Witch-Blood

by Ash Fitzsimmons

  I looked at Val in surprise, and he nodded. “When you’ve finished, you may eat,” he said, and a trio of pizzas appeared on the wooden table that had sprung from the ether. “Joey, if you’ve decided not to be stupid, you may have a head start.” Val shrugged and grinned. “He has an appetite, you know. I’d work quickly, were I you.”

  Somehow, despite being left with only half a pizza by the time I reassembled my arm, I managed not to kill anyone. That afternoon, Val decided to try a different track and produced a full-length mirror, which hovered motionless in the middle of the clearing. “Glamour,” he said, positioning me in front of the glass, “is innate. If you can do this—if you can understand this—then everything that comes after will fall into place.” He rested his hand on my shoulder, and I realized with a start that sometime in the last few months, I’d managed to catch him in height. Val wasn’t a large man, a few inches short of six feet, but he’d always had at least a hair on me. Standing beside him, I saw that I’d finally shot up a bit, even if I was still scrawny in comparison to his lean-muscled physique.

  “How does this work?” I asked, watching his face in the mirror.

  “Again, it’s all a matter of putting your will into action,” he replied, releasing me. “And this is far simpler than repairing a bone because you’re not actually changing anything—you’re creating an illusion. Give it a try.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, I considered my face and tried to think of what to change. My hair, always straight, had darkened to the color of dirty honey and grown unruly, perfect for a punk rocker but odd for me. A smattering of pimples of varying stages dotted my face, the product of stress and our general lack of bathing opportunities. I still had a fading black eye, earned the previous day when my shield collapsed, and a pair of fresh, healing scratches down my cheek from the morning’s lessons.

  “Eye color,” Val suggested, seeing my hesitation. “Start small.”

  I stood there like an idiot, trying to figure out exactly how I was supposed to do this, and then I felt Val at the back of my mind. He gently brushed through my thoughts before smiling to himself. “You’re overthinking it, Aiden. Feel it. Let it happen.”

  I began to ask him how, then stopped.

  There.

  It was waiting there, that potential. All I had to do was give it life, give it purpose, give it power from the magic flowing around me. Give it direction and nudge it…

  My eyes, which had always been dark brown like Titania’s, flickered green.

  “Good,” Val murmured. “Very good. Try something else.”

  I looked around and squinted, testing the limits of the illusion, but my reflection insisted that my eyes were green—Coileán’s eyes, I recognized, having wondered why they seemed simultaneously foreign and familiar. Our eyes were the same shape, then. I hadn’t managed to capture his look—my eyes still seemed sixteen, and maybe a little scared—but I’d definitely copied them from him.

  Well, as long as I was going that route…

  My hair darkened and shortened, then kinked into messy waves. My eyebrows darkened to match, and my cheeks shifted, the apples dropping as the zits smoothed away. The chin was still close, and the nose could maybe be a little broader at the tip, but his lips were definitely thinner than mine, and I molded them to match.

  “Taller,” said Val, momentarily breaking my concentration. “He’s slightly taller than me. Broaden your shoulders, thicken your chest and arms.”

  I followed his instructions, watching in fascination as my reflection shifted toward my brother’s. When I finished, the man staring back at me wasn’t Coileán, not quite, but he could have fooled a careless observer. I blinked and moved, and the stranger’s reflection moved in time with me, as if this had always been the face I’d seen in the mirror and my memory was playing tricks on me. “Did I do it right?” I asked Val, looking away from the mirror while my eyes tried to process what I’d been seeing.

  He began to nod, then paused. “Voice. Drop it a bit—you’re still using yours.”

  I concentrated, pretending puberty was just a bad memory. “Better?”

  “Much. Joey,” he said, beckoning for him to join us, “any thoughts?”

  Joey ambled over, looked me up and down, and nodded. “Not exactly the boss, but not bad for a first try. Are you keeping it together?”

  “Actually, yeah. It’s…I don’t know, it just holds,” I said, then pulled him in front of the mirror with me. “Okay, stand there, let me concentrate.”

