Chapter 27 #2
“You can,” she insisted. “And you will. Now, close your eyes and get comfortable. Clear your mind. I want you to picture your inner sanctum. This is where you need your mind to rest, the center of it all, the house for your magic. Make a calm place with no noise. Be at peace, we’re going to breathe. ”
And breathe we did. She counted to three slowly, and we inhaled. Three again as we held our breath. Three one more time, and we released the air. Then we repeated the process again, and again, and again.
I tried to picture my serene place. At first, I thought it would be a forest, but a forest is anything but quiet. You can’t walk without breaking sticks, there are birds and squirrels and wind and leaves. I let the forest go and moved on to something else.
“You’re doing well, keep making that place in your mind,” Schula said softly.
The quietest place I’d ever been. I nearly shouted when my mind fell into a frozen lake. The lake Thain had pulled me from. I winced but kept my eyes shut. Quiet, but not peaceful. I moved on again.
“Keep trying,” Schula said.
Now I made the place I wanted. A little log cabin in an open field.
Just big enough for me. I built it like Bryn would have.
I pictured every cut log, every stone in the floor.
I gave it a hearth, and I kept building.
A loft, just a little one, with a warm bed near the chimney for heat.
Below, I had only the bare minimum of possessions.
A wooden table, a chair, a shelf, and a cooking pot.
An axe sat by the door, and a cloak hung above it.
There, my little cabin. My home, my serenity.
“There, right there,” Schula said, pleased. “Whatever you’ve found, hold on to it. That is your magic’s home. You are making it a place to live, a place for you to be with it.”
I sat in my cabin just as I sat in the forest outside Thanantholl.
On the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, breathing.
My leg cramped, and I went to move, but Schula smacked me without dropping the count.
If I opened my eyes, I’d get smacked again.
My back strained, and I was ready to scream, but I sat there breathing like she told me to.
“All right, that’s enough for today.” Schula stopped us, and I fell onto my back. It had felt like days that we had sat there, sitting in our quiet places and breathing. When I opened my eyes, the sun had hardly moved.
“You did well. I can tell you made a good place to keep your mind.” Schula stretched. “Hold on to it, because you’re going to do this again before bed. And in the morning. And after lunch.”
“That often?” I rolled onto my stomach, laying my face in the cool grass.
“Yes, that often,” she said. “As often as you can. Do it in the bath, before sleep, when you wake up. Do it whenever you have a spare moment.”
“You told me to practice my combat poses whenever I had a spare moment,” I said.
“Do both. I do. The more you do it, the better you’ll be.” She stood. “Now, get up. You’ve had a rest, let me show you how to hold your hands for an impact.”
“Great,” I moaned.
Caw.
And we did the entire thing again.
Placing my hand on the metal railing outside Schula’s apartment first thing in the morning was a mistake, I realized as I pulled my wet palm away from the dripping wet metal.
“Ugh, it rained.” Wiping my hand on my pants, I made it to the bottom of the steps without the use of the railing. Puko landed on my shoulder, and I nearly fell sideways.
“A good many things are wet this morning!” Mama Flori called from the corner of her shop. She was shaking out an empty flour sack before adding it to a folded pile next to her. “It tends to rain a lot around here.”
“I’ve noticed.” I moved to stand next to her, picking up a new sack from a crumpled pile and shaking the loose bits of flour out of it.
Puko ruffled his feathers indignantly and took off for the railing in front of the apartment upstairs.
“You didn’t need a free ride anyway, you silly thing,” I called up to him. “You’re the one with wings!”
Mama Flori chuckled, picking up the next sack.
“Thank you, lovely. I’m sending these back to the mill today, and I try to get the old bits out as much as I can first.” She scrunched up her little mole nose, holding back a sneeze. “Whew! And what are you up to this morning?”
“Schula went to Pearl Street for a few things, so I’m heading out to find some firewood.”
“Wet as it is?” Mama Flori asked, folding up her current sack and grabbing another.
“Like you said, it rains a lot around here,” I mused. “It will dry. Mostly, I think I want to get some fresh air, do something with my hands. I’m used to a lot more time to myself than I’ve gotten since coming here.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you, I can handle a few sacks.
Go! Enjoy the day.” Mama Flori chased me off with a smile, flapping an empty sack at me as I pulled Bryn’s coat tight.
I walked the path out of Thanantholl, axe on my hip and a basket in hand in case I found anything I wanted to bring back with me.
Puko made his way overhead, staying just in sight so I knew he was coming with me.
I’d become familiar with the route out of the valley over the past few days; it would just take some time to walk it.
When I went out with Schula, I’d been using the cloak to hide myself from unwanted attention, but today was about me, and I wanted Bryn’s coat and the feel of the axe in my hands.
I’d gone over the rules of taking things from the forests of the Autumn Lands with one of Mama Flori’s boys who liked to come out here often.
The same foraging courtesies I was used to in the mountains applied, so that wasn’t hard to remember, but the trees were another matter.
He described the trees as “part of the land,” whatever that meant.
I would have to limit myself to what had already fallen, but that was enough on its own.
Today was less about the wood gathering and more about my thoughts.
Out of the city proper and into the trees, I was pleased to leave the gates and staring guards behind.
Puko landed on my shoulder once we were away from Thanantholl, and my boots crunching the leaves underfoot with the earthy smell after the rain was everything I needed.
I carried these sounds, these smells, in my soul with me.
This was what I craved, the Mother’s living world around me and my own two hands to work with.
