The Tales of Two Seers

by R. Cooper

  Theo was too purposeful, Zeki had the thought again. Theo had left his baking at the stone because he had someone in mind, and only someone oblivious would fail to note so obvious a sign of Theo Greenleaf’s intentions. Only a fool would reject them.

  Zeki was many things, but at least he was not a fool.

  WITH THAT in mind, Zeki took care to avoid the village if he could, and the standing stone, and the Greenleaf’s inn. He went to the market, only to leave at the sight of Ramona Greenleaf, although she had been alone. He heard no gossip, but it was difficult to listen for rumors when sitting alone in his house, and people desperate enough to need a witch or a healer were not inclined to chat or tell stories.

  He would visit Theo again when he was certain his hopes were gone.

  If Zeki grew sick of porridge, and his hearth did not compare to the warmth of the Greenleaf’s inn, it did not matter. And if he found himself weaving silly protective bracelets like the one he had made for Theo when they were both barely old enough to shave, he told himself he would take them on his next journey over the mountain and sell them for extra money.

  The standing stone continued to call to him, even in his cottage at night.

  When Zeki finally returned to the stone at the center of town, long past sunset, when only the stars offered him light, he saw more examples of Theo’s talent, as if new pastries had been offered every day.

  Zeki scowled at them for too long, thinking up insult after insult and even a curse for whoever would deny Theo like this, who would keep him waiting.

  He almost left a bracelet near the pastries for Theo to find, to cheer him up, but remembered himself and how that would look. Then he went home, to cold porridge and a cold bed, and an aching realization that Theo might lie in bed feeling the same, dreading another day of waiting.

  ZEKI HAD JUST spent hours at the bedside of the mayor’s son, all of seven, who had stumbled into the woods and into the path of an irritable sprite. Zeki had clucked and fussed over the boy’s newly-given donkey’s ears, and given him blessings aplenty, but the fact remained the boy would have to apologize to the sprite, properly, if he wanted the ears gone sooner. The sprite, who Zeki knew well, was of a spiky disposition, but not cruel.

  Nonetheless, explaining that to the mayor had not gone over well, and Zeki glared at the ground as he walked, without paying much attention to his surroundings, until he heard his name.

  “Witch Zeki!” Nette Greenleaf had stopped in the middle of clearing the street outside the entrance to her establishment to stare at Zeki expectantly. “I haven’t seen you for a while!”

  Theo’s mother was polite enough, or used to Zeki enough, to look him in the face.

  Zeki lifted his head without displacing his hood, then sighed and crossed to her. “I like you too much to drive away your customers with my presence,” he offered.

  Behind her, through the door, the inn looked to be bustling. A warm, bright den full of wine and tea and nice food, and Theo, somewhere, surrounded by suitors. The smells from inside were mouthwatering. Theo would no doubt be handsome and friendly.

  It was not Zeki’s every good dream, but it was close enough.

  Nette did not smile at Zeki’s comment. “You know you’re welcome,” she said, more serious than the moment deserved. “Same as any other. Perhaps more. We know what you do for us.”

  Zeki was the one who suddenly could not look her in the eye. “Suppose I am not in the mood for company,” he tried, as though he could stomach any more porridge and it was not plain in his voice that he hungered. “And it’s sure to be crowded now,” he went on weakly, “with so many bees drawn to the flower in your kitchens.”

  He had not meant to speak of that.

  “You’re not wrong to think so,” Nette admitted proudly, leaving Zeki to hide a grimace. But Nette’s smile was winning. “You should get something, at least, for the road. Return the dish to us later.”

  Zeki could hardly say no to one of the few families he liked, who treated him well. And, of course, he wanted to go in more than anything. He nodded and stifled a sigh as he crossed the threshold, and braced himself for stares as he pulled his hood back, although the crowds, distracted by thoughts of love and wooing, mostly did their best to ignore him today.

  The inn was too full for Zeki to take his usual table in the corner, forcing him to approach the counter, and young Albert, whose hair was tied up and out of the way. The counter was also lined with people. Theo looking for suitors was good for business, it seemed, though Theo would still be baking and cooking at this time of day, and wasn’t likely to emerge for long.

