The Silver Thread (15 page)

“Oh, so after you guys killed her parents, you had a vampire and your thug friends kidnap her?” she sneered. “You really think that you’re doing her a favor?”

“Those ‘thugs’ are
our
friends and family, Annika. It
is
for her own good, believe it or not,” he said sternly. “We acted in her best interest—you just don’t see it because you’re letting your emotions get in the way. It’s a terrible tragedy that’s happened to her, and as such, the road to her recovery isn’t going to be easy or pleasant. I truly wish the circumstances were different, but they are what they are.”

Annika couldn’t make sense of what he was saying, other than her being too emotional, and him thinking it was right to kidnap orphans. It seemed beyond cruel and unfair. It seemed sick and wrong. The whole misfortune of Denalia’s ruined life made her see her husband in an entirely different light…kind of a shadowy, dingy, and gritty light. She turned away from him, settling on her side.

“I think it would be a good idea if you left me alone for a while,” she said. She knew she should get in a nap before band practice. But there were too many thoughts racing through her mind for her to relax.

“But we still haven’t resolved…you know…that
other
matter,” he reminded her.

“What’s to resolve?” she asked, turning to look at him just long enough to glare at him. “I know you hate kids, and I’m sure as hell not ready for them right now. It’s not like I have to keep it. Besides, after what you did to Denalia’s family, do you really think I would want to have a baby with you?”

Her comment struck Talvi harder than he was prepared for. His eyes stung, and his stomach felt like someone had punched him just enough to knock the wind out of him. It took him a few moments to regain his composure.

“I would do it all over again, if I were faced with the same decisions,” he said quietly as he stood up to leave. “I thought you knew me well enough to know that I would never want anyone, especially my own children, to live in a world overrun with evil.”

“Sariel, keep up with us! We must get to the forest before the storm hits!” bellowed a huge man through the wind. Snow was blowing all around her, whipping loose strands of her long dark hair into her frozen face.

“I am well aware, Justinian!” she growled back to the knight, struggling with the weight of her own frosty sword and ice-laden cloak. Sariel had the spirit and tenacity of a lioness, but those qualities seemed to have left her when she needed them the most. Her boots felt like they were made of lead, not fur-lined leather, and her lithe body felt like a cumbersome weight she was barely in control of. She found herself exhausted as soon as she had risen that morning, just as she had been for the past few weeks. It had been decades since she had ever traveled in such harsh and physically demanding conditions. As far as she was concerned, the storm had already been hitting them for the past hour, and the only reason she didn’t let herself sink into the snow was because the tree line was perhaps only another half hour away. As soon as they were safe within the forest, out of the wind, she could finally sleep. Oh, there was nothing in the world she wanted more now than to curl up in her blankets and close her eyes. And when they woke up, they would pass through the forest, and cross to the other side of the mountain range, where the spring weather would greet them. It wouldn’t be more than another two weeks travel.

Right now, they were up to their knees in frozen white foothills, with a range of mountains rising up behind them in the near distance. Thank goodness the heavy cargo they had been carrying was finally disposed of, piece by piece along the way. They had left the objects at various locations; one tumbled down a cliff and into a streambed, one was thrown over a waterfall, and one was dropped into the center of a frozen lake. It was too cold to bury them in the solid ground, and even though they were made of pure gold and encrusted with precious stones, there wasn’t a metal smith in the world that Sariel would dare take them to. It had been sworn upon that something so foolish and dangerous would never happen. Death first.

She rolled her pale blue eyes as she felt another growl in her stomach. They had only eaten a few hours ago, but then, it was hard work to walk through the snowdrifts when her legs were so much shorter than her companions. Her hunger had never been so insatiable as it was lately. She allowed herself permission to dig through her satchel and find a half-frozen chunk of cake-bread. It would do, but it wouldn’t alleviate the unusual twinge below her stomach. No matter how much she ate, it never went away. One day it wasn’t there, and then one day it was, and it never went away. It wasn’t unpleasant; sometimes it felt as if she was about to start her cycle. But after nine-hundred years, she knew her body, and this was different.

