2 October 1622

I don't know where we'll be for All Saints' this year. I just hope we're traveling again on November seventh. I don't know if I can bring myself to teach that day. I can hardly bring myself to get out of bed that day, usually. Mostly it's that if I don't, my family will worry.

6 October 1622

Our last day in this town. We travel tomorrow. Sigmun looked at our plans, and we can't work out a way to be traveling on November seventh. I don't know how any of us are going to manage to do our work that day. I think of my baby every time I see a child in these towns, but most of all on that day.

I don't know…me, as who I am…I'm not sure if I ever wanted children, now. I thought I did before Luke was born, and it hurt when Dolora told me trying again might kill me, but now…I'm not sure. What is me, and what is what the world wants me to think? Do I want children? Did I ever? Do I believe I don't want children now so that I can reconcile myself with what I'm doing now, something I could never do if I had children? If Luke lived, would we be here? Would I regret it if we'd never left because of him? Would I know enough to regret?

I have too many questions with not enough answers.

11 October 1622

Today is Neolla's birthday. It doesn't mean much to anyone but us, but it's nice.

Things are going well in the new town. It's nice here. I've been speaking to a woman named Judith and she's quite brilliant. I think people who seem to be dull would be intelligent if ever given the chance to find out.

18 October 1622

I've been terrible about writing lately. I just keep forgetting with everything else that's going on. Writing and reading and hunting and translating…I always have something to do.

I haven't learned a new language in a while. It would be nice to do that again.

23 October 1622

This is the town we'll be in for All Saints'. It's Sunday, so there was a speech today. And I can tell my love wants to do something for me. He always wants to show me he loves me, rather than anything else, so he'll do things like make me one of my favorite foods or buy a book in town he knows I'll like.

I love him to death, but I don't think I'm so good at romantic gestures.

31 October 1622

All Saints' Eve today. We went to the festival in the village, and we danced with all the people we've met, and ate dinner with Fortune and her family, and it was…well, it will never be as fun as the festivals at home, before everything with Luke, but it was nice.

The food was delicious, and Sigmun and I went out into the woods for quite a long time.

1 November 1622

It was All Saints' Day today, and we went to the festival again. I think going to the festivals helps the people of any given village feel better about us being there, because it's clear that we're just like everyone else. We just want to be part of something bigger than ourselves, and sometimes we just want to dance together under the stars and feel happy.

7 November 1622

Today was the day. I…I didn't get out of bed. I woke up and Sigmun was still lying there, his arms around me, and that never happens. He's always up before me.

"Dianna, my love."

"I know," I said, holding him closer. "I know."

"I…I can't," he said quietly. "I can't, not today."

"Me neither," I said.

We were quiet for a long time, and then Dolora pushed open the tent flap. "My dears…"

I saw her sad eyes and couldn't help but cry. All I could think of was my baby boy and how much it hurt.

"Rest," she said, softly. "I'll get you some soup."

"I…we have to get up," I said.

"No, you don't," Dolora said. "Psiioniic and I will handle everything today. Rest."

So we lied there, and then sat there, talking some but mostly just sitting quietly and holding each other. He used to be so angry, but I think now he's not angry. Now he aches deep down inside in a different way.

18 December 1622

I can't believe I forgot to write for a whole month. I think, sometimes, the hurt overwhelms me in a way that makes me forget to write. Sometimes it overwhelms me such that I feel like I have to write, but sometimes I just forget.

We'll be in this village for Christmas and Boxing Day. I hope we'll be alright.

21 December 1622

Simonn had one of his nightmares last night. They've been getting worse, and more frequent. He has more details these days, too-he knows more of the terrible things that will happen to us. He tells me we're going to bleed. He tells me he hears me scream like I'm dying, and he hears me beg for something, but he doesn't know what.

I'm afraid. I don't trust the guards as far as I can throw them and I'm terrified of what might happen to me. It's going to hurt.

23 December 1622

We think we're going to have Christmas dinner with Rebecca and her husband, probably. She has enough to feed us, and I'll hunt of course. Lessons are going well. Rebecca's getting so good at writing, and Constance reads whole sentences. And his speeches are going well. I'm always happy to hear him talk.

25 December 1622

Merry Christmas! It was a lovely festival. No presents, of course, because we don't have the money, but we went to the festival and ate with Rebecca and Jeffrey. It was…very nice. It felt homey and safe in a way I haven't in a long time. It felt warm to be with my husband and my best friend and my real mother, eating Christmas dinner together.

27 December 1622

I can't believe it's 1623 in just a few days. I think for the new year I'll resolve to see this to the end, no matter what. No matter what it is in Simonn's dreams, no matter how much it hurts, I'm going to push through and keep going. I'll be alright.

30 December 1622

I just remembered something Hannah told me, back when Damara was born. I'm going to outlive Sigmun. I'm going to be older than he ever gets to be. What if the thing in Simonn's dreams is the thing that kills my love? I don't know…I don't know how I can manage to do anything if I can't be with them. If they're not there with me, I'm not sure I can fight back the melancholy. If I'm not with them, I can't help them through whatever happens.

How am I supposed to raise a daughter like Hannah says I will without them? I can't raise a little girl on my own. Sigmun was a better father than I a mother and I don't know how I can raise a daughter on my own.

31 December 1622

It's the last day of 1622.

"What are you doing for the new year?" my love asked last night.

"I'm going to see this through to the end," I said.

"Me too. And I'm going to be here for all of you."

"My love, I'm here for you too."

"I know. I love you."

"I love you too."

We talked for a while about nothing, and then he went to bed, and a few minutes later Simonn woke up.

"I-Di."

"It's late, Si."

"I know. I just-I had another dream."

"Yes?"

"It's soon. It's coming," he said. "It's this year. It's going to end this year."

"This year?"

He nodded, and my heart caught in my throat.

"I love you," I said. "You're my best friend and I love you."

"I love you too," he said.

It's coming. In less than twelve months, most of my family will be dead.

It hurt when Luke died, and it hurt when my mother hurt me, and it hurt in March in 1612, but I don't think I can imagine how much this will hurt.