Gypsy's Quest

by Nikki Broadwell

  In the morning I crouched next to the fire, disturbing and confusing thoughts about Brandubh crowding into my mind. But into the chaos one clear vision emerged. Rifak was close.

  “I think so too,” Brandubh said, appearing behind me.

  I’d forgotten his ability to read minds—now he knew all the thoughts I’d been having, the emotions I couldn’t suppress. “Can you please stop that? I’d rather keep my thoughts private, if you don’t mind.”

  “I was only responding to the one about Fehin. I can hear him in my head.”

  I stood up, peering into his eyes. “You can? How far away are they? Can he read your thoughts too? Ohmygod, if he says anything, she’ll…”

  “He can’t read my thoughts yet. He’s too young.”

  I relaxed, sinking back into a crouch. “Can you see where they are?”

  Brandubh shook his head. “Fehin is playing with a big dog. He’s contented.”

  “So what now?” I asked after we’d finished our meager breakfast. “How far do you think they are?”

  “Not more than a few miles.”

  ***

  We moved single file along a narrow uphill trail, our labored breath coming out in white clouds as we climbed. In the distance I spied the wall between the worlds letting out a gasp of shock. “How can we get across that?” The dark rock loomed upward, obliterating any view of what was beyond.

  “Not hard for me,” Foy said, skipping ahead.

  “Here take this,” I called, throwing him the coil of rope. I heard rumbling in the distance, and grabbed Brandubh’s arm. “What is that?”

  “I would say it’s the giants walking around. I’ve heard they stand over twenty feet tall.” A whimper came out of my mouth before I could stop it. What in hell were we doing?

  “We need Gunnar,” I muttered, moving ahead of Brandubh toward the wall.

  “Gunnar’s magic did no good the last time,” Brandubh reminded me. “Take this knife and put it into your belt. It may come in handy.” He pulled an eight-inch knife out of his belt and handed it to me.

  I took it, sticking it into the knot of my belt, but I was pretty sure that if it came down to it, I wouldn’t be able to use it.

  “I can hear him again,” Brandubh continued, stopping behind me.

  I turned. “What’s he saying?”

  “He’s laughing. Loki’s throwing him up in the air.”

  “Loki…throwing?” I pictured the red-haired god, wondering how we could coax our child to leave him. When I looked up again Foy was standing on the forty-foot high wall gesturing wildly, the rope swinging down on our side. How he managed to climb up those steep glass-like sides I would never know. But right now I was faced with my fear of climbing as well as the impossiblilty of what we were doing.

  I reached the wall first and grabbed the rope, staring up. The satyr had disappeared over the other side and when I pulled on the rope I felt the tug of his body weight holding it. Thank the goddess the rope was long enough. I tied it around my waist, pushing myself away as I’d seen climbers do, my feet moving slowly up, but before I could stop myself I’d crashed into the rock, scraping my elbows and knuckles and the side of my face.

  “Undo the rope, Gertrude. You need to climb up using your hands--rapelling is for going down. Find footholds as you climb,” Brandubh whispered.

  I tried not to look down, fear lodging in my throat and making it hard to breathe. My hands burned as I struggled to move them up the rope, my feet searching for tiny crevasses. At the top I was able to pull myself onto the foot wide surface, a sigh of relief releasing my held breath. But looking down I was aware that it would be even more difficult to reach the satyr. I simply couldn’t do it.

  “Throw the rope down,” Brandubh called, “and take the other end from Foy. Rapel down.”

  It seemed to take forever, rope burns digging into my palms as I lowered myself hand over hand toward the bottom. Around six feet from the ground I let myself go, landing hard, my feet burning and tingling painfully from the cold and pressure.

  It took both Foy and myself to hold Brandubh’s weight as he climbed, pain searing into my abrased palms. When he jumped down next to me his whispered words made the hair on the back of my neck tingle. “Forgot to tell you, Loki is a shapeshifter.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He changes into a dog to entertain Fehin.”

