Finding the North Star

CH 8 Reunion in the Woods

Becky woke shivering.

The light rain from the evening before had turned to a steady drizzle and everything felt damp, even under the protective cover of the overhang. The fire only gave off a thin thread of smoke and was useless.

She brought her head out from beneath the blankets in a cautious test. It was a shock of coldness. Her exhaled breath lingered as a fine mist in front of her face, which made all that she saw in a frail, half light such as a person might see in a dream. She turned over bringing her knees up at the same time in a tight ball, tucking the blankets closer as she did. She was about to duck into the little nest when she saw Mary.

The older girl stood up to her knees in the pool, her long hair hanging loosely over her shoulders and down the small of her back so that she almost looked clothed. But she wasn't at all. Mary had always changed in the dark in Becky's old room, so Becky — never having seen her without clothes — looked away, this time retreating beneath the blankets. However curiosity wouldn't let her go back to sleep and she had to peek again.

Mary began to sing and as she did she washed herself in a way that did not suggest bathing in any normal sense. It seemed to Becky more like a ritual as if The Castle pool was some special, sacred place. Again and again she scooped up the water running it down her hair in a stroking motion, then dipped down to immerse as much of her body as was possible in the shallow pool. She seemed oblivious to the cold as she rubbed her belly in a circular motion. Finally, after offering some water to the sky in raised cupped hands then allowing it to trickle gently down, she turned and stepped out of the pool. Her eyes were lowered as she picked her way over the rocks. Becky took this chance to turn away. She lay for a while thinking she had witnessed something she was not meant to, it being weird and otherworldly; finally falling into a light doze where the events got mixed up with other dreams so that when she awoke she wasn't sure if what she witnessed was real or not.

Her awakening, when it came, was rather abrupt. She was aware of being shaken, and when she opened one bleary eye, Mary – dressed now – stood over her. It was still not fully light.

"C'mon Becky, we have to get moving."

Mary quickly made her way over to their bundles and began furiously packing, stuffing things randomly, trying to get everything to fit.

Becky lay there, summoning the courage to face the greater cold outside her blankets.

"Go and wash your face at the waterfall to wake yourself up," Mary called as Becky groggily pulled herself to seated, "and fill the flasks while you are at it. Full to the top mind . . . I don't know how long till we get some clean water."

Still Becky sat. She had never been swift in the morning — Mary knew that just as she knew Becky would eventually do her part in helping.

Instead of just giving her a little time Mary got more annoyed. "I can't do everything you know. I already put water on the fire but it must be stamped out before anyone sees. And all this," she waved her hands over the packs, "needs lugging out again and I'm exhausted. We should have left the farm earlier, then we wouldn't be here." She looked at the walls of rock as if they were closing in on her. "I don't like it. We have to leave."

Becky was cold. The persistent rain was annoying and even the horses looked miserable. She wanted to be back at the farm, cosy and looking forward to a hot breakfast in front of the fire. She thought of her darling Kip curled up on the hearth rug and she felt like crying. Hamish was right, they should've stayed. Everything would have been sorted out soon enough.