A Bird of Sorrow

by Shea Godfrey

  Her lips were still wet from their kiss. “But it should be your favorite color.” Her voice was filled with heat and he felt it in his loins, her words soaked with intimacy.

  His smile was true. “I know.”

  “Ben.”

  He stopped at his name, his desire and fear tangled together in one overwhelming emotion that he understood would never come again, borne upon the realization that he was in love.

  Nina took a small step, and then she lifted her nightshift, pulling the top piece over her head and free of her body. The breath was pushed from his lungs as if he’d been struck, her breasts revealed to him beneath the thundering rush of his blood. They were perfect and full and slightly heavy, her hardened nipples standing firm and high in the darker skin that encircled them.

  Nina came to him with a quick step and took hold of his wounded hand. She wrapped it in the silk and tied a knot with trembling fingers, his ring and chain still held in her grip.

  “You didn’t lie,” he whispered as his eyes followed her freckles across the smooth skin of her breasts. She did not respond. “Look up, my Lady.”

  Nina lifted her face to his and her skin was dark with the flush of her emotions.

  “I bid you do as you must, for your safety and your happiness.” The words unraveled upon his tongue with truth and the fierce need to finally be free. “But know that I have waited my whole life to say these words…” He leaned down and kissed her lips before he whispered against her mouth. “I am in love with you, my Lady.” His smile came from the deepest depths of his heart. “My own Lady Lewellyn…my sweet Nina.”

  Her eyes were bright and they filled his vision completely. There was nothing else to see. “Go. Go, Ben, please, I beg you…before they find you, or you are left behind.”

  Bentley opened his eyes and the sweet intensity of Nina’s remembered gaze faded in the warmth of the lamplight.

  He looked to the bed and considered their next move, and what might be best for them all, if Darry couldn’t find her path beyond the majik that held her captive. For if his dearest friend did not return, neither would the Jessa they had all come to love.

  He dropped his face into his hands. If Darry did not survive, none of them would.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Darry saw light and shadows, and there were voices in the distance. A distance that was a lifetime away and then, suddenly, close to her face as they brushed past her.

  “Let go of your thoughts, my daughter, and remember…”

  Darry did as she was told and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts slip free as she did when she danced the Dance of Steel. She felt Tannen’s touch upon her face, and her rough voice beside her ear. “Remember what the world has forgotten…”

  “Sit still, Tannen.”

  Tannen Ahru looked at her mother and felt less than happy. These things were not important and Enoch would agree with her. Enoch was the holiest of all Holy Men and she felt as he did. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head, though her gaze stayed upon her mother.

  “Do not give me the side of your soul,” her mother said, and her voice caused a shiver of fright to move along the back of Tannen’s neck. “What good is looking if you do not see what is right in front of you, eh?”

  Tannen let the growl rumble along the surface of her throat and Hashiki crawled beneath the low table. She wiggled into Tannen’s lap as much as she could. Tannen slipped a hand beneath the table and held on to the soft fur about the neck of the desert lynx.

  Be nice, Hashiki told her and Tannen heard the familiar voice in her thoughts. She tipped to the side and looked beneath the table.

  Her mother laughed, but it was not very funny. “Do not be planning your escape, you two.”

  Her mother turned her back as she moved by the hearth, and Pallay moved with grace as she got up from the floor. The red wolf walked to the low table and stepped her front paws onto its surface. Her sleek body lifted up as her hazel and amber eyes stared down her long nose, directly at Tannen.

  I told you. Hashiki sighed.

  The low growl that Pallay threatened with vibrated at the back of Tannen’s skull, and she squinted her eyes against it, her hair falling forward as if to shield herself.

  Tannen’s mother moved around her and knelt down, setting the wooden plate upon the table. There were flavorful greens, cut apples, and slices of seared beef that made her mouth water. There was enough upon the plate for both Hashiki and herself.

  “Tannen, my love.”

  Tannen looked up at her mother.

