Angelica (40 page)

They had been traveling for a couple of weeks when Tirza fell ill with a retching cough that kept her up all night and made her too weak to travel. Naturally, they made camp on the best site they could find, near water and plentiful firewood, and determined they would not travel on until she was better. A day later, Thaddeus came down with it, and moved out of his own tent to make sure Shua did not also get sick, and then Amram caught the virus, whatever it was. It did not appear to be serious, just wearisome, and everyone rallied around the stricken ones, trying to keep them comfortable.

But with so many hands missing, there was twice as much work to do for everyone who was healthy. Miriam had never hauled so much water in her life, had never chopped so many vegetables or stirred so many pots. She volunteered to launder all the clothes of the sick ones, feeling certain that
she
would not want to still be sleeping in a dress she had coughed on for three days straight, and this task took her one whole day.

Still, Anna looked harassed and Claudia and Shua looked exhausted, and Miriam was fretful, trying to find more that she could do to ease the burdens of those left healthy enough to work. Bartholomew taught her how to build a fire and Shua showed her how to do the mending, though her stitches were clumsy and the hems she set were a little puckered.

One day, Dathan came back with a trio of rabbits slung over his arm, a good bounty now that game was so scarce. Anna, who had not had time to even think about starting dinner yet, threw him a look that was both grateful and exasperated.

“Oh—excellent—I cannot get to them right now,” she said. “Unless—Miriam—no, I'll finish this first and then—” She shook her head, clearly overwhelmed at all the chores before her.

Miriam went to their utensil basket and pulled out two long, wicked knives. She crouched beside Dathan where he had knelt to lay his kills on a clean board near the fire.

“Here,” she said, handing him one of the blades. “Teach me how to skin a rabbit.”

S
usannah thought it remarkable how quickly Keren adapted to life in the Eyrie when she herself was finding it even stranger than it had seemed when she first arrived.

Everything made Keren happy. The water room was a revelation and delight to her; there were mornings Susannah did not think Keren would ever emerge, but would stay inside for the rest of her life, soaping her long hair and then rinsing it out under the constantly falling stream of warm water.

The food made her happy, the effortlessly conjured meals that were laid out in the dining room three times a day (while anyone could sneak into the kitchen anytime and steal a bite or two from the cold rooms and cabinets). Keren was used to working hard for every bite she put into her mouth, but here! Like magic it appeared! There was no end to its availability or its variety. The Edori girl was enthralled.

The people made her happy, too, the endless parade of angel and mortal, resident and petitioner, all of them hurrying in one direction or another, engrossed in their own importance. She was especially happy in the company of Miriam's set of friends, for naturally she had become their little pet.
Chloe and Zibiah took her anywhere she wanted to go, while Sela felt a special kinship with her—another mortal girl deposited here at the hold where so many of her friends were angels, and sometimes thoughtless. Ahio and Nicholas were never far from Keren's side, and they brought her gifts every time they came back from some errand to another part of the province. Ahio teased her with his usual quiet good humor, but Nicky was besotted with her. He would sit beside her for hours, listening patiently to her childish prattle—or maybe not listening, maybe just looking at her perfect oval face, her flawless dark skin, her braided hair, her dreamy eyes.

Indeed, Keren had always been a pretty girl, Susannah thought, but here at the Eyrie—afforded every luxury of grooming and cosmetics—she was beautiful. And her happiness made her irresistible, made even the suspicious Esther and the dour Enoch smile at her and pat her on the head when she passed by. She adored them as she adored everybody else; no wonder they were drawn to her.

Susannah felt old, watching her—old and weary and charmless and dull. Still, she couldn't help loving Keren. Nobody could.

And it was wonderful to have another Edori beside her at night, in the mornings, to whisper tales to and share reminiscences with. With Keren and Kaski beside her, the too-big bed felt just right; the silence of the night was comfortingly filled with steady, untroubled breathing. When she woke in the night—as she did, at least once, every night—Susannah put her hand out to feel Keren's reassuring presence, and her own tensions would ease. She had a sister beside her, family, someone with whom to share her nightmares. She could fall back asleep without fear.

Once in a while, that quick touch in the night would wake Keren from slumber. “What is it?” the girl would ask sleepily.

“Nothing. Just reminding myself that you're here.”

“Are you having that dream again? The same one?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I get you some seadrop? I know right where it is.”