  Jotunheim was covered in dark clouds, a freezing land full of mists and sheer mountains of dark rock. I heard the roar of some otherworldy creature in the distance, hoping it wasn’t coming our way. A castle made out of the same stone stood a hundred yards from the wall, it’s sharp spires menacing under the dark fog swirling around it. “There’s nowhere to hide.”

  “This is where I come in,” Foy announced gaily, producing the pipes. He put them to his lips, an irresistible trill of tones lifting into the frozen air. “Leave the rope,” he told me. “We’ll need it to get out of here.”

  “If they’re following us there’s no way we can be fast enough.”

  “Have a little faith,” the satyr said, moving down the path toward the castle. He put the pipes to his lips again, notes moving ahead of him toward the keep.

  His sudden change of mood surprised me until I registered that the excitement of finally reaching the castle had infused him with energy.

  “Who goes there!” a booming voice called out, followed by the appearance of an enormous man wearing a helmet and armor. He towered over the satyr, his legs the size of tree trunks.

  “It is only me come to entertain,” I heard Foy announce, waving for us to stay put. “I’ve heard there’s a child here.”

  He stared down on Foy, and for a moment I thought he would simply step on the diminutive satyr, but instead he took off his helmet, leaning down to get a better look. “Are you one of those…?”

  “Satyrs? Yes, that’s me.

  “Do they expect you?”

  “If they did it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

  “Well, I can’t imagine you doing much harm—go on with ye then,” the sentry said, opening the gate.

  Foy skipped through, giving us the thumbs up before disappearing. “Now what?” I asked, looking at Brandubh.

  “We wait here,” he whispered.

  “What do you think our chances are?”

  Brandubh shook his head, blowing on his fingers and then stuffing his hands into his pockets.

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “The only idea I came up with was to throw myself on her mercy in order to see my son. She knows how desperate I am.”

  “And then what?”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

  I let out a long sigh, crouching down to keep out the cold. My fingers and toes had gone completely numb and I stuffed my hands under my sweater.

  “Here,” Brandubh said, “move closer.” He held out his arm and I moved next to him, pressing against his body and trying not to shiver.

  It was at least an hour before I heard the trill of the pipes, looking up to see Foy climbing out of an upper story window. Behind him a small form emerged. “He’s got him—they’re coming! But how…Brandubh, he’s going to fall!” I disentangled myself, hurtling toward the castle.

  “Stop.” Brandubh’s heavy hand was on my shoulder. “Look.”

  When I looked up Rifak was on the satyr’s back, his arms tight around Foy’s neck. The satyr was halfway down when I saw a face appear in the window.

  “My sweet Fehin, where are you going?”

  I watched in horror as Fehin let go of Foy, his head swiveling upward toward Adair. “Mama,” he called to her just before loosing his hold and tumbling toward the ground. This time Brandubh wasn’t quick enough to stop me as I hurtled toward my baby. By the time I reached the crumpled form, Adair was next to him, her narrowed eyes on me. “Look what you’ve done,” she hissed, leaning over Rifak.

  “Rifak!” When I moved closer I saw his closed eyes, his neck at a weird angle. His sk
in had an unnatural pallor. Something came over me at that point and before I knew what I was doing I’d pulled the knife out of my belt. I lunged toward Adair, plunging it directly into the middle of her chest. When I pulled it out it was covered in blood but instead of stopping I plunged it in again and again, my screams rising above her anguished cries. Once her body crumpled to the ground I watched her face begin to age, horror coming over me as she grew older and older, her skin turning to leather, her body hunching into an ancient and hideous hag. Her eyes turned dull, yellowing around the edges before they lost their focus.

  “NO!” The deep resounding bellow made me cringe in terror, my gaze going to the larger-than-life man who had appeared in the window above. His eyes were so dark they looked black, golden ringlets in opposition to the furious expression on his handsome face. I had picked up Rifak when I felt my body move through the air, slamming into the wall. Stunned, I tried to get my bearings but tears were blinding me. And then I saw Foy, his expression of terror bringing me back to myself. I clung to the lifeless body of my child as I stood and hurried after the satyr, following him along the wall. When I looked back Loki was bent over Adair. I couldn’t hear anything and hoped against hope that she was too far gone to revive.