  Her mother smiled and pushed Tannen’s dark blond curls over her shoulder. “I know the joys of the wild,” she said quietly. “You think that Pallay and I did not run free for years and years and forever? We did, and I was very late to take my Shou-ah in the first place. They had to come and find us, and my father broke his leg in the search.” She made a face. “He never let me forget it.”

  Tannen reached out and touched her mother’s cheek. It was warm and plump and lovely.

  “Do not be afraid. This will not go away with the Shou-ah. You are human, too. That must be honored every bit as much. The Shou-ah will only bind your power in balance with all life, yours and Hashiki’s. Whatever your place is to be, your power shall find you, and it will be more than up to the task.” She held up her left hand and turned it. The light from the oil lamp upon the table caught against the silver vambrace cuff upon her mother’s wrist. “This is to protect us both, Palley and me. They must not become too much like us, eh?”

  Tannen leaned forward and took in her mother’s scent.

  Her mother cupped Tannen’s chin and lifted her face with a gentle touch. “And so we must not become too wild, either. The essence of Cha-Diah is to live in harmony with all things. What good is it to know the language of men and then forget it? This makes no sense. And when you are older, you cannot take the same mate as Hashiki, nor is Hashiki’s love the same as yours will be. Each must have a complete life, though together.”

  Tannen leaned forward and kissed her mother’s face, which made her mother smile.

  “And it may always be taken off,” she said in a quiet voice as she leaned in a bit. “You will see what I am saying, when the time comes. The full power of your wildest blood will always be there should you need it, or should you wish it.”

  Tannen touched the silver of her mother’s brace and felt the raised glyphs upon its surface, smooth but pronounced beneath her fingers.

  “This is why we tell the story of Gisa and his great panther, Obo. He would not take the Shou-ah, and so when Obo leaped the gap at the green river canyon, Gisa followed. And though we carry the strength of our Cha-Diah bloodlines, there are limits to what our bodies can do. And now Obo’s spirit walks the river canyon, forever in mourning. For Obo forgot that Gisa was a man, and Gisa forgot that his legs were not the legs of a panther.

  “Enoch has told you this. He may be Shaman, but I am the Loquio of the Fox People, and as a leader I know things, too. Enoch tends to the spiritual needs and the history of our people, but it has fallen to me to guide our people through each day. To be wise for those who do not take the time to do it themselves, or for those who do not see what is right for everyone. Who decides the hunting ground?”

  Tannen set a finger against her mother’s chest.

  “Yes, and who decides when to lower the walls?”

  Tannen tapped her chest again.

  “Who sings the songs of the Dog Stars on holy days?”

  Tannen smiled and tapped her mother’s chest for a third time.

  “And who tells your father it is good that you grow in your Cha-Diah strength?” Her mother raised an eyebrow. “When it was last Solstice Eve and you were to have the Shou-ah sung for you, who was it who said you might have another year, or perhaps two? Even though it will not be long now until your moonblood.”

  Tannen remembered. “You did, Mamma. You are Adal de Hinsa, Loquio of the Fox People, and you are a great woman. One day, Hashiki and
I will honor you with our speed and our sword. We shall be great warriors, and all will know that Adal de Hinsa’s daughters have come.”

  Her mother looked at her for a long time and her eyes were very bright. “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Mamma.”

  “You are welcome, my wild lynx.”

  Tannen smiled and her laughter bubbled up.

  “But this year will most likely be your time, this is what I am thinking. If your moonblood does not come by the first snow, I shall wonder if something is wrong.”

  “If this is what you are thinking, then you are right.”

  Her mother leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “Why have you let me?” Tannen asked quietly. “I do not want trouble for you.”

  Her mother seemed to consider what she would say. “Do you know, Tannen Ahru, this is the first time you have spoken in many, many weeks?”

  Tannen frowned and she returned her hand to Hashiki’s fur. “How long is many?”

  “Since the Moon of Ashira, which was before the spring rains.”

