Rebecka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 10 of 66

Rebecka came back through the yard with the compass still warm in her fist. The north pines were empty. The east group had run. But the true problem waited above her, not in the trees. The luminous dome over the house had thinned. She could see the porch lantern through it now, where an hour ago the glass of light had been solid. She found her daughter in the front room, standing under the center beam with both arms raised. Ninka was ten years old. She was holding a house-sized shield up with her hands and her mind. Sweat ran down her temple into the collar of her tunic. Her lips moved in a count Rebecka could not hear. The flower crown in her hair had wilted against her scalp. "Baby," Rebecka said. "Look at me." "If I look I drop it," Ninka said. Her voice was thin. "Two more hours. Maybe." Dawn was four hours off. Rebecka did the math and hated it. Wings moved at the door. Lark Brightwind ducked under the frame, sword still on his back, his huge wings folding tight so they would not brush the walls. The fae warrior had come three weeks ago from his village to fight beside them. Ninka had screamed the first time she saw his wings light up. He had knelt in the dirt until she stopped crying. Now she did not even turn her head at him. "She won't last," Rebecka said. Lark looked up at the shimmer above the beam. "No." "The wards are dead. If she drops it, the house is open." He reached into the pouch at his belt and took out a small bottle. The liquid inside was pale violet and full of slow, drifting light. "From the elders. One dose. It gives back what magic burns." "Why didn't you say you had it?" "I had one," he said. "I was saving it for the wall breach." Rebecka took the bottle. She looked at her daughter's shaking arms. She looked at the thinning dome. She uncorked it. "Ninka. Drink." Ninka opened her mouth without lowering her hands. Rebecka tipped the elixir past her teeth. Ninka swallowed. Her eyes went wide, then steady. The shimmer above the beam brightened. It climbed back to the hard, clean light it had held at dusk. The porch lantern vanished behind it again. Ninka let out a long breath. "I can hold to sunrise. I can hold past it." Rebecka set the empty bottle on the table. Her hands were shaking now, not her daughter's. Lark watched the dome. "That was the last one." "I know." "The wall breach comes tonight or tomorrow." "I know." She picked up her bow. Five arrows in the quiver. A shield that would hold till morning. And no potion left for the next dark.