Of Liars and Thieves

by Gabriela Lavarello

  “Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.”

  Her cheeks went pink and she dropped Tedric’s gaze like a hot coal, curtsying before she turned away. Finriel rolled her eyes at the warrior, who caught her gaze at the same moment and gave her a faint shrug. Finriel knew that he was the most respectable male she’d ever met, but that likely wouldn’t stop poor Lola from getting any ideas from their small exchange.

  “Now that you are all fed, you must tell me the reason for coming and saving us from those terrifying creatures,” the old woman insisted.

  Lorian glanced between Krete and Tedric questioningly. Tedric looked to him, and as if through a silent conversation in their minds, Krete and Tedric both shook their heads a fraction of an inch. Lorian noticed this small movement and his expression quickly molded into a withering smile as he turned to the woman.

  “I think the correct thing to say to our coming here is thank you.”

  Finriel silently groaned at Lorian’s words. Can he ever think of saying something that isn’t arrogant? The woman’s eyes widened and she smiled at him.

  “Why, of course, the entire village is certainly grateful for your heroic act,” she spluttered, and gestured toward the dirty window that looked out at the village. Finriel turned and looked out of the window to find people milling about once more, excited chatter and conversation muffled by the cottage’s thick walls. A group of villagers had congregated by the burned buildings, which had ceased smoking. Some pointed excitedly, while others held each other and shook with anguish. Finriel ripped her gaze away from the sight, her heart clenching at the destruction and sorrow just outside.

  “You are quite welcome,” Lorian replied smoothly, and bowed slightly in his chair. This time, Finriel actually did groan, overwhelming annoyance and embarrassment making her cheeks heat. The old woman simply looked at him, at a loss for words.

  “What caused the fires in your village?” Krete asked, his already high-pitched voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

  Finriel kept her eyes trained toward the street outside as Naret cleared her throat and said, “They came in the night, they did.”

  “The creatures we captured?” Tedric asked, and Finriel brought her attention to Naret, who closed her eyes as if in an attempt to remember a lost fable.

  “I could not be certain. It happened so quickly. They were like shadows in the night, silent and moving in a way I had not seen before. The brownies came at dawn, appearing to be searching for something, or perhaps someone.”

  “We were all so terrified of the fires that no one dared go outside.” Lola quivered from behind Finriel. “The brownies were banging on the doors when I woke, it was so loud.”

  Finriel considered for a moment. What Naret said sounded strange, but it had to have been the brownies who started the fires. She’d never heard of strange shadows creating fires before.

  “Is everyone in your village safe?” Krete asked, and Naret shook her head.

  “We were too slow,” she said softly. “Old Yerrow and his wife were taken by the fires. Everyone else escaped in time.”

  Krete’s face fell, and he looked down into his steaming mug. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  Silence filled the small space, and Finriel pondered what had been said. She needed to speak with her companions in private, and soon.

  “Are you lot on some sort of quest then?” Naret asked curiously, breaking the silence. “There has been an awful lot of hearsay of other strange creatures roaming about the realm ever since that storyteller lost his mind.”

  “We’re merely passing through, but are glad to help in any way we can to keep your village as safe as possible,” Krete answered kindly, the sad expression on his face changing into a wary smile.

  The old woman humphed in response and scrutinized the four of them. She did not believe them for one second. The woman was smart, Finriel had to give her that, but they simply could not risk the chance of anyone knowing their quest. It was bad enough that they had agreed to travel with Krete and Aeden.

  “Fine, don’t tell me.” The woman pursed her lips, and Finriel scowled at the sudden change in Naret’s tone.

  Naret surveyed Finriel’s male companions before looking at Tedric’s shoulder. Finriel’s breath caught at a small dark stain on his tunic that no doubt was blood. She knew he should not have grappled with the brownies, and she would not be fixing any more snapped bones thank you very much.

  “Are you injured, boy?” Naret asked.

