Winter's Child (14 page)

“Help!” I called out. “Help!”

Through the roaring that filled my ears, I thought I heard a voice return my call. The current swept me around a bend. The river was wider and a little slower here. A broad mudbank extended into the water on the right-hand shore. I swam toward it as best I could. My arms felt heavy with cold.

“Good girl. You can do it,” I heard a voice call. I made a final, frantic effort and felt a strong hand reach out to catch hold of my arm. With my other hand, I reached for it with the last of my strength. In the next moment I was on the mudbank, my chest heaving with exertion.

“Gracious, child!” the voice exclaimed. “It’s fortunate I happened to come along. Another few minutes in that water, and you’d have been done for.

“Get up now,” the voice commanded. “You can’t just lie there. You’ll catch your death of cold. You come along home with me. I’ve got a nice fire going. We’ll get you warmed up in no time.”

Slowly, painfully, I got to my feet. I was so chilled my teeth chattered. My whole body felt bruised and sore. Beside me stood a stout old woman, her face as wrinkled as an apple doll’s. She had red cheeks and eyes as bright and dark as a robin’s. There was a blue shawl wrapped around her head, a yellow one around her shoulders, and one of purple tied around her waist. She looked like a rainbow come to life.

“There now. I knew you could do it,” she said. She placed an arm around my back and guided me up the riverbank. “Come along now. Let’s get you home.”

Home,
I thought. Twice now, the old woman had used that word, and suddenly, a great longing for home rose up inside me. A home with Oma sitting at her sewing, with our flowers blooming all around me. A home with a special place that was mine alone, a place where I might rest.

Tired,
I thought.
I am so very tired.

“There now,” the old woman said again, precisely as if she could read my thoughts. We reached the top of the riverbank. “Not much farther now, and you can have everything your little heart desires.”

I stopped for a moment to get my bearings and to catch my breath.

I must have been in the river longer than I realized,
I thought.

The trees were less dense where I now stood. The forest was more open and welcoming. Bright patches of sunlight slanted down through the trees’ branches. In the largest patch of sun sat a cottage. It was painted white and had a thick roof of thatch. A riot of flowers bloomed in front, winding exuberantly along both sides to disappear around the back.

“Oh,” I breathed. “A garden. You have a garden.”

“Indeed, I do,” the old woman replied. “Come along with me. It will feel like yours in no time.”

How good it will be to feel the sun on my back!
I thought.
How wonderful to smell the scent of flowers!
I wondered if
this old woman loved the same kinds that Oma had. Did she have sunflowers?

“My pack!” I suddenly exclaimed. “Where’s my pack? I’ve lost it!”

“Tut,” the old woman said. She clapped her hands, and suddenly we were surrounded by a flock of crows.

“This young lady has lost her pack,” the old woman said. “Please see if you can find it for her.”

The flock of crows flew off at once, their raucous cries loud even over the voice of the river. They wheeled upward, then vanished behind the riverbank. They reappeared almost at once. Each bird held a side of my pack within its beak.

“Be careful, oh please, be careful,” I called out.

But it was already too late. With a sound of ripping cloth, the pack disintegrated. My few belongings tumbled through the air. My cloak spread out upon the breeze like a threadbare ghost. The crows began to caw in a great cacophony of sound.

That was when I saw it. The only memento I still had of home. The packet of sunflower seeds from Oma’s rooftop garden.

“Oma’s seeds!” I cried.

Then, suddenly, the falcon was there, his keen voice cutting across the harsh caws of the crows. Darting among them, as swiftly and accurately as an arrow, the falcon plucked the packet of seeds from the air with his claws.

The crows beset the falcon, shrieking in outrage,
pecking at him with their sharp beaks. The falcon did not let go of his prize. His powerful wings lifted him high into the air, outpacing the wings of the crows. Nevertheless, the black beaks had taken their toll.

The falcon flew straight along the top of the riverbank before turning sharply and disappearing into the forest. The white seed packet was visible in its claws. But so were the black dots spilling to the ground in a fine black rain.

“Oma,” I sobbed as the falcon disappeared from view. “Oma.”

“That’s right, dear,” the old woman said. She began to propel me toward the cottage.

“Have no fear. I’ll be your Oma from now on. Come into the house and take a rest. Don’t you worry about a thing. Granny here can make you forget all your troubles.”

Somewhere inside me a voice protested, saying that this wasn’t what I’d meant at all. I didn’t need a grandmother. I already had one. I didn’t want to forget my troubles, for they were a part of what spurred me on. But my head felt fuzzy, my body ached, and the scent of flowers around the cottage suddenly seemed to rise up around me in a great cloud.

“That’s right,” the old woman coaxed. We reached the front door; she twisted an old brass knob and threw the door open wide. Before me was a room with dried flowers and herbs hanging from its rafters. A cheerful fire burned in a stone fireplace. The scent of something savory cooking in a cast-iron pot wafted
toward the door. It was the most peaceful-looking place that I had ever seen.

“You just come right in.”

With the old woman’s firm hand beneath my elbow for guidance, I stepped across the threshold.

S
EVENTEEN
Story the Ninth

In Which Deirdre Receives an Unexpected Welcome

Home!

How shall I describe what it felt like to see it again? What a powerful combination of joy and sorrow!

