The only measure of our worth in this world is the love we leave behind us when we’re gone.

            ~ The Flirtations

Nothing Sweet About Sorrow

By Meghan Elizabeth Brunner

on’t go, Mama!” Trieanne Hackwrench threw herself desperately at her mother’s leg, clinging for dear life, sobbing.

                Sarah Haley looked at her husband Wilec despairingly, then to Tem, their mutual friend and soon-to-be baby-sitter, then to her daughter. The parents went about trying to pry her loose.

                “Bluebird, darling,” Wilec began, letting go of one of the child’s arms to remove the other, only for her to clamp on again, “Mama *puff* will be back *pant pant* soon. We won’t *pant* be gone *puff puff puff* long. We just have to *pant* help your Aunt Travinia *great gasp* out, okay? Boy this kid’s strong!”

                “Take me with,” the three-year-old wept.

                “Honey, we’d love to, but it’s just not possible. It’s dangerous,” the mother explained.

                “But you’ll get hurt!”

                “What about the rest of us?” Monterey Jack mumbled.

                “But Mama’s the one who won’t come back!”

                “Here.” She unfastened a fine silver chain sporting a crystal pendant and pressed it into her daughter’s hands. “I won’t ever leave you, see? Want to know how I’ll stay?”

                “How?”

                “When you hold this up to the sun, it makes rainbows, see?” She demonstrated.

                The young one’s eyes brightened. “And we always hunt rainbows together, right Mama?”

                “That’s right, sweetheart. So whenever you miss me, just hold this up to the sun and think of me smiling at you, all right?”

                Distracted by the marvel, Trie gave her parents and Monterey quick hugs and kisses farewell before scurrying off.

                “There’s no way I’ll be able to handle her anywhere near that well,” said Tem, throwing his hands up.

                “‘Course ya will, boy-o,” Monty grinned. “Ya jus’ gotta make it sound fun’s the trick. After that a little kid’ll do anythin’.”

                Wilec laughed. “Who’s the parent here, you or me?” To which his friend blushed.

                As soon as good-byes were said, the trio piled in the Screaming Eagle and took off.

                “I’m sorry,” Sarah blushed. “I didn’t know she’d... Trieanne has never done anything like that before; I...”

                “S’okay, dove. Probably just a phase she’s going through,” Wilec reassured her. “When she has a little brother or sister someday she won’t feel so isolated when we leave. And when we get back we’ll all go on a vacation. How’s that sound?”

                “Sounds great!” Monty piped up from the back seat; he and Sarah Haley took turns being navigator. Almost immediately, however, he blushed a deep crimson. “Er... that is...”

                Sarah smiled discretely at Wilec, who chuckled. “You too, Monty.”

                “You’re always welcome to join the Hackwrench vacations, Monterey,” Sarah reassured him. “After all, you’re part of the family; bluebird thinks of you like an uncle.”

                “Thanks, luv. Now, where is it ‘zactly we’re goin’?” Monterey had arrived less than an hour ago, out of breath and full of apologies. Wilec more than suspected a run-in with some cheese.

                The blonde mouse removed a letter from one of her pockets and handed it to Monterey; he read the large, rushed hand to himself.

   Dearest Sister, You were right about Bob. I don’t have time to explain. My daughter and I are trapped on the island marked on the map and urgently need your help to escape. Please hurry.

Love always, Travinia.

                When he finished studying the map long enough to look up, the lovebirds were softly talking.

                “... in another play, Wilec? I love you and Trieanne more than anything, but I miss the Sisters, and I miss acting, much as I vowed I would never return.”

                “I knew they couldn’t keep you away.” The pilot laughed softly, and his wife joined in. They both wore soft, loving smiles. Monterey cleared his throat, embarrassed at having eavesdropped.

                “Who’s this Bob bloke?”

                That silenced the actress’s laughter instantly; she abruptly made an intent study of the world out her window, drawing into herself.

                Wilec frowned. She hadn’t pulled away from him like that since Romeo and Juliet... “Dove? You all right?” he inquired gently, placing one hand over hers.

                “Hmm... what? Me?” She laughed feebly. “I’m fine. Bob... he’s just some guy... my sister and I knew him, before I left home. Last I heard, they got married. I guess Travinia finally learned what I found out while I was dating- anyway, it’s beside the point. My sister has asked for my help, and I cannot refuse. I only hope he hasn’t done to her what he...” She turned away again, and even Monterey Jack knew better than to press her.

                Wilec glanced at his comrade with concern; he had seen his love’s eyes right before she averted her gaze... they had been bright with barely checked tears.

*              *              *

   By the time they reached their destination, Sarah was more herself, if still a little grim. It was sundown already, so rather than attempt a rescue tired they decided to bed down for the night. They set up a cheerful campfire and talked merrily over supper. The men thought perhaps Sarah had forgotten about whatever had distressed her so, but Wilec awoke to find her bedroll empty.

   He found his love seated on a rock in a small clearing, moonlight caressing her wind-ruffled hair, her beautiful face... Too beautiful, heart and soul and body, to belong to such an imperfect planet, his mind whispered, awed at the ethereal, fey creature before him. He knew that if she sang her unearthly elfin voice would shatter his heart with her perfection. He walked softly to her, knelt before the moon-goddess he had fallen in love with, proposed to, and started a family with... “If I touch you, will you disappear like Avalon in the mist?” he asked in a hushed voice.

   She smiled and wordlessly held out her arms in invitation; he slipped into her embrace and kissed her gently.

    “I love you, sky,” she said, ever so softly, cuddling into his arms.

    “She speaks. O speak again bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air.”

    She laughed softly. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this; my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a kiss." She raised her husband’s hand to brush it with the promised kiss, but he pulled away, set her down. She faced him, kneeling as well, almost even for height. He grinned crookedly.

   "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." He demonstrated, placing his hands flat to hers.

   She moved her hands slightly away in the old mirror-game, held them there. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

   "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," he said with a serious mien, though his eyes sparkled merrily.

   "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." It was soft, near a whisper, delivered with an alluring smile.

   "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

   "Then move not while my prayer's effect I take." She moved her hands slightly to the sides; he followed reflexively. She leaned close, kissed him softly. "Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged."

   "Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” he murmured, coyly.

   "Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." She moved her hands toward him until he could no longer move them back; she laced her fingers with his and pulled him close. His arms encircled her tenderly, they kissed again. She waited a moment after they parted; he said nothing. “You forgot a line, sky,” she murmured from the comforting safety of his embrace, resting her head against his chest to listen to the quiet, steady thrum of his lifebeat.

   The pilot chuckled lowly. “That kiss would not fit in any book.” He gently stroked her hair; she closed her eyes at the touch. Even in the dark he could tell she was blushing. He buried his face in her tresses, silver-blonde in the moonlight... she smelled faintly of wildflowers and dried herbs. “Faerie, faerie... dove, thou’rt not mortal.”