We enjoyed the walk for a while until I came across a fallen branch large enough to do something with.
I made quick work of it, the motions that were so familiar to me coming to my arms like an old friend.
I came out of it with five good-sized pieces, bundled them with some rope I’d brought, and settled them on my back.
“What do you think, Puko? Does it remind you of home?” I asked.
Caw.
My boots crunched through the leaves as we kept going.
Since our return from the Spring Lands, I had thrown myself into working on control.
Eberon hadn’t found Thain yet, and after finally getting the opportunity to ask Baeleon directly, he still had no answers.
Thain would return when he returned. A frustrating response that had only turned Eberon into more of an anxious mess.
My stomach had twisted at the news, and I craved the chance to just talk to him.
Coming back to Thanantholl had made me realize just how comfortable Thain and I had been.
Even crossing the mountains and camping together had been comfortable.
The way he moved, the way he spoke, even the way he smelled was now familiar to me.
The fight we’d had was eating me up inside.
How did Thain feel about it? Would he come back from his task with a clear head, or would this be the moment he revealed me to the Autumn Court?
Puko circled overhead, having come and gone from my shoulder at whim. This time he shifted to the south, and I changed direction to walk underneath his path.
The trees thinned here and there, but the blue vines that traced the edges of every corner of the Wyldes never relented. Once I climbed over a terrible patch of them, I was welcomed by the sight of leaves I’d seen before.
“Sweet potatoes,” I exclaimed, kneeling before the patch of greenery.
Once Eberon found them on our way to Thanantholl that first time, I couldn’t get the taste out of my head.
But I wasn’t entirely sure I’d identified the right leaves, and I had to carefully pry one out with my axe to confirm.
With great joy, I pulled out a long red tuber, revealing several more behind it.
“Did you spot these from all the way up there?” I asked, tilting my head to the sky.
Puko didn’t answer, but I did make a mental note to give him some later. With my basket now full of sweet potatoes and still more than I could carry left for others to find, I gave up on searching for more fallen branches and made my way back to the gates of Thanantholl.
Finding my way back wasn’t hard; I’d been keeping track of my steps and stacking stones for markers. But it was still a relief to see the familiar slope, the beginnings of the cobbled roads, and the two guards posted on either side of the entryway.
Puko flew high, making his way back without me.
“My company is only good while I’m useful finding you food, is that it?” I asked, watching him fly off.
At the gate, the guard didn’t do much to stop me once he had a look at my face. Keeping my expression even, I let them make their comments about me and moved on. It was getting old, hearing again and again how I’d been found with the humans.
I didn’t feel particularly lost; I was living there. But Schula had warned me that the most favored hobby in Thanantholl was gossiping. So I let it go as I began to walk away, heading back to Schula’s apartment with my findings.
“Didn’t the Ravager find her?” one said, still talking about me as I passed. “He just missed seeing her too.”
The Ravager. Thain had such a title, didn’t he? I’d heard it in the Autumn Palace. My head whipped around, staring at the guards, who looked in my direction. “He was here?”
They looked at each other, then the taller one shrugged. “Might have been an hour ago.”
I took off running. As fast as I could manage with a basket on one arm and an armful of split wood tied to my back.
Passing bridges, people, shops, and many houses, my feet raced faster than my mind.
Before I knew it, I had veered completely off the path to Schula’s apartment and I stood before a gate leading to a small blue-fenced yard, in front of a house with a blue door.
Thain’s house.
My chest was still heaving, pulling in all the air I could from my dash across Thanantholl, as I pushed through the gate, hand stopping as I reached for the handle of the front door.
What was I doing? I was hardly the first person he would want to see. Before I could question my motivations, the door swung inward.
“Miss Wren,” Wairen said. “It is good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” I echoed, but my eyes were darting around Wairen for any sign of life inside the house.
Wairen took notice, stepping aside and looking over their shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
All the breath emptied out of me, and I took a step back, composing myself. “Thain. I heard he has returned.”
Wairen nodded. “Eberon said the same thing when he ran off.”
“Eberon was here?” I asked, then I noticed the pile of blankets and pillows taking up the armchair by the hearth that Thain favored.
“He has been here each night,” Wairen answered. “Until a little while ago. Eberon can feel it when Master Thain isn’t too far away.”
“He can feel it? No, I mean thank you, Wairen. Do you know where Eberon went?” I asked.
Wairen thought for a moment, looking out the door behind me. “The king. Yes, that was the right direction. Master Thain goes to the palace when he returns from duties, he does not always return home first. I believe they are both at the palace.”
“Oh.” The energy that had spurred me through the valley had now completely left me. Of course he was with King Baeleon. The task that had sent him away for weeks had been from his king, of course he would have to see his king upon his return.
“Thank you, Wairen. I’ll go let Schula know,” I said.
Wairen tilted their head to the side. “Will you be returning to your room? Master Thain has told me to make sure everything is ready for you.”
What did that mean? What does that mean, Thain?
“He . . . what?” I managed. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, my feet. I fidgeted with the basket on my arm, the rope digging into my shoulders where I’d secured the wood.
“Master Thain told me to make sure everything is ready for you,” Wairen repeated.
“No, I heard. I mean . . . thank you. I should go,” I said, and Wairen waved me off as I retreated through the garden and out the gate.
Schula. I should tell Schula what had happened. And I should do something with this wood, and the sweet potatoes, and . . .
And myself. I needed to find something to do with myself, because my insides felt turned wrong-side-out and nauseated and numb all at the same time.