Aria Blackwing's Arc

Chapter 21 of 24

Morning came clear and cold. Aria set out tea and two cups on the plank table. Derek stood by the window, watching the path through the trees. The bar was off the door for the first time in weeks. The knock came before noon. Aria opened the door. The old man stood on the porch with his hat in his hands. In daylight he looked smaller. His white hair was combed. His cardigan was buttoned wrong at the bottom. He had brought a small cloth bundle held against his chest. "You came," Aria said. "I said I would." She stepped aside. He crossed the threshold slowly, as if the floor might refuse him. Derek nodded once from the hearth. The old man nodded back. He gave his name as Eldric Thorne and set the bundle on the table. Inside was a small carved perch, smooth from use, and a tin of seed. "For the birds," he said. "They were hers. I couldn't burn them." Aria lifted the perch. It fit her palm. She looked up at him and her breath caught. His eyes were green. The same green as hers. The bones of his face sat under his skin the way her mother's had. She held the perch tighter and said nothing. Derek saw it too. She felt him see it. He looked at the old man, then at her, and his mouth opened and closed. He carried the tea to the table instead and set the cups down carefully. "Sit," Derek said. "It's warm by the fire." Eldric sat. Aria showed him the owl on its shelf, the raven in its box, the hawk in the pen Derek had built in the north corner. He watched her hands as she lifted the splint on the owl's wing. His own hands twitched, wanting to help, not daring. "You do it gentle," he said. "My mother taught me the start of it," Aria said. Her voice held steady. "I taught myself the rest." He looked at her then, quick, then away. He did not ask her mother's name. She did not offer it. The question sat between them on the table with the tea. He stayed an hour. He mended a torn strip of linen while she worked. When he stood to leave, he laid a hand on the doorframe as if to steady himself. "May I come again," he asked. "Yes," Aria said. She watched him walk back into the trees. Derek came to stand behind her. He did not speak. He did not have to. "I saw it," she said. "I know." "I don't want to ask him yet." "Then don't." She closed the door and left the bar off. The perch sat on the table where he had placed it. The sanctuary had taken in another wounded thing, and this one she did not yet know how to mend.