“You are worried,” Wynn said as she pulled her sack around and laid it in her lap.
“I have a good reason to be,” Elric admitted. “We have nothing left. The village could be days away yet, if we find it at all.”
Mildred poked her head out of Wynn’s sack and clucked sleepily. It must be nice for her. She was growing fat on bugs and spring grubs.
“Don’t worry.” Wynn placed her hand on his and gave it a pat, but her words offered him little comfort. He couldn’t not worry.
“Come on, Wynn. We have to keep going,” he said. Sitting on a rock wasn’t going to help their situation, but finding the village would. He put an arm over her shoulder and tried to think like her. She never worried about anything. She lived in the moment.
That moment he was hungry. His stomach let out an angry growl.
“You are hungry,” Wynn said, even as her own stomach answered his. “You have to eat.” Her brow wrinkled as her smile turned down into a thoughtful frown. She swung the sack off her shoulder and clung to it.
“What are we going to eat? Rocks?” he asked. “I don’t think they’d be very good for our teeth.”
She let out a chuckle. “Rocks don’t taste very good.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that,” he said. He pushed himself up from the boulder slowly, gathering a dried limb that had fallen from the dead tree. He needed to make a fire, but he didn’t feel like he had much strength left. The ax swung slowly, and his fingers stumbled with the flint. He dropped the striking stone, failing to catch it again as it fell.
Wynn picked it up and handed it to him. “We will find food.”
“How?” He took the flint and let the sharp edge of it dig into his palm. “We can’t just wish for food and have it magically appear in our sack.”
Wynn scrunched up her face and closed her eyes tight. She balled her hands into fists and then began to shake.
“Wynn, what are you doing?” Elric fought the urge to laugh. “You look ridiculous.”
“I’m wishing,” she said between her gritted teeth.
“Wishing?” Now he did laugh. It looked like she was trying to lay an egg. “I didn’t think wishing took that much effort.”
“I’m wishing hard.” She opened her eyes and glared at him, before twisting her face up again.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. “You should stop before you hurt yourself. Wishes aren’t real. They don’t actually come true.”
This time she peeked one eye open and gave him a skeptical look. “Wishes come true.”
“I’ve never had a wish come true.” He arranged the bits of dried branch into a pile that would catch fire quickly. Wynn pulled Mildred out of the sack and set the hen in her lap.
“Have you ever wished?” Wynn asked, stroking the hen.
Elric opened his mouth to say something, but then hesitated. Had he ever made a wish? If he did, he couldn’t recall it.
She gave him a small smile as she reached into the empty sack for some of Mildred’s dried grass. They had been using it as tinder every night. Suddenly she let out a squeal.
“What?” Elric jumped at the sudden noise. “What is it?”
“Look.” Wynn held out her hand, and there, cradled in her palm, was a single perfect egg.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Elric
“MILDRED, I COULD KISS YOU!” Elric called, scooping the hen off of Wynn’s lap and swinging her around. She flapped her wings and squawked as Elric kissed the top of her head. The chicken wriggled out of his hands and trotted off, as if she were deeply offended. “Let me see that,” he said as he took the egg from his sister and carried it back to the small trickle of water. “I’ll start the fire. You gather the sticks?”
Wynn nodded and followed after the hen.
Elric cradled the precious egg in his palms. Something warm blossomed in his chest, and for a moment he forgot about his hunger. He held hope.
He filled the little pot with water from the tiny stream and then carefully placed the egg inside. It looked so small, and it wouldn’t be enough to fill either of their bellies, but it was something.
His hands shook as he started the fire, but it didn’t take long for the tinder to catch. He broke off some smaller branches of the dead tree and fed the tiny flames. The sky had grown red, and it would be dark in the ravine soon with the shadows of the high hills over them.
“Millie-lee-lee-lee!” he shouted, trilling the last syllable until it echoed against the hills.
