by Anise Rae
She couldn’t promise that. She’d spin whatever tales were necessary to get this job done so she could get back to her sorceresses. Her anger at being forced to abandon them fueled her next words. “Have you been here the entire time?”
He pointed at the edge of Daegan’s ferry. “I’ve been sitting right there with my mage power wide open.” He pulled his lips in a tight, thoughtful frown. “To be honest, I thought you’d seen me. You looked right at me. And then when you stomped into the woods, I realized you hadn’t.”
He studied her, his gaze intense as if he saw something he’d never noticed before. She wanted to step back under his scrutiny, to hunch her shoulders as if she might protect her secrets.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, finally. The simple words rang with honesty.
“You’re lurking in the dark in complete silence. How could you not expect to scare me? My heart is still pounding.” But the answer to her question blew through her mind like a fluff of cotton fleeing its field.
He was broadcasting his mage power through the air. It waved in a calm flow. He wasn’t hiding a thing. She just hadn’t been paying attention.
“Right,” she whispered. She shoved on her spectacles and twirled her energy back inside her.
“You didn’t sense me at all.” The tight wrinkles in his forehead conveyed concern and a worry she didn’t want. “Which makes me wonder…do you know any defensive spells?” He was much too perceptive.
She lifted her chin. “They didn’t teach those at SWWM. But I have a weapon.” She patted her spindle.
He eyed her hip. “I see. What kind of sword is that?”
“A sharp one. With a poisoned tip.”
“A poisoned tip. Smart.” He nodded. Tiny vibes of his power drifted out, rustling against her. He focused on her sword. “It’s not a kill potion. Its vibes are too soft, and it doesn’t vibe with hate. A sleeping potion.” His tone dripped lower with those last words as if he disapproved. “It feels very old, that sword. For your sake, I hope whoever made it knew what they were doing.”
“You can tell that just from touching it with your vibes?” She squinted at him, unable to see him clearly against the shadows.
As if he’d read her mind, he cast a dozen mage lights with a gentle hum. They spread out, softly lighting up the area.
He moved to a large log laying on the bank. He sat down and patted the space beside him, offering her a seat. She looked into the trees, hoping for a glimpse of Daegan, but all was quiet and still. She sat next to him with an exhausted sigh and let her pack drop off her back. She draped the newly made scarf over the top of it and stretched her legs out next to his. Her yawn caught her by surprise.
“You could have slept for five hours while I drove us here,” he said. “Hell, we could have both slept and had the army fly us in.”
“Or Power United?”
His nose flared. “I don’t work for them. I don’t want to work for them. I’m turning down their job. That’s the truth. Can you sense a lie, firefly?”
“Don’t call me that.” But her voice was too soft to hold much of a challenge. She had to fight not to drop her head. The truth was she couldn’t do much with her mage sense except for her specialties and the basic spells of life.
He sighed hard as if he knew the answer to his question.
“Am I disappointing you?” she asked.
He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her with the slightest pressure. He leaned forward. Their gazes locked. The space between them felt like it crumpled, narrowing existence until it might have been just them. “Nothing about you is disappointing. Nothing.”
“Oh.” His closeness stole any other response.
He let her go. She swayed with the freedom, not expecting it, and having forgotten, even, that she should want it.
He pulled out his wallet and removed a card. “Here’s my calling card. On the off chance—the very off chance—that we get separated again.”
Wait. Her wallet. Her purse.
“Oh no.” Disaster trickled over her. She’d left it on the floorboard of her car. Snorting that stay awake packet had thrown her off. Now she had no money and no permit papers, the documents permitting a citizen mage to return from the Wild West, necessary if the bounder mages caught her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
A hundred curse words tumbled through her mind and morphed into the crooked prayer of the hopeless and cast-off. “Lost girls, spin me a rope,” she whispered. She had no time to return to her car and get it. There was only one option. She’d have to spin even more gold coins to pay for everything.
“The lost girls, eh? Does that prayer ever work?”
She glanced up, expecting a smirk. Few stooped so low as to plead to the banished lost girls instead of the beloved Goddess.
But there was no smirk, just curiosity.
“No.” Her voice was rough. “Better to spin your own rope and pull yourself up as best you can. That’s my philosophy.”
“That’s a lie, little witch.” Daegan’s whisper popped in her ear. “But let it be your truth.”
She jumped up to face him, her heart struggling to keep up with the disasters and frights. “What is it with everyone today?”
Gregor yanked her behind him. His shoulder brushed against her, and she felt the fearful shiver run through him. He was as afraid of fairies as she was of Power United.
“It’s all right, Gregor.” She slipped his calling card into her pocket and put her hand against his back. She stepped between him and Daegan. “He’s not going to hurt me.” She frowned at the other man. “And Daegan’s not going to hurt you either.”
But the glister’s eyes swirled with the dreaded silver of his power. In all the years she’d known him though, his power never made good on the promise.
“Are we really going to start out this way?” she asked.
“I told you to stop spinning the webs!” His shout hurt her ears, and she covered one with her hand.
“Back off, fairy,” Gregor ordered.
The swirl in the fairy’s eyes deepened as he turned to him.
