A Question in the Dark (ShadowWood, Chapter 1)
(ONE )
Jazzlynn Burskain could hear the two young girls laughing and giggling over the sound of the wood burning in the stove. They had been playing up in the sleeping loft for over an hour now. “Onya! Lex!” she called to them. “Girls! Come down now and eat!”
She knew all too well how hard it was, growing up without a mother. When Daryen the baker had asked Jazzlynn to watch these two during the day—at least until school started again after the Harvest Day celebration—she had jumped at the chance. Now their days were usually spent together, doing all those little things the girls had been missing since their mother passed away.
Their mother Elyce had come down with wasting-sickness when Lex was just a toddler. The village wyler had been able to take away her pain, but even Wyler Jalstone couldn’t stop the inevitable end. Only the Eldergods themselves knew why good people sometimes were taken away so unfairly.
For perhaps the millionth time, Jazzlynn wondered if her own mother had been lucky enough to die quickly, the night she was taken by the Shadow-Beasts. Her speculation was pointless; she put her faith and trust, as she always had, in the wisdom and love of the Eldergods. She was doing her best to make sure that both Thelonya and Alexis grew up knowing they were loved, and that they kept their faith intact as well.
Today, the two were doing their best to get into quiet mischief. This week had been a hot one as the weather turned, and instead of wanting to go swimming or fishing (like all the boys in town seemed to want to do), they insisted on going up into the sleeping loft and playing dress-me-up. They had found the old trunk that held Jazzlynn’s mother’s clothes, and had spent hours changing and giggling and posing in front of the big mirror up there. Jazzlynn was concerned at first that they might damage one of her mother’s dresses or hats, but when she saw the look of complete longing in their eyes, she couldn’t say no.
Daryen was a good man. He was doing his best to be a good father, but when his wife had passed he had not been able to face seeing her things, and had sold all of her clothing and jewelry. The only mementos the girls had of their mother were two of her aprons, a rolling pin with her initials carved in the handle, and her recipe box.
Elyce Allistol had been an herbalist, and had recorded not only all of her handed down family recipes in this box, but also many of the herbal mixtures and plant drawings that were so invaluable to the healing abilities of the local wyler.
Each morning, Jazzlynn helped the girls tend to the garden behind their home. Ambelle Jalstone had been the town’s wyler for a great many years, and she still relied heavily on the herbs and plants that grew in that garden.
The knowledge that Elyce had passed along through her recipe box was her closest link to these two, and Jazzlynn was determined to keep that link alive. She had spent many an afternoon here in the cottage with the girls, baking pies and grinding herbs.
While the girls were playing upstairs, Jazzlynn had finished making dinner. She was going to make sure they were fed, and then she would walk them home. They would stop at the smithy and take Daddy and Micah some dinner on the way. She had made enough to bring Daryen a bowl of hot stew as well. She knew that unless he were reminded, he would eat no more than a piece of bread all day.
The two girls came down the ladder from the loft, giggling.
“What’s so funny?” Jazzlynn asked them.
The two younger girls looked at each other, and began to laugh even harder.
“Nothing,” Onya said, with a wink to her little sister.
“Yeah, nuffing,” Lex added. “I’m not tellin’ you that On’a said Micah was cute with his shirt off.”
“LEX!” Onya yelled in mock exasperation. When Lex slammed her hand over her mouth, with eyes a big as dinner plates, Jazzlynn couldn’t help but give in to her impulse and explode with a healthy, happy laugh of her own.
“That is NOT what I said!” Onya insisted, her grin stretching wide. “I just said that I bet Jazzlynn thinks he’s cute with his shirt off!” With that she turned an accusing eye on Jazzlynn.
“You’re silly, the both of you!” said Jazzlynn, avoiding answering the question. The truth was she actually did find Micah cute, and when she saw him working in the smithy, with his shirt off and the sweat glistening on his muscular arms … well, that wasn’t something she felt right discussing with the girls. “Did you two wash up yet?”
With a resigned sigh, the pair headed past the spinning wheel in the corner, and out the door to the well-pump in the yard. Jazzlynn heard Onya tell her little sister, “See? I told you she likes him!” Grinning, she just shook her head. Little girls could be so goofy.
