Angelica (48 page)

“But Lena doesn't give up, and sometimes Clara does,” Zack said with some energy. “Silas is just like his mother, too, that's why he gives up. I told her she had to be tougher with Matthew.”

“Matthew?”

“The baby. She better raise him right.”

Gaaron was sure the last person on earth Clara would want child-rearing tips from was Zack. But, amazingly, there seemed to have been some kind of deal struck, some kind of
bond woven, among this little group during the span of their adventure.

“So how badly do Matthew and the other baby take to flying? How far can you go before they—start crying or whatever?”

“Before they start throwing up,” Zack said with a certain bitterness. “About fifteen minutes.”

“That's unfortunate,” Gaaron said.

“Why?”

“Because we're here to fly the whole group to Monteverde. You made a good decision, joining the caravan, but you were wrong. You weren't safe here, either. Nicholas just flew back with news that a big settlement had been burned down not seventy-five miles from here.”

Zack's face paled. “How big?”

“Maybe fifty people.” Gaaron swept his arm out to indicate the slow-moving mass ahead of them. “If they can destroy fifty people at a time, they can destroy a hundred.”

“What do you want to do?” Zack asked.

Gaaron glanced down at him. “What do
you
want to do?”

Zack thought about it. “I'd rather have vomit all over my shirt than be burned up,” he said. “If we wait till both babies are asleep, we can probably go some distance before they get sick. We could try it, anyway.”

“What about the furniture?” Gaaron asked.

Zack squinted at the caravan ahead. “Pay someone to haul it,” he suggested. “They're going to Monteverde anyway. Someone would be willing to bring it.”

Gaaron clapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent!” he approved. “I'll let you make the arrangements.”

Zack stared up at him as if astonished. Gaaron realized that it might have been the first time he had ever offered the boy approval of any sort, and that maybe Zack was having trouble recognizing the expression on his face. “You did well,” he said again. “I'm proud of you.”

K
aski had not been happy about the visit from the angels. It was hard sometimes to determine what fueled the little girl's moods, but this time the cause and effect seemed pretty clear. She hated that Susannah had spent the entire morning with Neri and Adriel, and she ignored Susannah that night as the two of them prepared for bed.

As always, Susannah talked to her in a kind, encouraging voice, as if they were having a normal conversation. “Adriel has decided that I should get married while it is still winter, when all the world is old and dry and covered in snow,” she said, combing out her hair in front of the mirror. Kaski lay curled up in a ball on the big bed and appeared not to be listening. “She says that this means my marriage will blossom along with the buds and new leaves that arrive with spring. I don't actually think this would have been her first choice,” Susannah continued with a laugh. “She really wanted me to marry about a month before the Gloria, when spring is just about to arrive. But I told her that the Gathering would be held then, and that no silly marriage to any no-account Archangel would prevent me from attending the Gathering, so she decided to move the date up a little.”

Susannah laid her brush down and moved through the room, extinguishing all lights except a small one near the water room. Then she climbed into bed beside the small stiff bundle of disapproval. “You can attend my wedding, won't you like that?” Susannah whispered into the back of the child's head. Her hair was scented with fresh herbs and soap, and her skin had a little-girl smell. “Perhaps we can buy you a new gown and you can parade across the plateau tossing out dried rose leaves and manna seeds. I'll make a garland for your hair and embroider a handkerchief for you to carry.”

But this elicited no response from Kaski, either, unless the small body shrinking even farther away could be considered a response. Susannah sighed, kissed the dark hair, and rolled over to face the other way.

She missed everybody. She missed Miriam, who used to come here at least once a week and spend the night with her and Kaski; she missed Chloe and Sela and Zibiah, who would often spend the last two hours of the day in this room, gossiping about recent events, before seeking their own beds. And she missed Keren, who had slept in this bed every night since she arrived at the Eyrie . . . until a week ago, when she had begun spending her nights in Nicholas' bed instead.

Susannah sighed again and tried to mold her pillow into a comfortable shape. She had done her best to fit into the lifestyle at the angel hold. She had made true friends and she believed that Gaaron valued her. But she was so lonely sometimes. Everyone was so polite and distant; there was not that casual affection, the quick hug, the kiss in passing, that she was used to and still craved, every day. Yovah had sent her here and she accepted her duty. She would serve the god and the Archangel with every scrap of intelligence she could muster. But she missed the emotion. Her soul was crying out for love.

