Wildwood Dancing

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Wildwood Dancing Page 31

by Juliet Marillier


  “Iulia,” I ventured, “you remember when Costi first changed back into a man, and you said if it were a story I’d have to grovel to get him back? Was that what you meant—ash and rags and mysterious gifts?”

  “I suppose it might work,” Iulia said doubtfully. “Are you saying you’re actually prepared to try now?”

  I took a deep breath. “I might be,” I said. “If I can work out the best way to do it. Costi’s not the sort to respond to a gold ring. And you know I’m not the groveling type. But there must be a way to show him that—that—”

  “That you love him?” Tati whispered.

  I felt my cheeks flush red. “Well, yes,” I admitted. “I’m terrified of going to see him. Why hasn’t he invited us to Vǎrful cu Negurǎ? If he’s forgiven me, why hasn’t he come to see me?”

  “He loves you, Jena.” Tati was too weak to lift her head, but she turned her eyes to meet mine. “You must know that in your heart.”

  “He needs to know he can trust you,” Iulia said. “That if something bad happens in the future, you won’t let go again.”

  “I’ve already broken two promises,” I said. “I told him I’d never leave him behind, and then I did. First to find Tati, then all by himself in the forest, with no voice. If I promise again, why should he believe me?”

  Paula was thinking, her chin in her hand. “He shouldn’t be so hard on you,” she said. “When you wouldn’t accept that he was Costi, you were just being careful. That was reasonable enough, considering all the things that had happened. Surely he hasn’t forgotten that you protected him and loved him and put him first for nine whole years. That can’t be wiped out in a single day.”

  “But it was,” I said.

  “Remind him.” Tati’s voice was like a leaf stirred in the wind. “Remind him how things were.”

  “And show him they haven’t really changed,” said Iulia.

  “Do it while you’ve got the courage,” Paula added. “Go tomorrow. One of you has to take the first step.”

  “It’s too soon. I’m not ready.” My heart was pounding; it was as if I’d been asked to fight a dragon single-handed. I got up and fetched a glass of water.

  “Jena,” said Tati, “I want you to talk … Costi. To be … happy. I want you … go … before Full Moon.…”

  “That’s not very long,” I protested. “Only five days. And I haven’t worked out how to do it yet.” But a plan was forming in my mind, for Paula’s story had reminded me that Costi loved games.

  “Go … soon.”

  The look in Tati’s eyes frightened me. It was a farewell, and it seemed to me it did not mean she believed Full Moon would see her safe and happy, either in our world or the Other Kingdom.

  “Tati, stay with us,” I said. “Wait for Sorrow. It would break his heart if he came for you and …” I could not put this into words.

  “You think he’s all right?” Her voice was a plea. “You really believe he’ll come back?”

  “I do believe it, Tati. I’ve seen how he looks at you, how he touches you. You’re his whole world. The quest is difficult, yes. All the same, I think Ileana wants him to succeed. Don’t lose hope. Sorrow will come for you—I know it.”

  “So you do believe … true love?” she whispered.

  I took a deep breath. “I think I have to,” I said, blinking back tears. “Without it, we’re all going nowhere.”

  “Then talk to Costi.… Go tomorrow.…” Her eyes closed.

  I tried. In the morning I put on my outdoor boots and went down to breakfast, fully intending to make my way to Vǎrful cu Negurǎ as soon as I’d eaten. What I would say to Costi was not yet clear in my head. My whole body was strung tight; my nerves were jangling.

  “Your cup’s rattling, Jena,” said Florica, looking at me closely. “Are you quite well?”

  “I’m fine.” I tried for a casual tone. “I thought I might go up to Vǎrful cu Negurǎ today and visit Costi, since the weather’s improved so much.”

  “Your aunt would like to see you, I’m sure,” Florica said, “but Master Costin’s not there, Jena. The word is he’s gone off down the valley for a couple of nights.”

  “A couple of nights,” I echoed, the tension draining from my body to be replaced by bitter disappointment. It had taken all my courage to decide to go and face him. “When is he expected back, Florica?”

