3. Cut Ties
Arit awoke first the next morning, the clangor of my preparations loud enough to rouse him. I had not slept; a plan was forming in my mind for saving Gingel. It was remarkable how one could stretch the limits of the mind to consider all possibilities when pushed to it. No mental path left untrod. Two of these paths had presented themselves to me in the night.
First, I would pursue my questioning of this ”guide,” or Death or whatever I was to call him, and find the loopholes. There had to be something worthwhile to discover. I had berated myself for letting him go without asking how to find him again. There would be more questions. I simply couldn”t accept that there was no way to save Gingel. If he was bound to the thread and it contracted as time went on, this winding he spoke of, then surely he would be here still. Waiting…winding.
The second was more…elusive. A plan built on a theory birthed from a rumor. I knew the first step of this path was flight. We couldn”t stay here anymore. Our lack of food was still a concern, and there was no healer available in Brint; the closest possibility was farther south in Slivin, but that was doubtful as well. But there was something else in Slivin…someone else. That second path, this thin chance, my mind was now spinning. This plan and our escape south followed the same track, at least as far as Slivin. After that, I didn”t know what the next step was. But I would know, I was sure. I had a handful of puzzle pieces in my mind and I would solve it and save Gingel. Easy.
Today, we couldn”t waste any time. We needed money, and we needed to move quickly. These were two inescapable truths. Once Death left, I used the twilight hours to calculate and strategize. Anything and everything we owned would be sold, and travel would be fast and light. But first, we needed a potion of paupolet to treat the pain that Gingel would be in once she awoke. The mead was almost gone, and it would not sate the pain that would follow as her injury worsened.
”Arit, come quickly. I need you to run an errand. Take this coin, ride as fast as you can to town, and purchase a vial of paupolet from the apothecary. Gingel will need it desperately. Please hurry.”
He shook his head, unsure.
”Paupolet is dangerous. She might not wake up. Is there not some other elixir that would work?” He nervously ran his fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair, looking over Gingel as she still slept. The silver coin I placed in his palm was now gingerly concealed in a pouch at his belt.
”It”s all we can afford. Yes, it is dangerous, but I know how to use it safely. There is nothing else to be done. Arit—” I placed a hand on his shoulder and fixed his attention on me. ”—Gingel is going to be in a bad way. I”ve been up all night trying to discover what path to take. Staying here will be a death sentence for her, for all of us, if I”ve understood the truth of our situation. I can see no other option but to sell what little we have and flee south. Do you have a better path for us?”
He took a moment to consider but chose not to fight me in this decision. Perhaps he had already come to the same conclusion. He was not a fool, but he was a bit of a simple young man. He would do what was right in his own mind, but he lacked foresight and the ability to plan. Ideas were a labor for him. He was our protector and provider, but he was glad to leave these facets of our lives in my capable hands. I didn”t look down on him for this. We each had our role in the family, fitting well together, each doing what was best for all of us.
”What is to be done about her leg?” His dark eyes flashed, and my heart dropped at his concern. I shook my head.
”I”m…not sure. It certainly won”t heal on its own. There are no healers in Brint; surely there must be more in Slivin.”
”Slivin. That”s a long journey. What if there is no one there to help?”
I didn”t want to lie to him. To withhold her terminal condition from him felt wrong. But I couldn”t very well tell him how I knew. I needed time to figure out what to tell him.
”I haven”t looked that far down the path. All I know is that there is no help for her here. That is why I need the paupolet. I need her pain-free while we figure out what to do. Do you agree?”
Arit nodded as the line of his brow contracted. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
”Alright. If we are not to return until winter is over, shall I make inquiries about our wood stores? Find a buyer?” He asked.
”Yes, that”s a brilliant idea. We will need any coin we can take with us.” I patted him on the back as he moved to the door, grabbing his worn cloak to throw around his broad shoulders.
I watched as Arit galloped away astride our steed, Bordus. I made use of the time while I waited, separating our meager belongings into a pile of essentials for the journey and the rest to be sold for what coin it would bring. It was strange to take stock, to see how little we possessed. My father would have wept to see us in such humble condition.
My mind retreated just for a moment, remembering what wealth felt like. We could eat whatever we desired; there was no end to the variety in our larder. Fine clothes, art, and entertainment—all now sorely missed. But more than the beautiful, plentiful things, I missed the safety. I missed the peace I had before adulthood thrust itself upon me. There were so many decisions to be made every day, and I always feared I”d made the wrong choice.
I smiled as I remembered my favorite gowns embroidered by the most skilled hands in the city. Bright colors and soft fabrics perfectly fit my form. Mother would be horrified by my vesture now, unbecoming on a young woman. My form concealed by a simple kirtle in moss green, I had poorly altered it by my own hand to resemble a man”s tunic. The hem skirted the top of my knee and had split sides for ease of movement. However, the breeches and boots I sported would have sent her into spasms. I smiled at the thought for a moment, but the crush of reality brought me back to the task at hand.
With my dark hair tied away atop my head, I began to load our small wagon with the goods and surplus food we would be selling. I kept only the lightest foodstuffs that would fill our bellies to the fullest, gauging what we would be better to buy along the way. A good portion of the perfectly cured shellstag jerky would come. Gingel couldn”t get enough of it.
Hartak, tatos, dried moarberries, salt, and a small pouch of spice would be all that remained of our sustenance. Arit would carry his archer”s kit, and I would have my sword and axe. Three knives, two woolen blankets, two waterskins, two torches, rope, a small skillet, and a flint and steel rounded out the rest of the pack.
I might think I was forgetting something if there wasn”t so little to be had.
But something else had been forgotten. I took a chance and left Gingel still asleep, leaving to hunt down some answers. Not ten feet from our front door, I turned to see a dark form in the shade of the larger pine tree just beyond our empty barn. I stood there for too long, rooted, second-guessing myself. He moved away from the tree as he saw me but made no move in my direction.
