Chapter Twenty-two:
We made it back to Muniche safely right at the close of the Oktoberfest, the streets and surrounding countryside teeming with the excitement of the revelry. All of our vassals expressed great relief upon our return, and the servant women spent many hours caring for me in the subsequent months, helping me as I gradually began attempting to hobble about the manor. Joel had fashioned me a decent walking stick while we traveled along the Schwäbisch trade route, for he found the timber in the region to his liking.
Many of the female servants begged me to never set out on a dangerous journey again. Ulka in particular asserted that she had never heard good tales of the sailors on the Rhine. I chuckled tolerantly at their advice and assured them that I had no intentions of embarking on another adventure, knowing deep within my heart that I would stay in Muniche for the next decade, awaiting its fall.
Jarvis and Leo had managed the estate well, and Joel threw himself back into the business of trade immediately upon our return. He traveled to the fairgrounds daily to haggle for a profit. The crops had suffered that summer due to a drought that had hit in July, which prompted me to smile privately. I knew that if I had been there, I could have staved off the worst of it with my ice. Although Joel took most of the credit for raising and selling our crops, my element had its uses, and our streamlined system of accounting helped Jarvis immensely.
Joel and I sat down together to look over our financial status during the winter months. We concluded that if our current success held for the next five years, our three children would have more than enough to ensure their survival once they would have to flee the Saxon onslaught. Joel also noted that if we decided to have any more kids, we should leave it at one or two, since we had only ten years left before our tiny kingdom would crumble around us. “We don’t want to force a whole horde of youngsters to face the trials to come,” he said, and I agreed, glad that he finally seemed to view the situation sensibly.
Upon our homecoming, Helmut did not recognize any of us at first, for we had been gone nearly six months, almost a third of his lifetime. For the first week or so, he clung to Ulka with a look of pouty desperation on his chubby face whenever Joel or I reached out to hold him. Eventually he overcame his bashfulness and spent hours curled up in my lap sucking his thumb or toddling along behind his older siblings when they raced through the manor playing their energetic games. Helmut’s grasp of Teutonica seemed to improve daily, so Joel began speaking English to him to get him used to our family’s secret dialect. Cammie and Max copied their father with eagerness, their eyes shining with fun as they welcomed their youngest brother into the comradeship of the American Teutons.
When the winter snows descended, I passed countless afternoons sitting by the fireplace in the front parlor, teaching my oldest children the arts of reading and writing Teutonica. I schooled them on European history, discussing the differences between the Teutons and the other Germanic tribes, emphasizing the positive changes that Christianity had effected upon our people. Both Cammie and Max started asking thoughtful questions regarding faith that winter, which pleased me greatly, for I did not want my children to be blinded by the medieval Church’s preoccupation with sacraments and good works. I read quite a few Bible stories to them, reminding them often that they could not trust their own abilities, for even heroes like Paul and David struggled with sin.
I had thought constantly of Augustin since our caravan had left Eisenwald. I longed to see him again, even though he had promised in his last letter that he would leave me alone. His absence ate at my soul, and sometimes I feared that he had found some way to sever our bond without my knowledge, since I never felt his hands upon my heart anymore. I had realized at the start of winter that I did have the capacity to forgive what he had done, despite the lingering frailty in my ankles and feet. He had not been himself during those devilish atrocities; I knew that, and I needed to tell him so.
I looked in vain for him in my dreams, cursing the unfairness of the heart-bond of the Teutons. It gave the priest total control, leaving the woman unable to enter his dreams, unable to contact him if he hid himself from her. The chauvinism imbedded in my people’s rites infuriated me, for I believed that men and women were equals and should be treated as such. I began to dread going to bed at night, afraid to face my nightmares alone, afraid to feel the emptiness in my heart. Depression gradually dragged me down again as I yearned for someone I could not have while my decent husband slept peacefully beside me, not knowing the torment of my unfaithful soul.
Anger began to ignite within me along with my frustration, boiling over as the winter progressed. Joel and our three children were free to frolic outside in the snow, to sled, build castles, and stage snowball fights; but their lame mother remained trapped in an aging manor. I often sat upon the couch in the front parlor, watching their games through the windows, my feeble ankles bundled in wool against the cold.
If I hadn’t gone to Eisenwald at all, I could be out there with them, I thought one frosty afternoon in late February. Now I may never dance with my element again thanks to a vengeful demon. And the Eihalbe said I’d find my dark one there. Now my dark one has forsaken me, leaving me helpless and alone.
My muses shifted from my children shrieking outside, while Joel sent a whirl of flurries after them, to the three Eihalbae I had met in my lifetime and the advice that each of them had given. I was starting to seriously doubt their insight.
