Orin Wanderwood's Arc

Chapter 23 of 26

Orin lifted Lily in the blanket. Her head fell against his shoulder. Kate took the lantern and went first up the cellar stair. The pink and gold color Elara had put in Lily's mouth was fading again. They had hours, not the two days Lady Moon had promised. They were three steps from the passage mouth when the air went cold. Lady Moon stood in the tent's shadow. Her bare feet did not touch the stone. Her hair moved in a wind Orin could not feel. "Put her down," Lady Moon said. "No," Orin said. "She is mine until the debt is paid." "You said a name. I owe you a name." "Speak it now, then. Or set her back in the tent." Kate's knuckles went white on the lantern. Lily's mouth was gray again. Orin could feel the thread. It ran from Lily's chest into the dark like a wet string. If he walked out the cellar door, the string would drag her back before dawn. He had spent years reading lies before they finished. Lady Moon had not lied to him once. She had told him plain: a name he must someday speak. She had not said whose. He looked at her face. The eyes were tired under the anger. Old tired. The kind that came from walking a long time without stopping. "Someone took your name," Orin said. Lady Moon did not answer. That was answer enough. "You want a name back. You want yours." "Speak," she said. He thought of the low window. The morning light. The woman singing over the plum blossoms. He thought of everything he had walked toward for years and did not have yet. He had one guess. He had heard it once in a whisper down here, when she thought he slept. He had marked it and said nothing. "Diana," Orin said. The cellar went white for a breath. The lantern flame stood straight up. Lady Moon's mouth opened. No sound came out at first. Then a small dry sob, like something long held. The thread at Lily's chest snapped. Orin felt it go. Lily drew a full breath against his neck, warm this time. Lady Moon's bare feet touched the stone. She looked at her own hand as if it belonged to her. "Take her," she said. "Go." "The creature," Kate said. "Above." "Gone north. I called it there. Consider that paid too." Orin did not move yet. "You could pull her back tomorrow." "I could not." Lady Moon's voice was flat and final. "The debt is closed." He carried Lily up the stair. Kate followed with the light. At the cellar door, Orin looked back once. Lady Moon was already walking into the passage, into her own dark, saying the name to herself like she was learning to hold it. Outside, Marrow stood in the wet grass with the dog at her leg. She saw Lily breathing and lowered her knife. "Where now," Marrow said. Orin did not know. But the string was cut, and Lily was his to carry.