   She looked up at him with a quiet smile. “Then we are a pair... I see your antlers, love.”

   “Then shall I call you, moon-goddess... now Maiden, now Mother...” He kissed her most satisfactorily. “Now and ever perfect.”

   She shivered slightly. “The tides... beat so fiercely here, but soft... like running barefoot...”

   “Perhaps the feet know best,” he murmured.

   “Perhaps they do at that,” she beamed, unwinding his scarf and tossing it aside.

*   *   *

   At first light the adventurers struck camp and started out for one of the few landmarks on the map: a tower with a scrawled “I’m here” and an arrow pointing to it. When they had flown by it in the night it had looked a foreboding stronghold; when they approached in the daytime it was just a decrepit turret, the only part of a ruined fortress that had survived centuries of exposure to the elements.

   Inside, the structure was little more than a huge flight of spiral stairs covered in layers of dust and dirt. Sarah led the way silently; Wilec followed with ever-deepening concern while Monty brought up the rear, occasionally muttering darkly to himself. About two-thirds of the way up the pilot called a halt for rest.  Monterey Jack sat down and began going through his pockets in search of something mildly edible. Sarah Haley retreated to a corner and sat down with her back against the next step up, head resting against the wall, knees tucked up under her chin as she stared blankly at nothing. Her husband quietly eased himself down beside her.

   “Dove?”

   No response.

   He gently kissed her. “What’s wrong, Sarah?”

   She smiled a wan smile and shrugged dismissively. “I guess it’s just the prospect of seeing my sister again.”

   “I thought you two got along.”

   “We did, but... well, I guess I’ve always been a little envious of her.”

   “Why? From what you’ve told me, your parents gave you all the attention.”

   “That’s just it. She was free to become whatever she wanted. She had no one she had to live up to except herself.” She sighed and got to her feet, brushing off her pants. “A silly thing, I suppose. Everyone rested up?”

   “Ready if you are, luv,” Monty agreed as he regained his feet, licking the last crumbs of snack from his fingers.

   Wilec simply nodded, taking her hand. Together the threesome continued on.

   Monty sighed, smiling faintly. He would never let anyone know it, but he had a bit of a romantic streak in him. He admired his friends -- so in love, with a beautiful daughter of their own -- and wondered if he would ever find anything like that. He firmly banished all thoughts with a shake of his head. No, he was a rover, a free spirit... how could he ever be tied down to one place? His life was not one for any lady. Sarah enjoys it, and she’s as much a lady as they come. Ah, but she’s one-of-a-kind. Where would a bloke like me ever find a sheila like that? Nope. There’s adventurin’ ta be had, an’ a woman’d only tie me down. Still, he couldn’t help but envy those two... at least a little.

   It didn’t take much longer for them to reach the iron door at the top of the tower. Intricate carvings provided ideal hand- and footholds to scale the door. Unfortunately, once they had climbed through an arrow-slit they discovered no fancywork on the other side and so were forced to jump. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything on the other side except stone, dirt, and three windows.

   “Travinia?” Sarah called out.

   A figure at one of the windows turned. “Sarah! I knew you’d come!”

   The blonde ran to the window and hopped up on the ledge, the two men following. She studied her sister, much like herself in figure but with rounder cheeks, curly black hair, and ragged clothes. Her face was smudged with dirt, but otherwise she looked hale and well.

   “Are you all right, miss?” Monterey asked, aware of the woman’s dark beauty. If Sarah’s got a sister, maybe...

   She began to sob. “Oh, Sarah, you were right about that horrible man! He threw me in here from the hole in the door! He intended to leave me here to die; I couldn’t climb out the hole because there was nothing to hold on to, and I can’t jump that far! If that wonderful bird hadn’t agreed to take my message to you, I’m just sure I would have died!”

   “Why didn’t you climb out the window?” inquired the pilot. “Or have the bird fly you out?”

   “But it’s so high! I’ve always been afraid of heights, and it just terrified me so to even look down!”

   Sarah Haley remembered no such thing. She remembered her sister on the tallest slide at the park, taunting the other little girls because they were afraid to go up. Alarm bells went off in her head, but by then it was too late.

   “Oh, Sarah, I’m so glad you’re here! Please help me get my baby back -- he took her! You’re my last hope!” cried the raven-tressed mouse, throwing herself at her sister.

   Sarah Haley Hackwrench did not so much as yelp in surprise as she lost her balance toppled out the window, her sister still holding tight to her.

   Wilec had no time to even reach out to catch her; she was simply gone. The look of shock and realization on her face filled his mind as a scream filled his ears... a scream that was not his wife’s.

   Abruptly, it stopped.

*   *   *

   Dizzy with relief, Sarah simply breathed, thankful for the privilege. She couldn’t believe she was still alive. After a handspan of moments, the mouse tried to get to her feet. It was more difficult than she had expected... she had landed on some sort of net.

   Net? What is a net doing here? Where is- Her train of thought was cut off as a familiar male figure appeared before her, dressed in black. “You!”

   “Happy to see me?” he jested, watching her try to keep her balance on the net as it swayed.

   “Othello,” she spat.

   “No, darling Desdemona,” he grinned wolfishly. “I go by ‘Darkness’ now.”

   She didn’t have time to make a comeback as he tackled her, holding a sharp-smelling cloth to her face. She struggled, but only had the strength to do so for an instant. The last sound she heard before the world faded into obscurity was a woman’s laughter.

*   *   *

   Wilec stood for a blank instant, gaping; he felt as if his heart had lept from his chest and over the edge after his love... He had an irrational thought that he should follow it to save her, but his feet were rooted. Everything was so still; it was eerie. He picked up a pencil lying on the windowsill... it had to be the one Sarah kept perpetually tucked behind her ear. When my stomach catches up to my brain, he thought woozily, I know I’m gonna be sick.

   Monty tugged on his arm. “C’mon, mate... there’s still a chance...”

   The pilot looked at him detachedly, it was as if he watched it all happening to someone else. Monty, despite encouraging words, looked a little green himself. “You’re right, Monty. She could’ve caught a branch on the way down, or landed on some moss or leaves or...” Spurred to action by his own words, he swung himself out the window, grabbed a vine growing up the side of the tower, and scrambled down with a speed only possible by virtue of fear, hope, and adrenaline. Finally he reached the ground, heard Monty drop down behind him.

   “She’s not here!” Monty exclaimed. “Sarah! Luv! Canya hear me?”

   The only reply was the far-off twitter of birds and the rustle of wind in the leaves.

   Wilec was nearly giddy with relief. “She must have survived somehow! C’mon, Monterey, let’s get to the Screaming Eagle. She couldn’t have gotten far!”

