Deliverance

by Samantha Schinder

  “And I you, Jack…oh!” Deliverance exclaimed, reclaiming her hands from Jack. She felt tentatively around her neck and brought the chain he had given her forth. From it, dangling like a bronze berry, was his mother’s ring. “You were right! The chain did not falter! Even through the whole ordeal.”

  “If you had lost it, I would not have cared,” Jack told her. “All I care is that you and Eleanor and everyone are alive and safe.”

  “Well I care!” Deliverance exclaimed with mock indignance. “I mean to wear it!” And with that she slid it from its chain and onto her ring finger.

  “Does this mean…?” Jack asked, not daring to believe. She nodded and he grabbed her up in his arms, swinging her around and kissing her until she was dizzy.

  “I do not think there is much to salvage here. Shall we go back and tell the others?” Deliverance asked, turning to leave.

  But Jack stopped her. “Wait. Didn’t you say you had a cache beneath the floorboards?” he asked her, and she nodded. “Shall we see if anything survived there?”

  Indeed, he was right. The cache was low enough in the floor the contents had escaped relatively unscathed. After casting aside the singed floorboard, she first plucked out her snow globe of Arcanton, sooty, but cleanable, the miniature city now familiar under the thick, marred dome. Then her mother’s grimoire, the cover warped with heat, but her healing recipes on the parchment pages inside intact. A folder with the names of her ancestral line had been charred beyond recognition, but Deliverance knew Cat could recite it from memory anyway, so it was no great loss. Most of the other books crumbled past saving when Deliverance sifted through them, until she came to the last one at the bottom. The Odyssey. The cover curled in heat damage at the edges, but the book itself was intact. Deliverance lifted it carefully, cradling it against her.

  It was then she noticed the page affixed to the front cover had come unglued slightly from the heat of the fire. Fiddling with it, she realized there was something behind it, something almost plasticky, glued between the cover and the first page of the manuscript. As she pried it free, she realized it was a polaroid of her family. In its time-warped colors, there she sat between both her parents on a winter morning, John’s arm stretched out to its full length to collect them all in the shot. They were all grinning ear to ear, enjoying one of their winters together as a family.

  It was here all along, Deliverance mused, and she never knew. He was here all along.

  CHAPTER 34

  Deliverance

  Their newly obtained carefree state, however, was short lived. When they returned to camp, it was evident there was a problem. Tensions were palpable as they passed through tent structure after tent structure.

  “Where is everyone, do you think?” Deliverance asked, a suspicious feeling snaking up her spine.

  Shouts over in the direction of the field where Eleanor had been conducting her healing operations indicated they should head that way.

  “It’s not my fault!” Eleanor’s cry came to them over the top of a sea of heads. Jack and Deliverance elbowed their way to the front, though once the crowd realized who was doing the elbowing, they parted of their own accord.

  Eleanor stood with Addie and Effie on either side of her. The baker had his finger pointed at Eleanor’s face, in the appearance of giving her a good dressing down.

  “Think very carefully about whether or not you want to lose that finger,” Jack said dangerously as he rounded the man’s field of view.

  The baker, a portly man resembling a potato, had thunder in his face. He quickly brought himself into check once he saw Jack, however.

  “She says there ain’t nuffin wrong with me!” he accused Eleanor, scowling at her.

  “I fail to see the problem, or why that would cause you to verbally accost my sister,” Jack replied smoothly.

  “That’s just it, Jack…” Eleanor said to her brother, tugging his sleeve. “There IS nothing wrong with him.” Jack raised his eyebrows at his sister, not comprehending.

  “What she means is,” Addie broke in, explaining for the flustered girl, “is that there is no malady for Eleanor to cure. There is nothing at all. The man has no magic to latch onto and nothing in his bloodstream indicating he even has the ability to do magic.”

  Eleanor regained her words. “It’s been like that with all the men I’ve tried to treat today! This is the first day I’ve attempted to treat any of the males. Up until now I have only cured a few dozen females.”

  “She’s doing it on purpose!” An indiscriminate voice rang out from the crowd. Jack whirled on them, prepared to do violence on his sister’s behalf, but Deliverance caught his sleeve.

  “What about Tobin? Have you tried to cure Tobin?” Deliverance asked Eleanor. She nodded and the lad appeared, ducking through the crowd to come stand with her and the others.

  He took Effie’s hand and affirmed “Aye she did, Miss. She tried but there weren’t nuffin there for her to fix.”

  “We love Tobin,” Deliverance called out, her voice ringing clear. “Effie went to gaol on the boy’s account, for Fades’ sake. If Eleanor cannot cure him, then she is telling the truth.”

  Deliverance let her words settle over the crowd. For the longest moment, nobody spoke, lost in a quagmire of possibilities.