The first one had advised me to climb the Leutasch Gorge, a feat which would have killed me—had it not been for that shadowy rescuer who summoned multiple elements far divergent from each other. A modern version of a Black Priest, no doubt, one who mocked my lack of power over time and tide. The Eihalbe on my father’s property had told me rather flatly that not everything dead was destructive . . . and yet, Augustin had destroyed me inside and out. The one here in the eleventh century had urged me to save Augustin back when he was mortal, and hinted that I would find him if I joined Freia on her trip to Eisenwald.
The Eihalbae seem to want me broken, defeated, I thought, lying back upon the couch to stare up at the ceiling, my eyebrows wrinkling in annoyance. What have I ever done to deserve this from them? I’ve never torn a branch from a silver oak or stolen any acorns. I’ve never asked them any questions. I’ve always treated them with respect, but their advice has led me to the gates of hell, to a man who has long since given up on hope, given up on me.
“Enough of this!” I growled in Bayerisch, forcing myself up from the couch and reaching for my cane. I hobbled at a snail’s pace toward the bedroom, intending to shut myself inside and leap into the spiritual realm for the first time in a long time. Though I could not walk all the way to the grove by the stream, my icy spirit could get there for certain. My injuries should not hinder my inner essence.
Ulka met me in the hallway just as I reached my bedroom doorway, and she asked me whether I required any assistance, her expression troubled. “I’m going to lay down for a while,” I told her. It was not quite a lie. “If Joel and the kids come inside, please tell them to leave me in peace until dinner.”
The head housekeeper dropped a quick curtsey and departed in the direction of the great hall. I crept into the bedroom and closed the door behind me, a flame of anticipation smoldering in my chest. I knew that Teutons ought not to question Eihalbae about anything, but I was sick of the fairies’ nebulous apothegms and the destructive consequences that their words had wrought. The one on Thaden grounds had some explaining to do.
I stretched my body out upon the bed I shared with Joel and shut my eyes, invoking my ice to its fullest extent. The magic in my blood took a few moments to manifest itself, but I began to feel it crusting the wool over my feet, creeping slowly upward. I clenched my fists and focused more sternly, silently ordering my element to do its duty, to set my spirit free from its prison. My hands and arms froze along with my hair, and finally I sensed its chill enveloping my chest and face, cutting off my breath.
Another lingering moment passed before my spirit broke free, rising from my physical body to hover in the air like a lost cloud. I took several deep breaths with my ethereal lungs, pulling the translucent veil of my eyelids over my eyes while I beat back the panic that had fought to claim me at my element’s sluggishness.
It’s fine, Swanie. You’re fine, I told myself, endeavoring to draw the room’s air into my snow white robes to reassure me. You can breathe, you can walk, and you can fly in this form. Now seize the winter for yourself!
I sent my spirit out into the yard beyond the bedroom window, sensing its glass scratching at me on my way through. I chortled as I dove into a snowbank, my glum heart refreshed by its cold. Everything was so beautiful outside, a thick coating of snow draping the ground, its crystals glowing in the sunlight beneath a dark blue sky. I lay upon my back for a while, my spirit half buried in the snow, my eyes watching the wisps of wind and the occasional passing bird.
Maybe I should make a habit of doing this every day, at least whenever Joel and the kids go out to play, I recognized, tranquility buoying my unhappy mood. But now it’s time for business. Let’s see what that Eihalbe has to say for itself.
I imagined myself in the grove by the stream, the place where the Eihalbe of the Thaden grounds prowled amid the branches of its tree. As reality swirled around me, coalescing into that familiar collection of oaks, I lifted my spirit into an erect posture, my elemental eyes passing over the bare branches that shimmered with silver.
Where are you? I demanded, my mental voice laden with frustration. Show yourself. My icy spirit seemed to project my call to the landscape around me; I felt a shivering breeze stir the branches of each tree in the dell.
It took me a fair amount of time to find the fairy. It sat balanced upon the uppermost branch of its tree, its beating wings a blur even to my enhanced vision. I sent my spirit upward to its level, noticing that its entire body seemed to sparkle like diamonds beneath the sun. Its colorful eyes locked with mine as I floated a few steps away from where it sat, its delicate fingers fashioning a small clump of snow into some ridiculous artwork.
We need to have a talk, I informed it harshly, not bothering with a greeting.
“The Teuton witch has lost her way,” the Eihalbe said, sounding incredibly blasé. Its eyes shifted from mine to the snowy creation in its hands.
I’ve had enough of this! I snapped, my anger darkening my spirit’s robes into the cobalt of the sky above. I’ve had enough of the ambiguous crap your kind spews out to every Teuton that crosses your paths!
