The Fickle Winds of Autumn

The hard, unfeeling stone of the cell floor slowly leached the heat from Kira’s body; the sparse sprinkling of straw offered no comfort or relief. The meagre glow of the corridor torch, through the high grille on the door, provided just enough light to feel miserable, but no more.

She shivered as she cradled her knees - but at least the goosebumps which ran down her arms were tangible and real - the nightmare thoughts which reeled and shuddered through her, refused to settle or confirm whether they were imaginary or telling the truth.

The nuns had often warned her about the dangers of her over-active imagination; perhaps this ugly, startling uncertainty was proof of their words?

The thick basement walls concealed the sounds of the dark night; a whispering silence prowled through the cell, menacing and accusing her: even Ellis, huddled mutely in the stunned corner where the guards had dumped him, was unable to break the burden of her tormented thoughts. They tumbled over each other ceaselessly, desperate to escape, but the damp foisty smell that surrounded her held them captive as they fought against the confused, confined space.

Perhaps this dismal room was all she deserved?

Hadn’t they murdered Aldwyn - her and Ellis?

And then just ran away and left him there?

Alone, in agony, bewildered.

And could it be true?

The things that Aldwyn had said about her?

Could she be a witch?

But how?

Wouldn’t she have known somehow?

No!

It was just too terrible to think of.

But Harath had always mentioned the strength of her spirit.

Perhaps this was what she meant?

Perhaps that was why she had broken the Gift?

She stared through the gloom at the hopeless, barren walls.

Just a few short moments ago, they had all been together in the happy warmth of Aldwyn’s chambers. She shuddered again; the disbelieving shock in his eyes haunted her memory; her repugnant nostrils still harboured the violent scent of his disintegrating corpse.

She clutched at her tunic and pulled it tighter; she rubbed her trembling arms and knees - but the restorative flow of warming blood would not arrive at her dazed limbs.

The friction of her movements seemed to shake Ellis from the spell of his own silent reverie. He rustled across the straw to her and wrapped his thick outer-tunic around her shoulders. The cosy weight of his supportive arm lingered; its sympathetic warmth seeped through to her numbed skin.

Her anxious shoulders unwound slightly.

At least she wasn’t alone with her troubles.

At least Ellis was still there with her.

But wasn’t he some sort of monster?

How could he have done such a thing?

And to his own mentor - almost a father to him?

And yet, perhaps strangely, he did it for her!

Hadn’t Aldwyn said something about ‘cleansing the world of her’?

The uncomfortable nervous prickle quivered down her back.

The words did not sound hopeful.

What if his spell had gone wrong?

Perhaps Ellis had been concerned by them too?

He had to act.

To keep her safe - so that they could be together.

Wasn’t that what they both wanted?

Wasn’t that what she wanted?

She nestled back into his chest.

In the close, chilled darkness, the steady beat of his heart held a thrilling

warmth - an illumination from within - far brighter and greater than the

illustrations she had loved in the convent scrolls.

She knew that she was not alone with her burden.

His heartbeat shared all her troubles and worries and uncertainties.

The bleak adrenaline of the night faded to a sad tiredness.

Where would it all end?

She wanted her eyes to close and allow her mind to drift towards sleep - but Aldwyn’s horrified features flared up before her again.

His eyes - so wise and full of life and knowledge - had disappeared into a void, a desperate, shocked clinging to this world - a panic and confusion that had seemed to last forever.

She had seen that look before - the terror of death - at the Sacred Grove.

The priests, her classmates, the awful ringing tumult of it all.

How could she ever forget it?

Or Aldwyn?

Or even begin to forgive the boy who caused it - the boy whose warmth and kindness now felt so comforting to her?

But then, hadn’t his features collapsed into shock too?

A painful, appalled grimace had also seared across his face.

That was not the look of a callous murderer - he was just as stunned as she and Aldwyn had been.

And wasn’t she also responsible, in some way, for Aldwyn’s terrible tragic death?

Hadn’t Ellis done it for her, to protect her, to save her?

The swirling confusion of thoughts rushed around and fragmented in contradictory, discordant directions.

Why did life outside the Convent wall have to be so complicated, so messy?

And what was she to make of this witch business and the Auguries?

Could it possibly be true?

Could she really be such a terrible threat to the world?

How could her mother be a witch?

Surely she would have known or felt something about it before now?

Or was it, as Aldwyn had said, that she needed time to grow into her powers?

Perhaps that shocking sensation she felt in the Reevers’ tunnels was just the beginning?

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How much longer would she still be human?

