In moments like this, Phanny could believe that she might be a girl in a book. At no other time did the workings of fate seem more pronounced, she thought, than at partings. At such a time, the moment of meeting glows bright in one's mind, freight with wondrous meaning.
Ah, one realizes, so this is why the individual threads of our lives intersected briefly.
As Phanny watched Amelia and Burns and their children load their belongings, bowls and blankets and sundry little things, mementos from the life they were leaving behind, on a sturdy donkey cart, the bright air of that silver dawn seemed to promise miraculous possibilities. She, uninteresting, sunshine-less Phanny, was about to meet more friends, see more places.
And yes, she'd decided. She may have only known them a day, but her heart will forever remember them as friends who offered her a safe harbor when, alone and abandoned, she had needed it most.
Because of this brief meeting, Phanny felt a little bit more alive, a little bit more awake since losing Papa. Until now, she hadn't even realized she was going through life half-asleep.
A tug on her skirt made her look down to see Rowan's small face smiling up at her. She dropped down to her knees in front of the girl.
"Hello," Phanny said.
Rowan stretched out a hand, offering a thin, sky blue, satin hair ribbon. "It's my lucky ribbon."
"Oh, do you want me to tie your hair with it?" The offer left Phanny naturally, before she realized that the girl's orange curls were already braided and tied.
Rowan giggled and shook her head. "No, it's for you. You don't have one."
Phanny's hand flew to the tendril of black hair that hung down her front shoulder to her waist.
"But I can't possibly take your lucky one," she said.
"Don't worry, I've got lots." Rowan nudged it towards her again, and this time Phanny gratefully accepted it. She gathered her hair over her shoulder on one side, braided it all the way down, and tied it off with the ribbon.
"Pretty," Rowan said, smiling to show a charming gap right at the center of her two front teeth.
"Thank you," Tears gathered in Phanny's eyes, which she quickly blinked back, before she made herself look completely crazy.
Amelia came closer, too, and took Phanny's hands in her own. "I wish you well, child. You stick close to Bastan, and you'll be safe. Don't be stubborn, now. We must know when we're better off with someone's care. He's been places, so he knows what it's like."
"Yes, ma'am," she said, looking over the woman's shoulder at the man in question, who was helping Burns secure the cargo on the cart with thick rope. Phanny vaguely noticed the muscles on his forearms cording as he pulled the rope tight on one side of the cart, tying it off.
"You'll be alright, child." Amelia patted her cheek. "Here, I wanted to give this to you." Amelia took out the mermaid comb from her apron pocket and placed it in Phanny's hand.
"No, Amelia, I can't–"
"Take it, child," said Amelia firmly, pressing Phanny's fingers over the smooth wood, then, her voice gentling, "as a little keepsake."
This time, Phanny could no longer hold back her tears. She threw her arms around Amelia's neck and buried her face on the woman's shoulder.
"There, there, child, you'll be alright." Amelia patted the young girl's back.
Phanny pulled away. "What about you? I heard Burns say your money wasn't enough to get into Draconia."
"Oh, don't worry about us. We'll be passing by a little border town just outside the entrance, and we'll stay there a few days selling our wares, we'll earn enough coin in no time."
Phanny wiped her cheeks, deep in thought.
"You've got ten gold, right? Enough for the children's passage?" She rummaged through the satchel slung over one shoulder and scooped out four gold coins. "It's all I got, but it'll be enough to get into Draconia, at least."
"No, child, I will not take your coin." Amelia said, raising her voice and brooking no room for argument.
"Please, Amelia," Phanny pushed the coin toward the woman. "I'm ever so grateful for your kindness, and I want you to make it there safely."
She could see the indecision warring in the woman's eyes.
"Take it, it's not even mine. I just stole it yesterday when I escaped. It's from the money my stepmother got by selling me off."
Suddenly, Wilder was there beside Amelia, wordlessly pushing Phanny's hand back to her.
"Here," he said to Amelia, tossing a cloth coin purse into the woman's hands. "It's the rest of Burns's half, like we agreed."
Amelia smiled up at Bastan's grim face and patted his arm. "I knew you'd come around, Bastan, dear. You're a good sort, you are, though you try to hide it."
Wilder grunted in response. "You better head off, before you lose more daylight."
"Well, off we go, Phanny dear." Amelia's eyes seemed to be getting misty, now, too.
