by Aimee Moore
I was lifting lids on baskets and chests, trying to find something worth salvaging. I didn't see anything in front of me that was worth the burden of being carried. All I could think about was Dal being gone. New tears threatened to well up in my hot, puffy eyes as I warred with regret and fear.
“Aha,” Mindrik said.
I let the lid of a chest drop and turned to see him holding up a stoppered bottle.
“You see? Some things are meant to sit.”
“Mead?” I asked, standing.
“No, my dear lady, this is wine.”
I frowned at the bottle of purple liquid. “I've never had that, we only had mead.”
“Well then, you're in for a treat.” Mindrik set the bottle on the table and continued searching.
We searched three more houses, bumping elbows and exchanging glances. After a time, I no longer let guilt slow my searching hands. We found food that had not rotted, mostly potatoes and onions and alcohol, and few grains that mice and bugs hadn't been able to reach.
An underground chamber containing crocks of pickled carrots, cabbage, and peppers was a pleasant surprise. As was the surplus of wine, according to Mindrik, who was now hauling five clinking bottles in his robe.
Another house finally yielded the belongings of a woman my size.
“Seraphine, come here,” Mindrik said.
I did as he said, seeing him hold open a chest of dresses. They were in varying shades of blues and greens and tans. I bit my lip, shying away from the pretty garments. Too pretty. Too revealing.
Mindrik looked up at me, noticing my frown. “The Kraw are no longer a threat, Seraphine. Your skirts are safe. Treat yourself to something pleasant until we get to the capital. After all, you wouldn’t want to arrive looking like that, now would you?”
I shifted my gaze down to my makeshift shirt, hanging stiff to my fingertips over my tattered and browned skirt. “Alright. Wait out there, please.”
Mindrik stood and gave me a bow with a flourish. “As you wish,” he said in a mock formal voice, then departed through the curtain in the doorway. I watched the curtain, making sure that he could not peek through, then turned back to the chest of dresses.
I found one that was a pale green with a shining ribbon to tie around the waist. It would be the most form-fitting thing I had worn since I was abducted.
I put the dress on and helped myself to the woman's hair brush, borrowing a silvery ribbon to tie my hair with. When I was done, half of my red waves were done up nicely, while the other half cascaded down my back to curl above my waist. I found more useful things, such as soaps, jeweled combs, feminine items that I would soon need, and slippers.
There were light travel bags stuffed in another basket, and I filled one with all of my finds, adding an ugly brown dress to my new treasures just in case this one became ruined. If Dal really was gone, I would want to be ugly, not attracting the attention of others.
When I emerged from the curtain, Mindrik looked up and stared. The book that had been in his hands dropped to the ground with a soft crunch.
My face heated as I looked away. “There's more dresses in there. I can pick something else if this is not fit for the capital.”
Mindrik walked over and took my hand, brushing a kiss across the top of it. “My dear woman, they won't stop staring.”
I smiled at the compliment. “Look, I found more things. There are more bags back there if you need one.”
“I still have room in the one we found in the hungry man's house.” That particular house had a wealth of rotten food. “Come, the day wears on and I am sure you are as famished as I.”
“I won't find an appetite among all of those dead, maybe we should stay in here.”
“There cannot be dead everywhere. We'll make a celebration out of our good finds this day. To honor the fallen who have made this possible.” Mindrik grabbed a large blanket off of a wooden chair and raised his bag in mock toast.
I smiled. “Alright, lead the way, kind sir,” I said with a breathy laugh.
Mindrik led me out into the sunlight, and we skirted the festering massacre. I had thought there were more bodies in the open grave of the village when we arrived, but now they did not seem so many. Perhaps I was less intimidated by them.
We approached the back of the village, near the edge of the skeletal forest. The air was fresher here, and the mat of dead grass was soft as we spread the blanket over it. I continued to check the village behind us for signs of Dal. There were none. I turned away, not wanting to ruin Mindrik’s picnic with my guilt-stricken worries.