She twisted over to lie on her back. Keren had found love, of course; Keren always did. Susannah could not decide what she thought about this union of angel and Edori girl, mostly because it was not clear to her which one of them would suffer most when the relationship came to an end. As it had to, didn't it? Surely Nicholas was expected to marry well, bring in a high-caste Manadavvi girl with whom he could
sire more volatile, warmhearted angels? And surely Keren was too restless to stay here more than a season, flirting with the luxuries of life but true, at heart, to her Edori origins.

Susannah was a great believer in letting people make their own choices, and their own mistakes, but she could not help worrying a little about both of them. They seemed so much in love. She remembered that great swooping emotion, so giddy and so intense, and she envied them—but she feared for them, too. Equally as great would be the sense of loss and betrayal; no matter how grand the world seemed now, it would feel small and bleak and desolate when the love affair ended. She knew. She had lost just such a love herself.

She told herself she would settle for companionship now. But here she was, alone with a sulky child, not even a friend to share her night with. She refused to cry or feel sorry for herself, but her face grew tight with the effort of holding back tears, and she was so tense that it was an hour or more before she could fall asleep.

The next few days were no less dreary, gray and damp outside the hold, anxious and silent inside it, as everyone awaited news about Zack and Jude. When the whole flock of angels finally reappeared—everyone safe, the whole venture a success—relief sent the entire hold into a festive mood. Esther cooked up a feast, and after the meal they all gathered outside in the cold, wet air to sing songs of celebration. Susannah wanted just five minutes alone with Gaaron to ask him for details of the trip and to make sure he wasn't still punishing himself for sending the boys away in the first place. But everyone, it seemed, wanted to be close to Gaaron this night. There was no time for a private conversation.

And in the morning he was gone, off to the southern settlements to warn the farmers of fresh dangers. She thought she had risen early enough to wish him farewell, but he had left before true dawn. It was not certain when he would return.

The news put her in a gloomy mood, which she made some effort to push aside. It was a pretty day, cold but clear.
Never waste a gift from Yovah,
Anna used to say on brilliant winter days, and Susannah had always tried to take the advice
to heart. Particularly now—there was no need to sulk inside the Eyrie just because she was feeling low. She would take advantage of the sun.

Accordingly, she rounded up Chloe and Zibiah and even Kaski, and headed down to Velora to shop. The little Jansai girl sometimes enjoyed the open marketplace and sometimes did not, and Susannah had long ago given up trying to figure out what made her like Velora and what turned her against it. Today she was quite content to wander from stall to stall, admiring the silk and gold and spices, her eyes crinkling up happily behind the severe mask of her veil.

“Traditionally, of course, a bride wears gold,” Chloe said, fingering a long bolt of yellow satin. “Not quite this color, though.”

“Lady Anne wore blue at her wedding last year,” Zibiah said.

“Oh, well, in
Semorrah
, what do you expect?” Chloe said scornfully. “The angel brides wear gold.” She picked up a length of figured silk and held it up to Susannah's face. “A good color for you. The darker, the better. Bronze, I think, not true gold.”

“With an embroidered collar,” Zibiah added.

“I could do the embroidery myself,” Susannah agreed.

“Did Adriel have a style of dress in mind?” Chloe asked.

“She said she would send me a few patterns.”

“Well, she had better act quickly! If the wedding is only to be a couple of months away—do you realize how much is to be done?”

Susannah shook her head. “I don't know, it seems very strange to be planning a big, important event when we are—we are under
attack!
Surely no one will be interested in attending this wedding when they are all in fear for their lives.”

“Nonsense, the god would have to strike them all dead before anyone would miss Gaaron's wedding,” Chloe said, trying another bolt of cloth against Susannah's hair. “Oh, I like that. What do you think?”

“Very rich,” Zibiah agreed. “She could wear scarlet accents with it—a little ribbon around her wrists—”

“Everyone loves Gaaron, you know,” Chloe added, pushing Susannah toward the long mirror set up in the back of
the stall. “Everyone wants to see him settled in place. They want a chance to celebrate with him.”

Susannah stared at the image reflected back, a dark woman with her head wrapped in crimson-shot gold, her face serious, her eyes tired. “Yes, but do they want to see him marry
me
?” she asked in a small voice.

Chloe clouted her on the head with a large roll of lace. “If they know you, they do. Hey, what do you think of this, Zib? Too blond? I like the pattern, though.”

