"I, myself, did not doubt that at all," I said softly. "I am sorry for what has occurred. Unfortunately I have neither control nor authority over my companions... and it has not taken me long to find that Fletcher does not either accept or understand..." I sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. "I was going to say what's *here*," tapping my hand over my heart, "but maybe it's translating what's there to others."
"He is a ridiculous man," she said in response, looking out the cave, "demanding people dance to his tune while the world falls apart around his ears." She looked back at me. "Syrana is in no state to travel. If these winds have given her back part of her soul, then it is either time or more wind that should do the trick. I can't, in good conscience, take her back now to our father." Gerda locked eyes with her sister. "If you have it in you to remember who Piter Chantris is, be assured that he is now dead, and we have burned his body back where you all were attacked. It is not as we would have wished it, Father and I, nor as Lord Benedict would have. But now that there is no promise to hold you to, I won't..."
At that, Syrana stood up. "I never promised to marry Piter."
Gerda shook her head. "You were very young, but you did promise. But it doesn't matter. I won't make you come back with me."
I stayed quiet through all of this.
"No, you won't make me," Syrana said, lip curling, showing more of her old self than since before the demon-battle.
Gerda gave her an appraising look. "I am, nevertheless, reluctant to leave you... Fletcher is dangerous, and he seems to have settled his eye on you. A man like that, no matter how kind he seems at first..." She stopped speak and turned her intense gaze upon me.
"I don't wish to interrupt...," I said, coming back out of the shadows again, "but, I can offer myself to look after you, Syrana, until such a time as you've returned to your full self." I looked quickly to Gerda. "I cannot promise to be her protectorate for the rest of our travels, as you," and I looked again at Syrana, "have reached the age where you, when back to normal, will need to begin making your own choices."
"That is enough for me," Gerda said, face neutral.
"That has to be enough," Syrana answered dryly.
Gerda turned to me and extended her right hand.
"Done," I said, clasping her wrist, noticing how cold her fingers were against mine.
"Almost. I figure I should give you this. It belonged to young Chantris, who, in spite of his seeming faults--" she gave an ironic sideways glance at her sister-- "was a fairly decent sorcerer." She pulled out a small silver flask from her breast pocket and handed it to me. "Use it sparingly. It is from the Pool of the Unicorn in Amber. It revitalizes magic users-- I know that sometimes sorcerers have to rest for days before they can cast spells after a particularly fearsome bout. Too much-- more than a couple of sips-- at a time could kill you, though."
I turned the flask over and over in my hand, noting that it wasn't much colder than her grasp. "Thank you. I wish we could have met under different circumstances."
"I wouldn't worry about it," she sighed, backing away. "I'm not any pleasanter under different circumstances. Come here, Syrana." To my amazement, Syrana obediently went to her, and Gerda whispered into her ear for a long moment before breaking apart.
"Well then. Until we meet again," Gerda said, pulling out her Trump deck.
I brought my hand up. "Safe journey," I whispered as she vanished from my sight.
*****
A short while later I turned to Syrana. "How do you feel?"
She sat back down on the stool. "Head or heart?"
"How about both?"
"My head still feels tender when I move it... my heart..." She put her hand over it, and looked at the floor. "I just-- I don't understand so much. Gerda has always been as she is. We have always fought. But she is my sister, and I am hers. I've always known that she-- that is..." she stopped speaking for a moment, grinding the palms of her hands into her head. "Growing up in Chaos, where my mother was practically a slave but I was raised under the Feldane name and crest-- well, Gerda treated me badly because I was proof of not only her father's infidelity, but the necessity of that infidelity. None of the people who followed Benedict will ever find Amber again, and the families they left behind. Gerda was only twenty when the army marched on Chaos. I know why she is the way she is. When I was ten, I snuck out of the house to visit my mother in the slums where she lived after I was weaned. I wasn't supposed to go without an escort, but she hated it when I came with the soldiers. They scared her." She examined the back of her hand. "So I went alone, sometimes. I never knew how dangerous it was, you know. Kids just don't know. This one time, though, a group of boys-- Chaosites, of course-- started following me, and they threw stones and called me names in their language. They knew I was of Amber. It didn't seem bad, I just ran-- but when I ran, they chased me, knocked me down, started hitting me.
"I thought I was going to die, or be raped, or something, but Gerda swooped in like an avenging angel, chased them off... I think maybe killed one. Then she very tenderly carried me home, where she bound my wounds, and then put me on bread and water for a week.
"That's how it is with Gerda. And now she's gone."
"Not forever," I said. "If I am to understand correctly, Amber may hold the secrets to being able to move freely through these "shadows." I paused, examining a rock on the cave floor, then tossing it towards the entrance. "I never had any brothers or sisters... but I think I know what you might feel. I can't even pretend to take the place of your sister," and I smiled, "but I would hope that if you need anything, you would only ask."
She smiled wanly. "You're a good man, Griffin."
I chuckled. "Supposedly." Standing, I looked towards the cave mouth. "I'll let you be for a while. I'm in the next cave over if you need anything."
She stood up quickly and then appeared hesitant, before blurting, "Don't go." I stopped immediately and walked back over to her. "I'm sorry..." I whispered, putting my hand on her shoulder.
She took my other hand. "What for?"
"I should not have offered to leave you alone so quickly after your sister and her men left, considering I know what having one's soul ripped from one's self."
She looked relieved, somewhat. "Yes." Syrana sat down carefully, pulling me down beside her. "The headaches should subside after a good night's rest, though we can return to the Meeting of the Winds again if you should need it."
She nodded slowly, sitting in silence for a while. Eventually, her head dropped to my shoulder, and I heard her breathing grow regular, and small snores escape her lips. Stifling a laugh, I folded my cloak around us and watched her as she slept.
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