Influences of Stars

Chapter 24

As the weather softens and the sickness takes the last it can, Rowley Bridge settles once more and reveres Yeardley. After all, it must have been the death of Ruth which allows this grace. The witch's magic lingered after her death for a while but now it has passed because she has been unable to renew it. Yes, they are saved!

They intoxicate themselves with this glory to haze away the memories of their grief, of what they have all lost this winter. And they do not care that it is upon the back of a girl whose life they barely remember overlapping with their own.

Charis imagines killing Yeardley. She pictures his blood at her feet, spilling from his fading flesh over and over again. Her hatred is trapped in her mind; she screams it through whispers and repeats it over and over in her mind whenever he comes near her. Lord, she is so tired of hatred. She yearns to commit the act of love once more but no one is near that she can do this for. And so she sits in the fire built around her.

Whilst Charis' screams die, Tibby passes them on. Her own cannot be heard outside; they live only in the minds of those she loves, or in her home, but they can be given to someone else. "This shan't be the end of it," Tibby says to Gideon, "I know you cannot be explicit without putting yourself in danger, but promise me that you will save as many as possible- in whatever way you can." She hates not being able to shout for herself.

"I will," he says.

"And how will you do it?" There is an eagerness in her voice, as if she carries the dream of it ending all at once.

"With great care," he says. He knows this shall not pass with ease. "Yeardley disgusts me, but we need him on our side to have any hope." He pauses. "Surely others can see that his pursuits are not Christian?" There is an emotion in his voice which is not used to being there; it jars at his speech which is so used to monotony but sounds rather lovely all the same, at least to Tibby.

She cannot speak to Constance of this change, for she sees love only in those she found as a child. She longs for Charis so desperately. They could exchange words in sincerity and Charis, so alive with righteousness, would find nothing worthy of mocking in Tibby's declaration. Tibby pretends Charis is there now, scolding her for not treating her husband with honour as she should. How dull and lovely that conversation would be!

But with it only being in her mind, Tibby keeps it all to herself. One evening she takes the little fox back into the wild, her eyes beaming with happiness as she sees him rush out into the world. She leans down and watches him disappear into the rushing sweeps of leaves, envious that he may stay for a while and then leave in ease, without any inhibitions or attachment. How free to be alone!

Yet being in togetherness is the sweetest substitute she knows. She thinks of how reduced her attachments are now she is older and of Theo. In truth, she thinks of him everyday and, in the delicacy of seeing the fox disappear, Tibby stays for a moment and weeps alone.

When she returns home, Gideon looks up from the masses of papers he's scribbling over and smiles, though it fades the moment he sees her. "You've been crying?" Gideon asks.

"A little."

"Because of the fox?"

"No. Theo." She still feels fragile because she knows that Theo shall never leave her. The sadness of his parting follows her; it comes when she laughs at a funny memory they shared, or a moment of kindness from him. It follows her whenever she sees sunshine, for she thinks of his hair and his pale skin. She imagines being near him again, pressing her head against his chest and smelling that stale, woodland husk that surrounds him.