The Tower: Part 6: Ostara
Post #52: In which show and tell ...
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(O-STAR-ah) Spring equinox; balance point between Yule and summer solstice. Increasing fertility and creativity.
The Card: Ace of Cups: A journey into feelings.
CHAPTER 18
ROSE RED
Rose Red lay awake. Her bed was a wool mattress laid on a platform curving around the oak’s trunk. She lay curled on her side, her back pressed against the solid reassurance of the tree’s trunk. The dying tree weakened, but its strength remained far greater than hers, and it comforted her.
She felt afraid. Her sleep was light and restless these days. Sometimes it seemed to her she’d not slept well since Rowan melted away into the wild spring world of musk and tree. Anticipating his return troubled her sleep for weeks. Then, when she understood he would not return, a mixture of grief and shame she felt unable to share kept her wakeful.
Rowan’s absence had not wakened her now. Time and recent events had effectively diluted and crowded out Rowan’s departure. She no longer thought about him every day or grieved his loss every night.
A new feeling disturbed her now, not grief but a sense of menace circling around Rowan Tree. It threatened the whole community, but her specifically.
Unless she was making it up. Unless it was all in her head. Unless she was being hypersensitive and hysterical. She lay, her heart throbbing uncomfortably, tense with listening, her breathing shallow. She felt like a small, furry hunted thing crouching underground while an unknown predator stalked outside.
Stop it, she told herself silently. You’re being ridiculous. You’re overwrought. You’re safe at Rowan Tree. Gwelda’s tucked up in her new house. Artemis is somewhere outside, enjoying the spring night. Eurydice and Kunik are asleep near Rowan Portal. The spring is gurgling to itself.
Deliberately, she relaxed her shoulders, her neck. She rolled onto her back and made herself take a deep breath. She considered getting up, making a light, perhaps going out in search of Artemis.
Her pulse accelerated again. No. Something waited out there. Something. She must not call attention to herself; she must not leave her shelter. When day dawned she would be safe, but not until then.
She remembered a day, a long time ago, just this time of year, when Rumpelstiltskin revealed he’d watched over her mother, Queen Snow White, when she was a girl. Rose Red had already left her parents’ castle then, and become apprenticed to Artemis.
The Dwarve had talked about her mother’s sensitivity, and her own. It was the first time anyone had acknowledged her heightened feeling and awareness as a gift, rather than a shameful flaw. He’d said her sensitivity made her “more than” rather than “less than.”
She’d never forgotten that, though she remained unwilling to allow others to see her vulnerabilities. Was it possible now there was a real reason for her fear? Whatever her mind said, her body was most definitely afraid – of something.
Tentatively, she probed. When had it begun, this fear?
It was hard to pin down. It had grown slowly, increasing over time from a vague uneasiness she hardly noticed and attributed to her own unhappiness over Rowan, her sickening oak tree and Rowan Gate’s breakdown. The Rusalka’s departure had been a loss. The breakdown of the Yrtym, its cause and consequences, affected everyone. That worry was impersonal. It was like a slowly-approaching storm, muttering and rumbling in the distance. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do to help, yet it overshadowed every day. She couldn’t bear to think of Webbd without trees, without portals, without the connections between different peoples, so she tried not to.
Had she felt uneasy when Artemis arrived with news of the White Stag’s death? She couldn’t remember. Perhaps. Uneasy, but not afraid. Mostly, she’d felt sad, a condition Artemis’s companionship had eased, even though she brought such sad news. They had been able to talk, to share their loss. Her fear wasn’t associated with Rowan, or her oak tree, Artemis or the White Stag. Gwelda arrived then, which added another layer of sadness, but no fear. Then, for some weeks, all her energy went into helping Gwelda recover from her burn and shock and get settled.
She felt sad, too, about the new tensions within the community. She worried about Maria, as well as feeling furious with David and others who appeared bent on dividing Rowan Tree. She felt irritated with Mingan, one of the newcomers. She didn’t trust him. For some reason, he had inserted himself into the group assisting Gwelda, though also subtly supporting David’s attempts to take over leadership of the community. He’d worked as hard as any of them, but he’d hardly spoken to Gwelda and appeared, in fact, to avoid her.
It made no sense. Added to that, he paid her, Rose Red, altogether too much attention. She felt his eyes on her, and he frequently found a way to work with her. She knew the others noticed it, too. Gabriel often interrupted Mingan’s attempts to involve her in private conversation.
