It had never occurred to Yim that she would regard a child who had been so traumatically conceived as her own, much less love it. But upon considering the possibility, she realized that she could. He’s innocent , Yim thought, although he’ll be afflicted by what afflicts me now . Yim thought how she might help her son overcome his inner foe, and thus vanquish it from the world. The idea gave rise to hope, the first she had felt since Karm’s last visitation. Then Yim saw the truth in Rupeenla’s words and perceived how love would be her strength.
Yim regarded the faerie. When she saw Rupeenla’s serene but exultant expression, she knew that the Old One understood her thoughts. Yim smiled, and Rupeenla smiled back.
Hope was a tonic to Yim’s spirit as she leisurely strolled about the sheltered forest. It was a relief not to fear pursuit, and she relished it. The high valley seemed like a lofty island of calm in a turbulent world, a place above mankind’s dark deeds. The maples had put on festive gold, while the oaks were adorned in subtle reddish brown. The bright morning sunlight even took the edge off her permanent chill. In all, it seemed an idyllic place, and Yim drank in its peacefulness.
When Yim returned to the stream, she saw Rupeenla and Gruwff waiting for her, though Kwahku was gone. The Old One sat cross-legged on the ground before a large, flat rock that was piled high with nuts, berries, mushrooms, seeds, and honeycombs. There was even a plump hare. Then Rupeenla rose and pressed her lips to Yim’s in a long and loving kiss. The faerie tasted of growing plants, long-weathered rock, still waters, and ancient earth. Yim didn’t want the kiss to end, but it eventually did.
“Before you can sleep, Mother, you must fatten yourself.”
Rupeenla smiled in response to Yim’s thoughts. “Yes, I’ll linger with you awhile. I’m honored that you desire my company.”
Then Yim, Rupeenla, and Gruwff ate together, with Yim gorging herself at the Old One’s urging. She even devoured part of the hare, though she had to eat it uncooked and tear its flesh with her teeth. It didn’t feel unnatural in the presence of Gruwff, and the bear finished what she didn’t. Then the three lazed in the sunshine. Yim enjoyed feeling stuffed, and even dozed a bit. While sleeping, she kept the Devourer at bay and dreamed she was brushing her hands over Honus’s back as his runes spoke to her. “Someday you’ll understand,” they said. “Then all your trials will make sense.”
When Yim awoke, she was surprised that she was hungry again, and pleased to see that the pile of food had been renewed. At this meal, Rupeenla only tasted a few berries, while Yim and the bear stuffed themselves again. This began a routine of eating and sleeping that persisted for days. It was a lazy life, for Yim had no need to forage. The ongoing feast was produced by a stream of animal helpers. Mice and squirrels brought the seeds, nuts, and berries. Skunks gathered mushrooms and roots. Owls and hawks delivered freshly killed hares. To Yim’s special delight, woodpeckers flew in ample servings of wood grubs. The more she ate, the more she was able to eat.
Unlike Rupeenla, Yim couldn’t converse with the bear, but she did gain some understanding of her growls and grunts. A short snuffing sound meant “Are you going to eat that?” A high-pitched grunt said “Try this, it’s delicious.” Moreover, Yim and Gruwff developed a rapport. When Yim dozed between meals, she nestled against the bear and often woke to find Gruwff’s huge forearm about her waist.
By eating so much and so often, Yim quickly grew plump, and when the weather turned cold Rupeenla said, “Mother, I think it’s time to leave with Gruwff for her den. Sleep with her pelt-clad.” Then the faerie bowed deeply. “May I kiss you one last time? We shan’t meet again in this world.”
Yim responded by warmly embracing Rupeenla and kissing her. Afterward, Gruwff gave a long wavering grunt, and when Yim gazed toward her, the bear began to walk away. Yim turned to say good-bye to the faerie, but she was already gone.
Gruwff led the way out of the mountain valley and began to climb the mountain. She set an easy pace, and Yim followed her on the steep slope without too much difficulty. On it, a few stunted trees grew between long stretches of rock and brown grass. Higher up, there were no trees at all, and the slopes were already dusted with snow. From where Yim stood, she could gaze northward and see how sporadic hills gave way to a broad plain that exended to the far horizon. It seemed empty. That’s where I’ll head in spring , she thought. I’ll walk north and go as far as I can .