  Florica’s eyes sharpened. “Before Full Moon, I expect,” she said. “Why not go up and ask your aunt Bogdana?”

  “No, I … It’s Costi I need to talk to. Florica, could Petru arrange for someone at Vǎrful cu Negurǎ to let us know as soon as Costi comes home? Right away?”

  “I expect so, Jena. So you won’t be going up today?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll go when he’s back home. I just hope it’s soon.”

  It suddenly seemed urgent to speak to him before Full Moon, to be able to prove to Tati that happy endings were possible in real life, as in tales. If I sorted out my own problem, I thought, the solution to my sister’s might fall into place, too. There was no great logic to this. After all, I was the one who had refused to recognize true love when it was no farther away than my own pocket. I knew I needed his help. Hurry up, Costi, I urged him silently. Come home. I need you.

  The sun set beyond the colored windows four more times, and inside our chamber the stories went on. Not all were joyful tales; we needed to acknowledge that love was not just kisses, smiles, and fulfillment, but also sacrifice, compromise, and hard work. Tati hung on. My promise to mend things with Costi had awakened a fragile hope in her. She swallowed water obediently, but would not eat. She submitted to sponge baths and let Stela brush and plait her hair. All the same, I saw what a shadow she had become. When the sun rose on the eve of Full Moon and there was still no word of Costi’s return, despair began to creep into my heart.

  Tati awoke restless and confused. She kept asking me whether I had talked to Costi yet and what he had said. She would not be calmed. When Iulia tried to begin another story, Tati whispered that she didn’t want to hear any more and closed her eyes. Iulia retreated to her bed with shaking shoulders. When I went over to her, I heard her whispering to herself, “First Mother, then Father, now Tati; I can’t bear it.” I tried to comfort her, murmuring that Father was not dead yet and neither was Tati, that things could change, that she must be brave. It wasn’t much help; the two of us ended up in tears together.

  At breakfast, Petru told me that Costi was expected home sometime today. “Stopped for the night down at Judge Rinaldo’s house. The word is he’s riding on up to Vǎrful cu Negurǎ this morning.”

  This morning. There might be time, if I was quick.

  “Jena,” said Paula quietly, “just get your bag and go. I know you have your things ready. Go now. We’ll look after Tati.”

  “Going up to see Master Costi today?” queried Florica, eyes knowing. “I’ll pack you some provisions. It doesn’t do to get hungry out in the woods.”

  “I’m not sure if I should go.” Instinct pulled me powerfully in the direction of Vǎrful cu Negurǎ, but common sense made it hard to leave home. How could I possibly go, with my sister so ill and the night of Full Moon almost upon us? If she slipped away from us while I was gone, I could never forgive myself.

  “Yes, you should,” said Stela. “That’s what Tati wants.”

  “Florica,” I said, “could you pack up exactly what I used to take when Gogu and I went out in summer?”

  “It’s hardly the weather for outdoor cooking,” muttered Florica, but she was already gathering a little bag of flour, an egg, some butter, and a twist of salt. She wrapped them neatly in a cloth. “Here you are, then. Go carefully. Put a couple of cloves of garlic in your pocket, Jena. It may be daylight, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing lurking out there. And keep away from the Deadwash.”

  Upstairs, I told Tati where I was going and why. She showed a flicker of interest; I had to hope it would be enough to get her through the day. Then I put on my g
reen gown and packed Florica’s provisions in my knapsack, on top of various other items I had ready: a bowl, a spoon, my little frying pan, a flint.

  “Wait,” said Paula as I began to fasten the strap around the bag. My younger sisters were standing there in a row, each of them holding something.

  “We thought,” said Iulia, “that as this is a bit like a quest, you’d need magical objects to take with you.”

  “This was the closest we could get,” Paula added. She held out a small box. I opened it to reveal a quill, a tiny pot of ink, and three miniature squares of parchment. “We’ve each chosen something special; imagine you’re taking us all with you to help.”

  Stela gave me a green ribbon, and Iulia her rabbit-skin hat. On the verge of tears, I stumbled over words of thanks as I put on the hat and packed the other gifts in the bag.

