Molten rock sputtered from glowing welts in the walls and floor of the Underworld chamber, the flora around each crumbling into cinders from the sheer heat. Near one of the largest impact sites lay the broken ruin of a battle suit, the minuscule pilot struggling to free himself from the carcass of his craft before the lava consumed him.
Aellope ignored the creature. The strange invaders had chosen death when they came for her, for her sister.
She ignored her wounds too. Claret stains soaked her cerulean plumage, but though the puncturing bolts of the automatons drew blood, they could not threaten her life. The deeper wounds from the battlesuits’ blades were more serious, but most had been narrow enough to cauterize. The burns would become scars and the feathers might not re-grow, but there was no time to wait for her natural healing. There was no time even to catch her breath or rest her agonized flight muscles.
She had to reach Arawn, and to bring her back to the surface.
Before it was too late.
The titanic harpy took wing, soaring over the devastation of the battlefield and the mangled machines which had stood against her.
Plunging into the shaft beyond them, she plummeted deeper into the subterranean maze that kept her sister from her.
~~~
“Marshal, the Pharyes tactics appear to have changed.”
The voice of the Valkyrie was low and hoarse, quiet enough that she was hard to hear against the rush of the nearby waterfall, but even so all present paid heed.
“I agree,” spoke a second woman, others also nodding. “Until now they were content to defend their mines and other key areas, but their movements have grown more aggressive. Reckless even. They have all the tunnels above blocked now and they’re throwing huge numbers at us.”
“Did you learn anything from the new captives?”
“Nothing which could explain this sudden change in tactics.”
“Could they be worried that if we remain mobile in the Underworld that we might launch an attack on Pharyes lands? Their ‘Deephold’ perhaps?”
“The distances are simply too great, and the Formorians would never allow us to pass through their territory. Besides, they seem to be trying to drive us deeper into the Underworld, not back to the surface.”
Looming over the gathered Valkyries in the low light, the imposing figure of their princess frowned as her advisors debated the troubling development. Even seated as she was, the muscular warrior entirely covered the damp back wall of the cave within the larger cavern. Her spear, thick as a tree trunk lay with her bow in readiness at her side, the weapons half-hidden among the dense undergrowth of glowing purple and blue ferns.
In her hand was a bowl of bitter, earthy broth, the best they could concoct from the unpleasant meat of the denizens of the Underworld. Arawn was glad to set it aside as she spoke at last.
“The Varangians are cunning, and they know the Underworld better than we ever will. I think Tanys is right – they’re trying to herd us, probably into another trap. One we can’t detect until it closes around us. The question is why they’re so anxious to kill us now, even at great cost.”
One of the lesser nobles, Tanys’ gorgeous silver and golden plumage outdid even Arawn’s red and green feathers, shaking in a display of finery as the thickset witch bobbed her head in agreement.
“I think that the fresh veins of gems they’re mining are more vital to them than any of our captives would admit. We know now that they attacked us to gain access to these resources, but that need alone doesn’t explain their aggression. I suspect their kingdom is experiencing severe gemstone shortages.”
“So they need us out of the way in order to expand their mining operations,” suggested another harpy. “Makes sense to me. That explains the renewed offensive.”
“It would, but then where was this desperation when we began our assault?” another asked. “It was their own trap which lured us down here.”
Arawn gripped her knuckles, her tail swishing irritably as she recalled her decision to take the Pharyes bait and venture into the depths beneath Southtown. It had made sense at the time – with the sky filled with magic and metal projectiles it was the only way they could continue the attack. Yet now….
The shockwave that had ripped up through the Underworld had her on edge, while the change in the Pharyes tactics made her worry they knew something about it which she didn’t. Could they be trying to drive the Valkyries down into the jaws of some lurking calamity from the bottom of the world?
“We lack information,” she declared. “Allowing ourselves to be driven underground has left us ignorant of fresh developments on the surface. And elsewhere. That was my mistake, and my arrogance in assuming we would destroy the enemy before the situation developed further.”
“We all support your decision, Marshal. We all thought as you did,” Tanys insisted, others chiming in with their own agreement.
Arawn hesitated there, planning a few words of gratitude and recognition. The Valkyries might be elite warriors, but they were far outside their element, huddled as they were atop a subterranean cliff in a cavern many miles below the skies that were their home.
