A Bird of Sorrow

by Shea Godfrey

  “You do not have to die!” she called out as she took a handful of fringe in each hand. “Leave this place and never return!” She had their attention, and in the sudden terrible calm, the lieutenant faced her, standing within the protection his men provided. She stood tall as she looked him in the eyes. “Even I would’ve known not to camp in such a narrow passage in unknown lands. You should die for that alone.”

  He pointed his sword at her. “We are in the middle of bloody nowhere, witch!”

  “You are in the middle of somewhere now, though, aren’t you,” Jessa replied in a dry voice and flung her arms forward as she opened her hands.

  The lieutenant was the first to fall, a dozen spikes of twisted black yarn, as solid as steel, passing through his body completely. Five other men cried out in pain and fell, their remaining comrades breaking formation.

  Jessa clapped her hands and her witchlight swelled and then burst, deep blue as it raced outward. The boom that echoed from her hands was like a giant drum being struck, and it shook the earth as it passed through the soldiers. They were thrown to the ground as if hit by a wave from the sea, the witchlight echoing into the darkness.

  Jessa felt a tremble of weakness in her thighs, but she stood where she was as the men before her stumbled to their feet. Her gaze moved past them, and she saw Darry’s Boys ride along the destroyed column, their horses stepping high through the grass just beyond the bulk of the destruction. Etienne and Lucien appeared on her left, as did Jemin and Lucas to her right.

  “Do I have your surrender?”

  One man came forward half a step. “Yes, my Lady. You have it.”

  “Then leave this place now and never return,” Jessa replied, and the soldiers before her stood still as they listened. “Go home. Go east. Seek your fortune elsewhere. Do not fight here again or you will die. Do not return to Lokey,” she warned. “For though you have survived this night, your luck will surely fail if you return empty-handed. Clear the road and see to your dead. Take what supplies you may carry on foot and be gone from my lands.”

  Hinsa moved in a sleek manner about the back of Jessa’s legs, and her sudden appearance caused every remaining soldier to back up. When Bentley’s Bella snorted in protest and threw her head back, the soldiers closed ranks in a nervous manner. They had nowhere to run.

  “For the crime of invading my lands with the sole purpose of killing my family and stealing me from my home…” Hinsa leaned forward and screamed, and there was blood upon her muzzle and down her neck. Even Jessa experienced a chill of fear at the sound. “I will give you three days to ask forgiveness of your gods, and to pray for speed. For if you are still upon my lands by then, my pet and her children will most surely find you.”

  Hinsa screamed again and prowled into the open space before them.

  Etienne stepped forward. “Now would be a good time to start.”

  They sheathed their weapons and stumbled toward the western rise of land, the man who had voiced their surrender calling out orders.

  “My Lady,” Jemin said quietly and Jessa turned.

  He held to the reins of Vhaelin Star, and the filly stood unaffected by the smoke and the stench of death, though her eyes looked fierce with reflected flames. Jessa stepped close, and Jemin leaned over with his hands cupped. She was surprised as she met his eyes.

  “Children,” he whispered, and then smiled. Jessa was lifted up and she swung her leg over as she dropped lightly onto the saddle. “Darry will like that.”

  Bentley maneuvered Bella backward, and the mare obeyed in a rather fancy manner before she sidestepped to the left behind Arkady and the others. Matty rode out of the darkness with their horses in tow, Jessa’s party mounting with the jingle of tack and harness.

  Bella came close and Jessa pulled the reins to the side. “Etienne, Lucien, you’re with us,” Bentley ordered. “Lando?”

  Orlando came around as he pulled his mask down, his white-maned palomino skidding to a stop. “We’ll see that they finish, Bentley, and we’ll bring our wagon round.” Lando’s handsome face held a slight grin. “Looks like we’ll have all the weapons and armor we’ll ever need. Mason Jefs must pay very well.”

  “Bring everything that can be salvaged. If we can’t find a use for it, than Lanark certainly will.” Bentley looked to the right. “The horses, Matty?”

  “The second rise over, just like you planned it,” Matty answered. “They’re bloody fine horses, too.”

