“An old man like me!” he exclaimed. “It’s a silly notion; and well-nigh impossible, anyway.”
“Perhaps. But I cannot help you to do it, and I cannot help them.” She gestured to the children. “I have done them enough harm, and I will do them no more. Now I have my own business to set upon; and I will follow it through, as I failed to do so many years ago.” She grew reflective. “You know, Andrew – I think that that may be why I could never live a real life, here with you in this house. There is a life that I left unfinished; and until that is set right, I will never find peace. Perhaps I never shall. But I will try; and that is the one thing I never did.”
She took her suitcase up in her hand, and started from the room.
“What shall I tell the children?” asked Andrew, his eyes fixed pitifully upon the floor. He hung his head and was utterly dejected; but Helena’s resolve was such that those things did nothing to hinder her actions. She looked back at him and said, “Tell them that I have gone away. But tell them that they will always be able to find me, if ever they decide that they need me.”
Andrew nodded, but said nothing else. Helena took that as her opportunity to leave, and departed from the house without a single reservation.
The night was already dark and cold, with a bitter wind that was kicking up the fresh powder upon the ground. Helena went briskly to the roadside, and began walking South towards Helfadt.
XXiV: Three Departures
Though there was no way to tell through the thick walls of ancient, windowless rock, Jade knew that night had come, when she woke from her deep slumber of the day. She was roused each evening by the coming of the dusk, and her eyes grew wide and she could rest no more. She looked all around for Zana, and was relieved when she found that the room was empty. She rolled off of the great bed, and rose slowly upon shaking legs.
The chandelier burnt just below the ceiling, casting its deathly glow upon the sparkling stone walls. What with the fact that the door blended so completely into the wall, and considering that she had been half out of her mind when she was led to the room, Jade spent a few uneasy minutes searching for the exit. Her blurred vision helped very little; but she came to the door in the end, and escaped the room gratefully.
She stepped carefully into the hall, and was flooded once again by darkness. None of the corridors contained lights of any kind; and Jade’s vision was still not as good, as that of the others who walked those halls. She could make out the faint outlines of certain things, and could to some extent detect (as she felt along the smooth wall to her right), the bodies that were walking on the left. Ever and anon, one of them would knock her down; but she rose up after each occasion, and pressed on with some fervour, winding her way through the dark and frozen corridors.
After about an hour of such hopeless ambling, she fell upon such a stroke of incredible luck, that she could hardly believe it was hers. She had been felled once again, and felt that this time her weary, shaking legs would not perform the action of raising her back up to full height.
But then she heard a voice to the left of her, and turned her head in fear; for she recognised the sound of it, and could indeed place its owner. She struggled on more hurriedly, this time crawling forward.
“We meet again, witch,” said Pesha, reaching down to heave Jade upwards by the collar. “And in such a lonely place.”
At this moment, she had not yet begun to feel the touch of her luck. She was only afraid for her life (strangely enough), and was trying weakly to resist the pull of Pesha’s arm.
“Don’t be frightened,” said Pesha. “If we try, you see, I think that the two of us might come to some sort of an agreement.”
Jade went stiff, listening to the creature’s lowered voice with all her might. Just the fact that she was whispering gave Jade some confidence; for if she had been saying anything of detriment to her opponent (which would no doubt have been agreeable to any of her kind), she would have cried it out for all to hear. No – it was something else happening here.
“You want not to be here any more than I want you to be here,” said Pesha. “It is only for the Sorceress that this atrocity has been committed. If it had been up to me, I would have killed you while you lay in the forest, and devoured you as my night meal. But no – that was not to be, and cannot be now, if I do not expect to be executed for it. So I will do myself one better, and set you free. No doubt you will do enough harm to the ones you care about once you find them. I wish I could bear witness to the havoc you wreak – but I shall simply have to settle, for now, to imagining it. I will no doubt hear about it, if it is quite as terrible as I suspect it will be.”
Jade did not heed very many of her words, and in fact only registered the fragment “set you free.” Her heart began to rise at that, and she became so entangled in thoughts of escape, that she could scarcely give ear to the remainder of Pesha’s speech. Yet she walked with the help of Pesha’s arm, for rather a long distance, until finally they stopped, at a place which Jade of course had no sight of.
“I shall open the East entrance for you,” said Pesha. “Through it you were brought into the Mountain; and through it you shall depart. It is only used, you know, for the passing of humans into the halls. Otherwise, of course, we only shift.”
There came the sound of Pesha’s sharp fingernails against the rock; and then the sound of that rock, as it began to shift in its placement to the wall of the Mountain. After a little, Jade felt a breath of the cold night wind, stirring against her face; and she knew that an exit had been opened unto her.
“Be quick,” hissed Pesha. “If it becomes known that I let you go, I will be killed more surely than your next unfortunate meal. As I believe that it is the castle of Eredor you are seeking, and you are no doubt more than a little disoriented, I shall direct your path –” (she took hold of Jade’s shoulders, and turned her entire body to the right, afterwards pushing her from the Mountain) “– and you will hurry forth in this direction as rapidly as you can. Now, begone with you! Do not let anyone catch you. Even if you cannot yet shift your body with the shifting of your mind, you still should be exceptionally fast. And remember this above all things: do not mention my name in relation to your escape! Now hurry forth!”
