by Rena Rossner
They murmur among themselves, but I take a deep breath and raise my voice. “These men are from my father’s shtetl. They are here to help. They came here to find my father because my Tati is now the new Rebbe of Berre. They claim that the Hovlins are responsible for what happened to Jennike and Mikhail.” A hush goes over the crowd.
“My father set off to Kupel a few weeks ago. He was hoping to arrive there before the Rebbe died. He didn’t know that the Rebbe was already dead, and that these men—” I motion to Ruven and Alter. “—were out looking for him.”
I swallow and steel myself—I feel as if I’m shedding a layer of skin. “If something happened to my father on his way there, or if for some reason he does not return, I am next in line to succeed him and the man I marry will be the next Berre Rebbe.”
Dovid takes in a sharp breath. I can see out of the sides of my eyes that he looks very pale, but I can’t stop to think about that now. I must keep going.
“We spoke to Laybel the Furrier earlier today and came up with a plan …”
We leave the Heimovitz home as the men are all donning fur cloaks. Dovid’s eyes meet mine as I turn to go, and I know that he and I need to talk but I can’t stop now.
I spend the night in the woods with Ruven and Alter. We tell the men that we will patrol the area around the Hovlin glen. I think that Alter sleeps because I can hear his snores, but I don’t sleep. Everything buzzes in my head: the way shifting felt. The way that Ruven looked at me when I was naked. The fact that my father is the Rebbe now, and I am his daughter, heir to a kind of throne. But more than anything I think of Dovid. What his eyes looked like when he heard what I said. How pale his face was when he realized what it might mean for him … and me. He stared at me as I spoke, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
I love him. I love the way he treats me, the way he looks at me—not with hunger, but with tenderness. I had already made my decision in my heart. But when he stared at me over the barrel of a gun, it made me wonder. Could he love me if he knew the truth—that I am a beast he tried to kill? That I will always be a beast? That marrying me means becoming a part of my family—even the next Berre Rebbe? Is he up to the task? Is it fair of me to ask that of him? What if he doesn’t want that kind of life? What if I don’t?
Inside I am a river, always flowing, always changing. I know now that I am powerful, but still I feel powerless to control my fate. I look up at the stars in the sky. I can’t count them. I let my eyes flit to the forest that’s always surrounded me. Strength can also feel like fear. Tears wet my eyes when my mind drifts back to Dovid: his eyes cold and pointed at me behind the barrel of a gun, then when he looked at me as though I was the most precious star in all the heavens. Black and white and black again.
I force myself to think of something else. Is Laya in Fedir’s bed tonight? Does that mean that she will become a swan when she lies with him? What will he do if that happens?
What would it have been like to transform with Dovid in my arms? My body warms just thinking about it, but then I shiver. Because I could have killed him. And—more than ever—I don’t know what the future holds for me.
At midnight, we set out for the Hovlin glen. Ruven and Alter follow me. If I am to be a beast, then I will act like one. I will go in there, get what I need, and fight my way out. And I must do it alone. Right now, I am the only one in town who can get through the enchantment. I will not be afraid. I will draw on my strength to save us all.
“Wait for me here,” I say to Ruven and Alter when we’re nearly at the glen. “I’ll talk to them and get the fruit. I’ll find her and then I’ll call for you. In the meantime, watch the river and the forest. Keep it safe for all of us.”
“You can’t just go in there alone,” Alter says.
“But that’s what we agreed upon,” Ruven counters.
“Only if we couldn’t get in,” Alter huffs.
“Can you both stop telling me what I can and can’t do?” I shout.
“Husht,” Alter says and cocks his ears at the trees around us.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “If you come with me, something in the enchantment may shift—we can’t take that chance. One of us needs to get in there and I must get some fruit, so we need to go with what we know works. Me first, you follow, and if I need your help, I will call for you.”
“I don’t like it, Liba.” Ruven frowns.