  “Find Theroux and Sybok and drive them home. Be quick about it, too.”

  “Aye, Bentley…How’d I do?”

  Bentley looked at the young man with true respect. “You did a man’s job this night, Matty the Younger.” Bentley’s expression was filled with genuine affection. “If you were my own son, I could not be more proud.”

  Matty looked startled for a moment, and then he ducked his head as he turned his horse.

  Bentley clicked his tongue, and Bella pushed Vhaelin Star down the road toward home. Etienne and Lucien fell in behind, and Jessa felt her exhaustion in an odd wash of relief, her shoulders easing. She layered her cloak over her legs as Hinsa ran ahead.

  “Camp is about three miles to the south. We’ll leave for home before the sun comes up.”

  Jessa said nothing as she tried to marshal her feelings. Her heart ached to be home within the hour, but her body was calling out for rest and her head was pounding. She would be no good to Darry without sleep, and she wasn’t sure she could make the ride home without it.

  “Are you all right?” Bentley asked as quietly as he could and still be heard.

  “I threw a man’s head in order to make a point that no one listened to,” Jessa replied and recognized the tired, acerbic tone as Radha’s. It seemed fitting. “Ask me tomorrow, perhaps.”

  Bentley smiled. “Yes, my Lady. I will do just that.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Darry recognized the softness of their bed beneath her body and she opened her eyes.

  She heard the sounds of the fire in the hearth, and she could feel the morning light beyond the drapes that covered the windows. The sheets were smooth and the blankets were warm. She could feel the aches in her muscles and the tension in her shoulders, and she could feel the pain of her isolation from Hinsa. She could feel the absence of her lover against her side.

  She felt weak, and hungry, and thirsty.

  She turned her head.

  The chair beside the bed was empty, and she forced herself to move, wincing as she pulled at the covers and sat up, dropping her legs over the side of the bed. She coughed and her head hurt beneath the force of it, stars floating away from her eyes.

  The door opened and she looked up, as Lady Abagail backed into the room and then turned about smoothly. The dishes upon the tray she carried rattled as Abagail’s shoulders jerked and she slid to a stop. “Jezara’s bloody stockings!”

  Darry smiled.

  Lady Abagail stepped to the nearest table and set the tray atop several piles of books. She grabbed the cup of water and walked quickly to the bed, her eyes wide as she held it out. “Drink it, girl.”

  Darry’s hand trembled as she took the cup, and then she drank, the cold water easing the terrible roughness of her throat. It filled her stomach with cold, and she felt some of the water slip past the edges of her lips and slide down her neck. When she had drained the cup she gave it back. “Thank you, Lady Abagail.”

  “Blessed be the goddess, sweet girl,” the woman whispered, and her free hand touched Darry’s cheek for just a moment. “Welcome back.”

  “Where is Lady Jessa?” Darry glanced toward the fire and the empty sitting room. “Where is my Hinsa?”

  “On a bit of a…a bit of an errand, actually,” Abagail answered, and her tone was odd. “They’ll be back soon enough, don’t you worry.”

  “I would very much like a bath, Lady Abagail,” Darry said, and her voice felt odd in her throat. Her words echoed slightly at the back of her skull. “And some food, please.”
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  “Aye,” Abagail responded, still startled. “Bone broth with potatoes, I should think, and a bit of green. Nothing too much, so soon.”

  “That sounds brilliant.”

  Lady Abagail stared at her, still holding the empty cup.

  “How long have I been sick?”

  Abagail blinked as her senses caught up. “Hiyah, you’ve been asleep for going on six days now, girl. We weren’t sure what would happen. Your Lady has not left your side, but for this one thing.”

  Darry was truly shocked by Abagail’s words, and she turned a bit and looked back at her pillow. It had not been six days in the Loom, it had been…She had no idea what it had been in the Loom, but it had seemed like a day at most, perhaps. Tannen’s words whispered through her thoughts. It bends things. The light and the colors. Time…

  Darry closed her eyes and hung her head a bit. Oh, Jess, my love, I’m so sorry. Her insides twisted at the pain she had caused, for she understood how great Jessa’s fear would be. “If you would draw me a bath, Lady Abagail, I’ll be fine now. I’ll have the food when I am done.” She looked up. “Will that be all right?”