Jade did as she was bid, and went running South as quickly as she was able, upon her legs which still lacked so much strength. The world was dark, but was lit by a blanket of stars high above; and these illuminated her path, showing her the places where her feet would fall, just before they lighted there. She was so thrilled to be free of the mountain, and of her persistent lack of vision, that she went nearly skipping through the shallow snow. The earth was showing in great green and brown spots. She held her face up to the sky as she ran, and felt that she was almost flying; so fast were her feet, trees passed to either side in a blur of dark colour.
Travelling at so great a speed, she tired quickly, and had no choice but to find a dry place beneath a tree bole, and settle herself there for a time. She curled up like a sick dog, shivering against the bitter wind.
She was very near asleep when she felt the first raindrops upon her face. They fell down into her place of shelter, and found a way to soak her skin, even through the protection of the great tree trunk. She raised her arms before her face to keep them away, and laid her head upon the cold ground. Despite her uncomfortable circumstance, she dropped quickly into slumber, and slept the sleep of sickness through the chill hours of the night.
Though she was growing almost unbearably hungry, she pushed the feeling down into the deepest parts of her, ignoring it as one without a tourniquet would ignore the severing of an arm, and the fountain of blood which would issue forth from the injury. She tried to look past the fountain, and started and slept all through the night, her bones having grown so cold that their pain gave way to numbness. She feared that, when she stood, they would shatter like so much glass. There was a deep illness, of both heart and body, that had come to take hold of her; and she felt that she could hardly
move; never mind rise from the frozen ground.
When she woke in the morning, the bright sunlight lent some of its strength to her weak body; and in its warm solace, with the help of the tree under which she had made her bed, she rose stumbling to her feet.
She looked forth into the gathering light, and set off again South.
~
After he had completed his morning chores, David went back to the house to find his father still in bed. He was not feeling well this day, and had spoken earlier of a fierce pain that had come to take hold of his chest, and of his heart. He had had these pains before; and had indeed spent many days bound to his bed, whereupon the day after his sickness he most always insisted that his health had recovered, and went about his business despite the objections of his son.
But this day was different; this day was worse. Since he heard of Jade’s curious circumstance, and understood that she was missing from her home, his pains came more frequently. The uncertainty he felt concerning his daughter was driving his health into a dark an ugly place, and he could often do little but sit up against his pillows, and sip at the soup that David brought him.
Knowing that his father would not grow well till Jade returned, David felt that his hand had finally been forced. He went to the doctor, and asked him to check on old Jum once a day; and then went across the way to Mrs Gylthie, and requested, for the health of his poor father, to go over and bring him his vittles each day. She readily agreed, for she had always been fond of old Jum, especially since her own husband died, ten years prior.
“Pa,” said David finally, entering his father’s room with a pack slung across his back. “I’m going today.”
“Going? Where are ye going?”
“To find Jade.”
“That’s a good lad,” said Jum. “I knew ye would.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” said David. “But old Doc Hobbs will come and see you every day; and Mrs Gylthie will bring you your vittles.” He looked worriedly into his father’s face, all cast over with sickness and shadow as it was. “You will be all right, won’t you, Pa?”
“I will be,” said Jum, “once ye bring my Jade back to me. Go an’ find her, David; an’ everything can be as it was.”
“I shall do my best, Pa. I promise you that.”
“Well, that’s all a man can do,” said Jum. “An’ ye’re a right good man, David. I always knew that; an’ maybe I should’ve told ye a little more often. I am proud o’ ye, David – prouder than I can say, that ye’re my own son.”
“Thanks, Pa,” said David. He went to the bed to kiss his father’s cheek. Then he pressed his hand, and offered him a last smile, before he turned to set off on the course of his adventure.
~
After sleeping quite as much as she was able, Lila packed herself a bag, and decked herself out in her travel gear. She left her chamber in a state of disarray, with various articles of clothing strewn upon the floor betwixt the closet and the bed. The bed itself stood as if struck by a storm, with the bedclothes hanging down to the floor, having been disturbed by Lila’s involuntary and unconscious tossing all through the night. She pulled the curtains against the morning light, casting the room into darkness.
She quite intended to leave the castle, without a word to anyone (save for her mother, of course, with whom she had already – and perhaps unwisely – spoken) concerning her destination.
The truth was that she had never intended to bring any soldiers with her to Ademin; or rather, that she had never meant to go there at all. The entire purpose of the meeting had been only to make Ademin seem her destination. Now, when she did not return when she ought, all would think that she had gone to Ademin alone. She had even been careful to utter the name of the place, when she spoke with Abella.
But her true plan was quite different. After she left Húnama, she would go on her own way to the place where the locating of a Lumarian was inevitable.
