Over the next several days, I put healing salve on my sister’s yoni hoping it might relieve the soreness she still felt from the stretching during her labor. Her leg, still swollen, did not respond to any salve or poultice I had. It worried me, but even more of a concern was that we would be out of food soon - I would need to hunt. Perhaps while I was in the village I would find something that might help heal Mahi-A’s leg.
Burning the old bed and boiling the birth-bloodied blankets outside one morning, I put my mind to how I might get to the village and back without detection. I could think of no way of doing so in a direct path - I would have to take extra time and go by a different route. I could not risk having someone from the village follow me back. The other way was to wait until it looked like another storm might lay down more snow, covering my tracks. But the blue sky gave no clues as to when that would happen. Could I wait?
It was clear to me that I could not wait. The babies were growing more quickly than I had imagined. Or were the days and nights just such a blur that I did not know how long it had been since they were born? They fed without pause it seemed and my sister was tired but in good spirits, surprised too, by how hungry they were and how fast they grew. They would soon be too big for the garments she had made for them and we would need to wrap them in squares of a blanket we had cut apart.
I had to go. There was no other choice with our food supply dwindling, the twins feeding heavily, and Mahi-A’s leg getting no better. The advantage I had was that a full moon in a clear sky would light my way, though it might present a problem sneaking into the village. I would deal with that when I got there. Time to go see The Mother.
Mahi-A did not want me to go of course - what if something happened to me and I did not return? What if something happened to her and the babies were left alone? I tried reassuring her but how much could I say? There was danger in going, but there was also danger in staying, and either way, we were all affected by the events I was setting into motion. After putting another log on the fire and stacking more wood close to the hearth, I packed an empty bag, prepared myself for the cold and set out when I could see the bright eye of Venus in the night sky.
It was cold. The moon rose over one peak as I trekked toward the mountain first, then on to the village. I was lucky - or had The Mother on my side - when I came to the village. In one of the houses, there were people laughing and shouting. Sneaking up to a window, I saw they were drinking, celebrating something, but what? Had I missed an important date? Would not be hard to believe. Fortunately, they had gone inside and left a fire burning nearby where I could warm myself and wait for greater darkness and for the celebrants to go home or pass out drunk.
Entering the home was simple, since the owners had not bothered to lock the door behind the last drunk to leave. They had banked the hearth fire and between the moonlight and ember glow, I found what I wanted quickly and filled my sack. Disappointed in an easy hunt, the animal in me looked for something more. Half-emptied goblets of wine and mugs of beer sat on the table. A few tastes of wine could not hurt I thought, so I drank from one of the goblets. It was foul - nearly vinegar - so I spat it back in the cup. The beer was much better and I was amazed that any was left sitting around. By the time I had finished, there was no beer in any mug. My sack as full as I dared carry, I left as I had come, though my head buzzed and my steps were not as steady as when I had entered.
The cold did little to clear the buzz in my head. The sack felt heavier out in the cold, and up the trail leading opposite of the way I usually went, I told myself that next time I would enter from a way where the exit was downhill instead of up. And that next time, I would find a wineskin or some other container for beer instead of carrying it back in my belly. I climbed one hill after another, rehashing the ease with which I was able to get us food, the laugh I would have with Mahi-A when I told her about the wine vinegar and the beer. Distracted, I had not realized that I made a left when it was a right I needed amidst the boulders of the valley of Rati, the evil one. I turned around, grumbling how she had not yet left us alone, and the moonlight dimmed. Then went out, clouds marring her bright face. I stood in darkness. Lost. It felt as if the boulders had rolled about, purposely disorienting me.
Quickening my pace, I forged in one direction thinking it must be the right way, kicking myself for getting drunk, for not paying attention, for thinking it an easy hunt. But the longer I jogged down a path, the more I realized that it was not the right one. Watching the sky, I waited for moonlight or the glitter of stars to help me turn the right way. Instead, snowflakes fluttered and fell on my face. I whimpered - an animal with her tail between her legs. Then I ran, my fear chasing me up and down unfamiliar hills. Falling many times, I lost precious food from my sack, but too scared and still too drunk to go back to pick up the provisions that would sustain my family.
Exhausted, gasping, I sat in the snow and closed my eyes. Though I had never prayed as my sister had, I prayed to The Mother that She show me the way back to Mahi-A and the twins. My fingers nearly frozen, I clasped my hands together in conciliation, hoping She would see me home. Briefly, the moon shown through the clouds and though I could not see home, I saw a small cave, so close, I began to crawl to it. I would rest here for just a little then get my bearings and head home. I pushed myself into the crevice as much as I could, pulling the bag close to me, protecting me from the cold as much as possible.
Startled by a sound, I jerked upright in the dark. My head ached and my hands were clubs of ice, but I could tell dawn was nearly on me. How long had I been asleep? Too long is the only answer I said over and over to myself. Outside, I crept to the top of the hill which had formed the overhang under which I’d taken shelter. There, not too distant, was my home. I cried out ‘Mahi-A! I am coming! Mahi-A! I will be there soon!’ as I ran down the hill, the sack not quite as full as when I had left the house in the village, was still heavy. I imagined a good warming soup my sister could make with it while I warmed my hands at the fire.
