Dryad-Born
Page 60
Phae folded her arms over her knees. “I’ll think about it. I am so tired, Father. So very tired.”
“Get some sleep,” Tyrus said. “We will have little rest in the days ahead.”
Phae stretched out on the hard-packed floor, using her cloak as a pillow. Waves of weariness crashed down on her. Her entire life was hanging askew. Voices murmured in the stillness. She heard the prince speaking softly. Tyrus muttered a response. Her mind grew thick like churning butter. She tried to listen, but felt herself drifting farther away.
Then she heard the Kishion speaking to Tyrus. His voice was low, as it always was, but she felt the words cut through the veils of sleep falling over her.
“I will not let you force her to do this. She must choose it.”
Daylight came through the uneven slats in the cellar door and Tyrus beckoned her to follow him up the ladder. Phae climbed the ladder outside, feeling her muscles ache with fatigue. The air was sharp and cold and she shivered, hugging herself for warmth as little puffs of mist came from her mouth. The old man, Evritt, greeted them from the porch with a small cauldron of porridge to stave off the chill. It was amber with honey swirls and tasted delicious. Fruits and nuts accompanied the meal along with water from a rain barrel on the far side of the cabin.
The prince practiced some strange morning ritual, standing stock-still, knees bent and legs flexed, his arms crisscrossing in a pattern of maneuvers that looked menacing. He rarely moved his legs, other than to shift the stance occasionally, as if his feet were slowly sinking into the earth. The motions were intriguing to watch and she studied him as she ate the porridge.
Tyrus conferred with Evritt on the porch, discussing someone named Hettie, a girl who had worked for him for some time. Not understanding the conversation, Phae abandoned the empty bowl and started to wander around the secluded grounds, exploring the various benches, curing sheds, and fire pits that had developed over time. Even a small stream trickled nearby and she went to find it, seeing a strange black-masked animal washing something in it with its paws when she arrived.
She stared at it and it stared at her, chittering in a friendly sound before slinking away up the stream bank.
Phae turned and saw the Kishion nearby, leaning against a cedar.
“You are quiet,” she said.
He folded his arms and gazed back at her. “What will you do?”
She crouched by the stream and ran her fingers through the chilly water. After rising, she approached him. “What do you think I should do?”
“What does my opinion matter?”
She glanced down. She was still frightened of him, but no longer feared he would stab her ruthlessly. “It matters to me. Strangely.” She looked up at him, cocking her head. “I heard something you said last night. That you wouldn’t let them force me to do this.” She swallowed. “Thank you.”
He shrugged as if it were of no importance. “Would you shove a man in front of a runaway cart to stop it from crushing five people? Or would you jump in front of the cart yourself? Either way, a person dies and five are saved. In one case it is murder and in the other the sacrifice is willing. There is a difference.”
“Or you let the cart kill the five,” Phae said. “I suppose I see your point.”
The Kishion stared hard at her. “It is a sacrifice, to be sure. The obligation you face must be a great burden.”
“Sympathy, Kishion?” she said, her mouth twisting into a smile. “From you?”
He looked at her calmly. “You have a choice in this, Phae. If you say the word, I will take you back to Stonehollow. You can hide in those mountains for a long time. It is outside the Arch-Rike’s reach for now.”
She frowned, her face pinching. “Now you are tempting me with freedom. That is not fair.”
“You have a choice. Which is more than I have right now.”
She picked a fleck of wood from his sleeve. “How would I live with myself, though? I am young and so have never experienced the ravages of the Plague before. I know my blood can save a few families from perishing. But if I could stop thousands of families from being destroyed? Could I be so…selfish? How would I feel watching so many die and wondering if I could have prevented it?”
“You’ve made up your mind then.” It was spoken as a fact.
She gazed down at her boots and nodded. Her throat was too tight to speak.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Then I will go with you. I have a feeling it is not the first time I’ve been there.”
“Maybe you will remember again. When we get there.”
“Get some sleep,” Tyrus said. “We will have little rest in the days ahead.”
Phae stretched out on the hard-packed floor, using her cloak as a pillow. Waves of weariness crashed down on her. Her entire life was hanging askew. Voices murmured in the stillness. She heard the prince speaking softly. Tyrus muttered a response. Her mind grew thick like churning butter. She tried to listen, but felt herself drifting farther away.
Then she heard the Kishion speaking to Tyrus. His voice was low, as it always was, but she felt the words cut through the veils of sleep falling over her.
“I will not let you force her to do this. She must choose it.”
Daylight came through the uneven slats in the cellar door and Tyrus beckoned her to follow him up the ladder. Phae climbed the ladder outside, feeling her muscles ache with fatigue. The air was sharp and cold and she shivered, hugging herself for warmth as little puffs of mist came from her mouth. The old man, Evritt, greeted them from the porch with a small cauldron of porridge to stave off the chill. It was amber with honey swirls and tasted delicious. Fruits and nuts accompanied the meal along with water from a rain barrel on the far side of the cabin.
The prince practiced some strange morning ritual, standing stock-still, knees bent and legs flexed, his arms crisscrossing in a pattern of maneuvers that looked menacing. He rarely moved his legs, other than to shift the stance occasionally, as if his feet were slowly sinking into the earth. The motions were intriguing to watch and she studied him as she ate the porridge.
Tyrus conferred with Evritt on the porch, discussing someone named Hettie, a girl who had worked for him for some time. Not understanding the conversation, Phae abandoned the empty bowl and started to wander around the secluded grounds, exploring the various benches, curing sheds, and fire pits that had developed over time. Even a small stream trickled nearby and she went to find it, seeing a strange black-masked animal washing something in it with its paws when she arrived.
She stared at it and it stared at her, chittering in a friendly sound before slinking away up the stream bank.
Phae turned and saw the Kishion nearby, leaning against a cedar.
“You are quiet,” she said.
He folded his arms and gazed back at her. “What will you do?”
She crouched by the stream and ran her fingers through the chilly water. After rising, she approached him. “What do you think I should do?”
“What does my opinion matter?”
She glanced down. She was still frightened of him, but no longer feared he would stab her ruthlessly. “It matters to me. Strangely.” She looked up at him, cocking her head. “I heard something you said last night. That you wouldn’t let them force me to do this.” She swallowed. “Thank you.”
He shrugged as if it were of no importance. “Would you shove a man in front of a runaway cart to stop it from crushing five people? Or would you jump in front of the cart yourself? Either way, a person dies and five are saved. In one case it is murder and in the other the sacrifice is willing. There is a difference.”
“Or you let the cart kill the five,” Phae said. “I suppose I see your point.”
The Kishion stared hard at her. “It is a sacrifice, to be sure. The obligation you face must be a great burden.”
“Sympathy, Kishion?” she said, her mouth twisting into a smile. “From you?”
He looked at her calmly. “You have a choice in this, Phae. If you say the word, I will take you back to Stonehollow. You can hide in those mountains for a long time. It is outside the Arch-Rike’s reach for now.”
She frowned, her face pinching. “Now you are tempting me with freedom. That is not fair.”
“You have a choice. Which is more than I have right now.”
She picked a fleck of wood from his sleeve. “How would I live with myself, though? I am young and so have never experienced the ravages of the Plague before. I know my blood can save a few families from perishing. But if I could stop thousands of families from being destroyed? Could I be so…selfish? How would I feel watching so many die and wondering if I could have prevented it?”
“You’ve made up your mind then.” It was spoken as a fact.
She gazed down at her boots and nodded. Her throat was too tight to speak.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Then I will go with you. I have a feeling it is not the first time I’ve been there.”
“Maybe you will remember again. When we get there.”