She had no chance to speak them however.
“I have a response from my spell,” Tanys declared.
All eyes turned at once to the warrior-witch.
“There’s movement overhead, large creatures disturbing the air. I feel the essence too; it’s the Varangians!”
“Valkyries, to arms!” Arawn boomed at once.
“I’m detecting them all around us this time, moving in all of the tunnels, even sending vibrations through the rock…. We’re trapped!”
The princess rose to an awkward crouch, as she was forced to carefully extricate herself from her seated position without trampling any of her allies.
Once more she cursed her arrogance in thinking that Valkyries could win swift victories in caves as they did in the open air.
Battle began soon after Tanys’ first detection of the enemy, with the largest force of Varangians they had yet seen, emerging from every direction, the tunnels crawling with golems of all designs.
Multiple Gullinbursti had broken through the walls too, making way for dozens of Skidbladnir, hundreds of Triskelions and yet more footsoldiers, the fierce offensive leading to chaotic fighting all about.
No calls for surrender were made this time, and no mercy was given by either side.
Both were fighting for their lives.
Despite the impatience of the Varangian assault, Arawn couldn’t deny that it might well prove successful. Despite that she sounded no retreat; that was exactly what the Pharyes wanted – easy targets scattered about the tunnels to pick off, or fleeing warriors that could be cut down from the back.
Instead they would hold their position and fight. Arawn was proud to see her Valkyries steadfast all around her, even as bolts and flames assailed them.
She herself had taken up her bow, putting an end to several Skidbladnir and their pilots personally, yet the tide of the battle pressed in all the same, the sheer weight of numbers forcing back the Valkyrie lines, even as the tight spaces robbed them of their greatest advantage – flight.
That made holding their formation all the more critical. There could be no escape to the skies to evade the concentrated enemy forces or regroup.
So it was that the Marshal made for the centre of the clash, spear in hand, mowing down Triskelions and clashing with Skidbladnir as she rallied her troops.
If the Varangians meant to finish them, they would pay dearly for the lives of her harpies.
One of the unique, ‘heirloom’ models was before her. The strange ancient machines were powerful and unpredictable, each with its own magics, what their captives termed ‘aulogemscis’.
The pilot threw their vehicle at her, a spiked mace in its hands, the transparent prongs glinting with a sheen of frost.
Arawn’s wings sped her dodge, the Marshal slipping easily to the side of the attack, the space where she had stood bursting with fractal spears of ice that shredded all in their path.
With supernal power her own spear arced in an impossible curve, coiling around the foe’s shield to punch through the chest of the Skidbladnir, shattering its core.
She stepped over the dying war machine, ignoring the gouts of acrid fluid which hissed from the punctured tubes that ran through it like arteries. There were many more foes still pouring into the chamber.
“Valkyries, to me! Take close formations and don’t let them separate you! Stop the projectiles with magic!”
Even as she gave the command Tanys and the other witches were forming new barriers; walls of wind and ice, or rising mounds of rock. Yet Tanys stopped, a look of horror on her broad features, usually so fair.
“Marshal! There’s something else coming, right above us! I can feel the essence, it’s overwhelming!”
Arawn was no witch, but even she could sense the furious roil of mana so rapidly approaching.
What she couldn’t do was understand how her sister, the Empress of the Cyclopean Bones, could be there, in the Underworld.
With a cataclysmic thunderclap the roof of the chamber shattered, lightning tearing through bedrock like fire through dry leaves, unleashing an avalanche upon the core of the Varangian forces.
A moment later the Stormqueen was upon them, mana radiating from her every feather in electric tongues as her rage warped the air, spells unleashed in barrage with not even a word of incantation as she plowed into the fray. The enemy lines shattered at her assault, the disordered Varangians still recovering from the avalanche, their leaders mown down by blades of wind or blasted to blood-streaked slag by bolts of lightning.
Confused an aghast though she might be by the sudden arrival and the suicidal recklessness of the subsequent attack, the Marshal was close behind her, Arawn’s spear flickering out faster than eyes could follow to strike down any Skidbladnir that dared retaliate towards the Empress.
In instinct as much as duty the Valkyries rallied to their monarch, and in terror as much as tactics the Pharyes pulled back.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The arrival could not have been better timed, nor placed, the Stormqueen striking at the very heart of the enemy formation with untamed ferocity. What had seemed a fight for their very survival was rapidly turning to a resounding victory for the harpies.
