by A. Sparrow
I watched calmly as Urszula appeared, tall in her saddle, silhouetted against the bluish sun. Seraf hovered down and landed softly on the mudflats.
Urszula slid down the side of her bug and came striding over with that cocky aggression that always made it seem like she was coming to kill me.
She looked askance at my daisies and ferns.
“So girlish, this. You are such a girl.”
“And how would you know?”
“I beg your pardon?” She puffed herself up and preened, curving her fingers to her lips, pretending to blow on nails hooked like claws. “You question my femininity?”
“Never.”
She stood arms folded, legs apart and glared at me. “The monsoon is coming. You can’t stay here. This place will flood.”
“So when it does, I’ll deal with it. Maybe I’ll put my shack up on stilts like they do in Malaysia.”
“Come to the tablelands. We have plenty of space. You can have your own mountain.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be sticking around much longer.”
“Oh? Is life so good you must return to Earth?”
“No. I’m heading to the Deeps.”
“Fool! Why?”
“I promised Karla I’d go find her.”
“That is impossible! The place is more vast than you can imagine and swarming with souls. It would be like searching for a lemming in the steppes.”
“Steps?”
“Steppes,” she said, sneering. “Think prairie.”
“Yeah, well … whatever. I can’t see myself hanging around here. And … there’s nothing for me back in … on Earth. I almost wish I had died, and gotten it over with.”
“Over? There is no such thing as over. Nothing is ever over.”
“It is … if I can’t find Karla.”
“Oh stop! You’re such a drama boy. Even if you did find her, she would be changed.”
“I don’t care. She’ll still be Karla.”
“You may not even recognize her. Because you will be changed as well.”
That, I seriously doubted. After all I’d been through; I was still the awkward, introverted kid I had been in Florida. I did feel a little bit older. And I could do some freaky things with a sword now. But something told me I would always be that shy kid deep inside, even after a thousand years had passed.
But then again, it was pretty clear that the Deeps had changed Urszula. It was hard to make out any trace of the thirteen year old girl that she had been before she died. That is, other than her fondness for furry creatures, even if they tended to have six legs and exoskeletons here.
The wind carried the sound of someone whistling something faintly Celtic, some kind of jig or a reel. We turned to find Bern strolling into the hollow, having crossed the plains from the direction of his cabin in the pit. He had an open umbrella propped over his shoulder even though the rain had stopped.
He approached us with a bit of hesitation. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“What could you possibly be interrupting?”
Bern shrugged. “I don’t know … just … didn’t want to intrude on your little powwow … war planning … or what-what.”
“I would think twice about walking those plains in the daylight old man,” said Urszula. “Not all of my comrades know you as a friend.”
“Personally, I’m more worried about the Frelsians,” said Bern.
“No need. They are hunkered down in their Sanctuary, licking their wounds. It will be some time before they feel so adventurous again.”
“Yes, it certainly was nice last night having no Reapers mucking around the surface. Wish I could say the same for down below. Business is still booming in the tunnels.”
“Of course,” said Urszula. “That is the nature of life. Spewing out floods of unhappy people.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Bern. “People like us, we’re just the tip of the iceberg. Most of humanity seems able to cope.”
“Most of humanity is deluded,” said Urszula.
“Don’t knock delusion as a coping mechanism,” said Bern. “If delusion is what it takes, I say the more power to them. What I’d give for a delusion or two when things went bad for me way back when.”
A flight of six mantids came gliding over the butte and out over the plains, scepters at the ready in the hands of their riders. Bern took off his hat and used it to screen the sun from his eyes as he watched them go.
“Looks like your friends are out to make recruiting for Frelsi a little more difficult.”
“That is why I told you to take care,” said Urszula. “Our days of mercy are over.”
Bern looked around the hollow, his eyes lingering on the burial mound beneath the willow. “Where’s your shelter? Where did you spend the night, boy? Out in the open? In all this rain and mud?