*   *   *

   Overhead, something melted from the sun and resolved into the form of a yellow-gold plane. Two women watched as it passed, each defiant after her own fashion.

   “You’d better hope to Pelee he never finds you.”

   The other, bound too securely to a tree to allow for the slightest movement, merely stared at her captor with eyes aflame.

   “He will, though.” She sneered. “I’m diluting the iocane so he’ll find you alive. You won’t stay that way long, and it’ll drive him mad. The rest of his life he’ll carry the burden of knowing he was just seconds too late. What will he tell your little girl, who will grow up half an orphan?”

   Travinia removed a small wooden vial from her pocket and uncorked it. She retrieved a water-filled chalice. It weighed strangely heavy, yet conformed perfectly to the grip of her hand... the marriage between cold metal and colder heart. She emptied a minuscule amount of fine powder in, delighting as lily-white solid dissolved instantly into crystal-pure liquid. So innocent-looking, this tainted water.

   “Destroying your loved ones is great fun, sis, but my prime concern is you. Sweet Sarah Haley, always a perfect angel, pleasing Mommy and Daddy like a good girl. I could never shine bright enough for them to notice me, so I quit trying. And while I was dark, do you know what did? I thought about how to get rid of you. I would be Mom and Dad’s little girl again, like everything was before you came. And guess what? My wishes are finally coming true. When this is over I can go back to Hawaii with Darkness and my daughter Leuani -- and have the time of my life, knowing at last I’m rid of you.”

   She checked the ground by the riverbed, ascertaining that prints from her large, heavy boots led down to the water, up to the tree, and back again. When she made her final flight she wouldn’t wear them, creating tracks the others would assume to be Sarah’s. The plane flew overhead oncemore, circling a few times. “I think your handsome prince has come to rescue you, Princess,” she sneered. “To true love! It conquers all -- except me!” She raised the chalice in a toast of victory, then held her kinswoman’s nose and, taking advantage of the gasp produced when frigid metal met the side of the blonde’s neck, ruthlessly upended the goblet’s contents into Sarah’s mouth.

   Sarah tried to spit the insidious liquid in her captor’s face, but Travinia clapped a hand over her victim’s mouth. Sarah held her breath until her lungs screamed for air, untill blackness rimmed her vision, rapidly closing -

   Muttering curses under her breath, Travinia harshly stroked her sister's throat, forcing her to swallow. Her mission accomplished, she stepped back. Both gasping and panting from exertion, they faced off, steely ice-blue eyes meeting the robin’s first egg of spring.

   “I should’ve known you’d make it hard for me.”

   “I don’t require a prince to rescue me. I can save myself, thank you.”

   She laughed. “Just like the old days! You never did realize when it’s hopeless.”

   “There’s always hope.”

   “Not this time. How fitting the stars that crossed Romeo and Juliet should cross their actors, too. I see they aren’t so fickle after all. I won! For all time, Sarah Haley! I won!” She triumphantly dropped the wooden vial and ran to the stream, dove in, and swam away.

   The heroine slumped as much as her bonds would allow. I love you, Wilec. I love you, Trieanne. I’m sorry. I tried. She bit her lower lip and held her breath, trying not to cry, trying so very hard not to cry...

*   *   *

   “Sarah!”

   The blonde raised her head at the Australian accent, countenance suddenly alight with a mimicry of hope and joy. “Monty! Wilec! Goddess, am I glad to see you two!”

   “No worries, luv; we’ll have ya out in half a shake.” Monty grinned, attacking the bonds imobilizing her feet while his partner sliced the ones at her hands. Her clothes were tattered, her face dirt-smudged and pale. She was the most beautiful sight that either had ever beheld.

   As the second the rope fell to the ground she flew into her sweetheart’s arms. “You found me!”

   “Of course I did, love!” he smiled, stroking her wildly tangled hair. He tucked the pencil behind her ear, could hear her muffled chuckle.

   Monty almost protested that he had helped, too, but something half-hidden in the grass caught his attention. He picked it up and turned the little wooden vial over in his hands, puzzling at it until he found rough block letters carved into one side. IOCANE.

   “Travinia and Leuani are safe -- of that much I am sure... though they want no more part of us or ours.” She shrugged. “Win a few, lose a few... And I guess I have to admit I won’t mind never seeing my sister again, at least... though I pity losing my little niece... In any event, we’ve no more to do here. Come on, let’s go home.” The heroine smiled, taking Wilec’s hand. One step later she swayed dangerously. The pilot put his arm around her waist to support her.

   “Sarah, are you all right?”

   “I’m fine.”

The foggy, disoriented expression in the actress’s eyes told a different story.  “No you’re not.” That said, he tenderly lifted her into his arms and started for the plane. “Monty? We’d better take off; Sarah’s not well. I think she might’ve hit her head in that fall from the tower.”

   “Wilec, no,” she protested, squeezing her eyes tight as she dug her fingers into the leather of his flight jacket. The world whirled about haphazardly; she held her breath, trying desperately not to cry out.

   Sarah would never admit she wasn’t well unless she couldn’t hide it, and she can hide almost anything! Wilec  knelt on the ground, holding her close. “Don’t hold your breath, dove; it’ll only make it worse. You’ll be all right as long as you keep fighting. I know you can do it! Just keep talking to me, Sarah, all right?” He lovingly smoothed the hair back from her forehead. Her breathing was impossibly shallow and far too slow...! This is no smack on the head. What’s wrong with her?! He felt her slip a little, once; his heart skipped a beat as he found his voice to sharply call her back. “Hang in there, dove! For me, and for our little girl, and for Monty...”

   “I’ll get some blankets from the plane,” Monterey volunteered, dashing off.

   With an effort the Juliet looked up at her Romeo and smiled as a tide of memories washed over her, everything dim until he entered. He has given me more than faerietales... if only there could be an ever-after... She fumbled a bit with the clasp, but finally managed to take off the silver dove necklace -- her first gift from him -- and place it in his pocket. He started to take it out, but she gently placed her hand on his. “No, sky. Keep it always, and remember me.” O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick...

   “I wouldn't need this to remember you, even if you were going anywhere -- which you aren’t. You’ll be all right, just hang in there.” He pressed her hand to his heart, as if by sheer force of will he could keep hers beating as well.

“I love you, Wilec. Always and forever, until the end of time and beyond. You’re my light, sky, you and Trie. Take care of our daughter for me.” She leaned against her love, exhausted, and closed her eyes. His image refused to stay focused, and she wanted to remember him as clearly as the first time they met, as clearly as their last night together...

   “I will, but you’ll be there, too, my love. We’ll get you home, and you’ll be fine; don’t you worry...”