  Zeki explained his needs to Albert before giving him coin, and tried not to be concerned about the relieved twist to Albert’s smile at the sight of him. When Albert left, Zeki darted looks around at the others—at the men and women lingering around the counter for a chance to talk to Theo, wondering which was the one Theo actually wanted.

  Then a thick cloth piled with warm flatbread and plate loaded with spiced meatballs and cooked vegetables was pushed in front of him, and he looked up to thank Albert.

  Theo smiled at him instead.

  Tall and well-built, with his brown arms bare for the heat of the kitchens and his dark hair braided and pinned into a crown, Theo was a pretty sight even without his shining, welcoming gaze or the faint shimmer of sweat on his exposed skin.

  Zeki’s chest was too full of too much for him to speak. “Oh,” he said finally, probably not loud enough to be heard. He coughed and tried again. “Theo. I… thank you. I can’t wait.”

  “Albert said you were leaving.” Theo’s smile dimmed slightly. “You really aren’t staying today? I haven’t seen you for weeks.”

  Everything Zeki had wanted to forget abruptly returned to the forefront of his mind. He gestured to the side, to the row of people glaring his way or devouring Theo with their eyes. He dropped his gaze to his food. “There’s hardly room for me in all this,” he said, only a little bitter. He ought to seem friendlier, sweeter, or at least, nicer, so he added, “Although I am not surprised to see so many.”

  Theo leaned toward him, whispering. “They did not like to discover that the more they order, the more I am needed in the kitchens.” His tone made it clear this was something he expected Zeki to laugh about with him.

  The sharp, angry parts of Zeki wanted to. The rest of him did not dare meet Theo’s warm eyes. “They’ve been waiting for a long time.” Some of the sharpness was in Zeki’s voice until he forced it out and tried once again to be someone sweet and worthy of Theo’s friendship. “They can wait a little longer for you.” He could tease, too.

  “One gets tired of waiting, Zeki,” Theo replied after a pause. It felt to Zeki as though Theo wanted him to hear the hesitation, the silence and then the weight in his voice that said Theo had been lonely all this time.

  They’d had so many conversations together at Zeki’s usual table and at this counter. Theo hadn’t once mentioned a hollow chest or restless nights. Zeki had no right to feel betrayed by that, or whatever the horrible feeling was that had a hold of him.

  “So, you’ve decided.” Zeki now had no desire to eat the food in front of him. “To do this.” His words were stilted, obviously so. “Congratulations. I’m sure it will be a lively chase.” He was not a learned healer but a fool, punishing himself with every silly word spilling from his mouth. “You have someone in mind, then?” He shook his head and glanced up, alarmed and apologetic. Envy made him mean. “Do not listen to me. Your secrets are your own.”

  “I do,” Theo answered simply, scattering Zeki’s already wild thoughts to the winds.

  Zeki met Theo’s eyes, then blinked, though it did not help him absorb the blow. He felt suddenly very young, a boy again, shoving a bracelet at Theo before hurrying away.

  “There is someone you want?” he asked, throat scraped raw.

  Theo was no longer smiling. “I thought… I’ve always thought that was known.” He ran his gaze over Zeki’s face
. “But it seems it wasn’t.”

  Zeki did not want to imagine what Theo might feel, thinking of his beloved while looking at Zeki’s scars, so he ducked his head and methodically stacked the flatbread and napkin over the meat to hold in the warmth. He wanted to hurl the plate to the floor. It was not fair, but that did not matter. He would never have had even the chance to chase after Theo like the others.

  “Zeki?” Theo said his name quietly. “You won’t ask who it is?”

  “Do you want a charm for them?” Zeki asked dully. “One for encouragement, or perhaps confidence? You won’t need one. All you have to do is smile at them.” Zeki made a noise of panic, then growled at himself, doubtlessly only confusing poor Theo more. He risked a glance up, found Theo watching him with shining eyes. He was likely thinking of his beloved again. It didn’t make him any less wonderful. Zeki would agree to anything under that look, give Theo any charms he could to help speed his love along. “Of course, I can do that for you. Free of charge. A gift for your happiness.”

