Even if she wanted a good conversation to steer her mind from the unpleasant thoughts she was having, there wasn’t a single sober person left to hold one. Giving up, she tossed another coin to the keep. “Can you take me to my room, please?” The owner gleefully curled his lips back, showing off a rotten display of jagged teeth.
“This way,” he answered, setting down the dirty rag he had been cleaning the bar top with. Fey smelled a moldy odor trailing from it when she came through the front door and prayed that the glass he’d given her wasn’t cleaned by it, for she feared risking getting sick before the trials. Following just behind him, she traced the edges of light along the walls of the lodging area that came off the candle the keep used to find his way throughout the dark halls. Upon arrival, she had asked that her chamber be at the back to be able to keep to herself. With a boorish grunt, he shoved the door open and threw Fey’s key onto the dresser next to the door.
“Keep ye’ paws off me paintin’s. I’m tired of tellin’ me guests they’re not to be trifled with. You mind your manners while ye’ here. Got it?” he spat with rage building up under his skin.
After a moment, he remembered her generosity and recanted. “I doubt ye’d need them at’ tall, Mistress.” Fey quickly nodded back and entered the room.
“No, I wouldn’t. I won’t touch your paintings. You have my word.” The girl was sure he had his fill of crafty guests stealing from him over the years. In Edelweiss Pines, your possessions held a huge part of your social status.
Without too much of a fuss, the old man left the room, whistling down the hall in a merry sort of way. She watched as he returned to the keep to tend to his sloppy guests. Shortly after, Wendell arrived to stand guard, sporting a rather smug expression as she quickly shut the door and tried not to make too much noise. She knew he could hear her every move and wanted to take another look at the ring she recently found. More than that, she wanted some time alone. She hadn’t had the chance to be with her own thoughts for very long since her life was turned upside down. Mostly, she needed the rest. It surprised Fey that as she finally settled down from unpacking, she didn’t hit the bed immediately.
She reached the only window in the room and pulled back the curtain so that no one could peer in. On each corner of the street she could see a member of her cousin’s faction posted at guard. I’ll never be alone again. Why has she set up so much security? Feeling her eyes grow heavy, the girl sauntered to her bed and sat down. A loud creak pierced the silence, and the witch fell back. Much like her departed grandmother, Fey drifted off without tossing and turning. The bold shots of alcohol saw to that. The rhythmic hum of her breathing joined in with the crickets’ harmonious chirping, which sounded from the grassy fields surrounding the Inn. It would be the first night she dreamt of her mother … in over ten years.
Wendell, obediently stood still, observing every detail of the hallway that led to both the exit and the front of the building where the bar was located. It was a quiet night with nothing but the spiders in the corners to keep him company. He didn’t expect much to happen in the way of action, so he relaxed knowing he’d be there all night. He knew of his master’s plan. The Westfall girl was to bring about the end of the world, and he would be the harbinger of that evil.
In the beginning, he joined the faction to serve his town, to prove his loyalty to the throne. He wanted to be the next Matron’s Senior White Guard and was promised the position if he helped Larae do her bidding. There was an ancient secret hidden within the girl’s magic and only after she became Matron, would her true nature unleash.
That’s where Wendell came in. The only true way to make the girl vulnerable was to imprint the impression that he loved her. Unfortunately, these orders were unbreakable, and it was his job to oversee distracting the girl from her Trials, so that Larae could be Matron once more under emergency precautions. He had no more control over his actions than a honey bee had to serve its hive’s needs. Long ago, initially to satisfy her wicked lust, Larae had placed a HEX on him. Eventually, he could not deny any action she wanted to be carried out. No matter how he felt about the girl, he had to do as his master commanded. Soon, he heard the faint sounds of the girl’s breathing and knew she was fast asleep.
He’d been ordered to watch her from the moment she’d woken up to greet the morning, till the time her head hit her pillow. In fact, he’d taken to watching her most mornings, and had grown fond of seeing her striking green eyes as they opened for the first time each day. He could get lost in her jade paragon glare forever. Slowly, he pulled out a copy of the key he’d been given by the barkeep. He compelled the old man into believing he’d lost it, so that he would not alert the girl of his intentions. Without a peep, Wendell opened the door and rushed inside. Fey’s picturesque frame laid flat atop the old mattress. He leaned over to take in her intoxicating scent and instead, spied her cleavage through the unbuttoned top of her dress. Tiny bumps popped up all over him as the smell of the girl’s fragrance reached his nostrils.