Would she turn into one of those hideous creatures who attacked her classmates?

Would she feel nothing for humans any more?

Would she no longer care about who she hurt or destroyed?

Would she forget everything - even about Ellis?

The one person who would know, who she could really trust to give an honest answer, was gone.

She had seen the terrible light depart from his eyes.

And if he was right - if she was truly fated to somehow cast a great Sorrow over the world - then was she really any better than the boy who now shivered on the floor beside her?

Why couldn’t things just go back to how they were earlier in the evening?

Then this dark season of pain and doubt would end - would never have even begun.

Why had the Surrounder chosen such a difficult path for her to follow?

Was she truly so wicked?

Did she deserve the burden of this awful knowledge?

Perhaps if she’d only been better in class and worked harder to please the nuns?

Or if she’d done more to make the other girls like her and be more popular, then none of this would have happened?

But it was too late now, far too late for such innocence or happiness.

It was all her fault.

But how had it come to this?

She would give anything just to go back to how it was.

Perhaps after all, she deserved to be punished?

Perhaps she deserved to die?

When would this pain and confusion go away and leave her in peace?

“Do you think what Aldwyn said about me was true?” she said into the troubled dimness of the cell.

“I don’t know,” Ellis replied quietly. “In truth, I don’t really remember much about what Aldwyn said - his room all seemed so strange, so unreal.”

He shuffled his position.

“My mind won’t let me focus on what happened. I don’t want to remember. I mean, I want to try and explain to you what happened, why I…, why it happened, but I’m not sure if I can, and… I’m worried about what you might think of me, if I do tell you.”

Kira stared at the bleak, barren darkness of the cell.

A strange, confusing sensation, almost like guilt or happiness, stole across her.

No-one had ever been afraid of her, or her opinion, before.

“Well, we only have each other now,” she said slowly, “we need to be completely honest - I’d like to know - I’d like you to tell me everything - and perhaps it might even help to talk about it?”

Ellis shifted uncomfortably behind her again.

“Please don’t think badly of me, or think I’m crazy or something, but at times, ever since we got the Quillon, even back in the Reevers’ chamber, I could hear … a voice, and… I don’t know, but it’s as if the Quillon was talking to me, talking inside my head - I could hear its thoughts, and it could hear mine. I was worried it might be star-taint, but then it seemed to control me somehow… I know it sounds strange, but you must believe me …please… I would never… Aldwyn … I never meant to… Does that make any sense?”

“Does any of this make sense anymore? How can it be that I’m some sort of witch - one of those horrid creatures who killed my classmates? And then the Auguries? I’m not an Augury! I don’t want to be an Augury. I don’t want to hurt anyone - I don’t even think I could ever do that.”

The echo of her angry words faded in the thick, dark corners of the cell. The sure, ardent blood within her began to subside; the vague doubts forced their way to the surface of her thoughts.

“But Aldwyn seemed so sure, so certain,” she continued, “he wouldn’t lie to us - he wouldn’t say those things if he didn’t think it was all true.”

She rubbed her weary arms as the chilled fingers of Autumn clung tighter to them.

“And it’s just not how I thought it would all be - I mean outside of the convent - I mean, I know I’m not pretty or clever like the other girls, but...”

“Then you don’t really know yourself at all,” said Ellis softly.

Kira sat up and scrutinized his face in the dim light.

Probably he was just teasing her.

It was some sort of joke.

How could he really think that she was pretty or clever?

Not like Hettie, or Meg.

But even the vague light of the cell, and the dark peril of their situation, could not disguise the truthful, unconditional blue of his eyes. Her mind rushed and filled with the images of the first time she had noticed them - really truly noticed them - dangling over the edge of the mountain path, the snow-laden wind whistled through the terrifying distance below, while the angry wolves snarled and snapped around them.

His eyes gazed steadily back at hers, through the disconsolate cheerlessness of the bleak cell; her face hovered close to his, just a breath away; the noise of the empty room fell away into the distance, hushed and crystallised; she focused on his earnest eyes and the warmth of his kind face.

She was certain, more certain than she had ever been, that she would find a calmness, a lifetime, a home there.

If she just leant forward slightly, then contact could not have been avoided.

Adrenaline prickled through her expectant body; her lips trembled in delicate anticipation of their closeness to his and the promises that were held there.

Behind her, the cell door clanged open abruptly and a brazen shaft of light from the corridor intruded rudely into their solitude.

Kira’s mind scrambled and searched for answers; she recoiled sharply from Ellis and turned to blink into the intensity of the illuminated doorway, where several silhouetted figures rushed in towards her.