“Buy some for yourself,” the other angel suggested. Talk went that quickly from wedding gowns to day gowns, and Gaaron's name didn't come up again for the rest of the morning.

His name came up again the next day when Esther insisted that she and Susannah discuss the menus for the various meals that had to be planned for the wedding. There would be a light lunch for guests arriving early, a formal dinner following the evening ceremony, and a less formal but still imposing breakfast the next morning. Esther had already taken the trouble to compose some traditional courses, she informed Susannah. If only the angelica would look over the possibilities and indicate which ones she liked the best?

Esther was always tricky. She could be an ally or an enemy, pretty much in the same five-minute space, and learning to handle her had been one of Susannah's first chores upon arriving at the Eyrie. This one was easy, though. “Oh, Esther! I don't have any idea what would be best for a wedding feast!” Susannah exclaimed in dismay. “I know you have too much to do as it is, but—well—what would
you
suggest?”

Esther preened a bit at that. “Well, of course, beef and lamb would be the
proper
dishes to serve, but what with you being an Edori, I didn't know if there were special meats you'd like to have. And my girls and I can cook anything, we just have to have time to prepare.”

“To tell you the truth, I've never eaten anything at an Edori campfire that was half as good as the meals you serve on the most casual days,” Susannah said. “There's nothing special I'd ask for—except that fruit pie. I love that. Is that appropriate for a wedding?”

Esther seemed even more pleased at that compliment. “Not for the wedding, no, but for the luncheon—now, that would be just the right touch to end up the meal. I'll add that to the list here.”

It took another two hours to confirm that every one of Esther's suggestions was perfect and that no bride could expect to have a better chef overseeing her celebratory meals. Kaski, who had accompanied Susannah to this conference, grew bored and began building huts and cottages out of silverware, linen napkins, and a few stray plates. Naturally, one of these unsteady constructions fell to the floor with a loud crash and the sound of shattering china.

“Now—! You troublesome child, haven't I told you before—oh, look at this mess. Not an hour before lunch and I've got this disaster on my hands to clean up—”

“I'll help you,” Susannah offered. “I think only a couple of plates broke—”

Esther was on her knees, picking up the biggest pieces and sweeping the chips into a pile with the edge of her hand. She gave a quick irritated glance at Kaski, standing beside the table with a look of apprehension and contrition on her face. “Honestly. That girl is always into something.”

“It's my fault. I should have given her something to keep her occupied while we were talking.”

“It's not your job to entertain her every hour of the day! And night,” Esther added, for she heartily disapproved of Susannah's habit of sleeping with the Jansai girl. “She'll have to find herself a new bed as soon as you marry Gaaron, and that will be better for everyone, as far as I'm concerned. Let her grow used to the idea now, that she can't have every minute of your time.”

“Esther,” Susannah reproved.

“Well, she can't. Better for you if she
had
gone back with those Jansai when they came to Velora. She belongs with her own people if she's not going to make any effort to fit in here.”

It took Susannah a few more moments to calm Esther down—there was nothing the mortal woman hated so much as disarray—but once the broken plates were cleaned up, Esther rather grudgingly said Kaski was generally a pretty
good girl and it wasn't such a bother to have her around. By that time, however, Kaski was nowhere in sight.

It was true: Susannah did not have to keep Kaski in view every minute of every day. But a vague sense of uneasiness made her hunt for the Jansai girl throughout the Eyrie, checking Kaski's usual hiding places and asking everyone she ran across. “Have you seen Kaski? Sometime within the last twenty minutes . . . the last half hour . . . the last hour . . .”

But she was not there. Increasingly more frantic, Susannah began to suspect that the little girl had found someone to take her down to Velora, though she had never known Kaski to leave the hold on her own before. She ran back to her room to put on a warm jacket and then headed out to the plateau, where a glowering sky and bitter wind promised rain in the near future.

She was in luck: Zibiah and Ahio were just landing, and calling out laughing greetings to each other over the cold wind. Susannah hurried over, waving them closer. “Have you just been to Velora? Did either of you see Kaski down there?” she demanded.

Ahio shook his head. “I've just come from southern Bethel with Gaaron.”

Susannah's mood instantly lightened. “Gaaron's back?”

“Not yet. About an hour behind me.”

“Is Kaski missing?” Zibiah asked.

“I can't find her anywhere. I know she's upset. She heard Esther and me talking and Esther said—well, you know how she is—”