Juliet Marillier - Wildwood Dancing

work. Tati hung on. My promise to mend things with Costi had awakened a fragile hope in her. She swallowed water obediently, but would not eat. She submitted to sponge baths and let Stela brush and plait her hair. All the same, I saw what a shadow she had become. When the sun rose on the eve of Full Moon and there was still no word of Costi’s return, despair began to creep into my heart.

Tati awoke restless and confused. She kept asking me whether I had talked to Costi yet and what he had said. She would not be calmed. When Iulia tried to begin another story, Tati whispered that she didn’t want to hear any more and closed her eyes. Iulia retreated to her bed with shaking shoulders. When I went over to her, I heard her whispering to herself, “First Mother, then Father, now Tati; I can’t bear it.” I tried to comfort her, murmuring that Father was not dead yet and neither was Tati, that things could change, that she must be brave. It wasn’t much help; the two of us ended up in tears together.

At breakfast, Petru told me that Costi was expected home sometime today. “Stopped for the night down at Judge Rinaldo’s house. The word is he’s riding on up to Vârful cu Negur˘a this morning.”

This morning. There might be time, if I was quick.

“Jena,” said Paula quietly, “just get your bag and go. I know you have your things ready. Go now. We’ll look after Tati.”

“Going up to see Master Costi today?” queried Florica, eyes knowing. “I’ll pack you some provisions. It doesn’t do to get hungry out in the woods.”

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“I’m not sure if I should go.” Instinct pulled me powerfully in the direction of Vârful cu Negur˘a, but common sense made it hard to leave home. How could I possibly go, with my sister so ill and the night of Full Moon almost upon us? If she slipped away from us while I was gone, I could never forgive myself.

“Yes, you should,” said Stela. “That’s what Tati wants.”

“Florica,” I said, “could you pack up exactly what I used to take when Gogu and I went out in summer?”

“It’s hardly the weather for outdoor cooking,” muttered Florica, but she was already gathering a little bag of flour, an egg, some butter, and a twist of salt. She wrapped them neatly in a cloth. “Here you are, then. Go carefully. Put a couple of cloves of garlic in your pocket, Jena. It may be daylight, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing lurking out there. And keep away from the Deadwash.”

Upstairs, I told Tati where I was going and why. She showed a flicker of interest; I had to hope it would be enough to get her through the day. Then I put on my green gown and packed Florica’s provisions in my knapsack, on top of various other items I had ready: a bowl, a spoon, my little frying pan, a flint.

“Wait,” said Paula as I began to fasten the strap around the bag. My younger sisters were standing there in a row, each of them holding something.

“We thought,” said Iulia, “that as this is a bit like a quest, you’d need magical objects to take with you.”

“This was the closest we could get,” Paula added. She held out a small box. I opened it to reveal a quill, a tiny pot of ink, 369

and three miniature squares of parchment. “We’ve each chosen something special; imagine you’re taking us all with you to help.”

Stela gave me a green ribbon, and Iulia her rabbit-skin hat.

On the verge of tears, I stumbled over words of thanks as I put on the hat and packed the other gifts in the bag.

“It’s all right,” Paula said, grinning. “We know you appreciate us, even if you’ve been too busy to say it much recently.”

Tati was too weak to find me a token, but Iulia brought out her sewing scissors and snipped a few hairs from the head of each sister, me included. These she twisted into a little ring.

She tucked the knotted ends in and put it on my finger. “Sisters and friends,” she said. “We know you’re doing this for Tati as well as yourself. We’re all willing you to succeed.”

It was a long walk up to Vârful cu Negur˘a. I did have a plan, but exactly how to act on it was far from clear. I needed to see Costi without the rest of his household knowing. I must get as close to the house as possible, then hope an opportunity would present itself.

Where would he go after a long ride? Would he take his own horse to the stables, or get a groom to do it? If he went off to bathe and rest, I would have to change the plan. There was a secluded spot I thought I might use, down by the orchard; it was close to the stables, but not close enough to be spotted by the grooms and other folk who worked there. I just had to get there before Costi came home.

As I walked briskly through the forest, I had the sense that I was being watched. I’d catch a flash of movement behind a holly bush or a gleam of bright eyes amid the thick needles of a 370

pine, following my progress. It made me feel better. Dr˘agu¸ta’s plans were big ones; she had been shaping our lives since we were little children. It was easy to believe my small quest today was linked to Tati’s ordeal and Sorrow’s; that the folk of the Other Kingdom were watching me and Costi as closely as they were my sister and the young man in the black coat. Something would be decided today, one way or another.

The day was half gone before I reached the outskirts of Vârful cu Negur˘a. My stomach was churning again; in my imagination, Costi looked at me with bitterness and turned his back.

Trust your instincts, I reminded myself. And trust your sisters. Without them, you wouldn’t have made it this far.

