The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  “I only have one thing more to ask of you, William,” she said. “Bring me his body if you have it.”

  “What do you want it for?” he asked suspiciously.

  His grandmother laughed. “Nothing malign. I only wish to say my farewells, to bury him in the place where we first met.”

  It seemed fitting, but though it went against his human decency, he asked, “What will you give me in exchange?”

  Aislinn smiled. “He would be proud of you. What do you wish?”

  “My mother and cousin are living in his house, but there are soldiers from Darrow in the village. Can you protect them?”

  “I will not go near the house,” said his grandmother. “The creature that owns it and the land it sits upon is not kindly disposed toward the fae, but I can ensure that no enemy finds it. Will that suffice?”

  She’s afraid of the goddamn cat? thought Will. How can that be? “That will be good enough,” he told her. “Do you know what the cat is?”

  “It is a cat, of the worst kind,” she answered. “It is not my place to speak of it.”

  Chapter 29

  The sky was beginning to lighten when Will returned to the old shack. His grandfather’s body was still on the porch, but as he started to drag it away a thought occurred to him. Going inside, he returned to the bedroom and opened the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and removed Aislinn’s pillow.

  “William?” It was his mother. She lifted her head groggily. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll explain at breakfast. I’m going to cook something nice,” he told her. “Go back to sleep. It isn’t even dawn yet.”

  Erisa’s head flopped back down and she closed her eyes. “That’s nice,” she mumbled.

  Outside again, he tucked the pillow under one arm and lifted Arrogan by his shoulders so he could drag him into the forest. His grandfather felt heavier than he had the day before, and he was grateful when Aislinn and Tailtiu appeared after he had gone only a hundred yards. Aislinn’s expression was unreadable as she stared down on the man who had once been her husband, then she noticed the pillow under Will’s arm.

  “Is that…”

  He handed the embroidered pillow to her. “I think you should have this. He wouldn’t let anyone else use it.”

  The fae woman accepted it so carefully it seemed as though she feared it would fall apart at a touch. “I can’t believe it still exists,” she muttered. “It should have rotted away by now.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. Whether Arrogan had used magic to preserve it he had no way of knowing. “The needlework is very fine. You must have put a lot of time into it.”

  She shook her head. “You’re mistaken. This was his present to me.”

  His jaw dropped. “Grandfather made it?” He struggled to reconcile the lace and fine embroidery with his memory of the cranky old man.

  “He was a tailor’s apprentice when I found him,” said Aislinn softly.

  Feeling awkward, Will didn’t know what to say, so he stood silently for a while. Looking down on his grandfather’s bundled form, he made a quiet goodbye. I hope this is what you’d have wanted. Eventually he nodded to them and began to turn away. “I should go.”

  “Wait,” said Aislinn firmly. “There has been no payment for this.” She lifted the pillow in her hands.

  “It’s a gift,” said Will.

  “Then I must give you a gift in return,” she replied. “Hold out your hand.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not how gifts work.”

  Tailtiu spoke for the first time in almost an hour. “The nature of our existence requires it.”

  Aislinn took his hand and held it up, placing the palm of her own right hand beside it. Another limnthal appeared in the air above her skin. “Call your mark forth, William, so I can make the exchange.”

  He did, and a second later he felt something pass between the two spells, as though some energy had transferred from one to the other. “What did you do?”

  “You returned his first gift to me, so I have given you the second gift that he gave me,” she answered. “You may find it useful someday.”

  Curious and frustrated, he asked again, “But what is it?”

  “A small thing,” said his grandmother. “Once you learn to use your magic, you’ll understand.”

  His jaw clenched. “But I’ll never learn. I don’t have a teacher.”

  Aislinn laughed, long and hard, as though he had said the most humorous thing she had ever heard. “The limnthal you bear is the first to have been granted since Valmon received his over four hundred years ago. You will live a very long life, William Cartwright, if you can keep from getting killed. You will have many teachers, and before your fate is done you will change the world.” Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead before he could react. Unlike before, when Tailtiu had kissed him, he didn’t grow weak. Instead he felt a faint tingling on his skin. “This is my blessing, invisible to most, but the fae will recognize it. If you deal with others of my kind it may save you from a foolish bargain.”

  Turning away, she gestured at Arrogan’s body, and a spell ran from her fingers to touch his cold flesh. The body floated up from the ground and followed her as she and her daughter retreated deeper into the forest. Will watched them go, rubbing at his forehead, which itched strangely. He didn’t know what to think of what had happened, so after a few moments, he turned back toward the shack that was now his only home.

  ***

  “This is incredible,” said Sammy, shoving her mouth full of egg toast. “How did you make it taste like this? Even Momma’s isn’t this…” Her voice stopped suddenly, and her face wrinkled as she fought back tears.

  Erisa started talking, keeping her voice even. “Will’s teacher was a very good cook. I learned a lot when I stayed with him before Will was born, even though he didn’t let me cook very often.”

