by Pati Nagle
I didn’t understand. Looked at Len. She shrugged.
“Thank you for your kind offer,” Pirian said, “but I think I must decline. I will refrain from hunting near here, as thanks for your hospitality, for the healing—oh, and for preventing your friends from killing me. They wanted to, yes?”
Madóran didn’t answer.
“Yes. Well, I cannot blame them, after Kanna’s behavior. I would offer to speak to her again, but I doubt she would listen.”
“She’s dead,” I said.
He looked up at me in surprise. “Dead?”
I nodded. My throat tightened.
“Poor Kanna. I knew this would not end well for her. I did not expect her to die.”
“It was her or us.”
Ay, yi, yi. I bit my cheek, hoping to keep from saying anything else stupid.
Pirian’s eyes turned cold. “No doubt. And where is your beau, my dear?”
“They have all gone to attend to the pyre,” Madóran said.
“So it happened tonight.” Pirian gazed at me, and my skin crawled. When he spoke again, his voice was deadly soft. “You are fortunate to have powerful friends, little one.”
I was about to say I didn’t kill her, but then I’d helped, and I sure wasn’t sorry. Conflicting emotions kept me from thinking of a clever comeback.
“We should get some rest,” Len said, getting up.
She came over and took me by the arm. I let her lead me away. Madóran stayed.
Caeran met us on the portal and we walked to their room. They must have done some silent talking, because Caeran went to the south door of the room.
“I will be in the study. Sleep well.”
Despite the chocolate, my eyelids were drooping. I didn’t bother with polite protest when Len said I’d share her bed. I let her put me in a nightshirt and crawled under the covers, grateful not to be alone.
= 13 =
I had bad dreams. Poor Len had to wake me up a few times. She probably didn’t get much sleep.
By morning I was even more exhausted. My hand was throbbing, and I was sure that Savhoran must hate me. He’d hated me a lot in my dreams, which involved me clumsily cutting myself again and again.
But I knew that the real problem was that I’d done it deliberately.
I lay in bed for a long while, feeling sorry for myself. Gradually I realized Len was gone. I raised my head and saw sunlight around the edges of the curtains.
I dragged my ass out of bed and put on my clothes. Folded the nightshirt and left it on the dresser. Stood wondering what to do.
Breakfast? My stomach rebelled at the idea. I knew what I had to do.
I opened the door and looked out at the portal, still not used to the idea that I could walk out there safely. I went around and stopped at Savhoran’s door. Knocked, then leaned my head against the wood.
It’s me. Can I come in?
Maybe they weren’t back yet. Maybe he wasn’t coming back.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting tears. Please let me in.
No answer. Not that I could really tell, but it felt like he wasn’t there.
I went to my own room and lay on my bed and cried. Woke to a knock at the door.
“Gway,” I said into my pillow.
“It’s lunchtime,” Len said through the door. “You missed breakfast.”
“Not hungry.”
“Madóran thought you’d say that. I’ve got a tray for you.”
Shit.
I sat up and blew my stuffy nose. Len assumed this was an invitation and tried the knob, but it was locked. I didn’t remember doing that.
I went to let her in. The tray was a bowl of green chile stew, a fresh tortilla, and a side of zucchini bread, with a glass of milk to tame the chile. I should have been hungry, but I couldn’t face the food. I accepted the tray and put it on the dresser. Len followed me in, so I took a piece of zucchini bread and nibbled a corner. Tasted like sawdust.
We both sat on the bed. I struggled not to cry. My eyes were sore already.
Len put her arm around me.
“He didn’t come back,” I said in a choked voice.
“Yes, he did. We were asleep. Madóran said they had a long talk. Savhoran’s gone up to the spring.”
“Spring?”
“There’s a hot spring up in the hills. It’s on Madóran‘s property.”
“Savhoran’s up there? It’s daytime!”
“There’s a cave nearby. He’s doing a cleanse. It’s kind of like a sweat lodge.”
A cleanse. Trying to forget.
I hadn’t told anyone about what I’d done with the safety glass, but Madóran had probably guessed. Or maybe Savhoran had told him.
My eyes started leaking. I wiped at my face, but it was no good.
Len handed me a tissue. “He’ll be OK.”
“I think I really screwed up.”
Len did what a good friend does. She held me and let me cry. She stopped trying to tell me it was all right. She passed me the box of tissue when I couldn’t breathe anymore.
I mopped my face. Len handed me the water glass from my nightstand. I took a deep gulp.
“Did he tell you?” I said.
“Who? What?”
I swallowed. “Did Madóran tell you what happened last night?”
“You told me.”
“I didn’t tell you everything.” I drained the glass and handed it back. “The car was dead, and Savhoran was too tired to walk. We were sitting ducks. So I picked up a handful of glass and made myself bleed.”
“Oh.”
“And now he hates me.”
“Maybe not.”
“Yeah, because he didn’t want to. I made him do it.”
“Sounds like there wasn’t much choice,” Len said.
“There wasn’t. She’d have had us. But it was still against his will.”
“Wait until he comes back. You guys need to talk.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will, honey. He will.”