   Love never dies... Sarah let his voice carry her along on a river of words she couldn’t make out but didn’t need to... he spoke the language of the soul, as much a part of her as of him. From heart to hand to heart he tried to pour his strength into her, but it could never be enough. Absorbed in the unparalleled love and security in his strong embrace, in the quiet, rhythmic beating of his heart, Sarah peacefully released consciousness, murmuring scarcely loud enough to be heard:

   “Love never dies...”

   Wilec felt his heart-song’s hand quietly slip from beneath his own. “Sarah?” he tried softly. Then, with an edge of panic in his voice, “Dove, are you with me? Sarah?!”

   Limp in his arms, head bowed, she did not respond.

   “No!”

His heart howled. She was gone, gone, gone, gone... would never smile at him again the way only she could. He would never again peek in on her telling faerietales to their little girl. Never again sign his name beside hers on holiday letters. Never again wake to hear that elfin voice singing light-hearted show tunes. Never again interrupt her dance with a broom to offer a live substitute when they cleaned the house together. Never again hear her say “Make a wish!” at some improbable moment. Never again feel her warm self cuddled on his lap. Never again gaze at the holiday tree with her snuggled close. Never again see that far-off look in her eyes as she stared out the window while washing dishes. Never again, never again, never again... It didn’t seem possible, not at all, not at all... Wilec held his love tightly, bent protectively over her, hid his face in her hair in an attempt to shut out the world... rocked back and forth, back and forth...

 “I love you, Sarah.”

   Her hair grew damp with the tears of a broken heart, a lost love, yet he never noticed. Juliet didn’t know anything. There’s nothing sweet about sorrow. Not when it’s real.

   The wind’s echo blew her voice, her last words, back to him.

   “Love never dies...”

*   *   *

   Wilec stared somberly at the slight mound of black earth before him and half-heartedly flung the shovel away with one hand, picked up a bouquet of flowers. He inhaled the sweet fragrance, then set them beside the tree with the tenderness one would use for placing a newborn in its bassinet. “Sarah loved flowers. She should have a whole field full of flowers, but I these are all I can find. I’ll plant some for her in the spring.”

   “Morning glories, mate. Those were her favorites, I think. Plant morning glories for her.”

   Rising, the pilot stared at an arrow-pierced heart boasting two names: Sarah Haley and Wilec. He remembered the day they carved it, right after their handfasting. She’d worn a simple dress. Just as well; no gown could ever do her radiance justice. Now two years were freshly etched below her name. With one finger he traced the numbers, a span of twenty-five between them. So young. We had so many years yet, a daughter, a brother or sister or two for her, watching them all grow up, spoiling our grandchildren, seeing the world together, who knows, maybe even get on stage again? You wanted that. All of it. I wanted to give it to you, and more.

   Silence reigned as the pair simply stood, letting the breeze pass over them, the darkness surround them.

   “Mate? You all right?” Monterey asked quietly, laying a thick hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

   The pilot looked up at him with an ironic smile made unreal by the moonlight. “Ever notice how warm and soft things look in the daytime? And in the rain, things look fresh and new. But on a clear night? Just the cold, hard moonlight staring down at you. And fall? Pretty leaves. A flash of brilliance, and then they’re gone... everything--resplendent--gone.” A vision crept through his mind, of Sarah the night he proposed. Was it really only four and a half years ago? Seemed like Sarah had been part of him forever. Forever... and no time at all. “So resplendent,” he whispered, and turned away. “No, I’m not all right. And I won’t be all right. Not ever. Not without my dove.” He laughed unsteadily, running a hand through his tuft of honey-brown hair. “Listen to me. Waxing poetic. It’s the sort of thing she would have said, if she had ever thought about things like that.”

   An awkward silence prevailed for a moment. Then, “Ya sure ya wanna do this, mate?”

   He did not hear; crazily words ran through Wilec’s mind... O my love; my wife! Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art not conquored. Beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and thy cheeks, and Death’s pale flag is not advanced there... Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe that unsubstantial Death is amourous, and that the lean abhorred monster keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that I will stay with thee and never from this pallet of dim night depart again... Two tears quenched the thirst of the bouquet, plucked in beauty’s prime; immediately the pilot was sorry he had taken them, but it was too late now, too late...

   “Mate?”

   Wilec shook himself. If he wasn’t careful he knew he would go spinning off the edge of insanity. Would it be so horrible? To break and stay in a million pieces? Maybe if I was mad I wouldn’t know she’s gone. I’d think we were still a family, Sarah, and me, and... Trieanne. No. She needs me. A resigned look came over him.  “I have to, Monterey. I need to spend one more night -- one last night -- alone with Sarah before I can go home.” He remembered his last night with his love in his arms, exhausted but happy... content just to hold her close and listen to the soft rhythm of her breath. He squeezed his eyes against stinging tears and the pain that flickered in his heart.  No one to call me sky, now... “Trie’ll need someone stable, and I can’t give her that unless I do this first. Wake me when the sun comes up. I want to watch my little girl sleep, see her happy before I tell her she’ll never see her mom again. I’d say good-night, but it isn’t. Pleasant dreams, then, but I know neither of us will have them.” Wilec laughed softly, beyond tears as he stared at the sky. Unreachable stars.... Faerie, Faerie... dove, thou’rt not mortal...

   Monterey knelt briefly, placed a flower of his own near those Wilec had offered, softly murmured, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust; life’s mirror tarnished, memories ne’er rust.” Ye were too beautiful for this world, Sarah. Inside an’ out, too beautiful... He would not let himself cry. Not here, not now. Some part of Monty understood that just as Trieanne needed her father to keep her together, so did her father need him. So long, Sarah. We’ll all miss ya, luv. Ye were like a sister ta me. He rose to leave, but the pilot briefly touched his arm, pressed something into his hand: one small, sunny-blonde tress -- almost silver in the moonlight.

   The tallest nodded understanding and thanks, but said nothing. A good friend knows when to be silent.

*   *   *

   Monterey Jack settled himself under the Screaming Eagle’s wing, shivered a bit as he stared up at the sky. He frowned to himself, muttered under his breath, “No time ta let fancies start takin’ ya, Monty. Not now. Not when yer best mate needs ya.”

   He glanced around the plane to see the massive tree not far distant. He knew it was wrong to spy, but... as Tacy would have said, “desparate times call for desparate measures.” Monty remembered all too well his own experience with heartbreak, remembered wanting to curl up in a corner and die somewhere and to heck with the rest of the world. He had been on his way to the church when his sweetheart deserted him... how much worse it must be for Wilec, to know Sarah would’ve stayed if death hadn’t snatched her? The pilot was generally quite even-tempered -- unlike himself, he had to admit. Still, a shock like that could easily knock a few screws loose, enough to make a mouse do something drastic before they could get tightened down again.

