Transitions Page 11

“And if I reject your proposition?”

  “Then I shall resign as Guild Captain.”

  Hanley’s mouth curled upward. “And what makes you think I need you?”

  “I know that you do not.” Skylar allowed a small smile of his own. “My decision has nothing to do with your need of me, however that may be defined.”

  “And if your resignation demands that you leave New Eden Township?”

  Skylar swallowed. “Then so be it.”

  “A man of principles.” Hanley smiled and dipped his head in appreciation. “This is why I made you Captain of the Techsmith Guild four years ago. Once you make a decision, you stay the course.” Skylar remained silent. “So you want to try your hand at being the Hero of the People instead of the Son of a Killer?” Skylar flinched. “Fine. We’ll give your proposition a try.”

  “Those who complete training will receive occupation as an engineer within the lab’s property?” Skylar asked.

  “As you say, if you were a real colony on Mars, these positions within the township would be necessary for survival.” Hanley leaned back against his chair again and crossed a leg over his knee. “Give the people what they want.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Skylar dipped his eyes in substitute for a bow, per protocol when using a Cranium.

  “Skylar?” A voice said from his doorway. His eyes shifted to the side and he squinted until he made out Gale-Anne’s form. “Do you never sleep? What are ... oh my.” His sister’s mouth slackened as she stared at the holographic video feed.

  “Company?” Hanley asked with a sly look.

  Skylar felt his face heat with the insinuation. “My sister, sir.” Gale-Anne slowly approached his cot, her eyes fixed to the bright screen. She sucked in a sharp breath upon recognizing Hanley.

  “Are you finished?” Hanley shifted in his seat. “Or, do you have more to report?”

  He flicked a side glance to his sister. “No, sir. I am finished.”

  “Check in with me in one week, Guild Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.” Skylar happily disconnected the video feed and pulled the Cranium off his ear. Quietly, he asked, “Did I wake you?”

  “No, My Lord. I had a nightmare.” Gale-Anne lowered next to him. She touched the device in his hand and said, “The colors were like a dream.”

  “They are quite lovely, ’tis true.” The shadows of flickering candles fell over his sister’s face and his eyes studied the patterns. “I am sorry to hear of your nightmare. Shall I fetch you a tumbler of water?”

  “Do you think Windlyn would mind if I crawled into bed with her this night?” Gale sat on her hands and kicked her feet back and forth while chewing on her bottom lip.

  “I think Windy would welcome your company, actually. She cares much for you.”

  Her thin frame deflated as she looked away. “I know.”

  The dispirited posture ate at Skylar. He hesitated only a moment before placing an arm around his sister’s shoulders. Affection did not come easy to him, but he made a promise to try, for her sake. Gale’s face scrunched into confusion right before she launched herself into his arms and cozied up against his chest. A happy sigh escaped her lips as her body relaxed and he caressed her upper back with light motions.

  Skylar stared at a candle and watched a drip descend to a pile of other waxen tears. His eyes drooped with exhaustion and he fought the urge to fall asleep. Mother was still speaking, her voice somewhat muffled by the walls. He should check on her. She was abnormally active for this hour.

  “Gale?” he whispered. She did not reply.

  His sister’s shoulders rose and fell in a slow rhythm. A small smile touched his lips with the sight. Wisps of hair from her braid tickled his face, nevertheless he did not move away. She seemed so small and vulnerable now, despite her often big demonstrations. He was her age when she was born, a memory as vivid as if it happened yesterday. It was a night similar to this one, a gibbous moon and eerily hushed, until she took her first breath. Their house had not known quiet since.

  With a grunt, he scooped up Gale’s limp form and carried her to Windy’s room. Their sister did not stir, not even when he pulled back the blankets. The bed linens felt rather warm to the touch and he furrowed his brows. Did Windy wear too many layers to bed, perhaps? Not wishing to intrude upon her modesty, he covered up Gale then tip-toed from the room.

  He fetched a blanket off his bed and trundled to the living room where he slumped into a chair by Mother’s cot. These past few weeks he had perfected the art of sleeping in a near upright position. Resigned to another night in a hard chair, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The last sound he heard was Mother’s voice whispering, “water,” before sleep finally claimed him.

