Rebecka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 44 of 66

Rebecka rode the bay south until the sun cleared the ridge. The doll's pieces lay behind her in the ditch, but Ninka's hair was still in her coat pocket. She had cut it from the doll's chest before Aiyana broke the neck. A braid the length of her finger, tied at both ends with red thread. As long as it stayed whole, any student left alive could find a new pot, a new wax body, and start again. She reined in at a bend and pulled the braid out. It was warm. Not from her pocket. Warm the way a coal is warm under ash. She swore under her breath and closed her fist around it. Lark caught up on foot, breathing hard. "Something's reading it," she said. "Then burn it here." "Open flame on the road. A rider a mile off sees the smoke." She looked at the sky. "And I won't burn my daughter's hair in a ditch. It has to be done right." Aiyana rode up beside her. "The cave is half a day. That's half a day for someone to latch on." Rebecka slid down and led the bay off the road into a fold of dry ground behind a stand of scrub. She pulled her pack open and took out the small dark pot her mother had pressed on her before she rode out, wrapped in oilcloth. The runes on its belly were the same ones Katia had used before, when they burned the three dolls. Rebecka had not expected to need it again. She set the pot on flat stone. She broke a stick for the wand. Aiyana struck the fire inside with flint so the flame stayed low and hid in the pot's mouth. Lark stood watch on the rise. Rebecka laid the braid on her palm. "I name what this is," she said. "My daughter's hair. Taken to bind her. I take it back." She dropped the braid into the pot. The flame turned white and climbed the inside of the wall. It did not rise past the rim. She stirred once. Her hand seized. A pain ran up her arm to her jaw and locked her teeth. She kept stirring. The white light went out. The pot was empty except for a smear of ash. She sat down hard. Aiyana put a hand on her shoulder. "Anyone holding a thread of her just felt that cord snap," Rebecka said. "They know she's not reachable from a distance now." "Then they come themselves," Aiyana said. "Let them." She wrapped the pot back in the oilcloth and stowed it. Her arm still shook. She swung up onto the bay and turned the horse toward the ridge. Whatever came for Ninka next would have to walk to her door.