(TWO)
Micah Smith wiped the sweat from his forehead, and reminded himself once again to remember his bandanna tomorrow. Being a blacksmith's apprentice was very hot work. It gave you aches in muscles you didn’t even know you had, but it was also very satisfying. To see a plow-blade, or a scythe, or even a horseshoe that you had created with your own hands from raw metal and sweat … there was something magical about that.
How does Ash stand the heat? Micah often asked himself the same questions, and his internal monologue was almost never-ending.
I’m at least fifteen feet from that furnace, with only a single leather apron covering my chest, and I’m sweating rivers, but he stands over there in a full leather body shield, right next to the forge and he is barely even breaking a sweat!
For the past twenty years, Arvin "Ash" Burskain had been the village blacksmith. Legend had it that he had earned his nickname when he was still an apprentice, because he spent more time cleaning the furnace exhaust pipes as punishment than he did working metal, and was always covered in the ashes that were part and parcel of this profession.
Micah was lost in thought when he saw Ash glance up at him. The older man was working a bevel into the edge of a sword, and as he looked at his apprentice, he raised one eyebrow. Micah quickly turned back to his anvil.
With a final solid swing of his hammer, the horseshoe Micah was working on finally attained the correct arc - which Ash insisted exactly match the one mounted on the wall.
Like the horse is going to notice if the left side is a little out of true, thought Micah.
As that thought flickered through his head, so did the lesson his father had taught him about trying to take the easy way out. “If you take a shortcut and no one else knows, the only person you have cheated is the one who is aware of what you have done.” It had taken him a very long time as a young boy to work out the logic behind that particular nugget of wisdom, but once he had understood it, he had tried to apply it to everything he did.
Ash had told him almost the exact same thing when he had started here last summer. “If it’s worth doing,” the blacksmith had said, “it’s worth doing right.”
That was Ash through and through. Why couldn’t Da have just been that simple and clear?
The truth was, Micah had started out with this apprenticeship mainly as a way to be close to Jazzlynn after he came of age at sixteen. Now, just over a year later, he had actually changed his name to Smith. This name change was the final stage in every young boy’s transformation to manhood. Upon the choosing of a career, men changed their last name from their mother’s family name, to one that identified their profession. This new name was theirs until the day they married, at which point they assumed their wife’s family name. “Smith sounds much more professional than Shoemaker,” he had told his Ma, “and I’m gonna do this right.”
He found that he not only enjoyed creating metal tools and weapons, he was actually pretty good at it. In fact, yesterday Ash had told him that the knife set he had made for the Milners was “not half bad.” This was high praise from the surly blacksmith, who always seemed to be smiling with his face, while still judging you with his eyes.
He never looks at Jazzlynn with that glare though. I think he loves her almost as much as I do.
This thought alone was enough to make Micah blush, and he turned away before his boss could see him.
Watch, now he’ll start in with the “you might as well make yourself useful” speech.
“Boy,” the portly smith said, in a voice that was many decibels louder than it needed to be. That was one of the drawbacks to working in the smithy; it tended to ruin a man’s hearing much earlier than most professions. The repetitive clang of hammer on iron sometimes invaded Micah’s dreams. “Boy!”
Ash snapped his fingers as Micah hurried over to him. “Since you have time to stand around with that foolish blank look on your face, you might as well make yourself useful, and sweep these floors. It looks like a herd of dirty cattle were milling around in here.”
The smithy floor was probably the cleanest part of the whole place, but Micah knew better than to object. With a grin that he was careful to keep hidden from Ash, Micah began sweeping.
(THREE)
Ash Burskain pulled the red-hot sword blank he was working on out of the forge, and set it on the flat-iron. In his mind’s eye, he could see the beautiful cutting face that was hiding in the metal, and with the right amount of force and heat he knew he could expose it. He was trying not to think too hard about things today. His little girl would be turning sixteen in just over two weeks, and it was causing more emotions in him than he knew how to deal with. He knew that if he thought about it too much, he would just end up with heartburn again.
Looking over at young Micah, his apprentice, Ash once again marveled at how quickly the boy was learning. He would make a fine blacksmith one day, although Ash would never admit this to him. When you assumed the role of master, you had to keep your students in line, and part of that discipline was done through sheer intimidation and maintaining an air of disappointment at all times.
He had learned his trade from the meanest old cuss of a blacksmith ever, and it wasn’t until after Ash had become a full smith, that old Cordel had become friendly. It was his old master who taught Ash that if a student always felt that he had to work harder to impress his teacher, he would become the very best he could be.