   Nah! Wilec’d never do somethin’ like that! Would he....? The Australian wasn’t so certain... he’d never known his mate to say anything like he had in the past half hour, either. The simple truth of the matter was this: no one can understand another’s capability for darkness. Or even their own, come down to it, until they walk those graveyard paths,  whispering through something black as a Vampyre’s cloak at midnight. Not until they converse with the night, hold it and feel it ooze into their veins, pulsing to the life-beat until it seems there’s more night than blood. Not until a person reaches for a knife to find out can they understand the capability for darkness.

   He shook off the thought. “Now who’s waxin’ grizzly poetic?” he quipped wryly. The image wouldn’t fade entirely. So I’ll jus’ keep ‘im away from anythin’ sharp fer a while. An’ anythin’ else dangerous. An’ check up on ‘im once in a while. Keep ‘im talkin’; that’ll make sure he doesn’t go off sulk somewhere an’- He shook himself again, forbidding further thought. Probably die of grief, more like. Useta think that stuff’s only fer faerie-tales, but then, useta think the same ‘bout True Love.

   All right, Monty, assume ‘is ‘eart breaks an’ takes the rest of ‘im with it. Or he somehow gets past me guard and manages to... fergets about Trie for a minute, an’... Trie. Well, I suppose that would leave me ta watch over ‘er, wouldn’t it? It was a sobering thought. A little frightening, even. I don’t know a blumin’ thing ‘bout raisin’ a kid! An’ what kinda life would mine be for a little mite like Trie? Guess I’d hafta settle down fer a bit. That was even more frightening. Well, Monterey Jack, there’s some things in life what’re more important than adventurin’. It would only be until she’s big enough ta come ‘long with. Even so.... I’ll jus’ hafta make sure it doesn’t come to that.

   With that thought he settled down to spend a sleepless night; he didn’t want to consider the dreams that might be born from such a day... His heart was oddly at peace, though; he knew, deep down, what he’d do if push came to shove. 

*   *   *

   With a heavy heart Tem plodded through the “Cast and Crew Only” door of the theatre.  He’d offered to stay with his friend and help out, but Wilec had refused. “Sarah wouldn’t want you to miss rehearsal because of her,” the pilot had explained. He’s got Monty; at least he won’t be alone. Poor Trie. Poor Sarah. So young... His thoughts were abruptly cut short as someone collided with him.

   “Oh! I’m sorry, Tem! I was too busy trying not to fall out of these stupid heels to remember to look where I was going. Are you okay?”

   “Yeah, fine Caprice,” he replied absently. She’s what, now, thirteen? fourteen?Hasn’t grown much.

   “You sure?” She frowned in concern, tugging her long, nut-brown braid. “You don’t look so fine.”

   He took a deep breath, steeling himself to carry out the one thing Wilec had requested: tell the Sisters of the Stage about Sarah. The youngest actress’s starry hazel eyes haunted him. He knew full well what Caprice felt for Sarah Haley.  I can’t. I just can’t do that to her. I can’t kill that light in her; I would never forgive myself.  “I’m sure, Caprice.”

   She looked skeptical. “Sure you’re sure?”

   A small part of Tem chided, This is your last chance. If you don’t tell her, it means you can’t tell the other Sisters. It means you can never face Wilec again. Tem mentally shrugged it off. So be it. He firmed his resolve and his countenance. He was, after all, an actor. “Positive. Just didn’t get much sleep last night is all. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Are you okay?”

   “Be a lot happier when I learn how not to fall off these things. Why do women wear them, anyway?”

   He smiled at the faint echo of Wilec’s complaint about stage makeup. “To impress the guys, I guess.”

   “Huh. I’d credited us with a little more sense with that. Me too. Well, if a stage kiss means nothing, stage heels mean even less.”

   Her funny logic made Tem laugh out loud. “I suppose you’d have the right of it there! Come on, Tacy probably can’t wait to get started with rehearsal....”

*   *   *

      Beautiful blue eyes, slightly fogged with pain and exhaustion and fear, met his. “I’m not ready. Not now; I can’t do this anymore...”

   He stroked sweat-damp hair from her forehead. She was so beautiful, especially now... there was a power in her that awed him, made her seem not quite real. “You’re doing wonderful, dove. It won’t be too much longer now.” With one arm around her waist to lend support, he helped her walk the length of the room and back. Monterey was telling another tale at her request, making himself useful until it was his turn to walk her again. Aletna was in the corner brewing yet another cup of tea.

   “I’m so tired,” Sarah whispered when she stumbled for the third time in half as many minutes.

   Wilec stopped, turned her to face him, kissed her brow... he was about to say something when she gasped sharply, clinging to him. But would not make a sound. The pilot held her as best he could, pouring his strength into her. At length she relaxed, leaning against him; noiseless sobs racked her.

   “Soon, Sarah, I promise, and you’ll hold your beautiful baby...” he murmured, stroking her hair, wishing with all his might he could have the pain for her... Not that he knew much about such things, but she seemed to be having an unusually hard time of it. It was taking so long...

   “Oh, Goddess!”

   It was the first time she had cried out; Wilec was so startled and the fit so strong that she nearly ripped free from his grasp.

   Monty was there in half an instant, gently but firmly holding her up from behind, Aletna by his side.

   “It’s time, Sarah. The baby’s almost here; it’s time to kneel now...”

   Wearily she nodded; Monterey helped her down to the soft, clean straw. He was the strongest. Wilec took his love’s  hands while the midwife prepared to catch the child.

   “Just a little longer, dove...”

   “Push, Sarah!” the titan-haired mouse commanded. “Push hard!”

   Wilec was sure Sarah would break every bone in his hands, she clasped them so hard...

   An outraged wail rent the world; time swirled as the new-made mother slumped near to fainting against Monterey. And Aletna, beaming, proffered a beautiful child in lavender swaddlings. “A daughter.” Monterey, grinning fit to split his face, whooped at the news.

   Sarah looked as radiant as he felt, softly kissed the shock of bright blonde hair on the infant’s head -- it promised to be every bit as unruly as her father’s tuft of honey-brown. She’d inherited her father’s ears, too, but her coloring and those eyes....! Most definately from her mother. “Trieanne Namid Hackwrench,” she whispered. “Welcome to the world...”

   Beautiful blue eyes... closed in sleep. A little girl, three years old. Hair the color of spun gold, a soft pink in her cheeks. A peaceful smile of pleasant dreams on her lips. One small hand closed around a crystal pendant. Such a beautiful child. Trieanne Namid. Peace of the star-dancer.