  The floor creaked and groaned. A soft sound shuffled nearby and stopped. Skylar’s eyes fluttered open and then squinted against the dusky light. It was morning already? Beside him lay Mother’s cot. She stared at the ceiling as her head moved back and forth in slow and gentle motions. Unintelligible words exited from her chapped lips. Sometime in the night, her hands had freed themselves from their confines and now reached for the ceiling, as if she wished to be picked up. Skylar relaxed, convinced he had dreamt the other sounds.

  His entire body ached, hot with pain after sleeping upright in the chair most of the night. Skylar rubbed his neck and repositioned his back and shoulders. A yawn escaped but he clamped his mouth shut to silence the sound. He did not wish to disturb Mother. The floor creaked near his side and his head whipped toward the entry door.

  “Windy?” His twelve-year-old sister faced the large door barefoot and in nothing more than a thin shift, soaked with sweat. Long, light brown hair lay limp against her head and flushed skin. He repeated her name and hazel eyes, just like his, moved his direction. A gasp left her mouth and she swayed on her feet. He jumped up and rushed to her side.

  With a cry, she recoiled away from him and mumbled, “Father forgive me,” under her breath. “I fear I am too sick to work today. Forgive me. Please.” Her body began to shake and then she shouted through her tears, “Please do not be displeased! I promise I am not weak!”

  “Windlyn Mae,” Skylar said, soft as a lullaby. “It is I, Skylar, your brother. Allow me to help you back to bed.”

  “No!” She hugged herself and ducked her head. “I am strong and shall not be an embarrassment. Please do not be displeased, Father!”

  Skylar’s heart shattered as his sister heaved with sobs and darted startled glances around the room. He chanced another step toward her and said, “I am not displeased with you.” Her fevered eyes locked with his and her crying grew to hysterics. “I am your brother and I wish to care for you.”

  “Where is Father?”

  “He is gone.”

  She gulped in a large breath that transformed with a spasm into a horrific cough. “He shall be furious with my weakness,” she wheezed. “I am a disgrace to our home.”

  “No, Windlyn Mae, that is not true. You are brave, strong, and hard-working.” Skylar took another step toward her. “I am proud of you.”

  “Father, I shall not disappoint you!”

  Skylar halted all movement, stunned by the uncharacteristic volume of her voice. She placed a hand on the iron ring and began to push. Did she leave for work? In a panic, he grabbed the ring and shut the door. She screamed and covered her head. The sudden movements knocked her off balance and she collapsed to the floor, then she curled into herself. Unsure of what else to do, he knelt next to her and wrapped his arms around her trembling body. She was burning up. Never had he seen fever-induced delusions, though he had read about them. Maybe Skylar was still dreaming and this was all a nightmare.

  Windy sobbed into his shoulder, a sound that triggered Mother, who screamed her name with startling clarity. Then again. And again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Mother continued to scream and her body thrashed against the safety ropes. Gone were the unnaturally slow movements and slurred, disconnected speech. Was she waking up? The psy
chologist had warned that she may go into fight-or-flight mode when coming out of a catatonic state and become dangerous, not only to those nearby, but to herself.

  Gale-Anne crept into the room, eyes wide in terror. First, she studied Mother and then Windy, who leaned against Skylar, now limp, her head rolled to the side.

  “Gale-Anne, please fetch help!” Skylar lifted Windy and carried her to a chair. “Grab your cloak and run!”

  “Who, My Lord?”

  “Timna and Joannah, if possible. If they are not home, find Lady Brianna”

  Before Gale could depart, his entry door slammed open and the new hinge broke with the force. Skylar resisted the urge to swear under his breath. Five villagers ran into his house, three men and two women, who peered around the room with frantic movements, their eyes wide. Upon spotting Skylar and Gale, the oldest man in the group, Tanner Hawn, warily approached. “We heard screams and cries of distress.” The man stared at their mother as color drained from his face. “Is all well, My Lord?”

