bannion_sight | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's almost true winter, even if it is only November. The dark branches of now-leafless trees are lined with the same snow that covers the ground, blanketing Toronto in a clean and shining white.

Here in Nathan Philips Square, however, lawyers and civil servants have much less appreciation for the pristine and icy beauty as they pick their way carefully over slippery sidewalks. City Hall at lunchtime is a busy place, as is the Mackenzie King Dining Room on the far side.

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"Yes."

Simply said, and with a quiet weight of calm that is unusual for Kim save when treating patients-- but not at all unusual for the Seer of Brennin.

"It is true. Not immediately, perhaps-- but if Rakoth takes dominion in Fionavar, he takes dominion everywhere."

Each word is as clear as her bright gray gaze, which moves to each of them in turn.

"There is only one Tapestry."

"Even so," Paul adds, before anyone has time to protest further, "we have to do it on our own. Loren won't demand it. If the four of us want to go back, we'll have to find a way ourselves."

Paul is clearly cracked.

"The four of us?"

He looks to Kim.

Surely someone has to have a better answer than that.

Surely.

"I don't know."

It's a whisper, no louder than that, for Kim can't choke the words out past the tightness in her throat. She looks away from them down at her hands, at the ring on her finger, which blurs as hot tears fill her eyes.

"I just don't know. She-- she won't see you, any of you. She never goes out of the house. She talks to me about work and the weather, and the news, and she's-- she's--"

"She's going ahead with it," says Paul.

His tone is expressionless; and in his head, the memory a cheerful voice: Also there is a baby, I think. You should hold it, perhaps.

A cheerful voice, and a baby doll - plastic, charred and burned.

Consider it practice.

Oh, Jennifer.

Golden she had been, from inside the sorrow.

Kevin will not forget that, not in all the days of his life.

Oh, Jen.

Kim nods, looking up directly at Paul.

"She is."

"All right," Paul says, abruptly; and rises from the table.

"All right. It's my turn now."

Arrow of the God.

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