Chapter 107 Something Worth Protecting (Part 2)

"You look well. Both of you look well," Tom said, leading us past the gate. "Scared me stiff though, the way you just came out of the woods like that. Scared me stiff, I say."

Hamel's wall was taller than it had been, but the village itself was exactly how I remembered it. The low huts. The mud paths between them. And the many earthy scents, all blending together.

"Didn't think you'd be guarding a gate, Tom," Ash said. "Did you quit your life on the road?"

Tom laughed. "Nothing like that. We pull sticks to decide the shift. Ain't got any real guards, but anything's better than nothing. Got the short one today right on the day I came back. Just my luck," he said.

"Since when does Hamel keep a watch at all?" Ash asked. "Or a wall that tall?"

"Wolves," Tom said. "More of 'em in the woods lately than anyone can remember. Ain't lost nobody, mind. But better safe than sorry. Someone had the bright idea to raise the wall and put two of us out here of a night with these." He tapped the butt of his spear against the dirt.

We had fought wolves in those woods when they had surrounded Tom's cart. They had been trifling creatures. It was good that nothing worse than wolves had come for Hamel. Without us here, tugging at the fabric of the world, I hoped nothing ever would.

Then Tom stopped twenty paces from the gate, and looked at us again. He looked at our arms. At the Sigils that now covered them. "Figure a lot's happened with you lasses then, eh?"

"It has," Ash said.

"And you brought a friend," Tom said, glancing at Alisa, who was still standing behind Ash and me, for some reason. The girl finally stirred, and stepped out from behind us.

"My name is Alisa Wulfram," Alisa said. Surprisingly, her chin did not rise. Not even by a hair. "Thank you for having me."

Tom looked at her and nodded thoughtfully. He smiled, and the smile covered almost his entire face. "It's good to have you, little miss. Don't have much here, but we'll do our best. If you need something, just let someone know."

"Thank you," Alisa said. The words sounded more strained than I expected from her. Ash and I shared a glance. She had heard it too, then.

Finally, Tom turned and regarded Solara atop my head. I felt the baby phoenix shift. She raised herself, no doubt rising to her full height. She let out a chirp of only moderate volume this time. "Pretty thing, that is," Tom said. "Never seen anything like her. She's just like that-" He shook his head. Perhaps he remembered Solara's predecessor, the one that had descended on this village in a column of fire. "Anyway, Martha will be damned happy to see you both. Ain't a day goes by she don't mention one of the two of you. Keeps worrying if you're eating well, fitting in, all sorts of things. Now you're back here, so-"

"We have returned," I said, "but only for a few hours. When the sun rises, we will leave again." I had forgotten. Tom had the singular talent of talking without the need for breath. If I said nothing now, then I would never have the chance to say anything.

Tom paused. He looked at me, and then at Ash. He even looked to Solara. His shoulders slumped as he deflated by a visible degree. "You're both serious then, aren't you?"

"We are," I said.

"Well… she ain't gonna like that part," Tom said with a deep sigh. Then he rose again, and regained only some of his earlier bluster. "No matter that. You're here. Come on, the wife'll be awake. She always is when I end up on watch."

Martha laid out a bowl of stew in front of me. It was my second. I had not asked her for another, but the woman had set it in front of me anyway. Once, I had not understood why she did it without my asking. Now, I understood some of it, but only some.

I ate. When I had first come to Hamel, these single bowls of stew had been the finest things I had ever eaten. I ate them now, and saw all the deficiencies I never had before. The stew was a simple thing. There were only a few flavors in it at all. The meat, a root vegetable, salt, and a single herb I could not name. The dishes at the Academy had carried more than this.

But there was something to this bowl that could not be reduced down to its flavor. That was not the herbs that had made it. Eating it made me feel warm. If the woman set down a third bowl, I would have that. If she set down a fourth, I would have that too.

Martha and Tom sat across from us. She had been cooking when we came into the hut, and the sight of us had almost been enough to make her fall over and tip her cooking pot and ladle both. She sat us down at the small table, the same one we had eaten at on our first day in Hamel. Alisa took the spot Marsh had once taken. The girl ate her own stew with far less enthusiasm than I, but she ate. She was forcing herself, and smiling through it. I did not understand why.

