a boulder, and his head barely cleared the thundering surface of the rapids. His arms were stuck; he could not move.
‘Reed,’ I said, ‘hold onto this root.’
‘No, Ima, don’t leave me.’
‘Do not let go. Do you hear me? Do not let go.’
‘Ima.’
I placed your arms around the root, tying your cloak in a tight knot around it so that now you were lashed to the ground.
I held your face.
‘I will be back soon.’
With that I left you crying, and surrendered myself to gravity. In seconds I was down at the boulder, against which I slammed my boots to stop. The broken trunk was lodged against Jorne’s chest, but he was not impaled; the splintered base had skewered the bank side, and the other end of the tree was firmly wedged into the rocks beside what was left of our dwelling. Jorne’s eyes were rolling, and the river slithered in dangerous ribbons over his neck and chin. He would soon be beneath it. The tree would have to be moved.
I eased myself down beside him so that my back and hands were against the boulder and my boots were on the tree. As I braced to push, something made me pause, and I looked up at you. You were still safely tied to the root, but watching me with a look of horrified expectation. I should have faced you the other way, I thought. But there was no time to remedy this, for the sliding ground would not wait. So, with our eyes locked, I pushed with all my strength—which is a great deal—and the tree trunk sprang away, crashing harmlessly into the water.
I grabbed Jorne before he went with it, and heaved his barely conscious body up onto the bank as the water continued upon its relentless path.
My eyes were on you as I prepared to leave the water, and your astonished expression at what you had just witnessed.
My mind was on what I would tell you when you asked me to explain.
So I did not see the shadow from the right, and I was too late to stop the stray mound of earth from slamming into me, dragging me down in a spiral of foam and dirt, deeper beneath the water and further away from you, until all was black and gone.
— TWENTY-EIGHT —
CURTAIN.
The word billowed through my mind like the object it named. Curtain. The same shape too. Two thin consonants forming the hem, the rolling ‘r’ its breeze-swollen fabric, and its tail trailing in a lingering ‘n’.
Curtain. Un-curtain. Uncertain. All white. Warm sun. A clear word. An empty word. A first word.
I looked around, eyes wide now after their slow blink into consciousness. I was in a bed. The walls were stone. My mother’s place.
‘Hello, Ima.’
She smiled from her seat beside the bed. She was wearing one of her Spring dresses and her hair was braided. I pulled my hand from where it lay beneath hers.
I remembered the hurricane, the tree, the impact, the submersion.
I sat up.
‘What happened?’
Pain shot through my head. I gripped it in both hands, unable to speak.
My mother gave a frown of concern, shushing me.
‘Calm down, child, you have had an accident.’
‘Where is Reed?’ I managed to say through gritted teeth.
‘He is perfectly intact. Caige’s scouts found him wandering down through the forest towards Fane.’
‘And Haralia?’
My mother smiled with love.
‘She and Jakob also escaped unharmed.’
I thought of Jorne, unconscious on the riverbank.
‘Take me to Reed.’
I tried to leave the bed, but was instantly flattened by another wave of pain.
‘What is this?’
My mother’s face hovered above mine, haloed in sunlight.
‘Please, Ima, you are not well. You have been concussed.’
‘How long have I been unconscious?’
She hesitated. The corners of her mouth flickered.
‘A little over two days.’
I blinked up at her, resisting the urge to jump from the bed though every fibre of my being was telling me to do so.
Two days? This was impossible.
I spoke as slowly and as clearly as I could, though my mind was reeling.
‘Why… how have I been unconscious for two days.’
‘You nearly drowned, Ima, and you took a huge impact. Your head was very badly damaged.’
‘It would have healed. Why did it not heal?’
‘It did, but brain injury takes time.’ She laughed, as breezy as the curtain. ‘It is not just any old muscle you know.’
‘But I am still in pain. Why?’
A look of trouble crossed her face.
‘A side-effect of the medication.’
‘What medication?’
‘We had to sedate you.’
‘When?’
‘A number of times. The last time was two hours ago.’
‘Why?’
‘You were awake and