Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) (21 page)

“
Sabah?”
Berg gasps, a glass shattering at his feet. The Mistress is staring at me, her eyes wide, almost afraid.

I smile, and see her flinch. Something puzzled fills Berg’s eyes, but I ignore it for now. How different do I seem to them? “Cook thought I should let you know I’m back. I was going to wait until dinner, but she thought right away was best,” I say, nonchalantly, leaning against the door.

There is a moment of heavy silence, and then, “Where have you been?” Berg asks, his voice choked.

I shrug, choking down the anger that’s filling me. It is easier, far easier, to let myself be angry, than to face the pain. “Away,” I say. I straighten, and smile tightly. Berg pales. “I’ll let you get back to,” I wave a hand, vaguely, “that. I’m going to shower and dress.”

“Sabah, wait,” Berg says, stepping forward. Glass crunches under his feet, and I glance at him, over my shoulder.

“Why?” I ask, all warmth leeched from my voice. There is a long silence, and he looks to the Mistress, almost pleading.

I laugh, a disgusted noise, and leave.

**

When I step out of the shower cube, there is a towel and one of my dresses sitting on the counter, waiting for me. I dry myself, slipping into the dress and rubbing my hair vigorously. I wonder who thought to bring them. Word will have spread through the house—but Cook will bully the younger children into obedience, and I will be able to avoid most of their questions—for now. As I brush my hair, thrilling in the sensation of it, a thin strip of white catches my attention.

For the first time, I look at my wrist.

The braid seems elaborate at first, twisting and turning in a way that defies the eye to follow. I bring it closer to my face, and the smell—wild, earthy, a hint of pine—hits me, hard. Tears blur my vision, and I roll my eyes, blinking rapidly, forcing the tears down.

It is a supple bracelet of tiny braids, woven together. Pristine white and— finally— I understand what it is.

A lock of Arjun’s hair, long and silky soft.

My memento. I sigh, a smile turning my lips. It is small and insignificant, and so pale it fades against my skin. Something forever in plain sight, marking me as his, but so easy to dismiss it is almost laughable.

I wonder how long it will take Berg to notice.

That makes me smirk and I pick up my clothes, rolling them into my damp towel before I leave the lavatory.

I can hear the hush of voices, low but excited, as I walk through the halls. Kaida’s voice is high and piercing, and healthy, “She’s back, Guin.”

“But Berg said she’s to be left alone.” The little boy’s voice is serious and solemn.

I hear a sniff, and grin. Kaida seems to be developing a bit of an attitude. “Berg can’t be pulled from his books long enough to pay attention to the weather—he won’t even notice if we talk to her.”

A grunt of approval—from Cedric, probably. “Don’t you want to see her?” Kaida’s voice is lower now, wheedling, and Guin sighs, defeated. A low chuckle comes from Cedric, and I push open the door to the boys’ bedroom. Kaida is seated on Cedric’s bed, nestled against Guin, her head resting on his shoulder. Cedric stands a few steps away, watching with bright gray eyes.

Kaida’s eyes find me first, and she lets out an excited squeal—and that fast, my worry is gone. She throws herself at me, a force so unstoppable I gasp as I catch her, and we spin, the momentum of her weight making me stumble. She is making a soft noise, almost a purr of pleasure. I shush her. “I’m here, sweet. I’m here.”

She pulls away to look at me reproachfully. “You missed my birthday.”

I feel a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry, darling. It’s a long story.” All of them perk at that—they love stories. I smile, affectionately. “But you need to go down to dinner first.”

Kaida glances at the boys, and gives a small twitch of her head. Cedric straightens, and extends a hand to pull Guin to his feet. Without looking back, they exit the room, leaving me alone with Kaida.

She looks healthy—her movements are loose, free. Her ribs seem to have healed, her hair longer.

But what startles me is not the healthy sheen to her hair, or the way she moves—it is the glint of knowledge in her eyes, and the way she was with Cedric and Guin. Something has changed, in the past month that I have been away. She's matured, in ways that I cannot pinpoint. I want to blame it on her brush with the Falls, but I know better—she has changed in my absence.

"Where have you been?" she asks, and her voice is older than her years.

A sigh slips from me—innocence and maturity in one tiny package will be a challenge in the Manor.