Am I really going to go talk to him? Have I lost my mind? No, I can do this. For her.
I advanced slowly, keeping my gaze steady, fixed on him. He didn”t move again; he simply watched me as I approached, blinking in that slow, unnerving way. I stopped a good distance away, ready to bolt if I felt I needed to. He said nothing, waiting. I crossed my arms over my chest.
”I see you are still here. Are you to stalk us until the thread is wound?”
He moved his head to the side slightly.
”Yes. I will remain, but I do not mean to frighten you.”
”And yet you do.”
”It cannot be helped. I am bound to the thread until the end.”
I wrestled with myself. Angry at him for simply existing but afraid I might cause him to stop answering questions, I told myself I needed to tread lightly.
”May I ask you more questions?”
”You may.”
”You said you would take her from this sphere to the next. What happens there, in the next sphere? You said she must wait for the world”s ending. What does that mean?”
”That is not for me to know. I am employed only to escort the elect. What they do in the next sphere is not in the scope of my understanding. That they wait for all the elect to be gathered, this is the only thing that is known once they have been delivered.”
”When will the world end?” I half expected him to tell me eventually that I didn”t deserve to know something, that something was forbidden.
”Again, that is not for me to know,” he said. I scowled as I looked away. This opportunity felt squandered. I had no questions ready that could give me the answers I needed. Next time I would be more prepared. Next time?
”Are you sure no one has escaped their thread once it appeared? No one ever?”
”No one. The thread demands a life, and it is always satisfied.” Satisfied. They died. They all died. I shook my head. No. I don”t accept that.
”If I have more questions, will you answer?” I asked.
”I will.”
Gingel had awoken in enough pain to require the last of the mead, her hands too unsteady to hold the bottle. I helped her drink it all, down to the last drop, hoping it would keep her well enough until Arit returned. I set about applying the poultice.
”What happened? I”m having a hard time remembering,” she asked as I wrapped her leg in cloth strips to cover the messy concoction.
I settled in to sit behind her on the bed, brushing her golden waves as she ate her morning porridge. The thought crossed my mind to suggest we sell the brush, a solstice present I scrimped and saved for two years ago. I thought the better of it. It was the finest thing she had, and I was loathe to take it away.
”Arit might be able to tell you how it happened, but you injured your leg. I”ve sent him into Brint to get you some medicine.”
I made no mention of ”the guide”. I didn”t think I would ever tell her. She needed to be still, to let her body rest. Telling her Death was stalking her would not aid that cause. That was the one luxury I had kept for her all these years, shouldering the burdens so she didn”t have to.
Gingel pulled the coverlet back to see the damage. It looked so foreign, so unrelated to the pale, slim shape of her other limbs. Swollen and bruised, my heartbeat increased in a panic to see it.
Arit, make haste. The mead will not have an effect on this for long.
”It was my fault.” Gingel inhaled a sob. I set the brush down and wrapped my arms around her.
”No, I”m sure it wasn”t your fault. You aren”t used to the hard work. We never should have had you working with Arit. It should have been me assisting him with the big pieces, and you should have been gathering sticks. I just…I knew you would prefer to be with him. I should have thought better of it.”
”I”d be better at the harder work if you let me do more of it, you know,” Gingel tilted her head back toward me, a single tear barely escaping her blue eyes.
”Nonsense. You do your share, cooking, and cleaning. Gods know I hate making food. No need to make you work any harder than you already do.”
She leaned back against me. ”What are we going to do now?”
”Well, I think we should wait for Arit to come home before we start that discussion. I”ve been thinking about what to do, don”t worry. You know I”ll do what needs to be done.”
”I know.” Her voice smaller, weaker.
Gingel heard a wagon approaching our home before I did, signaling that Arit had found someone to purchase the wood we had prepared for ourselves. I helped him load it quickly for them, and we received our coin. It was not as much as I had hoped, but most everyone else had put up their winter wood a month or more ago. It would have to do.
We gathered in our home, believing it was for the last time. I explained our need to flee south or die. Gingel did not want to leave, but Arit, agreeing with me, brought her around to see that it was for the best. I put on a brave face, reluctant to leave as well. This place was ours. We put so much effort into making it a home.
”Please, Gingel, I cannot heal your leg. It is a grievous wound, and someone with more skill is needed to mend it. I believe we must make for the township of Slivin. There must be a...healer...there who can make you right again.” I did not need more queries about how I intended to fix her. Thankfully, they did not question my plan.
Arit carried Gingel to the wagon, setting her in the back. Tucking a wool blanket around her, he was careful not to touch her leg.
”I”m sorry, Gin. I don”t know how it happened,” he confessed as he held her face in his hands. He kissed her softly, as if she might fall to pieces if he handled her too rough.
”It wasn”t you.” Gingel looked away ashamed but rallied and brought a determined face back to him. ”It will all be well. I know it.”
We finished loading the last of the items to sell while Arit hitched Bordus to the wagon. I propped the door to our home open, hoping perhaps our hovel might serve as a refuge for man or beast someday.
I took one more look around at the four crooked walls that had contained all the laughter and love of the last four years. I hated this feeling of finality—that I was looking upon our home for the last time. It wasn”t much and never had been, not compared to the home we had known before. But to flee now, yet again, with no place to land, soured my stomach.
It”s just a place. We will make new memories somewhere else.
I climbed into the back of the wagon and put my arm around Gingel, steadying her as the wagon swayed and jerked. Those blasted ruts would not be missed.
As we made the turn into the forest that moved our hovel out of sight, I saw Death standing at our door, watching. I glared at him, defiant.
You will not have her, not while I live to save her.