Kate Bush's Arc

Chapter 17 of 21

They came down the north slope in gray light. Kate carried the back poles. Mr. Echo carried the front. Marrow walked ahead with salt. Will lay in the sling with the jar of his hum against his chest. The cat rode on his heart. Kate watched her brother's face go thinner with every step. His fingers were losing their edges. If the hum stayed in the jar much longer, he would keep fading until what she carried wasn't Will at all. Marrow stopped at a sagging house set back from the trail. The porch had fallen in on one side. Windows were broken. "Creakfall," Marrow said. "Roof still holds. We get him inside before full sun." They lifted Will over the split step and set the sling on the floorboards. Mr. Echo watched the door. The collie lay across the threshold. An old woman was already inside, kneeling by the cold hearth with a satchel open. Kate had seen her once in the village, tending plants for the dead. Elara Rootwhisper did not look up. "Set him near me. Head toward the wall." Kate obeyed. Elara touched Will's wrist and frowned. "His voice is out of him too long. Give me the jar." Kate held it against her chest. "If I open it here, the thing that hunts him will come." "Not if he swallows it fast," Elara said. She took two small bottles from the satchel and set them on the boards. One glowed peach. One glowed yellow with a thin thread of light curled inside. "The peach one holds him solid long enough to drink. The yellow one ties the hum to his blood so it can't be taken out again. You pour the jar into his mouth between them. You have one breath to do it." She looked at Kate for the first time. "A witch I know sent the yellow. She owes a child a kept promise. She said this counts toward it." Kate uncorked the peach bottle and tipped it past Will's teeth. His skin firmed. His chest rose on its own. Marrow crouched at the door with her hand on the collie's back. Mr. Echo lifted his brass box. Kate broke the wax seal on the jar. The hum spilled out warm against her palm, and she poured it fast into Will's open mouth. He swallowed. Elara pressed the yellow bottle to his lips at once. He drank. The thread inside the glass unwound and vanished under his tongue. Will coughed. Then he said, "Kate." His voice was his own. No echo. No borrowed shape. Outside, something scraped along the porch boards and stopped. It did not come in. It did not leave. Kate set the empty jar down on the floor and did not pick it up again. Will was whole for now. The hunter had followed the sound to the door.