Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) (2 page)

“No.” Her voice caught in her throat. “But it scares me spitless to think it could happen. I’m guessin’ Gertie Pinecrest can tell me one way or the other if I’m going mad.”

“You’re not goin’ mad.” His frustration sounded clearly in his growl. “Why Gertie Pinecrest? You never met the woman. How can you be so sure?”

Tanyth shrugged. “I don’t know, Frank. I can’t be sure. I’m not sure. But she’s the only answer I got at the moment. Could be I’ll get up there and I can’t find her. Or she won’t teach me. Or she’ll tell me I’m really—” Tanyth’s voice cut off. The sudden emotion of it squeezing her throat shut.

“You’re not crazy,” Frank said, his voice firm and his arm hugging her to his side in an oddly reassuring gesture.

Another voice spoke up, startling them both. “You’re not crazy, mum. I know it.” Rebecca stood at the corner of the hut, her eyes downcast and her fingers twisting together like small animals in a nest.

“Rebecca! You gave me such a start,” Tanyth said, hand to her chest and willing her heartbeat to settle down.

“Oh, sorry, mum.” She gave a small, contrite smile. “And good mornin’, Frank.”

“Morning, Becca.”

“It’s all right,” Tanyth said. “Just took me by surprise.”

Rebecca nodded. “Sorry. I just wanted to ask...” Her voice petered out.

“Ask what, my dear?” Tanyth asked, shooting a curiosity-laden glance at Frank who only shrugged in return.

“Mum? You’re leavin’ when the shipment goes?”

Tanyth blinked at the apparent non sequitur and gave a little nod. “Yes. When Frank takes the first load.”

“Take me with you, mum.”

Tanyth shared another glance with Frank. “Take you with me? To Kleesport?” she asked.

“No,” Rebecca said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Well, yes, but beyond. To see Mother Pinecrest.”

Tanyth cocked her head to one side and regarded the younger woman. “You want ta see Gertie Pinecrest? Why?”

Rebecca shuffled her feet in the damp grass and looked at her writhing hands. “Well, mum, it’s not so much to see Mother Pinecrest, mum...” Her voice trailed off.

“Are ya tired of livin’ in Ravenwood then?” Frank prompted.

Rebecca frowned at that and shot him a look of apology. “Not exactly, but maybe a bit.”

“Then what is it?” Tanyth asked.

Rebecca shrugged. “I’d like to travel with you, mum. Go where you go. See what you see.”

Tanyth shuddered at the image of black wingtips where fingers should be and had to blink back the spike of fear. “What makes you say that?” she asked.

The morning sun tipped over the tree line to the east and flooded the village with golden morning light. Tanyth turned to bask in the warmth for a moment, letting Rebecca gather her thoughts. When the younger woman didn’t respond, she said, “It’s likely to be dangerous, my dear. And I don’t know if Mother Pinecrest will take me on. We could get all the way up there and have to come back.”

She felt Frank stiffen and looked up to see him gazing down at her, hope in his eyes.

“Would you come back?” he asked.

“Might have to.” She smiled at him and reached over to pat his chest. “But don’t plan on it.”

She saw the light fade as he looked away and nodded his understanding.

“More dangerous than Andy Birchwood and his boys trying to burn us out, kill us in our beds?” Rebecca asked, her voice almost lost in the morning breeze.

Tanyth shifted her weight and rubbed fingertips over her lips as if to wipe away a bad taste. “Possibly,” she said at last, “but mostly long days, cold nights, and not knowing where we’re going or what we’re doing.” She paused and considered the young woman for a moment. “Why do you want to go?”

“Well, mum, you’re going off somewhere special and there’s nothing here for me.” The younger woman raised her head and jutted her chin out in the direction of the inn. “I can wait tables, and help out in the inn, sure, but it’s not something I wanna spend my life doin’.”

Tanyth looked to the hulking building just as Sadie came out with a straw broom and began sweeping down the porch and steps, clearing away the tracked in dirt from a long night and morning of traffic. The scritch-swish sound of the straw on the rough boards sounded much closer than it was.

Tanyth lowered her voice a bit. “What do you want, my dear?”