It was a testament to the courage and determination in which their Varangian captives had prided themselves that the battle did not become a rout, but Arawn would settle for allowing their hasty retreat.
In the wake of the battle the harpies were left exhausted but exultant, raising many cheers to their queen.
Arawn was quick to join the chorus, yet there was no triumph in her heart. Not when she realized that their Empress had come to them alone, covered in wounds and the filth of many battles.
Her blood ran cold to imagine what must have transpired on the surface to lead to such an absurdity.
“Sister!” Aellope’s voice was thick, pained and lacking her usual regal tone, her golden eyes watery.
The Stormqueen flew to her, pulling the princess into a tight embrace before Arawn could react.
“You’re alive… you’re alive…,” Ael whispered, their heads pressed together. “When I heard you’d gone missing attacking Southtown I thought… I feared the worst.”
With some difficulty Arawn extricated herself from the embrace without letting her discomfort or fears show. As they separated she felt fresh blood adhering to her feathers and scales.
“Your highness, you’re injured! Please let us treat your wounds! Healers, tend to the Stormqueen at once!”
At the snapped order several come forward. Aellope tried to refuse outright, arguing that she could heal on her own and that others were in greater need. Weariness appeared to be catching up to her in the wake of the battle however, as in the end she agreed to rest and accept treatment – provided those more critically wounded were seen to first.
The rest of the Valkyries busied themselves with gathering up the scattered tools and supplies of their simple camp, reforming their perimeter and renewing their warning magics. There were also fresh captives to restrain, victims of the hasty retreat the Pharyes were forced to make.
They couldn’t remain in place long, certainly not for another ‘night’, but there were too many injured to travel immediately, and the Underworld offered no safe havens nearby, at least so far as they could tell.
Arawn was kept busy with all those matters and more while Aellope was receiving healing, but when the temporary camp was finally calm she hurried back to her sister’s side.
The healers were just departing as the Marshal arrived, leaving the royals in the relative privacy of the same cave that had earlier hosted the Valkyries’ meeting. Only the Marshal’s guards were within earshot, waiting just outside. The Queen should have had her own too, yet somehow she had come alone.
Aellope was gulping down water as though she had just traversed a great desert as Arawn approached. She turned to see her sister, a look of relief spreading across her handsome features once more.
Although visibly drained from the healing and the battle, as well as whatever had come before, she seemed much improved from her initial state on arrival. Her bleeding was stanched and her burns had faded into patches of red skin. It dismayed Arawn to note that her sister was still missing patches of feathers and down, but attempts to treat her scars would have to wait. There were more urgent matters to attend to.
“Aellope.”
Arawn spoke to her sister, before her Queen could address her.
“It’s good to see you, very good, but… I can’t understand how this is possible. How did you get here? How were you injured? And where are your guards? And surely you didn’t leave the Eyrie alone, in the middle of war… did something happen?”
“I came because I realized I’d made a terrible mistake, ordering you to attack Southtown.”
Ael spoke quietly, her normally powerful voice soft, the hard tone and formality of a monarch replaced with the tenderness of family.
“When I learned your forces hadn’t returned I was dreadfully worried for you. I am so very sorry, Arawn, I should never have sent you here. I had lost sight of the things that really mattered.”
The younger woman took a seat opposite her as she tried to make sense of what she was saying.
“You’re… sorry?”
Arawn studied the face of her elder sister, yet the shame and anguish seemed as sincere as it was inexplicable.
“I don’t understand…. Everyone agreed that Southtown had to be retaken. Why are you here now? What’s happened on the surface while we were gone?”
Aellope closed her stunning almond eyes, turning her head away. To any other subject the gesture might have seemed aloof, but Arawn could tell she was struggling to keep of the façade of calm.
“Sister,” Arawn murmured, leaning closer, placing her hand on the older woman’s knee. “Why did you come here? Why alone, risking your life? Why aren’t you in the Eyrie?!”
Although she’d had no such intent, the final words were an accusation more than a question.
Although she might have hoped it in her desperate flight to Southtown, the Stormqueen had known her Marshal could never simply embrace her as a sister and celebrate her coming without question. Arawn was too resolute, too dutiful; too diligent to ignore her duty by giving in to the emotions they shared at their reunion as sisters.