The vista was hidden when the bear entered another fold in the mountain’s side and descended partway down its interior slope. There, among scrubby trees, was a deep crevice in the rock. Gruwff entered it and disappeared. Mindful that Rupeenla had told her to sleep pelt-clad, Yim removed Yaun’s cloak and her ragged shift and blouse to stuff them in a crack in the crevice’s wall. There, she hoped they’d be protected from the weather.
After her clothing was stowed away for spring, Yim entered the crevice to find the bear. Soon she was cautiously groping her way in near total darkness. The floor sloped sharply downward a distance, but became level when the passage turned. Yim felt dry leaves and grass beneath her feet, and she could hear the bear’s breathing. As she advanced, the covering on the stone floor became deeper. She bumped into Gruwff. Yim bent down and touched the bear’s huge paw, then felt her way around the prone creature until she nestled against Gruwff’s belly and pressed against her thick fur.
As Yim lay still, she felt her body grow quiet. Her heart beat ever less frequently, and her breathing slowed. Thought faded as she drifted into a state more deep and still than sleep. Time lost its grip on Yim as she slipped from awareness and entered a void.
Time passed in the world outside the den. The last leaves fell from the trees. The nights grew longer. Snow fell until it buried all trace of the crevice. Inside Gruwff’s dark refuge, Yim glided through the changes in a state of oblivion. She felt neither warm nor cold. She was unaware that she had found Gruwff’s teat to suckle at it like a cub. Her mind was at peace and empty of dreams, bloody or otherwise.
FORTY-ONE
HONUS SETTLED into the life of a lone wolf. Throughout autumn, he kept attacking sentries at night and observing the searches by day. He slept whenever and wherever he could, but never at any place successively. Eventually he caught a Guardsman who was willing to talk. The man described the subject of Lord Bahl’s search as a woman eighteen winters in age, with walnut-colored hair and dark eyes. Pleased to have his deduction confirmed at last, Honus spared the man’s life, although he was certain that his captive knew more that he told.
Honus’s instance of mercy cost him, for the Iron Guard learned that a Sarf dogged them. As the cold deepened, Bahl’s men hunted him as well as Yim. Honus became more cautious, but not because he feared death. Rather, he was painfully aware that he was Yim’s sole protector. Lord Bahl’s persistent searching both worried and encouraged him. He wondered what Yim had done to provoke such a massive effort, and feared that Bahl intended to wreak some terrible revenge upon her. On the other hand, the ongoing search seemed evidence that Yim was alive and remained nearby. Honus had no idea how Bahl could know that, but he suspected sorcery was involved.
Living in a depopulated and pillaged countryside, Honus depended on his foes for sustenance and winter garb. He wore a Guardsman’s boots and heavy winter cloak. He captured the Guards’ rations and horses and ate them both. Warmth was a perilous luxury, and he risked a fire only on the bitterest nights. The cold seemed to seep into him until he was cold-blooded and coldhearted. Honus became estranged from mercy. Whenever he dealt with a Guardsman, the wrath tattooed upon his face mirrored his feelings. He expressed his rage by meting out swift death. Honus wasn’t cruel, but he was ruthless and efficient. Often during the snowy days and frigid nights, he imagined slaying all of Lord Bahl’s men, so that Bahl would be forced to come out to fight man-to-man.
If rage spurred Honus, so did love. It was torment not knowing where Yim was and how she fared. Honus saw his suffering as proof of his devotion, and he bore hardship as an act of love.
It was the only loving deed possible.
The sole happiness Honus experienced came from the memories of the dead. He had tranced infrequently after Yim had become his Bearer because she, like Theodus, hadn’t approved of his habit of seeking joy upon the Dark Path. Moreover, with Yim by his side, Honus seldom felt the need. With her gone, the urge returned with renewed force. Trancing was a chancy business where so many atrocities had taken place. Honus frequently encountered them on the Sunless Way and was forced to relive their horrors. Afterward, finding a blissful memory felt all the more urgent. What Honus treasured most were moments of love and passion. After encountering one of those, Honus briefly felt warm and sustained. Yet soon the feeling would fade, to be replaced by emptiness and longing. Then Honus would trance again.
