Daisy's Room
Kaelyn went into Daisy's bedroom, just for a moment, just to sit quietly on her way to bed. tomorrow they would be doing the plan, and if all went well Daisy would be back in this room, safe and peaceful.
But not, Kaelyn realized, the same. Nothing would bring back the version of Daisy that could always trust others. Kaelyn wondered what Daisy was undergoing, what was happening to her mind and heart as she was told, over and over, that her value was simply in her sacrifice. How could a heart endure that? Seen in this light, Daisy's room took on a mausoleum air, the silent elegy of the version of Daisy that, no matter what happened next, died in that cave.
Kaelyn sat down at Daisy's desk. It was much like hers, in that they had both been built decades before the young women were born. But where Kaelyn's desk in her room was neat and tidy, Daisy's was...well, not messy, as much as Kaelyn liked to accuse her of that. But it was decorated. Daisy had a pile of drawings on one corner of the desk, her own work in charcoal or pencil. She had a framed, pressed Daisy over her bed, the first plant she had preserved successfully, bound eternally in a static form of life, the essence of the flower caught in a fine mesh woven in moonlight, carefully prepared with dew melted from frost, and then pressed at sunrise. Kaelyn and Daisy had spent a long cold night preparing the preservation spells. Kaelyn had preserved turmeric and anise, two useful herbs that would be hard to find in winter when trade was more difficult. Daisy had preserved a flower because it was pretty. Kaelyn had been more than a little annoyed by that at the time, but now Kaelyns' herbs were long gone and Daisy's flower was still fresh.
So many things came so easily to Daisy. She had made friends almost instantly, and when she went to visit people they listened to her advice, and it was only months later that Kaelyn really learned how Daisy had done it: she taught with compliments. She told people what a good job they had been doing, and then “reminded” them of one thing that might make it work “just a little better”. It had taken Kaelyn a while longer yet to learn to do that. People had always been so proud to show Daisy how well they had done.
Kaelyn realized she wanted Daisy to see how well she had done as well.
It was easy to love Daisy. Every boy in the village had managed it, up to and including Mason, Kaelyn suspected. But Kaelyn also loved Daisy, like a sister, like a best friend.
Kaelyn was crying a little now, and sat down, then laid down on Daisy's bed. Daisy's comforter was warm and her pillow soft, two things Kaelyn hadn't felt in days. It ws tempting to just climb into bed here, but she daren't in case that broke the spell that was giving Daisy some ghost of comfort in her cave-cell. this was a price Kaelyn was more than happy to pay.
Kaelyn sighed deeply and sat up, getting ready to go to her own cold bed, when she saw mama standing in the doorway. In the light of their two lamps and in Kaelyn's present frame of mind, she saw Mama as Marion, a girl who was her own age, but with years of experience. The flickering shadows hid the wrinkles, the darkness hid the gray hair, and what Kaelyn saw was the lively, active eyes and warmhearted smile.
“You know you have the bigger room and the southern exposure,” Mama said, stepping closer and wiping Kaelyn's tears away with her hand. “But did you know why? Because Daisy picked this room before you got here. We had assigned her that room; she switched the signs on the doors. When I asked her why she said 'oh, you had the rooms backward, so I fixed it!' like that made any sort of sense.”
Kaelyn laughed a little through her tears. That was a pretty solid example of Daisy-logic. “I fixed it,” was her explanation for everything.
Kaelyn hugged Mama. “I don't know if that story makes me feel grateful or guilty,” she said.