At the far end of the leafless orchard there was an old stone bench crusted with moss. I unpacked my knapsack, gazing between the bare branches at the stable building and, beyond it, the house itself. It was an expansive place, the walls of mellow stone, the roof red-tiled. In springtime the birches that grew close to the house would wrap it in a silvery, whispering cloak.

Smoke rose from the chimneys; Aunt Bogdana was home, but I could not see her until I had spoken to Costi. If he and I could not sort out our differences, I did not think I would be coming here again. It would be too painful. Even now, I felt sick at the thought of seeing him.

I was glad of the rabbit-skin hat. Spring had barely begun, and I did not know how long I might have to wait in the cold.

I took out Stela’s ribbon; on it, I threaded the seedpod in the shape of a heart, which had lain in my storage chest since the day Gogu gave me his token of love and I dismissed it with a patronizing comment. I tied it around my neck.

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I began to gather fallen wood for a fire. Stacking it method-ically, I spotted something small and bright lodged in a crack of a splintery old branch. I fished it out, and a smile came to my lips. I was certain now that someone from the Other Kingdom was helping my quest along. I placed the tiny item carefully with my other things and returned to the fire, with knife and flint in hand.

I was well practiced at building campfires, for Gogu and I had spent many long summer days out in the woods. Once the stack of wood was burning well, I opened Florica’s bundle and began to mix my ingredients in the little bowl. One essential item I had gathered on the way through the forest: a handful of fresh pondweed.

The sun moved overhead behind the clouds. The day passed, and I grew colder and more nervous. I stamped up and down, and clapped my hands together to keep warm. Nobody seemed to be about; the smoke from my little fire had not attracted attention. Perhaps the folk of the house thought someone was burning rubbish. I began to wonder whether Costi had decided not to come home today after all. Then I thought maybe he had already been in the house when I arrived, and that I would have to knock on the front door and think of something to say. The light changed. I judged it to be mid-afternoon, and I still had to walk all the way home. I must be there before dusk: it was the night of Full Moon. Whatever happened, Tati needed me.

Come on, Costi. Perhaps if I put the pan on the fire and started cooking, it would somehow make him appear. I set it over the embers, dropped in a pat of butter, and listened to it sizzling.

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When it was hot enough, I poured in the contents of the bowl and watched until bubbles began to rise through the miniature pancake. As I flipped it, I heard the sound of approaching horses. My little bit of magic had worked—he was home.

They rode up to the stables: Costi and two well-dressed men whom I did not know. They dismounted. A groom came out to lead all three horses inside. Stay, I willed my cousin. I slipped the pancake onto the platter I had brought and decorated it with a garnish of pondweed.

They stood there, talking awhile. I stood watching, a bundle of tension, with my little gift in my hands. Games were all very well, but sometimes the effort of playing them was almost too much. Then the three of them headed off toward the house.

Short of calling out to him, there was nothing I could do about it. Now what? Walk in and accost him, in front of his guests? I could imagine his face, embarrassed and awkward; I could see the look of disdain in his eyes.

The groom came back out of the stables with bucket in hand, heading for the well. I seized what was perhaps my last chance.

“Excuse me.”

He started, then bobbed his head. “Mistress Jena! Shall I tell the mistress you’re here?”

I dredged my memory for his name. “No, Geza, I don’t want her knowing—not yet. I need your help. You may think it’s a little odd, but I have a job for you.”

“Of course, Mistress Jena. But I must water the horses first.”

The pancake was still warm when he got back. There was 373

a certain curiosity in his eyes, perhaps sparked by the story of the girl and the frog that everyone in the valley had been discussing over the last few weeks.

“Take this to Master Costin,” I said. “Make sure he gets it.

I know he has guests, but you must disturb him, even if he’s busy. Don’t tell him who this is from. If he gives you a message, bring it straight back. If he doesn’t, come back anyway.”

“Yes, Mistress Jena.” He held the platter with the ut-most care.

“Thank you, Geza. I know it seems a little strange.”

I waited, pacing up and down, too keyed up to be still for long. It was getting late. I imagined Sorrow, a cup of water balanced in one hand, a little bundle on his back, running, running, eyes burning with determination in his chalk-white face. I saw Tati as she had stood in Dancing Glade, frail as a birch in winter, her words an iron-strong declaration of faith. I thought of Costi eyeing my gift with a sad smile and turning his back. Trust, I told myself. This is Gogu, remember: your best beloved.

It seemed forever, but at last Geza appeared again, hands shoved under his arms to keep warm. The light was fading already; sparks from my fire spiraled upward, like tiny wild dancers.

“Did you give it to him?” I grabbed his shoulders, then made myself let go. “What did he say? Why did you take so long?”

“He has two merchants from Bra¸sov with him, Mistress Jena. I couldn’t go straight in—”

“I said to disturb him!” I snapped, then relented at the look 374

on his face. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have to be home tonight, and it’s getting late.” I knew I should be setting off right now, if I was to be certain of reaching Piscul Dracului before dark. “Any message?”

“No, Mistress Jena.”

“Nothing at all?” My heart plummeted.