River Heart

Chapter Four - Birdsong

It was a loud chatter of birdsong that woke Lyris. Sparrows hopped from branch to branch so that the over-hanging vines rustled and bounced; dappled sunlight shaking on her face. It had been a cold night with sleep coming in short uncomfortable bursts. The moss-covered ground that she’d hoped would be soft, had become unyielding. Her left hip and arm felt bruised and bracken poked her cheek as she lay peering at the pale green leaves. Warmth wrapped around her middle and she felt like a stream, suddenly frozen and unable to move.

Lyris couldn’t remember when it had happened but in the cold, endless part of the night, she’d curled up beside Arn and his arm had wrapped around her waist. His belly pressed against her back. His hand was warm on her middle. The weight of it sent tiny flickers through her abdomen.

The young woman let out an uneasy breath and rolled onto her front, flat against the soil, then onto her side again. His arm dropped with a thud and he grunted in his sleep. Shadows moved across his face as he rolled onto his back. It was the first time she’d been able to see him clearly. His hair was a darker shade of blonde than she’d imagined in the silver patches of starlight the night before. His beard was coarse, tracing the line of his jaw and chin and covering his top lip. There was a red line across his nose from a recent break and a healing scar on his left cheekbone. In the dim light, it looked as though a necklace of dull metal curled around his neck and vanished beneath the V of his shirt. Transfixed she watched him lift a long limb and press a hand over his features. Lyris held her breath as he sat up, the movement slow, as though sleeping on the ground had left him feeling just as delicate. Willow leaves scattered to the mossy carpet beneath.

‘Damnit,’ finally he looked at her. It was a stern face, a determined chin and nose in an angular jaw and heavy brows drawn together as he frowned. It was only softened by a bottom lip that was fuller than the top and dark lashes that would make any woman jealous. ‘Are you hungry?’ His voice was a low-pitched growl.

‘Starving,’ there was denying the rumble of her stomach.

Arn glanced around the leafy canopy then lifted his shoulders in a shrug, ‘my supplies are all in my boat.’ He pushed himself to his feet, bending between the lower branches.

Lyris followed him careful not to c***k her head on the tree again, her skull still tender form the day before. What did he mean by boat?

‘Is that why you were heading for the water?’

He nodded, ‘I was fishing with my brothers when I saw you,’ he pulled aside the fronds like a curtain and held them for her to duck through.

‘They didn’t join you?’ she ran her fingers along one of the vines, stripping leaves from the edges.

Arn only shook his head and they stood together in silence, looking over the forest floor. Bluebells spread in large patches beneath the trees, broken up with the occasional white cap of a snow drop or bright yellow dandelion. Thick moss ran in rich green rivers beneath the flowers, spreading up the trees like the sea breaking on a cliff.

Lyris was left with more questions, why hadn’t his brothers decided to help him? Where were they now?

‘Will you go back to them today?’ She pushed her hands into the pockets of her breaches. There was a broken trail of flowers where they’d blundered through the darkness the night before. His arm brushed against hers as he rolled back the sleeves of a white shirt. Like her own clothes, it had suffered from a night in the wilderness, streaked with mud and moss it was torn beneath the elbow and she could see grazes working down his arm.

Lyris checked her own wrists then, flinching at the sight of the raw skin, peeling back in layers. From wrist to elbow her arms were a battlefield of grazes, scraped along the cave wall then the cliff face.

‘I’ll help you if I can,’ he met her gaze for a moment before gesturing towards the path they’d woven in the dark. ‘You’re going back to the village, aren’t you?’

She drew a deep breath and nodded. For good or ill, it was her quest. If she didn’t complete her task she couldn’t move forward with the Myst. She couldn’t step behind her studentship…and what then? A life spent teaching children on the Hidden Island? Everyone that became a student of the Myst was gifted. Failing to graduate meant that control hadn’t been achieved. It meant that she was too dangerous to let loose on the world for large periods of time. Or worse, it might mean that her Gift for magic was sealed away, unreachable.

‘I haven’t failed yet,’ she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. ‘I just need a water sample from the well.’

‘That’s why they were going to kill you?’ His mouth fell open with disbelief.

Lyris nodded, watching the sway of trees in the distance. How far back were they from the forest edge and the meadow? She wondered how long it would take to work their way back to the meadow and the village beside the pass.

‘Lyris,’ Arn touched her arm and she turned to face him.