  “It’s all right,” Paula said, grinning. “We know you appreciate us, even if you’ve been too busy to say it much recently.”

  Tati was too weak to find me a token, but Iulia brought out her sewing scissors and snipped a few hairs from the head of each sister, me included. These she twisted into a little ring. She tucked the knotted ends in and put it on my finger. “Sisters and friends,” she said. “We know you’re doing this for Tati as well as yourself. We’re all willing you to succeed.”

  It was a long walk up to Vǎrful cu Negurǎ. I did have a plan, but exactly how to act on it was far from clear. I needed to see Costi without the rest of his household knowing. I must get as close to the house as possible, then hope an opportunity would present itself.

  Where would he go after a long ride? Would he take his own horse to the stables, or get a groom to do it? If he went off to bathe and rest, I would have to change the plan. There was a secluded spot I thought I might use, down by the orchard; it was close to the stables, but not close enough to be spotted by the grooms and other folk who worked there. I just had to get there before Costi came home.

  As I walked briskly through the forest, I had the sense that I was being watched. I’d catch a flash of movement behind a holly bush or a gleam of bright eyes amid the thick needles of a pine, following my progress. It made me feel better. Drǎguţa’s plans were big ones; she had been shaping our lives since we were little children. It was easy to believe my small quest today was linked to Tati’s ordeal and Sorrow’s; that the folk of the Other Kingdom were watching me and Costi as closely as they were my sister and the young man in the black coat. Something would be decided today, one way or another.

  The day was half gone before I reached the outskirts of Vǎrful cu Negurǎ. My stomach was churning again; in my imagination, Costi looked at me with bitterness and turned his back. Trust your instincts, I reminded myself. And trust your sisters. Without them, you wouldn’t have made it this far.

  At the far end of the leafless orchard there was an old stone bench crusted with moss. I unpacked my knapsack, gazing between the bare branches at the stable building and, beyond it, the house itself. It was an expansive place, the walls of mellow stone, the roof red-tiled. In springtime the birches that grew close to the house would wrap it in a silvery, whispering cloak. Smoke rose from the chimneys; Aunt Bogdana was home, but I could not see her until I had spoken to Costi. If he and I could not sort out our differences, I did not think I would be coming here again. It would be too painful. Even now, I felt sick at the thought of seeing him.

  I was glad of the rabbit-skin hat. Spring had barely begun, and I did not know how long I might have to wait in the cold. I took out Stela’s ribbon; on it, I threaded the seedpod in the shape of a heart, which had lain in my storage chest since the day Gogu gave me his token of love and I dismissed it with a patronizing comment. I tied it around my neck.

  I began to gather fallen wood for a fire. Stacking it methodically, I spotted something small and bright lodged in a crack of a splintery old branch. I fished it out, and a smile came to my lips. I was certain now that someone from the Other Kingdom was helping my quest along. I placed the tiny item carefully with my other things and returned to the fire, with knife and flint in hand.

  I was well practiced at building campfires, for Gogu and I had spent many long summer days out in the woods. Once the stack of wood was burning well, I opened Florica’s bundle and began to mix my ingredients in the little bowl. One essential item I had gathered on the way through the forest: a handful of fresh pondweed.

  The sun moved overhead behind the clouds. The day passed, and I grew colder and more nervous. I stamped up and down, and clapped my hands together to keep warm. Nobody seemed to be about; the smoke from my little fire had not attracted attention. Perhaps the folk of the house thought someone was burning rubbish. I began to wonder whether Costi had decided not to come home today after all. Then I thought maybe he had already been in the house when I arrived, and that I would have to knock on the front door and think of something to say. The light changed. I judged it to be mid-afternoon, and I still had to walk all the way home. I must be there before dusk: it was the night of Full Moon. Whatever happened, Tati needed me.

  Come on, Costi. Perhaps if I put the pan on the fire and started cooking, it would somehow make him appear. I set it over the embers, dropped in a pat of butter, and listened to it sizzling. When it was hot enough, I poured in the contents of the bowl and watched until bubbles began to rise through the miniature pancake. As I flipped it, I heard the sound of approaching horses. My little bit of magic had worked—he was home.

