Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain - The Darker Road

The little girl obediently went down on her knees to look at the darting fish, but it seemed to Sree that, as with everything else the child did, she was only acting to please the adults around her. She had barely spoken since her mother’s death and ate only what Sree put in front of her. Whenever Sree left the child to sit quietly by herself, Elina would stay there, unmoving, until the hathran came to find her again.

Lake Tirulag scrolled away from them in the distance, its surface broken by a light, cold wind, and the dozens of boats that fished the lake for trout and crayfish. Dim sunshine shone through the stringy cloudbanks over the hills, but it was not a warm light. Ice patches had already formed in these shallow areas, trapping grass, dirt, and the unfortunate minnow or two, but Sree steered the child away from these sights and directed her gaze toward living things.

Sunlight touched them, and the hathran crouched next to the child. “Do you see our reflections, Elina?” She pointed to the child’s face staring back at them impassively from the water. Above her shoulder hovered the hathran’s mask. The dark image made the symbols carved upon it indistinct. Sree couldn’t make out the leaping flames of the hearth or the mountain peaks that also symbolized the stone roofs of the homes here in Tinnir. Hearth and home, fire and mountain-all were a part of her; all were one.

But did Elina see it that way? Reflected in the gray lake, the child saw a mask with a stranger’s eyes staring out. Elina knew, as did all Rashemi, that the witches were the trusted caretakers of the people, but did that include letting a stranger take the place of her mother? Sree could hardly expect Elina to trust her completely, not yet.

Sree drew back, so that only Elina’s reflection was visible in the lake. “We must move on now,” she said. “Not far from here, a young woman is about to become a mother twice over. I must go to her and ask for Bhalla’s blessing upon the birth. Would you like to come and watch this miracle?”

Elina nodded once and reached for Sree’s hand, but again the hathran saw no spark of emotion, no interest whatsoever in the world that continued to move while the child stood still. Sree led the child on by the lake, but in her heart, she prayed for guidance:

Mother Bhalla, grant me patience, strength, and the will to be gentle with this child. As we wychlaran have been set apart from others, so too will this child be set apart from us. If she is destined to be an othlor, she will need your guidance.

Sree ended the prayer with her traditional blessing, words she often spoke or sung, but this time recited in silence:

Hearth and fire, home and mountain

Path of those who came before

Guard my spirit as I walk alone

And I will watch for thee

Sree felt a sense of peace and purpose settle over her. It will be all right, she thought. In time, all will be well.

Then she heard the scream.

The hut had whitewashed walls, a small garden dormant in preparation for winter, and a sheep paddock in back against the low-rising hills. The smell of damp wool and wood fire smoke filled the air. A dozen sheep clustered together at the back of the paddock, as far away from the screams as they could get.

Sree didn’t stop to knock at the weather-beaten door-she flung it open and pulled Elina inside with her. With a brief glance she took in the hearth fire hung with a kettle of boiling water; the blood-soaked rags hastily discarded in a corner; the offerings to Bhalla and the lake spirits placed on the bedroom threshold. All of this was as it should be for the birthing, but the woman’s screams were screams of panic and terror, not the determined cries of a mother about to meet her children for the first time.

Amid the screams, voices from the bedroom-including the village healer’s-tried to soothe and cajole the young woman to breathe, but Sree heard the carefully concealed desperation in the words.

She found a stool near the fire and sat Elina upon it. No need to tell the child to stay put-Sree knew she would be there waiting when the ordeal was finished. She found soap and clean rags on a table in the corner and dipped one in the boiling water. After she’d washed her hands thoroughly, she went into the bedroom.

Elina sat on the stool and watched the fire. The heat felt good on her cold nose, but the air in the house was too thick, and it smelled rotten. She would rather be back at home in her own bed.

She sat on the stool, not moving, until her legs started to cramp from dangling just above the floor. She slid off and stumbled, scraping her knee against the floor. The scratches were red when she looked at them, and a drop of blood welled up. Elina watched it slide down the back of her leg.

In the bedroom, the woman’s screams got louder. Elina put her hands over her ears to drown them out, but it didn’t help. The smell got worse too-it made her nose itch, and she knew she remembered it from somewhere. She tried to find something in the room to look at, but there was only the pile of red rags and the windows filmed over with dirt.

“Bhalla, aid me!” The scream from the bedroom made Elina cower. She put her arms over her head and ran out of the house. She didn’t even realize what her feet had done until she stood in the dooryard, blinking in the watery sunlight.

There was no relief outside. Sheep ran around their paddock, wailing, crying, and frantically pushing one another to escape the screams from inside the house. Elina felt sorry for them, but she was frightened too. She saw a sheep chewing a fence post where the wood met the ground. It chewed and chewed until blood and spit dripped from its mouth. The animal’s eyes looked strange, as if they were blind.

A ewe slammed its head into the fence post nearest Elina. She screamed, the ewe screamed, and Elina ran. She bolted around the side of the house, but the paddock and the sheep were everywhere. Against the side of the house was a tall woodpile. Elina found a slender gap between the stacked wood and the wall and crawled into it.

The air smelled better here, earthy and moist. Wetness soaked through her wool skirt, but Elina hardly noticed. She lay down on the ground and covered her ears against the sheep cries. She could see through gaps in the woodpile their frantic, scuffling movements. Could they see her back here? What if that was why they were trying to get out of the paddock-to come after her? She wanted to close her eyes, but she was afraid they would get her when she wasn’t looking, so she pressed her face to a gap in the wood and watched.

A single eye gazed back at her from the other side of the gap.

Elina screamed and covered the hole with her hands. She pushed herself back and hit her head against the side of the house. Pain made her vision go dark for a minute. When she came back to herself, she felt gentle hands cradling her head and fingers stroking her hair.

Sree, Elina thought. She came to find me.

When she raised her head, it wasn’t Sree looking back at her, but a small figure with spindly arms and legs.

Elina felt a new surge of fear. She breathed very fast, but the small creature shook its head and laid its hands-so much smaller and thinner compared to her own-on her arm in a soothing gesture. It was then Elina realized the creature was made of wood. The hands that touched her curved and were sharp like twigs snapped off a sapling. The creature’s hair was green and brown, alive with rare white heather blossoms, dirt, and earthworms. As Elina watched, more of the small flowers sprang up at different places on its body. The tiny thing both fascinated and repelled her, for it was unlike any creature she’d ever seen.

“Are you … the tree people?” she whispered. Her mother had often spoken to her of the spirits of the forest, especially those that lived in the pinewoods around Tinnir.