She was a tall woman so it wasn’t often that she needed to look up at anyone, yet Arn was the exception. The violence of the villagers’ hatred had caught her off guard and she’d failed to defend herself. They’d nearly killed her, and bile settled in her empty stomach. When she thought about how close she’d come…it was hard to breathe.

‘They tried to kill you, because you need a sample from the well?’ His fingers gripped her elbow until she pulled away.

The young woman nodded, surveyed the path a final time and set off. Hands pulled from her pockets, they clenched at her sides. ‘They think their well has been poisoned,’ she forced herself to see it from their perspective, though it went against the building sense of anger within. ‘They want the sickness to stop, I can’t fault them for that.’

‘You’re trying to help them!’ he crashed through the undergrowth beside her.

‘They don’t know me,’ the Student countered with a sigh and her anger fled. It was going to be a long enough day without adding to the frustration. ‘They just want it to stop.’ She was surprised to see the edge of the treeline approach so rapidly. Barely five trees away from the willow and she could see the gentle sweep of the meadow. The long grass whispered in waves. Touched with bright fuchsia and rising bursts of white cow-parsley.

‘You have a plan then?’ Arn pushed his palm against the bark of a silver birch. He waited for her answer before staring at her, incredulous, ‘tell me you have a plan?’

Lyris nodded and his mouth fell open once again.

‘Tell me that the plan isn’t to walk back into the village, in broad daylight, and try and collect a sample from their well – again?’

‘That’s the plan,’ she nodded. The young woman pulled at the strands of long dark hair that had fallen free of her ponytail. She reached up and found that most of her hair was pulled out of the tie in clumps and unfastened the knot of leather. She smoothed the hair against her head and re-fastened the knot.

‘Tell me that it’s not the plan,’ Arn repeated, he moved to stand in front of her. Large enough to block the light from the field. He planted his hands on his hips and the young woman found herself holding back another smile. He looked like one of the fish-wives who lived on the Island. A fish-wife who’d found her favourite dress turned into an apron.

‘I can tell you whatever you like,’ the woman lifted her gaze from the fastens of his shirt, up past the exposed skin of his chest and neck and met his pale eyes. ‘But it won’t be the truth.’

‘You know doing the same thing twice and expecting different results, is the definition of insanity?’ He looked over his shoulder at the distant village with his brows drawn together in a frown.

He wasn’t moving so Lyris tried to step around him but he shifted his foot and stepped into her way again. Frustration had her fists curling as she stared at him. Her gaze level with his nose.

‘I have a quest,’ she kept her voice steady and low, ‘you cannot stop me from completing my task.’

‘They’ll just grab you again!’ He met her gaze once more and she almost felt sorry for him. He was worried and that was sweet. It still didn’t change the facts though. She still had to complete her quest.

‘I’ll be prepared this time,’ Lyris tried to swallow her fear and forced a smile. The man studied her expression. Then he gave a quick shake of his head.

‘You’re insane, aren’t you? You’re actually mad,’ he’d taken a step towards her and the young woman took a step back.

‘No,’ Lyris wondered why she was trying to reason with him. Another step forward and another back and she felt bark against her spine. Trapped between his frame and the tree she prepared to move left when he stopped. Lowering one hand to press against the bark of the tree as soft blue eyes moved over her face.

‘I’m not mad,’ Lyris folded her arms across her chest and told herself she wasn’t afraid either. Her heart though, was thumping hard and slow against her chest and her palms were clammy.

‘Just in case,’ his voice had dropped.

She watched his gaze falling over her features, down the curve of her nose to her lips. It was hard to watch his eyes when he was so close, his mouth much closer to her line of sight. The young woman let out a slow, uneven breath and darted to the right, away from his arm. She spun to face him, pressing a hand to her features. Struggling to keep her expressions clear and her voice calm.

‘I won’t be caught off-guard this time. I won’t let them grab me,’ Lyris paused, nodded to herself and then turned again, striding once more towards the meadow. She glanced back, over her shoulder at the tall young man who stood, watching her. Eyes clouded with confusion and narrowed with mis-placed concern. What had he planned to do? She wondered before trying to dismiss the thought.

‘Thank you for your assistance,’ she called over her shoulder and looked ahead once more.

He could go back to his brothers and his fishing and whatever it was he did in life. She owed him a debt and she’d be forever grateful for his help…and she was relieved to hear the crash of his boots through the undergrowth behind her. Biting back a smile, she slowed her own steps, pausing on the edge of the meadow.

Arn continued to shake his head as he caught up, ‘whether you’re prepared or not, I’d rather you had someone to help watch your back,’ he paused. ‘I still think you’re mad.’