“No, silly thing, if I want herbs I can get up and get them myself.”

“Shall I stay awake and talk to you?”

“If you like.”

“I have been having my own dreams, the most wonderful dreams,” Keren would say in a sleepy voice. “I am wearing a blue dress—not the blue one that I just bought, a deeper color, and it's got embroidery all around the collar, but I didn't have to do it myself . . .”

Susannah loved hearing Keren's dreams, always full of such minute detail about what she was wearing and how her hair was styled. These usually lulled her back to sleep, and more often than not, to a dreamless state. But she was beginning to dread closing her eyes at night, having the same dream over and over again.

She was in a room of white and silver, of flashing lights and strange mystical apparatuses. It was familiar from her many nighttime journeys there, but it was still an alien place, and it disturbed her to be returned there, over and over again, as if it was a place she must memorize or decipher before the dream finally left her in peace. She was not afraid while she was there, not even while that deep, insistent voice spoke to her, saying words she did not understand; but every time she woke, she found her whole body tense with protest and incomprehension.

She had not meant to mention the dream to Gaaron, but he had surprised her by commenting on her look of exhaustion. He had surprised her by showing up at her door, and looking so tall and forbidding that at first she did not think he was happy to see her. She had expected their first meeting to go a bit more formally. She would have presented herself to him at his rooms, reported on Miriam's behavior, applied for permission to allow Keren to stay with her a month or two, and behaved in every way as the model helpmeet she knew he wanted.

She had not expected to be having pillow fights with shrieking girls and looking like a bad month of travel herself.

That first meeting had been awkward, and in the subsequent days, the awkwardness had not passed. He treated her with a somewhat remote courtesy when they sat together at meals, and made no particular effort to seek her out, either to ask her advice or to share news. It was almost as if she
had offended Gaaron somehow, though she could not think how, unless he was not pleased that she had brought Keren here without explicit permission.

And she could not think that was it, because he seemed as fond of Keren as everyone else in the hold was.

Which only served to remind Susannah how, when Gaaron had first told her he was looking for an Edori bride, she had thought Keren must be the one he was seeking.

She could not help but wonder if Gaaron remembered the same thing.

At any rate, included in Gaaron's counsels these days or not, Susannah had had plenty to keep her occupied since her return from Luminaux. First, of course, there was Kaski, the wretched little waif who had tried to starve herself to death while Susannah was gone. Susannah made the girl her first priority, feeding her, petting her, trying to reconnect her to the will to live. For several days, she spent every minute of her day, waking and sleeping, with Kaski, trying to reintegrate her into the regime they had devised before Susannah had left. So the Jansai girl and the Edori woman had gone together to the kitchen to work with Esther and her helpers, had attended classes together with the other hold children, and had received instruction on how to handle a small harp from Lydia. With Susannah beside her, Kaski was perfectly willing to take up these activities again—and gradually, as long as Susannah was still in the hold, Kaski was willing to pursue these exercises on her own.

So that was a victory, of a sort, but Susannah could not persuade herself that all would continue to be well.

As a result of bestowing so much attention on Kaski, she hadn't watched Keren quite as closely as she should have. So when the shipments of fabrics and dresses were delivered to her room at the hold, Susannah was speechless at the quantity and variety that were unfolded.

“Keren—Yovah bless me—child, how much did you buy in Velora?”

“As much as I could,” Keren said happily, pulling bundles out of boxes and bags. “Oh, look, Susannah, is this not the most beautiful shade of gold? See, it is woven of threads all dyed different colors, but how lovely they look together.”

“Yes, but how did you
pay
for all this? Did you persuade Chloe or Zibiah or Sela—”

“Well, Chloe bought me this dress—no, this one—and Sela bought me this one—with her bracelets, you know. And then one day Nicholas told me I could have whatever I wanted, and so the next time I was down with Ahio I asked him—”

“Sweet Yovah's mercy. So each of them has gotten you something, not knowing that the others—”

“Yes, and Enoch bought me the sweetest little gloves, they're red, they match my ribbons—”

“
Enoch?
But he—”

“And when I saw Esther down there one day getting vegetables at the market, she said why didn't we just walk by some of the jewelry stalls, and she got me this little ring—isn't it pretty?”

“Esther?”