Mindrik glanced back over his shoulder, then to me. “You are wondering where your beast has gone.”
I sat on the blanket, smoothing my pretty dress with unsteady hands. “He is my guard.”
“Yes, I can see how that would be necessary,” Mindrik said as he began to pull his finds from the bag, laying them out before us. “Not to worry, my lady, the beast is busying himself burying the dead while we feast in high fashion.”
“What?” I whispered, staring at Mindrik.
Mindrik glanced up at me. “You hadn't noticed? There,” he pointed, “that pile of fresh dirt that you can almost see behind the far building on the right, that one is the newest.”
My lips parted in surprise, and I rose. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said, not taking my eyes off of that scant view of fresh dirt. I began walking toward it, my heart pounding.
“You cannot think to dirty that new dress, Seraphine, it would be a sin,” Mindrik called after me. “Come, enjoy this fine meal.”
I turned to him as I walked. “I will be back shortly, Mindrik.” And with that, I turned and ran to Dal. When I skirted the building, I came upon a freshly dug hole with a shovel next to it. I looked around wildly for Dal and found him, carrying a figure wrapped in moldy burlap.
He had probably emptied sacks of festering grain for the material. Did Kraw bury their dead, too? Or simply let them rot? I watched him carry the figure until he noticed me. Our eyes locked, the hazel being warmed by fresh spring green.
“Dal...”
Dal's chest heaved as his eyes traveled over my newly clad form, meeting my gaze again. He marched over to me and lowered the figure into the grave, straightening and looking at me again. A gust of wind picked up, blowing strands of red around my face.
“I see what you mean, about butterflies,” Dal said.
“Sometimes, even dragonflies want to be lovely,” I said.
“You are beautiful, Seraphine, with or without painted wings.”
My chest squeezed, and I took a step toward Dal. He stepped back.
“No, I am bathed in death.”
I frowned. “Then let me help.”
“I must do this alone.” He bent to the shovel.
“You don't have to. I’m able. And Mindrik and I have found food, you should eat.”
Dal raised his eyes to mine. “You have suffered for the actions of my people enough, Seraphine. I will carry out this task alone.”
I began to protest.
“Without argument,” he said in a tone that silenced me. He began burying the corpse without another word, as if I wasn't there.
I sighed, looking away for a moment. “Dal,” I said, looking back at the massive Kraw. He made the shovel look like a toy. “Thank you.”
His eyes met mine, the tender brush of forgiveness in them warming me. And then he bent back to his task, leaving me to flutter back to Mindrik. As I returned to the picnic spot, I was light with dizzy wonder and guilt.
“You see? The beast is making himself useful,” Mindrik said.
I shot Mindrik a glare. “We should be helping.”
“Would the beast accept?”
“No,” I conceded.
“There, you see? Let us not spoil his kindness, come and sit.”
“Okay, but we must save some for Dal.”
Mindrik and I enjoyed our picnic in the grass, feasting on our finds until we were full. It was a rare treat
to sit in the open air, enjoying abundant food and laughs, unfettered by the weight of capture. After a time, Dal had disappeared again, and I worried myself looking for him.
“Your beast has probably left to bathe,” Mindrik said, popping the cork out of a bottle of wine.
“There is a river nearby?” I asked, furrowing my brow and looking around.
“Yes, that direction.” Mindrik pointed behind me, far to the right, past more buildings.
“He will need soap,” I said, starting to rise.
“Seraphine, you said yourself that the Kraw is intelligent. He will find some if he needs it. Do try this wine.”
I sat back down, looking off into the distance, wanting to bathe with Dal more than I wanted to try wine with Mindrik. But, in the interest of keeping appearances, I did as he asked, turning my attention to him.
“How do we know it's not spoiled?” I asked.
“Allow me.” Mindrik took the first glug from the bottle, a thoughtful expression crossing his face before he swallowed.