  Tannen looked at her and tried to count the days, but it was not possible. She did not think it was so, but her mother would never lie to her. “That is a long time,” she replied quietly. “But Enoch told me, what good is speaking, if you have nothing important to say? He said it was best to wait until words are needed.”

  Adal’s face took on a curious expression. “Is that what he said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I cannot argue too much with that. Though you should know, people talk for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes to give comfort, and sometimes to show love. Sometimes it is just to keep someone company, if only yourself. Words have great power, even when they do not have majik. Sometimes, they have the most power of all. A simple word may destroy a kingdom or save it, if spoken at the right moment.”

  Tannen took hold of her mother’s hand and held it firmly. “Is this not the same”—she squeezed her mother’s fingers—“as saying I am glad for you? If I kiss your cheek, does that not say I love you? And one day, when I kiss the lips of my beloved, I will use both. It will probably be needed, as I am some bit of trouble at times.”

  Adal’s smile was pure and Tannen’s heart filled with warmth. “So you are not losing your words, I see.”

  “No, Mamma.”

  “You have your father’s tongue, I am happy to say.” Adal sat back a bit. “Though your father has no words to say how pleased he is at how fast and cunning you are with the sword. He only praises the Dog Stars and smiles the smile of a river pirate who has stolen many furs.” Her mother reached out and took hold of a thick twist of golden hair. She gave it a soft tug. “A strong woman is needed for the future of our people. For the future of all people. And”—her mother tilted her head and looked beneath the table—“Hashiki was very small. We did not think she would make it for many weeks. She fought for your lives with the strength of twenty-seven cats!” Her mother spoke with great respect and love, and Tannen could hear the kiss in her words. “She is mighty beyond us all and deserved this time of freedom with you. Even the elders agreed on that.”

  “She is very brave.”

  “I know she is,” Adal agreed.

  “What would happen if I did not take my Shou-ah?”

  Her mother leaned back. “This is a deep question you ask, and it is not always known until it is known. But I will say this for now…Enoch had no Shou-ah, and his powers continue to grow. Tradition says it is only the Shaman who does this, but I am not so sure about that, in the end. For most, the Cha-Diah majik overwhelms them and they become sick, and some will die if not taken care of. They fight against their own majik, for most do not really wish to run wild forever, even though they do. The Cha-Diah majik is strong, though, and more so for some. But for others? It has not been so. Do you remember Abel?”

  “The dark-haired man with the scars on his chest?”

  “Yes. He and his great silverback wolf, they went hunting one day and have never come back. They passed beyond the wall and ran wild into the great Killy Mountains. The Fox People have not seen him for many years, though we hear that some have caught a glimpse in the high up lands.” She shrugged. “And that was as it should be, I suppose. He was always a good runner, and the silverbacks, they are their own magnificent tribe. If his body could withstand the power of their joining, his path is his own. And though the silverbacks usually want nothing from a man, for they have no need of men in the first place, he has a new tribe now. Abel was always different.

  “But many have been different through the long years. He has not been the only one. No one is forced to take the Shou-ah, though we have found that to live in the world of men, it is usually wise to have done so. I would see you have a choice in your life, Tannen. I would see you stay with the Fox People, but I would have you go if it is your wish. The Shou-ah will make going easier, if you and Hashiki wish to see the wide world.

  “Our majik can be too much for those beyond the wall. They do not understand us and they fear us. Or they hate us, like the Fakir. Not the clans upon the plains, for they have always been our friends. It will make it easier for you, and that is my wish.”

  “I will do as you say, Mamma,” Tannen said, certain of her words. “You are very wise and you love me more than anyone, even Hashiki. I want what is best for us. And I want no trouble for you among the elders.”

  Adal looked at her with the eyes of a hunter. “What do you mean?”

  “I see the way Telluk and Tall Brandis look at you. They do not like a woman in charge of our people, when they think they might do better.”