The biggest challenge was that he really did care for the boy. He had watched him grow up as his daughter’s best friend, and he could tell - as could everyone who knew them - that Micah was completely smitten with Jazzlynn. Ash thought that Micah might even be in love with her, and that was a thought that both thrilled him and scared him at the same time. The boy would one day make a fine husband for the right woman, but his daughter was nowhere near ready for that yet. She was still his Little Bit… and then it occurred to him yet again that she was turning sixteen soon. How did fathers ever survive this part of their daughter’s lives?
With uncanny timing, Jazzlynn entered the smithy with her two little charges trailing along behind her. She was carrying a big cook-pot, and even over the smell of the forge and burnt leather, he could tell that she had made his favorite stew. Seeing the idiot’s grin on Micah’s face and the glazed look in his eyes only confirmed for him that the boy was under her spell - and he probably always would be. That was about the only consolation the whole thing offered him. At least if he thought she outshone the moon, then he would not only defend her fiercely, but he would also give her whatever she wanted. That was a secret wish that all fathers had for their little girls.
“Something smells good,” he said quite loudly. His hearing was better than he let on. When people thought you were a little bit deaf, they tended to say things around you in a quiet voice that they would never say otherwise. This suited Ash just fine. “Or is that your laundry boiling in that pot?” He grinned and winked at little Thelonya and was rewarded by her smile, which was almost as bright as Jazzlynn’s.
“Just for that,” Jazzlynn said, “you don’t get any. Micah can just have twice as much.”
“Yeah, if he thinks he’s big enough to keep it from me.” Ash glared at his apprentice, while trying very hard not to smile. It obviously worked, because the boy paled.
“Oh, Daddy,” said Jazzlynn, “Stop that!” She was wearing the grin that he kept hidden, and he couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so much like her mother sometimes that it brought a lump to his throat.
Micah was still standing across the smithy with the broom in his hands, and that moon-faced expression hadn’t changed. Oh yeah, he had it bad.
“Well, boy,” Ash said, “are you just going to stand there? Make yourself useful and fetch us a couple bowls and spoons!”
As Micah turned and headed toward the back stockroom, Ash happened to notice that Jazzlynn was watching him walk away with a bit more than just friendly interest. Uh oh, he thought. This could be bad.
“So,” Ash said, mainly to get her focus off the boy. “What have you ladies been doing this afternoon?”
“We was playin’ dress-me-up!” Alexis’s voice had such enthusiasm in it that Ash couldn’t help but melt a little inside.
“I bet you were the prettiest dressed up little lady in all of Faire Oakes.”
“Yeah, but On’a was almost as pretty.” The complete sincerity in her little voice made Ash laugh so hard that he almost cried.
“They looked even better in Mama’s dresses and hats.” said Jazzlynn, “than I used to when I dressed up in them.”
Ash looked at his daughter quickly. Her mother’s things were very special to her, but all he saw in her eyes was love and affection for these two little ones.
Micah had returned with two bowls and spoons, and was waiting patiently for Ash to notice him.
Jazzlynn took the bowls from the boy and as she set them on the counter beside the tempering baths, she turned her attention back to Ash. “Now Daddy, the girls and I are going to take Daryen some dinner as well. I know that this small amount is going to be hard for you to survive on, but I think you’ll have to make do.” She had ladled him a huge amount of stew - way more than he could eat - and he growled at her.
“You are just lucky I have no one else around to cook for me, or I would simply disown you, you rotten child.” The twinkle in her eyes was the sweetest thing Ash had seen all day.
“Yeah, but then you would have to hire someone to clean up after you, and we both know you are way too tight with your money for that to work out.”
“Go on, get out of here now, so I can get some work done.” He turned to Micah. “And you, boy, hurry up and eat. I’m not keeping you around here just so you can eat my food and watch me work! I want this place cleaned up before you are done for the day.”
“Okay, were going to go,” said Jazzlynn, “and Daddy dear, stop being such an ogre to poor Micah. You know how sensitive he is.”
This last was said with her usual amount of humor, but Ash sensed something more. This was definitely not good–he could almost see the unspoken attraction that existed between these two. He remembered courting his Rosa … and the heartburn that he had been dreading suddenly settled in to his stomach. He would have to start keeping an even more watchful eye on these two.