"Away. I... I can't tell you all of it," I say, honestly.

Her eyes narrow, and her small head tilts. "It's changed you, though."

I nod and she sighs, hugging me tightly. "I've missed you," she whispers, sounding for all the world like a child.

Arjun, waiting in the darkness and the mist, fills my mind. Tears fill my eyes, and I kiss her hair. "I missed you, too."

**

We enter the kitchen together, and I nudge Kaida to her seat between Cedric and Guin. The other girls are watching me as I make my way to my seat at the Mistress' left. I can't help but note Alba's bitter look, and I wonder if she had thought to take my place. I wonder what she would do if I told her how gladly I would give it to her.

For the first time, being a favorite of the Mistress and lover of Berg is not something I want. I
want
to flee back Outside, to the wild. I remind myself that Arjun does not want me, and take an unsteady breath, going to my chair. I’m surprised that I am not shaking.

"Sabah." Mistress' voice is soft, but carries—the kitchen is utterly silent, waiting for an explanation I don’t want to give. I knew this was coming, had even prepared for it somewhat—there is no way to tell the whole truth. But part of it will do—and the pack is safe now, safe enough that speaking of them will not hurt them, in the end.

"Can we eat, please? I'll tell my story while we eat," I say. Breakfast seems like so long ago, a distant, painful memory.

Mistress stares at me, her eyes cool, but finally nods. Cook scurries to the table, ladling out a dish of stew for the Mistress. She pushes the rest in my direction, and begins to slice thick bread. I can smell fish baking somewhere, and I lick my lips as she hurries back to the stove and returns with a plate laden with flaky white fish cooked in an herb and oil sauce. She plunks it down in front of me and sniffs. "Eat, girlie."

I can feel all their eyes on me, but after a month of scrutiny by the pack, I am used to being watched. I ignore them and concentrate on my food. I get down four bites before I’m interrupted.

"Sabah?" Berg's voice is strained, full of pleading and curiosity.

I glance up at him from under my lashes, and take another bite of buttered bread. I do not realize how much I have missed bread until I feel its warmth and texture. The pack did not have bread.

"Do you remember," I ask, after swallowing, "that last day I was here?"

Across from me, Berg stiffens, his eyes darting from me to the Mistress involuntarily. For the first time, I look at her.
Really
look.

She is leaning back in her chair, gray eyes watching me with shrewd intelligence, her rusty red hair piled in a bun. Curling tendrils have escaped, and cascade down either side of her face to frame it. A small smile plays on full red lips. It occurs to me, for the first time, that she is really quite beautiful.

"The Rover was here," I say, and feel the tension slide out of Berg.

She says nothing, waiting.

"I suppose I was a bit overwhelmed—by everything." My eyes flick to Berg. "Hawke, the City. All of it. I went for a walk, and got lost."

Berg sits forward, disbelief filling his eyes. "Where were you? I looked--all I found was a tigercat’s tracks."

I nod, thinking back to that dark, terrifying night. I haven't considered it in all the time I have been with the pack.

"I found a forest, and got lost," I say, looking down at my food. "A bear found me. I don't know why it wasn't hibernating, but it wasn't. The pack rescued me."

There is a gasp, from Lilith. Berg's hands have clenched into fists, and he is furious, unable to contain it, when he demands, "You were with that ban-wolf for the past month?"

I stop, looking at him, and my anger breaks free of my careful control. "Do you really think you have the right to ask me
anything
?"

He flinches, and Kaida makes a noise, soft and shocked. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes, struggling to regain control. Force myself to answer. "Yes. I was with ban-wolves for the past month. For the first two weeks, I was in a fever--the bear mauled me and it took them time to draw out the infection and poison."

"What were they like?" Mistress asks, and despite the steadiness of her voice, I can almost feel the excitement trembling in it.

I shrug, a smile playing on my lips. "Unexpected."

Tears threaten, as I think about Arjun, the love in his eyes. Of Merc with his lazy honesty. Sweet Gali and Jade, and Rook, with his incessant questions and ruthless practicality.

Those thoughts aren’t helping, not right now. I shove them aside, and add, "But kind. They nursed me back to health. Saved my life."

