Blind Man's Bluff: Black Butterfly - Book one in series

Chapter 1 - Rebirth

Birth rivaled the violent, dark descent. It was only for a moment that she recalled the force behind her rebirth as she vainly grasped at the wet tree roots and fallen leaves, some still embroidered with ice and snow. Sharp twigs and rocks that dug into her thigh and back reminded her of her denuded state. Her fingers stopped responding to her demands to take hold of the ravine's edge; it was the first blow to her head. Her body plunged into the freezing waters of the swiftly running river, ordering her to fight or die. Clawing at the passing rocks with unseeing eyes became her sole objective. Fight or die. The frozen foliage and pebbles that were tearing her exposed chest were proof that she had made it out alive, and dawn was not long off if the gray sky she glanced up at before collapsing was not a delusion.

"Je suis libre. I am free," she heard herself whisper to the mud. They were only words, devoid of meaning by now. Her consciousness had evaporated and she spoke only an echo of a memory, a thought and a prayer uttered so many times that her lips moved only to speak those three words that had, in their repetition, become one word, or a senseless and barbarous tongue she understood no longer.

"Do you think she is dead?" It was a small sound from far away. "Don't touch her; she might not be alive."

"I'm not going to touch her. All I want to do is put my cloak over her. Give me yours too," said a second voice.

"Why should I?" inquired the obstinate first.

"Michelle, she has no clothes on. She'll freeze to death."

"Well Francoise, if she is already dead, I will have wasted my new coat on a dead body, and then Mama will burn the coat and I will freeze to death."

"Michelle, if you don't give me your cloak and she dies, God will punish you." That logic gained the woman beneath the bridge a cloak and her dignity. "There. Now you run to find Dr. Giry; I will find the Marquis, he won't like this one bit."

"Who will guard the body?"

"She's made it this far on her own, a little longer can't hurt too much. Now get going."

"What if she runs away with my coat?"

"You are a silly girl, Michelle."

The woman's body would have lain there until its decomposition, so near she was to death. Perhaps the girls' cloaks mattered little at this point, perhaps they spared her life in its final moment.

"Elle est ici! She's here! She's here!" It was Francoise. "Wake up, Mademoiselle. Wake up!" Her voice was soft and pleading. There was another person sliding down the steep embankment.

"Thank you, Francoise. Now I need you to go back home. Dr. Giry and I shall handle it from here."

"Yes, sir. Will you be needing my mother?"

"For what? No, I shall call if I do. But the good doctor is a capable man. If she is alive now, he will keep her thus and you may speak with her later if you wish." A knee touched the ground beside her shoulder and the frozen strands of hair were brushed away from her face and neck. "Run home, little Francoise. Do as I say." A long moment passed before he turned the cold body over, pressing his head to her chest. After a few moments he pressed his fingers to her neck and cursed softly. Horse hooves pounded on the road above and the Marquis shouted a greeting to Dr. Giry.

"I brought little Michelle home. Quite horrified, she was. Well, what news?" The doctor dismounted.

"I think she's dead," the Marquis responded.

"Suicide?" asked the doctor as he scrambled down the embankment.

"I don't think so. Look at the blood on her hands. She wanted to live. That's the disturbing part."