As Morrighu carried a pitcher of water and a plate of bread and fruit back to her own little section of the Politi tents she saw a small shadow duck under some stools. The Bean Nighe glanced back to where she could see Kit's glittering dark eyes watching her from beneath a stool that someone had dropped a cloak on.
She walked back to her tent - not wanting to frighten the young were-fox anymore than she already was.
Outside of the tents were the normal sounds of people walking about and talking, or calling to children who had no desire to stop their play for dinner. Perfectly normal, but Morrighu still worried. Death again stirred the air - waiting to strike at the already wounded town, whose wounds were barely closed. The previous night's battle had alerted them that their need to be vigilant had grown. Plus the word that Brion had brought that some of the Guard were dropping hints of their allegiance, both of which were why Geiren was out - in disguise - with the warpiper walking the perimeter of the tent city. She sighed and set her food and water down. Not that she was really hungry - many aromas made her more than queasy, but she knew she needed to eat.
Since there was little for her to do - she had already bundled together their belongings in case they needed to make a hasty departure - her thoughts again turned to Kit. The poor youngster carried far too much guilt that was not her own.
Morrighu poured herself some water and looked at the bread and fruit, which had looked appetizing a few minutes before. She sipped at her water - then picked the platter up and went back out into the main part of the tent. Kit had not left her hiding place and the Bean Nighe wondered what else the little one hid from. Maybe she too sensed the coming of battle?
The white-haired Elven woman sat the platter down on the ground and pulled up a stool to sit on. She sat down facing the foxling, and after choosing a slice of orange she held it out. "I thought I was hungry," she said, "But my little one has other ideas...it would be a shame to waste such good fruit. Kit - would you like some?"
The only reaction was for the foxling to pull back under the cloak-shrouded stool - till not even her eyes showed.
Morrighu didn't move, but quietly said - in a voice as soothing as the most pleasant of dreams, "Kit, I know that you fear that Geiren and I hate you. But neither of us do - nor blame you."
::Who told you?:: came the thought; tentative and fearful.
"Lucc did," the Elven woman answered, "He is deeply worried about you. And though he had no desire to betray any confidences - he wanted me to know so I could rectify what little I could."
For long minutes there was silence - only the sound of Kit's soft whimpering came to Morrighu's sensitive ears.
::I saw them bring Geiren back to the Church,:: came the Kit's reply; her thoughts full with remorse and self-anger. Images of Geiren laying in a pile of potential victims while Blayne, Dalmanae, and Smith talked over dinner in the same room. ::I didn't do anything.::
The Bean Nighe buried her icy fury at the Grand Inquisitor and at Smith. She had known that the Elven woman - Dalmanae was a spy - that news had finally arrived from Serun, and Geiren remembered her being present at the barn. But the banshee had only suspected Smith's part till recently. It had been bad enough to know he fought for the Church, but worse yet now that she knew he had known of Geiren's capture. Not that she thought the man had many morals, but she at least thought her aid of Enrico and the Bank would count for something.
None of her fury shown in her manner or her voice as she said, "Kit there was nothing you could do."
::I could have said something,:: came the vehement reply, ::Maybe Blayne would have spared Geiren.::
Morrighu had her sincere doubts of that - the foxling didn't know how badly the Grand Inquisitory thirsted after the song of the Bean Nighe. Nor did she want to remind the girl that her trust in Blayne was fueled by a blood bond.
Instead she gently said, "Kit, please believe me - neither Geiren nor I lay any blame on you. Nor would either of us ever harm you."
::Thank you,:: came the wounded reply as a young fox slipped from beneath the stool and took the orange slice from the Bean Nighe's fingers.
After leaving Morrighu Kit slipped under a pile of mats - seeking the treasures she had hidden there. She was trembling; partially from the relief that Morrighu's words had begun to give, but mostly from nervousness brought on by her next endeavor. She carefully tugged out two carefully wrapped packages, leaving two behind.
She pulled them both over to Linnell's tent - pushing one gift aside for when she visited her friend. The other she left in the open and sat down next to it. Inside she heard Kallin beginning to move around - for though he moved quietly Linnell would have made no noise. As the black-haired Politi mage exited the tent, paler than even the night before, with the tinge of blood on his cuff, Kit gave a soft yip to attract his attention.
