The Other Wind Read Free Page B

but she had a gift, she said, the same as his, and wanted him to teach her. And indeed she had a greater gift than his. Though she knew not a word of the Old Speech, she could put a smashed jug back together or mend a frayed-out rope just with the movements of her hands and a wordless song she sang under her breath, and she had healed broken limbs of animals and people, which Alder had never dared try to do.
    So rather than his teaching her, they put their skills together and taught each other more than either had ever known. She came back to Elini and lived with Alder’s mother Blackberry, who taught her various useful appearances and effects and ways of impressing customers, if not much actual witch knowledge. Lily was her name; and Lily and Alder worked together there and in all the hill towns nearby, as their reputation grew.
    “And I came to love her,” Alder said. His voice had changed when he began to speak of her, losing its hesitancy, growing urgent and musical.
    “Her hair was dark, but with a shining of red gold in it,” he said.
    There was no way he could hide his love from her, and she knew it and returned it. Whether she was a witch now or not, she said she did not care; she said the two of them were born to be together, in their work and in their life; she loved him and would be married to him.
    So they were married, and lived in very great happiness for a year, and half a second year.
    “Nothing was wrong at all until the time came for the child to be born,” Alder said. “But it was late, and then very late. The midwives tried to bring on the birth with herbs and spells, but it was as if the child would not let her bear it. It would not be separated from her. It would not be born. And it was not born. It took her with it.”
    After a while he said, “We had great joy.”
    “I see that.”
    “And my sorrow was in that degree.”
    The old man nodded.
    “I could bear it,” Alder said. “You know how it is. There was not much reason to be living that I could see, but I could bear it.”
    “Yes.”
    “But in the winter. Two months after her death. There was a dream came to me. She was in the dream.”
    “Tell it.”
    “I stood on a hillside. Along the top of the hill and running down the slope was a wall, low, like a boundary wall between sheep pastures. She was standing across the wall from me, below it. It was darker there.”
    Sparrowhawk nodded once. His face had gone rock hard.
    “She was calling to me. I heard her voice saying my name, and I went to her. I knew she was dead, I knew it in the dream, but I was glad to go. I couldn’t see her clear, and I went to her to see her, to be with her. And she reached out across the wall. It was no higher than my heart. I had thought she might have the child with her, but she did not. She was reaching her hands out to me, and so I reached out to her, and we took each other’s hands.”
    “You touched?”
    “I wanted to go to her, but I could not cross the wall. My legs would not move. I tried to draw her to me, and she wanted to come, it seemed as if she could, but the wall was there between us. We couldn’t get over it. So she leaned across to me and kissed my mouth and said my name. And she said, ‘Set me free!’
    “I thought if I called her by her true name maybe I could free her, bring her across that wall, and I said, ‘Come with me, Mevre!’ But she said, ‘That’s not my name, Hara, that’s not my name any more.’ And she let go my hands, though I tried to hold her. She cried, ‘Set me free, Hara!’ But she was going down into the dark. It was all dark down that hillside below the wall. I called her name and her use-name and all the dear names I had had for her, but she went on away. So then I woke.”
    Sparrowhawk gazed long and keenly at his visitor. “You gave me your name, Hara,” he said.
    Alder looked a little stunned, and took a couple of long breaths, but he looked up with desolate courage. “Who could I better trust