A burning desire flooded his form, and he took a step back to put some distance between them. “Soon enough, my dear.” Larae’s evil voice rang through his ears like a resurfaced night terror. He cringed. Hearing her voice was like living through hell for an eternity. How he hated the sound! The wench constantly threw wicked ideas at him, testing his resolve to her spells. Of course, in the end, he would have no say over what had to be done. For now, all he could do was keep himself from Fey. Yet, he had no choice, but to make her fall for his fake advances.
But, are they fake? Wendell sat there, admiring her stunning natural beauty. His irresistible desire only grew as he spotted the way her red curls sprung down her face, stopping just before her titillating, luscious lips. They held a natural scarlet hue and plumpness that made it difficult not to kiss them. Every move she made, lured Wendell’s eyes to eagerly follow, as if at any moment, she could wake. He didn’t mind being on edge all night, as long as it meant
he could watch her sleep.
CHAPTER 11
Unexpected Bond
Fey began the morning by sobbing into her pillow as silently as possible. An overwhelming sense of loss bombarded her concentration as soon as the light of the sun at the window warmed her cheeks. She stretched out her stiff body, releasing a much-needed calming yawn. Feeling rested and ready to tackle the day, as best she could. The girl wasn’t sure where to begin, or what her part in her grandmother’s funeral would be, but assumed her cousin would let her know any updates that needed her attention. She knew of a remote spot meant to be her grandmother’s resting place, and where they would have buried her mother if they ever found her. Aris had taken Fey a few years back to visit the location while she could still get around to view the site. Larae would need to know where to go and she would point the way.
She sat up when a knock trampled her thoughts and quickly jumped up to check the peephole. Standing on her tippy-toes to see who it might be, the witch squinted and grinned at the sight of her visitor. Wendell? He stood in front with brooding eyes that begged for her attention. Fey slowly opened the door and could not help herself when a smile broke out unexpectedly. He had that effect on her.
“Well, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” she asked as her voice rang a tad higher than usual. She was afraid her soft interior was beginning to show.
“I just came by to check on you, you really shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m going to be just fine. Thank you for your concern.” It seemed the excited witch had instantly lost sight of what she had been doing before he came along and shut her grandmother’s Grimoire she had forgotten she was clutching; invited him inside the room.
With observant consideration of how long he’d been patiently waiting outside her door, Fey offered him a place to sit. “Have a seat.”
Wendell sat in the chair next to her bed, crossing his feet underneath his heavy, black robes. Dried mud flaked off his boots down onto the floor and he huffed as a reaction. “So
rry about that—I can clean it up,” he muttered as he stood up looking for a broom.
“Allow me,” she replied with a well-mannered smirk. She coiled her fingers in the air as a blue essence escaped, forming a gust of wind that carried the chips out of the window as she flicked her fingers on her other hand to open it. Soon, the gathered remnants disappeared along with the wind and the mess.
“Thanks. Although, I wouldn’t have minded cleaning it up the old-fashioned way. I do have hands you know?” he joked.
He noticed the girl did not laugh at first, and felt the need to explain himself. “I’m only joking. Thank you, for cleaning it up.”
“Sure,” Fey answered back. She leaned forward and reached across him searching for a pillow to clutch in her lap. As she found the perfect one, the box in her robe pocket fell out and tumbled to the floor. Wendell instinctively shot his hand down to grab it before it rolled underneath the bed.
“Oh, my stars!” Fey cried out. Partly because she’d inadvertently showed Wendell the secret box with the ring, and partly because she didn’t want to have to fish it out from underneath the dusty bed. “Thanks,” she mumbled dejectedly as she reached for the box in Wendell’s hand and he pulled it back.
He hesitated on opening it and asked, “What’s in here? Anything I should know about?” The girl’s cheeks flushed as she lost her focus and didn’t know what to say.
“Nothing at all. Just a ring I found in my grandmother’s room. I think it belonged to my ancestors, but I’m not sure about its origins.
“Have you taken a closer look at it? Maybe it’ll have an inscription, or the mark of the jeweler who created it,” he disclosed.
Fey stopped to think about what she might find. She’d never seen the box in her grandmother’s possession before. It’s like, after her death, it suddenly appeared out of thin air. Or, maybe she just wanted me to find it?
“May I?” he asked courteously.
She nodded, feeling less nervous about letting Wendell in on the secret of the ring. She had a feeling, that in some way, it was connected to the death of her gran.