  That struck Will as odd, since he had been forced to cook the majority of the time. “Why didn’t he let you cook more?”

  His mother scrunched up her face. “He said I’d poison my unborn child, among other things, most of which are too rude to say in front of Samantha.”

  That made them laugh, a laugh that grew louder than it needed to be. Will stopped himself as he felt his emotions begin to swing out of control. “I always thought you were a great cook, Mom, until the old man let me try his food.” He tried to laugh again, but his eyes were already wet.

  None of them could speak for a while after that. Will began sniffling, and soon Sammy was sobbing. The food grew cold before they finished consoling one another. When they finally regained their composure, Will spoke up, “I have to tell you something about last night.”

  “Did you go somewhere?” asked Erisa. “I remember you getting up very early.”

  “I took Grandfather’s body away,” said Will.

  Sammy’s eyes went wide. “Did you bury it by yourself?”

  It occurred to him that telling her that would be a far easier explanation, but he knew his mother would never believe it. Even with a shovel, burying a body would take much more work than he could have accomplished by himself in such a short time. “I gave it to his next of kin.”

  Erisa looked confused. “Who?”

  “His wife and daughter visited last night.”

  “Aislinn is alive?” said his mother in amazement. “I suppose if she was like him, I should have known it was possible, but—” She stopped, changing her question, “Where has she been all this time?”

  “She isn’t like him,” corrected Will. “Neither is his daughter. They’re fae.”

  Sammy was watching both of them, trying to make sense of the conversation, then her eyes lit up. “Aislinn? His wife was the Goddess of Magic? Really? What about Elth—”

  Reacting quickly, Will snatched up the toast from her plate and shoved it into Sammy’s open mouth. “Don’t say his name. Both of them can hear you when you say their names.”

  His cousin bit off a large piec
e of toast and began chewing furiously before swallowing it down. “Was he really our great-great-grandfather? Does that mean we have god-blood in us?”

  He shook his head. “His wife was human once, but something happened to her before she had her last child.”

  Erisa added, “He really was your great-great-great-great-grandfather, though I don’t know how many ‘greats’ to put there.”

  “So he was fae too?” asked Sammy.

  “No,” said Will.

  “He was some kind of wizard,” said Erisa. “Different than the ones we have today. I think he knew some secret that gave him great longevity.”

  “How old was he?” exclaimed Sammy.

  Will’s mother shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I know he fought against Darrow in the Terabinian War for Independence. He was very bitter about it. I think he had a grudge against their prophet.”

  “Valmon,” put in Will. “The Prophet was his last student. He told me he killed him.”

  Erisa covered her mouth. “Did he say why?”

  “No. He rarely talked about his past,” said Will.

  “Wasn’t the War for Independence over four hundred years ago?” asked Sammy, her voice full of wonder.

  “A little more than that, I think,” corrected Erisa.

  Sammy’s eyes locked onto Will. “He was teaching you magic, wasn’t he?” Her mouth went wide, and she stuffed her fist into it before mumbling around it, “Are you going to be a sorcerer?”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Grandfather would have lost his mind if he heard you say that.”

  “He hated sorcerers,” explained Erisa.

  “And the fae,” added Will.

  “And deer,” said his mother, beginning to smirk.

  “And fools,” said Will.

  “Don’t forget the king,” said Erisa.

  “The nobility,” added Will.

  “And most people in general,” finished his mother, grinning. Then her face turned serious. “Except you, William. He pretended otherwise, but I could tell. He was very fond of you.” As quickly as that, their tears returned and the conversation ended.

  A while later, his mother decided to take an inventory of what was in the house, to see what they had and what they might need in the near future. Will took the opportunity to make an excuse. “It’s cold and getting colder. I’ll need to bring in some more firewood,” he lied. His mother hadn’t yet seen the large supply of wood that was already laid in on one side of the house.

  “Don’t go near the village, William,” cautioned his mother.

  He nodded. “I know, Mom.” Stepping outside, he gathered his staff and set off in a direction that would take him away from Barrowden, but once he was out of sight he circled around. He needed to find out what else had happened.

  Chapter 30

  Will knew his decision to return to the village was dangerous at best, but he knew the area well and he was confident in his ability to sneak close without being seen. The thing he most wanted to know was whether the enemy soldiers had moved on after destroying Barrowden, or whether they still remained. If they were gone, there might be a lot they could salvage. I’ll be careful, he told himself. Mom will just have to forgive me.

  To avoid detection, he stayed away from the road, approaching the town from the north, where the forest was closest and the terrain the most difficult. He moved slowly, pausing for longer and longer periods the closer he got to ensure there were no lookouts that might spot him, but even so he nearly gave himself away.

  He was less than a hundred yards from the northern edge of town, where the trees began to grow more sparsely, and he could already tell that Barrowden was still occupied. The collapsed building still smoldered, giving off smoke, but on the eastern end of town he could see tents and banners in the open field that the road passed through. The town itself seemed empty, though.