She rubbed between my shoulder blades, which made me realize how tense my back was. I closed my eyes and soon she had me prone on the bed, massaging my back like a pro. She knew right where it was sore.
I wanted to ask Len to take me to the spring, but I knew it was a bad idea. I’d already been too pushy with Savhoran.
I composed apologies in my head. They all sounded lame.
By the time Len stopped rubbing, I was a puddle. She nudged me to sit up and blackmailed me into eating some of the food. Said she wouldn’t leave until I’d taken five bites of chile and two each of tortilla and zucchini bread.
“That’s nine,” I said. “Why nine?”
“Because I said so. Eat.”
I ate. Then I let her nag me into going out into the garden. I sat in the shade and watched the birds play in the fountain. Beautiful, but I couldn’t work up any enthusiasm.
I spent the afternoon there. Len brought me lemonade, which I drank. I dozed a little in the heat.
When Madóran summoned me to dinner I went, not because I was hungry but because it was easier than arguing. The whole clan was there, even Nathrin and Mirali—everyone except Savhoran.
I took some food and nibbled at it. Not really hungry. The wine tasted good though—I drank a glass pretty fast and Madóran refilled it.
Nathrin and Mirali wanted to know about what had happened with Kanna. Caeran did the explaining, for which I was grateful. Then Len asked about the pyre and Lomen answered.
“It took some time to prepare. There was plenty of dead wood, but we had to search for an open space to burn it. We found a dried water-hole and built the pyre there. It burned quickly. We stayed until it was out.”
“Thank you,” I said, thinking of the bad forest fires we’d had.
Lomen bowed to me. “Thank you. We are aware of your contribution.”
I felt my cheeks flash hot. Looked down at my plate full of uneaten food.
“I salute you, Amanda Richards
,” Lomen said. “Clan Greystone is in your debt.”
They all raised their glasses. I couldn’t help wondering if Savhoran would agree with them.
I should have said thank you, but my throat had closed up. I took a sip of water.
Lomen took pity on me and changed the subject. “Caeran, will you and Len be returning to the city?”
“As long as Len is studying at the university, we will live there.”
“Probably longer,” Len said. “I’ll need access to labs, once I know what the hell I’m doing.”
“What you need,” I said, “is a foundation.”
They all looked at me. I took a breath.
“I’ve been thinking about your plan. Len wants lab access to do research. I know you have some financial resources—” I glanced at Madóran. “—but you haven’t really figured out to apply them. Just getting a lab job won’t guarantee you’ll have the time and materials to do the work you need. If you start a foundation now, though, you can set it up to get grants and stuff. The labs and schools will take you more seriously.”
“I don’t know anything about grants,” Len said.
“Me neither, but I know how to find out. If I take some classes at the business school I can probably help you.”
Len’s face filled with joy. “Amanda! Thank you!” She jumped up and hugged me.
“I’m not pledging my life to this, OK? Just offering to help set things up.”
“That’s fine! That’s wonderful, thank you so much!”
“I think Amanda should be made a member of the clan,” said Lomen.
There were murmurs of agreement, though Mirali scowled. I didn’t care what she thought so much as I cared what Savhoran thought. I cleared my throat.
“Thanks, Lomen, but um. Savhoran might not…”
I couldn’t finish. They got the message. Faranin asked Nathrin something about the new house, and they all politely ignored me while I tried not to go to pieces. Tears were stinging my eyes. I got up and left, as quietly as I could.
I went out the near door, heading for the garden. Sunset was painting the tall clouds to the west orange and pink. It hadn’t rained, but there was that tension in the air that said it might.
They left me alone, even Len. There wasn’t anything more to say. I stayed in the garden until it got dark. Pirian came out, at which point I went to my room. He and I traded polite smiles, that was all.
I lay there feeling miserable, hoping that Savhoran would come back that evening. Rehearsed my apologies some more. Finally I drifted off.
This time I woke up early. I heard birds twittering outside.
Savhoran hadn’t come back that night. If he had he’d have knocked on my door. Wouldn’t he?
To avoid being rousted out of bed again, I got dressed and went to the kitchen. Madóran was cooking. I offered to help. He sent me to pull some green onions from the garden.
I picked up gloves and hat from the workroom as usual. The minute I stepped outside I froze.
Outside the house. No one to guard me.
I swallowed. Reminded myself that she was dead. I had helped. They’d burned her body and she wasn’t coming back.
I walked slowly through the rows of vegetables, watching to either side. Found the onions and stood there, looking all around. It was a pretty morning with white puffy clouds beginning to form, promising a chance of rain later in the day. Why was I nervous?
I pulled a couple of handfuls of onions and hurried back inside. Madóran had me wash them and chop them up for omelets. He was cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Did Savhoran come back last night?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“No. I went up to the spring to talk to him early this morning.”
“Oh. He‘s OK, right?”
Madóran sighed and turned to me. “Not entirely. He was traumatized, as were you, by the events of the previous night.”
I swallowed. “Is he mad at me?”
“I think not, but he is angry with himself for being weak.”
“Weak?!”
“Amanda, I know what you did. I think you made the right choice. Savhoran knows this too, in his heart, but he feels he should have been able to resist the temptation you offered him.”
