The Daughter of the Sea and the Sky

by David Litwack

  He passed a fenced-in field on the left that fronted a barn. A half dozen horses, a chestnut and five bays, stood out against the white background, their manes bobbing as they grazed where heat from the building had cleared a spot. Nearer the road, a dappled gray wandered in deep snow, almost invisible, stopping occasionally to paw at the ground, scratching away for a few blades of winter grass.

  More fields, more barns, a shack in the woods, a shed filled with firewood, a post office, a fueling station, a general store, then repeat—passing like the days of his life.

  He glanced at the map on the passenger seat, then back at the landscape, expecting to have reached Northweald by now. He tapped on the brake and checked his mirror before easing onto the shoulder and coming to a stop.

  He opened the door and swung his legs around, letting the soles of his shoes land flat and dig into the snow. Then, careful not to slip, he stepped outside. It was cold—not January cold, but a more bearable March cold.

  He extended his arms high over his head and yawned in a lungful of fresh air as he scanned the horizon. At the crest of the next hill, a plume of smoke rose. He slid reluctantly back into the driver’s seat.

  A minute later he turned into a fueling station nestled between two stands of trees.

  A raw-boned boy in overalls sauntered out of the garage, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “Fill ‘er up, mister?”

  Carlson eyed the gauge. “I think I’m okay. Can you tell me how to get to Glen Eagle Farm?”

  The boy looked disappointed—no doubt customers were few and far between. “Glen Eagle. That’s that place in Northweald.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “You coming from the south?”

  He nodded.

  “Overshot it by forty miles. The road to Glen Eagle takes a ninety degree turn at Westwood. Lots of people miss that turn.”

  Carlson grimaced. Forty miles, an hour’s drive back.

  The boy grinned at him, not condescending, just a friendly grin. “You going there to do artsy stuff?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Heard it’s an art colony. That what you do?”

  He shook his head. “No, no, not me.”

  The boy finished wiping his hands, and studied his fingernails to check the results. “Didn’t mean anything bad by it. I hear good things about that farm. They say sad folks go there and it seems to help somehow.”

  “I’m going on business.”

  “Business, huh? Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to help someone too.”

  Carlson smiled. “Yes. Help someone. I may at that.” He looked again at the gauge. “You know, on second thought, fill it up. You never can tell how many more wrong turns I’ll make.”

  The boy grinned back at him. “Yes sir. Fill ‘er up. Right away.”

  ***

  Sebastian had been waiting since lunch, leaving too much time to worry. He rechecked Kailani’s papers—all in order. Perhaps the tribunal had been moved up. Or had the pilgrims bearing gifts violated some law? The department had become stricter and more secretive over the years, even as the threat from abroad waned. Who knew what crime they’d concocted for the girl from the enemy lands?

  Finally, as the shadows began to lengthen, he received a call. Lots of traffic. A few wrong turns.

  The chief examiner had sounded in no mood to be reasonable, so Sebastian kept the teapot with the cherubs hot, and himself in good humor while he paced the porch and waited. In the stillness of dusk, with no blanket of leaves to muffle the noise, he’d hear him coming a mile away.

  Twilight was always his favorite time of day, but especially in winter, when the leaves were down and the mountains looked like picture-book cutouts in the crisp air. He stepped out from behind the plastic sheeting on the porch and moved to the edge of the lawn for a better view, as if getting closer would make the meeting occur sooner.

  At last, the telltale sounds arrived: the car engine, the boards on the bridge, the tires squishing to a stop on the muddied parking lot.

  Henry Carlson stepped out of the car, set his weathered briefcase down, and extended a hand. He was of similar height and build to Sebastian, but younger—they were all younger these days—and had weary eyes behind wire-rimmed bifocals. He looked unthreatening.

  “You’ve had a long day,” Sebastian said as he shook the man’s hand.

  “Such a long drive. I’m stiff and chilled to the bone.”

  “Would you like some tea? It’ll help both the cold and the stiffness.”

  “I’d love some.”

  And so, following their perfunctory greeting in the parking lot, the two faced each other over tea in Sebastian’s office.

  Sebastian settled Mr. Carlson in one guest chair, while he took the other. No desk in between, a trick he’d learned from his business days. Use the desk to intimidate when they’re looking for something from you; otherwise, meet hat in hand as a supplicant. He was the supplicant this time and needed Mr. Carlson to be friendly, understanding, and to go away as quickly as possible.

  A quick departure did not seem to be on the chief examiner’s agenda. “I need to see the girl right away,” he said.

  “I’m afraid she’s busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  Sebastian spread his arms. “Working on crafts, heading to dinner. Something like that.”

  “I’m too tired for games, Sebastian.”

  “Games? You’re the one who won’t tell me what’s going on. I’m responsible for her well-being and won’t drag her in here without good reason.”

  The chief examiner broke off eye contact. “I also care... about her well-being.”

  Something odd seemed at work here, something Sebastian had never seen from an examiner: compassion.