The great palace of ice and snow in which I had been born rose from the snowfield, solid yet whimsical somehow. The front gate had been made of iron once upon a time, or so my father always told me. But it had long been completely encased in the ice of the surrounding landscape, rendering it as white as the palace behind it. The gates were stuck open, a fact that had always pleased my father. We were a peaceful people. We had no need to bar our doors.

Behind the gates, the palace rose up like a great wedding cake, tier upon tier of floors, of battlements, of towers. In the very center, at the top of the tallest tower of all, was the room my mother had preferred. As I gazed upward, the sunlight caught the windows,
casting a sparkle of rainbows across the snow. It was from one of those very windows that I had fallen long ago.

“Look.” I suddenly heard Kai’s voice beside me. “I think someone is coming out to meet us.”

I felt the grip of his hand tighten on mine. All through the hours of our flight, Kai’s hand had remained steadily on mine. When at last our feet had touched the earth, he’d swayed a little, like a sailor adjusting to dry land.

We had set down a little ways from the palace. I had wanted to walk toward my home as I once had been required to walk away from it. I tried not to think about the fact that my father would not be waiting there for me. But now, as I watched, a lone figure slowly made its way out of the palace and walked toward the gates.

“I wonder who it is,” I said.

“There’s an easy way to find out,” Kai said with a smile. He took a step forward. I stayed rooted to the spot.

To my dismay and astonishment, my feet, which had carried me through so many foreign lands, abruptly refused to take me any farther. Much as I told myself I wished to, I could not move a muscle. I could not bring myself to take the last few steps, the ones that would truly bring me home.

I’m afraid,
I realized. More afraid than I could remember being before.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t, Kai. It won’t be the same.
I’m
not the same.”

“Well, of course not,” Kai said simply.

I felt a rush of emotion, so foreign that for a moment I could not recognize it.
Gratitude,
I thought. Kai hadn’t argued with me, hadn’t tried to talk me out of what I felt. He’d simply acknowledged the truth of my words.

I was home. But home was now a place that was both familiar and foreign.
Foreign I can do,
I thought. And suddenly my feet began to move forward of their own free will, for they knew how to walk toward the unknown.

Together, Kai and I walked until we stood directly in front of the open gates. When we got there, the individual who’d come out to greet us bowed low.

“My lady,” he said. I gave a start. I’d been so wrapped up in coming home that I’d forgotten the obvious: I was the ruler of this land now. As if to confirm my thoughts, the man before us spoke again.

“Your Majesty, I should say.”

“Thank you,” I said.
Well, that’s going to take some getting used to,
I thought. “I appreciate your welcome. It is most kind.”

Oh, for pity’s sake, Deirdre,
I thought.
Could you sound a little more stuffy?

Slowly, as if my thanks released him from the need to bow, the man straightened up. Only then did I realize how old he was. For several moments, I gazed into his ancient face. He stared back, his eyes intent on mine. They were dark, and they did not seem to have aged. They were still quick and sharp. I felt my own eyes widen in disbelief.

“You look the same, yet not the same, if you will permit me to say so, Highness,” the old man said. “I believe your father would have been proud.”

“Dominic?”
I breathed. “Can it really be you?”

The weathered face broke into a smile. “I am honored that you recognize me,” my father’s steward said. “I always told your father that you would, when the time came.”

“But how is this possible?” I asked. “I mean surely ... I’ve been gone so long ...”

“Not as long as you might think,” Dominic answered. “But no matter. I made your father a promise, many years ago. A promise while he was on his deathbed, though I am sorry to speak of this on your homecoming.”

“What did you swear?” I asked, even as I felt my heart cry out. I had known my father would not be here to greet me, had known it before I set out. But hearing his death spoken of was still painful.

“I swore I would be here to greet you upon your return, so that there might be at least one face in your kingdom that was familiar,” Dominic answered quietly. “I swore I would do this no matter how long your journey took.”

He gestured toward himself. “You see before you the power of this vow.”

“I am glad of its strength,” I said, speaking from my heart. Then, in a move that surprised us both, I stepped forward and threw my arms around him. I felt Dominic enfold me in a surprisingly strong hug.

“You are like your father,” he whispered in my ear. “You inspire love.”

“You are the one who knows best about love,” I replied as tears blurred my eyes. “For surely your presence demonstrates its power.”

I released him and stepped back. “There is someone I would like you to meet,” I said. “Dominic, this is Kai.”

But as I turned toward him, I saw Kai sway on his feet. For the first time I realized that his teeth were chattering and that his lips were all but blue with cold. I, who am never cold, had forgotten the fact that Kai might be, that he must be, and that he no doubt had been cold for many hours. We had flown through the air on the back of the wind. We stood in the land of ice and snow.

“Quickly,” Dominic said. “Let us get him indoors. We will find a way to warm him.”

And so, with Dominic supporting Kai on one side and me on the other, we passed through the gates of the palace and I was finally home.

E
IGHTEEN

My first weeks in the castle passed in one great blur. There were so many new things to learn, now that I was the ruler of my homeland. I spent many hours each day with Dominic. Kai explored the palace on his own. But when Dominic and I were finished working for the day, Kai often joined us. Much to my delight, the two men liked each other at once. Their talents seemed complementary. Kai was always curious, and Dominic was a natural teacher.