Chapter 24

  Tomorrow, a Wedding

  Earthen clay jars of glass and dirt took up much of the wagon. Had it not been for their wounds, Nephis and Kugo might have walked. But for now, they sat jammed between the cold, unvarnished clay like bugs beneath a stone. The cart was a far cry from the fine carriages of the capital and of Governor Constantin. It jostled and bumped up with every nook in the road. Moss lugged the cart like an ox, tirelessly pulling it forward. He was strong and pulled quick enough. But strength and speed do not make for smooth rides.

  Nephis watched idly as the countryside rolled along. Still green hills rose and fell with little care for the actions of men or monsters, taking only to the concerns of grass. The same was true of the wind and trees, and even the beasts and birds. It seemed only that man concerned himself with the world about him, and what a troublesome thing that was. They had traveled along for many days now, plodding towards the village where a wedding was to be. For a while, Nephis had feared that the witch Grewa would catch them on the road. But nothing at all had happened. Perhaps he had not yet returned to his castle, or perhaps only now. Regardless, she was glad for it.

  On the wind came the dull, tin ringing of simple bells. And with the sound was the full-breasted scent of cows, like warmed straw and dung. She pulled herself up, and all about them were cattle, freely grazing. They were not far from where the village was meant to be. Ah. Nephis thought to herself. Indeed, she had nearly forgotten how they had released all of the village’s cattle and horses and sheep, so that they might not starve. Judging by the healthy figure they now struck, they had little worry of finding food.

  On the hill was the village. Still fluttering with black banners and silver coins. Though now, the flowers had faded and the colored streamers had been bleached nearly white by the sun, so that the village seemed naught but white and black, like a skull in deep shadow. The wooden gate to the village lay open, and the tracks of animals now covered up those of her people. Vines and weeds crept up in corners and along the stone walls of homes; dirt intruded through open doors, blown by wayward winds. And still throughout the village were small splatterings of blood. All of this would take a long while to bring back to what was.

  They brought the cart to the open village square and began to unload the jars. How quiet it all was. An empty place with only the distant braying of beasts and the occasional thunk of clay against stone. “I believe we can do this with only blood,” Nephis explained how Grewa had returned the man from a pool of it, unconnected to a body. And as far as she knew, the owner of that blood remained in this world. And so, they herded the closest beast they could find. A spotted lamb that had wandered too close to the lonely town. Carefully, they hung it above the cobbled stone, not wanting to slay more of the villagers’ livelihood than need be. Kugo slew it. Red blood dribbled between the cracks in the stone, spreading through them like veins or spider webs. And carefully, Nephis laid the first shard of glass in the pool.

  From it burst a man, his clothes now stained in blood and his eyes full of fear. He gasped in fright. “What is this?” he asked, and when he saw Kugo. “Back! Get back from me, devil! You cannot mock me with dead men anymore! Don’t mock me! Not with my home . . .”

  Seeing his trembling frame, Nephis knelt down next to him and took him by the hand. And feeling her hand was warm to the touch, he began to weep. “You are home. Feel the blood on your skin. Lunasagh cannot mock you any longer,” she comforted him. They set him aside, where he might feel the real wind and grass once more.

  The next person to burst from the glass was a woman. She was without clothes, her tan and pale body revealed to the sun. She had on her face an expression of glee, but when she realized she was no longer in the crystal palace, her face contorted and twisted into a foul and furious visage – hate. Nephis once again knelt down to comfort her, but stopped frozen when she saw her expression. “What?” the woman gasped. “No! No, take me back to the palace!” she cried, hate caught up in her throat. And she grabbed Nephis by the shoulders, stinging her wounds. “Please, don’t take me from there! I- I had everything! I had anything!” she begged Nephis with a dry and rough voice, as if she had not drunk anything for weeks and weeks.

  “No!” Nephis replied, “I can’t send you back in there with him.”

  “You, sow! You, cow! Why do you hate me? Why do you hate me?” she spat and gnashed her teeth, “You, bitch! Why do you hate me?”

  “I don’t hate you!” Nephis pleaded, trying to pry the woman’s cold hands from her shoulders. “But I can’t send you there. It isn’t good for you!”

  And the woman collapsed and wept bitterly. “What am I to do? I have nothing here.”

  “Surely you have your husband and children,” Nephis tried to comfort her, as she seemed about the age.

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  The woman’s expression changed again. “My husband,” she chortled. Her eyes were dull and vacant. Her gaze was like a rag wrung far too dry. And Nephis stared into an expression that could have been her own. Lifeless boredom. Kugo quickly led the woman away to be on her own.

