The Weaver's Source

Chapter 10

We stood inside, shivering and completely drenched, as the wind raged outside, rattling my poor shack to the point I feared I wouldn't have a home in the morning. Gabi reacted first and stripped her cloak from her shoulders. Dropping it on the floor, she set to work in lighting the fire to warm the icy room. I went and sought some of the warmer blankets, the ones my mother made for winter nights. It should warm us. By the time I had found them and helped Gabi dry her hair a little, our tea was ready. Sitting our usual chairs, we quietly drank out tea, listening to the wind outside and warming our very cold bodies.

"Hate autumn." Gabi grumbled quietly. "Cold, wet and storms come out of nowhere."

I didn't quite agree. I enjoyed the rain and the cold. I even liked the way the world turned grey and bare, even the way it smelt. But Gabi was an energetic and warm person. Naturally she would enjoy the warmer, sunnier days of the year.

"So what do you want to do about this sword?" She asked.

I hesitated for a moment. "Fish it out?"

"And how would we do that? That river isn't shallow. It's deep, Lyra. You would need a hell of a long pole to get it."

Again, I thought. "Someone could swim down and get it but they'd only get eaten."

"Agreed." Gabi sighed lightly. "You could tell Grigore." She suggested. I gave her a surprised stare which made her laugh lightly. "Yes, I know what I said before, but your hands are tied now. You can't go in the river. No one can. Only him. So if you can tell exactly where the sword is, guide him to it, then it will raise his trust. It will show that you can support him."

I bit my lip. "You think?"

"I do think that. Whether or not it would work, I don't know, but, hell, it's safer than trying to go into that water." Gabi said firmly. "And I don't want you doing anything stupid. Looking for that sword was risky enough."

I drank deeply and sighed heavily. "Maybe. Getting hold of the sword will be hard if I tried to."

Gabi grinned. "Exactly. So, tomorrow, you find your Weaver and tell him you know where his sword is."

I nodded my head obediently. Gabi clapped her hands together then stood sharply.

"Now that I have your promise that you won't do anything stupid, I'm going to bed. It might just be warmer in the small room. I'll get the fire started in there all the same."

I yawned and agreed, feeling tiredness touch my eyes. While Gabi went upstairs, I sat in my father's chair before the fire, my mind drifting.

As I sat, trailing a brush through my hair in an almost absent minded manner, my brow furrowed deeply. I mulled over my problem; knowing where Grigore's sword is but unable to retrieve it. I knew I had to find him and face him, but the risk of arguing with him again or, worse, making a fool of myself kept me from doing so.

"You need to." I muttered to myself as I tore the brush through my hair with a frustrated motion.

I needed to for Gabi's sake. I had to brave the town or the river and whatever ire he'd toss my way.

My magic abruptly stirred, causing my hands to freeze and popping my train of thought. It wasn't fear that grabbed its attention, shivering at the thought of the river, but warmth. It swept through me, tingling my skin, and the taste of honey swirled over my tongue pleasantly. Grigore's song.

I didn't realise I was moving until I was slipping from the chair, not bothering to pull boots on or sweep a cloak over my shoulders, and reached for the door. I hesitated only briefly, curling my fingers into a fist, but as his song began to throb hotly, almost calling me, I snatched at the handle and pulled my door open.