We Leave Together, стр. 50
“We are grateful for your aid,” I said. “Ignore my husband. He has spent too long as a wolf to appreciate the delicacy of the human heart. Our seditious letters are being copied every day, by every one. They are spread like fireseeds upon the city. Everyone will know the truth about their city. Everyone will know the truth about Sabachthani’s unholy deeds.”
“Knowing the truth doesn’t mean anyone will do anything about it.”
My husband grunted. “You should have more faith in the darkness of men. The wolves of the city will rip her apart. They will riot at her gate, and she has no more guardians to frighten the mob.”
The carriage stopped. The old woman rose up and pushed her way out of the carriage by herself, without aid. She walked easily into the door to the inner palace. There, another carriage waited for us, open to the air, that would lead us through the interior gardens.
At the center of the gardens, there was a fenced off house, with a locked gate. The guards there stood at attention. The abbess’ ring appeared again and they backed away.
“I am expected,” she said. “Come with me, then, Walkers.”
Inside, the cherry trees were in blossom, though it was not the season for such things. They smelled too sweet. Their color was too purple. The grass was thick and lush. It burned beneath my feet. I felt it burning. My husband was tense. He felt it, too.
The king sat, staring confused and befuddled by a butterfly that had landed on his tea cup. He held up the cup and looked at the butterfly. He saw us. He put the cup down and sneered at us. “Who are you?” he said.
The abbess held out her hand. “You don’t remember your dear cousin?”
“No.”
“Well, I am your dear cousin. I have brought some friends with me to visit.”
“Have you seen my sons? No one will tell me where they are. Are we winning the war?”
“You have won all the wars, old warrior,” I said. I plucked a seashell from a crevice in a tree. The salt smell filled the air beneath the too-sweet flowers. I slipped it into a pouch at my waist.
My husband plucked handkerchiefs and necklaces from the king’s body. “Do not struggle, now.”
“Hands off! I’m the king! Robbing me is death!”
“I am here to help you, old man. Your possessions shall remain with you, always.”
“Liar!”
My husband was far stronger than anyone the king had known in life. My husband peeled away all the shells and bones and diamonds from far below the earth where they were hidden in the king’s clothes. I entered the house, spreading my seeds.
The abbess sat down across from her cousin. “I have brought you something to drink. Do you remember the apples at my mother’s estate? We used to sneak them before they were ripe. We ate them tart and bitter and dared each other to finish the apples we had taken.”
“What is this man doing to me? What are you doing?”
He started coughing. He started coughing and coughing.
My husband lit a match and held it up to the flowers. They took to the fire as if the tree was long dead kindling, and not fresh wood in bloom.
The king was coughing. The guards at the gate were quick to jump through with arabesque blades drawn. My husband threw the wolfskin over his back and howled. This sent them jumping back, afraid. He growled at them. It is holy work we do!
The men ran.
The abbess took her cousin’s old hand. He was coughing and gasping. She held out a small bottle of cider. “This cider comes from the trees of that orchard, when we were young. Take a drink, old friend.”
He smacked her hand away. He stood up and looked at the fire spreading through the flowers. He ran towards the gate. The abbess walked after him.
In the little house, I spread fireseeds. I spread coal. The fire from the yard would make it here on its own.
The old man couldn’t run. He could barely walk. He fell over outside with his guards. The abbess strolled out ahead waving her hands to the guards.
“Take him somewhere safe,” she said. “I will be there shortly to check on him. The fire was no accident, but it is not a crime. We meant no harm to the king. We did no harm. He is merely frightened by our help. The assassins that ruled here, the Sabachthani clan—they are no more in power. They are criminals who were poisoning the king with demon power. Don’t you see the flame?”
Was she believed or was my husband’s wolf-ish countenance so terrifying? There had to be faithful of Erin among the soldiers here. There had to be men who knew exactly what we were. The guards dragged away the king, while my husband howled to the wolves beside her.
I came out. The shell was still in my pouch. It was the same sorcery Sabachthani used to extend his own life.
“Our old kingdom,” she said. “Enough is enough. How long will he live without such demonology?”
“Not long,” I said. “Scrub his walls clean. Keep out all visitors. Accept no gifts. Hold matches to everything to see if they burn.”
She nodded. She pointed. The king was coughing and coughing. Blood was falling from his mouth. The guards were frightened. One was running for aid.
“That might be it. You had better go,” she said. “You can run faster than that guard? You’ll need to.”
We pulled the wolfskins over our backs. We