Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Guiding Hand

“All emotions are pure which gather you and lift you up; that emotion is impure which seizes only one side of your being and so distorts you.”

            “I didn’t want to discomfit you, but I thought you’d rather appreciate my lap instead of the snow.” Colin’s soft, soothing voice sounded in her ears, a low concerned murmur somewhere close by but strangely overhead, the words seemingly slow, loosely connected, the sentence a fragmented thought as her brain struggled to comprehend its meaning. She opened her eyes, but closed them almost immediately; a bright light stung them with a strange pressure. She groaned softly and reopened her eyes, but this time there was something blocking out the unbearable brightness. Gradually, the indistinct shadow became clearer, finally settling into the relieved features of Colin. And then, as if a hazy film which had muddled her senses had been suddenly lifted from her face, reality came surging back, first the bliss that was her first taste of freedom that made her heart leap with momentary euphoria, then the pang of loneliness, then the stinging slap of her quarrel with Colin which lingered for an unpleasantly exaggerated moment before the piercing stab of her internal torture, the agony of the past, and finally the cold, abhorrent void of emptiness, of nothingness, and for one wild moment her mind nearly submitted to its icy grip as it groped for her heart which fluttered madly in protest and she resisted its greedily deceiving seizing clutches with passionate effort and her eyes fluttered open again at the sound of Colin’s worried voice. He was calling her name in a breathless whisper though it could have been louder, her mind so resistant to acclimate.

            “…Colin…” She felt her lips form the word with that same faint pleasure but was quite sure that it hadn’t been she who had spoken, the word coming out as an ugly rasp that sounded nothing like her own voice. But it must have been her, for Colin was repeating her name again in anxious response, and she was certain that he was the only other person in the vicinity. “Colin…” She tried again, concentrating on the formation of the word, making sure the utterance issued from her mouth. A little better, more recognizable. Slightly more appeased, Mirith opened her eyes fully.

            “You gave me quite a scare,” Colin was saying in evident relief at her wellbeing. “Are you all right?”

            “Yes…” she whispered back. “Just tired…”

            “I expect you would be,” Colin agreed fervently. “But I’m glad you’re okay…Sorry for, you know…” he added pointedly, flushing slightly.

            But for once Mirith didn’t care. “It’s okay, I don’t mind…Actually,” she admitted tentatively, “you’re right, I do prefer you over the ground…”

            Colin smiled fleetingly. “Are you in a fit state to stand?”

            “Let’s find out,” Mirith replied with ironic sanguinity.

            Colin gently helped her to her feet, standing cautiously behind her should she fall, and sure enough, no sooner had he released her delicate hand, she barely managed more than two wobbly steps before the inviting ground was inches away from her face; Colin had instinctively grabbed her around the middle. And all at once in a briefly dizzying tumult, she found herself staring into his kind, magnanimous face and she realized he had swept her off her feet and was holding her bridal-style. And to her immense surprise, an unforeseen smile was tugging playfully with the corners of her parted lips, and he was smiling warmly back, though his eyes scrutinized her pale face with concern. But she found that she didn’t mind that either.

            “Thank you…” she breathed.

            He nodded in appreciative silence, dropping carefully to his knees as he reached out and laid a hand across her dampened brow, brushing back the loose strands of hair that fallen over her face, finding their way into the corners of her mouth and eyes. “No wonder you didn’t feel well. You’re warm,” he noted in a grim murmur.

            Mirith groaned. She couldn’t afford to be taken ill with fever now of all times and places, not when she was just barely familiar with the wondrous anomalies of grass and trees, the sun and its warmth and light, and all the smells and sounds of the real world! She desperately wanted to spring to her feet and launch herself into this brave, new world, to see and learn and know all those many more wild imaginings of greater minds, but as reality sank in, exhaustion swept over her and she fought to keep her eyes open as Colin shouldered their belongings and carried her off into the sleeping forest.

            She hung on to consciousness with such intensity that her body physically began to resist the efforts of her mind and she shivered and shook in Colin’s arms so that he held her tighter. She looked up at him, unfocusedly staring at his jaw set with masked worry as he sized up the world with his hard, gleaming eyes as if he was ready to go up against anything and everything in his determination to protect her. But as glanced nervously down at her, the lip he was barring behind his teeth unfurled into a somber, assured smile and she managed a sighing smile of her own before she was unable to resist temptation any longer and allowed herself to be placated by the comforting darkness of sleep, but this darkness wasn’t frightening for as she slipped into a new kind of dream, it was full of Colin’s warm, open face, his laugh, his gentle smile and the touch that sent pleasurable tremors up her spine…

            When she next awoke, it was dusk and there was a blazing warmth on her left side. She didn’t bother to exert herself enough to find out what that familiar sensation was until it became uncomfortable. Wrestling with herself for a moment she found that she was lying alone in a small clearing beside a fire, a faint musky scent tingling in her nose. She tried to locate the aroma but as there were no trees nearby, her sluggish mind couldn’t decipher where it was coming from. She sat up and something tickled as it slipped off her shoulders; Colin’s cloak lay crumpled over her legs smelling pleasingly of spring. She wanted to breathe in that heavenly fragrance until she was giddy, but bending forward made her back ache so she grudgingly lay back on her own cloak awaiting Colin’s return and pretending that the heat from the fire was really him lying next to her instead…