   Wilec leaned against the doorframe, gazed at her with a heart filled with love and regret. He watched her a long while, capturing her in his mind for all time. He stayed until he couldn’t bear to look on her with the knowledge he possessed, then turned and wandered, lost, into the living room. There was a thick book on the table; absently he leafed through it. Small, precice, elegant handwriting met his eyes, interrupted by an occasional sketch or pressed flower: Sarah’s scrapbook, memory-snapshots of the world through her eyes. There was that page, made maybe three days ago: the outline of his hand, Sarah’s slightly smaller traced within it, Trie’s tiny little paw in the center. There was a half-finished poem at the bottom, cut off in mid line. He turned the page. Blank. He let the book thump shut heavily. He would put it in Sarah’s hopechest, save it for his little girl. Myabe that way when she was older she’d be able to know a bit of her mom.

   Monterey Jack changed his focus from the bare spot on the wall across the room. “Didja decide how to tell her?”

   “No.”

   “Ya want me to tell her?”

   “No. I have to.”

   “Good. Not that I wouldn’t, mate, if ya wanted me to, but -”

   “I understand.”

   “Good.”

   “Monterey?”

   “Yeah?”

   “If anything happens to me...”

   The huge mouse’s blood ran cold at the echo of his previous night’s musings. “Mate, yer not thinkin’-”

   “No, Monty,” he cut in quickly. “Nothing like that. I won’t orphan her if there’s anything in my power that can stop it. But you never know what can happen, Monty. Sarah proved that much to us. And if anything ever happens to me, I want to know Trie will be taken care of.” His solemn gaze locked with Monty’s. “Will you do that for me? As soon as you know I’m gone, do you swear you’ll look after her like a father?”

   He nodded gravely. “May I never again taste Brie ‘86 if I don’t.”

   Wilec smiled faintly; it was the strongest pledge Monty knew. “Thanks, Monty. From Trie, too.”

   Monterey leaned back in the chair with an uneasy smile. “Jus’ don’t you go makin’ me have to keep up my end of the bargain. I’m sure Trie’d much rather have her real dad.”

   Wilec chuckled unsteadily, but silence gobbled up the end of it. The kind of silence that makes small sounds echo like thunder. Sounds like a bed creaking, and two small feet padding down the hallway. The pilot’s heart stopped as the child peeked around the corner. Her face lit as she rushed to him.

“Papa! You’re home!”

   “I sure am, bluebird.” He smiled, pulling her up on his lap and holding her close.

   “And Monty! And- Where’s Mama? I want to read a story to her. Is she making breakfast?”

   “Um, no, honey.”

   “Then where?” She pulled away from him, suddenly wary. Something was wrong... very wrong. “Where is she, Papa?”

   “Trieanne,” he took a deep breath to steady himself.

   “Yes?”

   “Those faerie stories you liked Mama to read you before bed...”

   “I read them to her, now, too, remember?” She beamed. “I promised I’d read her Snow White when she came home. My favorite part’s the end when the wicked Queen poisons Snow White, but then the Prince comes along, and he kisses her, and she wakes up, and they live Happily Ever After.”

   “Well, things aren’t always that simple.”

   “Why not?”

   “The good guys don’t always win, Trie.”

   “Of course they do! True Love Conquers All!”

   “In stories, yes. But in real life, the bad guys have to win some, too.”

   She looked quizzically at her father. “What are you saying, Papa?”

   “Trieanne, honey, sweetheart... the bad guys won this time.”

   “I’m sorry.” She gave him a fierce hug, then pulled away. “Where’s Mama? I need to give her an ‘I’m sorry’ hug, too.”

   “You can’t, bluebird. The bad guys won this time, and... they took your mother. Like the wicked Queen.”

   Trie fixed an uncertain gaze on him. “So why didn’t you save her? Like the Prince did? When he kissed Snow White, she woke up. It worked for Sleeping Beauty, too, and a whole bunch of other ones.”

   “I couldn’t wake her up. Do you understand?” he asked gently, taking her hands.

   Slowly she pulled away from his touch, curiously calm, and looked him straight in the eyes. “I understand, Papa. You didn’t save Mama. And neither did you, Monty. You both let her die.”

   “Trieanne, luv -” Monty cut in.

   She didn’t let him finish as she jumped off her father’s lap, voice rising with anger. “I’ll never, never see Mama again, and it’s all your fault! I didn’t even get to say good-bye! I hate you!”

   “Honey, you don’t really mean -” He stood and reached out to her, but she shrank away.

   “I hate you both! I never want to see you again! Never!” she screamed, whirling and pattering down the hall at top speed, her favorite teddybear dragging behind. A second later the door to her room slammed.

   The word hung in the air like a gunshot, the after-image of its sound burned into their minds with sulfur and brimstone. Wilec stood frozen, unbelieving, staring after her.

   “I thought she was too young to understand...” he trailed off weakly. But then, he had thought she had been too young to read.

   “Mate...”

   Wilec rose, waving him off, and stumbled from the room looking disctinctly ill. And utterly lost.

   Monterey sank back into the chair’s cushions. He’d never resented his pal’s getting married and settling down. He supposed some people would’ve blamed the woman for breaking up their partnership, but Sarah was so caring and shy that it seemed ludicrous to suspect her of such a thing. Besides, Monty understood love well enough. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would’ve given up everything for Desirez... maybe even the cheese, if he’d known it would come between them.  So this is what it all comes to, true love... young an’ happy with the world at their feet one day, and the next... An’ I was hopin’ for this?! Monterey Jack, ya blinkin’ idiot! I wouldn’t be in that bloke’s shoes for all the cheese on the moon! Nope, I was right the first time. Stay away from women; they ain’t nothin’ but trouble! Even if Sarah was such a sweet lass, look what came of that!

    He forced himself to get up, to move, anything but sit and stew. Stew. Maybe cooking. Somebody would get hungry, sooner or later, and he didn’t trust his mate to the kitchen; no knowing what the loony would concoct in his condition. And like as not it wouldn’t even have cheese in it.

   The kitchen was spotless, as ever. He idly flipped through the recipe cards. Alphabatized. Sarah’s work. She’s -- was -- always a great one for organization. Was. Sarah. Ah, luv...  Marshmallows and cheese. That always cheers them up.  .  .  .  made it for the first time during that play.  .  .  Sarah, luv, why’dja leave.  .  .  ? No. If I’m this bad, imagine poor Wilec. Gotta be strong. For him. For Trie. For... Sarah.

   Despite all his resolutions, the Marshmallow Cheese Surprise was seasoned with tears.

*   *   *

   Trieanne threw down her bear and yanked the necklace over her head. She bounded onto the windowseat and thrust it to the sky, demanding. After a moment she bowed her head and lowered the pendant. She held it tenderly in both hands. “Why would you smile, Mama? It’s too gray out. No sunshine.” Tears blurred her vision, and two carved paths down her face. “No more sunshine.” Then in a whisper, “No sunshine without you.”