Mingan appeared a strong man, barrel-chested, with thickly-furred arms. His coarse hair was a strange yellowish grey brown mixture, his eyes brown with a greyish cast like over-stewed cold tea. He repelled her physically after Rowan’s soft-footed feline grace.
In dance, when training with Artemis, Rose Red discovered in herself a deep, cold, corrosive anger. At first, she’d felt ashamed, and even afraid of this feeling, but gradually she’d come to terms with the wild, fierce part of herself that could fight with no fear or thought of anything but survival. Something about Mingan made that snake-eyed, elemental female in her stir.
Now, Gwelda’s house was built, and her hand healed. It was Spring. Rowan Tree quieted down. Eurydice had led a ritual that repaired Rowan Gate, at least temporarily, and gave new hope and connection to a small group of grieving women, including Rose Red. After the ritual, Kunik moved in with Eurydice. He planned to turn his little house into a workshop after Chattan no longer needed a place to stay. Their delight in each other increased daily. Persephone had visited, taking a break from her busy life in Hades. Clarissa, the first to use the newly-repaired portal, had arrived to meet Seren, the storyteller who’d come, unsolicited, to repair Rowan Gate and, as far as she could tell, show off. With these events she associated relief, gratitude, irritation, and even hope, but not fear.
She groped under the mattress for the strange copper knife Brigid had given her the night of Eurydice’s ritual. It was an enigmatic gift. She’d never seen or heard of a copper knife before. Brigid had told her she’d know when and how to use it, and to keep it close. She was well-accustomed to using bow and arrows and knives, but something about this particular knife disturbed her. What kind of an act required such a blade? Was the knife connected to her sense of hidden threat?
A robin announced the dawn, insistent and confident. It sounded as though it perched in the oak tree canopy above her head. She imagined other birds stirring, waking, pulling their heads out from under their wings to begin a new day of building nests and mating play. The night’s dangers were over.
Rose Red turned on her side, relaxing. In a minute, she would get up, dress, make a light and heat water.
She slept.
Later that morning, Artemis came by to walk her down to the community kitchen for breakfast.
“You’re sleeping late.”
“I didn’t sleep well. I heard the robins start chirping, and then I suddenly did.” She yawned, feeling more tired than she had earlier.
“What kept you awake?”
“I don’t know,” said Rose Red, feeling suddenly tearful. “Everything, I guess. Sometimes I feel scared.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. That’s what’s so hard. I feel a sense of threat, especially at night. I’m probably being stupid.”
“Maybe not,” said Artemis. “Come and eat breakfast now, though. You’ll feel better.”
Rose Red was surprised to find Chattan cooking. He’d been absent for several weeks after going with Artemis to investigate Jan’s death and the fire. Kunik was with him, eating ham and eggs.
“Breakfast, ladies?” Chattan inquired breezily.
“Please and thank you,” said Artemis. “I’ll make tea.”
“Already made,” said Kunik, with his mouth full.
Rose Red sat beside Kunik while Artemis poured tea, handed her a cup, and began slicing bread for toast.
“When did you get back?” Rose Red asked Chattan, wrapping her hands around the cup’s comforting heat.
“During the night. I missed Rowan Tree. I’m glad to be back. How are you? How is Gwelda?” His tawny eyes smiled into hers as he flipped the ham in the skillet.
She felt warmed by his friendliness, but also shy. She looked down into her tea cup.
“I’m all right. Gwelda is better. Her hand has healed, and she loves her house.”
“That’s good.” He broke two eggs into the sizzling pan. “Did Artemis tell you what we found?”
“She said there wasn’t much left of the house, but some of Jan’s tools were still there. Gwelda has them now. She said you found the place where Jan was killed.”
“Yes.” His mouth tightened in a grim line.
“Who would do such a thing? Artemis said she didn’t think it was an animal.”
“No. Wild animals don’t kill like that. Does Gwelda have any ideas about someone who didn’t like them, or had some kind of a grudge?”
“She’s as puzzled about it as we are.”
The door opened and Maria and Heks appeared.
“Good morning, all,” said Maria. “Welcome back, Chattan.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Breakfast?”
“Tea,” said Heks.
Artemis brought two plates from the stove, along with a cup for Heks. Maria refilled the tea pot, set it near Heks’s elbow, and nudged Chattan aside. “You’ve done your part. Sit.”
He surrendered the frying pan and Maria began frying more ham.
“We were talking about Gwelda and Jan,” Artemis said.
“Anything new?” Maria asked.
