Chapter 2 Autumn #2
Elana stood firm against the tug. “Your shadows can’t frighten me,” she said, “For I have darkness in me also.”
The shadows howled in response. Elana was vaguely certain they were no risk to her, for she had no shadow to devour.
But what about the dozen massacred when the monster raged?
Her heart stuttered and a seed of doubt sprouted between her ribs.
Before she could run, or move, or even think of what to do next, with a wailing like the coldest most frigid winter storm, the shadows slid around the well three times, and disappeared, echoing, into its depths.
For a long time, Elana stood at the well, waiting for something, anything, to happen. When at last it seemed the monster would not return, Elana made her way back home and slid into her bed and slept soundly for the first time since the well had opened.
The first thing Elana noticed when she woke the following morning was that her cuffs were not bound to the bed.
The second thing she noticed was that she was starving.
What a unique and novel torture, to feel hungry! What an exquisite bodily sensation, one that drove Elana immediately to the edge of her bed with the knowledge that this particular ache inside of her could be immediately sated at the breakfast table with her family.
And that was when she remembered with clarity the sating of a different desire the night before, the desire to go to the well.
She sucked her bottom lip in thought. Had it been a dream?
It hadn’t felt like a dream. Shadows that were real and solid and could touch her?
Could make her feel things? Certainly those were the inventions of a hungry and sleep deprived mind.
She shook her head, scolding herself for yet another silly dream. And yet, as she stood up from her bed, her foot was loose from its bounds…
And then she noticed the third thing.
Morning sunlight streamed in through her window, clear and golden. And at her feet, where there’d been only bright emptiness her whole life, rested the small and weak beginnings of a new shadow.
Elana’s throat grew dry, her heart sticking near the top of her chest, choking her. Her eyes barely recognized the small, grey space on the floor, but as she stared at it, it became impossible to deny. She rocked forward, and then back, and the small patch of darkness moved with her.
She raced to her closet and tugged her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor, hiding the shadow in the depths of her longest and fullest skirt.
Where had it come from? How was this possible?
She stood with her forehead pressed against the closet door, trying to swallow down her pulse.
Images of the shadowed folk being bled, being displayed like animals, being forced to sit by the well regardless of the weather, all played through her mind.
Was she one of them now?
And if she could suddenly grow a shadow… the wider implications raced toward her. Could other people too? Could shadows return to the valley?
“You’re awake,” came Mama’s calm voice at the door.
Elana startled, fluffing her skirts wide, the better to hide the shadow below her.
“And you’re dressed.” Mama came toward her, reached out a hand and palmed Elana’s cheek. Her thumb traced the lines under Elana’s eye. “You seem… rested.”
Elana nodded, swallowing, trying to wet her dry throat. “I feel rested. I actually slept last night.” The words flowed out easily enough, the truth of them sweet on her tongue. It was the best sleep she’d had in weeks.
Her stomach growled. Mama withdrew her hand and looked down at Elana’s midsection. “Are you hungry?”
Elana felt heat rise to her cheeks. She pressed her palms there, and nodded at Mama, her eyes stinging with tears. “Oh, mama, I am. I’m so hungry.”
Mama couldn’t contain her joy. Mama Allard’s greatest way to show love was through her cooking, and Elana had hardly eaten a thing lately.
She took Elana’s thin wrist and tugged her toward the kitchen, where the other Allard children were already lined up down the dining room table, enjoying fresh scones with preserves and mugs of tea, leftover ham warming on the stove.
Papa stirred a skillet of eggs, never one to shy away from kitchen work.
All her siblings looked up, surprised to see her. They’d grown used to her wandering past the table at mealtimes, unable to partake, so it was no wonder they were surprised to see her scrape back her chair and grab a warm scone from the basket.
“Are you feeling better?” asked Josephine, hope gilding her voice. “Oh, you even look better. Oh, I’m so glad!” She threw an arm around Elana, pulling her into a one-sided hug. “What’s changed? Why the sudden turn around?”
