by Linn Tesli
Everine made a mental note to map all the lookouts in case she would need to use them in the future. The space was designed to lie in the shadows and was an excellent hideout. It would allow a perfect view of any action while keeping oneself out of sight.
Rolf took her arm and led her gently away from the light to show her to a stone bench where she could rest and feed Ayva. Rolf sat where a couple of big rocks faced outwards by the mouth of the cave.
Left in darkness, Everine placed Ayva at her chest and cooed. “Drink, my love, and rest, for I am not sure what lies before us after this day is done.” She looked up. Beams of colors danced within rays of sunlight on the walls. Her eyes could not escape the wonders of the chasm.
“Your home is like nothing I have ever seen. It is magnificent,” she said to Rolf.
Rolf stretched his arms over his head and yawned audibly. “I guess. It’s a true masterpiece, but it is ever the same. Most of us spend our entire lives down here.” He paused for a moment of sentiment. “We rarely get visitors like you. The days roll by, and we simply roll with them. Though there has been talk lately.” His body jiggled excitedly, and he twirled his fingers around a chunk of his thick curls. “Rumors. Most exciting stuff I have heard in—well—ever.”
Everine put her cloak back on, cradled Ayva in her arms, and joined Rolf. She placed a hand over his for reassurance.
“Tell me about it, please?”
Rolf started to speak but shut his mouth and scratched his scalp vigorously. “I really shouldn’t. I mean…I don’t think I should. It’s probably not even true.” He stayed silent for a short while, but he was clearly having a hard time containing the thoughts in his head.
“Okay, Lady Everine. I don’t think you should read much into this. I think, well, what they are saying is that our combat training is not just training anymore—it is proper battle practice, you know? We are practicing more offensive moves than ever. Get it? They are preparing us for war—and a bloody one at that. Leave no prisoners and whatnot. Good thing my father is the lead bowman of the Ahddamssons archers.” He wore a look of pride.
Everine had a hard time suppressing the foreboding that rose within her. She swallowed her fears.
“What war?”
Rolf tapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword.
“They say—that is, she says, that the Silverlings will eventually march on Bermunnos. You know, to claim it for the Heartless King. According to her, we still have years to practice, though.”
Everine tried to make sense of his words. Even with the threat of war, she and Ayva could hide in Bermunnos for a while. It would be easier to leave once Ayva was older.
“She, who? Why now? He has left the Earthlings alone for so long, and now he has decided to strike? It doesn’t make sense, does it?” she asked.
Rolf stared at her incredulously. “Doesn’t it?” Expectantly, he looked down and caught sight of Ayva, and his eyes widened at the images of rocks and soil reflected in hers.
8
The Bermunnos Council
- Everine -
“Ev, time to go.”
Birken’s warm hand brushed Everine’s arm, and she struggled to open her eyes. The night had been filled with her usual dreams of blood, this time with dead bodies scattered across the many levels within the chasm.
Everine had only just fallen asleep again when Birken woke her. It was the morning after they first arrived in Bermunnos. Pulling Ayva tighter to her, she squinted.
“Give me a minute, would you?” she snapped.
“I’ll give you two, but then we must go.” Birken raised an eyebrow.
She scowled. “No, Ayva must eat first.”
“You’re really not a morning person, Ev. Very well, of course.” He sighed and stepped outside to wait for her there.
Everine sat in the bed she had been provided with, allowing Ayva her first meal of the day. The small house was surprisingly welcoming, which was a comfort after the night she’d had. It might not be so bad to have a place like this one. Ayva would need something warm and secure, and Everine was tired of running.
A painting hung right above the stone desk on the opposite side of the bedroom. In it, waves crashed onto a shore where Siren banners featuring Njord’s trident swayed in the wind.
A furry tail flashed by for the briefest moment within the frame. Everine shook her head and rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Whatever she thought she had seen was gone. She must have had less sleep than she was even aware.
