Mark Del Franco - Undone Deeds

Kevin reared back and punched me. I held my arm up to block the blow too late, spots flashing in my left eye. I dropped my hands to my sides, staring up at him. “You don’t understand,” I mumbled.

“I don’t,” he said.

He held his palm up to my face. I watched the essence coalesce, loops and swirls of white growing on his palm. I closed my eyes, trying to push away, pushing against the ground, but I was against a stone gate of the henge, with no room to maneuver. My hand fell on something cold and hard. I closed my fist around it, felt the heft of the blade as I gripped my sword. With the last of my strength, I thrust it up.

Kevin’s jaw fell open in shock as he hunched forward. His head shuddered as he fought the pain, his hands clawing the air in front of him. Blood gushed over my hand as Kevin stared down in disbelief at the sword buried in his abdomen. He lifted his face, and his expression crumbled into rage. Essence ignited in his hands. I pushed the sword in deeper, and he collapsed over me, his last bolt of essence searing into my chest. Something tore inside, something important that pulled away, and my legs went numb.

I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, and wept until I passed out.

Cold woke me. I stared across the remains of the Common. People roamed among the bodies, their faces slack with horror. The westering sun cast the field red with light that threw long dark shadows. Kevin lay on his back beside me, my sword rising from his body like a cross. As I pulled it free, Joe fluttered up from my side. I didn’t even know he was there.

“I came too late,” he said.

The sword shivered and shrank in my hand. The essence drained out of it, and it went cold. I struggled to smile. “You came, Joe. That’s all that matters.”

He settled on the ground. “I can’t find anyone. The world keeps changing.”

“It’s okay. It’ll settle down,” I said. I held the dagger out. “Do me a favor and take this to Briallen.”

He took the dagger. It was almost as long as he was tall. “I shouldn’t leave you. I’ll keep calling for someone.”

“Do this for me first, Joe. I promised her,” I said.

His lip trembled. He nodded and winked out. I closed my eyes. I opened my eyes. Joe sat on my thigh, the dagger across his lap. The setting sun lit his vacant stare with a harsh light.

“What happened?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me. “She shielded her house and wouldn’t answer my call.”

“Bring it back, Joe. You have to do it for me before it’s too late,” I said.

He looked at me with a world of hurt. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah, Joe, you do,” I said.

He bowed his head and disappeared. I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. Joe lay curled against my chest, his wings folded flat, his essence light dimmed.

“What happened?” I asked.

He spoke without moving. “I called her again, but she didn’t answer. I flew over the house and looked in the backyard. It was empty. Water was flowing in the fountain. I dropped the dagger, and it pierced the shield barrier and landed in the water. A mist rose, and I thought I saw someone moving in it. I heard a wail of grief that keened higher and higher, until it broke my heart. The mist disappeared, and the fountain was empty.”

I rested my hand on him and closed my eyes.

“Thanks, buddy. You’re the best.”

The wind blew bitter cold off the ocean as Briallen verch Gwyll ab Gwyll followed the porters. She cinched the rope on her black alb and gathered her cloak around her. The porters walked the dirt path, worn hard with age and use, as it sloped downward to the beach. Briallen studied the ground in front of her, the wooden bier in the upper edge of her sight. She thought of nothing in particular—the sound of the wind through the grass, the cry of the seabirds. She had walked the path before.

The porters reached the beach, and their gait slowed against the heavy sand. They took care to keep the bier level and not jostle the body. Briallen did look up then, staring into the distance ahead. The sky was flat white around her as it always was on the beach.

They walked beneath a sunless sky down the endless beach. There was no telling how far to walk. It was different every time. The strand of the shore wound off into the haze. It might never end, she thought. Places like the beach were like that.

A dark spot appeared on the sand ahead, beside the path the porters took. That was different. Briallen had never seen it before and was more surprised as they drew closer. The spot resolved into a figure bundled in black, sitting on the sand. The porters did not pause as they passed. They knew their place and kept walking.

Briallen paused. The huddled shape lifted its head and threw back a hood. Meryl Dian stared after the bier. Tears streamed down her face as the porters meandered above the foam of the tide.

“I loved him,” she said. “I didn’t mean to, but I loved him this time.”

Briallen held her hand out, and Meryl took it. Like a mother, she gathered the smaller woman into her arms and held her to her breast. “Do not lament love. It has a power beyond even the Wheel of the World.”

They stood together as the porters walked on. There was world enough and time on the beach. Meryl’s tears subsided, and Briallen released her. They followed after the bier, first Briallen, then Meryl. Though they made no effort, they reached the porters without speed.

Ahead three figures appeared, three woman in black albs. They stood in a row along the beach, barring the way. The porters did not vary their pace, did not quicken with the end of their journey in sight, but walked until they reached a barge in the surf. With care, they lowered the bier and stepped away. Meryl hung back as the three women joined Briallen on the barge, two to each side of the body.

Briallen looked up as a bird cried in the wind, a crow, lost in the flat white of the sky. She looked at the woman across from her and nodded. The woman lifted her hood and settled it back on her shoulders, her expression blank. Briallen exhaled, a coil of essence rolling from her lips, settling over the woman’s face.

Keeva macNeve lifted her head, startled. She stared at Briallen, then down at the body. She pressed her lips together in regret and resignation. “I gave him Challenge,” she said. “I gave him cause to thrive and rise above his ability. I gave him trial and tribulation. I failed him.”

Briallen looked at the woman beside her and nodded. She pushed back her hood. Briallen exhaled, and awareness came into Maeve’s gaze. Expressionless, she stared at the body, showing no emotion. “I gave him Ambition,” she said. “I gave him cause to challenge himself and rise above the world. I gave him reason for being. I failed him.”

Briallen looked at the third woman and hesitated, then nodded. She exhaled as the woman released her hood. Ceridwen gasped as she stared at the body. “I gave him….” Uncertain, she looked up at Briallen. Briallen arched her eyebrow and nodded again. Ceridwen released a shuddering breath, collecting her thoughts, then smiled with sadness. “I gave him Love…. Love Unrequited. I gave him cause to…. to find his heart’s desire. I gave him strength to hold on to something more precious than I had to offer. I failed him.”

Briallen exhaled slowly. “I gave him Wisdom,” she said. “I gave him knowledge and hope. I gave him curiosity to seek what he needed to find. I failed him.”

Silence fell over them, broken by the shush of the sea and sigh of the wind. The porters approached the barge, leaving Meryl alone on the sand. Briallen held out a hand to her. “You’ve earned a place here,” she said.

Meryl swallowed hard as she walked down the beach. A porter helped her onto the barge. Ceridwen slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.