3: Summer Is A Place
"I...I don't know, and I'm not sure what you mean—Where am I?" My voice was meek and rough. How long had I lost consciousness after falling into the cave? Oh god, I was so thirsty.
The woman looked as I clutched my ankle with my tanned hands, my blood drying on my chest and neck. Mud packed around every body part that had been sitting in the pool. Then, wincing, she gestured for my ankle. An electric spark jumped from the center of my chest to the woman's gently reaching hands. She snapped it back quickly. Her green eyes shot to my black eyes, then slowly looked me up and down.
"I'll ask again, girl, who do you belong to?" The figure said more softly. I searched my throbbing head for an answer that might appease this woman. I thought of my family, our loving home— Destroyed, completely and utterly destroyed. I didn't say anything but blinked quickly, biting back the tears that threatened to flow from my eyes.
"There's a stitch dropped in your cloak." The woman nodded towards my chest. My hand went to my ripped and mended brown wool cloak akimbo on my shoulders.
"There's more than a stitch dropped here," I said, idly fingering a scorch mark on the cloak. It must have burned when the beast slammed our table into the hearth, oil lamps shattering and exploding on impact as I opened the door to my homestead. I had screamed for my mother, face to face with the beast, but she had ignored me. When our home was quickly engulfed in flames, my mother didn't even turn her head to the doorway when she yelled for me to run. I had obeyed and turned heel so quickly that my shoulders knocked on the door frame. I couldn't be patient with my steps then, as dread consumed me.
"Not your clothing, the cloak, the protection binding you." She nodded again towards my chest. "If you don't mind, it might be best for me to remove it outright." She looked behind her, "There are creatures here who can sense something out of place more than something that isn't there, to begin with." Were there more things like the beast here? Where was here? I desperately searched the woman's face for malice or any ill intent. There was nothing but genuine concern in her eyes.
"I don't know how to remove it," I said truthfully. "I didn't even know it was there at all." She pondered my statement for a minute, looking at my injuries and my damaged and swollen skull, bringing her finger towards my chest from where her hand had just recoiled. Her fingers, graceful and long, were scarred and calloused at her fingertips. It was in great contrast to the rest of her smooth and dewy olive skin. She was gorgeous at this close distance. A beauty that seemed otherworldly.
The woman's emerald eyes narrowed, and her full mouth tightened as she focused her hand. That sparking feeling started again between my collarbones, and the fear built in me. Slowly materializing from the ether, the frayed half of that magical red thread, the thread that the waters had snapped, appeared. Taking her other hand, she grabbed a free end of the filament. As soon as she took it between her finger and thumb, the thread cut her fingertip. Small amounts of blood appeared as she began pulling that thread. More yarns appeared around me as she stretched, knitted with loops and purls loosely around my entire form. Finally, when those magical fibers clouded my whole vision, she yanked hard once above her head, muttering something under her breath. Then, as quickly as the threads had appeared, they blinked out of existence with another crackling whipping noise. I gasped, feeling some invisible weight move off of me. I felt lighter than I ever had before.
"That cloak, although damaged, was a strong magic— I haven't felt something that strong in years." She inspected her bleeding hand, wiping it on her skirts. "Maybe centuries." Her eyes flicked back to my injured leg and head. "Can you stand...girl?" I weakly attempted to put weight on my unmarred ankle and foot.
"My name is Cordelia," I said as I reached for her hand. "And if you help me, I can walk on this leg." I motioned towards the less painful limb. She grabbed my hand with those damaged fingers.
"I can, and I will," the woman said. "My name is Penelope— the estate is not far." She squeezed my palm and hoisted me up, placing my arm over her shoulder with ease that implied great strength in that delicate frame. "You can call me Nelo," she said, adjusting her balance to support my broken body. I instantly felt safe with her, but I wasn't sure why. "You ready? I think we can help a bit with those wounds, Cordelia." She told me.
"Thank you," I said, a single tear welling in my eye. "I don't know how to repay you for your kindness Nelo," I spoke her name softly. She just nodded, and we set off over the hill, trying to mask my wincing as my stiff bones shifted and burning muscles flexed.
When we crested the hill, I realized it had obscured my view. We weren't in an empty field but at the edge of a glorious estate. Gardens trailed from beyond the hill to a huge white marble building. Symmetrical and squared, hundreds of tiny windows dotted its length: three stories tall, a large entryway flanked by marble pillars held up a red clay roof. The spacious marble steps of the entry led up a beautiful pair of carved golden doors. Fawns and foxes danced in high grasses, life teeming around me as I had never seen. The golden gates' handles materialized as two figures as I approached, hands clasped where the double door seams met. Nelo tugged at the female handle and flung the door wide, shuffling me into the foyer.
The foyer alone was the grandest room I had ever seen. Ornately decorated walls accented cool white marble floors. The walls were covered in gold molding that glinted in the light of the fireplace. You could fit our whole carriage in the room's hearth, and it was grand beyond reason, and the appropriately sized fire roared in it. Tapestries woven of bloody battles, hunts, and beautiful women hung in the hall. I could have sworn the woman woven onto those tapestries moved, dancing around a bonfire scene. I blinked, and when I looked again, the woven women looked at me. I gaped with an open mouth as Nelo hobbled me over to a beautiful green velvet chaise lounge. Far more extensive than my body would ever need, maybe this was the home of some great beast— maybe the beast I had only barely outrun. I began to worry that perhaps I had agreed to come into a stranger's home, in a strange land, with what could be fatal wounds might not have been my best idea. I leaned back onto the chaise and told myself I needed to keep my wits about me.