This was getting out of hand. “Daegan, quit.” She held her hands out between them, palms down. “I have stopped spinning the webs. The High Councilor ordered me to, so it’s a moot point.” She spoke calmly. “My supply has been confiscated.”
Daegan snorted. “You should never have had any webs in the first place. And I know damn well you haven’t stopped spinning them.” He looked pointedly at the delicate white cloth resting on her pack. “Spin and lament,” he whispered, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Foolish girl.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Spin and lament? Are you the one who’s sending me the prophecies?” She yanked the crumpled note from her pocket and held it out. Her hand shook, anger, not fear.
He took it and smoothed it out. The hypnotic silver faded from his gaze. He read silently and then he flung the note into the river. “It wasn’t me.” His voice snapped. “But you’ve brought this on yourself. It didn’t have to be this way. If you’d left the spiders alone—”
“I couldn’t. A lot of people need that spider cloth. It can give them a fuller life.”
“And ruin yours.” His face turned red. “I didn’t want this for you!”
“Sweet of you.” She waited until his breathing evened out before she spoke again. “I don’t understand any of it…prophecies about mythical relics—a spinning wheel, that I haven’t seen, by the way, scissors—”
“And a needle,” Gregor stated, his powerful voice close to her ear. “And it exists. It’s not mythical.”
Daegan narrowed his eyes. “Oh, they exist. Monk boy is right about that. Luck made them. He charmed the wheel to spin tales to entertain his Lady while she spun her precious threads. The scissors endow anything they snip with the power to dance. And the needle sings, as your monk friend knows.
“Walk away from this, mi minliha,” Daegan whispered. “Walk away. The
West may or may not be destined to devour the mages’ land, but you will be its first victim if you keep on this path. Go home. Forget the webs. Ignore the Luck damned notes.” His eyes deepened with silver again. His hypnotic swirl pulled at her mind, but she flicked it away like a fly. “You do not want to cross the river, Mara,” he said.
Gregor yanked her back and thrust her behind him, his shoulders blocking her view. “Get your fucking trance off her!”
She put a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. His cold soaked through her, a startling difference from the heat of the already hot summer day. “I’ve known Daegan for years. I’ve argued with him for just as long. He pretends to try to catch me with his eyes, but he never gives it his all.”
“Your guard protects you, Mara.” Daegan’s tone turned light. “Gregor Whitman. Born in Standish Territory. Raised by the singing peace men of the Green Mountains. Now a man, who’s never had his own door, one who’s so scared of his reflection that he thinks to flee from his homeland and take up residence on a lonely western mountain.” He sneered. “Perhaps I misspoke when I called you a man. More like a sniveling boy. And not a very smart one at that.”
“Cut it out,” she said.
Across the water, the train whistle blew a warning. She grabbed her pack and slung it on her back, taking the lacy shawl in her hand. “All I need to know is if you’ll take us across.”
Daegan looked at her. “You’re not very smart either, Mara, obeying that bitch without a thought. Dumb fool.”
She flinched at the scorn in his voice. “What’s gotten into you?” She shook her head, knowing it was past time for plan B. She turned her back on him and looked up at Gregor, tugging on his hand. “I have to get across. I have almost a hundred employees depending on my return, and I will come through for them no matter what. You can come with me.”
He frowned. “How? There are no other options. You can’t swim across.” Then he refocused on Daegan. “How the hell did you know all that about me?”
Temporarily dismissed, she took it as a sign…because there was another option. And she was going to take it. As she came to her decision, she imagined stepping up to Gregor, rising up on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Just a simple brush to say goodbye and perhaps to say thanks for caring for her in the dungeon. But that was a slippery slope and her heart didn’t wear thick tread to catch itself.
She turned on her heel and headed toward the river, leaving the men behind her.
“I know everyone who crosses my river,” Daegan replied to Gregor.
The water lapped at the shore as if its gentle touch would console her. Its foaming edge reached out. She folded up the newly knitted shawl and tossed it into the air. “I need a ride, please,” she whispered to the water. “Safe passage in return for my gift.” That shawl could have been Stella’s salvation, but Mara would get more webs on her return trip.
The lace drifted for a moment, caught on a breeze, as the men behind her argued.
“If you cross the river today,” Daegan said, “all you’re doing is moving the pawns further onto the playing board.” His tone was cutting.
The lace touched the water and disappeared beneath in a flash.
“I’m afraid you have me at an advantage, fairy, because I don’t understand the rules of this game,” Gregor replied. “Clue me in and I’ll play, but you leave Mara alone.”
“Only if you plan to stick around to finish the game, witch boy. You’re no fun if you go off pouting with the tip of a mountain up your ass.”
Mara sucked in a breath at the insults, but she didn’t turn around to referee.
“You may not know this, but we don’t call ourselves witches.” Gregor’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“Then again, you’re probably not smart enough to play. You let your power be drained away by a glister relic,” Daegan continued. “Idiot.”
A river maiden stuck her head above the water. The white lacy shawl was draped over her head. It stood out in relief against her dark, wet hair. As Mara watched, the maiden’s pale face grew fuller. Her cheeks brightened.
