From the Mountain

I inspect the clinic one more time, making sure everything is clean and in place. I double check the lock, then, like an old woman, I take the steps into the house to prepare dinner, something I have rarely done. I put an apron over my filthy robe, too tired to go all the way upstairs and change. I am making a simple meal of dried beef and vegetables when Entho enters. He sits at the kitchen table, and I am glad to see the color has returned to his face.

  “How is she?” I ask.

  “Alive…but barely…I’ll be staying up with her.”

  “No, I will. You need some sleep.”

  “You aren’t trained enough…if something happens…”

  I interrupt him. “I will come and get you.”

  I am surprised when Entho agrees. I set a plate before him, even more astonished that he doesn’t wash his hands before eating. He has always been meticulous about cleanliness.

  “Entho?”

  “Hmmm?” I can barely hear his response, but I forge ahead anyway.

  “I know this probably isn’t the right time to bring this up, what with the injured woman, but two boys came here asking for a package for Kesper Harcourt. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I went to your office and found an envelope addressed to her.” I pause for a moment, not sure if he is going to be mad at me. “I gave it to them. I hope that’s okay.”

  He draws his head up and his caramel colored eyes appear to be a dull shade of beige in the flickering candle light. “Two boys?”

  “Yes, and one was a Light Skin.”

  “Awww. Kesper’s son, Thann. I wish I could have seen him.” A thin smile forms on his lips. “I delivered that boy…when your mom and I lived at Harcourt.”

  “No way,” I answer. “I didn’t know you lived at Harcourt.” He takes a bite of food, and I want to press him about why he never told me this before, but I let it be. “So you know Kesper?

  “Yes, I know Kesper well.”

  “I gave Thann the envelope for his mom, Kesper…I hope that is okay.”

  “Yes, that’s fine, Teak, that you gave him the envelope.” Entho’s smile fades and he gazes off into the distance. “That’s very good.”

  I let out a sigh of relief as he eats another bite of food, chewing so slowly that it almost seems painful. He leaves half of the food on his plate, sets his napkin on the table and then stands up.

  “Come and get me…if anything…”

  I interrupt. “I know… I will.”

  “I mean anything…”

  “Got it…go to bed.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” he answers as his blood stained robe disappears around the corner and his footsteps shuffle up the stairs. I know he will fall into bed exhausted.

  Hurriedly, I eat, do the dishes, and then rush to the private room where we placed the woman. On my way, I grab a book off of Entho’s shelf – something to do while I keep watch.

  I open the door to the room and am relieved to see the woman still breathing – shallow, ragged breaths. I pull up a chair beside her and open the book. I read for a bit, watch her, read for a while, watch her some more.

  The night passes slowly this way, and I fight off sleep, occasionally finding my head on my chest as I start to doze off. Each time this happens, I slam my head backward, stand up and stretch, opening my eyes and mouth wide. I walk in circles, like a dog digging for a perfect sleeping position, then sit back down again, placing my hand on the woman’s arm or another part of her body, a reminder to me of how serious the situation is.

  I gaze down at her prone body, struggling to breathe and live, more than once and think that it could be me. I could be lying there instead of her.

  Somehow morning arrives, and I close the book, stand up and stretch. I bend down to check on the woman – she seems to be breathing more evenly. I sigh in relief just as the door opens. It is Entho.

  He barely acknowledges me, but immediately leans down, tending to the woman. He performs an assortment of procedures, some I am familiar with…some not.

  Then he lifts his head slowly, meeting my eyes. I let out a breath of air. “She’s alive…and doing a lot better,” he tells me, his brown eyes wide…and rimmed with shock.

  “Yes,” I yawn.

  “Did you do something?” he questions.

  “No, I just watched her and read this book.”

  Entho’s eyes fix onto mine with what appears to be confusion and maybe accusation. I wonder why. He speaks to me slowly, quietly, as if it pains him to use his voice. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? I left you some breakfast in the kitchen. You did a good job.”

  I start to leave as Entho grabs the woman’s wrist, checking her vitals yet again. Then I turn around. “Entho?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Where are Winter’s parents? And who is that awful man with her?”

  Entho slowly brings his head up and crinkles form in his forehead. “Winter’s parents most likely died in the Final War,” he explains.

  “Why can’t we help her?

  His earthen eyes are dull, sad. “There are laws…about the orphans…you must know this.”

  “No… what laws?” It seems like every day there is a new law enacted. I find it difficult to keep up.

  “The orphans…they can’t be adopted…none of them…not even by family members. They are wards of the city.”

  “Wards of the city? That is just stupid,” I sputter.

  Entho returns to his work, his long fingers positioning themselves on the Light Skinned woman’s neck. But his mood suddenly changes, like a storm has just blown through. His voice becomes harsh. “What happened yesterday, with her Guardian?” He clears his throat, raises his eyebrows. “What did you do, Teak?”

  “I…I don’t know what happened….I just got so mad at him, at how he was treating her.” I pull the huge book up to my chest, squeeze it to me. “I don’t know if it was me or if it was Winter…or if he just had a stomach ache like you said.”

  “Teak, you need to be careful…you must never do that again in front of others…the laws are firm about displaying Power in public…”

  “I know…but it wasn’t Power.”

  “That is what it appeared to be.”

  “Wouldn’t I know it if I displayed Power…after all, isn’t that what Bello has been griping to me about for ages?” I tilt my chin up defensively.

  “Just be careful,” he whispers to me, his brown eyes wide.

  “Okay,” I answer. I close the door behind me and exit the clinic, tramping upstairs in an exhaustion I didn’t know was possible. I remember the breakfast Entho told me about, but I am too tired to eat. I drop into my bed, filthy and tired beyond reason. I lay in my bed for a few minutes, thinking about the long day and night in the clinic.

  The shadowed sun of a new day filters through my bedroom window, arching down on me in a colorful, speckled pattern. I gaze out the window for a while, thinking about the woman with the slit throat, which is only natural. But three other faces haunt me more than hers.

  Chapter 14