The pounding in my head increased as I shut my eyes and tried to will it away. The fire in the oversized hearth fought to warm my chilled extremities. I had removed my brown wool cloak and used it to cover my chest. My shirt had become torn, bloodied. The cave mud stuck to my linen blouse in ways that revealed my shape that left me feeling exposed. I realized that I was at odds with this beautifully kept manor. I felt so out of place, like a swath of dirt on an angel's face. I didn't know how I could be so chilled. The world I had left was a cold and bleak winter. Here, it was summer. The warm air had kissed my skin from the second I landed in that field, but it seemed as though that warmth did not penetrate my deeper self. My legs and hands still had slight shivering I couldn't control. I heard hurried steps from the hallway where Nelo had gone.
Maybe she was adept as my mother in healing. I should have asked her more questions about what potions and poultices she made. I had never bothered with specifics on such things with her. My childish naivety that she would be a constant presence in my life. You're not supposed to lose your parents like this. I had always imagined my parents as old and in love, but never gone. I was always sure it wouldn't be easy for him to hand over the reins of the farm to my future husband and I. Strange to think it was just another daydream I'd had. It would never actually happen. They would permanently stay the same age in my mind now. I would get older, yet they would remain unchanged. I promised myself I would try not to remember them by those last moments.
My Father, standing in front of my mother, held our scythe to that beast. My mother placed her gentle hand on my Father's daunting shoulders. My Father's frame looked minuscule compared to the beast. Its skin glowed the deepest blue. The color that I imagined what the seas looked like, never having been to the coast. My mother, Aquila, pushed my Father aside and spoke directly to that beast. She had screamed for me to run, never looking in my direction. Maybe it would have broken her too much to see me. I tried pushing the memory from my mind. Not like this. Their last moments are not how I would remember them. I would find that beast and kill him. I should probably have had a better plan than that, but I wasn't one to think things through. I was not my Father, but I did try to hold my mother's bravery somewhere in my bones. I had to.
I struggled to focus my eyes on the fresco that adorned the ceilings of this glittering room. The weight of the atmosphere pushed down on my chest. My breathing was suddenly haggard. I heard hurried footsteps approaching me, my field of vision quickly narrowing with blackness.
"I don't know where she's from, but— Orthus, she's human," Nelo spoke to someone else. I went to answer but realized my voice was caught somewhere deep in my chest, the tremors in my body turning to intense shakes and spasms.
"She's in shock. Get the healer— quickly!" The voice, smooth as river stones, ordered Nelo with authority. I forced my eyes open again and willed everything in me for them to focus. His form, not that of Nelo's, hovered closely over my head. He was in a glittering blue robe, loosely tied around his waist as though he had just woken from sleep. The fabric was draped on his shape in a way where I couldn't deny his incredible form. He was tall, with angular but broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist. His long hair was blonde, nearly white, straight as reeds, and lying swept back over his shoulders. A small circlet of gold adorned the crown of his head. The man's eyes were deep blue, almost black. He reached his size-able squared hand towards my brow. Even as I shook, he could decipher the flinch his approaching hand caused because he paused.
It dawned on me suddenly that I didn't know where I was. I was lying in the stranger's home, my clothing ripped and indecent. I was a moth to the flame, awed by the beauty of these creatures who seemed almost human. Nelo owed me no kindness, so why had she brought me here? The beast had screamed for me as I ran- I didn't know who to trust. I wasn't thinking about my next move, anticipating my opponent.
I'm so sorry Father, I thought, trying to turn my fear into action. I had to do something, and I couldn't just let things happen to me anymore.
My adrenaline surged— thinking of all the training I had done. Balling up my fist, I shifted my weight in the chaise to propel my practiced hand squarely into this strange man's face. His aquiline nose cracked, eyes widening as he shot back from my body. Nelo shrieked in response. The man held the bridge of his nose loosely, entirely confused. He took a deep breath, maybe to steady his nerves, a thick stream of crimson blood slid from his right nostril. He leaned into me again, so close a drop of his blood hit my chin as he sternly now spoke.
Illustration by Ana Kajaia
Illustration by Ana Kajaia
Illustration by Ana Kajaia
"I am Orthus, summer king. I do not know who you are or how you've arrived in a place protected from outsiders, but until we can ascertain such things, I promise you are safe in this house." He placed his hand on my forehead, and he was warm like the fire against my cool skin. "May I calm your mind?" He asked, tilting his head to the side to imply it was a request and not an order. The tone was very different from the one he had given me immediately after my fist had connected with his face.
My body's shaking intensified as shock set in, but he took my lack of answer as a yes. Closing his eyes, I began succumbing to the loss of consciousness that the momentary burst of adrenaline had delayed me. I felt the heat of his hand spread across my body. Suddenly, I was lying on the riverbank, warmed by the summer sun. Pure joy filled me. I fell into a blissfully dreamless slumber.