Marcus eyed her again with that tilted head and narrowed gaze, visibly chewing the inside of his cheek. What did he suspect?
Elana opened her mouth to speak but found she didn’t know what to say. She could hardly tell them that she’d gone to the well and shadows had danced all around her and now she was healthy again and by the way she was also growing a new shadow.
No, that wouldn’t do at all.
Instead, she closed her lips and offered a demure smile. “Whatever was plaguing me must have simply passed,” she said softly, and then proceeded to shove half a scone with raspberry jam into her mouth. If she was eating, they could hardly expect her to answer more questions.
So the chatter of the big family proceeded over breakfast and Elana felt more normal than she’d felt since the storm opened the well.
“I’ll check in with the priestesses this morning,” Marcus was saying to father, and Elana’s ears perked. She glanced at him, and found he was already looking right at her. The steely determination in his gaze stole her breath and sent her heart scattering.
“Oh?” asked Papa. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’m just wondering how long they’re going to stand by the well and find nothing, how long they’re going to make the shadowed ones sit there trying to tempt a monster that may not even exist anymore.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Josephine, “to think about those less fortunate souls.”
But Elana could hardly pay attention to the conversation anymore, because she was sure the monster wasn’t gone. She was sure she’d met it last night. What if there was evidence? What if her family suddenly knew that’s where she’d been, that’s why she was well again?
“I could go with you,” she blurted.
Marcus frowned. “Why? Why do you always want to go to the well?” He folded his arms over his chest, waiting to hear what she had to say.
Well, if Elana knew the answer to that, maybe all of this could have been avoided.
She suddenly realized, though, that something was different.
The desire to visit the well wasn’t so overwhelming this morning.
She felt it would be all right if she didn’t go there immediately.
The need that had filled her for so long was now leaving enough space for her to breathe, for her to eat.
“Fine, all right, you don’t need to be rude,” she said with a sniff. “I’ll find something else to do.” She shrugged an elegant shoulder as if it were an insignificant suggestion, the one that she do something else, anything else, besides visit the well.
Marcus didn’t look like he believed it.
Quiet blanketed the table until Mama interrupted it. “You can go into town, Elana. I need flour, and you need a few skeins of linen. We need a fresh set of towels, and it would do you good to set up the loom and weave a bit.”
Everything in Elana went on high alert at the suggestion, her pulse ticking up, her breath coming faster.
Could she go into town with a new shadow beneath her feet?
The dress hid it well, as the fabric didn’t have a shadow of its own.
But if her skirts were caught in an errant breeze, and someone happened to look just the right way at just the right time…
No, she was being silly. No one would even think to be looking for new shadows, since no new shadows had been recorded in a hundred years. She swallowed her trepidation, and gave Mama a nod and a smile.
After breakfast was cleared away, Elana gathered a market basket and let her feet lead the way into town.
No longer were wildflowers blooming; with the coming of nightly frosts, their petals had wilted and fallen in preparation for the deeper parts of winter.
The noontime sun bled warmth, but there was an undeniable chill in the air that suggested winter was on its way.
Elana basked in the feeling of the glow on her face and the icy breeze to refresh her.
As the meadow path turned to the cobbled streets of town, the bustle of the market made itself apparent.
Elana thought it seemed busier than normal, but maybe it was simply because winter was coming and people were starting to prepare.
Tables groaned beneath the weight of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables, even tomatoes still green on the vine but plucked by farmers and brought inside to avoid the kiss of frost. Gourds and squash, still growing hardy, and mounds and mounds of cucumbers ready for pickling.
Despite the beauty and bounty before her, Elana was distracted.
She couldn’t help but keep one eye over her shoulder.
She felt like any second a priestess would grab her by the shoulder and cry for all to hear, “Look at this girl with her new shadow! Look at this young woman who has been drawn to the well her whole life, look at the evidence that she has sinned, that she has visited with the monster in the well!”
Another thought tugged at her mind then; if the monster really was still there in the well, would it not be drawn to new shadows as the stories say? Would it not be drawn to her new shadow?
And if it was, she had led it directly into town.