be room for the two of you, I mean.”

  “Perfect!” Vida exclaimed. She smiled broadly. “Goodness, I’m so excited! I’m going to go prepare some lesson plans for the children for while I’m away.”

  “Let’s go then,” Clarimonde said to her as she stood and took her arm. “I’ll help you.”

  After they stepped out, Mara turned to Lucy. She bit her lip. “Poor Nina,” she commented.

  “Yes, but you’re right. What she asks of you is too much.”

  “Still . . .” She tasted her tea, then put her cup back down. “Now, is everything really well, Lucy? You seemed . . . distracted earlier.”

  “No, everything is just fine.” She stretched her neck to one side and then to the other. Then she smiled briefly at Mara.

  “Out with it,” Mara insisted.

  She pushed her bowl away. “I . . . It’s just—”

  “Are the girls really all right? Is there something about them you’re not telling me?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes, they’re fine.” Lucy turned and looked out the window.

  “So, what is it then?” Mara’s brow dropped. “Is it Dixon? Has he been hurt or something?” She started to her feet.

  Looking back, Lucy patted Mara’s hand, encouraging her to sit back down. “No, I assure you, everyone is well. Now, you’d best get ready to set off. I’ll stick around here for a time, then meet up with you again in the city when Vida and Clarimonde are ready to go.”

  Mara nodded. “All right,” she said, then hesitated, “but first, Lucy, I wondered if I might speak with you about something.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “I’ve been having the strangest dreams of late. They’re troubling me.”

  “Dixon mentioned something of them, yes.” Lucy filled her teacup, then took a drink, waiting.

  “There are some I’ve had about the twins that— Well, I suppose it’s just about my fear for their safety. Given everything that’s happening, that doesn’t seem so odd, I suppose.” Mara’s eyes narrowed. “But there’s one that I just can’t seem to figure out.”

  Looking over the rim of her cup, Lucy asked, “The same dream, repeatedly?”

  Mara nodded.

  “Well, as you know, your attendant magic includes oddities relating to your dreams. So, tell me about it.”

  Mara sighed. “All right. Well, there’s this black forest. I mean, everything in it is dead. Logs from trees have fallen. The ground is desolate. Here and there a pocket of . . . I don’t know . . . uhhh . . . steam, or smoke, rises. The sunlight can’t make its way through it. And it smells ghastly—of sulphur, of charred bodies, of . . . death.”

  Lucy grimaced.

  “Crows fill the skies above. They swirl about, watching for anything that breathes to come along. And then there’s this one, clearly a male, that’s larger than all the others.”

  “One of the crows.”

  “Yes. It’s—I suppose—twice the size of the others. But here’s the strangest thing. Each day it—” Mara paused, struggling for the right words. “I gu
ess it produces—seeds.”

  Lucy pulled back. “I don’t understand.”

  “It nests in the uppermost branch of the highest tree. Each morning it squawks as it springs up to another branch. Then it looks down and there, inside its nest, is a packet of seeds.”

  “How do you know they’re seeds?”

  “Well, that’s where it gets truly strange. You see, one day, another crow comes along. It is clearly a female, although I can’t tell you how I know that. As the master bird gathers the seed pack in its mouth and shakes it, the individual seeds all fall down to the ground, except that she—the female crow, that is—grabs one before it lands. From there, the dream follows that seed.”

  Lucy warmed Mara’s cup of tea. “What happens to it?” she asked.

  “The female crow takes the seed. She flies over the forest. Soon she drops to the ground near one of those beds of steam—or smoke—or whatever it is. She lets go of the seed and then waits there, staring at it. Notwithstanding its surroundings, the thing slowly sprouts. The moment it does, she caws loudly, then pulls it up and tosses it aside.” Mara looked up and held Lucy’s gaze.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “No, that’s all strange enough, but there’s more.”

  “What happens?” Lucy leaned in closer.

  “As she tosses it, this other bird comes along in a gust. Clearly female—although again, I don’t know how I know that—its feathers are bright, colorful. It stands out amongst the surrounding darkness. That bird grabs the seedling and flies away.”

  “What happens when the crow catches her?”

  “It doesn’t. It doesn’t even chase her.”

  Lucy cocked her head. “So . . . what’s the problem?”

  “The colorful bird takes the seed. She flies through the desolation, eventually making her way out. The next thing I know, others like her, surround her. They are in a place of sunlight and greenery. The bird opens her beak and drops the seedling, which by now, is nearly dried out.”

  “So . . . it’s dead?”

  “Oh, no! Then the first of the birds finds a spot in the earth where sunshine is plentiful and there is fresh water nearby. She pokes a hole in the ground with her beak. She struggles with the seedling until she can get its little root into the ground. Meanwhile, the other birds all go to the river. They fill their beaks and then, one by one, they return and drip the few drops of water they can carry, onto the newly planted seedling.”