As the season dragged on, Lord Bahl ceased searching the area around the stronghold, and sent out foot and horse patrols that were often gone for days. That forced Honus to change his tactics. Since he couldn’t follow all the patrols, he transformed from a warrior into a spy. He ceased harassing Bahl’s troops. Instead, he observed their comings and goings, looking for any sign that might indicate that Yim had been found.
When the days lengthened with the approach of spring, Honus captured a horse and stabled it in a remote ruin. Although keeping a mount was risky and required time and effort, Honus thought it was prudent. If Yim was still in Averen, she would be more likely to take to the road with the arrival of warm weather. If she was captured, a horse might be required to save her.
Awareness came to Yim in brief episodes spread over many days. She would occasionally leave the dreamless void and enter sleep. Then, she would have a sleeper’s vague sense that she possessed a body that dwelt in time and space. Then one day, she passed from sleep to wakefulness. Yim realized that she was in a cold den, lying naked beside a bear. When she lifted her head, the bear stirred also. Yim yawned. “Good morning, Gruwff.”
The bear grunted, rose, and left the den. When Yim sat up, her body felt out of balance and wrong. Her hands went to her belly, where she was startled to feel a large rounded bulge capped by a protruding bump where her navel had been. Then Yim cupped her breasts in the dark and found them enlarged and tender. Having assisted the Wise Woman in birthing babies, Yim knew all about pregnancy’s changes. But her transformation felt instantaneous, and so it alarmed her. Moreover, a pregnant woman’s belly should feel warm, but hers was unnaturally cold.
Yim stood up. Unaccustomed to her body’s new center of balance, she staggered clumsily to the den’s entrance. When she stepped into the morning’s watery sunlight, she gaped at herself a long while, despite the frigid air. Her breasts looked even larger than they had felt. They also drooped and were tipped with nipples that were dark and distended. Yet it was her curved abdomen that seized her attention. It seemed to dominate her body as a mountain dominates a landscape. Yim stared at it, trying to accustom herself to its appearance, but it looked too alien.
When the cold drove Yim to dress, she removed the clothes that she had stored in the crevice and discovered a nest of mice within them. She shook the creatures from her garments. Gruwff hungrily snapped one up while Yim surveyed the damage they had done. There was a gaping hole in the front of her shift and parts of her blouse had be gnawed and shredded also. The ruined garments would shame a beggar and only barely met the needs of modesty. Fortunately, there were only two fist-sized holes in the cloak. Yim quickly dressed, then stood shivering in the cold.
Yim took her shivering as a sign that her otherworldly chill had shifted to her growing child. She still felt a vestige of it, but her discomfort seemed mostly due to the weather. High on the mountain, spring was more a promise than a reality. Broad patches of snow still covered much of the slope, snow that Yim would have to walk through barefoot to reach the lowlands.
Gruwff turned to look at Yim and then gave a long cry before heading down the slope. After going a short distance, the bear stopped and turned to gaze at Yim again, giving her the impression that she was supposed to follow. Yim did, and the bear led her down the mountainside. The long and grueling descent was especially difficult, because Yim was unsure of her balance. She feared her clumsiness would send her tumbling down the steep slope at any moment, and it caused her to lag ever farther behind. For some reason, the bear didn’t slow down, and after a while, Yim followed only tracks in the snow. Yim felt deserted as well as awkward, cold, and ravenous. She was so miserable that she burst out bawling. Yim recalled all the moody mothers-to-be that the Wise Woman had tended and realized that she had become one.
The bear descended the mountain using a route completely different from the one she had taken to the den. It was less direct, and veered sharply to the east. When Yim reached the lower slope and could no longer discern Gruwff’s tracks, she was far from Bahl’s stronghold. Yim had spied no dwellings from the higher elevations, and she saw no trace of humanity closer up.
Yim continued down the ever-gentler incline and entered a forest where the trees had leafed out and the air was milder. Slumping on a fallen log to rest, she was too exhausted and hungry to appreciate the change. Yim had never felt so hungry in her life, and her hunger had a keen and desperate edge. I must feed more than myself now , she thought. At that moment, she felt movement inside her womb, a reminder of the other life within her. It made the baby seem less abstract, and its needs more immediate. Yim rose wearily to complete her descent into the lowlands where she might forage for food.
