After cleaning the blood from my hands and apron, I go over to a woman who looks too sick or weak to walk. Maria and I try to feed her, but she is old. Her eyes sink into their sockets, and several teeth are missing.
I fear she will die.
It hits me in an unexpected way. The sudden, bloody deaths that the giants dole out are horrible. They tear at my heartstrings. But… watching someone slowly fade away, utterly helpless against the call of death, prolongs my pain. Perhaps some part of her reminds me of my mother.
Does Griselda still live?
Over my lifetime, I’d had a thousand different emotions toward this woman. Fear, love, jealousy, anger, desperation to be loved… to be accepted.I’m still raw from the rejection.
And at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. She made her choice. I should feel guilty for not grieving her more, but those words she spoke still echo in my mind.
I don’t hate her. I just… hope she finds the peace she never found as my mother.
I hurry back outside to find some of the herbs Maria was cutting on an old stump. Thea and Wren play with Coco in the snow, tossing loose balls of snowflakes and giggling with delight. Seeing it gives me pause, for I’d observed their playtimes so infrequently.
“¿Tienen hambre?”?3 I call.
They look up and shake their heads. The light-haired young man, Nicolás, leans against the tree and watches them.
I nod to him and return to the cabin. When I reach the door, I sway.
“Gods, I didn’t realize how tired you are,” Maria comments, coming up to steady me.
“I’m fine,” I start.
“Go—sleep.”
“Call if you need me,” I respond reluctantly.
Maria walks away, and I find a spot next to the dying woman. It isn’t ideal, but it is calm. I sit, and somehow the girls also find their way to my side. I smile, letting them curl up on my lap. Once settled, I begin braiding their now-sweaty hair.
Once finished, I press their heads to my shoulders, holding them as I had ached to do many times in the last three years. They aren’t babies anymore, but I will take every second I could get.
“Mamá,” Wren says. “When is Papá Rasa coming back?”
My heart squeezes. I didn’t know. He’d been gone for over a week now, and I could see the distant effects of the war he waged against the giants. I loved and hated him for being as powerful as he was. I wished that he could be here with me.
“I don’t know,” I say back to them in the human tongue.
Then Thea announces, “He’s all right.”
I look down at her, my heart full of tenderness.
“Oh? How do you know that?”
She confidently looks to me, “He promised us he would come back.”
The trust on her face is a blade cleaving my heart in half.
“He did promise that,” I say softly.
Then Wren holds me tighter. “Is he our papá?”
My throat closes. Then I hear his words,“Your daughters will be my daughters, my starling children promised to me by the stones of fate.”
“He… is,” I say softly.
They both smile, snuggling further into my arms.