Pjerin backed up one incredulous step. As Annice Sang, the earth in front of her heaved and rolled. He stared, amazed, and could almost make out the individual shapes of the agitated kigh. Amazement grew as the earth continued to move even after Annice stopped Singing. Then he caught sight of her expression and amazement turned to fear.
"You've got to follow them, Pjerin. Hurry!"
He opened his mouth to ask her why, but her next words snapped it closed.
"Gerek's been hurt. They think he's dying."
The disturbance in the earth moved up the ravine as though a giant mole were digging just below the surface at full speed. Through the roaring in his ears Pjerin heard Annice say she'd catch up as fast as she could, then he was running in pursuit of the kigh.
They remained exactly the same distance in front of him as they had when he began. Pjerin's lungs began to burn as he raced toward his son. His wounded shoulder ached as loose dirt and stone forced him to flail about with both arms lest he lose his balance. He'd been running forever, he was certain of it, when he saw the tiny body lying half covered in muddy water.
"Gerek!"
Diving to his knees, Pjerin caught up the still, pale body of his child. A part of him knew that the boy could have internal damage and that moving him was the worst thing he could do, but all the other parts only wanted to hold him.
Scratches and welts covered every inch of exposed skin and slack lips had already taken on a hint of blue. His son draped across his lap, Pjerin lowered his head until his left ear rested on what seemed a minimal curve of chest. He couldn't remember Gerek being so small. The tears began when, faint but unmistakable, he heard a heartbeat.
Hands trembling, Pjerin pulled off sodden clothes and searched for broken bones; arms and legs were bruised but solid. A blue and purple lump covered half his forehead from his hairline to just over his right eye.
"So cold…" Stripping off his shirt, ignoring the tearing pain as he stretched tissue that had barely begun to heal, Pjerin pressed the child's limp body against his torso, skin to skin. Body heat was all he had to give. "Papa's here," he murmured, "everything's going to be all right." Holding Gerek in place with one arm, he began frantically massaging chilled flesh with the other.
Annice arrived a few moments later, gasping for breath, her knuckles white around the pack strap she'd been clutching so that the trotting mule could support some of her weight. She stared down at Pjerin still rubbing Gerek's unresponsive body and got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd seen dead children before and although the kigh said Gerek still lived, she knew that he'd be taking his place in the Circle soon. If they could get him to a healer… but the nearest was in Marienka, and he wouldn't live five hours let alone five days.
She watched Pjerin's back as he tried to rub warmth and life back into his son and couldn't think of a thing to say. Finally, she knelt across from him, reached out, and gently touched him on the shoulder.
Pjerin jerked his head up and stared at her for a moment with no idea of who she was. His whole world had become the child in his arms. Then he remembered. His hand wrapped around her wrist and he dragged her closer. "Sing!" he commanded. "Sing and make him better."
He was hurting her, but she made no move to pull away. "I'm not a healer, Pjerin. I can't."
"You can!" he insisted, eyes burning into hers. "The healer who came to me in Elbasan told me that some believe the body has a kigh and that's what they heal. You Sing all four quarters, Annice. Sing five!"
"That's not how it works," she began, but he cut her off, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"It has to work! I'm begging you, Annice." He searched for a way to make her realize how important this was. "Gerek's dying. I'll give up all rights to the child you carry if you can just save him. Please. You have to try."
"But…"
"Annice, please."
Her own cheeks wet, Annice swallowed and opened her mouth to Sing him comfort, something that would help to take the edges off his pain, when she felt a gentle touch on her knee.
The kigh nodded when she glanced down at it. And when she glanced past it, a whole circle of kigh nodded.
Annice drew in a long shuddering breath and pulled her hand from Pjerin's grip. It wouldn't hurt anything to try. She touched Gerek lightly with her fingertips, and Sang.
She had to Sing earth, it was all she really could Sing now, but she tried to put into it all that she'd felt that morning in the valley when everything had been new and anything was possible. Because love crossed all four quarters, she Sang Pjerin's love for his son and her love for the baby beneath her heart.
The kigh moved closer.
Gerek's heartbeat became slower, fainter.
So she Sang Gerek. Everything she knew about him. Everything she'd seen, everything she'd guessed, everything Pjerin had told her.
It wasn't going to be enough.
She knew it.
She heard Pjerin moan. He knew it, too.
The kigh began to Sing with her; a familiar rumble of sound, felt rather than heard.
Familiar…
Eyes closed, Annice began the first anthem Sung to earth at Final Quarter Festival. The kigh took it up. When she finished, she began water. Behind her, the music of the stream slowed. Impossibly, she heard a liquid ripple of Song. Fire. Orange tongues of flame danced over the grass on the bank. Air. It was more a plea than an anthem. Her voice took the music and begged with it. Just as she thought it doomed to fail, her hair lifted off the back of her neck and cold fingers traced patterns on her skin.
Tears streaming down her face, Annice ran up the last notes of air and right into the joyous welcome of the sun throwing herself into the Song. Light returns. Life continues.
And another voice Sang with her. A silent voice. A gentle voice. A strong voice.
It Sang healing.
Gerek's heart beat faster. Stronger. His skin began to warm.
One by one, the kigh fell silent.
The silent voice and Annice continued on a moment longer together.
Then only Annice Sang.
Cradled in his father's arms, Gerek coughed and started to cry.
Annice felt the kigh catch her as she fell.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Papa? I think she's awake."
Annice winced as Gerek's piping voice drove slivers ; of sound deep into both ears. She whimpered and that hurt, too. If she could have turned off the pounding of the pulse that boomed like a kettledrum within the confines of her skull, she would have.
"Annice?"
Pjerin's voice was low, very nearly a whisper, and much less painful. He sounded worried. She struggled to open her eyes but couldn't seem to remember how her eyelids worked.
"Annice? Can you hear me?"
Of course I can hear you! she wanted to snarl as he spoke a little louder. You're echoing! But all that emerged was a strangled croak. Her throat felt as if she'd tried to swallow a dozen knives and they'd all gotten jammed point first between jaw and collarbone.
A sudden sharp blow against her spine diverted her attention with a sudden sharp pain and her concentration focused on the movements in her womb. She realized with incredulous joy that she could hear the soft, steady rhythm of her baby's heartbeat.
"Help me move her onto her back, Gerek."
"Are you gonna give her a drink?"
"As soon as we move her so she won't spill it."
The voices, the noises of movement, were making it harder and harder to hold onto the fragile sound of the unborn life. Annice fought to keep the contact, but gradually it slipped away, lost in the surrounding sounds.
"Papa, she's crying."
"Annice?" A warm finger brushed moisture from her cheek. "Are you all right?"