  Tedric looked down at the bloom of scarlet on his arm and smiled, barely able to hide the evident pain on his face. “It’s nothing, I just had an accident not so long ago.”

  “Oh, please, you don’t have to keep secrets about being hurt. I have a tincture that will make that wound heal ten times faster than it is right now.”

  Finriel met Tedric’s questioning glance and shrugged. She didn’t care if he wanted to take the tincture, as long as it wasn’t poison. She refused to have expended that much magic to mend his arm just for him to be killed by a frail old woman.

  “I’ll go fetch it. It’s just in the other room,” the woman said quickly, taking Tedric’s silence as an acceptance of her offer.

  As soon as the old woman disappeared behind the small door, Lorian leaned forward to speak to Krete. Finriel strained her ears to hear what they were saying as they conversed in hushed tones.

  “It was as if they were waiting for her,” Lorian whispered. “Like they knew she was going to be there and they wanted to protect her from something, or someone.”

  Krete nodded slowly in agreement and began to speak, but the girl, Lola, returned through the small door at the back of the cottage and walked toward Finriel. Lola helped Finriel with the cleaning and smiled as they began to scrub at the bowls they had just eaten from.

  “Here it is,” the woman grunted, and she sat down heavily in the vacant chair. Lorian and Krete stopped conversing at once and both leaned back in their chairs bearing pleasant smiles. Tedric’s face was slightly strained with pain, but he nodded in thanks and took the small vial from her outstretched hand.

  “Place a single drop of this tincture on any wound internal or external and it will be cured within minutes.”

  “You are very kind, but I do not think my wound is so bad at the moment,” he answered, and made to hand it back to the old woman. She lifted her hands in the air as if pushing the vial away from herself and smiled at Tedric.

  “Please, you have done enough to help this village for me to give you ten more bottles of this medicine and a life supply of soup. Please, keep it.”

  “What is this medicine made out of exactly?” Finriel asked, allowing for a glimmer of her anger to shine through.

  The woman examined Finriel, and her expression hardened from the warmth and kindness she’d been showing mere seconds ago.

  “It’s a compound of the ferendi flower and water from Nocturn Lake. If you fear that the ferendi flower is one that is used to kill, you would be right.”

  Finriel bristled, and had to hold herself back from lunging forward and pouring the draught down the woman’s throat.

  The old woman seemed to notice Finriel’s strain and chuckled. She raised a gnarled hand as if to wave the tension from the air, and then continued, “It has such strong medicinal purposes that it can be used to both heal and kill. The mixture of this flower’s essence with Nocturn Lake’s waters is a very powerful medicine that is sought out by many. Do not think that I am trying to poison you and your friends, girl. I could have done it a long while ago.”

  “And why isn’t this tincture more well known if it works so well?” Finriel countered quickly.

  The old woman simply looked at Lorian and shook her head. “Does she always argue like this?”

  Lorian hid a smile as he looked at the woman and shrugged. Finriel turned back to the dishes before her, clenching her jaw. Tedric was foolish in accepting such a strange gift, especially one that she had never even heard of in her four years
of healing practice.

  “That man fancies you,” Lola began shyly, and Finriel stumbled out of her angered thoughts to find that Lola was looking toward the table. Finriel turned her head to see who she was looking at, and forced down an irritated laugh as her eye caught who the girl was speaking about. It was Lorian. He seemed to notice their attention and looked up from the steaming mug in his hands. He held her gaze without fear, his high cheekbones smeared with dust from their scuffle with the brownies earlier. Finriel quickly turned her attention back and scrubbed at the simple wooden bowl in her hands with more strength than was needed.

  “I don’t think so,” Finriel snorted.

  Lola looked back at her own hands and giggled softly. The sound irritated Finriel more, and she suddenly didn’t care to help the girl at all. Lola could do all of the work herself as far as she cared.