She gnawed on her cold snack, watching herself fall farther behind Justinian, but she didn’t care. She turned to her side and looked up at an unarmed and blindfolded young woman, who had the luxury of riding the only horse in the group. Even though she sat like a princess, bundled up in her white furs, both of her hands were bound with thick hemp rope. It seemed an absurd measure for a fifteen-year-old girl, but this was no ordinary girl. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words in the past week, no matter how hard Sariel tried to crack her shell and get through to her. She seemed to be praying every time Sariel looked at her; bound hands clasped and her lips constantly chanting the same foreign words over and over under her breath. It bothered Sariel, wondering what the girl was thinking in that twisted mind of hers. It bothered her that a child should be brainwashed from birth to go against her very human nature to feel love and compassion for others. It bothered her that she could see no positive outcome for this girl, even though she wanted desperately to maintain some sliver of hope that Denalia could reclaim a normal life. She daydreamed of reforming the girl, of teaching her respect for nature and all living things, rather than manipulating the world they lived in. She imagined all the power that the girl possessed, being used for good instead of evil, but it didn’t look very promising.

The three of them were followed closely by another figure, and even in the blinding white snow he still managed to appear shadowy. His entire body was completely covered in dark wool clothing, even his face and his fingertips were shrouded from the sun. Sariel wondered if vampires felt the cold the same way she did…if they could get hypothermia and frostbite just like she could.

“Sariel, you are a samodiva, are you not?” Denalia asked from her horse. It was possibly the first question she had asked in a week.

“I am,” she replied.

“Is it true that when a samodiva marries a man, you become human like him so you can be his wife and bear his children?”

“Yes,” Sariel answered, looking up at the blindfolded girl. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you are human now,” Denalia said. It wasn’t really a question or an opinion as much as she seemed to be stating a fact. Sariel smiled a little, glad that the girl was finally opening up to her.

“But I am not any man’s wife,” she explained, trying to hasten her way to the trees.

“You are Justinian’s wife, even if you are not formally hand fasted to one another,” Denalia said simply, with little emotion in her voice. Rather than be annoyed at her, Sariel instead felt a warmth inside that chased away some of the cold in her fingers and toes. Then the warmth burned enough that it became another growl in her stomach. She assured herself that dinner was not far away now.

“What makes you think that?” Sariel asked, walking a little closer to Denalia.

“Even though I can’t see, I can hear what goes on between you two when you believe I’m asleep. You’re not as strong as you used to be, either. It’s because you’re a human now, carrying his human child,” said Denalia.

Sariel stopped in her tracks, taken aback by her words, but before she could say anything there was a sharp pain in her chest, and she knelt down to catch her breath. The darker figure rushed over to her side, but Justinian was too far ahead to notice, and it was too windy for him to hear anything.

“I’m alright, Pavlo,” she said, wincing a little from heartburn. “It’s normal.”

“It doesn’t look normal.” The vampire said as he peered through the dark veil that protected his face and knelt down beside her. She scooped up a little snow and brought it to her mouth, hoping it would soothe the burning sensation.

“You don’t spend a lot of time in the company of pregnant women, do you?” she replied, and swallowed another mouthful of snow. She looked up at Pavlo. All she could see of him were his perpetually sleepy, sympathetic, hazel eyes. He shook his covered head and blinked slowly, and she imagined that he was likely smiling just as serenely under his veil.

“Denalia, how long have you known this?” Sariel asked from the ground. There was no reply. She and Pavlo looked up to see a horse with no rider.

“Justinian! She’s gone!”

Panicked now, Sariel and Pavlo searched through the snow frantically, hoping to make out Denalia’s tracks in the drifts, but there weren’t any. She couldn’t have gone far, and to do so in these white-out conditions alone, with her hands tied up would be suicidal. They called out her name, to no avail, and there they were, left behind, fumbling in the deep powder for an escapee who left no tracks, only a single, tawny feather.

Talvi came down to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea. He set the kettle on the stove and cranked the heat to high. Other than the sound of the gas flame igniting, the rest of the creaky old house was silent. James and Chivanni had gone to the gallery, and Charlie was shut away in his room. The only thing making noise was the occasional car driving past the house through the wet street. Talvi wandered from the kitchen into the living room, taking a look around at the patches of crumbling plaster, the water stains on the ceiling indicating the need for a new roof, and the stone fireplace that looked like no one had used it in about a decade, except as a place to burn bad memories.

