Page 40 of To Free a Soul
He tipped his black hat to her. “Well, alright then. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be waiting here for you to collect the rest.”
She nodded and then proceeded to walk along one building before entering a narrow alleyway. She placed the crate upon the ground, covered it in black mist so an unsuspecting eye wouldn’t notice it, and did this twice more with the other two crates.
After brushing her hands of dirt and potential splinters, she placed them on her hips.Those slats of wood from the crates would be good to repurpose into a fence. I’ll make sure to note that in the journal, so they can use them for the garden.
She ducked out of the alleyway to find a craftsman store that sold hammers, axes, shovels, and saws. There, she also found a handheld manual drill and bought that just in case. She had to visit multiple other merchants to buy thick twine and rope, a crowbar, and a sharpening stone. The last item was a bark spud, which was much harder to find than she’d expected.
By the time she was done, sweat slicked down her temples and the nape of her neck, even in the cool autumn air. At the twinge she felt in her back, she winced but tried to ignore it. Any tenderness was soon to fade away permanently.
Kneeling in the shroud of shadows made by the two buildings, she rearranged everything in a certain way and then sat on top of the crates and items. She turned incorporeal, checked to make sure everything shifted with her, and nodded once to herself.
“Weldir. I’m ready.”
“Are you sure? I think there’s something you’re missing. Another box of nails, perhaps?”
Her lips quirked with humour, but she skilfully managed to stem the urge. Instead, she folded her arms and kicked a leg impatiently.
“No need to look so pouty.”
“I’m not pout–” But her words cut off as she, and all her purchases, dropped into darkness.
Before any of the items could pull away from her in the floating nothingness, blobs of Weldir’s magic attached themselves to each item. He pushed them all together in preparation for her to take them away again.
She kicked off and shot through the void towards Weldir.
“How are they?” she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder to steady herself from going face-first into the viewing disc.
He rotated them all as if they were on the convex side of a ball, and Orpheus came into view. Katerina sat between Orpheus’ legs and appeared to be huddling in for warmth.
I guess that’s a good sign.
Although the Veil was warmer than the surface in the winter, and cooler in the summer, it was still the snowy season.
“Little has changed,” Weldir informed her. “And before you ask, our other offspring are much the same. Nathair is also well.”
Her cheeks warmed at having the question that lingered in her mind answered before she could speak it. She didn’t just care for Orpheus, but for all her children.
“The only one you may be interested in is–”
Before Weldir could finish waving to a different disc, she slapped his shoulder again.
“Is that Merikh?” she asked, before quietly squealing when her legs tried to push her much too close to the viewing disc.
Weldir gently grasped her forearm and pulled her back down so their heads were at an even level.
“Yes,” he answered, his tone a little clipped, likely because she’d interrupted him. “He’s finally left the ward surrounding the castle. I believe he’s heading to the Demon Village.”
She pursed her lips at the horned companion next to her son.Jabez still looks so young.She figured he was around twenty-five, maybe even twenty-six from his appearance.He’s barely aged since I saw him over fifty years ago.
It still surprised her how so much could change, and yet so little could in the same vein.
They both wore loose, flowy, low-crotch pants that gathered at the ankle. Jabez’s were mauve, whereas Merikh had opted for a deep crimson and had tied them above his echidna spines on his calves. Neither wore shoes, but both had gone for a shirt that appeared more like a short robe.
Look at Merikh,she thought, her eyes crinkling with longing.He looks so good now.
Although it was obvious he was copying his counterpart in many ways, even down to the swagger of his walk, nothing could take away his domineering confidence.
Lindiwe found it hard to pull her eyes away from her bear-skulled, bull-horned son. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much to apologise for, and so much she wanted to learn about him. He was her most intelligent child, and she wondered what knowledge he’d learned, who he’d become, and what his hopes and dreams were.