That was fast. The webs were a marvel, though she shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly they helped a river maiden. After all, both the spiders and the maidens were of the glister. Their power was in sync.
The last time Mara had seen this creature her cheeks were hollow, her eyes bloodshot, and her hair stringy. The creature had stared at her from beneath the water as Daegan had ferried her across. The desperation in her eyes had pleaded for help.
At the time, Daegan had shrugged away Mara’s concern. “The king’s creatures suffer in his long absence.” He’d refused to say more.
Mara knew about suffering. Each of her clients suffered in some form or another due to mage energy. She’d gambled that the creature’s ills were similar and might share a cure.
The river maiden swam closer. A glint of light played just above her ear. She’d claimed Daegan’s gold coin, too.
A raft formed from the mist. It slid onto the bank, stopping an inch from her feet. “Gregor,” Mara called.
“What the hell are you doing? That’s a river maiden!”
“She’ll take us across.”
“No! It’s too dangerous!” His face drained of color. He held out his hand. “Come on. Move away from there.” He calmed his voice, like he’d decided he was talking to a crazy person and needed to negotiate her off the ledge before she jumped. He stepped toward her cautiously.
The train whistle blew again.
“I have to catch this train. Come with me.” With her pack on her back, she stepped aboard the worn planks. The boat surged away in an instant, so quick she should have stumbled, but its movement was smooth and easy as if the water was ice. “Wait,” she cried toward the head of the boat, but not even the shadow of the river maiden’s sleek body was visible beneath the water.
Twenty feet already separated her from the shore. Even she wasn’t bold enough to jump in this water and swim back to him. Gregor ran for her, but it was too late. “Tell it to turn around!” His voice bounced over the river, fading already.
Mara swallowed hard. This wasn’t quite what she’d intended.
She turned back to him one more time. He was looking at her, or so she guessed. She took off her specs and let her energy surge forth. He came into focus with her mage power. His face was tight, his eyes wide. Fury. Anguish. But mostly fear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered though there was no way he could hear her. “It will be all right. I am not afraid. Not of this.” The truth of her words spun strength into her bones, and she stood a little taller. “Please don’t be afraid for me.”
A tendril of his energy brushed against her and then disappeared. From the shore, he held out his hands as if he could grab her. She put her specs back on, wrapping her power down. Turning away, she looked ahead.
“Danger awaits in the West, Mara Rand!” Daegan’s voice shimmered over the water.
“It always does,” she whispered again. She didn’t have a choice but to face it. If the boat hadn’t been sturdy, she might have sunk beneath the weight of her responsibilities.
“Too many threats to defend against alone. Saliiy Sueytie a tuu,” he said softly. “May Luck shine upon you. You’re going to need it.”
11
Gregor spun to the fairy as Mara drifted away. “I paid your fee. Get your boat underway. I’m not letting her get away from me.” Within him, raging helplessness stormed, a thousand times worse than watching her spin cotton until her fingers bled. If it hadn’t been for a near-lifetime of training, he wouldn’t have known which way to turn under its force.
The next time he caught up with her—and he was damn well catching her— he was attaching them with a spell.
Daegan lunged for him. Gregor jumped back, a furious shout bursting from him. His mage power shot forth. But the fairy had been playing him. The fucker jerked to a stop short of touching him.
Gregor’s heart raced so fast he couldn’t hear
a break in the beats.
Daegan bent over laughing. “You’re afraid of me.” His chuckles rasped against Gregor’s nerves.
He experienced a new level of hate—dark and fathomless. Its chill froze his blood. He got ahold of it before it overtook him completely. But it was a near thing. He stared at the fairy’s chest, avoiding his eyes. “I’m going after her. Are you driving the boat or am I?” He walked backwards, unwilling to turn his back on the man.
“Tell me why you’re afraid and maybe I’ll take you.” Daegan stood relaxed and easy as if Mara wasn’t out there alone facing death. “I hope it’s a good story because the price of your passage is quite costly.”
“I already paid you.”
“Price just went up.”
“You people are all evil,” he snapped. That’s why he was afraid, and he had no problem admitting that. Evil was something to fear. He jumped on the boat. The craft didn’t even bob in the water from his quick move. Some type of fairy’s spell held it.
“Evil. Really. Met many of us?”
“Yes. The one who did this.” He pointed at his neck. “And another when I was sixteen and he peeled my mind open and held it for three days.”
“Three days! That’s a lie. An impossible lie,” Daegan shouted as if he were personally offended.
“I wish it were.” He jerked his chin toward the disappearing boat on the river. “Now hand over the keys to this piece of shit.” He eyed the ferry for a set of controls, not that he expected to find any. This thing would be powered by spells.
“No glister here today has the power to hold open a mage’s mind for three damn days. Also, it would be a very sick fuck who would even want to look at a mage’s mind for that long. You all are a tangle of insanity inside.”
“It wasn’t here today. It was about twenty years ago.”
Daegan shifted on his feet, something uneasy in the movement.
Gregor eyed the power surrounding the boat, his mage sense wide open. The fairy’s spells morphed into view. He blinked, surprised. That had never happened before. But maybe that was because he’d never really tried to see a fairy spell.