Mildred fluttered over a large rock and came to him, exactly as he’d taught her. Elric walked over to her and the hen hopped onto his shoulder. He stroked the soft feathers of her breast. “Good girl,” he cooed. She pecked his ear.
It seemed he was forgiven for ruffling her feathers.
Elric sat on a rock and watched the egg in the pot while Mildred hunted for crickets between the rocks. It took forever for the water to boil.
Once the water was roiling, Elric looked around to see if Wynn was near. She walked slowly up the path with something bundled in the edge of her ripped skirt.
Elric trotted over to help her with whatever she was carrying. “Where are the sticks?” he asked.
“Look what I have.” She held out her improvised basket. It was teeming with soft-looking leaves in the shape of the foot of a goose. “It’s fat hen.” Her eyes were bright as she looked up at him.
“Isn’t that a weed?” He knew the sheep liked to eat it.
“We can cook it. Mother did.” She pushed the pile of soft leaves to the side. “I found this.”
“Mushrooms!” A bunch of them. “These are the good ones.” He threw an arm around her shoulders and led her over to the fire.
The egg danced merrily in the boiling pot. He sat next to Wynn, who scooped up Mildred and fed her some of the leaves.
When the egg was ready, he stirred the bounty of leaves and mushrooms until they were soft and steaming.
It was a feast.
The soft egg tasted creamy in Elric’s mouth. It may have been only two bites, but it filled him with warmth. And the fat hen didn’t taste half bad with the earthy mushrooms.
Their own fat hen liked it as well. She clucked in contentment as she closed her eyes and tucked her beak into the feathers of her chest.
Elric stroked her. “I’m glad Mildred is with us,” he said. And to think he had ordered Wynn to send the hen back home.
“I’m happy.” Wynn patted the bird’s back. “Mildred is my friend.”
She was a part of their little family, and Elric couldn’t imagine the journey without her. Mildred opened one eye to peer at him, then closed it again. He knew it wasn’t possible, but the bird seemed to be smiling.
Wynn leaned close to his side. She sighed sleepily. Elric reached over to tuck her cloak across her body so she would stay warm. Then he recited her favorite story, one he had told her at least five hundred times about a lost princess. Once more didn’t feel like a burden.
“I am the princess,” she announced, yawning.
“I thought you wanted to be Wynn the Dragon,” he teased.
“No, today a princess,” she murmured, then she fell to sleep, softly snoring with her head resting against his shoulder.
Mildred climbed into his lap and settled down, fluffing her feathers. He tucked his cloak around them and watched the fire, very glad he had them both.
Whatever comfort the “feast” had given them faded quickly as they woke to a cold fire and a misting rain. Elric packed up their small camp quickly and gently tucked Mildred into Wynn’s sack with a fresh layer of grass beneath her. Hopefully she would lay another egg, but one egg a day wouldn’t be enough.
They needed to find shelter, and quickly.
The fells were unforgiving.
Elric led them out of the ravine and into a more open landscape, but the rain came down harder, soaking through their cloaks and thin shoes. Wynn’s lips turned blue on the edges, and Elric could see her shaking, thou
gh she didn’t complain.
In the distance, a steep mountain rose from the narrow valley. Halfway up, Elric could make out the dark streaks of exposed rock forming craggy cliffs.
“We have to make it to that hill.” Elric took Wynn’s arm so he could support her as they trudged forward through the slanting rain. “We’ll look for an outcropping or a cave to stay in until the storm passes. Then maybe we will be able to see the smoke from the village when the weather clears.”
They hurried as fast as they could through the valley, but had to cross a narrow stream swollen with cold rain. Elric took three steps out on dry stones, but the stream was too wide to jump. Wynn looked worried on the bank. He held back his hand and helped her out on the rocks, then plunged his foot in.
The icy stream hit him like a punch that nearly knocked the wind out of him. The cold seeped through his muscles and skin with a chilling ache. He stumbled into the current, the water soaking his thighs.