Phanny stood up and walked with the woman to the cart. The children were already seated, legs hanging over the back of the cart. Phanny walked up to where Burns rode astride the donkey.
"Goodbye, Mr. Burns," Phanny said.
He laughed, a deep hearty laugh. "That's not my name, lass. Everyone only calls me that on account of my burn marks. It's Diggory," he said, "Denzel Diggory."
"Oh," Phanny laughed, herself, "Mr. Diggory, then."
"To you lass, just Denzel will do." He winked at her.
Phanny smiled wide, eyes gathering with new tears. "Alright. Goodbye, Denzel."
"Ya!" He signaled to the donkey, and in a moment the donkey and cart clattered on by, passing Phanny.
"Goodbye! Safe travels!" She kept waving at them until the cart had disappeared in the bend down the mountain path.
She sniffled.
"Gods," Wilder muttered as he walked past her, towards where the black horse was now waiting by a tree, loaded with saddlebags, and ready to go. "It's not like you knew them long, no need to waste your bloody tears."
She quickly wiped her cheeks and followed him. "What about you? Aren't you sad they're going? They were your friends."
He whipped back to face her. "They're not my friends, let's get that straight. I only stayed here last night 'cause it's a good place to hide, and Burns owed me after siccing those Wilder Hounds on me. They were probably sniffing around every single inn from Wilderwhile to the West Midlands last night."
"But," her brows knitted together in confusion, "they seem to know you so well."
He placed his hands on his hips and sighed, as if put out that he had to explain these things to her, instead of her just believing him immediately. "I worked with Burns a few times, but that's it."
"Alright," she said. She was still doubtful, but it seemed like it was a sore spot with him, so she decided to stop questioning for now. Though, for the life of her, she couldn't imagine why he wanted to deny his friendship with the dwarf family so strongly.
"Are we heading out, too?" She asked, coming closer to him and the horse.
"In a minute," he said. "First put your hands on my shoulders."
Phanny blushed at the request, but she hasn't been led wrongly by obeying him yet, so she did as he asked. He swiftly lifted her onto a side-saddle position atop the horse. He then held one of her ankles and lifted it up.
"Hey!" Phanny kicked his hand away and pressed her skirts down her legs, cheeks glowing red. "What do you think you're doing!"
His eyebrows shot up. "Woah, there. Just checking on how bad those feet are. If we wait even longer to treat em' they might fester then we'll have to chop 'em off."
"Well, you could've warned me," Phanny mumbled. "And not so high." Though she wasn't sure how he'd manage the request seeing as how his shoulders rose above the already-bigger-than-average horse's back.
Wilder's mouth twitched. "Yes, ma'am."
He stepped back from the horse and lifted her foot at a much more acceptable height, mouth forming in a grim line as he looked it over.
"Is it that bad?" Phanny had felt pain, but it wasn't so bad as stepmother's whippings, so she'd found it easy to ignore.
Wilder lifted the other foot. "Just a few scratches, but it's better not to aggravate it further."
He opened one of the saddlebags and handed Phanny a tin pot. "Hold that."
He then took out a water flask and bit off the stopper, pouring cold water down Phanny's one foot, then the other. Phanny watched his bent head as he worked to dry her foot with a small scrap of linen he took from a saddlebag.
"Hand that over," he said, after he put everything else away. Phanny did as he said, and he started to gently dab ointment on the wounds. It burned a little.
"I can do that myself you know," she said after a moment.
"Yeah?" he said, not removing his eyes from Phanny's foot. "Well, I can do it better."
"I'm a full-grown woman," she said, but he kept ignoring her. "22 years old. Not a toddler at all."
He looked up then. "I see that you're a woman. I only meant, that you've probably never left Wilder before, and you won't know what it's like to travel Fantalasian roads for miles, so I'll have to take care of you. Like one does a toddler."
Phanny considered that for a moment. "Alright, I won't hold what you said against you-"
Wilder rolled his eyes and went back to his task, proceeding to wrap each of her feet with linen bandage.
"-because holding grudges is exhausting."
"I'm bloody grateful," he said. Though Phanny could tell he didn't really mean it.
"There," he muttered as he neatly tucked in the ends of the bandage on her last foot, and climbed on the horse behind her.
"Where to?" asked Phanny.
"First, we're off to spend some of that gold."