She changed Ayva’s soiled cloth, combed her own hair, and threw on her new gold-colored dress. Rolf had presented it to her the night before. He had given her a lecture, of the more amiable sort, on why he thought she should wear something more ladylike when she went to meet with the council.
Everine couldn’t say she disagreed. It would be rude to show up at a formal meeting looking like she had when they arrived. The dress was cut from soft silk, falling in gentle waves to frame her body and featured long sleeves and a high neckline. With no one there to see her, Everine twirled once, hugging Ayva close to her as the skirt swung out around her.
She put the baby in the basket where she had slept and picked it up. She pinched her cheeks, blinked at her reflection in the mirror, and was ready.
Birken walked beside her in silence as they crossed a bridge and then descended a stone staircase leading to their destination. Once they arrived at an entranceway to the central platform, Birken took Everine’s hand in his and stopped.
The corners of his mouth twitched from side to side before he said, “There are three more members of the council besides myself and Frida. Thorleif is the one we need to worry about. He’s very protective of our chasm, and he’s not fond of outsiders.”
Everine sighed. “At least he has his peoples’ interests in mind, right? What about the two other members?”
“Yes. There’s our wise woman, Sol, and the council’s foreman, Ragnar.”
“Wait—Sol is a witch?”
“Not a practicing one. She’s exceedingly sharp, too. And don’t use that term here—you know, ‘witch.’” Birken shuddered. “They come as a pair, by the way—Sol and Ragnar. If you sway one, you’ll have the other’s vote as well.” Birken hesitated. “I want you to know that whatever is said, I’m on your side.” He averted his face.
Everine studied him. Why would he need to reassure her of something she had not questioned? It left her uneasy.
Birken cleared his throat. “Also, you must allow the council members to really meet Ayva, like I did. Let them look into her eyes.”
Everine crossed her arms and took a step back. “What have you told them? You made us a promise.”
Facing down, he dug his left foot into the ground.
“I told them nothing they didn’t already know, Ev. Please, I’m on your side.”
Everine lifted her chin and strutted past Birken toward the platform.
With her hands clasped behind her back and Ayva in the basket at her feet, Everine faced the members of the council. She was determined to make a good impression. No matter what Rolf had said, Bermunnos was by far her best option. She was determined to convince the council to allow them to stay.
The man in the center, who she gathered must be Ragnar, had sandy-colored, sun-bleached hair, which lay braided close to his head in bold geometrical patterns.
He wore an impressive amount of jewelry studded with gems. As with the rest of the Earthlings, however, his remaining attire was minimal. Only a black leather, open-chested tunic and a pair of breeches accompanied the heavy golden ornaments. The ensemble showcased his sculpted muscles.
Ondox discreetly lifted a wing to hide his face and winked at Everine from his place on the edge of the platform.
Beside the five tall chairs sat a few smaller, plainer ones. In one sat an Earthling who was scrawny by Earthling standards. His back was straight and his chin tight. To his right was a cloaked figure bent over a small, round table. There was no way to tell who hid
underneath the folds of cloth.
Everine poised herself and waited. Rolf had explained to her how the council worked. If she were to speak out of turn, it might influence them to vote against her interests. She remained silent.
Ragnar lifted his eyes. They were of different colors—one gold, one chocolate brown. He raised his chin, beckoning to someone behind Everine. Within seconds, Rolf appeared by her side with a chair. The young Ahddamsson winked at her as he set the chair down, then retreated to one of the entry points nearby. Everine gathered the fabric of her dress and sat. She crossed her legs and placed the basket with Ayva in her lap behind her folded hands.
Everine answered every look she was given with forced assurance. Rolf had told her that the Earthlings did not favor those who were weak or indecisive. Of course, neither did they appreciate insubordination or actions taken on a whim. When she had silently greeted the entire council, Ragnar opened the meeting.
