Chapter 30 #2
“Your… Your children.” Jaga stares at them with her lips parted, and I see she doesn’t understand for a moment, utterly confused and lost.
And then she does. “The… Your miscarried babies? The ones I helped you… You… They are with you? Aren’t they nawkas?”
“Oh, they are!” Bogna says with joy, pulling Jaga inside the cottage.
“When I came to Nawie, Weles himself welcomed me home! It’s so beautiful here, and he is so good!
He asked me if I wanted to see my children, and of course, I did!
And they wanted to stay with me, so he let them.
Gods, I am so happy. Come in! I’ll make you a brew. Oh, you look so pale.”
It’s dusk in this little village, and the sky colors purple while the first stars twinkle over the horizon. It smells like sage. I quietly follow my shadows, settling outside on a narrow bench by the front door, and watch the night fall while Jaga catches up with her friend.
She doesn’t say much, mostly listens, and her emotions are in such turmoil, I glimpse some of her confusion and reeling uncertainty through our bond.
I can’t tell what she thinks. After an hour of listening to Bogna’s happy chatter about her children and their respective accomplishments, she excuses herself in a weak voice, stumbling outside.
She’s not surprised when she sees me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and haunted, and she grabs my shoulders, shaking me.
“The baby I delivered. Where is she?”
I sigh with understanding and nod. “I’ll show you.”
I wrap my shadows around her, and she shivers all over, a horrible suffering making her cold even as her blood races, urged by her pounding heart.
We step out onto a beach, where an enormous wreck of an old ship is moored.
It’s morning here, and children of all ages climb the masts and run over the deck, screaming and laughing.
“That’s her,” I say, pointing out a girl of five, older than she would have been in the mortal world.
“They can choose what age they are here and whether to grow up or not. She chose to be four when she arrived, and she’s growing.
They play here every day. Once they get bored, they’ll find another playground.
She has many friends who love her. Look. ”
The girl runs down the deck with an excited shout, and an older girl of seven grabs her hand, listening avidly.
They both disappear inside the ship’s cabin, coming out a moment later with a treasure chest of gold and rubies that they pull behind them.
A boy joins them, then another, and the girl Jaga delivered snatches something glittering out of the chest and runs, laughing happily, while the others give chase.
Jaga sobs without tears, and she’s so overwhelmed, her soul escapes past her barriers, unfurling like a red sail to match the ship. I hold her tightly, and she buries her face in my throat, wailing so much harder than she did back then, in the forest after I got her banished.
It takes a long time for her to calm down, and when she pulls away, her face is wet and blotchy. She looks at me with sad, pleading eyes.
“But why? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I release a breath that’s shaky, just like hers.
“I will be completely honest. You changed so much in Slawa, and so much happened, that I forgot it mattered. I’m sorry.”
She hits my chest with a wet sob, then again, until I stumble back from the force of her assault. Jaga grabs me by the collar, and she’s furious now, her soul sizzling red like a storm.
“How could you forget? How could you when I see them in my nightmares every night?”
I sigh, humbled and angry with myself. “I know you so well, poppy girl. So well—in some ways. But you are a goddess to me, and it makes me forget everything mortal about you.”
She hugs herself, curling into a small shape of a woman crushed with guilt and relief.
I raise my hands, unsure whether I can touch her, and hover them around her, until the sobs tearing out of her grow so pitiful, I can’t hold back anymore.
I pick her up, cradling her in my arms, and walk into the shadows, taking us to the same waterfall where I often sit with Nyja.
It’s night here, like always, the only sound being the splash of water.
A blue moon hangs high in the sky, a crescent tonight.
Jaga shakes and cries in my arms for a long time, then curls into an even tighter ball, hiccupping from pain.
“What’s wrong, lo… What’s wrong? Please, let me help.”
“I think… Oh… I think I’m bleeding. Oh, damned body. It was fine when I didn’t eat. Let me go, I need to go back, I have a potion that…”
I wrap my shadows around her and pull her pain into me.
I become a container for her agony the same way I did for her before, first in her cottage, then under a dying tree.
Her torment pulses through me, crushing and horrible, and I welcome it with a sigh.
It’s like a balm to the guilt tearing me apart.
Because I could have shown her long ago. I could have alleviated her suffering. But I forgot how much it mattered.
No wonder she doesn’t want me. I am so very bad at loving her.