            A cool cloth swathed her forehead but did nothing to quell the fires raging through her veins so that she convulsed and thrashed about, releasing her magic in involuntary spurts, trying to rid herself of the licking flames while a distantly familiar voice called out to her, sometimes a low, anxious cry, other times a reproachful warning and less often a consoling murmur in her ear while a gentle pressure gripped her hand…

            At one point she wondered whether the intense fires coming from within her had only been part of fevered dream for after she resurfaced from a particularly delirious bout, she was so cold she felt as though her lungs were being compressed in an icy cage so that she fearfully gasped for breath and clawed at the sticky fabric surrounding her in a constricting cocoon until the gentle pressure returned to her hands. She felt herself being extracted from it and she was so thankful to be free of the cage that she didn’t care about the cold anymore…though there was a sudden warmth against her chest…

            She was lying down again but the temperature around her was not uncomfortable and she opened her eyes blearily to find Colin lying asleep beside her, his back facing her. She smiled and knew that the fever had broken. Then she curled up in the nest of blankets and snuggled against his side without vacillation. Not too much longer she was aware of soft zephyrs brushing over the top of her head and opened one curious eye to see Colin’s face inches from her own, breathing deeply and evenly in his contented sleep, one arm flung above his head, the other over her hip. She didn’t move it away. And then Mirith fell into the stillest sleep of her life.

            They unblushingly packed up camp a few hours later in hopes of finding proper lodging in a nearby village by nightfall. It took Mirith a few seconds to realize that she still had Colin’s cloak draped over her own when she saw him trekking uphill, braced against the wind as he clinched his arms, shivering. She smiled sadly and removed the cloak, passing her hand over its length, releasing hot steam from her palm. She caught up to him and quietly fastened the clasp at his shoulder. She heard his soft intake of breath but as she made to remove her hands, he grasped them suddenly and held them there for a moment in fond silence as they watched the faded watercolor blue sky bleed into the grayed heavens and darken as the sun gradually settled in amongst the higher clouds. Then, without warning, he yanked her playfully by the wrists, pulling her onto his back. Giggling, she clasped her hands about his neck as he hoisted her into a more comfortable position and then he ran the length of the hill, breathless laughter skimming their winter-and-sentiment-reddened cheeks as they left it ringing on the hill and took off across the melting plain.

            Mirith contemplated her situation as Colin slowed to a winded plod and she made to disengage herself but he shook his head and held her more firmly still. Sighing, she conceded and with a wry satisfied smirk rested her cheek against his shoulder, returning to her thoughtful reflection.

            Just a few days ago she had been the epitome of woe, the lure of contempt, the attraction of mockery, scorn and disregard, the first to be blamed and the last to be forgiven, remembered or commiserated. She had been a straggler, a pilferer, an urchin lurking in the shadows and a disheveled rogue. She was still all those things, they were forever parts of her being, but now she felt like a different person; it was amazing how a change of scenery and a little companionship could cultivate such alterations. She wondered if Colin were to leave her as she was right now and never return would she slip back into the old, wretched ways she so despised and found herself already knowing the answer for she could feel her poor broken heart being pierced by the mere thought and she knew that it would take needle upon gleaming needle and countless spools of thread to stitch up that long-opened wound she had pathetically pushed to the back of her mind in hopes that it would simply vanish and the dull, constant aching pangs would become something like a laughable memory.

            Listening to Colin’s harsh breathing, she raised her head slightly and mumbled sleepily, “Why don’t you put me down? I can walk for myself, you know.”

            “I didn’t want you to tire,” he replied. “Besides, if your tone is any indication, you’d probably relapse into fever again…and I don’t like seeing you suffer so…”

            Mirith suppressed a chuckle with difficulty. “It’s so silly,” she thought bitterly. “It could never happen…I’m too coarse for someone like…” She shook her head violently, squeezing her eyes shut; she couldn’t allow herself to think such things, they’d make her vulnerable, weaken her if she lowered her mentality to accept such absurdities as possible realities…

            “Do you hurt somewhere?” asked Colin worriedly, his forehead creasing as he felt her clench his cloak in shaking fists.

            “…no…” she lied easily, letting her hands go slack.

            “Where?” he murmured, his eyes downcast.

            Mirith didn’t answer for a while. Then, as they neared the edge of the snow- covered overhang, she quietly drew her hand from Colin’s shoulder, letting it hover in the air between them for a moment as if trying to decide its placement before laying it over her heart. They came to stop at the rim of the precipice and Colin gently lowered her to her feet, holding out a steadying hand as she straightened up still cradling her heart.

            “Why don’t we get something warm to drink?” he offered gesturing largely to the snowy valley below them where the glittering lights of a town beckoned them on.

            When Mirith didn’t respond, he reached across himself and guided her other hand away from her breast, flipping it gently over into his own so that her fingertips rested loosely on his palms. Slowly, she raised her eyes up to meet his tender gaze and nodded.

            “That would be nice…” she whispered, her eyes glistening.

            He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brushed the tears from her lashes with a smooth thumb.

            “Ready?”

            She nodded again and grasped his hand tightly in her own. Then they ran forward and disappeared over the edge of the cliff. They held onto each other as they glided down into the low-dipping vale, carried by their magic but buoyed by their bond. Mirith’s dress floated about her as they silently touched down, their feet sinking into the shin-deep snow. And hand-in-hand they began to make their way towards the far-off lights of the town.