As Yim traveled through the forest seeking mushrooms and spring greens, she caught no sight of Gruwff. Certain that the bear was also hungry, Yim wondered if the creature was having better luck at foraging. Her efforts had yielded little, for it was still early in the season. Then Yim heard a hoarse bellow and saw Gruwff in the distance. The bear lifted a limp hare from the ground, shook it once, set it down, and bellowed again. As Yim started in Gruwff’s direction, the animal turned and lumbered off into the woods. When Yim arrived at where the bear had stood, she saw no sign of her other than the freshly killed hare. It seemed like a parting gift.
The hare was still warm when Yim lifted it to gnaw at the soft hide at its neck. She spit out several mouthfuls of fur before her teeth penetrated the skin. Then Yim pushed her fingers into the hole to rip it wider. Warm blood spilled on them, and Yim succumbed to a sudden compulsion to lick it off. When she tasted the blood, she instantly craved more. The urge felt stronger than hunger or thirst. Without an instant’s hesitation, Yim raised the dead creature high and drank greedily from its throat. The blood flowed, warm and strangely intoxicating. It dribbled down Yim’s chin and onto her clothes, but she gave it no heed. When the flow lessened, she squeezed the small corpse to wring out the last drops. When no more came, she dropped the drained hare and shook like a drunkard who had emptied the last bottle. She craved more, but there was none to be had.
Yim trembled awhile until the craving passed. Then she was ashamed and horrified by what she’d done. She stared at the fresh stains on her rags, feeling perplexed by her unseemly desire and the strength of it. Her fear that she couldn’t trust herself resurfaced. A dark spirit remained within her, ready to bend her to its needs. The gory evidence of its power marked her face, hands, and clothes. Yim resolved to be more wary of its presence.
Despite her chagrin over what she had done, Yim was still ravenous and in need of sustenance. She devoured the hare with more delicacy than when she had drunk its blood, but with equal thoroughness. Someone whose need was not so great would have been appalled at the sight. When Yim finished her meal, there was little left. Not a shred of flesh remained. The bones were cracked for marrow, and the skull was smashed for the brains. The liver and the heart were gone, leaving only offal, shattered bones, and a torn hide. Yim rose from her meal feeling satisfied and went searching for a stream where she might drink. When she found one, she also washed as a nod to civilization, although her hands had been licked clean already.
When Yim had looked for water, she also h
ad looked for Gruwff and Kwahku, although she expected to find neither. She sensed that the Old Ones could no longer help her. Yim couldn’t say how she had come to that conclusion, but instinct told her it was true. She was on her own, and she felt that was the way it must be.
Yim spent the night buried beneath a pile of leaves. Upon rising with the sun, she didn’t bother to brush them from her rags or tangled hair. Yim drank from a stream, then began to walk. Existence had been reduced to two imperatives—travel unseen and eat. She hoped they were compatible. A new phase in my life , she thought. My feral one . First, she had been a lonely girl preparing for a great task. Then she had been a slave. Next, a holy one. And soon I’ll be a mother . Throughout it all—stringing them together like beads on a necklace—was Karm’s will. Yim’s resentment toward the goddess had dulled to resignation. Karm had achieved her purpose and disappeared like Gruwff and Kwahku. Yim expected no more visions. How can Karm speak to me when the Devourer’s always listening?
Feeling abandoned, Yim tried to tell herself that she didn’t care. Yet it stung. Karm was the only mother Yim had ever known. The goddess had been often unfathomable and always unpredictable, but that had only spurred Yim to strive to be the perfect daughter, obedient and diligent. Old habits made Yim wonder if she might earn the goddess’s love and gratitude by turning Lord Bahl’s child from evil. Then the goddess could return to my life! Despite everything that had happened, the concept had appeal.
The immediacy of hunger soon drove such speculations from Yim’s mind. Chancing upon a deep brook, she tried to catch a fish with her hands as she had seen Honus do on several occasions. Unfortunately, Yim lacked his patience and skill. Then she foraged an unsatisfying meal of woody mushrooms. She ate these while she walked northward. As the sun rose higher in the sky, Yim continued to walk and forage. The walking sharpened her hunger faster than the foraging dulled it. By noon, she felt famished, and the pangs in her stomach increased as the day wore on.
[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm Page 30