A look passed between Artemis and Chattan, and Rose Red put down her fork. “What is it? There’s something you’re not telling us.”
“There’s something you’re not telling us, too,” said Artemis.
Rose Red looked at her, open-mouthed.
“You’re not sleeping,” she prompted.
“But that’s nothing,” Rose Red protested. Her face felt hot. “I’m just being silly.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Maria cut in.
Rose Red looked from one face to another, feeling trapped. Kunik looked concerned, Chattan interested. Heks appeared wrapped in her own thoughts. Maria’s gaze demanded a truthful answer.
“I’m afraid of … something. I don’t know what. I feel it mostly at night. It started gradually, but it was so strong last night I felt afraid to get up and make a light. It’s like an invisible eye watching me – watching Rowan Tree – in the dark.”
“That’s not silly, Rosie,” said Maria. “Do you normally lie awake, scared, at night?”
“No.”
“Then why would you suddenly start for no reason?”
Rose Red shook her head.
“Eat,” said Chattan. She glanced up at him. His face was kind.
“I knew a woman once,” said Maria. “Her name was Juliana. She had a feeling about someone, a feeling of danger, of trouble. She told herself it was nothing, not important, and there was nothing she could do about it.”
“And then, one day, he killed her,” said Heks unexpectedly, “and then he killed someone else, another woman.”
“Jenny,” said Rose Red.
“Lovely Jenny,” said Kunik.
“There were other signs Juliana was in danger,” said Maria. “Heks?”
Heks reached into the collar of her tunic and withdrew a leather drawstring bag. She loosened the top and spilled out the contents on the table. Marbles rolled in every direction, among them two large black ones with points of shimmering light and six smaller ones. One rolled against Rose Red’s plate and an open blue eye looked at her. She returned its gaze, fascinated and horrified.
“That was Rapunzel’s,” Heks explained. “It belonged to her lover, Alexander.”
“The one who found her in the tower?” asked Rose Red.
“The very one. These,” she indicated four brown eyes,” are the eyes of Maria’s children, Juan and Carlos.” Maria picked them up, closed her fingers around them and dropped a kiss onto her hand before releasing them. They, too, were open.
“That,” said Heks, pointing to a glaring amber eye Chattan examined, “belonged to Radulf. He thought it was a wolf’s eye.”
“The eyes aren’t always open,” said Maria. “Usually they’re not, in fact. It appears they open when there’s danger, or at least something important to look at. While Rapunzel and I were with Juliana, before she was killed, Alexander’s eye was always open. Radulf, Rapunzel and I gave Heks our eyes the year we founded Rowan Tree for safekeeping, and they’ve remained closed since then. Sometime last winter they opened again.”
“Could it be the Yrtym?” Chattan asked.
“It could be,” said Heks. “It could be anything.”
“I believe in intuition,” said Artemis. “Part of what makes you so special, Rosie, is your sensitivity. You don’t make up uncomfortable feelings for attention or to entertain yourself. If you feel danger, there is danger.” She sounded exceedingly cross.
Rose Red felt both chastened and relieved. “All right,” she said to Artemis. “I take your point.” She turned to Chattan.
“I thought of the Yrtym, too, and of Gwelda and Rowan Gate and losing the Rusalka, along with many other things. I’m concerned, irritated, frustrated, and scared about a lot of things, but what I felt last night is more immediate, more personal and closer to panic or terror than worry. I feel … hunted.”
“Like Jan,” Artemis said to Chattan.
“There’s more,” said Rose Red, determined to tell it all now. “When I go through every single thing that’s happened and is happening now, the only thing connected to this fear in any way is this.” She reached into her supple leather boot and withdrew the copper knife, setting it on the table.
“Brigid made this for me during our ritual with Eurydice. She wouldn’t tell me anything about it, just to keep it close and I’d know how to use it when the time came. I feel better when I keep it near, so I sleep with it and carry it during the day.”
Kunik turned it between his fingers. “The handle is made from your oak tree, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Have you ever seen a copper knife before?”
“No. It’s beautiful, but rather strange.” Kunik handed the knife to Chattan, who ran his thumb appreciatively along the knife’s blade. “I’m glad you have this,” he said to Rose Red. “Keep it with you.” He returned it and she tucked it back in her boot.
“I will. Now it’s your turn,” she said to Artemis. “What are you not telling?”
“We’ll show you,” said Artemis. “Is everyone finished eating?”
Kunik stacked and rinsed the plates and they left the community kitchen and went out into the spring morning.