Solara pecked at my bowl, letting out small chirps of appreciation every few pecks. She, at least, understood the value of this.

"What's wrong with those fools? First they take you away, now they bring you back only to take you away again?" Martha grumbled under her breath, watching us. "You tell 'em to come talk to me. I'll set them straight. Doesn't matter who it is, some things just ain't right."

Alisa let out a strange choking sound. I pictured this woman walking up to Arianrhod and trying to 'set her straight'. It would have been quite a sight, if a short-lived one. We had explained our situation to them. Or at least, Ash had. She had explained it in only vague terms. That we were here for a few hours, and would leave come the morning. How we had arrived, and how we meant to leave, she had kept a secret. Martha and Tom had looked at each other and not pressed.

We had not agreed to keep any of it secret, but it was no matter. Ash knew these humans far better than I. If she thought it was for the best, then it likely was.

"Solara, are you enjoying yourself?" I asked the bird.

She looked up at me with her big golden eyes and let out a chirp. Then she pecked again at my bowl. I felt the bond, and found only curiosity reaching back. My hand reached out and brushed her head.

"Solara," Martha murmured. "That's a good name, Lily. A real good name."

"I prefer Lys," I said absently. "Though you may use Lily, if you must."

Tom and Martha looked at each other, and for some reason they smiled. "Lys it is, then," Martha said. Then she looked down at the bird. Solara had somehow felt this gaze, for she turned and regarded the woman, her head tilted very far to one side.

"And this is little Solara," Martha said, beaming at the bird. "She is just beautiful. Just beautiful. And she has quite the appetite."

Solara preened under the assessment, rising to her full height and sticking her chest out. She approved of the praise. It seemed she would receive much of it, no matter where we went. That was good, for there was hardly anyone more worthy of it.

Martha glanced at me. "May I touch her?" she asked.

I considered this. I checked the bond, and while Solara certainly appreciated the comments, she was still wary and...something else. Something I did not understand. "That would be… inadvisable," I said. "She bites, and she does far more than biting besides." Martha nodded slowly, and simply smiled at the bird. Solara stared back, now somehow more wary than before.

"So, why did you all come?" Tom asked. "Not that we mind or nothing. Divine knows we don't mind." The man wrung his hands. "But only for a few hours-"

"Tom." Martha swatted at his arm. "Let the girls eat in peace," she said. Then she turned to Alisa. "You especially, girl. Eat your fill! Don't be shy. We have more than enough to go around."

This, at least, I knew was a lie. It had been a lie when we first came here, and it was a lie now. Alisa stiffened. She looked at Martha, looked back at her stew, and attacked it with renewed vigor. The girl had more sense than I gave her credit for.

"There is one purpose to our coming here," I said. I reached to my side, toward the satchel. I moved the bowl of stew out of the way and set the satchel between us. Everyone watched, even Ash, who knew well what it contained. I fished inside, and produced a necklace. Twin to the one around Ash's neck in every way, save that its stone was still green. I had considered changing this one as I had the other. I had decided against it, for now.

For some reason, both Martha and Tom's gazes went to Ash. And to the necklace at her throat. Tom nodded slowly, and Martha smiled.

"Where is the girl?" I said. "I wished to-" My mouth closed, and for some reason, I looked away, at the wall.

"Well, the little lass should be asleep," Martha said. "And it'd break her heart to wake up and know she just missed you. Pretty necklace or otherwise." She said it slowly, never shying from my gaze. She was delivering me news I did not wish to hear. "But she'll love it all the same," Martha added hastily at the end.

Ash's hand found my thigh under the table. It was very warm. I had not asked for this. "And has she been," I asked slowly, "has she been well?"

"Healthy as anything," Martha said. "And little Marin is doing just fine too, before you ask. That boy has enough energy for five of him now."

"I did not ask about the boy," I murmured.

"'Course you didn't," Martha said. Tom coughed into his fist. Then some of the woman's smile faded. "But it's Sara I'm a little concerned about, truth be told. She was always the quiet type, but she'd play around with the other kids. Run around with them. Now all she does is practice with that Spark on her arm. Day in and day out. Don't know why, and she won't tell anyone. Not even Tamara, and by the Divine does the woman ask." Martha let out a long sigh. "It's probably nothing, but a girl her age should be running around with the others, not training like she's getting ready for a war."