  “My sister suffers from a fever and slips in and out of reality.” Skylar winced as his mother released another scream. Gale covered her ears. “I believe Mother was triggered by Windy’s distress.” A crowd began to gather outside his door and Skylar lowered his head to hide the heat suffusing his neck and face. His sister stirred in his arms and lazily blinked as she peered up into his face.

  “Father, please forgive me,” she wheezed. A cough wracked her body and she drew in a labored breath. “I am not weak,” she pleaded. “I shall not embarrass our family.”

  “Shh,” Skylar comforted her, and attempted to swallow back the forming tears. But he could not. His heart and mind could simply take no more. His body shuddered and he sucked in a ragged breath. “I am proud of you,” he choked out. Before the last words left his mouth, her body had gone limp once more. A tear rolled down his cheek and dropped onto her face, and he wiped it away as more tears fell. He clenched his jaw and reluctantly met Tanner’s concerned stare. Mother thrashed that moment and began calling out Windlyn’s name in a strange, rhythmic wail.

  “Let me carry your sister to her room. Care for Lady Emily, My Lord.” Tanner extended his hands and Skylar eased his sister into his arms. “Suzanne?” The man called over his shoulder and a woman and her grown daughter followed him down the hallway, with Gale-Anne in the lead.

  Skylar faced the crowd peering in through the windows and in from the door. “My I trouble someone to fetch Timna and Joannah?” Two young men in the front issued a curt nod and angled through the gathering.

  He flinched when his mother called out for her daughter in desperation. Arms lifted, her hands clawed the air as if digging her way out of a grave. His first instinct was to back up. The grimace on her face and the snarl she released created a ripple of frightened exclamations. Spittle flew from her mouth. She had gone utterly mad. This was the agony of a broken mind. Fury gusted through his veins, a fury unlike any other. His body shook with pent-up rage. He dared not look at the community at his back who witnessed his family’s pain in shocked stillness.

  “Windlyn Mae! Windlyn Mae! Windlyn Mae!” she screamed.

  He did not know what to do. If she saw his face, would she fear him as Windy had? Her hand clawed and grabbed in an invisible fight. He had to try before she injured herself. “I need assistance,” Skylar said over his shoulder. “Two men who can help me hold her down.” They pushed her cot away from the wall. Skylar eased onto the edge of the bed and dodged a flying hand. Gently, he pinned down Mother’s arm while another held the right. She fought against them, but he refused to let go.

  “Mother, ’tis Skylar. Look at me.” She growled and more spittle sprayed the air. “Emily Kane, this is your son, Skylar. Look at me.”

  A tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another. His mother moaned as she opened and closed her mouth as if attempting to speak. She stopped moving, though she did not appear to have returned to a distant stupor, much to his relief. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Sniffs and soft sounds came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find those who had gathered in various shades of grief. Through the window, he could see that the crowd had grown large. Was Dr. Nichols correct once more? Had New Eden feared his stoicism when they had longed to share in his grief? His mother was beloved, a kind and gentle soul who would do anything for another. He gulped in a breath and held back the tide of emotions.

  “My Lord?” A moving voiced called from the doorway. Timna rushed to his side and leaned over Mother’s bedside. “Lady Emily, you poor dear. This is Timna Lanley. You are safe and in the arms of those who love you.” His mother moaned. “You are safe, My Lady.”

  Timna continued to speak in soft, reassuring tones. He swept an anxious gaze over the room. All eyes were riveted to the cot. Mother blinked and her pupils dilated. He gasped when she stared at him in recognition, her eyes clear and focused. Disbelieving, he whispered, “Mother?”

  “Skylar.” She licked her lips and blinked again. “Skylar Greysen?”

  He grinned and wiped his cheeks. “Yes, Mother?” The crowd behind him murmured with excitement.

  “You understand me?”

  “I do,” he said and laughed. “You know my name, what of yours?”

  “Emily Louise Kane.”

