Words words words they flow from the
quill like blood from my finger.
Mistress says I must improve my writing
for it’s like chicken scratchings but I
think it’s pretty. I don’t like
Mistress for she looks at me with evil
eyes. Eyes, the eyes, they are always
watching. But she gave me this book
and I shall use it as I please. My
secret.
Dreams, nasty bad don’t want to think.
Blood, and the blade.
Mistress had nasty words for Father
today. She doesn’t like me. She knows
I can see it, in her chest. Trying to
eat her from the inside. Like… no no
no. Not to think of it. All the doors
are CLOSED.
Cousin Paul sang the mean song again.
I won’t go. They will laugh and point
and stick out their tongues, like big
fat slugs. Slugs in the garden, eating
all the pretty flowers. Father doesn’t
like it when I cry. He says it is
weak. The Garden of Night is not a
place for wailing and weeping, only
webs and weavings and poison.
Where is the letter? He sent it last
week. The City of Wings is not far.
Will a falcon bring it? No, nasty bird,
she hates us. It’s our blood, our
blood betrays. Where is the letter?
It came today. Too short. All full of
swords and sharpness. The Garden of
Night must have its swords and
sharpness. Dreams last night were all
swords and sharpness, and Dederic in
the center of it all, and the Hooded
Man writing names in his book, many
many names, all in blood. Why must it
be? The webs bind so tight. We cannot
leave the garden
They want me to remember. Grandmother
came. She is tall and grim as a stone,
and there are swords in her eyes when
she looks at me. She wanted me to tell
her the dream, the one about the crown
in Uncle’s pantry. No no no, not to
remember. He was there, and the silthe ch-
IT was there. It hurt. All the doors
are CLOSED.
Dederic is home! We went riding in the
sunlight and saw three foxes. And when
Grandmother looks at me he holds my
hand and her eyes don’t hurt. But he
will go away again. They will send him
to the great hall of wisdom, where the
nasty lady is. He doesn’t need her
magic. My blood is enough, enough for
both. His sword is sharp and my blood
burns and it will keep us safe from
all.
Cousin Paul sang the song again but he
stopped. Dederic made him stop, and
then we went to the garden and I picked
flowers. Father would be mad but he is
lost in the grey place, Xaer is calling
him and soon he will go.
Father is dead. The room was cold and
smelled like sickness. He could not see
me. He never saw. Always looked away.
Now he won’t ever have to see. Why
didn’t he want to see? What loathesome
creature did he imagine? A flawed
flower in the garden, pull it up, weed
it out. No, let it grow and see if it
bears fruit. Then take the fruit, take
it all, and the poor plant will wither
an die. The tears will not stop, not
even in the garden. They will send me
to Uncle now.
Tears in the night. They did not stop.
But then the dream came, the dream with
mists and song. He was singing, the
man in the mist, and it drove away the
tears. Where is he?
Clash and clang and sword on sword. I
watched the dance of blood and clapped
for Dederic. He is the best. He thinks
with the blade and it is in his heart.
That is what the garden of night has
made him. Cousin Paul and Cousin
Elspeth and Cousin Alamander did not
care for it. They watch him with
jealous eyes. They wanted his blood.
Nasty nasty, even in the garden the
spiders bite one another. All together
they struck, not fair, not fair. They
cut sharp and sharp again and his blood
was flowing and it was not fair and he
was hurt. But they forgot, they always
forget me. They see only the withered
tree, the mad flower. But the sap is
strong and there was a sword to make
the cut. I gave them my blood too, but
my blood burns and they screamed and
Cousin Paul fell down. The blood
drives away the pain. My hand hurts
but Dederic is better now, and he put a
bandage on it.
Uncle was displeased. He had to write
long sorry letters to Cousin Paul’s
mother, and physicians are so very
costly, he says. He says I am a bad
girl. He says Dederic needs
discipline.
Uncle is sending Dederic to the water
city. I don’t want him to leave. The
bad man is coming. All the doors are
CLOSED. Uncle looks at me and in his
eyes there is a tree with withered
fruit, but still he wants it, nothing
unused in the garden of night. Nothing.
Boys turned to blades to drench
themselves in blood and death and girls
turned to wells to be drained dry and
left broken.
Dederic left. He promised to write but
his letters are always short and full
of sharpness and swords.