  He had been getting increasingly more anxious the closer he got, though he couldn’t put his finger on precisely why. His nervousness made him wait even longer before moving, though. He remembered what his grandfather had done with the illusory trees, so he examined the area before him carefully, in case the enemy had used similar magic.

  There was no sign of magic, but something still felt wrong. He had almost convinced himself he was being overcautious when he realized what was bothering him, and he studied the terrain again. There was nothing unusual to be seen with what he considered his ‘normal’ sight, but the faint flows of turyn that he had grown used to seeing since his journey to the fae realm were different. It wasn’t deliberate magic; that would’ve been much more obvious.

  Sentries, he decided. In several places, the streamers of turyn were moving strangely, as though disturbed by something, like water flowing around a rock in a stream. It was something he had gotten used to seeing around his cousin, his mother, even Arrogan. Humans, like other living things, possessed their own turyn, but it was strongly bound to their bodies, causing the ambient turyn to be displaced near them. Trees and plants did the same thing, of course, but with animals the effect was more pronounced.

  There were two trees and a large rock that all displayed an unusual displacement of turyn, as though someone was hidden behind them. It wasn’t magic. The soldiers of Darrow were simply very good at hiding, much better than his childhood playmates had been. And I almost walked right into them.

  So much for getting closer. Will settled down to watch. After a few minutes he noticed something that should have come to his attention sooner—the sound of axes. He had been overly distracted watching a group of soldiers digging a mass grave, but on the other side of town they were felling trees. They’re planning to settle in for the winter.

  Idiots, observed his internal voice, sounding much like his grandfather. If they were planning to dig in, they should have left the buildings intact. He waited another quarter of an hour and then began to carefully ease away. His mother was probably in a panic by now.

  As he made the difficult trek back, he felt his conviction begin to firm up. Something had to be done; otherwise his remaining family and friends would never be able to go home. It would take an army to drive them out, and he was beginning to see the conscription crew that had come to his village before in a different light.

  ***

  “William Cartwright! Are you trying to drive me to an early death?”

  They were standing in the dirt yard in front of the house. He had expected his mother to yell, but seeing the stark fear in her face made him feel incredibly guilty.

  “If you’re going to keep doing things like this, I’d just as soon kill you myself and get it over with! Do you have any idea the kind of things that went through my mind when we realized you had run off? They could have killed you! Worse, they could have tortured you to find out where we were hiding and then come to kill us as well. What would happen to Sammy if they found us here? Did that ever occur to you?”

  Will’s head was down, and he kept his eyes on the ground. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I had to find out what was happening.”

  Staring at her shadow, he saw her arm rise, as though she would strike him, but then his mother sat down suddenly, covering her face with her hands. “How strong do you think I am?” she asked, her voice breaking. “It’s hard enough just to survive without worrying about you constantly.”

  “I’m sorry,” he began again, but Sammy interrupted, putting her hand on Erisa’s arm.

  “It’s all right, Auntie. He came back safe,” said his cousin.

  Realizing her outburst was upsetting her niece, Erisa wiped her face and stood up again. “What’s done is done. Since you risked your fool neck, you might as well tell us what you saw.”

  Will explained what he had done, leaving out the part where he had nearly walked into the sentries. “They’re burying the dead, but they’re also cutting trees. They’ve set up camp on the east side of town. I think they’re planning to spend the winter.”

  “I guess it’s about what we should have expe
cted,” said his mother.

  “Shouldn’t they keep going?” asked Sammy. “If they’re invading the kingdom, they shouldn’t stop here.”

  His mother shook her head. “Attacking this late in the year was a surprise in and of itself. Winter is just beginning, and the passes will be snowed under in a few weeks. They’re hoping that it’s too late for Lognion to assemble a force to drive them out. In the spring, the Patriarch’s army can cross and they’ll have a good place to begin a full campaign.”

  “But the king will stop them, right?” asked Sammy, her voice full of both hope and fear. “Dad’s in the army now. He won’t let them take Barrowden.”

  “I’m sure Lord Fulstrom would like to drive them out immediately,” said Erisa. “He’s gathered his men in Branscombe. But the Lord has to obey his king. King Lognion will probably want to concentrate his forces before he responds, and that means they aren’t likely to come until spring.”

  “What about us?” asked Will. “If they stay there all winter—”

  “We’ll have to get out,” said his mother. “While they’re fortifying the area, they’ll also be sending out groups to scour the forest and hills, looking for survivors, food, and anything they can use. Eventually they’ll find us.”

  “They won’t,” said Will firmly.

  “Why do you say that?” asked Erisa.

  “Aislinn promised me,” he answered. “She said she would make sure that no enemy found this place.”

  His mother sighed. “She’s fae. Do you believe her?”

  He nodded. “They can’t lie or break their bargains. They can twist the truth, but they can’t break their word.”

  “If it was a bargain, what did you give her?” asked his mother, worry written on her features.