The fairy’s eyes moved back to mine, what looked like a grimace appearing on its silvery lips. You told me to save Augustin a decade ago, and now he’s dead anyway, a slave to a demon who’s torn my heart to shreds! “I’ll find my dark one there,” but he wants nothing to do with me now! I flung my hands up in frustration, disrupting the currents of wind.
The Eihalbe eyed me in silence for a moment, its lips pursed in what could have been offense. But when it spoke again, it looked down at the work of its hands. “He has spurned his destiny for years, that one. But his is not one that can be permanently evaded.”
And what destiny is that? To destroy a maiden from the future who had no concept of the depth of his darkness? What about my destiny? I glared at the fairy, wishing that it would meet my ire with its own instead of balancing so carelessly upon its thin branch. One of your kind set me on this path of time travel, and look what it’s done to me! Turned me into a liar, a hypocrite, a slave, a cripple. I came here to learn the truth about my people’s history, not for this!
“You came to detach yourself from the priest who mentored you.” The fairy corrected me in an even voice, its kaleidoscope eyes piercing mine. Its fingers had begun to pull snowflakes from its pile one by one, sprinkling them upon the argentine threads of its hair.
Embarrassment and anguish washed over my spirit simultaneously. I had not expected the Eihalbe to know of the selfish reasons that had sent me into the past. I thought about Hans’ necklace tucked away in my bag from the twenty-first century. I had not worn it in ages now.
Was this the price then? I asked, my thoughts ragged. Forget Hans and fall for one destined for hell? Learn the agony of betrayed love and watch my children die? This is not a fair price!
The fairy sighed and raised what remained of its snow to its lips, blowing the entire clump toward where I floated among the tree branches. Its crystals carried a brisk chill that rejuvenated my spirit, lightening my robes once more. I blinked at my ethereal clothing, then looked at my silvery companion, unsure how to take its gesture.
The Eihalbe’s expression appeared grave, its prismatic eyes gazing intently at my face. “The price of Wuotan’s sorcery is death,” it said.
Confusion swept over me along with an uncanny dread. Are you saying that death is going to be creeping over my shoulder for the rest of my life, just because I decided to travel time? I felt as though all of my intentions had been swallowed by a bottomless pit. Was that what the Eihalbe in the gorge had tried to tell me?
“None on earth can know the future. What advice we offer is a product of the ages, of the many that have come before.” The fairy’s tail swished abruptly, and it glanced downward toward the main trunk of its tree.
But you just said that Augustin’s been avoiding his destiny, I pointed out, uncertainty altering my icy spirit’s translucence. How can you know what his destiny is if you don’t know something about the future?
The Eihalbe’s lips quirked into a smile, and it lifted itself from its branch, fluttering for a moment in midair. “The Teuton witch ought to expand her perception.” It darted downward an instant later, quickly vanishing from my sight.
That explains nothing. I infused my thoughts with all of the frustration I felt. Even when I dared to ask questions, the fairy continued to speak in riddles. I could not work this out on my own, or I would have done it already. I slid my eyelids shut and rubbed my temples, trying to summon the frigid air around me into my spirit, to let its icy temperature soothe my pain.
The fairy returned before I thought to compress my spirit and return to my mortal body, frail and crippled upon my bed. I saw it through my crystalline eyelids, and it appeared to carry something in its hands. When I reopened my eyes to look at it directly, it stretched its arms forth, proffering a silver acorn. My eyes opened wide, and I felt my heart skip a beat. For me? I queried. No Eihalbe should offer me one of its cherished fruits after I had railed upon it so impolitely.
“For your dark one,” the fairy clarified, cocking its head at me. “His stores of our magic run low, and it is time that he raise his own tree.”
My jaw dropped in slow motion as I looked from the acorn to the Eihalbe. But—
“You visited my home today. Nothing stops you from visiting his.”
Shivers pervaded the whole of my spirit, and I had an instinct to slap myself. Of course, I realized. Even if Augustin wants to hide from me, I can go to his cottage as a spirit, search him out until he acknowledges me.
My lips curved into a real smile, something that felt foreign to my spirit. I’ll take it to him, I promised the fairy, reaching out to accept its offering. I curled my ghostly fingers around it, pleased at how solid it felt in my hand. I needed to get back to the bedroom and store the acorn somewhere where Joel would not notice it.
But before I departed, I met the Eihalbe’s gaze one last time. Are our destinies . . . separate? I asked, worry shifting my icy robes around me.
“Seek the righteous path,” the fairy advised me, its wings carrying it leisurely toward the frozen stream below. “Wuotan’s grasp upon him is more tenuous than he believes.”