Rebecca sighed and shrugged, pulling her hands away from each other as if to force them to be still. “I don’t really know, mum.” A cawing from the ridgepole of the inn’s roof nearly drowned her voice.

All eyes went to the heavy, black bird. She cawed once more before launching herself into the warming air and with three powerful pumps of black wings glided into the shadowed forest behind the inn.

“It’s just that, well, mum, when we came out here there was a lot of people. It was an adventure, you know?” Her eyes went from Tanyth’s face to Frank’s and back again. “People my own age all startin’ out to leave the city behind and start fresh.”

Tanyth smiled and nodded. “And now...?”

“Well, almost everybody left now is married or claimed—” Rebecca’s glance went to Frank, before looking down once more, “—or otherwise occupied.”

“Too old?” Frank asked.

She shot him a smile that held equal parts chagrin and agreement.

“Lot of the quarrymen are still single,” Frank said. “Karl, Matt? Good men.”

Rebecca shifted her weight from side to side, and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, but Karl and Matt think of me as their little sister. Richard is too old and David’s too young.”

“He’s two winters older than you are,” Frank said.

Rebecca shot him a venomous look from under her eyebrows. “You know that’s not what I mean,” she muttered.

He uttered a single laugh, and said, “Yup, I know.”

“So, you think this is another adventure then?” Tanyth asked.

“Well, in a way, yes, mum, but not really.” Rebecca took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose, turning her head to scan the village and surrounding forest. “When we came out here, I thought perhaps, I’d find a husband, start a family of my own. It might have happened. It could have. But it never did, you know?” She looked in Tanyth’s eyes.

“Oh, yes, my dear, I know.” Tanyth shot a sideways glance at Frank.

Rebecca saw the look and blushed. “Yes, well, I’ve been thinkin’ about it for awhile. Then this fall and winter with you here, mum. And Birchwood came and I was so scared, but you were here and everything was all right.”

“I was scared, too,” Tanyth said, breaking in on the flow.

“Yes, mum, I s’pose we all were, but you helped us anyway.” Rebecca’s head came up and she gazed directly at Tanyth. “You stood up and helped us. Even after you got cut up and we all took turns tendin’ you. You got better and kept going, kept pushing forward, mum. Even when you thought you were goin’ mad, mum. Even after that horrible man—” Her voice broke.

“Josh, my dear. He had a name. Josh,” Tanyth said. The words sounded rough to Tanyth’s own ears.

“Even so, mum. He kidnapped you and dragged you out into the wood. And you got away. And you—well, you got away. You’re strong. You’re movin’ on. I—I—” Rebecca’s fingers had found each other again and took one last writhing twist before she pulled them apart, holding her hands at her sides. “I want to go with you, mum. To see what happens next.” Her voice fell, almost to a whisper. “To maybe find something of my own.”

Tanyth regarded the younger woman for several heartbeats, before glancing up at Frank, who merely shrugged. Tanyth turned back to meet Rebecca’s eyes. “Give me a day to think about it.”

“I can be helpful, mum. I’ve been learning stuff from Thomas about woods craft and such.” Rebecca’s eager voice trailed off as Tanyth held up a hand.

“I’m sure you can, my dear, but this is more about me than you. I’m used to travelin’ by myself. It’s sometimes dangerous and frightenin’. I don’t now how I feel about leadin’ somebody else into that.”

Frank took a breath as if to say something but when Tanyth looked up at him, he merely coughed into his hand and reached for his handkerchief.

“I understand, mum.”

Tanyth smiled at her. “Thank you, my dear. Just give me ‘til tomorrow. Come see me in the morning.”

Rebecca’s face brightened. “Thank you, mum.”

“No promises!” Tanyth cut in. “I need to think about it.”

Rebecca nodded several times. “O’ course, mum. I understand. I do. But you didn’t say no, yet. That’s somethin’.”

Tanyth huffed a laugh out and nodded her agreement. “True. Now, scoot.”

Rebecca smiled and nodded to Frank one more time before scampering off toward the inn.

Tanyth watched the young woman go before glancing up to see Frank looking down at her. Something in his expression made her frown at him. “What is it?”