  Joey was a little taller than Coileán—six feet, he’d once said—and I stretched and filled out to match what I was seeing beside me. His arms and legs were proportionally longer, too, his hands broader and callused, his nails short and dirty from the woods. I lightened my hair to sandy blond and lengthened it to my shoulders, then darkened my eyes back to brown, twisted my features, and pulled together a copy of Joey’s full beard. “Yeah?” I asked, trying to inflect a touch of his light Virginia drawl into my voice.

  He goggled for a moment, then began to laugh. “That’s creepy as hell, Aid.”

  “But is it close?”

  “Yeah. And that’s why it’s creepy.” He elbowed me in the arm, but my glamour held. “Okay, seriously,” he muttered, “can I have my face back now, please? That’s weirding me out.”

  Val stepped up behind us, threw his arms over our shoulders, and grinned as his reflection instantly morphed into another copy of Joey’s. “Ready for the next lesson?” he asked, letting the glamour fall just as quickly.

  “Sure,” I said, “just let me—”

  “No, keep it together,” Val interrupted, releasing us as Russell and Dan appeared across the clearing. “Glamour, shield…and try for an offensive this time, hmm? Nothing fatal, just painful.” The mirror vanished, and Val pulled Joey out of the way. “Go ahead, make it work.”

  And to my surprise, I did.

  After dinner that evening, with Val supervising and Lailu standing by as our translator, I plopped cross-legged on the cave floor, and Kuni hobbled into my hand and sat with his back against my curled fingers. He stretched out his splinted leg and looked up at me, waiting. Due to their size, it usually wasn’t easy for me to read piq expressions, but there was no disguising the tension in his face.

  Carefully, I rested my fingertip on Kuni’s well-splinted leg and concentrated. After a few silent minutes, when I broke the clumsy enchantment, he removed his splint and let me help him to the ground and back to his feet. He tested his weight on the leg, bending his knee and even jumping, then tossed his crutches aside and beamed.

  “He says the pain is almost gone,” Lailu reported over Kuni’s rapid babbling. “And his leg feels strong again. He thanks you…profusely,” she added, chuckling as Kuni continued to talk and slap my thumb. “Honestly, I do not know if he can be still long enough for the wing, but if you’re willing to try…”

  “Hey, Kuni,” I said, raising my voice over his, and he paused in his speech, thrown by the interruption. I pointed to the empty space over my left shoulder and raised my eyebrows, and he nodded vehemently, spun around, and braced himself against my leg. I looked to Val, who waved me on, and then I barely touched Kuni’s crumpled wing and tried to will it back into being the twin of its mate. Kuni whimpered as the enchantment began to work, but the wing started to unkink under my fingertips, straightening and re-growing as needed. About ten minutes and a gallon of nervous sweat later, it looked much like the whole one on the right. The color of the new bits was too faint for a perfect match, I thought, comparing them in the light of the white orb Val had tossed overhead, but structurally, the wing seemed sound. I broke the enchantment, wiped my damp palms against my jeans, and said to Lailu, “Ask him if that did the trick. It’s going to be a little soft for now—the leg, too—but is it close?”

  She relayed my message, and Kuni slowly twitched his left wing back and forth. When that didn’t result in agony, he sped up the tempo, then took a risk and leapt.

  I wasn�
��t expecting him to dart up and plant kisses all over my face, but I managed to hold still and not re-injure him with a swat. Lailu laughed in earnest, and Val patted my shoulder.

  “Enough for tonight,” he said, gently shooing Kuni back toward his waiting aunt. “That will do.”

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  Val awarded me only light praise over the next three days, but I could tell he was pleased. I had my temper better in hand, I’d successfully patched myself up a dozen times, and my shielding had improved—quite literally overnight. Like so many other techniques, shielding seemed to snap into place one morning, as if Val had finally found the right switch inside my head. The hardest part from that point on wasn’t forming a shield, but rather keeping a constant power flow running through it while executing offensive maneuvers. Successful combat was a juggling act, and if I let any of the balls drop…well, at least I got more practice repairing compound fractures.