“Oh no, not spoiled at all. Here.”
I accepted the bottle and gave it a sniff. It was similar to mead, except in the absence of wildflowers and honey, there was the scent of berries and oak. Intrigued, I lifted the bottle for a sip. The pleasant taste of red fruit and vanilla washed over my tongue, followed by a mellowed burn of alcohol, then sour earthiness, and a hint of violets.
Mindrik was right, wine was quite good. I lowered the bottle, covering my mouth with my fingertips as the warmth traveled through me. I smiled at Mindrik.
“Never doubt a university scholar on the subject of wine, my dear, we are quite versed in its effects. And after effects,” Mindrik added with a wink.
Within a short amount of time, both of us were warm and sleepy, our troubles lightened and our tongues loosened by the wine. We lounged in the lazy sunshine; cares forgotten for a time.
Mindrik lay back on the blanket, looking up at the rolling sea of clouds washing in. “If they weren't so far away, I could make them far away,” he said with a sigh.
I lay back as well, frowning up at the clouds. “That made no sense.”
“Clouds are fog, you see, and fog is water, and if water were to be close then it would be rain and I could send it all back up as a cloud.”
“How do you know that clouds and fog and water are all friends?” I asked with a laugh, picturing clouds holding hands and skipping off into the fog.
“One of the elder council has traversed a mountain, into a cloud, and lived to tell the tale.”
“And his gift was also water?”
“Oh yes. He was to be my mentor when I got to the capital. Sol Creljin, master of water.”
“What was he like?”
“I cannot say. I was too worried about the politics of game to find out,” he said with a slight slur.
I smiled as I tried to sort through his words. In an oddly fuzzy way, they made sense. I sighed. “I wish I could control my gift.”
Mindrik turned his head to me. “You will. You just have to surrender to it.”
I snorted. “I've done plenty of that in my life so far.”
“Being captured is not giving yourself up,” Mindrik said.
“Either way, I'm not sure how to surrender to this strange power.”
Mindrik turned and propped himself on one elbow, looking at me. “Capitulation is the easy part, Seraphine. You just have to ride the wave, let it take you as you embrace it.” Mindrik was giving a flourish with his free hand, like water waves.
My face warmed as other memories of surrender came to me, and Mindrik gave me a slow smile.
He scooted closer. “You can feel it, can you not?”
“The fire?”
Mindrik nodded.
“Yes.”
“Close your eyes then,” he whispered, “and be one with it. Let it touch every part of your skin.”
But when I closed my eyes, I only remembered the way Dal had touched my skin, stopping to suck or nibble and elicit a soft groan out of me. The wind blew through the gooseflesh on my sensitive arm, and I let out a shaking exhale at the memory.
I opened my eyes, and Mindrik was watching me, gaze fixed in my lips.
“Did you find it?” He whispered.
“What was it that she was supposed to find?” Dal all but growled at our feet.
Mindrik startled and drew away from me, glowering up at Dal. I rolled onto my back, looking at the dripping Kraw as if he were my own personal knight. Shining muscles pushing against strong tattoos, straining to be free with every movement; I wanted to explore this more. I remembered the way he smelled and the way his body moved against mine and let off a pleasurable sigh as parts of me warmed.
“Do the Kraw not have manners?” Mindrik asked in a sour tone, packing away the food.
“More so than humans, who would not think to feed those who protect them.”
With a glare, Mindrik threw the food back out onto the blanket. “You will drip on the blanket.”
“Try the wine, Dal,” I said with a soft smile. I wanted him to feel the way I felt.
Dal cast me a curious glance, picking up the bottle and sniffing it. “There is... spirit in this.”
“That's rather the point of wine, don't you think?” Mindrik said.
Dal shoved the bottle out of sight with a grunt and sat by my feet to help himself to our finds. I knew that he could finish everything we found within the hour, but he ate lightly, casting neutral gazes our way, punctuated by a frown now and again. I searched my muddled brain for what could be causing the friction in this moment. But for all the good it did, my thoughts tumbled over each other like dandelion fluff on the wind. I gave up and made conversation.