I had gone very still somewhere in the middle of the woman's explanation. Sara had been practicing her mark, and doing so diligently. Too diligently for a child.

"Lys," Ash murmured, "you couldn't have known."

The words were little comfort. A Queen should know. A Queen should weigh the weight of every single one of her commands. For that was what gave her the right to rule.

"Do you both know something?" Tom asked slowly.

Solara sat between us on the table, her head swinging from one side to the other. I got the distinct impression that she was trying to understand, and did not. She was too clever for her own good.

"Before I left, I told her to grow her mark," I said. "I told her to be stronger when I saw her next."

Everyone was quiet at that. I had expected the words to be encouragement, not a command. The fire in the hearth crackled. A wind blew somewhere outside. I had given a careless command to my first retainer in this new world.

"Well, ain't your fault, Lys," Martha said, slow on the name. "Half the trouble with raising kids is you say one thing, they hear another, and end up doing a third."

"What she said," Tom said. "Though maybe you should, uh- clarify a little."

I nodded. I would have to do that, in some fashion. I rose from the table. Solara let out a curious chirp. I cupped her with both hands and slowly set her atop my head. She sat in the middle. Ash rose with me.

Alisa made to stand. "You will wait here, girl," I said. "You are tired, are you not?"

"Don't call me girl," Alisa said. Still, she slowly sat back down. That surprised me. I had expected her to argue.

"We'll find you when it's time to leave?" Ash offered.

Alisa met her gaze and nodded. "Well, unlike you two, I do need sleep," she said, and yawned. It was a fake yawn, one that covered her dignity only feebly.

"Well now, dearie, we have just the place for you to get a good night's rest," Martha said.

I moved toward the door. Tom stood to join us. "We will go alone," I said.

Tom turned to his wife, who nodded. "Tammy should be awake. Let 'em go." Tom slowly sat down. We made our way outside.

Hamel stretched out before us. The night had deepened while we ate, though somehow it did not feel any later than when we had arrived. The moon hung full above the huts. The stars shone in their thousands around it, undimmed by any lantern, and the air was cool against my skin. I took a deep breath and let it go.

"For what it's worth," Ash said quietly, "I agree with them. It isn't your fault."

"I know, Hero," I whispered. "That does not mean I do not find the situation displeasing."

Ash nodded, and said nothing more. We began to walk, down the mud path between the sleeping huts, toward the one that stood beside the broad oak. The same oak where I had once given a girl a vase that had not been worth keeping, and she had kept it anyway.

Solara let out a small chirp from atop my head. Then another. "Yes, this is Hamel," I explained to her. "In all its glory, what little there is." There was no heat to the words. "I once told you that the sights of Koralis were not worth remembering. I believe that this is."

Solara let out a louder chirp at this, though not nearly as loud as she could have. As if she knew the village was asleep, and wished for it to stay so. She let out two more chirps. I paused and looked up at her. "You are rather talkative now, Sol. Did you not find the hut to your liking?" I asked her.

Solara did not answer. I caught Ash looking at me. She was smiling. "What?"

"I think she was just shy," Ash said. "Little Sol's never been to a place like this. And there's a lot of new people. She was just shy, I'm pretty sure."

Shy. A curious word, though I knew well what it meant. I did not think it could apply to a baby phoenix. I reached up and cupped Solara, before bringing her in front of my face. "Were you shy, Solara?" I asked her.

Golden eyes stared back at me, and the tiny bird squirmed. Then she looked away and let out a softer chirp. It seemed Ash knew her well. In many ways, better than I myself did. How strange, and yet I found I did not dislike it.

I cradled Solara to my chest. "You have no reason to feel so, Solara," I said as we continued walking. "This is the place where you were born. Not in this form, perhaps. But this is where you began."

Solara seemed to consider this. I felt her consideration through the bond. Ash let out a sound that might have been a laugh.

We passed the broad oak. I looked at it for a moment, and then moved on. And there it was. The hut closest to the oak. It looked just as the other huts did. Mud and clay, with a thatched roof that struggled to keep the wind out, let alone anything else. The window was open. Warm orange light spilled out. And I saw it. It was exactly where I had seen it last. It sat on a shelf, next to a flower in full bloom. The ugliest vase in the entire world.

