The Springborn

CALDER

D elphine descends the stairs slowly, stiffly. I can hardly believe this is the same woman who bandaged my scrapes and tucked me into bed with a kiss when I was younger. I cannot imagine this Delphine laughing in Yonaz’s arms on a picnic blanket as the little boy versions of Robbie and me chase butterflies and catch toads. There is no warmth in her face. She might as well be sculpted of marble.

“You could make this easy,” Delphine says as she pulls her chair close to mine. She sits and leans toward me. I try not to meet her gaze. There is too much power in it, and I have never been more tired.

Although I’m exhausted, I have enough vigor left to be furious. I stare at the fire and say, “Easy is the road to hell, so I understand how that might appeal to something who steals and terrorizes children. I, however, am not interested in being your accomplice.”

She laughs. “Such wit. But be careful. I do not need you to accomplish my plan, Calder. You’re nothing but an implement of torture in my hands. If you cause too much trouble, you’ll find yourself in a shallow grave. Is your antlered paramour good with a shovel?”

“Who are you?” I blurt. “What happened to the kind, motherly woman you were? The bright, giving woman Yonaz adored?” She was not always with us, but when she was, she made our lives a joy with her affection and generosity.

“I am many things, as all women are. You are too much of a child to understand.” She leans back in the chair and examines her fingernails. “Do you think the others will come looking for you soon, or must I venture out again?”

A shiver runs down my spine and spreads from there to chill every inch of my skin. “What do you need them for?”

“I commend you for your curiosity, but you will have to wait and see.”

“I’ll make a bargain with you. If you release the others, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of my days. You know I’m clever. We could make quite a mark on the world together, you and I.”

She leans toward me again. She places her palms on my cheeks and says, “Oh, sweet boy. I do confess there was a time when such an offer from a handsome, winged gentleman would have made me swoon. But the past is the past. I am interested only in the future.” She kisses my forehead like she did when I was small, but the kiss is colder than a snowflake on my skin. My anger slips and fear takes its place.

What could she be planning? I feel certain that some of us Springborn will not live to see the results of her scheme. I think I dreamed as much, but I sure as blazes do not want to remember that now. The situation is distressing enough.

The fire hisses and pops in the hearth. Delphine stands and does something to the vine-restraint to make it loosen. She pulls me to my feet, and when my legs buckle, she clutches me to her. Just as I remember, she smells of the forest: its pines and birches, its rare flowers. The scent makes me ache for the mother she was to me.

“Please, Delphine,” I say. “It isn’t too late to stop this. Come back and be a family with us. We can all start over and be happy together.”

She shoves me to the floor and my heart breaks. The vine tightens around me again, a cocoon of slick greenery.

“Sleep,” she says. She walks away. I listen to her footsteps on the steps, then the soft thud of a door closing upstairs.

I rest my head on the cool stone of the floor. I’m tempted to weep, but I cannot waste time grieving or trying to unravel the mystery of Delphine. There are people upstairs who need my help to escape before she can do something worse to them than holding them captive.