“Mindrik was teaching me about my fire,” I said, sitting up.
“He does not need to intoxicate you to teach you,” Dal said.
“You mistake my intentions. The wine was there, I enjoy it, and so I shared,” Mindrik said, crossing his arms. “Do not make me out to be the kind of sorry individual who needs to ride into a woman's skirts on the coattails of a drink.”
My head was floating on a pleasant cloud. “Were you trying to woo me, Mindrik?”
“Would you have allowed it?” He returned with a silly grin.
I thought upon the possibility, finding only mere curiosity at the idea of Mindrik kissing me. Not the same heat as Dal's kiss, which made my face warm.
“She would not have objected, because she is awash in drink,” Dal said in a flat tone.
“Drunk,” I corrected. “Which I'm not.”
“You are flushed,” Dal said.
“Well that happens when certain memories come to mind,” I said with a slow smile.
Dal did not react, which stung.
“And what memories would make a woman such as you turn such a pretty color?” Mindrik asked.
I laughed, shaking my head. “A lady never tells,” I said in a solemn tone.
Mindrik smiled at my antics. “And I had thought you an untouched innocent.”
I glanced at Dal, who was furrowing his brow into the jar of pickled peppers as he chewed, then I drew my gaze back to Mindrik. I leaned in close, and I could count the boyhood freckles on Mindrik's nose. “A lady never tells,” I whispered with a laugh.
Mindrik laughed as well.
When I tried to right myself, I fell face first toward Mindrik's lap, but never experienced the brush of his robes upon my face. Dal's large hand had caught my shoulders, righting me with ease.
“Enough,” he said, standing.
“Enough what?” I grabbed the bottle of wine from a tuft of grass it had been hiding behind and lifted it to Dal. “Have some, will you? I think you need to relax,” I said.
Mindrik burst into laughter, and I wasn't sure why. I tilted my head at him before returning my gaze to Dal and taking another swig of the sweet, tart juice.
“Come, you are in need of a walk,” Dal said, drawing a squeak out of me as he hauled me to my feet.
My dress twirled around my legs in a soft caress and the bottle in my hand sloshed.
“Yes, we could all use some fresh air, there is surely not enough of it here,” Mindrik said with a laugh, standing.
“Not you,” Dal growled at him. “You stay here. I shall return within the hour.”
“My dear beast, a man as powerful as me does not do the bidding of Kraw,” Mindrik said as he stood.
Dal put one hand on Mindrik's shoulder and pushed him back down to the blanket. Mindrik's legs buckled with ease. “You will remain here,” Dal said in a commanding tone.
Mindrik glared up at Dal, and I cast a worried glance between the two men.
“Come,” Dal said to me, plucking the bottle from my hands and setting it down before leading me away, toward the river. The skeletal trees cast a scant net of shade over us as we walked through the crunching, dead grass. When I looked over my shoulder, Mindrik was back to his foul mood, throwing food into a bag.
“You were not kind to him,” I said to Dal.
“That is not my concern.”
“He really is nice, you know, if you just give him a chance.”
“He cannot be trusted. You would be wise not to forget that. And you would be wise not to forget that he is a man and you are a woman.”
“Well of course he is a man and I am a woman, I'm the one in the dress,” I said with a laugh.
Dal let a long sigh out of his nose, but I could almost swear I saw his mouth quirk.
We walked on, and after a time, I cast an unsure look up at Dal, who was staring ahead as we walked. “You are angry with me,” I said.
“No.”
“You lie.”
“I will never lie to you, Sera.”
“Then why are you in such a foul mood? Is Mindrik contagious? Good heavens we should all be in quarantine.”
Dal seemed to let his tension go. We had been walking for nearly twenty minutes now, and Mindrik was far behind us. The bubble of a river floated to us from ahead.