She looked up at him with glistening black eyes - her vulpine body shivering with nervousness. And beside her sat a little bundle in blue paper and a bit of green ribbon - bearing mute testimony to the fact that Kit had taken human form to wrap it.
[Kallin]
He had seen her colors, even through the curtain of light from the mosaic he carried within himself, subdued and roiling. Still more than half afraid of him, for she knew he hated the taint of Blayne that remained on her. And on Linnell. But Paul had counselled kindness, something Kallin had never possessed in great abundance and which he found in even shorter supply these days. So he settled down on his heels, not extending a hand to touch her, not wanting to cause her to shy back. "What do you bring, Kitrina?" he asked softly.
[Kit]
::A ....present....,:: she answered - nudging the package towards him. ::You help Linnell,:: she explained, ::And carry great hurt ......:: For long seconds she sought for the words she wanted - fighting back her vulpine instincts to flee. She made herself think as a human, but more than anything the words came from her heart. ::You help....., but let no one help you......so a present....:: Her glittering dark eyes said that she wanted to do more, but knew that there was little else she could do.
[Kallin]
Kallin blinked in surprise, opened his mouth, then closed it while he thought about the hesitant thoughts that had slipped their way towards him. ::She is a'dalin,:: he finally said to Kit, ::one of mine.:: 'As Wyland was,' he almost added, but that would only have reminded her of her own pain and guilt. And that, despite his continuing anger, he did not want to do. With his uninjured hand, he reached out and scooted the gift to him and carefully untied the ribbon, gently folding back the paper.
[Kit]
Kit watched in nervous fascination as Kallin unwrapped her gift. Holding her breath until he had revealed what lay within - the small statuette was carved of smooth silkwood root and polished so that the ruddy wood gleamed. The statuette was of a sweet-faced wood sprite; so gentle and loving in appearance that it made most want to smile. Her hands were held out in what might have been benediction.
As the were-fox looked at the revealed statue she thought back to that morning when she had met the old woodcarver at the edge of the tent city, sitting on a worn mat, in the shade of one of the surviving trees. It had been Lucc who had come to her - a pleasant surprise since she had been shy of the spirit children of late. He had come while she searched the woods for the right presents and said he knew where she could find the perfect gifts.
The spirit boy had led her to a man who seemed weathered and ragged, but who had long, rich auburn hair, tied back in a ponytail that ran down his back and whose end rested on his knee. He had kind green eyes, and smelled of the forests. Lucc had called him Yals, and she had liked him immediately. Around him on the rug were beautiful statuettes, and he was working on a piece of silkwood when she arrived.
Kit had thought to run back to her rooms at the Dragon's Inn to get her coin pouch, but before she could slip away he had spoken.
He had spoken as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to speak with foxes on a sunny day, and he had told her he needed no coin. All he asked was that she rest in his lap and let him learn of whom the statues were to be made. It was as he spoke that she realized that Yals was of the forest - a spirit made manifest. She slipped into his lap and for many minutes he had just stroked her fur with long agile fingers.
He had told her that he could make three of the gifts she needed, but the fourth - Blayne's present - he could not. There was no judgement in his voice as he spoke of the Grand Inquisitor or her affection for him, and when Yals had finished the three gifts she wanted he reached into a pouch and brought out one last item. This he set on the rug in front of her - to let the sunshine gleam in the quartz.
And there sat a chunk of clear quartz -
so pristine that the forget-me-nots trapped within could be seen with no
hinderance. The
dainty purple flowers were so perfectly
preserved that they looked to be alive. "For rememberance," Yals had said,
"For soon you are to go on a far journey."
Kit had looked at the flowers within the crystal and some part of her - the human part of her that was waking up - was struck by the ironic symbolism of the gift. For Blayne had tried to protect Linnell, Selene, and she from the world beyond, but in the end the crystal had been shattered. And all that was left were memories.
Kit pulled her thoughts back to the present as she waited to see Kallin's reaction.
[Kallin]
The mage set the paper aside, and rotated the small sculpture in the palm of his hand, tracing the flowing lines of the silkwood with one fingertip. The threads wrapped themselves around it, and twisted, and whispered back to him of mysteries behind it. But no threat. Kallin could not help but look for it, even from the trembling fox before him, for he had come to see little else but danger in Montfort. Still, Kit's gift breathed only of gentleness. "Forgiveness," he murmured, turning his dark blue eyes to hers. ::For you, Kitrina Tvyvar? Or for me?:: He was beginning to wonder whether Linnell would ever forgive him.