Even so it was a shock when Arawn stared at her with those reproachful eyes, a greater pain than any injury she had suffered. She had at least thought her sister would look happy to see her.
She had been certain too that Arawn would understand why she had to come, even though she might object, and that she would share in Aellope’s deep relief that they were each well and safe, reunited.
Now she feared that there too she had deluded herself.
“You were in terrible danger, cut off and isolated…. Worse, we could spare no forces to send to help you - after you left the enemy attacked once more; they targeted Grand Chasm with perfect timing, as though they had divined precisely the moment to strike. As though they knew all our movements before even we did.”
Arawn gripped her sister’s knee tighter.
“Chasm has fallen? They are in striking range of the Eyrie?!”
“No,” Ael answered quickly, “Chasm was saved by the reinforcements from the Eyrie, Captain Berenike and… Safkhet….”
She paused for a moment, struggling to find the words, to make herself speak them. She couldn’t bear to tell Arawn everything that had happened, how Safkhet had turned her back on her, how she had deceived her, perhaps even used her…. Ael still didn’t know herself what she should believe.
In the end she could say only what she knew was certain.
“Arawn… she… Safkhet died fighting for us. For the Harpy Empire.”
The Marshal simply stared, in dumb confusion, struggling to understand how the friendly, naïve human could even have been present for the surprise battle. It disturbed her too that the Aellope seemed so deeply distraught by the death of the newcomer, as though she had lost a dear friend, even a lover.
“Are you… sure she was killed?”
“Many eyes saw her end… she was overwhelmed by the enemy numbers and fell, into the chasm… terribly wounded….”
A small sob shook her green and blue plumage. She covered her mouth with a wingtip.
“She was a human, not even a citizen of our realm, yet she died a pointless death, fighting for our empire.”
Arawn’s crimson flight feathers ruffled in alarm at those words, so unlike her sister.
“If what you’re saying is true then we owe her a great debt. We will all mourn her.”
She spoke carefully, fearful of what still lingered unsaid between them, but she couldn’t flit around it any longer.
“But… I don’t understand how that brought you here, especially alone. Even if we were in an enemy trap, where are the wings of Valkyries? Why… how could you come in person? You should be protecting the Eyrie and leading the Empire! You’re the Empress, not a general!”
The words were like a slap in the face to Aellope.
Exhaustion already weighed heavy on her mind and body, but she had told herself, had believed with certainty, that whatever happened, all would be well if only she could reach Arawn in time.
Now, after her reckless, headlong flight, and days of battle through the enemy and Underworld, it felt as though Arawn too had betrayed her.
Just as Safkhet had done.
That thought was too much to bear.
“Don’t you see, sister?” Ael answered at last, hands outstretched as though pleading not to have to say the words. “I couldn’t just sit there, listening to reports in perfect safety, doing nothing while your life was in danger!”
“Doing nothing…. You should have been ruling! No matter how you might want to shirk your duties, you’re the Empress, you have more lives to protect than just mine! You have a responsibility to protect the Empire itself, for the sake of all of us! Just like mother did!”
For all her control and gravitas, cultivated over the decades of her reign, Ael found herself fighting back tears at her sister’s recriminations.
She wanted to scream, to shout and cry and demand to know how her sister could be so cruel, how she could speak of their mothers when, but for the difference of a few moments, Aellope could have lost her forever, just as they lost their broodmother….
But she knew her sister too well, from many years of argument and reconciliation – she would never reach the hard-headed warrior that way.
She had to make Arawn understand, understand why she left and why they’d been looking at everything the wrong way, all this time. Even weary and aching as she was, hurt and muddled inside, she needed to know that at least one person, at least her little sister was with her.
“The Empire… the Harpy Empire. We grant no voice to any but we harpies, no power, no prosperity for any but the chosen caste, the nobility. We tell ourselves that it protects all peoples of the Cyclopean Bones, that it is for the sake of all that we the line of the Stormqueens rule it. That it is right and just for the weaker, lesser species to submit to our dominion….”
“But Aellope, you’ve spent your life living for the people – as have I!”