(FOUR)
Jazzlynn set the stew pot down on the table, and called through the connecting door to Daryen, in the bakery’s sales room. He was sweeping and wiping down the counters now that the doors had been closed for the day. It was just barely dinnertime, but she knew that the baker was up and had his oven going before sunrise every day to make the day’s bread.
The girls were both already upstairs getting ready for bed. They too were early risers, and would be in bed and asleep before Jazzlynn even made it back home.
The bakery was one of the larger buildings in town and contained not only the store front, but also the living quarters for the baker and his family. Daryen came into the kitchen, and the smile on his face when he smelled the dinner Jazzlynn had brought him, lit up the whole room.
“Jazzlynn, sweet girl,” he said, his eyes never leaving the stew-pot on the table, “you are a blessing beyond the promises of all the Eldergods!”
“You always say that, Mr. Allistol.” she said with a small laugh.
“And I mean it every time!” His grin was infectious, and it made her very happy that she had brought him dinner.
“Did you even eat anything today?” she asked him in her strictest voice, which didn’t sound very convincing, even to her own ears.
“Aye, I did at that,” he told her. “I had three pieces of toast with jam.” He leaned his head down a bit and with a furtive glance around, he added, “and I also had six oatmeal cookies, but we’ll just keep that between us, shall we?” He winked and smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, you need a better dinner than that. I’ve brought you some stew.” Jazzlynn pointed her finger at the red-haired man in white. “I expect you to eat all of it.”
“As if you could get the pot away from me while there is a single drop left inside. No one puts together as fine a stew as you, my dear.”
“The girls had a lot of fun today,” she told him. “We rotated the herbs in the drying room this morning, and then they played dress-me-up while I made dinner.”
Daryen’s voice grew serious. “Jazzlynn, I seriously want to thank you. You have made such a difference in their lives. It’s been almost five years now since… well, that we have been alone, me and the girls. I have seen a spark in Thelonya’s eyes that I didn’t think would ever be there again, and Alexis walks around imitating you all the time. I couldn’t wish for any better role model for my daughters, and I want you to know how very much you are appreciated.”
“Aww, I love them too. They really are very important to me, and I hope that they know that in their hearts.”
“I’m sure they do, lass. I’m sure they do.”
“I will pick up the stew-pot tomorrow afternoon. You have a good night, and maybe tomorrow, could you make an extra loaf of grain-bread? I want to make Daddy a bread-pudding.”
“Of course I can, sweetie. You have a good night too, and tell your Da that I will be stopping by in a couple of days. I need a new bread-sheet and set of oven tongs made.”
“I will, Mr. Allistol.” Jazzlynn tightened her coat around herself as she left the bakery. The air wasn’t really cold yet, even after dark, but it was no longer the high point of summer either.
She started off toward the smithy and her house beyond, when she heard a sound that sent chills down the spine of everyone in Faire Oakes who heard it. Somewhere off in the ShadowWood, a wolf howled, and this was answered by a distant roar of something large and evil. Had it not been for the protection of Mother Hemlock, there is no way that she would even think about walking outside after dark, when the Shadow-Beasts hunted abroad.
She hurried her steps, and her heart didn’t slow down until she spied the smithy’s warm fires, and standing there in front of the doors was Micah. Obviously, he had stayed around to see that she made it home safely. He truly was a great friend, and it was only right that good friends should think about each other a lot. Having thus justified her strange fascination with him today, she relaxed and smiled as she walked toward him.
(FIVE)
Micah watched Jazzlynn approaching from the darkness. He knew that Ash was still watching from the depths of the smithy behind him, even though he pretended that he was indifferent to what his young apprentice was doing. The fact that her dad was so protective over Jazzlynn was a comfort to Micah. He knew that it probably should make him feel awkward, but instead he was very glad to know that if he wasn’t around someone would be watching out for her.
She is way too trusting of everyone, and she never sees the dark side of any situation.
As her shape grew clearer, he kept noticing how curvy that shape had become. He knew that if she caught him staring she would probably punch him in the arm, which would be bad, or maybe she would pull away and ignore him, which would be worse.
“Hey Mouse,” Micah said.
“Hey Scarecrow,” she answered.
These nicknames had been a private exchange between them as far back as he could remember. There had been times as they were growing up, that they were angry at each other, but it never lasted. That’s what being best friends is all about.
