RISING (#2, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 56

"Tabitha!" a familiar voice cried out. Beckah was almost hidden behind a towering armload of blankets. I hefted half of them from her and we started passing them out to those waiting for their loved ones to awaken.

Weaving through the noisy throng, we hurried back to the linen cupboards, along with the Purcell sisters, and loaded ourselves up with more blankets. Just before we left the storeroom, I asked, "Who?" Beckah knew what I was asking.

As we made our back to the makeshift infirmary, grief pierced my heart with every name Beckah brokenly whispered. My throat grew thick and I blinked back stinging tears as she told me who had died and who else was missing, more than likely devoured in their entirety by Jurgana or her beasts. As I expected, most of the dead were guards or soldiers—cadets like Hilda—from our House, and I knew them all. I'd eaten with them, sat in the garden with a cup of tea and chatted with them, worked alongside them. We all were one family.

In a few days' time, we'd bury our dead and sing our laments as we offered their souls to Hazus, god of Nine Hells. We'd grieve and share stories of those who had passed on. Their family would mourn and we would too. House Deniaud would be shrouded in sorrow for a while to come. But life would return, teased out by the resilience of the children.

For the next few hours, I disappeared into a whirlwind of activity. The phone had not stopped ringing since word had gotten out about Jurgana. Outside the mansion came the consistent whirring sound of helicopters landing on the lawn and armed convoys arriving to escort the heirs back home, as well as provide additional transport for their servants. I ran from one end of the house to the other, sent on tasks directed by the Butler and Mr. Volkov, and even Mrs. Deniaud. I assisted Marissa, who was overseeing the team that was neatly packing the upper ranks' personal items and clothes into their Louis Vuitton suitcases to be later returned to their rightful owners. There were a few of the upper ranks that had declared they were staying on to help: the Lyon brothers, Rosa Battagli, and the Crowthers, and it seemed Irma Szarvas too. Though Irma wasn't actually down here helping. She had decided to remain in her bedroom. Downstairs we served everyone piping hot, comforting food Chef Markel and his brigade had quickly prepared. I made sure everyone was warm with blankets and hydrated with water and checked on Aunt Ellena every so often. My aunt had set up a creche of sorts in one of the side rooms near the Banquet Hall. She had cushions and blankets spread across the floor, where the children slept while their parents were busy assisting our House or were one of the wounded, now slumbering.

Hours later, the night sky lightened with dawn approaching. We'd respectfully covered the dead in white sheets, and their corpses were being carried to the holding cells beneath the Deniauds' mansion. The dead would remain there in cool darkness until they could be transported back to the House they served to be buried on their estate. I finished serving hot drinks and food for men and women working outside, one of them being Varen Crowther, who I pointedly ignored and perhaps purposely refused to offer food to, even though he was trying to catch my eye.

The predawn chill nipped my ears and nose and cheeks. I entered the mansion, closed the door behind me, and paused for a moment to savor the warmth inside. I still had a pot of coffee and plates of food, so I headed for Aunt Ellena's creche. Entering the archway that opened the room up to the hallway I wasn't surprised to see Markel already there, the smell of freshly baked pastries and scones floating in the air.

Dolcie and a few other girls were watching over the children with Aunt Ellena. The furniture had been pushed aside and a nest had been created in the middle of the floor with blankets and cushions. Children slept alongside one another, some sprawling, others tucked close to a sibling, a few fitful in their sleep. Other servants that worked with Aunt Ellena were entering the creche, washed and cleaned from dirt and soot, after snatching a few hours respite in their rooms. They quietly took the place of one another, settling in while the other girls left for a few hours of sleep. I offered them a cup of coffee and a choice of something to snack on.