“Welcome, Everine Vargens of Beregend. The fate of the gryphons has already been decided upon. Today, we are here to exchange views and pass judgement on the matter of whether or not you will be allowed to join our society. This, of course, includes your child.” He angled his chin curiously at the basket in Everine’s lap. “That is, unless you wish to be judged individually?” He turned his palms up.
Everine could not believe he had asked her such a question. The idea of being separated from Ayva was unimaginable, and yet, she had to consider if Ayva might be better off if the council decided only she could stay. Birken would take good care of her. She glanced at her child and the decision was made for her. Ayva needed a human mother, and whatever happened they should stay together. She squared her shoulders. “Where she goes, I go.”
Ragnar inclined his head. “Very well. We will pass only one judgement this day.” He introduced the other members, excluding the two nameless strangers who sat beside the council.
The scrawny Earthling had equipped himself with a set of tools. He used a small hammer and a chisel to carve intently on a slab of stone. Everine thought he must be the clerk.
Ragnar began by addressing the council members as a group. “What are your concerns in this matter? Please make sure you voice both pros and cons before we reach a final decision. The final vote must be unanimous in favor of it if we are to let the mother and child stay in Bermunnos.”
Unanimous? Everine bit her tongue but frowned. Birken had not mentioned that.
Ragnar signaled Thorleif to speak first.
Thorleif resembled Ragnar in appearance, though without the same air of glamour. His hair was even thicker than Ragnar’s. Though it was styled in a similar way on top, thick braids fell almost to his shoulders. His gold-brown skin was a shade darker than Ragnar’s as well. Dusky bronze eyes rested under heavy-set, protuberant brows, revealing that despite their similarity in appearance, the two Earthlings did not share similar sentiments.
Thorleif stood and raised his gravelly voice. “From what we have learned, this woman helped save the life of one of the most treasured members of our society, a council member no less.” His deep voice boomed into the chasm. Earthlings on the closest levels above stopped to look down at the council meeting. “I believe she has earned her right to walk among us.” His tone carried an edge to it that made Everine grip the basket tighter.
His lips tightened. “However, from what we’ve been told, she is also the mother of a special child. A child the likes of which none but a few have ever seen. We do not know what power she possesses or what trouble we ask for if we allow her to stay. Many eyes will seek her out, I fear. I believe she poses a threat to our neutral position in Aradria and to our home.”
Frida and Sol nodded at his words, and Thorleif lifted his chin higher. “I will not stand idly by should this child grow to become our undoing. She is not our responsibility if we do not make her so. Must I remind you of our history? We did not ask for this burden, and I, for one, do not want it.”
Ragnar’s face revealed nothing about whether or not he agreed, but he respectfully accepted Thorleif´s contribution to the debate. “Thank you for your wise reflections,” he said. He beckoned to Frida, who sat to his left.
Frida cleared her throat but remained in her seat. Her elbows rested on her knees, her palms clasped under her chin.
“Thorleif is right in that we do not know the future. But I say, do we ever? Are we to rely upon visions, which change with every new decision made?”
What she said put Everine on edge.
Why would she talk of visions? she wondered. What visions have they seen that would have anything to do with Ayva?
Frida let her hands fall between her knees and lifted her head regally. “This child might be a blessing, not a curse. Are we to continue to hide behind our neutrality while the rest of Aradria burns for our sins? If we are going to look back on our history, we might as well take into account that we have great cause to seek redemption. We as a people were undeniably involved in the Fall. Taking in this child would not wash our hands clean, though perhaps it’s a start. Besides, she might prove valuable to us. I strongly believe that war will prove inevitable in time. As for the mother, I don’t see the harm.” Frida leaned back in her chair and waved a hand at Ragnar.
Sol was next. The Earthling witch was a plump woman, though she shared the square features of her kin. Her golden hair was pulled into loops and curls to frame her face, and a long-sleeved violet dress covered slightly more skin than seemed usual for other Earthlings.