Where is he? His song drove away the
tears. I weep again and again. The bad
man is here. He was at dinner. His
eyes burn like coals against the black.
All the doors are CLOSED.
The two thrones! One shall shatter and
the other fall, or both shall stand and
bring doom to all. Uncle will not
listen. I tell him to break the throne
but it is the path to the crown and he
will NOT do it. Dederic must make him.
I don’t want to The silver branch,
where are they? They stood agains the
thousand fists? Please, come now? He
will take he will open Where are they?
I am all alone. I will not leave. They
cannot make me.
Wine sleepy wine. Tricks. Must
remember. Garden of Night. All is
deception. Dederic? Where is the
singing man he can stop No, no, he’s
coming! No
All the doors are open.
Too much, the eyes are watching, always
watching. I see too much. No, don’t
Please no. Stay away, I don’t want to
see the blood. They are dying all
around and I walk over their bodies and
I KNOW THE FACES! The song has taken
here, the dread song and she is not my
friend anymore. And the fist, the fist
comes. And the blade, they want it and
they will make him something dark and
sad to get it. And I cannot leave, I
cannot stop it, but I see it all.
Again and again the blood trickles down
her face, her eyes are dull and dead.
The blood makes webs, that glitter in
the starlight. I cannot look away.
Dederic’s blade is red with blood.
Death is our way now. It fills my eyes
and my heart and there is nothing else.
The music drives it back but there is
no one to sing for me here. Just the
nasty woman who makes me wear IT. I
don’t like IT.
It iches iches iches. Dederic iches
also but he can turn his blade against
the fancy man with the funny hat and
stop it. I take it off and the itching
stops but then I am full and the blood
beats in my ears and wants to get OUT.
Uncle has the nasty woman put it back
on again. He says if I do not wear it
I will not see Dederic again. But I
know I shall. He is coming home soon.
Dederic is coming home. Uncle is
angry. His purse is empty to quiet the
whispers. But it doesn’t matter.
Dederic is coming home. I told him he
did not need her magic. All the doors
are open. I have enough to drive it all
away. Can we go away? They cannot
stop us, not the blade and the blood
both. Not now that all the doors are
open. We could go away, we could cut
the webs and leave the garden.
The sil- the cha- IT is always in my
mind. Get out get out get out. I will
not sit!
Dederic is home! I wished to go riding
and see three foxes, but he said I
wasn’t well enough. We sat in the
garden instead and he had his fighting
men practice. They hit very hard, but
there is not so much blood as when it
is swords and sharpness.
Eyes, eyes in the night
I want to see them. They are in my
dreams and there will be music and
shadows and masks. Uncle says that if
I am good and do not take IT off today
I may go. The Bad Man will be there
too and I don’t like him but Dederic
will be there and I will be safe. And
I will have new friends.
The music still rings in my ears, and
chases away the shadows and the hissing
and the death. They were there, all of
them. The singing woman, does she know
the dark song hungers for her? She
sang sweetly, and the weeping woman
too. And the Cracked One did not look
at me with the evil eye, she knows the
light of the great lamp. I wish Uncle
would give them coin to stay longer,
for they are much nicer than the Nasty
Woman, even though they made me keep IT
on. I tried to give IT to the mist
man. He was there! He did not sing,
but he will. He would have taken it.
The mists were fast around him, and the
Lady of Swords was at his side, to keep
him safe from harm. But she will not
be able to fight the shadows that will
come when the mists part.
The hissing, it comes, it hungers. I
cannot It will not go away. I stop my
ears and still it hisses. Dederic took
me away. Dederic’s blade is sharp but
it will not slay the Wyrm. No. It
will hunt the birds, and it will hunger
for more.
Uncle has put a lock on IT. It itches.
The singing lady came today! We drank
wine and she sang and it was beautiful
and sad. The song drives away the
shadows and blood with tears instead.
But it itches and the singing lady’s
song could not make it stop.
She is
beautiful and brave although she
doesn’t know what is coming. I know
and it is full of the SONG. The
beautiful evil song that hungers. She
mustn’t sing it!
The wyrm is coming. It hisses. The
mist man. Griffin. It will hurt. It
will cut! No. Must go, must go.
Dederic will be angry. But the blood
burns, it can help. They have the
skull it whispers its name. Drive it
away! I will go.
