Marrow Fen's Arc

Chapter 10 of 11

Marrow said the name a second time, low, testing it against the air. Lucy. The girl's eyes tracked the sound. Her outline held while Marrow spoke and softened when Marrow stopped. That was the problem laid bare. The name lived in Marrow's mouth and nowhere else. The flask was empty in Marrow's coat, the last drop already gone. The way home was hours of open country, and Marrow could not walk and speak a name without pause for that long. Marrow looked around the hollow. The swallow watched from the high branch. The raccoon had gone. The butterfly still rested on the back of the girl's hand, wings folding slow. The cherry tree stood over them, blossoms heavy though the season was wrong. Marrow needed something to hold the name in. Something the girl could carry against her skin so the name did not have to keep leaving Marrow's throat. The empty flask was the only vessel Marrow had. Marrow uncorked it and held it close to the girl's mouth. "Say it," Marrow whispered. "Even without sound. Shape it." The girl's lips moved. Marrow spoke the name into the flask at the same moment, aloud, and pushed the stopper down hard. The glass did not glow. Marrow did not know if it had worked. The girl was still fading, her collarbones going soft under the nightdress. A black cat came into the hollow from the far side of the tree. It stepped over the roots and sat by the girl's hip. It looked at Marrow, then at the flask, then climbed onto the girl's chest and lay down. The girl's breathing steadied under its weight. Her hand stopped going through the grass. The cat did not move. Marrow understood what it was doing. Holding her down while Marrow finished the work. Marrow pressed the flask into the girl's palm and closed her fingers around it. Then Marrow uncorked it right against her ear. Marrow said the name once more, clearly, and tipped the flask as if pouring. Nothing came out that Marrow could see. But the girl's chest filled. Her hair settled. The soft place at her knuckles firmed. She looked at Marrow and mouthed the name back, and this time a thin sound came with it, half a whisper, her own. The cat stood and stepped down. The butterfly lifted off her hand. The swallow left the branch and cut south, the way they had come. The girl sat up on her own. She held the flask against her ribs like a small warm thing. Marrow got to their feet and helped her stand. She was light, but she was there. Marrow turned toward the long walk home. One girl, named and held, to bring back to a family Marrow had not yet found on the board. The rest of the names waited. Marrow started walking, and the girl walked beside them.