  Adal’s eyes widened slightly and then she laughed, leaning forward and taking Tannen by the face. She kissed her cheek soundly and with plenty of noise. Tannen laughed and fought her off, though before she could return the affection, her mother was up and moving to the hearth. She turned quickly back to her daughter, a second plate in her hand. “And so why have they not spoken against me?”

  Tannen started on her plate. “Because they have nothing to complain about.”

  She ate a strip of tender beef with one hand and slipped a piece beneath the table for Hashiki with the other. After a few moments her mother came and sat beside her with her own plate. Pallay moved around the table and sat close to her. “You and I should talk more, my daughter. We make a good pair.”

  Tannen’s mouth was full when she replied, “Then we will.”

  Darry reached out at the flare of light and she felt herself turning and sliding, unable to stop herself and go back. Tannen’s violent grip was upon her arm once more and held her close. She could feel the security and warmth of her mother’s strength slipping away, and Hashiki’s heartbeat was fading, as well. She still savored the familiar scent of…the scent of…

  Cecelia’s quiet laughter echoed in Darry’s mind as her own mother leaned down and handed her the fragile orchid, her green eyes bright in the light of a full moon. The warmth of her fingers brushed against Darry’s cheek.

  “Darrius…for you, my sweet girl.”

  Darry gasped for air at the sound of her name and opened her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Jessa pulled the fringed black shawl about her shoulders and stared down at the table.

  Her Boys had brought her things from the workroom, her medicine bags, her scrolls, and her many quills and papers. They had set up a second table for her, its surface overflowing with everything she could find that even hinted at the Fox People, or Radha’s handiwork, for that matter. The scrolls had been unharmed, though she had lost the autumn herbs she had collected thus far, and most of her bottles had shattered altogether. They had fixed the shutters and the window braces in quick order, and the roof had been repaired by the end of the next day. There was damage to one of the hearths, however, which Theroux said would have to wait for a week or so. She did not argue with him.

  It had been three days since Darry had disappeared into the Great Loom, if indeed that was where she w
as, and though Jessa tried, she could only concentrate on her search for a few hours at a time. Bentley had been right about the blow to her head, and though she was healing well, her eyes could only take so much.

  She touched the edge of the scroll that had taken her love away, Neela’s words in bold letters upon the weathered and ancient vellum. Jessa could still feel the depths of her rage and fear, and it was no more contained than it had been three nights ago. She could not eat, and she could only sleep when she was beyond exhaustion. Bentley had taken to sleeping upon the divan, and it was comforting to have him close. He would give her soup in the dead hours of the night and she would eat, though it was ash in her mouth. Bentley did not force her, though, and so she would eat until his fear diminished.

  She walked to the bed and sat, taking Darry’s left hand between both of hers, her lover’s flesh still warm with life. At times Darry became hot with fever, and Jessa would wipe Darry’s brow and pour willow bark tea across her lips. She would take water, and bone broth, though not nearly enough to sustain her for long.

  Hinsa prowled their rooms, or she would lie beside Darry. She would not let Jessa out of her sight, and when Jessa would sleep, Hinsa was there to watch over her.

  Neela’s spell had been made specifically for Darry or, more to the point, for Hinsa’s blood. Hinsa’s ancestor had lived on after Tannen’s death, for the child of my cherished Hashiki. It was the only way that such powerful blood majik would work, and though Jessa had only dabbled in the blood arts, she knew the rules.

  Jessa had opened the second scroll, and it was a portrait in faded colors, the face of Tannen Ahru staring back at her. It was stained by the years and the punishments of time, but it was the same woman that Jessa had seen upon the piebald stallion in the tall grass of the plains.

  She had found something hidden beneath the leather lining of Radha’s oldest trunk, and she had hacked at it with her dagger until Bentley had pulled her away. He’d been ruthless with his own blade, and he had ripped apart the entire trunk in no time at all. He seemed more content at having destroyed something, and so she had kissed his cheek and thanked him in a tender voice. He had blushed terribly, and for a brief second, she had felt like laughing.