 *   *   *

   “It’s no use, Monterey. It’s just not the same.” Wilec sighed, rising and walking to the window.

   “Whaddya mean, mate?”

   “Playing chess with you’s a lot different than playing with Sarah.”

   “Why’s that?”

   “I couldn’t beat Sarah six times in a row.” If anything it would be the other way around.

   “Hold on now, there, mate; ye’ve only beat me five times. This game’s not over yet! It’s still your turn.”

   He turned back and replaced Monty’s white-garbed Queen piece with his own black-armored Knight. “Check and mate.” He sighed. After all the times he had won with the white side, Monterey had insisted it was rigged and demanded switching places. He looked at the Queen, almost a perfect image of Sarah, then at the King, remarkably like himself. Tacy had made the set for a handfasting gift. He looked again at the piece in his hand. It was the only time he had ever taken the Queen. “The Queen fell defending the King, but the King fell anyway.”

   “I’m sorry, mate.”

   “You did what you thought had to be done. So did she. She wouldn’t tell me who did it. I asked, but she kept silent.”

   “She prob’ly didn’t hear ya. She was pretty zoned, ya know.”

   Heroes in stories die in epic battles, saving the world from Evil. But Sarah, dove, so quiet... you wouldn’t want any legends anyway... Cinderella lost her shoe, but then, you always had your own way of doing things...“It doesn’t matter; she wouldn’t say anything even if she heard. She wanted me to take care of Trie, not avenge her. I can’t do either of them right.” The pilot wearily plopped down on the sofa.

   “Now, mate, don’t you go startin’ that again.”

   “What if I’d pushed the gas a little harder? What if I’d found the keys a little quicker?”

   “‘S not yer fault. It’s whoever did it to poor Sarah.”

   “Don’t pity her, Monty. She wouldn’t want it. Sarah never wanted anyone to feel sorry for her, and it won’t bring her back. I just wish I knew who did it so I could make him pay like my little girl is paying. She needs somebody to hold her and tell her it’s all right. And just when she needs it the most, she won’t even look at the two people who could help.”

   “Wilec -”

   “I go by her room sometimes to see if she’s okay, just to hear her. No matter what time of day or night I check, she’s always up reciting what she knows from Romeo and Juliet, or reading faerie tales out loud -- probably to Sarah’s picture. She sings lullabies to herself. She shouldn’t do that. Sarah should, or me. But Sarah can’t go to her, and Trie won’t let me in. Sometimes I even walk by her room when she must be asleep, but she always wakes up screaming for her mother. And I can’t do a thing to make her feel better.” He gazed out the window. “It’s storming out. Bluebird’s scared of the thunder; I hope she’s okay.”

*   *   *

   A terrified girl sat on the wing of the plane, curled into a ball and pressed against the cold metal wall. She had been going to run away, but terror of the storm pinned her in place. Rain torented down, beating her, and she pulled back from it and the wind whipping around her. “I’m so scared, Mama,” she whispered to a picture she held close. “So scared.” She started for the window, looking back as if afraid the storm would pursue her.

   Forked lightning split the sky, reflecting in the dilated blackness of her eyes. She jumped back under the blow of thunder. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she huddled, terrified, trying to make herself as small as possible. Too petrified to stay, and even more frightened to leave, she remained immobile until another assault decided the matter for her. She bolted through the open window and latched it behind her, panting.

   Trieanne held up the pendant. “You can’t smile like this. You’re angry, Mama. You’re never angry. Is it me? Am I making you mad?”

   The heavens turned a brilliant white and roared at her. She jumped from the windowseat, grabbed her teddy bear, and fled the room. At the living room entryway she heard voices and halted, keeping as quiet as possible.

   “ ...I put food by her door, it ends up in the fridge. I stay away from the fridge, nothing disappears.”

   “There was that carton of ice cream...”

   “You’re right, Monty, but other than that she hasn’t eaten in three days! I’m about ready to break down the door, tie her to a chair, and force feed her if I have to! I would, Monty. I love her more than life itself, and I’m... I’m scared I’m gonna lose her, Monty.”

   Trieanne bit back a sob as her eyes flooded with tears. She flew into the living room to throw her arms around her father’s knees. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” she wept.

   Wilec, understandably startled at this sudden change of events, recovered enough to pull her onto his lap and hold her close. “Shhh, honey. It’s all right,” he crooned, petting her hair.

   “No it’s not. I said it was your fault she didn’t come back, but it wasn’t. It was mine. I didn’t keep her here. I didn’t make her stay, and I said it was your fault.” Thunder crashed, making her tears come all the faster. “And now she’s mad at me!”

   “No she isn’t, luv,” Monty tried. “‘S just a storm.”

   “She is. She’s mad at me. She hates me.”

   Much soothing later, Trie finally fell into a fitful drowse in Wilec’s arms. The worried parent looked beseechingly at his friend for an answer, but you can’t get cheese from a rock. They remained like that well over an hour, reassuring the little one whenever the heavens collided until Wilec, lulled into the place between sleep and awake when his daughter quit struggling, snapped back into reality and frowned down at his charge.

   “What’s wrong?”

   “She’s shivering.”

   “I’ll get a blanket.”

   “But she’s so warm! Sweetheart, wake up. Bluebird? Trie?” He pressed a hand to her forehead, and his eyebrows shot up. “Better get some washcloths instead, and -”

   “A thermometer an’ cold water, right-o!” He was back in moments; Trieanne whimpered and woke at the touch of the cool compress.

   “Papa?”

   “Right here, sweetheart.”

   “So cold...”

   “I know, bluebird. Hold this under your tongue, okay?”

She obeyed, snuggling closer for warmth.

When three minutes passed, Wilec held the little glass tube up to the light and frowned. “I don’t think I’m reading this thing right. Monty?”

   He repeated the process, eyes widening in startlement. “I hope I’m not readin’ it right.”

   “I think we came up with the same number.”

   “What’s it say?” the littlest asked, only mildly interested.

   “It says you’re pretty hot, bluebird.”

   “No I’m not. I’m cold.”

   “It all comes with bein’ sick, luv,” Monty informed her, but she never heard; her eyes slid closed and her breathing dropped to that of deep sleep.

   Wilec carried his daughter to her bedroom and waited for Monterey to pull the unused bed-clothes back before tucking her in.

   “I’ll go make some soup or somethin’, ‘kay?” the Aussie offered.

   The pilot nodded wordlessly. All she’s had is ice cream... Sarah must’ve eaten cartons of the pralines and cream kind when she was carrying Trie. She wanted some before we left but we were in too much of a hurry... Tears welled in his eyes, regretting that they hadn’t stopped anyhow... Wilec shook himself. Fool, can’t cry over the children you’ll never see, but start bawling over the thought of ice cream. Keep your mind on the living; weep for the dead later. About fifteen minutes later, he glanced at the door. I’ll only be gone a couple minutes. She’ll never even know.  I’ll be right back, he assured himself before rising.