  I was feeling better about my performance when I crawled into my sleeping bag on the third evening. I’d even made myself a proper mat to pad it after dinner, and once Val saw that I was showing a bit of confidence, he’d demonstrated how to spontaneously clean things—including, he insisted, myself. Days of fleeing, hiding, and training had undone all of Astrid’s cleansing work, and it was a relief to get the grime out of my skin and the bloodstains out of my clothing. That night, my bag smelled faintly of lavender and was finally free from its patina of dirt, and I stretched my mending muscles out to rest.

  But my sleep was light and troubled, and I woke in the darkness with a feeling of foreboding. Lying on my side, I glanced around our corner of the cave for the source of my disquietude for a moment before I heard the realm in my mind and knew what was bothering me.

  Time grows short, Faerie insisted.

  Before I could press her for details, I spotted Lailu’s soft purple glow as she descended toward us and landed on the edge of Val’s cot. To my surprise, he was already awake and sitting up. “You, too, my lady?” he murmured, taking her in his hand.

  If I strained, I could just make out Lailu’s words. “She says the time has come. You cannot stay any longer.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “He waits for you. You have been gone for days and days,” she said, balancing even as Val’s hand twitched.

  “Only fifteen,” he protested. “I told him I would be thorough in my search—”

  “The Lady says he grows fearful. Paranoid. You must return.”

  Val sighed through his teeth. “The boy’s not ready. I can’t leave him, not like this. He’s only begun his training.”

  “I understand,” she said quietly, “but if Oberon seeks you out…”

  She left the rest unspoken, and Val’s cot creaked as he stood. “Did she give any sense of the time remaining?”

  “She did not, but she fears he may begin the search in the morning. He is weakened, she tells me. Afraid.”

  “Then Coileán is still fighting.”

  I closed my eyes, but I felt it when Val padded past Joey’s bag on bare feet and stood over me. “He’s not ready,” he repeated. “Eager and improving quickly, but he’s not ready for Oberon.”

  “And how many days would it take to make him ready?” Lailu replied. “Days and days? Days and days and days?”

  “Honestly?” Val muttered. “Lifetimes. But I suppose we’re out of options.” He stepped away, crossing back toward his bed. “I need a little rest, my lady. If you would, send a messenger well before dawn. I’ll take my leave of you at daybreak.”

  When I was sure that Val was asleep again, I turned over and stared at the ceiling, watching the piq come and go overhead. He was right—there was no question about that. Certainly, I’d improved, but two weeks of experimentation, even with the extra power the realm had bequeathed, could hardly prepare me to take on the last of the Three.

  But I wouldn’t be alone, would I? Val was weaker but skilled, and Joey had plenty of nails left in his ammo kit.

  If Val was going back already, though, how were we going to get to Oberon? Fight our way in? Surely his guards knew what they were doing, so Joey and I would have to mow through them just to get to the target.

  Unless…

  I reached around in my mind until I felt the presence of the realm. “Will you do something for me?” I whispered.

  She hesitated. Perhaps. What would you have me do?

  “Do you know Astrid? Coileán’s cook?”

  I do.

  “Would you ask her to meet me in the orchard tomorrow after sundown?”

  If you like. How do you plan to cross the distance, child?

  “Don’t you think it’s about time I figured out how these gates work?”

  There was a smile in her reply. I’m sure there’s no reason for Oberon to know of this.

  As could have been predicted, Joey was less than psyched about the new wrinkle when Val woke us in the wee hours of the morning. “So what are we going to do?” he asked, pacing in his newly laundered boxers. “I can’t train Aiden. Are you going to send us back to Toula or something?”

  “No,” I interrupted, cutting Val off as his mouth opened. “We’re not leaving again. Go back to Oberon,” I told Val. “The realm and I have an understanding. I won’t be long behind you.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Aiden, you’ll forgive me for saying this, but—”

  “But I’m not ready. I know.” I shrugged. “Coileán is.”

  “And Coileán is still bound. Unless the realm has yet to share something…”

  “Oh no, he’s still bound.” I cocked my head and grinned. “So what would happen if he just waltzed into the palace?”