[Kit]
Kit didn't answer for several seconds - she pondered Kallin's question with her sleek head tilted to one side and her black eyes thoughtful. For some reason it seemed to her that each time Yals' long fingers had passed over her fur he carried away some of the guilt. Finally she answered, ::For all who need it......:: At last she was beginning to believe that forgiveness was possible.
[Kallin]
The mage again ran one fingertip over the wood-sprite, feeling a hint of warmth from the wood echoing through the threads. ::We all do,:: he answered softly, both his tone and his colors showing his doubt that any would be forthcoming. "I thank you for this," Kallin said aloud, and paused as if about to continue, before shaking his head slightly. "And for the comfort you give Linnell." He straightened, and held the tent-flap aside, so she could slip in.
[Kit]
Kit gave him a vulpine smile and turned to pick up Linnell's gift in her mouth.
Kit slipped into Linnell's darkened tent, though the were-fox had no trouble seeing - her own natural abilities combined with the enhancement that the vampiric taint brought. She couldn't move quite as gracefully since she was trying to keep the gold-wrapped gift from dragging. But finally she made it to her friend's bed and lay the package on the mattress. ::Linnell?:: she queried.
[Linnell]
The girl in the cot, shrouded in blankets and shadows, waited several long minutes before responding, before turning over to lay on her other side and look at Kit. The heat from the recent feeding lent her pale features a faint flush, a facade of warmth that would fade slowly over the coming hours. Linnell stretched out one thin, white hand to stroke slowly over Kit's fur, but she seemingly took no notice of the gift the other had placed on the mattress. ::How long until sunrise?::
[Kit]
Kit climbed up on Linnell's bed and gently licked her friend's hand with a warm, rough tongue. Then she nudged at the gold-wrapped package, and sent, ::This is for you - from me.::
She looked up her friend with expectant black eyes.
[Linnell]
Linnell raised herself up on one elbow, to look at Kit in the faint light from the single oil lamp in one corner of the small tent. The gold of the paper shimmered, but she saw all through a thin veil of grey. "Wrapped," she whispered, and touched the ribbon. In her fox-form, Kit could not have done that, which meant the other woman had assumed human form long enough for that task. If she could have, if she had had the strength, Linnell might have sobbed at the thought, for even in her own shadows she had recognized the fear and sorrow in her friend.
Linnell's hand hesitated over the package as she touched the paper, and she sat up to open it.
[Kit]
Within the crinkled paper lay a second silkwood statuette, but where Kallin's had been of a young woman Linnell's was of a woman whose age was neither young nor old. The little figure sat naked and crossed-legged, with a extended belly indicative of fertility. There was nothing in the woman's quiet and knowing expression to show judgement or to threaten; her's was the expression of complete and utter mercy for all her children. For captured in the small piece of rosy-hued silkwood was the image of the All-Mother, the Earth Mother, from whence all birth came to whose love all returned, to begin again. The statuette was warm to the fingers and seemed to have been infused with the glow of hope and love.
Kit gently rested her head on Linnell's arm and stared at the statuette - she was as fascinated with it now as she had been when Yals called it from the piece of root he carved.
[Linnell]
The pale girl stared at the statuette for several long minutes, unmoving and unspeaking, stunned by the thing she found sitting in the palm of her hand. Then, still without making a sound, she wrapped her arms around Kit, bending over the fox, feeling the empty ache unfold inside her again, a void where the Hunger lurked, where the cold greyness of <between> continued to grow. Every overture of affection Kallin had made, she had rejected; his very determination to restore the threads to her simply made her withdraw further into herself.
The silkwood, clutched tightly in her fingers, pulsed with an unfamiliar warmth, with a promise of hope.
[Kit]
Kit stayed for a while, cuddled close to Linnell, to offer warmth and comfort. When the young fox woman caught Allenel's scent as he moved about in the outer tent she licked Linnell's cheek, and slipped off the bed. But before she left Linnell's shadowed tent Kit shifted into human form; now an unfamiliar shape but she knew that this would be the best gift she could give Allenel. Her other present would be secondary.
