Vetta awoke and cried out weakly, “Where’s my baby? Please, give me my baby!”
Lana went into the bedroom and leaned over her patient. “Your baby’s all right, Missus. She’s fine. She’s right here next to you in the bed, sound asleep. We cleaned her all up, and she’s been nursing while you slept.” Lana gently picked up the baby and handed her to Vetta. “Here she is. You can hold her in your good arm.”
Vetta took the baby from Lana and kissed her tiny forehead. “Where… where is this? Am I in Feyar City?”
“No,” Rahvak said. “I’m sorry, but this is Pond Town. There’s no Feyar City near here. Is that where you were headed? May I ask your name? Are you Vetta?”
“Yes, I’m Vetta. I have to… find Feyar City… there’s a healer there… and a Fruen elder who can help me.” She began to cry softly. “Seltie will be disappointed. We tried so hard to get to Feyar City.”
“Seltie?” Rahvak asked gently.
“My friend. Cougar killed her. She saved us.”
Rahvak patted Vetta’s hand. “Well, now, Vetta, maybe Pond Town is the right place after all. Mrs. Neméa, here, is a healer. And I am the town elder.” He took off his hat and pointed to the strip of white hair running down his forehead. “See? I’m even a Fruen.”
Vetta rallied slightly. “Ah, so you are. Is your healer—Mrs. Neméa?—a Sevro?”
“I am of the Sevro people,” Lana said. “Is that important?”
“It might be. Seltie was also a Sevro and a healer. She told me she came this way as a child with her family. I thought maybe you might know her.”
“No,” Lana said, “I’m afraid not. I’m sure I would have remembered a family that flouted the No-Travel laws.”
Vetta smiled. “They did that, Seltie told me. They came from Lone Island to pick fruit around Southport. Had little regard for the army or the Fessals.”
“I think I remember them,” Rahvak said. “I was just a little boy at the time. Your friend, Seltie, was older.”
Vetta nodded. “That sounds about right. She remembered this town being called Feyar City, though. And we read the name on a signpost—several signposts—along the way.”
“Interesting,” Rahvak said. “I’ll make a note of that and put it with my research.”
Vetta gingerly touched her wound. It was swollen and much angrier than before. “I… I’m not going to make it, am I? How… how long do I have?”
“Not long, dear,” Lana replied softly. “Maybe an hour, maybe only minutes.”
“Then I have no choice,” Vetta said. She looked anxiously at Rahvak. “Please, sir, please help me and my baby. There are people chasing us.”
“The soldiers?”
“No. The other ones. They’ve been pursuing our family for generations. We thought we were safe on Lone Island, but they caught up with us even there. They always do.” She choked, faltered, then coughed. “Mr. Rahvak, I need to ask something very important of you.”
Lana took the hint. “If you two will excuse me, I have things to do in the kitchen.”
After Lana closed the bedroom door, Vetta told Rahvak everything that had passed since she fled Lone Island: her husband’s death, the rude, menacing stranger, the sailboat ride in the storm, the cougar attack, the encounter with the army patrol. She said nothing about the medallion disguised as a child’s doll. Instead, she said, “It’s our family custom for mothers to instruct their children regarding certain family secrets when they approach adulthood. I won’t be able to do that myself, but I entrust you with my diary. It’s in my backpack. I’ve put everything in it after I was wounded, in case… well, in case. Keep it for my baby, won’t you please? Give it to her when you judge the time to be right. Care for her as best you can. She’ll need to know how to read and write well. Teach her about the stars… constellations… North Star…” She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again in alarm. “I never… she needs… the baby has… no name… yet. Please… give her a name…”
Vetta’s breathing became more labored and her thoughts were wandering. She fell back into a sort of half-sleep, mumbling unintelligibly.
Rahvak strained to understand her, but he could only make out vague references to scattered words. Did she say, ‘world hurt’ or maybe ‘world hot’?
Vetta once more attempted to speak, but she was too weak. She held her tiny daughter close to her breast.
Rahvak said, “Vetta, you may rest in peace knowing that your daughter will be well cared for. I will see to it. The bundle with your diary will be safely hidden. So far, only Lana and I know of it, and I will make sure it stays that way. When your daughter is of age, I will give it to her and tell her of her brave mother. I give you my word that I will respect your secrets and never look into your diary.”
Vetta smiled her thanks to Rahvak, tenderly kissed her infant, took one final breath, closed her eyes, and was gone.