  Lady Abagail smiled, and for a brief second, her eyes held an expression Darry recognized from her own mother. Abagail took a half step forward and touched her cheek again. “Aye, girl,” she said in a gentle voice. “That sounds just about right. It’s good to have you back. I’ve gotten used to you and that pretty cat of yours prowling around my kitchen.”

  Darry’s throat was tight. “I’m very sorry for the worry I’ve caused.”

  Abagail wrinkled up her nose and then smiled. “Never apologize for a thing such as that. There’s plenty of life left for making mistakes that need amends. Getting sick is never one of those things, it just is.” Abagail stepped back. “I’ll go and get things started. You get yourself right, and we’ll have you all fixed up for when your Lady gets home. She’ll have quite the lovely surprise.”

  “Thank you, Abagail.”

  Abagail nodded and then hurried to the door. When it was closed behind her, Darry heard her call out to Bette upon the other side, her voice filled with emotion as she went down the stairs.

  Darry looked about the room again, her eyes sensitive to the light.

  It appeared as if everything from Jessa’s workroom had been moved into their bedroom, and though it seemed somewhat organized in its mayhem, Darry wasn’t sure how Jessa could’ve been comfortable. Darry knew that Jessa liked her space when writing and taking notes, and between the books and medicines, and the endless piles of scrolls, she would’ve had no space at all. Darry wiped at her face and tried to remember all that had happened that night, but the last thing she truly recalled before she entered the Loom was reaching out for Sorrow. Anything that happened after that, in this time, in this place, was a blank.

  She heard Tannen’s certain voice in her head. Release your majik, Darrius. All of it, every last drop you have in you, and let it rise to meet your Cha-Diah blood. Hold nothing back and embrace who you are…

  Darry wasn’t sure how to do that, exactly, but as she sat there, she knew that she wanted it done. She wanted to live her life completely without the weight of so much heartache holding her back, and hounding her thoughts at every turn. She wanted to be well and whole, and the woman that Jessa needed. The woman that Jessa deserved. She wanted to be true to herself, just as Tannen had said. Anything less was a waste of precious life.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath, and then…her heart opened wide in response to the furious need of her wish.

  She let go of her fear for Hinsa, and the terrible need she had always felt for her father’s love. She let go of the chains that held her prisoner, a constant captive to someone else’s definition of duty. She let go of her obligation to her country, and the blood of her name that reached back to the Olden Men of the Taurus. The blood that flowed with the salt of the Sellen Sea and beyond, until the green lands of Arravan had called it home. She let go of her hatred for a brother who had turned from his own truth and embraced a lie, sweeping her up in the tide of his arrogance.

  She let go of the pain and shame of her first love, and her fear of being less than she was expected to be. She let go of everything that had always held her back, all of it, until she found the child who had once gone searching. Searching for the heart of a maze, only to find, instead, the joy of being chosen over all others. The joy of being found after so many lifetimes lost.

  Her majik answered her call, rising in a golden torrent of power and life.

  Darry’s head tipped back, and she cried out softly as it coursed through her veins, a force that was not altogether unknown to her, but new just the same. She felt the wind upon her face as she looked down from the top of the world, a speck of warmth surrounded by the cold, immovable weight of the endless mountains around her. And she felt the force and heat of her fire as it left her fingertips, smashing into the stone, breaking the bones of the world.

  She felt the Cha-Diah majik then, separate and apart, the Dog Star gods rising up in Hinsa’s blood, swirling and racing to meet her. Darry laughed, the magnificence of it all spilling over the constraints of her flesh in a furious, intimate mating of power.

  She was standing when she opened her eyes, and she could see the runes pouring over her body, sliding down her arms and filling her hands with light. She could see the colors splashing to the floor and soaking her feet. She could see them at last, announcing the essence of her majik in a flow of power that was seemingly endless.

