Book 1: Brutality

Mama

32

"Mama..." — A child in pain

~Trigger Warning~

As though she's heard my thoughts, the manticore turns her head, in a leisurely, predatory way, to look at the cottage. For a moment, we gaze at each other through the window: me with my baby in my arms, her with my friend under her claws.

I see no thought in her face, no hostility or malignancy: she's just a large, powerful animal looking at something that interests her mildly.

Then, with a flick of her lion-ears, she turns away. Bending over, she scoops Valindra into her mighty jaws. I let out a soundless cry at the way my friend's arms flop over, helpless and limp, and her spindle falls to the ground.

Then, the manticore turns away and disappears into the forest, taking Valindra with her.

After a moment, the birds begin tentatively to sing.

We can't stay here. That's the thought that drives me through the blank numbness. We can't stay here in the cottage. I sit down to write what feels like a long, laborious note, explaining that there will be no healing or cloth selling today due to a death in the house, and attach it to the ground door.

I do so very quickly, not lingering outside for a second. Then I wake Lindor to spoon some breakfast into him.

He's cranky. "Where Mama, Alby?" he asks, blinking sleepily. "Don't want breakfast. Where Mama?"

I can't answer him. And I can't keep trying to feed him. The effort required is just too great. Come on, I say. We're going to the village.

"Don't wanna go village." I note, with detached interest, how he sulkily and completely unconsciously signs out his complaint while speaking it. "Want Mama. Where Mama?"

A part of me—the part that never stopped screaming after my own mother was killed—is asking that same question. But I can't answer him. I can't break down. Come on, I say, and take his hand.

"No! Won't go! Want Mama!" He clings to a shelf and howls. Elora shrieks too, face crumpling.

It's too much for me. I thump down beside Lindor, my legs giving way. Elora shrieks louder at the impact. I jiggle her against my shoulder, rocking back and forth, while the tears come and I shake with silent sobs.

Valindra. Valindra. How can you be gone? How can you be gone and just leave me here?

Why is it always like this? Do I have to lose everyone I love?

There's the sound of footsteps overhead. "Hello?" Gael's voice calls down. "Valindra? Albia? What's going on down there?"

"Gael!" Lindor calls up. He scrambles to his feet, calling up. "Gael!"

I just sob harder. Now that the tears have started, they won't stop.

"Can I come down?" Gael calls after a moment. "Valindra, are you in there?"

"Mama gone!" Lindor yells.

"Gone...?" Gael shuffles. "Gone where?"

I take a deep, shuddering breath. I wipe away the tears. I can't just sit here sobbing. The children need me. Holding Elora in my lap, I sign to Lindor to be quiet while I get ready.

He obeys, looking at me with a frightened expression. I think he's only just noticed that I'm weeping and on the verge of breakdown, and he doesn't know how to react. He sticks close, clinging to my pants, as I place Elora in her carrier. He clings to my side as we head up the ladder.

The journey up the shaft of the Tree is surreal. How can the spinners still be here, rustling away, when their mistress is gone? How can the Tree still be standing? It seems to take forever to climb up the ladder and achieve the platform.

When we emerge, the ordinariness of the day is more bizarre than ever: everything looks just the same, just as it would on a normal morning, as though the world hasn't irrevocably changed.

Gael is standing there, looking very usual except for his anxious expression. But he takes one look at my face and the anxiety melts into horror. "Valindra?" is all he can say, whispering.

I nod, feeling sick.

He turns away, head bowed. He stumbles a little, and steadies himself against the railing. "Valindra," he whispers. "Valindra."

"What?" Lindor stares between us, face open and confused. "Where Mama?"

I kneel down, Elora awkward on my back, and sign the hardest thing I've ever had to say. I'm sorry, Lindor. She's dead.

"Dead?" His hands sign the word in an unconscious echo. "Dead?"

I nod. The manticore killed her this morning.

"The manticore?" Gael blinks; then shakes his head in a strange resignation. "The manticore."

That doesn't mean anything to Lindor. I can't take my eyes off his face as the horrible news sinks in: his mother is dead. "No. No. Mama!" he shouts suddenly, loud enough to startle a flock of birds from the branches. "Mama!" He lurches for the edge.

I lunge and grab him before he can fall off. He flails for a moment, struggling against me, before going limp. His tiny body shakes with sobs. "Mama," he moans. "Mama."

I hold him tight, rocking back and forth, while he weeps, my own tears falling. There's movement beside me, and Birch reaches a tentative arm around my shoulders. For once, I don't shy away. For once, a man's touch is warmth and reassurance rather than threat.

"Hush, Lindor," he murmurs. "It will be fine. We'll get through this. Hush, hush..." And Gael holds me and my family while we sit in the brightening morning and weep and weep.

~Fun Fact~

I hate my life.

If you liked the chapter, please like & comment.