I looked at it for some time. Ash stopped beside me and stared too. Solara let out a small chirp, her neck craning toward it.

"It looks worse than I remember," I said.

"It doesn't look that bad, Lys," Ash murmured. "I think there's a charm to it."

"Perhaps so."

We approached the front door. It was little more than wood barely clinging to its frame. Ash stepped forward and knocked softly, and I feared even that might tip it over. We stood in silence. There were footsteps somewhere behind the door, and then it opened. A woman stared out at us. This Tamara was a short woman. Shorter than both Ash and me.

"Who is t-" She looked at us and stopped. Her eyes widened, and then widened still more. "You two? I'm not just seeing things, am I?" Then her eyes went to Solara.

"We're back for a little while. It's not too late, is it? We'd hate to be a bother. We just wanted to-" Ash paused. "Is Sara…?"

The woman nodded quickly and stepped aside. "It's no bother at all. Please, come inside. She just went to sleep a little while ago. Come in. Come in."

Ash stepped inside, and I followed her. The inside of the hut was a single room, one just barely large enough for the hearth and the kitchen both. A faded rug lay before each door. Two smaller doors led out the back. I felt Solara shifting in my arms, looking everywhere at once.

"She'll be so excited. So excited. I'll go wake her u-"

"You do not have to," I said. The woman looked at me. "I wish to leave her a gift. And a message. She does not need to wake from her rest for only that."

"Don't really get it," the woman said. "But-" She stepped closer, and for some reason, grabbed my shoulder. "Come now. Give it to her yourself." Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone who bore only a brown Spark.

I tried to protest, but she had already led me to one of the doors. I looked to Ash for assistance, and all my retainer could do in my defense was shrug. Tamara opened the door. "Please, you should see her, at least." Finally, she let go of my shoulder.

I hesitated, though I did not know why I hesitated. Ash nudged me from behind, just slightly. The bead felt warm against my chest. Slowly, I nodded and stepped inside.

The room was small, and it was dark. The only light was what spilled in from the hearth behind me, a thin wedge of orange across the floor. There was nothing inside, save for a tiny cot laid out against the far wall, and a small desk that would scarcely have reached my stomach. The desk was covered in papers. On the cot lay a bundle of cloth, and above the bundle's edge, a mess of dark hair.

I stepped forward on the tips of my toes. I lowered Solara to the floor just inside the door, and she made no sound at all as I set her down. Ash stayed back. I stepped over Solara and crossed the room until I stood over the cot.

Sara was asleep. She looked exactly as I remembered her. My first retainer in this new world.

I knelt beside the cot, reached out, and brushed the hair back from her face, gently, so as not to wake her. The girl did not stir. Then I saw the paper. It was folded beneath the girl, its edge poking just past the sheet. I reached for it, and the girl stirred, but did not wake.

I could make out the words clearly enough. The writing upon it was terrible. The letters wobbled and broke and sometimes melded into one another. It was the writing of a child still learning how. And it was addressed to me.

To Lys

I am practicing every day like you said. It is verry hard. Makes me so tiered but Im trying my best!! It worked on the flour today. It's pretty now.

I believe she meant to write flower instead of flour. The one next to the vase. It had been a wilted and dying thing when I had seen it last. I read on.

Martha made hony bread. I saved you a piece but then I ate it. I am sorry.

Are you happy where you are? I hope you are happy. Im trying to be ade-quit!

Your retainer

I stared at the letter. I read it again, and then a third time, as though there might be more words if I only looked hard enough. There were no more words. She had written me a letter. How she meant for this letter to reach me, I did not know. But this girl had been writing it, and writing it in secret, judging by the many creases from repeated foldings.

Something pressed against the back of my eyes, and this time it won. I wiped at them with the back of my wrist, furiously. It did not help. I wiped at them again.

Yes. I would write the girl a letter of my own, and leave it beside this one, where she would find it come morning. There was too much to say. Perhaps too much even for my words. But I would try-

There was a chirp. I froze, and turned. I had completely forgotten about Solara. I had assumed Ash would pick her up in my wake. Instead, the tiny bird was sitting on top of Sara, her neck craned very far to one side. I reached for the bond. To warn Solara not to do what she-

Solara craned her head toward the ceiling and let out a mighty chirp. One that made her whole body tremble. Sara's eyes opened.