The Price

by Pil Lee

It was Christmas Eve of a very cold year. Members of the Great Family were all gathered in the hall, clustered loosely around the huge fire at the far end. Gabriel stood at the side, glass in hand, his eyes never leaving the door.

“Did you really think he would come?” asked his wife Mira, moving up beside him.

“Where else would he go?” said Paul behind her with a sneer.

“Assuming he’s some homeless vagrant is a big mistake,” Mira warned Paul.

“Well any additional information would be gratefully accepted,” he shot back at her. “We’re supposed to let this man into our home, tonight of all nights when everyone is here, and we know nothing about him.”

“Gabriel has invited him,” she said.

“Oh of course,” said Paul. “That answers everything. Thanks Mira, you’ve cleared up all my worries.”

Gabriel moved out into the passageway, leaving their bickering behind him. He could feel the impatience of the others, nearly thirty members of the Family still alive and able to make it to the Keep, but he tuned them out, focussing all his energy on the massive wooden door to the outside world.

“Come,” he whispered. He moved closer to the door, now hearing the raging weather only a few feet away, kept out by the age-polished golden oak and immense hinges and bars. “Come,” he said again, the word barely audible as he laid his hand flat upon the door. His forehead pressed against the cool wood, and he stood still, waiting, a tall slender figure in the flicker of the torches. And gradually it seemed the roar of the storm receded and all noises of talk and laughter and clinking of glasses in the hall behind faded away, until he jerked his head up in shock at the silence.

Turning he saw that the light from the hall was dimmed, as if the fire was barely alight, and all sounds had ceased. He set down his glass and moved back down the passageway and into the room, back to the wall, hand clutching uselessly for a sword that wasn’t part of his black formal dress.

The Family stood with their backs to him, ranged around the young man standing in the embers of the fire.

Gabriel walked out into the centre of the room, confronting the figure. He felt his wife move up behind him, her strength and will supporting him. He stood motionless, suddenly unsure and afraid, when the man spoke his name.

“Gabriel,” he said, like a bell into the stillness, before he fell to his knees in the ashes.

Gabriel moved slowly forward until he stood just in front of the man, then he too sank slowly to his knees. They faced each other for a moment, their eyes level, before the newcomer leant forward and with a hesitant smile kissed Gabriel softly on the mouth. Then before anyone else in the room could start to move or speak, he wrapped his arms firmly around him and they disappeared, the imprints of their bodies lost in the ashes as the fire sprung up once again.

It had been a hard winter and the frosted earth had taken so long to thaw that it was almost May before Mira could gather new herbs. Her guards sat on restless horses at the top of the rise, and the first eagles of spring were circling out from their mountain eyrie. She walked slowly down the dell, filling her basket with fernswart from the edge of a little copse. Standing a moment with her face turned up towards the sun she savoured the warmth, then turned to find that right behind her, on the grassy sward, knelt her husband.

Mira’s basket dropped from her nerveless hand and she gave a muffled gasp. She stood stunned for a second, staring back at him. Having waited so long to see him again, now that he was here she found she could hardly think what to do. Then a burst of joy rushed over her and with a shout she threw herself at him. He grabbed her hard and they rolled on the grass in a tight embrace, saying each other’s names over and over.

Finally they sat up breathless together, laughing and brushing at their clothes. She moved to arm’s length of him, peering at him carefully. He wore the same fine black robes he’d had on when last she’d seen him, but now they were worn and faded. His wavy dark locks had grown long, brushing his shoulders, and his face was thinner and more shadowed than she remembered.

He returned her gaze, and slowly his smile faded and they stared soberly at each other.

“Gabriel,” she said.

“Mira.”

She looked deep into his eyes. “Did he teach you?” she said.

In reply he opened his hand and smiled at her. Looking down she saw that it was full of strawberries, then, as she watched, they changed to nuts, then rubies and finally flowers. He held them out to her and she took them with a shaking hand.

“Can you do anything?” she asked.

“No, not anything,” he said. “But one day I think I’ll be able to. It gets easier all the time.”

“Was it hard then?”

“Not hard, exactly. Frustrating. I ... it’s almost hard to remember now. The last five months seemed to take forever, but now ... it’s as if it was all a blur.”

“It did take forever,” said Mira. “I thought you would never be back.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel began, before she interrupted.

“At first I thought you’d be back the next day,” she said. “I told everyone you were alright, that we’d been expecting it.”

“How were they?”

“As we thought,” she laughed. “They were beside themselves. The rows! And I thought Paul and your mother were going to kill each other. But I just kept insisting you were alright; you just hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up; you’d be back soon ...”

“But I wasn’t.”

“No, you weren’t. And then I thought you’d be back after a week, then a month, then three months, and then... then I thought you’d never be back.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hand brushing her cheek.

She captured his hand in hers. “But you are back! Oh Gabriel ... Let’s go, let’s get back to the others and tell them,” she said, gathering her skirts.

“Mira, wait a moment,” he said, not moving.

She sank back down beside him, his hand still in hers.

“Is everyone well?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“No attacks, no problems, no sickness?”

“No, nothing really. Nothing big.”

“And the rest of the Family.”

“Everything’s fine. No problems from any of the Keeps.” She gripped his hand hard. “Is it working already?” she said. “Did he teach you how to protect us already?”

“He just taught me to use the power,” said Gabriel. “What I do with it is up to me, and yes, it’s working already, it appears. I focus all my energy on protecting the Great Family, and it seems it’s worked.” He paused. “All it takes is one price.”

Gabriel waited for her to ask, but she said nothing and the silence stretched between them.

“We knew there would be a price,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered. “But ... I hoped the price was just you being away for so long.”

“I’m sorry, Mira. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to say sorry to me,” she said. “We agreed on this together. You took the greatest risk, going to who knows where with him, agreeing to his price.” There was silence again. Mira looked down at their hands, linked together. “What is it Gabriel? What does he ask?”

“It’s a merciful price,” he said. He looked at the top of her head, bent trembling over their hands. “He wants my love.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“He wants me to love him.”

“But how can you do that?” she said, her voice rising.

“I already have,” he said. “I love him. From the first day I met him. Otherwise he would never have agreed to teach me.”

Mira shook her head, bewildered. “But you love me,” she said. “We love each other. We searched together for years to find a magi to teach you. To save the Family. We did this together.”

“I know,” he said, “and it has worked. Whilst I live, the family is safe. All of you. Forever.”

She started to weep, hot tears from her proud, noble eyes, and she buried her face in his chest.

He held her gently away from him and rose to his feet. “I have to go now, Mira. I missed you so much, don’t ever think I don’t still love you. Take care, be strong. They’ll all need you now, more than ever.” And as she looked up at him he blurred into the sun and vanished.

Mira looked wildly around, desperate to do something to bring him back. She shouted hoarsely for the guards, who pelted down the slope, swords at the ready, but they said they hadn’t seen anyone with her, let alone their master.

They searched the surrounding lands as the sun set low in the sky, but to no avail. Finally as darkness descended she let them lead her back home, face tight and back rigid. Back to the Keep of the One Great Family. Safe for the rest of her days.

Continue to Part II