“You don’t have to like it. But this is what we’re going to do,” I say. I turn my back on them and walk through the woods until I get a glimpse of the clearing. The fire is out and I don’t smell smoke. As I slowly step out of the woods and into the clearing, I see Viktor. His eyes meet mine and he goes still. Had I not been watching I wouldn’t have seen it—a slight wince, a hesitation—but then he smiles, wide and open.
Why did he hesitate? The pores of my skin prickle and I shiver to shake it off. Not here. Not now. Not yet, I tell my body. I’ll let you know when I need you.
“Is Fedir here?” I ask. “I’d like to speak to him.”
“Not at the moment,” he answers, and I see his eyes shift. “What can I tempt you with, pretty? Have you come for fruit?”
I swallow and nod. “I have. I cannot keep myself away anymore.”
Viktor grins. I can tell that he doesn’t quite trust what is happening, but he opens his arms wide. “I’m so glad you came by …” His smile is mischievous. “Why don’t you follow me inside the lodge? That’s where we keep our stores of apples, russet and dun, cherries, peaches, citrons and dates, grapes for the asking, pears red with basking …”
The way he chants I can tell that I’m supposed to be entranced. My mouth wants to water, but I won’t let it. I realize that I am stronger than this enchantment because I know what I am, because I’m more than I used to be, and I’ve embraced it—my otherness.
“Plums on their twigs,” he continues, “pomegranates and figs …” He takes me by the hand and leads me after him into the lodge. His hand doesn’t make mine tingle. I feel it there, like an itch, but it doesn’t travel up my arm.
Five of the brothers look up as I walk into the lodge.
I don’t remember all their names.
“Brothers, look who came by?” Viktor sings. “She wishes to sample some fruit. What a fortuitous day. You know that your sister is to be married today?”
“I do,” I say. “I came to give my blessing.”
“You have blessed us with your presence.” One of the brothers steps forward. “I am Marten—it is a pleasure to meet you.” He bows to me. “Your sister is still sleeping—that is all she seems to do,” he says. “But you know that—you’re her sister.”
I plaster a smile on my face because no, he is wrong: that is not Laya at all. But I can’t let on. I must continue. If I am to break my sister out of here, I must buy fruit from these men. I must not close my ears to them.
A different brother extends his hand. “I am Helix—pleased to meet you,” he whispers. “Won’t you take a seat? Have a drink?” He leads me to a chair and places a golden cup of mead before me.
“Why, thank you,” I say. “You are so kind, but I am not thirsty. I merely want to buy some fruit and take it home.” I don’t sit down.
Viktor raises his voice, “Dear brothers, why don’t you bring up some trays and baskets, let’s put out a spread?”
Two of the brothers scurry off. Helix and Marten stay; they are so close to me that I can smell them: it is not a good smell. There is a vague odor of rot under the cleanliness of their clothes and their skin. I wrinkle my nose. Did Laya not smell it on them? Or am I different now—more beast than girl, more predator than prey?
From across the clearing, one of the brothers arrives in a rush. It is Miron, the dark-haired one. “What’s happening here? Where …?” he says loudly, and stops when he sees me. I recall the first time we saw him in the forest: he was the one who made Laya a crown. His chin is pointed. He smiles when he sees me; his teeth are small and sharp-looking. I don’t remember hi
s teeth looking like that before.
“What have we here?” he says.
“A visitor. She wishes to bestow her blessing on her sister on this special day, and buy some fruit in celebration,” Viktor says.
“Fruit? How lovely. Will she sample some too? You must know that we are … quite busy with all the preparations, but we always have room … I mean, time … for a guest. Unfortunately your sister is not feeling well. We do not wish to wake her. She must gather her strength for the day ahead.”
Is she still in that cabin? I wonder.
“I didn’t come here to see Laya. She and I have had … a falling out.”
“Oh, how unfortunate,” Miron croons.
“I came to bestow my good wishes. I’m sure you’ll pass them on for me. Is Fedir here? Perhaps he can receive my blessing on my sister’s behalf.”