“If we truly live for the people, for all the people, then why do only our kind, only the Harpies attend my court? Where are the Ogres, or the Naga? The Dryads and Naiads? The Beastfolk? We tell ourselves we rule in their own best interests, yet do we even know what those interests are? What Ogre voices speak out to advice us? When the Naga rose up in rebellion where lay their interests then?! When mother-”
Ael stopped, cutting short her ranting words as she choked back another sob. When she spoke again she was quiet and composed once more.
“We have lost sight of what matters, Arawn. Sending you to Southtown was madness. Pride and zeal over the myth of our superiority.”
Arawn reeled, pulling back her hand, as dazed as if her Queen had struck her.
“What are you saying?! We can’t abandon our lands to the Pharyes invaders! Southtown is-”
“Southtown is gone! The people left with the first attack, and now even the buildings are no more than ruins. I didn’t send you to save anyone, I sent you to protect our power, our territory and control.”
“Of course you did, we have to protect the Empire!”
“The Empire is nothing! A mere idea we Harpies conceived of, a state we imagined to justify and secure our own supremacy. It is the lives of the people, all the peoples we claim to care for, which truly matter. I will not throw lives away for the sake of the state. Especially not your life.”
Ignoring the sick feeling that radiated out from the knot in her stomach, Arawn tried to respond calmly.
Her elder sister was impossibly stubborn – Aellope had never yet been swayed by force or shouting – but even so she couldn’t keep the outrage and dismay from her voice as she replied.
“If we don’t stop the invaders then who will defend us? The enemy doesn’t care about our politics, they mean to conquer the whole of the mountains and everyone who lives there!”
“Then let everyone unite against them. If we are fighting for the sake of all then let all come together to defend our homes. There are many warriors among the peoples of the mountains, but rather than seek their aid we have subjugated them, telling ourselves it was for their own good as well as ours. Well whose good did it serve when… when we sent the Valkyries to crush the Naga rebellion? When mother… lost her life.”
Arawn felt a mere fledgling again as her sister’s commanding features broke down into tears, smoky voice thick and cracking with grief. The sight brought the same old woe flooding back to Arawn too. Perhaps they had both tried too hard to forget it, for the pain felt as raw as the day their broodmother died.
This time Arawn maintained her calm, albeit with great effort.
They were Empress and Marshal now, and they no longer had the luxury of bending to their personal feelings.
“Aellope…. Why did you really leave the Eyrie?”
“To bring you home of course….”
“If that was what you wanted, why not gather more forces? Where are your guards? Where are the Valkyries?! Whatever you may think about the Empire, how can you… how can you be here, alone, when our people need you?!”
“But you needed me, sister. I barely reached you in time! If I had been any later you would have-”
“I would have done my duty to all Harpies, just as you should have! Our people believe in you, depend on you, yet you abandoned the capital in the middle of an invasion! You betrayed us all, and you betrayed the Goddess!”
Ael recoiled at the sudden flash of anger in her sister’s eyes, turned venomous with contempt which Arawn no longer cared to hide.
“Sister… The Eyrie is in no danger, and the games of the nobles and the petty affairs of court were of no importance when your life hung in the balance. You are too important.”
“The Empire hangs in the balance! The Empire is more important! Even if you question our rule, you have a responsibility to everyone who has worked for centuries to preserve what we have! You are the Stormqueen, chosen by the Goddess to lead our people! You have a duty to them before anything else, even family! Our mothers understood that, that was why flightmother sent broodmother to-”
“She sent her to die!” Ael thundered, hurt and shock turned in an instant to fury.
A moment later the anger dissolved into sorrow, as she spoke through tears she had promised herself she wouldn’t shed.
“She sent her to fight to the death, not for our people, but for our dominion over the other species!”
“No… no….”
Arawn shook her head, repeating the word, yet even to her it sounded more a plea than a declaration.
“Mother was… she was protecting us…. She died a hero, and example to all of us!”
“She died to protect the Empire! At the cost of the people it should have served!”
Arawn’s mouth fell open, jaw hanging limply as her mind reeled. The words were too much to hear, the thought a knife through her heart, yet Ael went on to twist the blade.
“If we were truly right then she would have had no need to raise our forces of Valkyries and put down rebellions by the Naga, no need to send our daughters and sisters and wives to kill our subjects and die on their blades!”
“But… but they were rebels… traitors abandoning their duty and raising arms! Flightmother had no choice but to send Broodmother to defend us against them!”