  They rode up to the stables: Costi and two well-dressed men whom I did not know. They dismounted. A groom came out to lead all three horses inside. Stay, I willed my cousin. I slipped the pancake onto the platter I had brought and decorated it with a garnish of pondweed.

  They stood there, talking awhile. I stood watching, a bundle of tension, with my little gift in my hands. Games were all very well, but sometimes the effort of playing them was almost too much. Then the three of them headed off toward the house. Short of calling out to him, there was nothing I could do about it. Now what? Walk in and accost him, in front of his guests? I could imagine his face, embarrassed and awkward; I could see the look of disdain in his eyes.

  The groom came back out of the stables with bucket in hand, heading for the well. I seized what was perhaps my last chance.

  “Excuse me.”

  He started, then bobbed his head. “Mistress Jena! Shall I tell the mistress you’re here?”

  I dredged my memory for his name. “No, Geza, I don’t want her knowing—not yet. I need your help. You may think it’s a little odd, but I have a job for you.”

  “Of course, Mistress Jena. But I must water the horses first.”

  The pancake was still warm when he got back. There was a certain curiosity in his eyes, perhaps sparked by the story of the girl and the frog that everyone in the valley had been discussing over the last few weeks.

  “Take this to Master Costin,” I said. “Make sure he gets it. I know he has guests, but you must disturb him, even if he’s busy. Don’t tell him who this is from. If he gives you a message, bring it straight back. If he doesn’t, come back anyway.”

  “Yes, Mistress Jena.” He held the platter with the utmost care.

  “Thank you, Geza. I know it seems a little strange.”

  I waited, pacing up and down, too keyed up to be still for long. It was getting late. I imagined Sorrow, a cup of water balanced in one hand, a little bundle on his back, running, running, eyes burning with determination in his chalk-white face. I saw Tati as she had stood in Dancing Glade, frail as a birch in winter, her words an iron-strong declaration of faith. I thought of Costi eyeing my gift with a sad smile and turning his back. Trust, I told myself. This is Gogu, remember: your best beloved.

  It seemed forever, but at last Geza appeared again, hands shoved under his arms to keep warm. The light was fading already; sparks from my fire spiraled upward, like tiny wild dancers.

  “Did you give it to him?” I grabbed his shoulders, then made myself let go. �
�What did he say? Why did you take so long?”

  “He has two merchants from Braşov with him, Mistress Jena. I couldn’t go straight in—”

  “I said to disturb him!” I snapped, then relented at the look on his face. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have to be home tonight, and it’s getting late.” I knew I should be setting off right now, if I was to be certain of reaching Piscul Dracului before dark. “Any message?”

  “No, Mistress Jena.”

  “Nothing at all?” My heart plummeted.

  “Well, he did eat it all up, even the green part. I think he liked it.” Geza sounded astonished.

  I breathed again. Hope was not lost, after all. “Thank you,” I said. “Will you take this to him now?” I gave him the item I had found earlier. It was the discarded carapace of a beetle, iridescent green and shaped like a heart. “Please be as quick as you can. Here, take this quill and parchment, too.” Maybe those were a heavy hint, but I had to speed things up somehow.

  I waited again. My heart seemed to sound out Sorrow’s footsteps as he made his desperate way back toward Dancing Glade. I thought of my sister, so weak she could barely lift her head from the pillow. Stay with us, Tati, I willed her. Keep faith with him. And I wondered whether I should forget my own dreams and run home now so I could be by her side, but my feet did not want to carry me away from the quiet orchard and the plume of smoke from my little fire.

  “Come on, Costi,” I muttered, wiping out the frying pan and starting to put things away in my pack, “meet me halfway, can’t you?”

  This time Geza was much quicker, and he brought me a note, scrawled on the tiny square of parchment I had sent. It read: Don’t good things generally come in threes?

  I felt a big smile spread across my face. Costi was prepared to play. Geza had brought back Paula’s quill. Dipping it in the ink pot, I wrote: If you want the third one, you’ll have to come and find me.

  “Right away,” I urged Geza. “Please take this to him right away. How did he look?”

 

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