“Oh …” Miron says and something in his face twitches. “What a shame, what a shame—Fedir is not here right now. He is off, you know …” Miron’s fingers tremble. “Last-minute preparations for the ceremony. I will be glad to convey your sentiments to the happy couple.”
I don’t know how I know, but he is hiding something.
“Thank you,” I say. “I will celebrate for her alone, and toast to her health with some mead and some fruit.”
The two other brothers come back with trays of fruit. They place them on the table before me.
“Oh, wonderful! I will fill my skirt with fruit and then be off.” I toss a silver coin onto the table and hold out my apron.
“An apricot, my lady?” Viktor picks one off a tray and extends it to me. “They’re your sister’s favorite.”
I shake my head. “No. I did not come to taste or try. Just to buy.”
“Some strawberries?” Miron is beside me. He holds them up to my mouth. “Come sit with us. Let us toast to your sister’s good health. The feast has not begun and night is a long way off. Break your fast with us.”
I press my lips together and shake my head. Where are they holding her?
“It’s a shame to take the fruits from here,” Miron sings. “Their bloom will die, their dew will dry, their flavor will just pass you by. This is the place, not just to buy, to taste and feast and eat of all good things. Be our welcome guest. Stay with us, rest here.” He points to a chair.
“Melon, ripe and sweet?” Helix gently places one in my hands. I smile and place it back down on the table.
“I must go. Someone waits for me in the forest,” I say, hoping to let them know that I am not alone. “Perhaps I will just give my sister one last kiss upon her brow. Where is her room?”
Miron’s eyes narrow. He licks his lips. “She cannot be bothered right now.”
I shiver and rub my arms. “If you won’t sell me fruit, please give me back my coin.”
“Raspberries?” Marten places them in my palms. They stain my fingers red. I shake my head. “Try one for me—do not be proud.” He grins and brings my hand up to my face. I drop the berries and take my hand from his.
“Now look what you’ve done!” he says and bends to pick them up.
I step back. “I only wish to purchase some,” I say. “I already paid.”
A tall and thin brother is suddenly beside me, stroking my hair. “You can pay in coin or kind. I’m Artur.” He extends his hand and I reach out to shake it but suddenly it’s overflowing with pomegranate seeds. He places them in my palm. “Perhaps you like them tart,” he says. “I like the tart ones.”
Everything in me tells me to run, to flee, but I must take fruit with me and figure out where my sister is being held. I bring them to my mouth and crush them up against my lips. I let the brothers think that I’ve sampled of their fruit. I feel the pomegranate juice stain my chin. I feel the tart-bitter taste outside my mouth. I hide my closed lips behind my hand and pretend to savor and chew.
“Here, have more,” Artur says and extends another handful. As soon as I remove my hand, he shoves them at my face. I gasp, but quickly shut my mouth tight. The seeds burst against my skin as I shake my head. I will not taste them, no matter what they do to me. But then I realize that I can’t open my mouth to scream. How will I send a signal to Ruven and Alter? I moan and smile and mime enjoyment of the delicate seeds. Think, Liba, think. There must be a way.
The last of the brothers comes up to me. “I don’t think she tasted anything, dear brothers. Look, her mouth is stained, her cheeks and chin, but not one drop has been consumed. Perhaps a peach will tempt you? I’m Kliment.” He holds a peach up and I smile sweetly.
Suddenly Miron pins me to the table. “What are you playing at?” he growls. His hands are full of grapes when I see him change. He is not a man, he is a beast—a goblin. His arms and legs shrink; his face twists and changes. A bulbous nose grows and a hooked chin gives way to hideous gums and razor-sharp teeth. I want to open my mouth to growl, to will the change to come and tear all of these beasts apart, but I can’t. Not yet. I have to find my sister. I struggle against the arms that pin me down. I will not cave. Nothing they do will get me to open my mouth for their poisoned fruit.
“She is too proud,” one brother barks.
“What’s good enough for one sister is not good enough for the other?” another hisses.
“‘I only came to buy some fruit,’” another mocks.