“No, don’t you see, sister? We never had to fight them at all. We should have talked to them. They wanted only what we harpies already had, the right to rule themselves. Why should it be their duty to serve us, any more than it should be your duty to die?!”
The Marshal could hardly believe what she was hearing, from Aellope of all people. Above all others, the Empress held the greatest reasonability to the Empire and its people, yet she was speaking of abandoning both! How could her sister have changed so much?!
She had to show her she was wrong, to make her understand what she was doing. It was a betrayal of everything that they both had lived for… everything their lineage had embodied… everything their mother had died for….
“It is… it is their duty because that is how the world is, sister! The strong must rule for the sake of all, including the weak! Who else will protect them? That role was given to us by the Goddess herself, and we have obeyed her will for eons!”
“Because we can wield our great power for the good of all?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
“But why must we dominate and subjugate the other species to do that? We should help because it is right, not because we are paid homage in return! And what has this to do with ruling? Our power gives us no special wisdom, nor tells us how best to serve our subjects – it only blinds and deafens us to their plight.”
“But we do not abuse our power! We govern in the best interests of everyone!”
“How do we know that, when only harpies have a voice at court and rule our roosts? The Naga did not believe we governed in their best interests! If they had, mother would still be alive!”
Arawn hated the tears that broke through her façade at those words, but there was too much at stake to give in to her weakness, and indulge her anguish.
“If we had given in to their demands it would have decimated the Empire! Give the Naga independence and then the Ogres will want it next, then all the rest. They would each lose the protection of the state, even as they tore out its very roots. Would you really let the Empire be destroyed?!”
“The Empire is just a system! It is the lives within which matter! The Goddess herself teaches that life is to be treasured and freedom to be held sacred!”
“That is why we built the Empire, to protect the people!”
“Which people do you think the Empire is protecting?! We’ve shed so much blood to prop it up, yet we tell ourselves it’s for the greater good. Whose good? Not ours! Not the naga and ogres who live as vassals under us!”
Ael shook her head, wings hanging low in shame.
“The Empire is meaningless if we must sacrifice its people to sustain it.”
Arawn’s head spun at the assault of emotion and alien ideas. It was treason that her sister spoke, a betrayal of her people and their goddess, yet… as much as everything she had learned rejected the idea, as much as it defied the values that were the foundation of the Empire…. She could not find an answer to deny Aellope’s words.
If they were true… then it would be treason not to act on them, not to upend the whole broken system of the Harpy state.
Yet that was madness.
Such an act was an affront to everything Arawn had spent her life fighting for.
“Sister… even if…. Even if you were right, what we face now isn’t rebellion, its invasion. Our captives have made clear that their people, the Pharyes, won’t stop this war until we surrender. They don’t just want their slice of our lands, they want it all!”
“Then all of us must fight them. All the peoples of the Cyclopean Bones, together. No more sacrifices, Arawn. I can’t… I will not lose you the way we lost broodmother….”
There was silence between the two at those words. Arawn stared over at her elder sister, her outline rippling as tears fell from their eyes.
She recalled the last time they had cried together, when their mother died.
Their hands found each other, holding on tight, just as once they had clung to each other and sobbed at the terrible news.
Ael, just a few years her elder, still half a child herself, had held her little sister tight, wrapped in her wings as their broodmother used to do.
“I promised that I would always protect you, Arawn.”
Aellope’s words were tender, her deep, melodic voice as soothing and comforting as it had been on that day, when her sister was the lone light and shelter amid the storm consuming her world.
Ael squeezed Arawn’s muscular hands in her elegant fingers.
“I broke that promise once, but this time I shall keep it, no matter the price.”
“But what will we do? About the invasion?”
The words were a mere whisper.
“I told you. No more sacrifices, little sister. Win or lose, we will face these Pharyes together, the combined forces of all the species who call this land home.”
Arawn still had no idea what to believe, what to think about Ael’s actions or her words, but for just that moment she let herself forget such things.
She couldn’t even tell who initiated their embrace, but as those familiar, powerful wings enveloped them both they held each other painfully tight, the dome of feathers a small shelter against the tumultuous world and all its tribulations.
Drops still rolled down both their faces, seeping into the plumage at their shoulders, yet despite that Arawn marveled – it was the first moment of ease she had felt in what seemed to her many months.