Throwing open the door, I ran inside calling Mahi-A’s name and listening for our two daughters. Mahi-A was in the bed and the hearth fire was nearly out. The babies were crying weakly, barely audible. Running to my sister, I saw that her hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks, but the babes were nestled close beside her. Her fever glowed and I felt the heat even before I’d taken off my gloves and coat. She was whispering something to me. I knelt and smelled a foul odor coming from under the blankets. Lifting up one side, I saw her leg had swelled to nearly twice the size of her other one. I tried not to show my shock to her. I spoke to her softly, telling her I was sorry for being so late; letting her know we had plenty of food for awhile so she shouldn’t worry. I rubbed the backs of the two little babies she held to her sides. They fussed but were quiet after I sang to them.
My sister continued to whisper something, her eyes large though she did not see me. After getting the fire blazing once again, I wet two rags in water and sugar, giving them to the twins whom I took from Mahi-A and laid them in some clothing I had piled as a bed on the floor next to the hearth. I could hear them sucking at the rags as I went over to Mahi-A to tend to her fever.
It was then that it dawned on me that I had not looked for one moment for some herb, or plaster, or poultice, that might help bring down the swelling in Mahi-A’s leg. I felt sourness in the back of my throat thinking how selfish I was, wishing I could go back in time, back before I had drank the beer, and find that cure for her. Now, looking at the blackish skin that ran from her hip to her toes, I knew my stupidity meant the end for my sister. I pulled at my hair, crying like a rabbit in the jaws of a lynx, pulling, pulling until I could hear ripping. Clumps of bloody hair came away in my hands and I did not care. I slammed my head against the door post, wailing at my own selfish being. But it would do no good, it would not help her.
Her lips were moving and I could hear faint words from her mouth. I bent low, stroking her hair, saying it would be fine, I would get some herbs for her pain, something for her leg. She looked at me then, her eyes soft though they glistened in the firelight. ‘We need to name the twins,’ she said to me. I felt confused, why was this her concern? Why did she not accuse me, shame me as I so deserved? ‘Please,’ she breathed, ‘I want them to have beautiful names. I have dreamed what they shall be called. Bring them to me, please, Mella?’ I did as she asked, placing a daughter to each side of her. They did not wake.
‘Get a branch of rosemary, and dip it in oil,’ Mahi-A instructed me. My hands shook as I completed my task. Bringing it over to her, she said ‘Now run the oiled branch down the head and back of each of our babies and say We ask The Mother to watch over Her daughters and Her daughters’ daughters, as you, Great Lady, have watched over us. Bless their days with bounty as you have blessed ours. I repeated her words, running the branch along their backs as she had said. She told me to pick up one of the babies and kneel beside her so we could be very close. The baby and I went to Mahi-A’s side, the four of us in covenant with The Mother.
Mahi-A looked at the baby I held close to her, ‘your name shall be Ife - for you are love’ she said. I moved the twin close enough for her to kiss her forehead. I helped her hold the other baby close enough for her to also kiss her, saying ‘and your name shall be Ina - for you are light.’ She lay back, closing her eyes, a slight smile on her face. I whispered that she should rest now and later she could feed the babies, and I could not help from having tears run down my cheeks. Her body relaxed and I watched for a long while her chest rising and falling in fitful breaths, but I believe she slept, perhaps she dreamed of running with a hand of each daughter in hers in a glorious field of wildflowers.
I kept the fire high all that day, and when one or the other twin cried, I placed her against Mahi-A’s breast and she fed. I soaked a rag in water to wet my sister’s lips and to let drops fall into her mouth to cool her throat. A broth I offered her for nourishment, she turned from, she would not take any. Near sunset, she motioned for me to come to her and told me that I needed to pack as much as I could manage because I needed to take the girls to the Cave of Chalcedony, where the Cryst could care for them. I protested, saying that I could go back to the village and find someone, bring them back and they could care for our little ones, but she said that I had somehow forgotten what the villagers were like - they would not help us.
‘Chalcedony. You must make your way there and you must not wait because I am drying up, the girls will be hungry,’ and I knew that this was it. She would be on to the Next Journey, she would die here and I would need to care for Ife and Ina. So I packed what I could, checking on Mahi-A now and then. Her fever was still high and I no longer lifted the blanket to look at her leg. What use was it except to punish myself? When I finished, I laid beside her, the girls nestled between us, their arms wrapped around each other.
In the morning, I awoke to the babies crying. Realizing I had dozed off in the night, I reached over to my sister. Mahi-A lay still, her body unyielding to my touch. I felt numb holding the babies against me, speaking in soft tones to try to sooth them. I had rigged a sled the night before and bundled them in it along with food for myself and sugar water I had made the day before for them. It would have to do until I could reach Chalcedony.
I kissed the cool skin of my sister’s forehead; the fever gone. My throat felt as if I had eaten stones and I had no more tears, dry as dead winter grass. I wished her well on her journey and asked her to wait for me along the path to The Mother, so we could go there together. Pulling the blanket over her face, I walked out of the place with our daughters, the place where my sister and I had once lived, and never looked back at the shell that was her body in the shell that was our home. I began our journey to Chalcedony.”