Blood drips from my fingers, it is fire
and life. It spins patterns and webs.
The hissing one is gone, the mist man
drove it away, the chosen ones fought
it well. Everything is fire and
brightness now, the world sings and I
am full full full. The smooth stones
soothe the cuts, but the Nasty Woman
didn’t like them and then she brought
the Bad Man and he took them and it was
all
now
the
not
darkness and I could not hide. And
IT is back again but stronger and
words will only be the key but I do
know them and it ITCHES.
Shadows on the moon, shadows of the
fist, clutching striving breaking
burning death. The body of the world
torn and ripped assunder and the
pattern shattered and the green stones
scattered. Another winter will come
and all will be dead and broken. Am I
broken? All the doors are OPEN. Where
is the song? I can hear it in my dreams
and Griffin is singing and Samarra is
singing and it drives back the broken
feeling. Dederic cannot fight them all
and they will come and he will FALL and
the weight of the blood and death will
pull him down down down but I will not
leave him and we will fight and my
blood will be strong and they will not
have us though we are of the garden of
night!
Samarra! So near very near but not
clear. The Nasty Woman will not let
her pass but I wish I want where is
she? She does not see a broken ugly
thing she wants to help. Please. No.
Don’t go.
The feast of great great great great
great great great great Grand-uncle.
Griffin will be there, and Samarra, and
the Cracked One. And the quiet man will
look at the flowers and be sad, but he
does not yet know the true sorrows
ahead that I have seen. And the grey
one seeks the truth but will he learn
it? How is a thing lost? Is it just
misplaced, or is it forgotten, or is it
stolen? The eyes they watch and Uncle
will make me look for the lady but
there are eyes all around her. No no
no.
The eyes they watch and watch. I cut
at them and try to strike them but
still they watch and watch. I cannot
find a place to hide, they watch and
watch and even blood will not cover me
to hide away. Would mists cover them?
The weapons, they will strike out the
eyes. Yes, they will strike her down
and she will look no more.
No, I will not sit. I will not! But
all the doors are OPEN and it is coming
in and I cannot stop it. The blood
flows and takes it away but not all and
then it goes to HIM and it goes to the
bad place I cannot see that makes my
mind hurt to not see.
Griffin will win. He must. I know. He
will eat cakes and make ambrosia and it
will be sweet. And I will see the lady
of swords and Samarra the singer and
the Cracked One and I will meet the
Daughter of Birches and her mother
perhaps will come to visit someday.
Dederic is very angry. There is a
thundercloud in his face and his hand
is on his sword. I said we should
leave and go away and take Griffin and
Samarra and Valena and all my friends
with us. There is darkness coming, and
fists. We should go away. Away away.
Somewhere there are no chairs, only
green grass to sit upon under the
sunlight.
But Griffin won! He is the king and his
bells jingle and now he will come to
visit.
He is here! But all is not bright for
Dederic must go away and serve the
Garden of Night and another death will
be written in the Book of the Hooded
Man. Uncle and Dederic share words
like swords, but Dederic is the best of
course and he has his way. If only he
did not need to go we would all walk in
the garden together.
Griffin met the flowers and I hope he
liked them especially the ones that
have his name. The Samarra lily is
quite beautiful but it was not like
Griffin for he has many different
colors and there are so many beautiful
flowers. But not the rose the rose is
the Lady of Swords for it is beautiful
but also sharp and will protect that
which it guards. But Griffin is the
violet and the belladonna and the
yarrow and the heart’s-ease. Is he the
forget-me-not as well? I pick their
small blue eyes and hope he will not
forget but he has forgotten before and
when he remembers will it all change
and will he forget me and remember only
the pain and sorrow and the betrayal?
I don’t want him to forget. I wish we
might stay in the garden forever and
the fireflies will dance around us and
all the doors will be closed except one
my heart.
No, no, not that. He will turn away
away, the blade it casts a long shadow.
The fists come, they come and will turn
all to ash. No, there is no one and I
am alone and all the doors are OPEN and
it is coming and I cannot stop it. Stop
it! Get it off. Off! Off! It will not
come of, not until the Bad Man wants
it.
Griffin where are you I cannot see.
The fireflies light the way, and I can
see again.
Don’t go away. Don’t let
the mists take you away.