Of Bees and Mist Read Online Free Page A

mother in jewels, took enormous pride in your survival, and proclaimed to the town that he was the happiest man alive. ‘My daughter, who has defied death, is the loveliest creature in all the lands,’ he said. It was not long before a handful of people took offense.
    “What arrogance!’ they fumed behind his back. ‘His child is barely alive, and already he’s trumpeting his good luck to the winds!’ Your father dismissed this as idle talk, but the more he ignored it, the louder the rumbling became. Soon everyone in town was whispering, ‘Pull up a chair and watch. Heaven is bringing Gabriel down.’ Oh, those ingrates! How easily they forgot his dinners! I don’t believe in curses, but to this day I wonder if all their ill wishes contributed to what happened. By the time your father took notice, it was too late. The cold wind was already tearing the house upside down.
    “It happened one night while the house was asleep. A gentle wind clattered the bedroom window, loud enough to wake your mother but not your father. Thinking the latch was unfastened, your mother got up to fix it. The instant she touched the window, the wind gathered force and flung her back against the bed. It howled like a beast of prey, ruffling the books on the desk, fluttering curtains, sliding your bassinet across the room. Your mother tried to wrestle it out the window, but the wind proved too quick and strong for her. She was on the brink of waking your father when the tumult died of its own accord. Shaking her head, your mother returned to bed. You and your father remained asleep.
    “By then I had been promoted to look after you, and I was the first to notice the changes. The drop in temperature, starting in the master bedroom. The ineffectiveness of blankets and fire. The duskinside the house, even at the height of noon. Every morning the maids set about their duties grumbling and shuddering. Bathing was a torment. Boiling water grew cold in a matter of seconds. By the time I discovered ice on your lips, I decided I could no longer keep silent.
    “To my surprise, your mother told me she had noticed some of the same things. She was a different woman then, gentle and confiding. She told me about the incident with the wind, and confessed that she was troubled by it. ‘A fluke in the weather, madam,’ I tried to assure her. ‘There must be a logical explanation for all this strangeness.’ She did not believe me. As I turned to leave, she said something that made my heart lurch. ‘No matter what happens, promise me you’ll take care of my child. Think of me as you do today, even if I become a stranger to myself.’ Stunned, I stood staring as if she had struck me. A part of me wanted to weep for I didn’t know what.
    “A few days later, your father complained about the chill in his bed. All night long a slab of ice was rubbing against him, making him so stiff he could hardly stand in the morning. The next night your mother kept the fire up until dawn, but it only made your father shiver all the more. A building inspector was summoned on Monday morning. After a week of combing floors and knocking on walls, the man sent an enormous bill and reported that the structure of the house was as sound as the day it was built.
    “The cold seemed to affect your father the most. The rest of us—including you—could sleep with a few extra blankets, but not your father. He tried sleeping in different rooms at different times of day, but the chill followed him wherever he went. The occasional rest he managed to get was short and fitful. He became extremely irritable, critical of everything, and before long, he stopped inviting guests to the house.
    “Your mother responded differently to the cold. She grew agitated and withdrawn, lost her appetite, and frequently complained of headaches. Keeping a relentless watch over you, she seldom left her room, and I often found her crying for no reason. She had troublemaking up her mind, and in her