the firestarters always get the burns
and the good guys never get the girl
I’ve been to Hyaline for Terhi - old habits die hard. I wanted her to be born in that same spot that I’d found for her sister, for her brother; thus I made the journey and figured the Cove would still be standing upon my return. But I’m supposedly a queen now, a title I don’t think I want to get used to. My duty is back here, and so after a day’s rest, I nudge the filly and the both of us make the slow journey home.
She sees things, things that aren’t there. At first I had hoped it might be related to my knowing things before they happen, but deep down I know it’s just not true. In her fever she has wicked dreams, I have to calm her at night and press her close to me. And yet it seems that besides her uncontrolled body temperature and the hallucinations that come with it, no other symptoms present themselves. I worry if she’s having headaches, but she’s too young to tell me, and she doesn’t seem to react to light and sound too much.
And so we move, back towards what will be our home for another year or so. As we enter, the days-old palomino girl makes a whimpering sound and for the moment, I do not worry, thinking she saw or heard something that doesn’t exist outside her mind. But then I hear the screams too, echoing far away. It’s Dawn - and I can’t help but smile and shake my head. I touch my youngest daughter’s head, whispering to her soothingly. ”Not to worry, she’ll pull through.” I am too far away to help her, too slow with the filly by my side, but I make my way over anyway. When I arrive, I spy Clayton, and greet them both with a smile. Had I not just had a baby myself I could have been here in time, but that’s the way the world works. ”Congratulations, Dawn.” I tell her, then add softly, ”They’re like their father, but I know you can handle that.” A warning perhaps, to look out for them. I don’t think he’ll be here in time to help raise them; but I can’t help but smile at the idea of a polar bear walking around the Cove with two lion cubs in tow.
To move the conversation forward and not have it linger on the absent father, I nudge my constellation-marked girl. ”This is Terhi. Go on, say hello.” I do not name them; Dawn and Clayton and Austra and Isilme - I’ve heard Clay ask, and I’d be way out of league if I spoke before the mother.