  “Hurry, Gertrude,” Foy yelled, “Loki’s going to come after us.”

  He passed by the rope, heading to where the wall had crumbled a bit, making his way up through the rubble. He reached for my free hand, pulling me behind him. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he told me, his eyes wide with fear.

  I let him haul me toward the top, every footfall feeling heavier than the next. Once we were on the other side, he let me go, his exasperated gaze on my face.

  “Snap out of it!” he shouted, slapping my cheek.

  I put my hand there, feeling nothing but the knives inside my heart. Maybe I was dying, I thought desultorily. It would feel good to die, good to let go of this horrible pain. I pressed Rifak’s body against mine, following the satyr through thickets of brambles and then under trees that hung over us like a shroud, finally arriving at a rocky outcropping.

  “In here,” the satyr called, hurrying ahead into a narrow opening between the dark rocks. I followed him into darkness, my fingers searching along cool walls. “We’ll be safe here,” I heard Foy say. Safe? I would never be safe again. I lay down then, curling into a tight ball around Rifak and hoping I would simply die.

  ***

  “Gertrude, I found water.”

  I sat up, my eyes adjusting to the inky blackness so that I could make out his form. He handed me my waterskin, which he had filled. “There’s a stream in here,” he continued, “and some watercress and algae. Did you know you can live on algae?”

  I had time to take a drink and wipe my mouth before I noticed the limp body next to mine, a sharp pain knifing through my chest. I lay back down, curling around my baby again while Foy rattled on. “You know the sorceress brought Brandubh back—there’s no reason why Gunnar can’t fix Rifak. After all, he’s a druid. And maybe Rifak isn’t even dead. I mean he looks bad but…”

  “Can you please stop talking?” I sat up, hugging my arms around myself. “Where’s Brandubh?”

  “I haven’t seen him since the castle. Maybe he’s still there. Maybe Brandubh can bring Rifak back to life when he tracks us down.”

  “Brandubh is not a healer or a magician or a god. Stop trying to cheer me up. I know what’s what.” I picked up Rifak again, surprised that rigor mortis hadn’t yet set in. I bent my head to his, smelling his baby smell. My tears were falling on his face but I couldn’t stop crying.

  The satyr made a funny huffing sigh, moving to lean against the wall across from me. “You need to follow me to the stream. You need to eat.”

  “I don’t care about food. I wish I were dead.”

  “It isn’t like you to give up, Gertrude.”

  “There’s nothing more to do. My baby is dead. The journey ends here.” I hadn’t even had a chance to kiss him or hug him before he was gone. I curled up again, pulling Rifak’s body close and closing my eyes.

  ***

  “Where is she?” I heard a familiar voice ask. A moment later arms were lifting me, Kafir’s arms. “We need to get you out of here,” he said, carrying me toward the narrow slice of light. Outside he put me down, his worried gaze on my face. “I came as soon as I could but this is a long way from anywhere.”

  “How did you find us?” I managed to ask before tears welled up again. I fought against them but I was no match for the profound sadness that filled every part of my being.

  “Gypsy found you. You must realize that she’s as connected to you as she is to me. I had no control of this trip. The coast is not far, can you manage?” he asked, taking hold of my arm.

  “I can’t leave Rifak here. We need to bury him.” I turned and headed back inside the cave, Kafir on my heels.

  “The ground is completely frozen out here. And if we remain Loki will surely find us and kill us.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t already done so. I wish he would.”

  “Gertrude, I understand how you feel. I feel the same way, but you dying will not solve anything.”

  “There’s nothing to solve.”

  Kafir stared at me. “You’re coming with me whether I have to pick you up and carry you out of here. We can leave the body here in the cave where it will be safe from scavengers.”

  I began to cry again but I knew he was right. There was no way we could bury him. “At least let me wrap him up and say a few words.” I bundled his little body in my shawl, tears streaming down my face. I placed him deep inside the cave and set rocks around him and then kneeled on the stone floor and kissed his cold forehead. “Please take my baby to a better place,” I pleaded with the spirits. “Please speed him on his journey and make him happy in his new life.”