“Didn’t bother me.”
“Why don’t you come stay with me?” said Bern. “The cabin’s still in decent shape. Needs a bit of sprucing up, but the Weaving is so easy now that I’ve had some altitude training.”
“No. This is where I want to be right now.”
“Well, of course. You’re in mourning. It’s understandable. But there will come a time when—“
“I’m not hanging around. I’m going after her, Bern.”
“What? Where?”
“He means the Deeps,” said Urszula.
“I’m going there and bringing her back.”
“But how? You’re going to let yourself be eaten by those smelly—”
“There’s got to be other ways,” I said, looking straight at Urszula. “I mean … she got here … and her friends.”
“That old passage is closed,” said Urszula. “The powers that be made sure of that.”
“Now, don’t be rash, James. You had better think this through. From what I’ve heard, these Deeps are not a place where you want to get stuck for the rest of your existence.”
“If she’s there … I don’t care. If that’s where she is, that’s where I want to be.”
Bern sighed. “I know how you feel. Can’t say I haven’t been tempted to head back to Frelsi, even though I’m a marked man now.” He showed the D on his arm. “I sure hope Lille is alright.”
“I wonder … about my mom. If she remembers me yet … at all.”
“Listen, this amnesia business. It might only be temporary. The repairs to my leg are already starting to reverse. Looks like this flesh Weaving needs constant maintenance or else it unwinds. On the bright side, means there’s hope for brains. It wasn’t like they gave her a permanent lobotomy.”
“That’s promising, I guess. Sorry to hear about your leg.”
“Oh, it’s no bother. I’m used to it. That’s what canes are for. Listen, how about you two come over to my place for tea? Maybe Urszula and I can talk you out of this Deeps business.”
Urszula arched an eyebrow. “You would deign to have tea with a demon?”
“Listen. About all that demon business. I never meant it in a way … I mean I didn’t mean to—“
Seraf, who had been preening her antennae by the pond, clattered into action, raising her forelegs, facing the opening of the canyon onto plains.
“Someone’s coming,” said Urszula.
A lone and slender figure appeared at the mouth of the canyon and was standing there looking at us as the wind buffeted her hair.
“Your woman?” said Urszula.
“Karla?” said Bern. “Is it possible?”
I shot up and started walking towards her, heart pumping like a jackhammer. But then I noticed the slight stature, wavier hair of a lighter shade. “Wait. That’s … Isobel.”
“Oh, that’s such a shame, that the poor girl’s been forced back here,” said Bern. “She must be sad about her sister.” We looked around at each other in an awkward silence. “On the bright side … it gives us a foursome for tea. What do you say, you all? Perhaps we can catch a ride on Urszula’s beast.”
<
br /> “Bern, she might not know.”
“Might not know what?”
“Isobel might not know that Karla died. She ran off before it happened.”
Bern sighed. “I see. How do you suppose we handle this?”
“She needs to be told. She’s gonna need some hugs.”
“And then … can we have some of this … tea?” said Urszula.
“Of course, my lovely, of course! And I’ll weave up some scones to boot. Maybe some cream puffs as well. God knows that child’s spirits will need some raising.”
Isobel resumed walking towards us. Her whole body seemed to droop. I raised my hand high and waved. Half a football field away, she started sprinting. Her face was blank with shell-shock. Did that mean she already found out what had happened?
Her eyes were damp as she rushed over and hugged me, but she wasn’t crying.
“She’s gone,” said Isobel. “I saw it … in the news.”
“I know.”
“But how? She was in a safe place and healthy. Did Papa get to her?”
“No. Some bad magic took her from this side.”
I took her hand and led over to Bern, who gave her a long and hearty hug. Urszula was up preparing Seraf’s saddle. It would be a tight fit, but she could manage four riders for the short hop back to Bern’s place.
But first she needed to see her sister’s grave. I hoped she would appreciate the daisies and ferns more than Urszula had.
*****
THE END