If
only
Annika
’s heart could be mended as easily as this plaster wall
… he thought, picking at one of the damaged spots. White dust crumbled onto the wooden floor below. He wanted to make things better, but he also knew he couldn’t force Annika to confront her problems. It didn’t matter when or how he brought them up, if she wasn’t ready to deal with them. He had perhaps pushed too far, too soon, and adding parenthood to the mix of emotions had certainly not helped. It bothered him that he honestly couldn’t tell what was going on with Annika. He had always been able to read her mind fairly well, but ever since their wedding ceremony, he felt like he was receiving a series of jumbled thoughts. Perhaps it was also the amulet she now wore, which served to help cloak her mind. Regardless of what it was, it was working…too well for his liking.

The whistle on the kettle sounded, and Talvi poured himself a cup of tea and added just a hint of honey and lemon, before returning to the living room. He sipped in silence, wandering from room to room, inspecting the place. It was far easier to distract himself with the shortcomings of this house than it was to think about the ones in his relationship. And it was far more complicated to imagine where he was supposed to live with his new wife, and perhaps a new family. Annika didn’t belong on Eritähti, as much as she had grown to care for her friends there, and he didn’t belong in the modern world, as much as he loved his extended visits. No matter where they lived, they would be out of place.

Talvi sat down on the sofa, staring at the television, which was turned off. He had only just arrived in America, and already it was turning upside down on him. Part of him wanted to be back home, back to his ancient mountains and steadfast rivers. Back to his favorite pub, where the bartenders kept pouring beer in his mug as long as he kept pouring out entertaining stories. He could go back to being almost as free as a summer breeze. But that was not his style, to run from problems. He liked to meet them head-on, but his way usually involved his bow, his blade, his fists, or his charm. Being diplomatic was more of his father’s or Finn’s area of expertise.

The door to Charlie’s room swung open and out he strolled, slowing down as he realized Talvi was staring at a blank television screen.

“Um, do you want me to show you how to work the television?” he asked.

“I wasn’t really interested in watching a program at the moment.”

“Do you mind if I play a game then?” Charlie asked, and plopped down on the couch next to Talvi.

“Have at it.” Talvi watched as Charlie aimed one remote at the television, and then picked up a game controller.

“You might like this one,” Charlie said, as the word FIFA flashed onto the television screen. “I’ll even be the Blackburn Rovers so you can have your precious Manchester.” He passed a second controller over to Talvi and proceeded to school his new brother-in-law at video soccer.

As Talvi learned the ropes on scoring virtual goals, he also learned that Charlie had decided to go into sustainable agriculture about halfway through earning a degree in history. They talked about small farming practices and what would be planted next at the organic farm where Charlie worked, and what would likely be planted in the gardens back at Talvi’s house. Though it was still difficult for him to wrap his head around Talvi’s age, the history buff in Charlie listened with awe as he described in great detail what it was like to be born right as the Industrial Revolution was beginning to grip Western Europe. Talvi explained how, during his family’s visits, he watched firsthand as it carved up the English landscape that he loved so much. It wasn’t only humans who had been affected by the changes. He spoke about entire fairy glens that were wiped out by pesticide applications, countless pixie dwellings that were destroyed by the changes in agriculture, great owls whose trees were cut down after living in them since time began, along with displacing the other creatures of the forests and meadows and moors. Endless numbers of his family’s friends had dispersed and scattered, many never to be seen again.

He shared with Charlie what he thought of the great cities he had visited; Paris, London, Rome, Cairo, Tokyo…there was so much art and culture to be enjoyed, but the land was chewed up and stained black by the rampant use of fossil fuels, and trees were no longer the sacred beings that they used to be. They were mowed down to make room for concrete and glass structures. Animals were penned up in their own waste, fattened on grain and then slaughtered, at a much higher tax on mother nature than it cost to grow vegetables to feed a hundred times as many people. And what for? For feeding the endless ocean of hungry mouths, for clothing and housing the people that did not get thrown in the dumpster. Talvi had seen an article about that in a newspaper at the airport, and never was so grateful that Chivanni couldn’t read English.

“That’s what prevented your sister from coming home for so long,” Talvi explained. “There’s a movement rising back in my world, one that would like to sever all connection between Earth and Eritähti, because of all these reasons you humans keep giving them.”

“You should come to work with me sometime; maybe even on Monday,” Charlie said during a pause in the game, and turned to Talvi. “We’re not all like that, you now. There’s a lot of us mere mortals working pretty hard to change the way things are.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but what about your orders to take Annika to be examined by her former flame? I think I should be present for that.”

Charlie smirked to himself.

“You don’t need to worry about Danny. He’s not a douchebag. The whole thing will take five minutes. She can swing by on her way to work. This leaves you free to spend a day on the farm with me.”