They are all goblins now, hideous and strange. The enchantment is completely gone. I feel the absence of it in the air, like something palpable. Maybe Ruven and Alter will feel it too? Even if I can’t open my mouth to call, perhaps they will still come.
I decide that I will be still and silent. I will fight these goblin men in my own way. The beast inside me rages, but I won’t let it out. They will not break me. I feel claws dig into my skin, fruit pressed to my arms, my legs; everything is sticky; they mash fruit to my mouth, so much fruit, I cannot breathe. They squeeze juice onto my face—I close my eyes. They tear at my clothing—I press my legs together. They grasp for flesh—I hold my arms tight at my sides. My socks are wet with juice; my toes curl from the cold. One brother grabs my hair and pulls my head back, holding me down. I press my lips together as hard as I can while another brother tries to prise my mouth open with his hard and bony fingers. They hold my hands and shove fruit in them.
I know now what my body can do, but I choose not to shift. Deep inside myself, I find stillness. The river is there and it flows strong. If I am a beast then I am no better than they are. I am not a creature of the forest. I am the Rebbe’s daughter now, a real bat melech—the daughter of a king. I am better than all of them. The one thing we Jews know how to do best is survive. My lips are smothered in fruit flesh, but I will beat them at their own game. I am stronger than they are—not just in body, but in mind too. I have strength of spirit, and I will get what I came here for.
I think of Mami, of her golden hair and her skin, lily-white like mine. I think of all the things she told me, the faith she had in me that I could protect my sister. But I’ve learned that sometimes protecting someone also means letting them go. Maybe that’s what Mami meant all along. I am the beacon that my sister will find her way home to.
I let the golden fire of rage fill me, but I do not shift. I can be like a tree, covered in blossoms. I can be whatever I want to be. These goblins are just wasps and bees who try to sting me, but they cannot penetrate my bark. I erect a golden dome around me, complete with a tall spire. I am a ship at sail. I fly my flag, and they cannot take my standard down.
I feel their pinches like stings, but they do not hurt me. I feel the beat of their legs against mine, but I do not mind their kicks. I feel their claws dig in to maul me, but I too have claws—I am just choosing not to use them. I hear their laughter, but my body quakes with cold. I feel my pulse shudder against my neck, but there is nothing on earth they can do which will cause me to open my lips. I get to choose what kind of strong I want to be. I will be strong for Laya, and this time it means being silent and still.
Soon I hear them slowing, as
they grow tired of this game. Though they’ve ripped my dress to shreds, soiled my stockings with juice, bloodied my arms with their claws, bruised my body with their fists and feet, I will not give in.
I feel the coin I gave them hit my skin. “Take your stupid coin,” they say. “You are not worth ten of your sister. She is gone anyway. She escaped on the back of a golden-white swan. But you are bitter where she was sweet, and even the trees do not want your blood.” Miron spits at me.
She escaped? With a swan? I keep my mouth shut and climb off the table. I am shaking, but more from adrenaline than fear. I may be a bear, but that is not what makes me stronger than all these men.
I fill a basket with fruit and limp my way from the lodge. They do not stop me. I drag one foot, and then another. Everything hurts and my skin tingles. Step by aching step I cross the clearing, leaving the glen, and I feel the enchantment breaking behind me. The trees are withering; the ground quakes. I start to run. I feel the silver coin in my pocket and it gives me courage. They may have broken my body but I defeated them. I got the fruit I came for. I see Ruven and Alter, but I run past them.
I run through the ache and the pain. I only need my sister. She is all that matters. And now I can feel it in my blood, in my untainted veins. I can smell it in the air: she is home. She found her way back. She is waiting for me.
84
Laya
When the wind shifted
I opened my eyes
and a swan landed
in the glen. Sasha.
He stopped in front of Fedir
and spread his wings.
Miron lunged for the bird
but Fedir knew
what he had to do.
He put me on Sasha’s back
and said,
To love means to sacrifice
everything that you are.
I saw him fall down,
weak and drained of blood.
Miron ran to him;
he held him in his arms
like a brother would,
but Fedir was cold and still.