  “You may not see it, but he does,” Lola answered sweetly, her shoulder bumping softly into Finriel’s. “I’ve seen the way that he always has an eye on you ever since you came inside. He looks protective, or worried perhaps.”

  Finriel stiffened and forced herself not to lash out and burn the girl to a crisp right there and then. At least it would make this agonizing conversation go away much sooner than she feared it would.

  “Well,” Finriel began, trying to keep her voice as kind as possible, “even if he did fancy me, I fear any advances that he would try to make toward me would be in vain.”

  “Why is that?”

  Finriel grimaced, not wanting to respond. Telling this girl of Lorian’s and her past was one of the last things she wanted to do at the moment, or any moment, for that matter. The air suddenly felt restrictive, as if she couldn’t take in enough air. Finriel clenched her fists, dropping her bowl into the washbasin with a clunk. The image of blue eyes and Lorian disappearing through the trees flashed through her mind, and Finriel took in a rattling breath.

  “Thank you for the meal,” Finriel said, her vision swimming and her breath suddenly feeling stuck in her chest.

  Finriel turned and barged through shoddy wooden door, barely saying a brief thank you to the old woman and the young girl before she let it slam behind her. The streets were now bustling with the villagers who had been hiding, and soot swirled through the breeze as they took apart what remained of the burned homes. Their loud chatter about what Finriel and her companions had just done with the brownies rang through the air and clanged between her ears. She bowed her head and took off at a run toward the tree line that Aeden had disappeared into. She needed to get away from this decrepit village, now.

  The air felt crisp and fresh against Finriel’s face as she ran, and she took in a deep breath of relief when the shade of a lone oak tree brushed over her. The tightness in her chest lightened slightly as she slowed to a walk and continued down the road, almost at the thicket of trees that stood before the magical kingdom border wall. The faint sound of footsteps echoed in Finriel’s ears, and she looked over to find Lorian following her. Finriel quickened her pace, but the sound of boots coming after her drew nearer still.

  * * *

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” Finriel snapped, and Lorian approached her with the ghost of a grin. Finriel was standing by a small outcropping of rock in the center of the wood, her eyes closed as she listened to the sound of the village mixed with the chirping of birds around her and from the elven kingdom border beyond.

  “I was just escorting your cat,” Lorian answered calmly, and indeed Nora padded up softly and growled in greeting as she sat next to Finriel. Nora rubbed her head affectionately against her leg, and she stroked the mogwa’s grey dappled fur. It was soft and clean, thankfully not crusted with blood and gore like it had been the recent times she had come back from hunting.

  “Nora doesn’t need to be escorted,” Finriel grumbled, still not turning to look at him. She had had enough talking and being nice for a long while. She yearned for some peace and quiet. It had been too long since Finriel had friends and was required to speak to people every day, but she could not say that she enjoyed it at all now that she had it.

  “I know,” he said simply.

  Aeden suddenly walked into view, looking fresh and clean. It seemed as if she’d just bathed, not rolled around in the dust, scratched and then worshipped by a group of brownies. Her long violet hair was back in its usual braid, water dripping from the ends and cascading down her cloak. Her eyes flashed as she glanced between Finriel and Lorian.

  “I see you two finally made it out of the old woman’s claws,’’ Aeden commented. Finriel snorted and nodded in answer, continuing to stroke Nora’s back. The mogwa was now purring loudly, the sound halfway between a growl and a low groan.

  “You should be glad you left so quickly and were able to avoid it,” Lorian snorted. “Krete and Tedric are still trying to leave without the old woman taking offense.”

  Aeden smiled and tossed her clean braid behind her back and took a few steps toward them. “I know the people of these lands well enough not to enter their homes when they offer it, even if they are only offering food. Most times they end up wanting to know exactly who you are and what your business is so that they can go off and sell it to someone else.”

  “That sounds about right,” Finriel agreed, and pushed away from the rock. She looked down upon her cloak and pants, noticing how dusty and unkempt she must appear compared to the ethereal fairy standing a few feet from her.