  He moderated his tone, suddenly unsure of the situation. “Then why don’t you leave her be? She’s doing so well here.”

  “I would if I could, but....” He took off his glasses and began cleaning them with a freshly pressed handkerchief, swirling the corners around each lens.

  “But what?” After a long day of waiting, Sebastian’s patience was wearing thin.

  The examiner replaced the glasses and blinked twice. “But you denied me that option when you posted that photogram on the network.”

  Sebastian relaxed. “Ah, so that’s it. Violated one of your rules. That photogram was the unauthorized act of one of our members. I’m sorry it happened, and I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “I’m afraid this has gone well beyond apologies. I’ve been ordered to take her back.”

  Damn it. How could he let Kailani go back to prison because of Benjamin’s quirk? “The photogram was published on my watch. Punish me if you have to. Levy a fine on the farm. But don’t take Kailani away.”

  “I have no choice. Now this needn’t be a problem. Just turn her over to me.”

  “She’s not a problem, she’s a child.”

  “I didn’t mean to make this contentious, but you have to understand—”

  “Understand what?”

  The chief examiner took a sip of tea and winced when he realized it was still too hot. “That this problem—this child—is visible at the highest levels of the department.”

  Sebastian was primed for an argument, but the words made no sense. “You must be kidding.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “What could a child possibly have done to merit that kind of attention?”

  Carlson looked away, focusing on the painting of the great house in winter as so many others had done when the discussion took an uncomfortable turn.

  “I... don’t... know,” he said.

  Sebastian stared at him. “You drove all the way up here to snatch the girl away and you don’t know why?”

  “I’m not high up enough to be privy to the whys of it, but I assure you the people involved are as high up as they come. They’ll get what they want, one way or the other.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It
means don’t underestimate what they might do if you resist.”

  He slid to the edge of his seat. “Are you threatening my farm?”

  Carlson’s head snapped back. “Don’t get feisty, Sebastian. I’m only here to take the child back and ease her transition. I have no interest in your refuge for lost souls.”

  Sebastian jumped up as fast as his cranky knees allowed. Neither of them were big men, but he did his best to loom over the seated examiner. “A refuge for lost souls, are we? How could I expect a bureaucrat like you to understand what we do here? But here’s something you can understand, Chief Examiner Carlson: the child was sent to this refuge by the tribunal along with her legal guardian. You’re here by my invitation and have no right to barge in and order me around without a warrant. I’m not going to turn my youngest resident over to you in the middle of winter, in the dark of night, when you can’t even tell me why you’re taking her.”

  He bent down until their noses were inches apart. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly.” Carlson raised his voice for that single word. It sounded far off and yet loud, like a bullhorn in a windstorm.

  He stood and put on his jacket, shaking his head all the while. With the tip of his finger, he shoved his bifocals higher up the bridge of his nose, then regarded Sebastian through them.

  “I’m sorry we can’t work this out. You’re making it more painful than you know.” He walked to the door, but stopped and turned in the frame. “Goodbye, Sebastian. Thank you for the tea.”

  He opened the door and left, letting a chill into the great house.

  Sebastian followed him onto the porch.

  The chief examiner walked down the steps and crossed the lawn to his car. He set his briefcase on the ground and took the handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands and dragged it across his mouth, then pulled one glove on and the other, stretching each finger to its tip.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said without looking up, “with a warrant.”

  He picked up his briefcase, ducked into the sedan, and drove off across the parking lot to the dirt road in no rush. The car maneuvered over the old bridge and made its way up the hill. The taillights disappeared and the sound of the engine merged with the noise of the highway.

  Chapter 33 – A Call to Arms

  Helena was finishing dinner with Kailani when someone tapped on her shoulder. She twisted around in time to see Sebastian fold his finger back against his chest as if he’d never intended to touch her.

  His face seemed pale, and his ears were twitching. “Hello, Helena.”

  She pointed to her mouth to show she was still chewing, then swallowed and took a drink before replying. “Hello, Sebastian.”

  “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” His expression said otherwise.

  She stared at him and then past him, searching for a reason for the visit.

  He turned to Kailani. “And a good evening to you.”

  Kailani was chewing too but had no qualms about answering with her mouth full. She shifted the food to one cheek so it bulged like a chipmunk and said, “Hi, Mr. Sebastian.”

  “Would you mind if I borrow Helena for a few minutes?”

  She shook her head and went back to her meal.

  Helena blinked and glanced at him sideways.

  He extended the unused finger and beckoned. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  “Now?”

  “Oh yes. Now.”

  She swung around in her seat, gave Kailani a pat on the head, and followed him out the door.

  They weren’t ten paces from the barn before she jumped in front to block his way. “What’s going on, Sebastian?”

  He lowered his eyes. In the light streaming from the barn windows, Helena recognized that look—the expression people have when they’re about to deliver bad news.

  He sighed and said, “They’ve come to take Kailani.”

  “Who?”

  “The department. A Mr. Carslon was here and wants to take her back.”