   “Hey, mate.”

   “Just came in for a glass of water for bluebird. She might want some when she wakes up.”

   “Good thinkin’.”

   Wilec filled the purple plastic cup -- Trie’s favorite -- and paused in the middle of adding a couple ice cubes. Sarah never took ice with her water.

   “The ice’ll make it cold. Probably a good idea to put some in.”

   “Yeah.” He finished and turned to his friend’s unreadable look. “I’m okay, Monty. I have to be.” He laughed hollowly. “What other choice is there?”

   Monty nodded as if he had known as much all along. “Soup’ll be ready in a few.”

   The father nodded woodenly and returned to Trieanne’s room... only to discover her missing from her bed. She wasn’t far away, though; he found his little daughter clutching a large toychest in a determined effort to stay on her feet.

   “Have to get to the bookshelf,” she murmured resolutely.

   “Trie?” He put a hand on her shoulder.

   “Have to keep going.”

   “Bluebird.”

   “Can’t stop.”

   He got down to her level and looked directly in her eyes, but she looked right through him with a slight glaze to her baby blues.

   “Kiddo, it’s me. It’s Papa.”

   “If you read, you forget you’re alone.”

   “You’re not alone!”

   “You forget your tired, and you won’t sleep. The dreams won’t come.”

   “This is insane. Trieanne Namid Hackwrench, look at me!”

   “Just need to make it to the bookshelf. Then it’ll be okay.” Her face, previously flushed an unnatural pink from the fever, went deathly pale. “You forget you’re cold. You forget how the world spins.”

   Frantically he took her wrist in his fingers; her pulse fluttered by so fast he could scarcely count it.

   She squeezed her eyes tight, her breathing rapid and strained. “You forget how the world spins.” With a soft cry she crumpled to the floor, her father catching her.

   “Hang in there, Trieanne,” he coaxed, holding her close and pressing a cool cloth to her forehead as she shivered uncontrollably. “You’ll be all right. Just keep fighting, and you’ll be fine.” Don’t leave me, Trieanne... please... you’re all I have left...

   A scant minute or two later, Monterey Jack entered with the soup, which he almost dropped when he saw the frightened look his best friend wore. Hastily the musclebound rodent knelt beside the chair and pressed a hand to the little girl’s face. It required conscious effort to refrain from flinching. “Luv, wake up. Trie?”

   She half-opened her eyes and smiled faintly. “Mama?”

   The men exchanged silent, troubled glances before Wilec spoke. “No, honey. Mama’s- she’s in the kitchen. She sent Monterey in with some soup. She- she wants you to eat it, bluebird. Can you do that for Mama?”

   Trie nodded, and the Aussie managed to feed her half a bowl before her eyes began to drift closed.

   “Bluebird? Can you look at me a minute?”

   Groggily but obediently, she complied.  Wilec retrieved a penlight from his pocket and shone it in her eyes.

   No sooner did the tiny point of light flick on than her hands flew up to cover her face. “Too bright!”

   Wilec re-pocketed the device and held his child close, stroking her hair and talking of soothing nothings until she went limp in his arms.

   “Well?” his companion tried.

   The pilot looked at his adventuring partner with so many emotions he knew he couldn’t put a name to half of them. Sarah, if you can hear me, help our little girl! She’s too young to join you...When he spoke, his voice was low and intent. “Monterey, we can’t leave her for a second tonight. If we do, it might very well cost Trieanne her life.”

   Monterey nodded affirmation, wide-eyed, and gulped.

   It was easily the longest night of either of their lives, anxiously mopping the little girl’s brow, soothing her the infrequent times she awoke, and jumping to count her pulse and check her breathing each time her sleep quieted. Dawn saw little change in her condition despite their efforts, and by the next evening Wilec could scarcely keep his eyes open. Bluebird as well had begun to weaken, for she rarely even stirred. The simple effort of breathing had become difficult, and the caretakers began to despair. Oncemore placing his hand on his daughter’s forehead, the mouse looked to his friend with the eyes of one on the verge of tears. Suddenly he grabbed up his little girl, briskly striding down the hall. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair, he pleaded silently.

   “Monterey, get a cloth and hot water. Don’t argue, just do it!”

   Uncomprehending but lacking a better plan, the Aussie did as he was bidden. When he finished, he stepped into the washroom to find his pal holding Trieanne -- jumper and all -- in a tubfull of cold water, her hair soaked, gasping for breath.

   Wilec wordlessly allowed Monty to support his bluebird as he soaked the cloth and pressed it over the girl’s nose and mouth, resaturating the rag occasionally. At length she awoke, disoriented and afraid, and tried to cry out.

   “Hush, luv,” Monterey Jack comforted. “Jus’ breathe deep, ‘kay?”

   She nodded, giving it her best effort as she squeezed her father’s hand. Now, Sarah! the father silently begged. If you intend to do anything, do it now! An instant later, the child’s grip relaxed and she went limp; Wilec kissed her forehead, then scrambled to take her pulse. Hurriedly he hauled her out of the water and held her inert form close, rocking his young daughter.

  Tears welled within the large mouse’s eyes. This is too cruel, ta make him lose his love an’ his baby! It ain’t fair! It ain’t - Grief robbing him of words, he simply bowed his head, rising to put a hand on his best buddy’s arm. “Mate, I -”

   Wilec looked up, such an expression of complete joy on his face that the Aussie was sure he must have lost his marbles. “She’s better, Monty!”

   Not sure which way to take that, Monterey repeated his friend’s earlier actions, eyes wide. “Oh, mate! Ya had me worried there!”

   Deaf to the world, the father tenderly carried his daughter to her room, where the sun was just rising. From the little girl’s hand dangled her mother’s crystal pendant. Wilec gently removed it, held it up. Hundreds of tiny rainbows painted the walls. Tears of relief and heart’s loss flowed down his face simultaneously as he raised his eyes to the window, spoke in a voice ragged with emotion.

   “Thank you.”

                And ever after, he would swear he felt a brief warmth surround him, a soft voice whisper:

                “Love never dies.  .  .  ”

Sarah Haley,Tocwildi, Caprice, Tem, Darkenss, & Travinia are copyright Meghan Brunner. Wilec, too... sort of. Other characters copyright Disney, used without permission. Events & characters are purely fictitional to those with a limited imagination. ;)

~with mooncrystal to Dee Budde Duckwall, elfin-spirit bright as Sarah, voice as wild & beautiful & free...~

~In memory of  Odie, who joined Sarah on Thursday, July 10, 1997.

Go gently, shining star, may we meet in happier wheres..~