The Springborn

SABELLA

JUNE 6, 1886

MIDDAY

T wo days later, and still we have neither seen nor heard from Yonaz. I have begun to doubt he shall ever come.

Fully adopted as Delphine’s cook and housemaid—much to my displeasure—I hang freshly laundered sheets from a clothesline in the unnaturally lush garden. Rhys carries a small basket of wooden clothes pegs and hands them to me as I need them. Branna, still a fawn, sleeps in the shade of a row of blackberry bushes. Looming behind the bushes is a wall of hedges riddled with needle-tipped, two-inch-long thorns and prickly triangular leaves. No one could pass through them without being sliced to ribbons.

Calder paces along the edge of a vegetable patch prolific enough to feed all of Miners Ridge with beans, cucumbers, and squash for a month. His plodding footsteps and grim face bear witness to his frustration. I long to see the return of his impertinent smile almost as much as I long for my own freedom.

A little bat swoops low, stirring the air inches above my head. I duck. When it circles back and brushes the top of Calder’s hair, I am tempted to run for the house. The creature must be ill or mad. A normal bat would never venture out in broad daylight.

But instead of fleeing, Calder holds out an open palm. The bat lands there and Calder grins. “I was beginning to think you’d never come,” he says.

Rhys runs toward Calder. I toss aside the sheet I’d been clutching and follow him. By the time I reach Calder, Rhys is already standing on tiptoe to peer at the bat.

“Someone you know?” I ask. I scan the entire garden, looking for Delphine but not seeing her. Good. She must be in the house.

Calder strokes the bat between its pointy little ears. “It’s Yonaz. Did no one ever tell you of his gift?”

“No, I never had occasion to ask,” I say, a little stunned—although this news should not surprise me. “I was always busy working for the innkeepers or trying not to freeze during a blizzard.”

“Fond memories,” Calder says wryly. “Yonaz can become a bat when the moon is full if he wills it. The trouble is once he changes, he’s usually stuck as a bat until the next full moon.”

“I heard a strange fluttering outside the window not long ago. It could have been him.” I lean closer and inspect the bat for similarities to Yonaz. I find none save the dark rims of his eyelids.

“Whatever medicine Sparrow gave him must have cured him quickly,” Calder says. “If we’re lucky, this means help is on the way.”

The bat Yonaz nods emphatically. Rhys laughs and says, “Do that again.” Yonaz obliges.

“Is Robbie coming?” Calder asks our visitor.

The bat dips its head.

“Today?” I ask, and this time, the bat shakes his head.

“Tomorrow?” Calder asks.

The bat nods. Hope floods my soul.

“We’ll be ready,” Calder says. “I wish you could stay, but you should leave before Delphine sees you. She will not have forgotten your gift, and we don’t want her to capture you or suspect anything.”

Without hesitation, Yonaz takes off. We watch him fly until his silhouette fades into the blue sky.

I meet Calder’s gaze. The lively glint has returned to his eyes. My cheeks hurt from smiling so broadly.

“You’re going to have to go back to looking miserable or Delphine will most certainly suspect something,” Calder says.

“With all the cleaning I’ve been assigned, that should not be difficult,” I say. But this turns out to be untrue. Throughout the rest of the day, I must stop myself from smiling again and again. I don’t know how it will happen, but soon we will be free and safe. I’ll return to the fond company of Sparrow, Robbie, Cleona, and the boys. I’ll sleep for a full week in my glorious soft bed at the farm.

The hours pass slowly. Afternoon leans into evening. Calder stacks wood beside the fireplace. His ability to wait calmly is enviable. I feel coiled tightly as a spring and can hardly keep my hands steady as I struggle to slice potatoes and carrots for supper with a butter knife.

“Hurry,” I whisper to the universe.