I put down the knife. “For Pete’s sake, how? He was starving! I did everything but slit my throat.”
“He is thinking in terms of the ideal. We are not as practical as your kind, Amanda. We have no time limitations, so we aim for perfection. Having been unable to maintain the state of perfection he hopes for, Savhoran feels he has failed.”
I shook my head. I had thought I was beginning to understand the ælven, but apparently not.
“Remember, Savhoran has already had to compromise his ideal. He is still trying to reconcile his illness with his desire to keep the creed.”
“And I just made it harder.”
“Harder, but not impossible. Be patient. He needs time to think through what has happened and come to terms with it.”
I nodded. I should probably do that too. What I wanted was to know that Savhoran would forgive me, but that wasn’t going to happen right away.
I wondered how much time he would need to sort it out. A week? A month? He had all the time in the world, but I didn’t.
I picked up the knife and carefully finished chopping the onions, then put them in a bowl for Madóran. He beat the eggs to a froth with a whisk, then poured them into one of two cast iron skillets on the stove. He had me grate cheese while he put the kettle on for tea. Then he started a second batch of eggs.
Helping him cook calmed me down. My love life might be a mess, but the world still had butter melting into fresh bread hot from the oven.
Faranin came in and spoke to Madóran in their language. Madóran answered in English, which was nice of him. People started drifting in for breakfast. I got out plates, mugs, silverware, napkins. Kept myself busy so I wouldn’t have to talk.
We set up the food as a buffet on the counter. There weren’t enough chairs around the table, so Len, Caeran, and I went over to sit on the banco.
“Man, we’d like to go home today if it’s OK with you,” Len said. “Hard to believe, but it’s time to think about registering for the fall semester.”
She was right. We’d been here a chunk of the summer.
I swallowed. “OK.”
“We’ll stay in touch,” she added.
I nodded. My stomach had clamped down. I got up and refilled my tea mug. Left my plate on the counter.
We were leaving. I wasn’t going to see Savhoran again before we did.
I strolled out onto the portal and looked at the garden. I’d miss it, even though I hadn’t been able to sit out there as much as I wanted. Maybe because of that.
I’d miss all of it. Grubbing in the garden, Madóran‘s wonderful meals, the people. Even Mirali, who I was pretty sure didn’t like mortals. Even Pirian.
Well, maybe not Pirian.
I finished my tea, took my mug back to the kitchen, and went to my room to pack. It didn’t take nearly long enough. I slipped down the portal to the room that Savhoran had been using. Opened the door, hoping for a glimpse of something to remember him by.
It was tidy. Bed made, nothing sitting out. The room looked unoccupied.
Disappointed, I carried my bag to the front entryway and set it down near the door. I heard music from the great room, so I went in to listen. Madóran was playing the guitar, fingerstyle, very good.
We’d had a few musical evenings. I wished there’d been more.
I sat on the couch and watched his fingers dance over the strings. He was good at everything. Really made a girl feel inferior.
“There is one thing that humans are better at than we,” Madóran said.
“Oh, sorry. Forgot to shield.”
“You have children far more easily.”
I nodded. “This is the reason for some of our problems.”
“Yes, but they are problems we would dearly love to
have. Ours are the opposite. And for Savhoran, it is a very big problem.”
He finished the piece and put down the guitar. “You see, it is our females who have difficulty conceiving. Human females do not.”
I nodded. “Actually, we spend a lot of time trying not to.”
“An attitude we cannot fathom. Do you see why this causes Savhoran confusion?”
I frowned. I could see why it confused the ælven in general. Why Savhoran?
“With you, he could easily father a child, something every ælven dreams of.”
I did not want to have this conversation again.
“We talked about that. I’m not ready to start a family.”
“You are very young, even for your kind. Yes, I understand. But, you see, a family with you is likely his only chance. He cannot couple with an ælven female without putting her at risk, and any child of such a union would suffer the curse.”
He picked up the guitar again. I sat thinking for a bit, listening to the gentle music. Slowly it dawned on me: the fact that Madóran had mentioned this issue meant that he thought Savhoran had been thinking about it. Had they discussed it?
My gut turned a slow flip. I pulled a notebook out of my pack and started writing a note to Savhoran. Had to start over a few times. Madóran politely ignored the balled-up rejects I tossed on the floor.
I managed to put together an apology that wasn’t whiny. I wasn’t sorry that Savhoran had killed the alben, but I was sorry I’d forced him to feed on me. I was positive there wasn’t any other choice. I didn’t say that in the note; he knew. I didn’t make any excuses or try to justify what I’d done. I just apologized.
I carefully tore out the page and folded it. Wrote Savhoran’s name on the outside. Held it for a minute, then put it on the coffee table by Madóran.
“Would you give that to him when he comes back?” If he comes back. I pushed that thought away.
“Of course,” Madóran said. “And I am fairly certain that he will.”
I heard a door open, and Len and Caeran came in from the entryway. This was it. I stood up.
Madóran put down the guitar and stood too. Len came over and gave him a big hug. He said something ælven to her, and she nodded.
I’d barely started to learn ælven. Maybe now I never would.