  He was a fool. The biggest fool until one crossed the mountains.

  “What?” Theo wondered, apparently lost at the turn the conversation had taken. That was yet another reason why he shouldn’t be wasting his time with Zeki.

  “You’re busy,” Zeki muttered, trying not to think of his blushes, how awkward he must seem. “And I should go. Thank you again.” He bit his lip to stop any more nonsense from escaping his mouth, and grabbed his food, moving to the door and noting as he did that someone hurried over to take his place in front of Theo.

  He didn’t wait to see who it was and if they were good enough. He wasn’t sure he could take that knowledge, at the moment, and, in any event, it did not matter.

  Theo wanted this, so Zeki already knew he would do his best to ensure it would happen, with the greatest possible outcome.

  HE REMINDED himself of that all through the night while regrets and curiosity plagued him. Because he was such an unparalleled fool and he could not sleep for wondering who Theo wanted and who had to want him in return, Zeki stayed up to make the promised charm, and then more besides. Theo deserved a gentle spouse and sweet dreams, and Zeki would likely never get the chance to work his magic for him again.

  He could barely remember the sight of his bracelet gracing Theo’s wrist. The magic in it had been weak. Despite that, Theo had politely worn it for a few months before the threads had snapped. By then, Zeki had been orphaned and under the witch’s care, and Theo had been firmly out of his reach. Zeki had never made him anything else.

  As he dug clay from the banks of the stream and ground up spring flowers by the light of the moon, Zeki imagined what would happen if he made similar charms and left them beneath the standing stone. A show of his skill for any potential suitors, although naturally, he would not make them love spells. Zeki’s offerings would go unanswered, but at least he would not be guilty of that.

  Zeki’s magic had more strength now than he’d had as a boy. He would not have been a terrible choice for someone in town who wanted a spouse with steady work. If he were not so bitter, if he had been granted a life without scars, someone might have been pleased by a bracelet of protection, or a charm for better luck. His skills in exchange for someone’s heart, if they could see past the rest of him.

  If there was anything to see.

  Zeki did not like his thoughts in the hours before dawn, though he also often felt they were correct. But tonight, because Theo had asked—or simply because he needed—Zeki pushed his despairing night thoughts aside to think only of Theo’s faithful heart.

  When he was done, he put the charms outside to consider them critically while they caught the light of the fading moon and the rising sun. If these were his last offering, he wanted them perfect.

  That they might have been viewed as courting gifts by some did not fail to occur to him, but Theo would know better, so the giving was safe.

  ZEKI SLEPT FOR two or three hours, then woke in a daze and washed up before setting out from his home to the village while the early morning mists kept the streets still and quiet.

  The inn was not truly ready for customers, though the door to the street was open. Theo’s parents were at a table, tea and sesame bread in front of them. Zeki had assumed they would question his presence, but though they stared when he staggered through the door, they merely pointed him toward the entrance to the kitchens and then grinned as he passed them.

  Zeki smiled nervously at them in return, but was too tired and too nervous to bother them with questions. He’d had no reasons to enter Theo’s domain before, and paused once beyond the doorway to exhale in weary pleasure. The air smelled of dough and spices, as well as the heat from the fire and the ovens made him shiver. Theo must have made breakfast for everyone, and was now preparing something for later in the day, rolling out and flattening dough to paper thinness. At a different work counter, Theo’s assistant, Violet, was chopping herbs.

  Theo’s hair was braided into a crown again, a few strands covered in flour and pushed behind an ear that was also dusted white. He had on a full shirt, although he had folded up the sleeves past his forearms.

  He was reaching for butter when he saw Zeki. He almost dropped the dish. “Zeki?”

  Violet turned to look at him, then Zeki, and smirked before continuing with their work.

  Theo swiped a dusty hand over his hair as he came over to greet Zeki. “Are you really here?”

