Ana “Who was that man, Ana?”
Ana
“Who was that man, Ana?”
My mother watched me like a hawk since Tiberius left. I stood up from my old bed, looking at both her and Angelica. As soon as I stepped into the room, bloodied and relieved, they placed my former attire on the bed.
I complied and changed into a cotton ie, its sleeves as puffy as the clouds of summer, zigzag-patterned stitched all the way to my shoulder, and laced on the fota with the same pattern. Angelica insisted on braiding my hair, pulling it into a crown at the top of my head.
It started snowing, fresh flakes laying a new blanket on the ground. I would have to travel home using my power.
I took a deep breath. “That man is the Goat Man. The one you were so afraid of last summer. A man who crossed the threshold of his own curse to get to me, to understand my belief in God. He is the man I love, Mother.”
“Will you marry him?” Angelica asked, raising her eyebrows and smiling.
“One day, yes. Once we’ll be rid of his brother.”
And then I told them what was really happening. I spoke about the Elk and his wish to get his land, and about Eugen and the love I had for that child. I omitted the part about Andrei; I didn’t want to give them a heart attack.
“And what of you?” I turned to Angelica. Her face brightened, and her cheeks turned crimson. “Is your wedding day coming soon?”
She exhaled loudly. “At last, yes. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve a glimmer of happiness. Gavril is waiting for quite some time to whisk me away from home.” Angelica beams at me, her eyes showing me all the love she carries for her betrothed.
“Oh!” my mum exclaimed. “Let me show you her wedding attire.” She ran out of the room as soon as she finished talking. Angelica giggled, a rare sound coming from her.
In a couple of seconds, she returned with an ie and an apron. The blouse had longer, flowing sleeves adorned with golden embroidery. The apron was fully golden and with the same tiny sun pattern as the ie. “These were delivered in the night you left…”
“And I assume it was your betrothed,” Angelica smiled.
“Why is that?” I asked, touching the fabric of the apron.
“He left this.” Angelica walked to her bed and picked up a small paper where only a red waxed seal stood. A goat.
My pulse quickened, and I bit my lip.
Both were gliding with happiness in our old room. Sorrow forgotten, sighs relinquished, tears dried.
It was tradition to have a year of mourning for my father, and we had to convince our mum to keep it this time, otherwise the people in the village might talk. She didn’t care; she was happy that her pain was gone.
She felt liberated not hearing screams the next morning, being able to cook in silence, or at least hearing our chatter. My mum decided that she would cook for the villagers and sell the crops; she wouldn’t have time for them anyway.
Our mum would accept Mara’s husband's proposal to cater to the parish in the neighbouring village.
They both asked me how I feel, and I told them that I was elated. Finally, I had the life that I wanted – a man who loved me, an adopted child who would grow to be an incredible person and a ghost who cared for us in many ways.
I finally found what I have been looking for.
One soul to take.
One soul until our freedom.
One soul until we could build our life together as humans.
When I arrived at the cave, the trees were still heavy under the burden of the snow, their branches inclined to the ground. Here and there, an owl would ask who was walking in the forest. I smiled as I imagined I would sleep that night in the arms of the man that I loved.
How ironic that he would call me inim?, when neither of us possessed one. And still, we felt as if we had it.
When I approached the lair, the horse was waiting for me, its long, braided mane jumping up and down. It would shake its head, steam coming from its snout.
I pressed my hand to its forehead, the wind raising my skirt. “What is it, boy?”
He neighed once, rattling the ground, and I dashed inside the lair, my pulse vibrating in my veins, a dire feeling creeping in my bones.
The stone walls were silent, the floor not trampled by small feet or hooves. There was no noise coming from the kitchen, no delicacies filling the air with their scent. My chamber was void of a small boy sleeping between the blankets, usually a soft snore coming from him.
Tiberius’s room was left in shambles. The Souls’ Mirror was broken, shards everywhere, pinching my feet. I didn’t care about them or the blood they drew; I only cared about the empty room, the cloak left on the floor, and the blood dripped onto the carpet.
Did they die, and could I have saved them?
I fell to my knees, taking his cloak in my hands and pressing it to my nose. Instead of iron, it smelled of ancient paper and wax. Ignoring the tears that were falling from my eyes, I took one larger piece of glass and tapped it.
It didn’t work. I tried again and again and again.
Not one image.
I squeezed it hard in my palm, the crimson liquid falling to my wrists.
It had to be the Elk who came. No one else could overpower Tiberius. No one else wanted him gone from this Earth.
My feet rushed to the horse, my body passing through something goo-like. When I turned my head, I saw Andrei floating in the hall, his eyes rolling in his head.
“Andrei!” I shouted, his body stopped moving, and his eyes focused on me.
“Woman! Oh, I am so glad you are here!” he whined, grabbing my arms and squeezing them hard.
Ignoring the pain and the slimy sensation, I hardened my eyes. “Are they alive?” I asked, my voice wobbling.
“Yes.”
“Then it is time to collect my tenth soul,” I stated, my shoulders straightening.
Just to confirm my suspicions, I took my Mirror and tapped once. The Elk's skull appeared, overlooking the vast lands his family had. All because of some piece of dirt which nobody will ever take care of.
I threw the Mirror away, the sound of it breaking echoing on the walls. My feet rushed to the stallion, and I climbed it, praying that we would succeed.
Calling my skull to me, I bent over to the horse’s ears.
“Take me to your master! Go as the wind so you can save him one more time.”
It rushed through mud and snow, through forest and wind, through dirt and dust to get to the Goat Man. Its hooves hit the broken branches as if they were nothing but air, my pulse jumping in the same tune. The birds flew from their nests, announcing death, feathers falling from their tiny bodies.
“Be careful, Ana! You need to surprise him! The whisperers who tell him everything; they roam in the walls and floors. Their voice is heard by him at any second. And if something is off, they will alert him,” Andrei warned.
I slid down the horse, eyeing the cave. “And how could we go inside if they are everywhere?”
The second I mouthed the words, the stallion strutted to me.
“Thank you for helping my family and me. Thank you for easing this journey in this world.” It snorted once in response.
Its dark eyes looked as if they wanted to speak. My hand stretched and touched its mane. After leaving my hand stranded in the air, the stallion galloped to the wall of the cave and started pounding his back hooves on it. Without a last look at me or the ghost, it darted into the forest.
The slams rattled the cave. Shadow figures broke the rock and followed the stallion into the dark forest.
Inky shadows flew past us, ignoring me and the ghost, breaking the tall trees into splinters, mixing with dead leaves and small animals, leaving mayhem behind.
“Well… looks like this horse isn’t just a beast,” the ghost whispered.
Murky clouds covered the sky as another wave of snow fell. The wind started to break through, and the splinters lifted by it. A chill ripped through my body. The garments I wore were thick enough, but the breeze turned into a full storm.
I tried to listen to any other sound, searching for the neigh of the fearless stallion. But instead of that, hooves clacked in the distance. My eyes found it at the end of the forest. Its body relaxed and slumped in the snow. Waiting.
“I’m going to save our family,” I whispered in the wind, but more to myself.