Part 8
Softer, gentler snow—but still a snow, An everlasting snow, Was falling from the bright gray sky above As Marin stepped outside. Her beautiful and sky blue gown was whipping, Whistling in the breeze. The robot that had followed her Was polished to a shine, but it Could not hide that its joints were rusted; It was old, of many years, And it had served this family great For many a long decade now. “Oh, Marin!” called a happy voice, And Marin turned in time to see Cordelia spring out of the door, With smile on her lovely face. “Do give to Isaac this, will you? It is a small thing, that is true. But I think he will like it lots.” “I will,” said Marin, With a cheery grin, And took the tiny package From Cordelia’s hands, and nodded, And she laughed. “Thanks for the tea!” “Oh, all the thanks is mine,” Cordelia said, With such a lovely laugh, “You are a precious gem, Miss Marin. I have had good times with you, Times I’ve not had in many years. You make me feel like I am young, Like I’ve become a younger girl, With all your brightness, and your glow. Let’s see each other soon again!” With that she turned, and closed the door. “Sounds good,” said Marin, Speaking softly, Stepping lightly down the steps From the enormous manor house Whose long and winding driveway curved Across the barren, snowy grounds Where angry sculptures stabbed the skies And stony angels bent their wings. As she was walking she could see A figure standing at the gates, Quite distant now, but nearer drew, Until the flash of bright red hair Revealed the waiting boy to her. “Ardo!” Marin called, and ran, Until she met him just outside The gates where he was standing, sighing, Flicking flames between his hands. “Hey,” said Ardo, with a wave. “Let’s get on back to Isaac’s place.” So she nodded, so they moved, And so they both walked along, Slowly out of the great neighborhoods Where all the wealthy lived, The wealthy and the highborn And the ones with purest genes. As they walked, Ardo kept twirling Fire off his fingertips. “You should be careful,” Marin said, “What if someone sees you there?” “Well, I’ll try to be careful,” Ardo said, and closed his fingertips, Remembering that Isaac also Warned him all the time. “But we’ll be leaving soon, won’t we? Our job is almost done.” A stabbing came at Marin’s heart And filled her chest with razor pain. “I… I guess we will,” She murmured, Suddenly the cold around Was much more biting on her ears And on her nose and in her mouth As snow came falling down. After a long and gentle walk They passed out of the neighborhoods Where all the highborn made their home And trekked into the city vast, With feet that took them down the streets And into alleys curved and stony Glowing dark amid the snow. At last, at length, They reached the doorway That they’d come to know so well. “We’re home!” said Ardo, bursting in. “Ah, there you are!” said Isaac next. He was inspecting candles he had made, To check for blemishes. “How was your walk?” Asked Terry then, Who sat amid the shadowed eaves Beneath the molding of the stairs That led to the bedrooms. “It worked out well,” Said Marin sharply, Smiling, Smirking, Blue eyes bright. “Isaac, this is for you!” she cried, And thrust the package at him then. “Oh, oh, Marin, thank you,” Isaac said, and smiled, and made her heart Go beating extra hard And made a flush come to her cheeks. “Is this from you?” he asked her then, And that made her take a deep breath And made the frost creep up the windows, Made the water in the pitcher Start to froth and churn a bit. But she caught up her breath, And sighed, and in the pitcher now the water Calmed back down, and out of doors The snow which had been falling harder Now resumed its gentle flow. “No,” she said, and smiled brightly, “No, it’s from Cordelia!” “What?” Isaac sharply said, Eyes narrow, “How did she give it to you?” “Oh, I’ve been meeting with her,” Marin said, And smiled graciously. “We met one day, and she invited me To come have tea with her. We really have become good friends, And she gave me this for you.” “Marin,” glowered Isaac, “Don’t be meddling in this stuff! Don’t bring trouble on yourself—or me! You’re being way too bold. If her family gets some wind Of you, and how you’re in my house, We could all be in peril. They are not the ones to cross!” “Oh, let them come,” Said Marin then, And so she smiled, eager, fierce, Her deep blue eyes were glittering And malice sparkled in their depths. “A few old folks in an old town With rusty robots at their call Are not a fear of mine—or yours. You needn’t worry, not at all. If anyone would ever try to harm you, I would-- I would--” “What?” Asked Isaac then, His dark eyes low. “What would you do? What can you do? I’m quite afraid to ask. You—all of you!” He cried aloud, and turned to see the four of them, See Marin, Ardo, Terry, Saera, Gathered in the room. “You can’t just threaten anyone! I know the power you all have, I’ve seen it, and I feel it, too-- I feel how dangerous you are. But that power is not a license! You can’t just do what you want. There is a Law above your strength; There is a Master to all things, Who watches us—and watches you. And He will measure out His business Each to all, as they behave. You all, you’re powerful like gods. But you’re not gods! You’re only people, Strange and different