  “I didn’t mean to bother you,” Zeki explained in a rush. “Your parents waved me in.”

  “It’s fine,” Theo assured him warmly, drawing a soft snort from Violet’s direction. Theo only smiled wider, radiant, as if he didn’t mind Zeki showing up unexpectedly even the slightest bit. Zeki couldn’t think after a night of no sleep and that smile, and nodded blankly in response to Theo’s questions. “Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”

  Zeki was startled to see himself holding a cup of tea and some warm bread with honey a few moments later. Theo stared at him until he took a bite, and then, even though Zeki tried to politely insist he was fine, served him a bowl of soup once the bread was gone. Zeki had to stand at the counter to eat, inexplicably flustered at being permitted to watch Theo prepare what Zeki thought was a dessert.

  Violet, normally chatty, hadn’t a thing to say. Theo was quiet as well, but his frequent glances to Zeki—apparently not convinced after all this time that Zeki loved his food—kept the silence from being uncomfortable. But he was also the first to break it once Zeki’s bowl was empty.

  “You liked it? You only ever order the same thing.”

  Zeki licked the last of the soup from his lips. “It strains my purse coming here as it is. There’s no need to tempt myself further.”

  “You wouldn’t—” Theo gave him a frustrated look. “I’m not asking for your money.”

  “Which reminds me,” Zeki said quickly, and looked down to search through his bag. “I brought gifts for you.” He shot a glance to Violet, but Violet was very intent on their work. Zeki laid each charm out on the counter. He had not attached any of them to strings or ribbons, not knowing how they would be worn or carried. “One for confidence,” Zeki ran his thumb over the small clay disk and held in a sigh, “for your shy suitor, as I promised. But these,” he gestured to the other two, “are for you. For a gentle companion, and for sweet dreams, so you won’t worry too much while you wait.”

  “Hmm,” Violet hummed significantly, then hustled over to stand in front of the ovens.

  “Thank you,” Theo said softly, and pulled the last two disks toward him. He left the first charm on its bed of flour. “I thought I wouldn’t need this one. You said I’d only need to smile.”

  Zeki briefly closed his eyes, and was grateful the heat of the kitchens disguised all blushes. He hadn’t thought Theo would enjoy flattery. “And I did not lie,” he admitted gruffly, gaze safely on Violet’s back. “But you seemed to believe your suitor was stubborn.”

  Theo did not return to rolling o
ut his dough. “He is. But I begin to think that isn’t the problem.”

  So, it was a man.

  Zeki swallowed and refused to dwell on that while he was in front of Theo.

  “Admittedly, someone like me knows nothing of courting, or of being wanted.” Zeki took a sip of tea to soothe his hoarse voice. “You implied you had waited before this. Did you leave your mark at the stone to prod him along?” He still could not speak normally; his throat stayed dry and rough. “I can’t imagine what the delay would be. You are a bridegroom many a mother would set their children at, for your cookery alone.”

  Theo responded too seriously to Zeki’s unfunny jest. “Is that all I am? Cookery?”

  Despite his longing heart and better judgement, Zeki snorted. “You have the eye of everyone our age in the village, Theo. Do not pretend you don’t know.” The words were softer and less bitter than he would have liked.

  Theo was unimpressed. “I’m handsome and I offer food, is that it? Any of them would say that.”

  Zeki frowned and finally returned his gaze to him. “You have always been kind, even to a witch who is fearful to gaze upon.”

  “Zeki.” Theo’s voice was shocked. Violet turned to stare at Zeki as well.

  People were used to not speaking directly to him, or about his face. But Zeki lived with it, and shrugged the subject away until Violet went back to ignoring him.

  “Your suitors must have more to say about you.” The warmth was fading from the cup of tea. Zeki took his time pushing it to the side. “I have… I have always found your presence calming, Theodore Greenleaf. It seems a good quality for a spouse. I am sure others agree.”

  “I have never found you calming,” Theo answered. When Zeki stared at him in surprise, Theo lifted, then lowered, his chin. “Not in that sense,” he added, quieter. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re more… a challenge.”