1.3

When she awoke, the fog was clear. The sky above was a flat, hot blue, and the landscape shimmered. From inside the car, however, she felt no heat. It took her a moment to realize the car had stopped; obviously, they had arrived. She turned away from her own window and saw that on the other side of the car was a long black gate, beyond which a dusty path wound its way up to a house, too far away to see clearly. She could not see Gregor from where she lay. Blinking away sleep, she shuffled herself into a sitting position. There he was, outside by the gate. She realized he meant to walk the rest of the way to the house and sighed, thinking painfully of her worn-out sandals. Resigned, she popped the side door open with a button and slipped out. In an instant he was by her side.

"Good morning, Nina."

Startled, she pressed back against the car. Gregor knelt down and held out a hand.

"Do you want to walk all that way, or do you want to ride on my shoulders? I should imagine it wouldn't be a pleasant walk for your young feet."

She was still too groggy to care. She took his hand and clambered up onto his shoulders. Painfully he rose to his feet, shifting her weight for a moment before clutching his cane and hobbling forward. Nina felt guilty. She had forgotten the cane, forgotten the crack of his knees whenever he bent. It was a far walk, but she should not have been so selfish. She squirmed slightly and made as if to slip off his back.

"Hold still, now, I don't want to drop you," he said. She tugged lightly on his ear to get his attention. He turned his head slightly to look back at her as she pointed to his cane, then started to slide off his shoulders again.

"Nevermind that, you," he grunted. Nina was startled by the sudden harsh note in his voice. "Just stay there and stop wiggling." Cowed, she stayed as still as she could manage. Gregor opened a door in the iron gate and stepped through, closing it behind him. They began to walk up the path, slowly.

"We'll move faster as we go," he said. "It takes me a few minutes to get up to speed sometimes." Nina herself was stiff from the long car ride. She could not imagine how his legs must feel. Cautiously, gently, she patted him on the head. He stiffened for a moment, then laughed.

True to his word, Gregor moved faster as they went. Nina realized that had she decided to walk on her own, she could not have kept up with him, despite his injury. She was also beginning to enjoy the ride. True, it was hot, but there was a gentle breeze in her face and the air smelled sweet and clean, and Gregor began to hum as he walked. The length of the path was nothing compared to the endless waiting with no goal in sight she'd experienced in the car. As they got closer, she tried to pick out details on the house. From far away it had looked black, but as they came closer she saw it was a soft, dark brown. Large windows glistened in the sun, and she envisioned spacious rooms with patches of sunlight highlighting soft rugs and flowers. Closer still, and she could make out flowerbeds by the trees surrounding the house. The dirt path turned to cobbled stone beneath Gregor's feet and the grass surrounding the path grew denser and richer. She could smell the flowers by now.

"Welcome to my home, Nina," he said. She was slightly surprised that he was not out of breath. "I hope you can come to think of it as your home, too."

Nina frowned. She already had a home. This place was lovely, but Gregor was not her father and he could never be. Her loyalty was to her parents, however misplaced it may have been.

They made their way into the cool shade of the trees in the front yard. Gregor knelt down slowly and allowed her to slip off his back to the ground. He took her hand as he stood and led her to the front porch. He opened the door, and together they went into the darkness.

Nina blinked as her eyes adjusted to the transition. It took her a moment to realize Gregor was no longer by her side, and the door was closed behind her. She listened for a long moment. There was no noise but the soft whisper of wind outside the door. Somehow, she was alone.

The room was cool and dark and smelled of good leather and old books. The walls were obscured by various kinds of bookshelves, but between them she could see faded wood panelling. Scattered around the room were armchairs of different styles and patterns, with a single large couch against the back wall. They all were old, obviously well-used, but still looked comfortable and soft. Mismatched end tables sat by some of the chairs. Looking down, she saw hints of dark hardwood flooring beneath overlapping rugs, no two alike. The room felt haphazard and schizophrenic. It was undeniably comfortable, but the only things in the room well-kept and organized were the hundreds of books lining the walls. Nina walked closer to the shelves and peered at the books nearest her eye level. There was no dust on any of the books. She tilted her head and marvelled at the intricate lettering on the spines. She was used to simple books of arithmetic and history at school, and had seen nothing like the thick, colourful volumes of Gregor's collection.

Keeping her hands prudently clasped behind her, she moved from shelf to shelf, reading off titles. A sharp crack startled her, and she jumped. She looked around quickly, calming when she reassured herself she was still alone in the room. The noise must have come from further in the house. She found the door and went on into the hall beyond.

The hallway was darker than the library had been. Stray beams of light found their way through an occasional open doorway, but there were no windows in the hall itself. The crack sounded again, further down the hall. She kept walking.

The hallway was far longer than she'd expected. The house hadn't looked quite so large from the pathway. She stopped, uncertain. What if the crack had been her imagination? Or, if it were real, what if she'd already passed the source of the noise? She couldn't call out. She began to rap her small fists against the wooden wall, loudly as she could manage.

"Nina?" She heard. The voice was close. She knocked faster.

Gregor stepped from a room down the hall from the way she'd come. He was smiling.

"How do you like my home, Nina?"

She glowered at him. She was not amused, being left alone and afraid in a big, dark house. Nina crossed her arms angrily. Gregor forced his smile away with great trouble, composing his face into a semblance of apology. He knelt down, and there was the crack again.

"I'm sorry, little one. I've been alone out here so long, I do love my games. I mean no harm by them. Forgive me?"

She continued to frown. He looked down for a moment and sighed. After a moment he brightened.

"Hungry?"

Nina hesitated. She certainly didn't want him to think he was off the hook, but she was, in fact, ravenous. She nodded slowly, still frowning disapprovingly. Gregor clapped his hands and smiled. He took his cane from behind the door, took her hand, and led her down the hall. He turned right, then left, then left again, straight at this junction and left at the next—she would never be able to find her way back alone. How could the house possibly be so large?

Finally they reached a set of double doors. Gregor pushed them open and beckoned her through. In the room beyond was a large empty table, a fireplace behind it, with a dozen chairs seated around it neatly. On the walls were dusty old paintings. She followed him to the table where he pulled a chair out for her. She sat, and he was gone, disappeared into a door opposite the one they came through. Some time later he returned, bearing a plate of sandwiches, a bowl of grapes, and two tall glasses of lemonade on a tray. He set the tray on the table in front of Nina and took a chair next to her. She fidgeted. It was impolite to start eating first.

Gregor picked up a sandwich and held it out to her. She hesitated for only a moment more before taking it with an unconscious smile. As she ate, she was oblivious to his stare.

He was glad to see her happy, finally. Her face was lit up with a simple joy. He scolded himself for not feeding her sooner. In recent years, he had forgotten to eat most days, only seeking the kitchen when his head ached and his muscles were hollow and empty of energy. Now that he had a child to care for he'd have to remember to feed her regularly.

I'm thinking of her like a pet, he thought, slightly alarmed.

Nina finished her sandwich happily and began to reach for the grapes. She stopped mid-motion, realizing she'd not been given permission. She glanced at Gregor nervously. Gregor laughed.

"Go ahead, dovelet, eat as much as you like. You're free to do as you please, you know."

She grasped a handful of grapes with a small, grateful smile to him. Gregor felt his face light up in return. Making her happy must be his highest priority.

Nina picked up a sandwich and held it towards him. He took it reluctantly and ate, more for her sake than to sate his own hunger.

They ate in contented silence.