I glance in that direction.
That beautiful golden stallion is galloping along the fence line, and the speed with which it travels is breathtaking.
“Can you come back in an hour,” the stable man says gruffly.
I think of Lena and Ronl.
“Certainly.” I look over at the maid’s twin sister. “And I’ll figure something out, somehow. Don’t worry about me if there’s none to be sold.”
The stable girl is staring out over the field, her eyes on the stallion.
“You come back then,” the stabler tells me. “We just need a little time.”
“Again, it’s not your worry—but I will take his tack.” Glancing down at the gelding, grief pierces my heart. “Please treat him well. He was very good to me.”
“We will,” the girl says. “He’ll be buried here, right beneath this tree he chose.”
Lowering my head, it is all I can do to walk away, my sodden slippers trudging up the incline, stepping through the fence rail, and carrying me back to the muddy lane. I was going to stop by the new parents anyway, and seeing that infant in all its vitality is what I need right now. As I go down the thoroughfare, there are all kinds of people out and about, their voices stressed and fast, their bodies overanimated—but that’s not just because of what they’re talking about.
I think of the horses, cantering and free in the sunlight.
Animals and people are not so different sometimes. But the humans here on Anathos are aware of what’s coming. The horses are just enjoying the sunshine and feel of their legs stretching.
When I arrive at the herbist shop, there’s a woman exiting with a small paper bag. She seems harried, her hair askew, and she bumps into me in her rush. Catching the door, I go inside—
There’s a line of talking women, and all of them look as though they’ve just rolled out of bed. They’re speaking in the language the stabler used with the girl, their rushing syllables covering the air like layers of fallen leaves, everything a jumble. Down at the register, Ronl is trying to get them to calm down, as he points at an empty glass container next to him.
I’ll bet whatever they’re looking for is to ward off evil. In an instant, I’mback at the burned-out settlement, looking at those markings by the doors… and the bloodstains on the floors.
Even though I’m scared, I’m doing the right thing in trying to go south, I tell myself.
As I catch his eye, he gives me a wave and nods at the door behind him. I hustle down and give his arm a pat as I scoot into the back.
“Lena?”
“In here,” comes the quick reply from the bedroom.
As I pass through, there are some swaddling blankets soaking in a tub by the water faucet, and a partially made breakfast on the counter of hens’ eggs, and a bread wedge.
Edging open the door, I smile at Lena as she feeds her precious daughter. Then I point over my shoulder. “It looks as though Ronl was making you something to eat and got interrupted. May I finish the job?”
“Oh, would you? I’m almost done with her, and I’m still a bit sore.”
“Just a moment.”
It feels very good to do a simple task, cracking the hens’ bounty over a cast-iron pan, and taking it over to the hearth. Sinking down onto my haunches, I go to put the—
The flames that curl up from the core of glowing embers bend toward me, their orange and yellow peaks tilting forward.
As I jerk back with a curse, Lena says with worry, “Sorrel?”
Shaking myself, I glance back at the bedroom door. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
I put my hand over my mouth. Then shove the pan onto the cooking grate and jump to my feet. “Oh, fine. Just fine, indeed.”
Rubbing my eyes, I tell myself that there’s a draft coming down the flue. A draft from the shop outside. A draft from the open window because the temperature outside is finally warming up.