  Val’s eyes widened at the shared thought. “If you held the glamour together and were quick…you don’t have his precision, but—”

  “But you’ve got the raw juice,” Joey cut in, seeing where this was going. “Make it fast and messy. And if I start shooting, it would give you cover.”

  Val drummed his fingers against his bare arm. “We haven’t practiced shielding others,” he said. “Conceivably, you could protect yourself and Joey, but with glamour added in, plus an attack…” He grimaced. “Risky at best. You’re almost certainly going to overextend yourself.”

  “True,” I said. “So I thought I’d bring in some reinforcements.”

  “What reinforcements?” He looked around the cave and spread his hands. “Unless you want to drag our sisters into this, I don’t have people to offer you.”

  I glanced at Joey’s questioning eyes, then nodded to Val. “Leave it to me. The less you know, the better.”

  “Aiden…”

  “Captain?”

  His mouth tightened, but after a moment, Val huffed his exasperation. “As you like, my lord,” he murmured. “Try not to get killed.”

  Just as he’d promised Lailu, Val stepped into the forest at sunrise and opened a gate to the palace’s gardens, taking care to angle it so as not to reveal any trace of the piq settlement. Joey and I stood behind the gate, and after a brief hesitation, Val slipped through and closed the rip behind him.

  Once we were alone, Joey asked, “And the plan would be?”

  “We wait for nightfall,” I replied, heading back toward the cave. “And we go armed. Let’s sleep today,” I said, parting the bushes for what I hoped was the last time. “One way or another, this ends tonight.”

  I stepped onto the first ledge, and Joey turned to climb down after me. “So who were you planning on asking to be our backup?”

  When he reached the floor, I lowered my voice and smiled. “Astrid was willing to sneak us into the palace. Surely she’s not the only person in there who’s still loyal to Coileán.”

  He mulled that over. “You think they’ll fall in line once we’re on the scene?”

  “I think Oberon’s got a palace with dissenters in the ranks, and he’s got a dungeon full of pissed-off faeries. See where I’m going?”

  “Yeah,” he said, strokin
g his beard, “I can see the potential there. But if they leave us hanging?”

  I shrugged and headed for my sleeping bag. “Then let’s hope I’ve learned something and you don’t run out of ammo.”

  As twilight stretched the trees’ long shadows into the spreading night, Lailu, Kuni, and a few of her guards gathered with Joey and me in the clearing to see if I could improvise. We’d left our gear safely underground—all, that is, but our weapons—and while I wore only a semi-useful sword at my hip, Joey looked like he was ready for a melee. Though Joey’s good armor was still in the barn, Val had made him a custom holster for his nail gun, which he wore at his right side for quick access. He’d slung the arming sword on his back, also in reach of his right hand. Around his waist and down his left leg, he’d strapped on every small blade the two of us had carried into Faerie, and an oversized fanny pack held the rest of his ammunition. I didn’t know the weight of the gear he was sporting, but suffice it to say that Joey wasn’t getting past a metal detector.

  I sincerely hoped I wasn’t about to embarrass myself. Otherwise, we had another forty-mile hike ahead of us, and I was going to miss my appointment—and if I couldn’t reach Astrid, the plan would fall apart.

  As the nearby frogs struck up their nightly chorus, I wished Lailu and her retinue would leave me to my work. They had only come out to give us a proper send-off, I knew, but having an audience wasn’t doing anything to help my self-confidence.

  “Breathe, bud,” Joey muttered beside me, and I flashed him a brief smile before turning to the task I’d set for myself.

  I wasn’t trying to go between realms—just within Faerie. I could do this.

  Surely the realm would have mentioned something if I couldn’t, right?

  Raising my hand, I spread my fingers and imagined a door pressing against them. When I could almost feel the wood grain beneath my fingertips, I visualized the door morphing into a painted paper screen, and then into gauzy curtains. The skin of the world began to yield as I built the necessary enchantment, and I pictured the orchard on the other side of the curtains, no farther away than the back side of a thin wall. Suddenly, I felt the enchantment click into place, and with a surge of magic, a gate ripped open in the middle of the clearing.