“I was going to walk home,” he told her with a grin, “but I was kind of scared of the dark, and was hoping you would walk with me and be my bodyguard.”
“I suppose I could do that, but if we get attacked by Shadow-Beasts, I might just have to sacrifice you so I can get away faster.”
“Well, you know my rule, Mouse. I don’t have to run faster than the monsters, I just have to run faster than you.”
“You wish you could, Scarecrow-boy.” Her grin was as bright as the moon that was shining down on them. “You haven’t been able to beat me in a race since you were thirteen and you grew those ridiculously large feet.”
“Well,” he said, “at least I don’t have to cross my arms and hold my chest when I run.” He had meant it as a joke, but somehow it felt awkward. It wasn’t like they hadn’t joked about the fact that she had developed very female parts, but now he could feel himself turning red.
Jazzlynn turned to him and punched him in the arm. “Oh yeah? Well at least my throat doesn’t have that goofy lump bobbing up and down when I talk.” The twinkle in her eye dispelled his anxiety, and suddenly they were just best friends again.
He knew that his feelings for her had grown and had changed since they were kids. They had always loved each other. Loving others was what their whole life was centered around. The Eldergods had given them the ability to love, and expected everyone to love each other and to help each other through life’s hard times.
Micah didn’t know why, but his love for Jazzlynn had grown so strong and so deep, that he knew he would willingly trade his life for hers, and would always do anything she wanted, even if he knew better.
He was only scared of one thing. He was terrified that if she didn’t feel the same way for him, if she still just considered him a friend and nothing more, then finding out how he felt might destroy their friendship. He would rather be forever just her “friend” and still be close to her, than to admit he was in love with her and have her push him away.
He turned and fell in beside her, and together they walked toward the houses at the south end of town.
As they walked along the road, Micah looked over at Jazzlynn and for a moment, the moon shone down on her and his heart climbed into his throat. He suddenly realized that while she had always been pretty, she was growing into a woman who was truly beautiful. It was bad enough that she was cuter than any girl he had ever met, but she was actually also mind-numbingly gorgeous. I wish I could just tell her how I feel.
Suddenly the howl of a wolf split the night from the direction of the ShadowWood. Jazzlynn turned toward him and stepped close. Micah, without even thinking, put his arms around her and turned them both so his back was toward the sound. She rested her head against his chest and hugged him, and that instant changed everything.
On such tender moments, the fate of worlds sometimes revolves.
“Jazzlynn,” he whispered, looking down at the top of her head, “Will you accompany me to the Fresh Year Festival on Friday night?”
He was stunned! He had thought about asking her, but never intended to do it tonight, or in such a quiet and almost intimate moment. He was afraid for a minute that she would tense up. The air seemed almost charged, and after the ululation of the wolf, the night had grown very quiet.
He felt her inhale and softly hug him a little tighter, and then she tilted her head back and looked up at him. Her face had grown very serious and her eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight.
“Dost thou ask for mine arm to lead and mine hand to hold?” Her voice was deep and full and had a slight echo that didn’t quite sound like her.
He found himself answering in a similar voice. “I do, fair maid and true, request that thy heart and smile be with mine upon that night.” He was experiencing the strangest feeling of déjà vu, and he held his breath.
She smiled, and said “I accept this offer, if it be made in pure love and upon the promise of all the Rabani in Heaven. Dost thou so swear?”
“I swear upon mine honor, and upon mine mother, and even beyond the Rabani to all of the Eldergods themselves, fair maiden.” The air seemed charged. He opened his mouth to ask her if she felt strange too, and instead his voice came out in a quiet thundering whisper. “So mote it be!”
The universe itself seemed to pause for an instant as his words echoed in the silence behind the night.
Then, in the blink of an eye it was over. Jazzlynn stepped away from him and shook her head quickly, as if shaking off water. Above their heads, a noise erupted from the dark trees, and a shadow launched itself into the air. With two downdraft beats of its wings, a large bird of some kind flew off across the dark sky.
Jazzlynn looked at Micah and smiled. “But if you expect me to wear a dress, you can just go by yourself, Scarecrow.”
“Of course not Mouse. I think that if I saw you dress up like an actual girl, I’d fall down laughing.” She reached out and took his hand, and it felt like it always had, just two best friends heading home.
Yet underneath, something felt like it had changed forever, and that made him smile as they walked on through the dark.
(to be continued)
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