“Mind your feet,” Elric warned. The current pulled at Elric’s shoe as he braced to help his sister. Wynn jumped into the water, falling so her arm and chest splashed into the deep part of the stream. He pulled her up, but not before she had soaked herself. Together they struggled over the rocky stream bottom to the other side.
They managed to drag themselves up the bank and head to the foot of the steep hill, but it was a long steep climb toward the rocks.
Wynn coughed as Elric tried to support her, keeping her close to his body so he could share what little warmth he had with her. She never gave up, putting one foot in front of another as her wet clothing clung to her body and the relentless storm washed her pale face in cold rain.
“Don’t worry, Wynn, we’re almost there.” Up ahead, he could see a dark shadow beneath the rock. “There’s a cave.”
“So cold,” Wynn whispered.
“We’ll start a fire. Just a little farther. We have to keep going.” Elric pulled her up a muddy slope, and she clung to a rock, climbing on her own until they reached the mouth of a wide cave. Elric helped Wynn beneath the sheltering rock, and she curled into a small ball, her clothing dripping on the ground. Her whole body trembled, and her teeth clattered.
Elric looked around. The cave wasn’t deep, merely the underside of a large outcropping, but it was reasonably protected from the wind and rain. He had to find wood, and something, anything, they could eat. He took his ax and set back out into the rain.
The rain splattered on his back and shoulders. He barely noticed at all—it was more of a creeping cold that sank through his body to his bones. His hunger ate away at his strength as he followed the path down to a cluster of trees on the skirt of the hill.
In the shelter of the grove, he noticed a stump hewn by an ax. His heart thundered to life at the sign of civilization. They had to be near the village the old man had spoken of.
“Hello!” Elric called into the rain. “Does anyone live here?”
There was no answer. Elric wandered deeper into the grove, where he found a drying shed filled with wood that someone had chopped. It was gray with age and cracked, perfect for starting a fire quickly.
He stacked as many chunks of wood as he could in his arms, and a cluster of sticks.
The way back up to the cave had somehow become steeper, and he wasn’t able to use his arms to balance. A raven perched near the trunk of one of the trees. Water dripped from its beak and its feathers rose up in wet spikes. It peered at him and let out a low and ominous caw.
Elric hurried as fast as he could. Twice he lost hold of the logs, spilling them onto the narrow path. He had to take them up again, balancing them until he reached the cave. Wynn stood, but stumbled as she came toward him to help.
“I’ll start the fire, but I need you to tend it while I look for something to eat.” They would need something more filling than a patch of weeds and a handful of mushrooms. “I think the village is nearby. No matter what, don’t let this flame go out.”
What he wouldn’t give for bread. Elric bent and arranged the sticks, but it took him several tries to light the damp tinder. Eventually he had a small fire glowing. Wynn lifted one of the cut pieces of wood and placed it on the fire, propped up by a rock so the new flame didn’t get smothered. “Hurry back,” she said, huddling close to the tiny fire.
Elric returned to the grove where he had found the shed and called out louder, “Is anyone out there?” Someone must have cut the wood. He searched the horizon for a hovel, or any sort of house, but found none.
The air smelled cold, like damp earth and grass. No smoke from warm hearths lingered in the air. “Anyone?” he called again, desperate.
A weak bleating answered him.
Elric ran toward the sound, his feet flying over the ground like the swift paws of a wolf.
In a clearing, a newborn lamb lay in the wet grass, its fleece a pure and startling white even in the dreary rain. It struggled to stand, then flopped back on its side, panting with the effort.
Elric turned in a slow circle. There had to be a shepherd nearby. No one left a flock while the ewes dropped their lambs. Any number of things could kill both mother and baby.
Where was the mother?
Elric trotted around the clearing, looking for the lost ewe. The tiny lamb continued to bleat, but did not stand. He saw no sign of the shepherd or the flock. No prints in the mud, nothing.
Where was the shepherd?