  She felt it then, what Enoch had said.

  We are a wild people inside, and in our hearts and in our blood, our majik remains untamed. It is the blood of the Dog Star gods. The Cha-Diah majik is very pure, and more powerful than all other majik.

  Darry reached within her very soul, feeling the wildness of her heart. Hinsa!

  She felt her call race into the distance, moving through the grass and catching a ride, sliding within the grip of the wind and riding it beneath the sun. It was not so very far, in the end, though it was far enough. Darry laughed as she followed the strength and warmth of their bond, chasing down her Cha-Diah mother.

  She felt the pressure within her chest, and Enoch spoke again.

  They must have their own very powerful majik if they are to survive the final bonding. For most of those not of the Fox blood, it came to pass that their hearts could not withstand so much power.

  She could feel it, beneath the joy and wild freedom of it all. She could feel her flesh giving way to the combined power of her Cha-Diah blood, and her own ancient majik.

  Darry looked to the bureau that stood against the wall beside the balcony doors, the memory she needed floating to the surface. She did not remember moving, but the uppermost drawer opened beneath her touch.

  Upon the left, amidst the folds of a long blue silk scarf, Jessa’s treasures were hidden. Darry’s fingers barely brushed the silk, the material slipping about and opening more to her will than her touch. Her runes spilled like water into the drawer, searching.

  Jade and sapphire, and heavy gold. Hair clips and earrings with jewels the size of cherries, and a chain of cut rubies that looked as if the gems had been pulled from the fires of the earth itself. Pearls, as black as tar, strung together on a delicate chain of white gold. A ransom in wealth and beauty, casually held in the folds of a scarf.

  “Adal,” Darry said aloud, and her voice was not entirely her own. It rose from the depths of her body, from the very heart of her blood, a smooth growl of love and power in a single word. She picked up the silver cuff and held it in her hand, remembering the feel of the glyphs when they were new and pronounced beneath Tannen’s fingers. They were worn now, and faded in the silver light, but stronger than all else in the world, molded from a vein of pure Blue Vale silver. “Thank you, my mother.”

  Darry slipped the Shou-ah cuff about her left wrist.

  She watched as it changed and moved, closing about her flesh in a soft swell of hea
t. Darry felt it in her arm at first, a burning that was not entirely unpleasant, and then it raced across her shoulders and spread throughout her chest. The pain in her heart began to ease, and then it spilled outward, Darry grabbing the bureau in order to keep her balance.

  She went to her knees and trembled with the change in force, feeling it shift. The power she had held in the very center of her body flowed freely until it filled every part of her, from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. The weight of her hair shifted about her face and shoulders, the few small braids that remained among the rest turning and unwinding of their own accord.

  Darry closed her eyes and felt as she had within the Yellandale, utterly free and wild, and yet…she was more, for her own majik, which she had fought so hard to repress, was now at one with her Cha-Diah power.

  Little one! We are coming!

  Darry laughed and her tears fell instantly, the last of the untamed Cha-Diah runes slipping down her cheeks and soaking in the softness of her tunic as Hinsa spoke.

  Darry tipped and sat upon the floor, leaning back against the bureau as she covered her face and wept, her tears rising from the most intimate depths of her heart. They could never repay her for the gift of her life. They could never thank her for finally giving Hinsa her voice. Never again would she know the loving kiss of Adal de Hinsa, nor the cold, soft nose of Pallay against the side of her neck. Never again would she look into another’s eyes, so like her own, and see such complete understanding of who she truly was.

  * * *

  Jessa ran from the front courtyard, Master Kenna holding the reins of Vhaelin Star.

  Hinsa had outpaced her, but she covered the front walkways and the cut grass as fast as she could. She took the front steps in a single leap onto the sweeping porch. She threw her cloak to the floor of the main entrance hall after struggling with her brooch, the material ripping as it came free from about her neck and shoulders. She grabbed the rail, pulling herself as she took the stairs two at a time. Her heart was pounding, and as she ran down the hall, she could feel it in her blood, the Vhaelin rising in answer.