  A wave of dread rushed through her as it had the day the doctor told her about her father. “When?”

  “Right away. He’d have her now, but I sent him away.”

  “He can’t do that. It’s not yet time.”

  “He’s getting a warrant from the tribunal. We’ll have no choice.”

  Sebastian told her about Carlson’s visit, how the department analysts had uncovered the photogram, and how the highest levels of the department were involved.

  She ground her teeth and her eyes flared. She was tired of mourning. “They can’t have her. I won’t let them take her away.”

  “Be reasonable, Helena.”

  “I’m done being reasonable. I made a promise.” She swept past him to the great house, but stopped and whirled around. “And I won’t break it this time.”

  ***

  Helena knew where Jason would be. With all the work Benjamin piled on him during the day, he needed to eat fast at dinner and then dash off to meet his Polytech obligations. At least if he hoped to get some sleep.

  She hesitated at the doorway to his office, reluctant to storm in and disrupt his life again. This time saving Kailani would take more than committing to the farm. She cleared her throat, hoping he’d turn, but he was as focused as ever. She stepped back and rapped on the door jamb.

  He swiveled around and smiled when he saw her. “What brings you to my lair?”

  She forced a nervous laugh, but the words came rushing out. “They want to take her. Right now. Tonight.”

  Jason squared his shoulders and gave his full attention. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  She folded her arms and hugged herself. “Carlson was here. He came to take Kailani back to the department. Sebastian turned him away, but he said he’d be back in the morning with a warrant.”

  Jason clicked to save his work, then stood and came toward her, appearing to move so slowly she wasn’t sure he was getting close until she felt his touch on her arms. He pulled and she gave in, resting her cheek against his chest. At once she was back on the cliffs, on that summer day with an onshore breeze that cooled but did not chill.

  After four heartbeats, she drew away. “Oh, Jason, what are we going to do? He’ll be back for her tomorrow.”

  “A warrant, you said? From the tribunal?”

  She could hear her father’s voice. Be reasonable, Helena. Then she pictured Kailani in the oversized prison uniform, wasting away in a cell. This was beyond reason.

  “I won’t turn her over,” she said.

  “What if he found her family? What if he’s sending her home?”

  “That’s not what he said. He said she’s wanted by the department at the highest levels.”

  “She’s nine years old. What in the name of reason could the highest levels want with her?”

  “They found the photogram.”

  Jason gazed off into the distance as if replaying the night of the Northern Lights in his mind. “Dressed like a priestess and praying.”

  “And all the followers and messages—”

  “Calling it a miracle and mythmaking. Even so, why at the highest levels?”

  Helena felt the panic surge like lava seething in the pit of her stomach. She recalled what Jason had told her. “You said Benjamin called her a prophet, and he was in the Blessed Lands.”

  “And she claimed she came to save the soulless.”

  “What if she’s one of their priestesses, as important as she claims to be? Oh, Jason, what will we do?”

  He fell back a step. Only two feet separated them, but it felt like a chasm.

  “There’s something else,” he said. “A message. Anonymous. No subject. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “What did it say?”

  “‘Beware,’” he said as she held her breath. “‘There are those who would do her harm.’”

  ***

  Later that evening, Helena sat on the steps of their cabin, waiting for Jason. As she stared down the darkened
path, the dim light played with her mind. Phantoms swirled in the dark as they had in her childhood home when she was five years old. When her breathing became quick and uneven, she closed her eyes and tried to picture the three of them at the Knob. She could almost smell the salt air, and feel the sea breeze on her cheeks.

  Then the breeze turned into a gale. Jason became paper thin, like a kite, and sailed off with the next gust. She became her mother, holding on with all her might to a little girl who’d become translucent as well.

  Footsteps on the path prompted her to open her eyes. She expected to find Jason, but Benjamin stood before her instead.

  “Is something wrong, Helena?”

  She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He made her uncomfortable, but what if...?

  When she remained silent, he made his little bow, turned sideways, and slipped past her down the path.

  “Benjamin,” she called after him.

  He stopped.

  “They’ve come to take her.”

  He came back and rested a bony hand on her shoulder.

  “Take a deep breath, Helena, and then tell me what you’re trying to say.”

  “The department was here. They want to take Kailani away.” The words spilled out before she could control them. “I don’t know what you do to make people come here, but The Daughter needs you now.”

  Benjamin sucked in a lungful of air and lowered his head; for an instant she thought he was praying. When he looked up again, his eyes were ablaze.

  “Have no fear, Helena. I shall help.”

  Chapter 34 – Enemies

  Wednesday. 11:00am. A caravan of cars rolled across the bridge and onto the sandy lot next to the lawn.

  Sebastian was impressed. He’d figured they’d need at least a half day to get a warrant and muster the police.

  Carlson led the procession in a bright new cruiser from Northweald. The other three cars were a mix from surrounding towns, some as far as twenty miles away, all they could gather in so little time. It might have been the biggest police action the Northern Kingdom had ever seen.