Things
in the village settled down a bit once Meg came back with Deirdre.
With those two returned, the wool spinning went faster, and the cows
were less likely to kick over the milk bucket. In the winter snow,
Meg taught everyone the finer points of hunting, and so there were
soon fewer boars in the forest.
Meg could not quite understand why Deirdre had kissed her on the
cheek when she had suggested such a thing. Dealing with the boars was
necessary, after all. She knew why Deirdre kissed her, but she
did not understand – not at first. For though she remembered vague
details of this woman, she still did not remember anything clearer.
No matter how much she enjoyed having Deirdre around, she would not
kiss her back, for she was always just a little ashamed of the way
things were so unbalanced between them.
Sometimes Deirdre did not mind. Sometimes she minded. Sometimes
she would take Meg by the hand and lead her wherever they were going;
sometimes she would keep far ahead. She would always say that it was
no trouble, that Meg's memory would come back someday, but --
when?
In the meantime, she and Tally would sit with Meg in their little
roundhouse – for it was Tally's, as well, when he was there and not
away – and teach Meg the finer points of sign language. It was slow
going past the basics. Meg did not enjoy responding in long
sentences. She preferred to speak aloud. But Deirdre was, as ever, a
patient teacher, and very slowly Meg learned to respond to Deirdre in
kind. After a while they did not even need Tally's help.
And just as well, for he was gone more often than not. On that subject Deirdre would not sign, not even
when Meg asked.
Fia, meanwhile, was there and gone and there and gone many
times per day. Meg thought of trying to follow her, but where she
could run faster than Fia, it was mostly in a straight line. Fia
could turn on a dime and be somewhere far to the left or right or
behind in an instant. It was something the other children of the
village found as amusing as vexing, and after a while they had to
exclude Fia from their games of tag, or else nobody besides her would
ever win.
And Meg eventually had to give up trying to catch her. It was much
easier to lure the girl home with a promise of a regular suppertime,
which, as Fia said, was not something she was used to. She was used
to uncertain returns on the fishing pole or the rabbit trap, and
keeping warm beneath a lean-to of branches and leaves. She offered to
teach the village children how this was done, at which suggestion
Deirdre's smile practically lit the roundhouse brighter than the
fire.
But as the weeks and months wore on, and winter turned to spring,
in the time when the sheep were getting ready to shear, Deirdre
seemed to be growing frustrated about something, and what it was, she
would not say. So sometimes she would be gone away somewhere, not
telling Meg where, and on those days Meg missed her more than she
expected.
By nights Meg would dream of strange things, of battles against
terrifying giants and hordes of warriors. She had fought for her Queen, once upon a time, but against hordes like that, surely not?
And yet in those dreams, there was a mysterious woman fighting beside
her, nearly as tall as her and just as willing to stand her ground.
One whose face was oddly familiar, whose voice was oddly familiar,
one who sang through all of any battle –
Yet she could never remember most of it upon waking.
One day, Meg was out in the forest, trying to find the hurtleberry
bush that she remembered. It was only by chance that she saw Deirdre
and Fia through the underbrush before they saw her. And what they
were doing, Meg might not have understood – but she remembered
Deirdre drawing with a stick in the mud. She had been drawing
something called "letters". So she was doing the same here,
in the mud of the riverbank, and Fia was looking very confused.
"Alright," signed Fia. "You've got this angled one,
and this half-circle, and then a straight one with a couple other
lines…and you, like, put them together? To form words? For what? I
guess I'm not getting it."
"Honestly," signed Deirdre, "I would not expect you
to get it with my limited teaching ability. I would have to sound out
each letter aloud, and that is not something I can do. I would need
your dad's help, and he would never help me. Not with this."
Meg considered getting closer, but if Deirdre wanted this
situation to be secret, she certainly did not need any input from
her…former ex-wife. Wife. Girlfriend. Significant other. What on
earth was Meg in relation to Deirdre, when she couldn't remember their
relationship but Deirdre could, and they were raising a child together
anyway? Partner? That was the most accurate word but the least
romantic.
Lost in thought, Meg did not step carefully as she had been doing
before. A twig snapped under her feet.
And there was Fia beside her. "You're really good," said
Fia. "You're the tallest person I know but you know how to hide
in the underbrush better than I do."
Meg shrugged. "If I hadn't learned how to sneak up on a boar
I'd have more scars. Now excuse me while I apologize to your mother."
She made her way out of the underbrush and down to the river bank,
where Deirdre was sitting, still with the stick in her hand, looking
forlorn.
Meg sat down beside her, and signed nothing for a while.
Then Deirdre nudged her. "Go on," she signed. "You
were going to apologize to me?"
"Sorry about listening in on a secret meeting," signed
Meg. "This reading business, though – can you tell me how it
works?"
"No," signed Deirdre. "I can't. I shouldn't. I'm
risking so much here…and I can't even tell you how. Tally knows
how. He had a right to be furious with me for even suggesting this.
But there is so much I know, now, and so much I want to tell
everyone! You gave me my years back but we only have so many of them,
and then I shall go down to the underworld once more – "
"With me this time," signed Meg.
"With you. With you?" Deirdre looked surprised. "Are
you beginning to remember yourself?"
"I can hardly remember," signed Meg. "Everyone
tells me I ran off to bring you back. I'm beginning to see why. My
life would sure be boring without you. You know, I kind of wonder if
I'd even stick around this place if not for you! Maybe Fia keeps me
here, or maybe you do. Conall said we wouldn't be separated. I'm
inclined to agree with him."
Deirdre grinned.
"What?"
"You lift my spirit," signed Deirdre, and she stood.
"For it seems I can attract you again, as I did once before. But
come, let us be going home."
And so they returned to their village, and Deirdre did not say
anything more that day of reading, nor did she the next, nor for long
afterward.