  Addie cleared her throat. “It seems, and we would not have known this before, having only had female test subjects, that the magical illness is hereditary and passed through a double X chromosome combination…females. The males on the island must have been rendered magically obsolete centuries ago as a result of the spells it took to bind the island. Due to…inbreeding,” she coughed slightly at this, “the men here have never regained any magical aptitude or genetic markers to carry magic in their blood.” She let them digest her speech for a moment before declaring, “They are, for all intents and purposes, magic-less.”

  The crowd stirred. A group of girls sat in a line along the edge of the activity, having been cured earlier that day. They shuffled uncomfortably as they felt a mix of glares and considering stares upon them. Mrs. Potter had been serving them each tea before the ruckus ensued, and glared back at the crowd, daring them to make one jealous move against the girls who had just now regained their rightful powers.

  “Well, what are we supposed to do now?” another voice from the crowd rang out.

  The baker chimed in, “Aye—my wife has already been cured! What am I to do?”

  The baker’s wife emerged and looked at his crossly. “Well I’m not bloody well giving up my powers now. Especially not for you, you faithless lout,” she declared primly and marched off toward camp. The baker looked terribly at a loss. Deliverance did not blame his wife…especially not after the warts issue.

  “I love my wife and daughters!” the Reave called out. “Can I still come with them? I want them to be cured and have a better life!”

  Addie, the expert on genetics, considered the issue, cocking one fey head to the side, running through the variables in her mind.

  “It should not be an issue,” she said finally. “You are not contagious and are not in danger of spreading it to future generations. I confirmed this with blood samples when we first tried to cure Tobin.”

  “Bu
t, we’d have to go into a world full of magic when we’ve none of our own to defend ourselves,” the cartwright protested. This caused a stir of consternation amongst the crowd. “What about our sons? Are they to be left impotent?”

  It was Jack who fielded his concern. “Aye. It would be a brave undertaking. There are some in our world who go their entire lives without really using their powers. Our technology is so great we’ve come not to rely on our powers. There are many among us who still choose to, but it is not the norm. Plenty of people spend their lives with little to no magic in it, content to rely on the mind and its innovations instead.” He let this settle in before continuing, “But it is your choice. You can choose to stay here. Here are my two warnings. The first is that your wives and daughters will be allowed, free of any interference from you, to choose for themselves whether they wish to leave Nar or not. The second is that once we are gone, so is your chance to leave. The Arcanton military will begin patrolling the waters outside Nar. Any attempts at fleeing after we are gone will be met with deadly force. Eleanor has several days of healing left ahead of her. Make your choices, and may you choose wisely.”

  With that, Niles dispersed the crowd and they went about their business, some grumbling and some deep in contemplation about the choice before them. It was, Deliverance thought to herself, a daunting one. Stay in the familiar world with little more than a quarter of the island’s population left alive or risk everything, venturing into a new world that promises great rewards but could also hold great danger? Be potentially defenseless against other men with powers like Jack’s? She shook her head. It was a conundrum.

  ***

  Eleanor carried on her healing, with Addie, Cat, and Mrs. Potter to support her. She revealed many hedge and kitchen witches, some healers, and many soothers. A few were elemental benders like Effie, though none wielded fire like her. Air and water. No earth movers among them. A couple had mental gifts such as object levitation or telekinesis, but none as eerie as Eleanor or John’s powers, thank the gods. She worked with a single-minded determination through all hours, only pausing when she was depleted and could carry on no further without respite.

  In the end she cured over fifty women. The rest had either perished in the fire or decided to remain on Nar with their families. Deliverance scanned the crowd readying to pack up camp and depart after Eleanor had declared she was finished and all the final tests confirmed those who were to depart were disease-free.

  They seemed so few, and yet they were able to save many, Deliverance thought. Not as many as she had hoped, though; her heart weighed heavy, sinking into the charred soil of the island with those who had lost their lives. It was such a waste and for naught but ignorance and hate. The casualties of war, Jack had called it, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Are many wars like this? Undeclared, without law or regulation?” Deliverance had asked him.

  “Most, unfortunately, are. There are all kinds of battles, love. Many are violent or have violent consequence. But it does not make the aim less chivalrous or the cause less valid,” Jack told her, wrapping her in his arms as if he meant to soften the blows of the world by shielding her from them bodily.

  When they were ready to depart, Jack broke through the tearful and sometimes angry farewells, offering those staying one final chance.

  “You can still come. We will stop everything, cure your women, and take you with us. Just say the word,” Jack pleaded with those who remained, the paltry few families determined to stick it out on a now almost deserted island. None took his offer, however, and after they loaded the last of their ponies onboard, they pulled the dinghies up and secured them in their holdings.