She would go to Death Rock.
Tangled and confused as her thoughts were, with this perilous plan in mind, they were stilled for a moment, as she passed the open doorway to Heidi Bastian’s chamber. She heard voices within, and paused her step to listen, as they were raised rather above what seemed normal for an indoor conversation.
“There is only one reason we are still here,” said Dera Black, her words issuing forth as angry, tempered things, hot and hard as projectiles of coal. “You still want to find Jade; and you think that she is bound to come here. But what if she doesn’t? What if she has gone off on her own, to find the Sorceress? Suppose she’s done that, Heidi – what then?”
“And what would you have me do?” asked Heidi, her voice filled with both desperation and fury; both uncertainty and misery.
“I would have you come away with me from this place,” said Dera.
“You heard what the Princess said. This is the only place that offers us any kind of protection at all.”
“Oh, what does she know? She is nothing but a spoiled little girl, caught up in her own world – too concerned with her own affairs to see anything past the end of her own nose.”
Lila felt her mouth harden at these words, but resisted the impulse to speak aloud at such offence.
What an ungrateful little wench.
“That’s not true, Dera,” said Heidi, speaking quietly; as if in an attempt to cover Dera’s words with her own caution. “She is the only one who can help us.”
“Help us?” said Dera. “What has she done to help us? We have spoken with her only twice; and either time she has had nothing very helpful to say. Why do we not run from here, and hide ourselves someplace? Someplace Dain Aerca would not think to look?”
“She thinks to look everywhere, Dera. That is why we have to stay.” She paused. “And were you not the one who was so very grateful, when the Princess allowed us to remain here in the castle? What has changed since then?”
“Nothing has changed. I’ve only thought more about it.”
“More about what?”
Dera let out a great huffing breath. “I am so tired of this!” she cried, stamping her foot upon the floor. “I am tired of this place, where I feel as nothing but a sitting duck. I am tired of you, and of your ulterior motives!”
“Lower your voice,” Heidi commanded; and she sounded so very stern, Dera spoke next with a softer, but no less irritated, tone.
“If you wish to wait for Jade,” she said, “I shan’t remain to see what becomes of it. Have you considered the possibility, Heidi, that she is already dead? She is reckless and prideful – and more likely than not, she has gotten herself killed!”
There was a resounding echo throughout the chamber and the hall, as Heidi brought her hand down across Dera’s face. “How dare you!” she hissed. “You have absolutely no right. Do you know, Dera? I am tired of you, as well. And I won’t argue with you anymore. Go on your own way, if that’s what you want! I’ll not be coming with you.”
Lila heard Dera’s thudding footfalls upon the floor, and backed quickly into the middle of the corridor, so that it might appear as though she had not yet even reached the door to the chamber. But there was really no need. Dera issued out into the hall in such a storm of fury, she saw nothing past the lightning bolts that struck out from her own eyes.
When Dera had hid herself in her own chamber, Lila moved carefully back to the doorway. She could hear the faint sound, even from where she stood, of Heidi’s laboured breathing; and decided, against her self-made promise of departure without delay, to knock upon the open door.
Heidi seemed startled by the announcement of her presence. Her head snapped up, and her eyes grew round; and she stared at Lila for a moment, as if she did not know her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rising from the bed. “I was only thinking rather deeply.”
“Are you all right?” asked Lila, truly concerned for the woman’s uncertain state of mind.
“I’m not sure,” said Heidi, though she smiled thinly and put up as brav
e a front as she seemed able. “I suppose you heard at least the last bit of that row?”
“Not particularly,” Lila lied. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”
Heidi shook her head. She sat again upon the bed, and Lila sat beside her; and
though she felt, again, the urgency of her errand, she remained a few minutes in silence.
“What are you thinking of?” she asked finally.
“I am thinking of far too many things at once,” said Heidi. “I cannot put any of it into words.”
“You may feel better, if you try.”
Heidi squeezed her hands together till her knuckles turned white; and then released them, so that they returned to the normal colour of flesh. She did this several times, obviously attempting to gain confidence with each round, but seeming not to find enough to say what she wished.
She looked back to Lila, and noticed the bag down by her feet. “Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“I am,” said Lila. “I’ve an errand to make, and will be gone for some days.”
“I see,” said Heidi, who looked somewhat disappointed to hear this bit of news. “And you don’t mind us remaining here in your absence?”
“Of course not.”
“I should really only say me,” Heidi went on. “It seems that Dera may leave.”
“On her own?” asked Lila, eager not to seem as though she had overheard their conversation.
“Perhaps.”
“I suppose I need not say that it is unwise.”
“You needn’t – but if she decides to go, I cannot make her stay.”
“I suppose you can’t.”
They fell quiet again; and though Lila would have liked to speak with her longer (for it seemed that her mind was at great unrest), she could think of nothing more to say. So she stood and collected her bag, and Heidi rose beside her.
“Have a safe journey,” said Heidi, attempting a small smile in spite of her apparent misery.
Broken Earth Page 29
