Where the Dark Stands Still by A. B. Poranek

Author:A. B. Poranek [Poranek, A. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2024-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

21

MAKSIO

THE DREAM GRIPS LISKA EVEN in her waking hours, leaving her tense and rattled as she prepares to return to the Driada. Perched on a stool by the stove, the strange little boy tracks her every movement like a hawk, staring as she tucks the Leszy’s antler shard into her pocket and buckles Onegdaj’s sheath around her waist. When she finally turns back to him, he pins her with large brown eyes, his stare unsettling.

“You’re going to stay here,” Liska tells him gently. “Kazimiera will look after you.”

Immediately the boy’s eyes fill with tears. He leaps up from the stool, grabbing Liska’s hand, and makes a sound of protest.

“You have to,” she says firmly. “I’m going to the Driada, and that’s no place for anyone, especially children.” She tries to extract her hand, but he only grips her tighter and tugs, insistent.

Liska sweeps a rogue curl beneath a kerchief she borrowed from Kazimiera, considering. The boy has not left her side since she found him, even as she slept—she does not know if he rested in the meantime. Bringing him to a sentient manor in a spirit-wood does not seem at all like a responsible thing to do, but he is old enough to know what he wants, and this is the most lucid he has looked since she first found him.

“Listen,” she says reasonably. “If you come with me, you will not be able to leave for a while, not until the Leszy returns. You will have to live in a creaky old manor, and you will be stuck inside at night, because there are monsters in the woods. Everything there is ancient; the library comes and goes, the candles light themselves, and there is a skrzat of dubious intentions who lives in the stove. It’s all rather frightening.”

None of this seems to faze the boy. A heartbeat passes, and he drops Liska’s hand, looking toward the door. His jaw is clenched with determination.

Liska sighs her defeat and ruffles his hair. It’s a terrible idea, but she has the feeling she couldn’t force him to stay if she tried. “Very well, then. But I still don’t know what to call you.”

No answer. The boy opens his hands and shrugs.

“Maksio,” Liska suggests. “Do you like that? Until you’re ready to tell me your real name.”

The boy gives her the faintest grin, an eager light in his eyes. Liska cannot help but smile back, a tug of kinship softening her bruised heart.

She squeezes the boy’s hand. “Then let’s go together, Maksio.”

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