Elric’s heart pounded.
Someone should be here. Elric knew what it took to protect a flock. It was his duty. He watched over every ewe in his care. He helped every lamb carefully into the world, then nurtured them because one lamb could mean the difference between producing what they owed, or failing to meet their burdens.
He never wanted to be the one who let down the village. They all trusted him with the animals.
Elric bent down and stroked his hand over the lamb’s damp face. It kicked and struggled to find its feet, pushing its little head into his palm. It was no use. The poor thing flopped back on its side. It had no mother. It would not survive the night.
He knew the right thing to do. He should put the lamb on his shoulders and search for the village. It had to be close. A heavy wave of rain swept across the clearing.
He couldn’t leave Wynn. His middle cramped, nearly doubling him over. They were starving. He could take the lamb back to the cave.
No. He was no thief. Someone else’s livelihood was at stake. Another serf owed this lamb to his lord and master. What right did he have to steal it?
But it lay here abandoned, and it would soon die in the rain. Killing it quickly would be merciful.
While that might be true, he knew every beast in his own flock. He would know if one of his lambs disappeared without a trace.
Elric looked at the weakening lamb. No, best to leave the poor thing and let its master find the carcass in the morning.
Elric’s stomach growled at him, twisting in pain.
Wynn needed him.
The lamb blinked its dark and innocent eyes. It stopped struggling and lay in the grass like a sacrifice.
Elric drew his knife.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Wynn
WYNN WATCHED THE FLAMES FLICKER over the log. The light was nice, but she was still so cold. She shivered; her stomach growled. She had promised Elric she would tend the fire, and she would do a good job.
Mildred stood next to the flames and preened her damp feathers. Wynn wished she could hold her, because Mildred was warm, but Mildred didn’t want to be held. Wynn was too wet.
The rain came down harder. Elric was out there. Wynn hoped he would find food. Maybe if he wished hard enough?
Wynn placed another chunk of wood on the fire, and she listened to the water on the log hiss as the flames touched it. The wind howled through the cave and Wynn let out a startled cry. It sounded like the call of a fearsome beast. Maybe it was the Grendel. Another gust of wind blew through the cave, and the flames went out.
No! Wynn fel
l to her knees in front of the fire and desperately blew on the glowing embers. She fed them little sticks and puffed until another tiny flame burst to life and climbed up the stick. She had to protect it.
Elric would be back soon, and the fire needed to be hot for him. She had to be helpful.
Wynn moved rocks to make a wall around the flames, to keep them safe from the wind, then used her hat to fan them until larger pieces of wood caught fire.
But the wind kept trying to defeat her. She heard it howl and rage, but she stood between the fury of the storm and her little flames. The fearsome wind sent sprays of cold rain through the mouth of the cave, and as the fire grew, so did the shadows all around her. They climbed up the wall until Wynn could swear she saw a tall, dark form moving within them.
Wynn screamed as she hunched down, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes. It was the Grendel. He was here!
The wind howled again, and the cold rain washed over the back of her neck. Her little fire sputtered.
She needed help. But Elric was gone. Wynn thought she heard a low, rumbling voice laughing like thunder, and she did not dare to open her eyes.
Instead she sang.
“My queen, my queen, I’ll travel far,
To seek your favor high,
Please grant to me your silver branch,
And through the gate I’ll find you.”
The wind screamed in fury, and another rumble of thunder rolled overhead. Wynn repeated the words, over and over, opening her eyes just enough to make sure her little fire was still alive. As she sang, the light from the fire swayed in time with the song. The blue streaks within the dancing flames looked like people for a moment.
A furious crash of thunder rolled overhead, and she closed her eyes again. She listened past the howling rain and the crackle of the fire. In the distance, she thought she heard a voice soft and beautiful singing the song, but with words she’d never heard before.
“Oh come, oh come, my child fair,
I held so long ago.
My court of magic and of light,
The Silver Gate Page 13