The Springborn

CALDER

I cannot sleep for worrying, and who wants to stay up all night alone? But it isn’t just that. In my bones, there’s a feeling of wrongness. A strange tightness sits in my chest and shortens my breath. It all started after one of the most vivid dreams I’ve ever had.

I cross the hall and let myself into Robbie’s bedroom. A pair of his cast off trousers tangles around my feet and I almost trip onto his bed.

“Robbie,” I whisper, gripping him by his bony shoulder and giving him a firm shake. He grunts and swats at my hand, but I hold tighter and shake harder. “Wake up. Something isn’t right.”

His eyes flutter open. In the dark, they look solid black, like the eyes of an animal. “What?”

“Get up. We’re going to check on Sabella.”

“Ugh. Are you joking? It’s the middle of the night.” He pulls his blankets up to cover his head. I yank them down again.

“Get up anyway.”

He mumbles something impolite, pounds a fist on the mattress, and sits up. “I’m only getting up because I know you’ll pester me until I die otherwise.”

“Correct.” I pick up his trousers and toss them onto his blanket-covered legs. “Get dressed. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

Ten minutes later, we’re stumbling through the woods by lantern light. There’s neither conversation nor complaining. We both know it’s best to move through the trees as quietly as possible in the hours between dusk and dawn. We’ve had our share of nocturnal adventures, Rob and I. But I’m not reminiscing about the good times now. My current thoughts are fixed on a certain girl who grows antlers, and a dream I had of her during my brief stint of sleep earlier.

In the dream, I saw her hiding in a mine tunnel with a tiny baby clutched to her chest. The remembered image sends a mighty shiver through me. If my dream is true—and my dreams often are—things have gone from bad to catastrophic. It would mean she tampered with the blasted basket.

Which, of course, would be my fault.

Robbie breathes hard behind me. I hadn’t realized how fast I was walking or that I’ve also started to pant. We can’t rest now, though. I hold the lantern high as the ground slopes downward. Gravity helps us descend the rocky hillside. The trees grow sparse in this area near the mine, thinned mercilessly by the company’s axes and saws.

A glimpse of movement stops me in my tracks. Robbie skids and collides with my back. As he rights himself, I squint into the distance. Two figures creep toward the fence that encloses the newest part of the mine: one is broad-shouldered and stocky, and the other is smaller and cloaked in black. I have no doubt these silhouettes are Sabella’s father and Sabella herself.

Instinct commands me to be still and wait, but my heart urges me to run and whisk Sabella to safety. This time, I disobey my heart. Robbie sets a hand on my shoulder in a gesture of support. I glance at his face, and he nods to acknowledge that it’s right that we came, and right to bide our time here.

My body buzzes as if it’s stuffed with a thousand frantic bees, but I stand frozen on the hillside as the two figures slink through the gate and hurry toward the black maw of the mine.