  One by one, they set glass in blood. And each person who emerged had to be tended to. Some were like the first, frightened and alone. Many were like the woman, bitter and desperate to return to the false world within. Of those who kept their wits, they instructed what to do and what was happening. After a long while, the town square was full of villagers stained with blood in various states. Some fat, some still, some naked, some weeping, some comforting, some hardly even seemed to realize that they had returned, staring blankly at the sky in ecstasy or dread.. The drained bodies of sheep and horses littered the stone ground, and jars still remained.

  They set another shard of glass into the blood, and tumbling from it was a lithe young woman with now tangled blonde hair and a pretty dress. It was the oracle, Naki. Her face was pale with fright, and her eyes were sharp as tacks. But seeing Nephis and Kugo and Moss, her expression softened, and she threw herself upon Nephis. “I know this is real!” she cried, “Because I never dreamed of you saving me!”

  And Nephis drew her close and comforted her. “Welcome home,” she said.

  Once she had caught herself, Naki looked to Nephis. “Did my charm keep you safe?” she asked, “Did you slay Rava Murku? Might I be married now?”

  Nephis wrung her hands. “Well, I am safe, and alive, no doubt thanks to your charm. But I am afraid the guardian was too much for us.”

  And Naki’s gaze fell.

  “Well, maybe you can still be wed!” Nephis tried to cheer her up. “Perhaps you were wrong about it all. Your betrothed must be here somewhere!”

  “Yes!” she cried, “He must be looking for me!”

  They spent a while combing through all the villagers who had been freed from the glass. Eventually, Naki recognized him. A man lay on the stone, only a sheet covering up his body. She rushed to him and swept him up in her arms. “I am here, my dearest!” she cried, “Are you glad to see me?”

  He stared blankly up at the sky, his eyes glazed over, and his tongue wagging out in pleasure. He breathed and he muttered to himself, but he did not recognize his bride or the world around him. “Dearest?” she called again. He did not reply. The bride’s eyes began to water as she slowly set his head down. “I have never been wrong,” she choked. And Nephis wept with her for a while.

  By nightfall, all the jars had been emptied, and a great pile of bloody glass lay in the center of the street. A mighty bonfire was being arranged by the few remaining able bodied men of the village. Nearly all of the village’s people had been returned, though not all to their original states. The lambs that were slain were being prepared for a rather somber feast. Indeed, the black banners of the village still wove and shone in the firelight. And filling the air was the sound of weeping, some from joy, but most from dread and sorrow. They shoveled the glass into the white hot bonfire. As the fire burned and raged, the sharp glass slumped and molded together into a fat lump, which lay like a slug in the blaze.

  That night, they slept in Naki’s home, all stuffed into the sitting room like a key to a lock. Nephis lay awake, staring at the charms that hung from the ceiling, catching the light of the bonfire like fireflies. The image of the woman howling to be put back in would not leave her. Though the glass was melted and could harm no one any longer, the thought of what had become of her and what could have become of Nephis haunted her. That glass would have been better buried. The children would have been better to keep from the gorge. But what if someone else had found it first? Someone more wicked or weaker-willed? Nephis turned the white stone idol over in her hand.

  That morning, as they left, Nephis and Kugo piled into the back of the now nearly empty wagon. Both of them stretched their legs and leaned against the rough wood, and still there was more space. Their bags lay at their feet, and still there was more space. All of the sudden, the heavy bag that Nephis had had Moss lug around seemed small and impoverished. But for now, she was happy to let her legs rest. Kugo was unused to such luxuries, and were it not for the wound in his side, he might have walked. But, begrudgingly, he lay against his bag and nearly drifted to sleep.

  Right as they were to head out, Moss secured to the wagon, they spotted Naki, the oracle, hurrying after them atop a great, nut-brown horse. “Wait!” she called as she brought the beast to heel by their cart. As she slipped off it, it became clear just how tall the beast was, it’s back far above her head, and it’s fur cuffed hooves much larger than her own feet. “This is a gift,” she said in a little voice, “For saving us.”

  “Oh! You needn’t do that,” Nephis said, “We have Moss.”

  “Please, you must take it,” Naki pleaded, “The people of this village could not bear it to be indebted to you forever.”

  Kugo then leaned over to whisper in her Nephis’ ear, “We can always sell it, a few towns from here.”

  Nephis’ ears perked up. “Well! If you insist, I could not dream of burdening the people any longer!”

  They said their goodbyes, and Naki was about to turn and leave, when Nephis asked her one more question. “Do you have any prophesies for us?” she asked in cheek with a grin.

  Naki’s face fell, and she grew pale. “I do,” she said tickingly, her tongue caught in her dry mouth. “I suppose I owe you the words I hear. I have one for each of you. The same and different. ‘What is in your heart, will be taken.’”

  For a while, there was only the wind and the braying of the horse.

  With those heavy words, they set the reins to the great horse and left for the hills. They were far behind the Knights of the Black Oak, off back in Remare or Lugoj. Whatever they were seeking, they would surely have found it by now. And as they left, Nephis turned that white idol over in her hand again.