Lark Ascending by Silas House

Author:Silas House
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Algonquin Books
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

We took off across the field toward a grove of trees between the church and the mountain so we’d have some cover. I kept my eye on the finger of blue smoke drifting up from the far mountain—thinner now, so thin that I may not have been able to spot it at all had I not seen it before.

The grove was slender and stretched as far as I could see, which meant the trees were most likely lining a creek or river. I spotted a thin metal wire running from the ground and up into a massive beech tree. I didn’t know what it was, and I wasn’t about to find out. I called out to Seamus so he wouldn’t go near it and from there on out we stayed at the very edge of the tree line, just enough to be hidden.

We walked until I couldn’t go any farther. My lack of sleep from the night before had nearly done me in and we had come upon an ancient oak tree whose broad limbs were perfectly situated for me to climb up and have a nap without fear of falling out. Seamus didn’t like being left alone below but I knew that he’d curl up at the base of the tree to wait for me to rise again. I propped my hazel stick against the trunk and clambered up.

I slept a dreamless sleep for what must have been a solid two hours because the sky had dimmed and lowered by the time I awoke. Evening had fallen. As soon as I jumped down, Seamus took off across the field. I yelled for him to wait, but he was gone, all four legs pumping and his head set low against the wind. I didn’t want to lose him. I grabbed my stick and ran as fast as I could, hoping I could keep up.

I managed to keep my eye on Seamus enough to follow and when I found him I collapsed, desperate for breath. He was hunkered low in the ferns at the edge of a clearing.

I dropped to all fours and crawled up beside him. I looked out to the clearing and saw a small stone house and a yard, golden with long, thin grass. The side of the house facing us was lit a comforting orange from a little fire that was burning near it, although the fire itself was out of our sight. I caught the savory aroma of meat and my mouth watered. I had not had meat since long before crossing the ocean, since we’d eaten the last of our deer jerky while walking to Nova Scotia.

Then I heard a woman, singing.

The water is wide, I cannot cross over

Neither have I wings to fly

Give me a boat that can carry two

And both shall cross, my true love and I

Her voice was high and clear but strong, too. Determined sounding, as if she were singing loud like this to defy anyone who might be aiming to harm her.

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