She stepped out into the outer tent - silent as a breeze, and stood looking at Allenel - not sure how to use human speech.
[Allenel]
Allenel stopped in surprise, not certain what to say, simply amazed to see Kit standing before him in human form again. The lawyer had become so accustomed to catching glimpses of the small fox darting in and out of his tent that the change left him momentarily speechless. "Kitrina," he said softly, his voice echoing with the faintest note of his own uncertainty. And extended one hand, half-expecting her to shy away. Iris had come running just moments before to warn him that there was fighting outside the tent city, and he had been on his way to an emergency meeting of the Council ... but for this, he would postpone even that.
[Kit]
Kit felt a moment's unease at Allenel's movement, but realized that it made no difference whether he touched her hand or cradled a scared foxling. He was friend.
She reached out and took his hand and with the shyest of smiles said, "I...have a present for you.....Allenel."
[Allenel]
She had left him speechless again. But Kitrina Tvyvar always had had a talent for that, from the first time she showed up in his office to interview him for the Montfort Mime. And through the harrowing escape through the sewers under the city. Gifts she had given him before, hope even after the deaths of his family, friendship when there had been few to befriend him, his very life. Gently, he squeezed her fingers, and lowered himself to one of the campstools in the outer tent, pulling her down with him to another. And waited for her to continue, as if afraid that any words would startle her back into fox-form, all shivering fur and wary eyes.
[Kit]
The were-fox sat down on the campstool, but then lightly squeezed Allenel's hand and stood. "Its alright," she whispered - noting how still he held himself; knowing that he never wanted to startle her.
For once her step - her human step - was light. Kit was happy to see her friend surprised and pleased. She knelt and dug out the last two presents from beneath the mats. The silver-wrapped one she set aside, but the one wrapped in glittering white paper she brought to the young lawyer.
Kit settled back on the stool next to Allenel's and handed him the gift. Her hazel eyes for a moment danced with happiness, but then sobered as she remembered that soon she must leave her dear friend. "For you," she said.
[Allenel]
Allenel raised one eyebrow, noticing without seeming to the other gift she had set aside. "A gift," he said simply, and before even opening it, half-smiled in gratitude. "Where did you find a place to shop in these ruins?" His tone was light -- as light as it ever was -- but with an edge of weariness to it also. He could feel her expectation, a palpable thing in the air around them, so he did not linger any longer in opening the gift she had given him.
[Kit]
"I found a wonderful craftsman," she said with a soft smile; her hazel eyes watching Allenel, drinking in the moment of his unwrapping his gift. Within the shimmering white paper lay the third silkwood statuette. The woman Yals had carved from the satiny wood was a lithe woman, though her limbs seemed to be covered in bark - armour; her long hair twined around her like dancing vines, and in her hand she carried a sword - resting at her side. But it was her lovely, living face that held the viewer's eyes. For though in many ways the woman's face could be called serious, maybe even stern, her eyes seemed to catch the light and shine with humor and the joy of living.
[Allenel]
The lawyer contemplated the figure for a long time, more time than he had in light of the rumors of fighting in the city streets. And when he looked back at Kit, the slightest tightening around his eyes told her that he had not missed the import of the gift. "Thank you," he said again, more gravely, with another light touch to her hand. There had been little joy, if any, for him in the past months; only single-minded, unwavering determination to survive had kept him going. Each loss -- his family, Kit herself, the destruction of the city -- had rocked him, and stolen away little by little, his capacity for joy.
But perhaps one day, whether soon or not, he would awake without the bone-aching exhaustion that told him his dreams had not been light. Perhaps he would find, in rebuilding Montfort, more than grim defiance. Perhaps he would find joy. "Perhaps we both will," Allenel whispered softly.
[Kit]
She did not need to ask what he meant - she had seen daily how he served only the people - never looking to his own needs, beyond what it took to live. She knew, understood all too well, that to stop - to look inside - was to face a void of grief as encroaching as what was devouring Linnell, or as vast as the Void that Morrighu came from.
Kit looked down at the statuette in her friend's palm, and studied the warrior's eyes - seeing the life and hope that charged the wood. Then - as gently and as cautiously as she could - as if Kit feared to frighten Allenel - she reached out and touched his cheek. And said, "One day joy will be reborn."
And for the first time she truly believed it.