Berg shoves his chair back so violently it clatters over. Alba is watching him, her eyes hot and possessive. A month ago, that look would have infuriated me. Tonight, I can’t work up the energy to care at all.

"What did they want?" he demands.

I tilt my head, peering at him from under my hair. "What makes you think they
want
anything? For all you know, I could have been kept in a den without any contact with them for a month." I smile, a sharp edged smile. "Unless, of course, you know something you haven't shared with us."

Berg is staring at me, such a bewildered look on his face it tugs at me, unexpectedly. I am angry, true, but do I want to hurt him? I bite my lip, and look back at my plate, inexplicably guilty.

Silence follows my outburst—no one knows how to deal with Berg and I arguing. I have always taken pains to hide that from the children.

“Perhaps, Sabah,” Mistress says, slowly, “you could join me for lunch tomorrow. And we will discuss your time away from the Manor.”

I look at her, and she smiles at me. A month ago, the smile would make me nervous, almost scared—or desperate to please her.

Now, it annoys me. But this will provide the opportunity I need to help the pack.

So I force a meek smile, drop my eyes, and nod.

When dinner is over, I leave Dayila in the kitchen, cleaning with Kaida, Guin, and Cedric. Alba and Lilith are in the hallway, waiting—I have a moment to wonder where Spiro has gone, and then Alba steps into my path. She is tense, and angry. “You just
had
to come back. He grieved you, and
now
you come back,” she almost spits.

Lilith puts a hand on the other girl’s arm, and I sigh, crossing my arms. Alba has always been the most difficult of the girls, the most ambitious and jealous.

“You want Berg?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

Her eyes narrow, but she’s gutsy enough to nod. I feel a surge of pride for her. “If you think you can take him, by all means, try.”

Her mouth falls open, stunned, as I sweep past them.

I know he won’t be in the library—it is too obvious a choice. The children will be there, and neither of us want them listening to this. I climb upstairs to the high garret that has always been my retreat.

He’s sitting in the window, arms wrapped around his legs. The pose tugs at me—it is heartbreakingly vulnerable, and reminds me, forcefully, of the history that stretches between us. I have seen him like this, so often in the past, when something is bothering him.

I look past him, into the misty darkness. The pine tree is a black shadow against the City lights. I wonder where Arjun is. Has Merc given him a distraction? Are they warm? Panic clutches me, as I remember the tigercat that had dogged my footsteps that last night at the Manor--can two ban-wolves take on a tigercat?

"I don't understand any of this,” he says, and my eyes jerk back to Berg. His voice is bewildered, confused. Broken. It grounds me, makes me focus on the present--Arjun and Merc will remain safe, and I can help them best by doing my job.

And, too, this is my life. If I am to stay here, I should repair what relationships I can.

"Berg," I say, my voice a sigh. He looks at me, sky-dark eyes confused. "They aren't as awful as we think."

Shock fills his eyes and I know I have said the wrong thing. He jerks to his feet, and tugs his shirt off with a grace I have forgotten. I wince at the sight of his scars--long, curving slashes that flow in knotty lines from his neck down to the base of his back. I can remember, vividly, the night he got them. I went searching for him when he did not return from a hunt. I found him facedown in the snow, unconscious, bleeding out No one expected Berg to survive. It had even affected the Mistress—drawn her from her quarters to the sick room where Gwen worked like mad to patch him back together and force him to live.

And though he survived, he was different after the attack. I stare at the scars now, and can so easily picture the claws that inflicted such vicious damage. But I've seen those same claws used gently, with cautious care. Felt them soft and loving.

"What did they do to you, out there?" he asks, his voice low.

I stare at him. "They saved my life, Berg. What do you think they did?"

He laughs, a harsh noise that shocks me. I have never heard such a bitter noise from Berg--it sounds so similar to the anger that sometimes fills Arjun, it is eerie and I suppress a shiver. "Ban-wolves are the dregs of society, Sabah. They're the refuse--and that does not speak well of their manners."

His judgment makes me angry, and I arch my eyebrows. "And you would know this because you've spent so much time talking with them? Or is it because you've been there, when one is changed?"

The words fall between us like glass, shattering at our feet as we both freeze, both unwilling to move, both unwilling to draw first blood on that accusation.