  I looked up to see Kafir kneeling next to me with tears in his eyes. “We love you, Rifak, and we hold you in our hearts forever,” Kafir finished, placing his arm gently around my shoulder.

  I turned my head into his chest letting my tears flow freely until there was nothing left.

  “Time to go now,” Kafir said once my sobs had lessened.

  I nodded, wiping my face with my sleeve before following the sailor out of the cave and through the gloom. Foy stayed beside me, his occasional sideways glances filled with anxiety. I think my talk of my own demise had greatly frightened him. Satyrs were by nature happy-go-lucky, their lives stress free. They would never fall into a depression like mine, no matter what happened.

  Foy and Kafir spoke about mundane things as we walked. I didn’t listen, only putting one foot in front of the other obediently. I had a nearly overwhelming urge to lie down and never get up, but every time I lagged behind, Kafir or Foy would come by me and urge me on. I felt like a recalcitrant animal that needed to be herded. At some point I heard them mention Brandubh, my ears perking up to listen.

  “He never showed up,” Foy said.

  “Is there a chance he’s involved with Loki?”

  “I don’t know. He certainly seemed sincere enough while we were traveling, but he and Gertrude…” Foy glanced my way to see if I was listening and then turned back, lowering his voice. “He had something in mind more than friendship,” the satyr whispered.

  “Not surprising. I saw it on the way back from Nifleheim. Did Gertrude respond to him?” This was asked in a hoarse whisper that I could barely hear.

  “Yes,” I heard Foy say.

  I hated that I had hurt Kafir, but I felt nothing except scoured out and hollow.

  We spent the night along the way somewhere. I refused Kafir’s offers to keep me warm, sleeping by myself rolled into a tight ball. In the morning when Kafir gave me a cup of tea and a plate filled with food I refused them, bile rising into my throat at the thought of putting anything in my mouth.

  “You have to eat,” he told me, but I shook my head.

  We reached Gypsy by nightfall, the little boat bob
bing as it waited in the protected inlet. When I climbed on board I felt welcomed, as though a communication had come from the vessal under me. I went into the stateroom, not even surprised to see the spacious room again. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my dulled gaze traveling across the shelves of books. When one caught my eye I went to pull it out: The Tarot Revealed. I let the book fall open, my eyes meeting those of the page of cups. This card nearly always related to children, the meaning immediately clear. The page of cups referred to Rifak. I let the book fall to the floor, lying back on the bed.

  “Gertrude?” When the door opened Kafir was standing there.”I didn’t tell you this for fear of upsetting you, but last night when I was scouting around I saw Loki and Brandubh at the cave. They took Rifak.”

  “Oh god!” I got off the bed but my legs buckled and there was nothing I could do to stop the darkness that came over my mind.

  I woke later on the couch, Kafir and Foy both staring down.”Are you all right?”

  “No, I am not all right and I never will be,” I answered, turning away from them. My baby’s death and the memory of my brutal murder of Adair loomed up in my mind, like a horror movie playing over and over. And this latest news—had I been mistaken about Brandubh after all? My last thread of sanity had now been severed.

  ***

  Kafir sailed Gypsy back to Fell, the trip taking a quarter of the time it had taken to walk it. I spent most of the ride in the cabin face down on the bunk. I ate nothing, although I did drink water and tea when offered. The day we entered the harbor I realized I had nothing to say to anyone. I didn’t want sympathy or any other condolences from my friends, dreading even seeing their faces.

  After Foy left the boat I turned to Kafir who was winding the sails and coiling the sheets. “I want you to take me back to Milltown.”

  Kafir turned, surprise in his eyes. “I thought you would stay here after everything that’s happened.”

  “That’s exactly why I need to go home. There, at least, everything won’t remind me of Rifak.”

  “And what about us?”

  “There is no us. I told you before I left Fell that without my baby, I couldn’t be with anybody.”