The Continent (The Continent #1)(42)
I awoke with a peculiar sense of alteration—something akin to the fresh, salted breeze that blows in from the sea after a storm has passed. Eno opened the door to collect my chamber pot and was startled to see me standing by the window, my face turned toward the sun.
“I should like to go outside today,” I said.
She took me by the arm, her wrinkled face marked with a brilliant smile, and led me into the enclosed yard behind the house.
Now, I stand in the garden, blinking in the dazzling light of day. There’s a vegetable patch here, and flowers blooming in triumph amidst the melting snow, and a beautifully hewn bench cut from sandy-colored stone.
I sit on the bench and run my palm over its smooth surface, feeling the faint warmth it has stolen from the sun. It is spring now on the Continent, and while the temperature could not be described as warm, it is far more tolerable than it was just a month ago. The fresh, cool air caresses my face, and I feel a sense of normalcy returning to me with each breath. This is what people do. They go out of doors, and they sit in the sunshine, and they breathe. I can do this.
Eno hovers near the door for a few minutes, then returns to the house, leaving me alone in the yard.
It is quiet. I hear footsteps occasionally as someone passes by on the road beyond the fence, the chirping of birds concealed in the trees, and the distant sound of laughter, perhaps coming from one of the nearby houses. These are the sounds of life. For the first time since the heli-plane went down, I am ready to hear them.
It is a good day. I spend one more night in the healing room, and in the morning, I am ready to leave. Keiji comes to collect me, to take me to my new home, which the council has arranged for me.
At the front door, Eno embraces me, happy tears in her dark eyes. I hold her tightly for a moment, thinking how strange it will be to fall asleep in a house empty of her comforting presence. I thank her for all she has done, but the words seem to fall short; she afforded me true solace, allowing me to stay long after my leg was tended so that my heart might have a chance to be restored as well. I tell her that she is a true healer, and I bid her goodbye.
It is time to begin my life anew.
CHAPTER 14
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” KEIJI ASKS EXPECTANTLY as we stop before the small cottage.
I turn to my left to look at the houses on the other side of the road. “Why does this place look so familiar?”
Keiji laughs. “That house there, across the way…that’s where Noro and I live. You remember it?”
“Yes,” I say slowly, my mind piecing together the memory of my first night in the village. “It looks different in the daytime—and with so little snow about.”
“Noro fixed things with the council so that you would be nearby,” Keiji says. “On account of you not knowing anyone.”
“Did he?” I say, perplexed by this news. “I wouldn’t have thought…anyway.” I turn back to my own house, a stone building with a sloping black-shingled roof and a porch to the left of the front door. A high fence surrounds the property, separating it from the houses on either side. Two windows look out from the front, the glass having recently been scrubbed clean. But what truly draws my attention is another detail: someone has put a pot bearing a dilapidated white flower next to the door. I know without asking that it was Keiji, and my heart warms.
“The house is lovely,” I say. “I particularly like the flowerpot there—do you see it?”
He hides a smile and rushes up to the door. “Come on and look at the inside. Wait here, Aki.”
The dog, Keiji’s perpetual shadow, lies down on the porch and blinks lazily. I’m quite used to him now, having seen him so many times at Eno’s, and am far less intimidated by his size than I was when first I saw him. I give him a pat as I step up onto the porch, then pass through the door into my new home.
Much like in Noro’s house, the entry opens into a small, cozy sitting room. There is a low sofa (also like Noro’s, although this one has green fabric instead of blue), an upholstered chair, and a bookshelf, all arranged around a fireplace on the far wall. I cross to the bookshelf to peruse its contents; titles such as Shinashi Sea-ships and Vessels, The Hero of Tezana Bay, and, most intriguing of all, The Nations Beyond the Sea immediately catch my eye.
“That’s from Noro,” Keiji says, pointing to an enormous, breathtakingly beautiful fan above the fireplace. It must be three feet across, with lovely white trees painted across its lower half, all trimmed in gold. “He said you’re probably used to fine things.”
Another puzzling kindness, considering Noro’s conspicuous absence during my time at Eno’s. “Keiji,” I say, on the point of asking him again if he knows why Noro did not come to see me, but I think better of it, and simply say, “I shall be sure to thank him when I see him next.”
To my left, a doorless frame opens to a small kitchen and dining area, complete with a wooden table and four chairs. To the right, a narrow hallway leads to two doors: the first reveals a washroom with a basin, tub, and chamber pot—a thing not used in the Spire for absolute ages—and the second a bedchamber with a double bed, a nightstand, and a second fireplace. A handmade quilt, sewn with perfectly shaped squares in various greens and yellows, covers the bed. I run my hand across it, admiring the softness of the fabrics.
“Do you like it?” Keiji says from the doorway. “It’s been in our family a long time. I’m not even sure who made it… my grandmother, maybe, or her mother.”