Secrets & Treasons

Fifth Movement: in the shadow of the mists | Someone else's crime

"At this rate, there won't be room for everyone else," said Hawkeye in all seriousness. "Well, what happened? You just disappeared, as if by magic! Was that it?"

"No, I don't think so, I was just stupid and distracted."

"Not to mention scatterbrained..."

"You're not wrong," she said not even fighting his comment.

"Is that it? You went underwater because of your carelessness? And it was your carelessness that kept you underwater then? Is that what you're going to say to me?"

"Why are you getting upset?" she said in surprise. "I don't know what happened exactly... sorry if you were worried..."

"If? IF !!!! Of course I was worried! We were all worried to death, well most of us," he continued, looking at the human and the troll with contempt. "What did you expect?"

"I'm so sorry! Come on, Hawkeye, what else do you want me to say? I didn't do it on purpose! You think I was amused: I almost died today!"

"No, of course, sorry, I'm on edge. It's this fucking place. I don't like the vibe in here at all. It's not nerves, but a really... strange, unpleasant feeling. As if we were not particularly welcome, you know what I mean?"

"Oh, yes!" she said in a breath. "Too well. There are things lurking here, things that hide from our vision. And they mean us harm."

"Are these the things that nearly drowned you?"

"I'm not sure, but they must have something to do with what happened to me."

"Have you two finished talking? It is high time to sleep. Half Moon, you should be exhausted so... Quiet! We have a long drive tomorrow. And we break camp at sunrise."

The young woman was not in the mood to fight with Childeric. She wrapped herself more tightly in her heavy cloak, and closed her eyes. The mists of the marshes receded. It gradually became quiet. Only the occasional croaking toad, not far from her, and the "glop" of stagnant water could be heard. A breeze that was cooler than icy stirred the few tall grasses. Reeds wept as they bent. The quarter moon was hidden behind the thick clouds.

Something woke Half Moon with a start. She couldn't tell what it was, a noise, an unusual feeling, a whisper, but whatever it was, it had stopped. With ears and eyes alert, she scanned the surroundings. Everything seemed quiet, and all the companions were present around the campfire, now extinguished. She could have gone back to sleep if it hadn't been for the persistent sensation that whispered to her that what she was seeing was not reality. She looked more carefully. The human was sleeping as best he could, his head on an improvised pillow, not far from the dead fire. The twins, back-to-back, were shivering in concert. Childeric, curled up in his wool coat, was dozing against one of the carved stones of the collapsed building. The troll snored. The children, huddled together, slept quietly.

***

The precious piece of stone wrapped in cloth turned in his hands without ceasing. The information had been precise and the description perfect, so it had not taken him long to find, among the ruins of the ancient sanctuary, the right place, the one where the piece of carved stone was going to be inlaid with the most perfect accuracy, as if it had never been removed from the bas-relief. He could not decide to remove it from its linen wrapping, overcome by an incomprehensible remorse. However, it was not he who had torn this antique stone from its mural, certainly not! That did not change anything with his disorder. As if he had violated a sacred place, and that, in spite of his demonstrations of good will, he felt threatened by the shock in return. He needed a bit of calm before erasing another's crime. He sniffed the light breeze of the marshes; yet he knew there was an urgency.