  “Untie her,” Skylar said to his helpers. Timna took Mother’s hand with a radiant smile, one that matched the elation touching each individual inside and outside of his home. Quiet cheers and happy whispers rippled behind him and he exhaled slowly. He eased his mother to a sitting position then gathered her into an embrace. Whispering in her ear, he said, “I have missed you.”

  “I am so sorry.” She started to cry. “I am not entirely sure what has happened.”

  “You were traumatized and unreachable.” He pulled away. “Timna is correct, you are safe. Nothing shall happen to you. Or us, for that matter.”

  “I thought I heard Windlyn in distress.” She touched her face in confusion, then stared at the teardrop upon her finger. For a moment, he thought the disorientation would send her back to where her mind had locked her away. But then she met his eyes. “Is she in trouble?”

  “She is ill. You heard her fevered dreams, ’tis all.” He looked to Timna. “If you would be so kind, I would appreciate your care of my sister.”

  “Of course, My Lord. A courier delivered medication from the lab early this morning. There is hope, but we must continue efforts to contain the illness.” Timna turned to the crowd. “This home is hereby under quarantine. I shall provide updates during evening meals.”

  People bowed and curtsied, with soft words of peace and health to him and his mother in their departure. The word “miracle” and “blessed” floated on the wind they created in their exit, and he smiled. He was about to turn back to Mother, when Lady Rain caught his eye, one of the last to leave. Skylar had not realized that she was even in his home. With a shy smile that he was sure matched his own, she pressed a hand upon her heart with delicate movements, New Eden’s salute in shared sorrow and joy.

  “We have Outsider medicine now,” he said. It was a strange thing to say, but he wished to reassure her in his, Leaf, and Lady Ember’s absence.

  “Yes, I heard, My Lord.”

  “It pains me even more for the lost little ones and their families, though I am relieved for those presently ill.”

  “Aye,” she said simply.

  “Shall you fare well on your own this week, My Lady?”

  Lady Rain fidgeted with the strings of her cloak then clasped her hands at her waist. “I am not alone, My Lord.” Their eyes touched one last time before she glided toward the entry door, which hung at a strange angle once more. His pulse beat wildly as he watched her depart, not sure of what else to say or do.

  “Rain,” his mother called out in a weak voice, and the Daughter of Water looked up. “Thank you. My memories are jumbled and rather fleeting, but I do remember your kindness. It was a special day, though I could not say so.
”

  Lady Rain smiled, and it was one of the most beautiful images Skylar had ever beheld. “Spending the day in your company was special for me as well, Lady Emily.” Then she disappeared into the dawning light as Joannah entered their home. Skylar lifted the hewn wood door to ensure it shut properly and sighed with equal parts humor and irritation.

  “My apologies, I was caring for a sick family.” Joannah’s eyes rounded. “Emily! Oh my, what a grand pleasure.” She joined them at Mother’s bedside and placed her medicine basket on a nearby chair. Timna, the township’s Naturopath, resumed checking Mother’s vitals and neurological functions while keeping up a steady stream of conversation with both Mother and Joannah. Perhaps to keep Mother in the present?

  He leaned onto the window sill, arms straight, and tracked Lady Rain’s movements until she disappeared around the bend. Today was the Cremation Ceremony for Jeremy Perkins and Matilda McCauley, both wee ones under the age of seven. The illness had ravaged their community for several weeks now. Why had the lab taken so long to offer medicine?

  His breath fogged the glass pane and he frowned.

  Knowing that the Wind, Earth, and Fire Element homes were quarantined did not sit well with him. It made him feel paranoid, actually. Was this planned somehow? Or mere coincidence? He knew not. Later he would attempt to connect with Lady Ember via Messenger Pigeon to set up a meeting with Leaf. He still needed to brief The Aether on his conversation with the Guild Master.

  Skylar pushed off from the window and said with a bow, “I shall be sitting with Windy, should you have need of me.” He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek, then ambled down the hallway, his mind heavy. Nevertheless, it felt good to finally move forward.

  RAIN

  ***

  And don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.

  ––Rumi, 13th century A.D. *

  And that a young woman in love always looks––“like Patience on a monument, Smiling at Grief.”