My Voice for My Heart

Chapter 18: Full Moon

Keela

My days developed a rhythm. I woke up, looking for my swans, collected thistle, mashed, separated, wove. I remembered to eat when I felt dizzy, and I soaked my hands in the water. As the summer went by, the water warmed up and my hands seemed to bloat, so even though I had more time to stay awake and weave, my fingers wouldn't obey my commands and by mid-afternoon, I couldn't spin a single thread.

My swans didn't come every day. In the beginning, they seemed to appear every evening. I'd watch the sky for their shadows and almost like they'd heard me, they'd appear. The first night they didn't appear, I didn't sleep, imagining that they'd been hurt, or killed.

Or that they'd forgotten.

I hoped they'd get used to me, that they'd let me approach them, but every appearance was like the first time they'd seen me. They were nervous, and intrigued, but stayed away. My fingers never touched their silky looking feathers. The closest to their touch that I felt was the air stirring over me when they beat their wings and took flight.

I was grateful for my cool cave as the summer heated up. It was dark and it kept from rotting the berries and mushrooms that I collected as food. I had made traps and snared some rabbits and a squirrel, but the meat didn't keep long. I had no idea what I'd do when it was winter and the berries didn't grow, and the animals would be harder to find. I didn't know how I'd survive the cold, how I'd find food.

I eyed the steadily growing skeins of thread. I didn't take time to make the shirts, I needed the thread, and the distaff wouldn't grow through the fall. I would use the winter months to weave.

In the heat of midday I could nap and I could hear the trickle of water through the rocks and it soothed me to sleep even if my dreams didn't let me sleep for long. I saw Maeve's flame shrouded face, heard her voice, saw the men's confusion and their fear. I saw myself cowering behind the oak, and I awoke panting and gasping, glad that my body ached because I was so disappointed in myself. The pain almost helped, but it still didn't hurt as much as my guilt.

I stared up at the full moon night. The woods were shadowed, but I could see well enough to walk around if I wanted to. My swans hadn't appeared in four days. I'd fallen asleep waiting for them, awaking on the ground and when I realized that they hadn't appeared, I'd crawled back to the cave and stared bleary-eyed at the sky.

The sky was cloudless, and I entertained myself by thinking of the men, reliving my happiest moments with them, letting myself feel the only kiss they'd ever given me. I pressed my unfamiliar fingers to my lips, my eyes popping open when I heard a squawk. I jumped to my feet, running for the meadow, trying my best to be silent, but my excitement and relief that they were alive made me trip and crash.

I heard the noises they made as they waddled through the grass and smiled before tumbling out of the woods. For graceful animals, they had the most ungraceful calls.

I stopped at the edge of the meadow, and slowly sat on my knees. My face ached. At first I thought I had cut myself with a branch, but I was happy, smiling. They stopped when they saw me, turning as one to face me. I held my breath, letting only my eyes move, taking in each of their beautiful bodies.

Their images blurred and shimmered and I lifted my face to my hands, thinking I was crying and meaning to wipe away my tears. But that wasn't it. I rubbed my eyes, but their forms were still unfocused.

Until they weren't.

They straightened, lengthened. In the place of wings were arms, and webbed feet were legs. The magic that had changed them, returned them as they had been.

"Keela."

Balthair's voice was a net, catching me, and making me stumble to my feet. They met me before I could reach them. Their hands embracing me. I felt their lips on my hands, my neck, my hair, my face.