Page 28 of The Thirteenth Child
Calamité raised his eyebrow with delicate deliberation. “You took the words straight out of my mouth, Sister.”
“Whydidyou want me?” I dared to ask. “And Merrick? And the Holy First? I can’t see…why would a god want a mortal child?”
“Not just any child,” Calamité singsonged. “A thirteenth child.”
“Don’t you know how rare those are?” Félicité asked. “How precious?”
“How powerful,” Calamité added, eye gleaming. “Thirteenth children can do things even we cannot, can leave impacts on the mortal world, touching it with hands better suited to…” He paused, musing so dreamily that I wasn’t sure if he was going to continue. He flicked his fingers, as if swatting at a flying bug. “…well, better suited tomortalthings. I know whatIwould have done with you, but…what did you call him? Merrick?Merrick.” He snorted. “I can’t—”
“Wecan’t,” Félicité corrected him, and her voice joined her brother’s, uniting the two tones into one off-key pitch that suddenly made me remember the reverent who’d taken Bertie away.
“—fathom what dear oldMerrickis up to.”
“He said I’m to be a healer.” It sounded so small, and as the Divided Ones stared down at me, tilting their head too far in one direction, like an owl, I regretted saying anything at all.
“A healer?” Félicité questioned. “How delightful. How—”
“Odd,” Calamité finished. “How very, very odd.”
Though I agreed with them, it seemed disloyal to Merrick to admit it aloud.
“It will be most intriguing to watch this all play out, don’t you think, Brother?”
Calamité cocked their head up, studying the canopy of branches above them. “Trees in the Between,” he murmured. “Most peculiar indeed.”
“Do you know where he might be?” I asked again, wanting to steer the strange conversation back to something useful. “Or when he might return?”
Félicité’s eyebrow furrowed, her expression truly remorseful. “That is impossible to say.”
“After all.” Calamité took over, his voice melodiously low. “What is time to a god?”
“It’s just…he’s left me here, and I don’t think he wanted me out wandering about but I just couldn’t stay in the cabin a moment longer, and—”
“Is that what all this is about?” Calamité asked, holding out one hand, catching raindrops. “Imagine our surprise and consternation as our evening constitution was interrupted with such unnecessary fuss. And all because dear oldMerrickhasn’t gotten his way?” He rolled his eye, though Félicité’s remained fixed upon me. “Sister, won’t you?”
With a swish of her hand, the storm died away. A crack of light split open the void and broke apart the dark, revealing a glowing pink night sky beyond. Cheery beams of starlight bathed the world in lustrous pastel hues, giving everything they touched a hint of iridescence. Merrick’s trees shimmered, and dustings of radiance sparkled on every surface, even the Divided Ones.
I held out my hands in wonder, watching as the opalescence made my own skin glisten.
Félicité beamed, admiring her changes. “Good fortune indeed.”
“Did he give you instruction?” Calamité asked. “Before he left? You must have done something wrong to create such a storm.”
“He…he wanted me to read.”
“Read?” Félicité echoed with bewilderment.
“He filled the cottage with books. To study.”
“Then study them I would,” quipped Calamité.
“I did. I was,” I stammered. “But it’s just…I got tired of it. I finished nearly two books,” I added hastily. Why did everything Isaid to these gods sound so insignificant?
“Two books.” The Divided Ones looked less than impressed. I suddenly knew exactly how a frog must feel before being eaten by a heron.
I gulped. “They were very big books.”
“IfIwere Merrick,” Félicité began, “I wouldn’t return until my ward had done as I asked.”