  A pall fell over those onboard the Daedalus. No one waved. No one called farewell. The eerie silence permeated with only the lap of the water on the belly of the boat to break the hush. In this moment, their freedom seemed pyrrhic. Everyone stood still as Plaedic statues, watching the few fated families lined up along the shore as they grew smaller and smaller upon the horizon. Eventually, the Island of Nar, itself, was no more.

  CHAPTER 35

  Deliverance

  Several Weeks Later

  The roar of the sea on chalky cliffs, pushing flotillas of aquatic birds eve closer to sandy surfs, soothed Deliverance as she remembered the events on Nar. Sometimes she would awaken, crying out in terror in the middle of the night, until Jack soothed her back to sleep. Here, in the Arcanton countryside by the sea, she could almost pretend she was back home on Nar…almost. The spaces were vaster, the sunbaked coastline more rolling and yellow than the piney-craggy ridges of Nar. But the smell of the salty sea was the same, the crash of waves upon cliffsides, the feeling of being able to stretch one’s arms and reach tip to tip without a soul to judge.

  As she continued her daily constitutional along the coastline, she shielded her eyes from the sun and regarded Morwenchase in the distance. It stood out upon the horizon, even from afar. Its wings stretching out over a generous lawn. Deliverance could spy from here a group of ladies playing a game in the garden. She knew Mrs. Potter would be hard at work there as well, teaching a new group of hedge witches which herbs to use for head colds, and how to coax the deepest blooms from a rosebush. Stevens, likewise, was coaching new airbenders through various drills, strengthening their grasps of their gifts with patient words and a jovial smile.

  Just beyond the steepled stables of the estate, a herd of wild ponies thundered over the rolling hills, kicking their heels and frolicking, enjoying the last of the autumn sun before the winter had the countryside in its clutches. Deliverance knew it was one of the last days of decent weather they would have before torrential rains came and then eventually turned to sleet and snow. Even so, she pulled her thick, woolen shawl closer to ward off the fingers of cool air seeping down her collar.

  In the distance, Deliverance heard a whoosh and saw flames leap into the sky. Jack was hard at work clearing back some of the overgrown farmland for his newest tenants, trying to get as much done before the weather turned. Effie gladly aided in these efforts, a new carefreeness settling on her friend, the likes of which Deliverance had never seen before. She smiled to herself, running a finger along her lips. These were among the happiest days she had ever known. Cat had gone off to Antarticus with Lord Asher, but they promised to return by spring. Addie had taken up residence close by, monitoring the new emigres progress and health, although Deliverance secretly thought it might have something to do with Effie as well. Eleanor was already whipped up into an excited flurry about getting to celebrate both Christmas and Yule this year.

  Deliverance’s life now, despite the trials to achieve it, was filled with joy. Soon it would be filled with handfasting feasts and wedding bells.

  As she turned to walk back toward Morwenchase, she glanced around her, assuring herself she was entirely alone. Then, with a smile upon her lips, she brought her hand up and with a flash of green, lit a small scintilla of fire on her fingertips. She delighted in dancing it from finger to finger for a moment, before extinguishing it with a giggle. It was her little secret. No one had to know, for now.

  NOTES

  “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

  ~ H.P. Lovecraft

  Uncontac
ted peoples are a source of fascination not only amongst anthropologists but the world in general. These are the last tribes of people who, generally through choice of their own, reject contact with the outside world. Most of these peoples live in extremely isolated pockets of the world, like the deep, dense jungles of South America. The Sentinelese are a hostile island people who live on an island in archipelago of India’s Great Andaman Island Chain in the Indian Ocean. Anthropologist estimate from what little they could garner of their language they have been living in isolation for over 60,000 years.

  Efforts to contact the Sentinelese have been met with hostility and Indigenous rights groups insist on their right to choose isolation. The Indian government and the local Andaman Administration have adopted a “hands-off eyes-on” approach to keep interlopers from harassing the island.

  The controversy over the issue of uncontacted peoples sparked inspiration for Deliverance. While in reality these peoples have little immunity to outside diseases and have displayed every signal of not desiring contact, so a hands-off approach has been the safest for all concerned. Some like the idea of preserving these uncontacted cultures like they are an endangered species. Others are dying to bring them modern medicine and technology, to help improve their lives. Overtures of aid have been met with violence. But it does beg the question—what if they fully understood what the outside world had to offer? Would they still choose to remain in isolation? Who amongst them decides? What if some of these isolated people would, if offered a different choice, choose to step off into the outside world?

  Thankfully, the Indian government has held the Sentinelese in much higher regard than the fictitious people of Nar. After the tsunami in 2004 the Indian Coast Guard was able to drop food off on the beaches for the people. They were promptly shooed away with spears and arrows.