Sol’s appearance was endearing, though she was not what Everine considered pretty. The Earthling witch shared the same penchant for gold adornments as Ragnar. She straightening her dress, crossed her legs and folded both hands on one knee, then stared curiously at Everine.
“I am pleased to meet you, Everine Vargens of Beregend. I must thank you for the service you have provided us in ensuring Birken’s safe return to the chasm. My fellow council members have raised valid questions. Your child might very well become a burden.”
Everine remained motionless. Her attention never left Sol’s face. A suffocating pressure built up at the back of her throat. If Ayva was a burden to these Earthlings, then Everine would teach them about burdens. She had a hard time grasping that anyone might find her daughter disposable.
Sol’s thin lips spread out into a smile. “You don’t look like much of a warrior. But you certainly have a warrior’s heart. For this, I would gladly welcome you into our fold. In regards to your child, however…” Her gaze slid across the basket in Everine’s lap, and she leaned forward. “I would very much like to meet her before I take a stand in this matter.”
Swallowing her doubts, Everine stood as Ragnar signaled for her to approach Sol. She gently lifted Ayva from the basket and held her in front of the Earthling witch. Sol reached out, placing a hand on Ayva’s head. The baby looked up at her, and a flurry of visions from seasons past flooded Ayva’s eyes.
Sol gasped. “It is true. I see it now. How are we to pass judgement on you, little one, when it is you who must pass judgement on us?”
Ragnar put a hand on Sol’s shoulder as he leaned in to take a peek at Ayva.
“Those are wise words,” he commented, as Ayva showed him his own images of events long forgotten.
Sol never took her gaze off the infant, even as she spoke. “Yes, I believe so. Either way, it is the truth. It is about time we pulled our heads out from under the earth. This child should be our ally. We would be fools to turn her away and risk making an enemy of her.” Sol moved in closer. She lowered her voice, speaking directly to Ayva.
“I pledge myself to you, little one. When you are ready, I will serve.”
Ragnar clapped his hands together. “Fools we might be, and I am inclined to agree with you. We still need to hear a couple more speak before we cast final judgement.”
Everine relaxed. She was relieved to see Sol so eager to accept them into the fold, though the impact Ayva had on others troubled her. It would be difficult to hi
de the healer’s premonitions about her daughter this way.
Thorleif was the only council member who did not choose to look at Ayva. Frida, on the other hand, abandoned her seat to meet the baby. She narrowed her eyes. “Odd, isn’t she?”
The three of them had forgotten themselves completely. When Everine grew restless, it was Thorleif who finally cut through the buoyant mood.
He nearly shouted in his frustration. “Shall we proceed? I believe there are those who have not had their say. Or have you already decided to fall for a mere mirage of visions?”
“Yes,” Ragnar said. “You are quite right, of course.” He and the women returned to their seats. “Birken, do you have anything to add?”
Everine took a seat with Ayva once more as Birken stood. His face had taken on that same thoughtful expression she had been drawn to the first day they met. She wondered what part he had played in the matter of the council’s obvious knowledge of Ayva’s powers.
“I agree with Sol and Frida,” he said. “I, too, have looked into her eyes, and it gave me peace. I will make you all the promise to stay here and forgo my usual travels to the outside world for as long as these two remain in the chasm. However, if judgement is passed, and they must go, I regret to inform you I will follow them. I intend never to return if I do.”
Everine was fuming. She had not asked this sacrifice of him, and she did not expect it. At the same time, she found she did not want to part from him either. She rarely trusted in anyone like she had Birken. Having spent most of her life fending for her sister, she was hardly accustomed to being cared for by another.
Thorleif’s brow wrinkled. “You mean to threaten us? You think you are such an asset to our people that we cannot afford to see you go?”
Birken replied with an air of pity in his voice. “No, my friend, it’s not a threat. I simply state the facts, as well as making my point as to how valuable I deem these two.” He gestured towards Everine and Ayva.