“Everyone has been so kind to me,” Keren said earnestly. “Truly, Susannah, I did not ask more than once or twice, and I didn't even
ask
Esther. Well, I thought she would say no, so wasn't it nice of her to offer?”

“Mikala—Keren—I—this is so much merchandise. I don't think—for one person—you might need to return some of it.”

Keren glanced up from her spoils, spread around her like a Jansai's treasure, and looked stricken. “Oh, no, Susannah, do you think so? Because I can't bear to part with it! Any of it! I love this gold fabric so much—and the green dress—oh, and this white gown, see, it's all lace on the top but silk underneath . . .”

Appalled and embarrassed, Susannah did not know what to do. Not wanting to, but seeing no other choice, she went to Gaaron.

He was deep in conversation with Enoch when she knocked on his open door, but the look of inquiry on his face turned quickly from surprise to a sort of guarded welcome. “Come on in,” he invited. “We're almost done here.”

Susannah crossed to the small table where, as always, there was a tray of food set out. Somewhat spitefully, she thought,
Well, at least Esther hasn't been so wrapped up in
spoiling Keren that she's forgetting to spoil Gaaron as well.
But that was mean-spirited. She sat in one of the more normally designed chairs and poured herself a glass of juice. And then, because why should it go to waste, she began nibbling on some of the sweet bread. It was quite good.

Gaaron joined her in a few moments. “You've been busy lately,” was his greeting.

“Yes—I suppose,” she said. “I love these pastries.”

Gaaron glanced down at his plate and laughed. “Esther's newest ambition. To become a baker. Apparently Keren saw something of this sort in a Velora pastry shop and begged Esther to learn to make it. So now we are going to be treated to a succession of cakes and stollens.” He took a bite of one of the sweet breads. “I have to say, I rather admire Keren's taste in food.”

“I am hoping you admire Keren's taste in clothing, too,” Susannah said despairingly.

His eyebrows rose. “Something unsuitable?”

“Not exactly. Gaaron, first let me impress upon you how little she is used to having. The Edori travel six days out of seven, and they can bring almost nothing with them. A few dresses, one or two pairs of shoes, maybe an embroidered blouse that they've made for special days. And Keren, as must be obvious, loves things. Beautiful things. And she has—and, you see, everyone seems to be indulging her, because she is really quite sweet and so beautiful—”

“Too many gifts from Velora?” he interrupted. “All my angels are buying her presents?”

“Gaaron, my room almost cannot hold the packages that have begun to arrive. Dresses and shoes and gloves and hats and scarves and—I didn't even stay to see them all opened. I know she must send some of them back, but she—and I know the hold pays for all the charges accrued to it, but I don't perfectly understand the system. What must I tell her? And how can we stop the others from buying for her everything her mercenary little heart desires?”

He was, thank the god, smiling—but then, of course, he hadn't seen quite how many bundles were being unwrapped on the floor of Susannah's room. “The Eyrie is rich enough to pay for a few pretty things for a pretty girl,” he said.
“None of the angels—or mortals—no one who lives here would spend so rashly that we could not cover the expenses. I'm sure you're right. I'm sure they have given her more than she should expect. But it won't hurt her to be indulged for once in her life. I'll put the word out quietly that Keren will be quite adequately clothed for the next few weeks, and perhaps you can explain to her that there are spending limits. But you don't have to send anything back. I would hate to see her made unhappy.”

Susannah's mouth almost dropped open from the surprise, but she clamped her jaws shut and swallowed instead. “That's very kind of you, Gaaron,” she said. “I will tell her how generous you are.”

He laughed. “And it would not be inappropriate for you to spend a little on yourself now and then,” he said almost gaily. “Perhaps you could accompany Keren on her next trip into Velora, and she could pick out a few gowns for you as well.”

How mortifying. He disliked her dark colors, her sensible though highly appropriate skirts and blouses. He wanted her to be more vivid, more colorful . . . more like Keren. “Perhaps I'll do that,” she said quietly, coming to her feet. “Thank you, Gaaron. Keren will be quite happy.”

Now he frowned up at her, as if aware that she had taken something amiss, but not at all sure what. “I hope that you are happy, too, Susannah,” he said gravely.

She nodded. “I'm sure the purchase of a few new outfits will have the desired effect,” she said, something of an edge in her voice. Before he could offer up a reply to that, she turned and headed for the door. She didn't say good-bye as she passed into the hallway, and he made no other remark before she left.