  “Where did you bathe?” Finriel asked, not caring that she had changed the subject so abruptly.

  Aeden gestured toward the place from which she had emerged. “There is a small pond of fresh water a few paces back. If you’re quick, you can clean up before Krete and Tedric get here.”

  “Thank you,” Finriel replied, and began to head in that direction. Lorian started behind her, and she swirled around. She let a small flame light on her fingertips as she looked at him with her eyebrows raised. He stopped at once and returned the expression, though Aeden’s face paled slightly at the appearance of Finriel’s flame.

  “What are you going to do, light my breeches on fire?” Lorian asked with a mischievous grin.

  “You can wait your turn,” Finriel said haughtily, ignoring his comment.

  Lorian raised his hands in surrender and backed away. Finriel let the fire dancing around her fingers extinguish and started back toward the pond that Aeden had spoken of. Nora stood and trotted over to walk with her.

  The trees were thick, but soon enough opened into a clearing where a crystalline pond about the length and width of a large food cart glinted in the sunlight. Soft grass sprang about Finriel’s booted feet as she and Nora walked to the edge of the water.

  Finriel looked around to ensure that Lorian hadn’t changed his mind and was coming to join her. When she was sure that she was alone save for Nora, Finriel began to undress.

  The clear water was cool and refreshing as Finriel waded into it. The bottom of the pond was covered in small stones and soft sand, her feet sinking in slightly with every step she took. The pond itself was only deep enough to cover her breasts, and Finriel bent her knees slightly so that her shoulders were immersed as well. She took her hair out of its messy braid and let it tumble down her back.

  Dust clouded the crystalline water as Finriel scrubbed roughly at her skin. She hadn’t realized just how dirty she truly was until the light layer of grime was gone and her skin returned to its dark caramel color. Nora stretched out at the edge of the water, her eyes half closed as she waited patiently for Finriel to finish bathing. It was true that she needed to hurry.

  Finriel sucked in a deep breath and dunked her head under, the water covering her face and hair as she let herself sink down to the bottom of the shallow pool. Finriel reached her hands up and scrubbed at her face and her itching scalp. It would not clean her completely, but it had been many days since Finriel’s skin had been remotely clean, and it felt pleasant enough.

  The water turned blindingly cold and the shock of rough
hands clasped around her neck. Finriel choked and thrashed, but the hands were clamped tight and unwilling to release. She screamed and allowed the fire to swell within her and around her until it was the only thing she knew. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s. Not. Real. Finriel forced her eyes open and looked around. The water was now a murky brown from her kicking and thrashing. Finriel blinked and pushed off the bottom of the pool, gasping for breath as she broke the surface. Nora’s head shot up, and she meowed with concern as she looked at her master. The distant chirp of birds and a soft breeze caressed Finriel’s face, bringing her back to reality.

  “It’s nothing, Nora. I’m okay,” Finriel breathed, and settled herself back down so that her chest was submerged, letting out a sigh.

  * * *

  Tedric and Krete were standing with Aeden and Lorian by the time Finriel returned from the pool. Her friends were all gathered closely, conversing about the best routes to make during their journey. Finriel stood by the edge of an oak tree to watch the way Krete rubbed his chin contemplatively as he listened to Aeden speak. How every time Tedric looked down at Aeden, his eyes would soften in a way that sent shivers down Finriel’s arms. And how Lorian was not a part of the conversation at all, but simply leaned against a tree some meters away from their other friends, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He bore a thoughtful and slightly worried expression as he stared down at the ground. It was the face he always made whenever he would think about an important decision when they were younger. Finriel’s heart clenched at the memories, and at how the childhood friend she’d grown to hate had turned into this handsome man.

  Finriel shook her head and then stepped out from behind the trees to walk toward her friends. Lorian’s gaze shot up to meet Finriel’s and he straightened. Aeden turned her head and smiled at Finriel, who offered her a slight upturn of her lips in reply.