“You’re gonna to let her go with ya?” he asked, looking at Rebecca’s retreating back.

Tanyth gave a non-committal shrug. “I really don’t know,” she said. “Honestly, I’ve been travelin’ on my own so long, I wouldn’t know what to do with her.”

She felt Frank stiffen slightly.

“Is that why you won’t stay here?” He didn’t look down at her, just continued gazing off into the village.

“Stay with you, you mean?” Tanyth said, poking him in the ribs with one sharp finger.

He looked down and gave her an abashed-looking smile. “Yeah. Well, with me and the rest of the people here.” He paused, his eyes searching her face for something. “You’ve a home here, you know. Yours for the takin’.”

She laid one hand against his weathered face and caught his wandering gaze in hers. “You know I can’t do that.” Her voice was barely louder than the winds whispering in the pine tops behind the cabin.

He lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment. “I know what you say, Tanyth, but I still don’t believe it. You’re not goin’ crazy.”

She huffed out a single bark of laughter.

“You’re not,” he insisted.

“Frank, normal people do not see things through ravens’ eyes. It’s just not natural.” She withdrew her hand and scrubbed her lips again with her fingertips. “When I woke up this morning and couldn’t pucker to blow on the fire because I had a beak—” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to rid herself of the memory.

“But that was a dream, Tan. You and I both know that.”

“Nightmare, more like.”

“Exactly, and you woke up.”

She scoffed.

“You did. You woke up and it was just a dream,” he said.

“What if I hadn’t? What if it wasn’t?” Her eyes searched his craggy face in turn. “What if it was a warnin’?”

“Warnin’? Warnin’ of what?” He sounded curious and a bit frustrated.

She sighed and folded her arms under her breasts as if hugging herself for warmth. Her eyes scanned the now familiar landscape of the village, stopping here and there with no apparent reason. Finally she turned her gaze back to his. “If I knew that, Frank Crane, I wouldn’t have to go now, would I?”

Frank drew a deep breath and blew it out before screwing his mouth into a grimace. “No,” he said. “I don’t suppose you would.”

The sound of a horse’s whinny wafted on the morning breeze. “Sounds like I’m needed at the barn,” Frank said, glancing down at her once more. “And prob’ly just as well.”

He took three steps before she asked, “What do you mean by that?”

He gave her a devilish grin over his shoulder but didn’t stop walking. “Anytime a woman uses a man’s full name, it’s time he finds a place to hide. The barn’ll do for now.”

Under other circumstances the comment might have earned him a sour look, but Tanyth saw the twinkle in his eye and a chuckle bubbled out of her.

Frank gave her a wink and a nod and his long legs soon carried him out of sight around the inn.

She stood there for a few more moments, her fingers seeking her lips once again. Somewhere in the forest a squirrel chittered and drew her gaze in the direction of the noise.

“You’re a foolish, old woman,” she muttered to herself, but her fingertips continued to reassure her that her lips were still lips, that her fingers were flesh and blood, not feathers. “Foolish,” she repeated before rousing herself to go back into the hut.

She slipped the latch and ducked her head as she’d done a hundred times. The lintels on the doors were low and she had to step down three steps to enter the cozy hut. She’d managed to get in and out of that very door untold numbers of times all winter long. Yet she clipped her head on the top of the door and the bright pain pushed her off-balance. Her foot missed the first step, heel catching on the second as she pitched forward into the room, empty teacup flying, holding out her arms to break her fall.

The dry twig snap of her forearm seemed loud in the quiet room before the sharp pain blossomed.

She lay there on the woven grass mat of the floor, cradling her arm, and cursing herself silently until the pain made her pant the words aloud. “Foolish. Old. Woman.”

Chapter Two:
Winged

The next couple of hours passed in a fog of pain. Broken bones were common enough in the village. The quarrymen managed to break at least one bone a year among them and rambunctious children fell out of their share of trees. When Tanyth showed up at the inn cradling her left arm, Sadie and Amber plopped her into a chair and had the bone set, splinted, and nearly wrapped almost before the three swallows of rum burned down to her belly.