people, true. But people, nonetheless!” By now Marin had her head bowed, Her ears were burning, eyes were wet. And Isaac saw her miserable, And sighed, And patted her left arm. “I’m sorry,” he then said, And nodded, Watching as she looked at him. “But please, you all have trusted me. So trust me now, when I do say: You must strive always to do good, To do real Good, By ancient law. Your power is not an excuse That lets you do whate’er you want. It is a burden, and a blessing, And with it comes expectation That you all must answer to. That’s all that I believe-- Ignore me, If you like, But please do not.” “You’re… you’re right,” Said Marin, Genuinely cowed and humbled, Springing tears from every corner Of her deep blue eyes. “I’m sorry. Thank you.” “No big deal,” Said Isaac then, And smiled wide As he looked down upon his hand. “But if Cordelia’s given this to you, I’d better open it then, eh?” Marin smiled gently at him, And he smiled in turn. He pried the packaging from off The parcel, and he gasped as he Beheld some twisting lines Of brilliant gold, that rose Into a forking prong atop The pendant, for it was just this. “Oh, oh, oh,” Said Isaac, Whose own heart now beat Much faster than it had before. “What? What is it?” Ardo asked, And peeked in close so he could see. “It’s the symbol of the city,” Isaac said, with soft and careful speech. “Our town was founded by a couple, A husband and a wife, who used This symbol of their house to found The city where we are. The twisting lines are meant to symbolize Their everlasting love, And how when they were married two souls Turned into one flesh.” Isaac gasped and breathed at this, His own face growing very pale. “This symbol can be used for much; It means a lot here in our town. But often it is used to symbolize...” He whispered, and trailed off. “What?” asked Saera, silver eyes Now sweeping over his blank face. But Saera was a clever girl, And so her white eyebrows rose up, And she said, “Oh, it is a marriage thing, yes? She has offered you her hand.” “Yes,” said Isaac slowly, And then Marin smiled at him, Smiled though her heart was hurt And bleeding through her chest. “This is… I will have to think about this,” Isaac said, and shook his head, And nodded, “But I’ll do it later; now I’ve got a job to do.” So he set the pendant down And returned unto his candles, And did not speak of Cordelia The rest of the long day. He kept things to himself as daytime Churned into the darkened night, And as they ate their supper, laughing, Talking ‘mongst themselves, Isaac sat, And Isaac brooded, Isaac glowered, Isaac sighed, And when the meal was done and cleaned, He left on up to bed. “We’re so close!” said Marin in the darkness Of the large main room, Where embers burned to nothingness And fire blazed on Ardo’s hands. “We’re almost there! We only need A little bit more pressure. A day or two, or just one more, And we can bring them both together!” “Then we’ll leave, right?” Terry asked, His brown eyes staring out the glass Out of the window, out into The cold and snowy night. “I…” Marin whispered, Stumbled then. “But that was our agreement, yes?” Said Saera. “We would help, then leave.” “I… yes, I guess,” said Marin, sighing, Chin inside her hands. “So we had better start preparing,” Terry said With shaking head. “If we do just--” Then they heard it: Somewhere distant, far away. But they still could hear it billow Out into the night: A blaring, trilling, trumpet-call, A baying that was long and loud, Echoing across the roofs And alleys of the town. It sounded loud, once, twice, three times, And with each cry their terror grew. On instinct all of them stood up And glanced around in fear. “Stalkers!” Saera cried, Her silver eyes in terror huge. “We have to go! They’re here, they’re here!” Cried Terry, springing to the steps. “Let’s pack our things and leave, right now! We’ll wake up Isaac, say goodbye, and--” “No!” snapped Marin, Fear and terror Mingling with a yearning look. “Look, I did sat two more days. We can spare that, we can! I know we can! The Stalker sounded far away, And when they get here they will have To prowl the city some to find us. Cities have confused the Stalkers Lots of times before, and now They’ll be confused again. We have two days, I know we do! Please, Terry, let us stay that long!” “MARIN,” Terry said, his voice Grown deeper, and the building shook, Trembling gently as the earth Beneath it vibrated. “Terry, please, please, PLEASE,” She pleaded, begged with him, Entreated him and broke upon him As the sea breaks on the coastal cliffs, And Terry stood, unmoved, Like those great cliffs within the waves. But in due time even the cliffs Are ground down into powdered sand By the relentless churning Of the ocean’s heavy surf. So, too, did Terry Sigh at length And say, “All right. Two days, that’s all.” “Thank you!” said Marin, and she hugged him Tightly as she could. “I hope you’re right about Isaac And Cordelia, For all our sakes.” “I know I am!” said Marin brightly. “Yeah I am, I know!” “Well, I’m going up to bed,” Said Ardo, Putting out his fiery hands. “I’ll need the rest in case we have to Fight the Stalkers off.” “Yes, bed’s a good idea,” Said Terry, Standing up and going to The stairs; all his three friends went following Behind his wake.
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