“Okay,” Fey gave in.
Wendell gradually opened the box to reveal the impressive sapphire beheld by the setting. The light from the lanterns glistened in the precision of the carved stone and acted as a kaleidoscope of sorts.
“It sure is flattering, isn’t it?” he noted when he shifted it around in the light to see the designs it created on the wall.
“Yes, I haven’t had the time to get a good look at it. I wonder who it belonged to in my family?” She didn’t think her question would cause him to search for answers.
Hearing her comment, Wendell pulled the ring out and held it up to the light of the fire. “It’s definitely ancient. I’d say,” he began, but cut his statement short as something caught his eye.
“What’s that?” he jolted, scooching closer to the fire to utilize its amber smolder.
“Where?” the girl asked inquisitively as she followed his lead.
“There’s a symbol on the gem itself. I can’t make it out, though. I’d need a magnifying glass. Maybe, you were supposed to wear it before your ceremony. You did find it in your grandmother’s room, after all. I’ve heard of witches carrying around talismans and jewelry to help increase their power. Maybe, this could be helpful to you,” he suggested. He strolled over to the girl and slipped the ring on her finger as he stared into her eyes. He knew doing so would force her to forget what he was doing.
His grasp on her hand grew tender and affectionate. “Thanks, it actually fits!” she announced to him.
“I thought it would. How does it feel?” he enquired, trying to see if anything had changed in her, or if she sensed anything different about herself.
“Fits rather well. I think it was destiny that brought me to this ring. I wonder what its story is?”
“Why don’t we find out?” Wendell responded as he stood, brushing off the bottom of his shirt.
“Maybe there will be something to explain it at the Westfall Manor?” he urged, hoping the girl would take the bait.
“You think so? I’m not sure I want to go back there right now, but I am due for some practice. Maybe you could go with me to the dark woods? I’ve been casting there since I started.” She mentioned her special spot because she didn’t really want to be alone with her own thoughts like she thought she would. Wendell seemed easy to talk to and having him around in place of her grandmother would be a positive thing —even if he was one of Larae’s goons.
“I don’t mind. I’m supposed to keep watch over you and help with anything you need. Let’s go.” He stood along with her and put a hand on the door.
She grinned from ear-to-ear. “Let me just freshen up and I’ll meet you outside?” He nodded back and stepped out of the room to let her get ready for the day.
As Fey stepped into a fresh dress and combed her untamed hair back, she felt a slight pang of heaviness wash over her. She gripped the railing of the bed and held on as the force nearly brought her to the floor. After a moment of the pressure, the heaviness went away just as fast as it had come. Shaking her head, Fey tried to clear the obtrusion out of her mind to rekindle her broken senses. What’s happening to me?
Almost instantly, the girl felt as if the episode had never happened and brushed it off as her nerves getting in the way. Jumping back into her usual routine, she gathered up her grandmother’s Grimoire, a pair of candles, a small bowl, flint and steel, and a few potions; everything she’d need throughout the day. Without thinking much, she kept the ring from her gran on her finger and opened the door, letting in a flood of barroom smells.
“Let’s go!” she proclaimed excitedly to Wendell from the doorway. He beamed back at her, noticing the fresh attire she had changed into. He could see a hint of flirtatiousness in what she’d chosen to wear: a white, form-fitting, long-sleeved dress with embroidered lace trim. The curves of her exquisite bum stood out perfectly and contrasted against the ruby red hair that hung down her shoulders in tight, energetic curls. Shutting the door behind her, he stole a glimpse of her backside, before outstretching a hand toward the exit.
“After you.”
CHAPTER 12
A Letter From The Dead
Fey’s feet gently swept over the grass of a nearby field, not far from her specially chosen spot in the dark woods. The air was considerably warmer than it had been the night before, and gusts of wind whistled through the trees as several cawing black birds flew overhead. With such a peaceful environment, she was sure to get a fair amount of practice in just before the trials. She was ready to channel all her emotions into her magic, because it was the only thing she could think of doing and it gave her more time to be with her latest interest, Wendell. He had easily stolen her affection with his protective charm, and seemed genuinely concerned about what happened to the girl. No one, set aside her gran, had shown her such kindness. Of course, there were the people who wanted her favor once she became Matron, but that was fake and to be expected.
“Come on, we aren’t far. We’ve got to walk a bit,” she told him as she let go of her broom, allowing it to hover over the ground.
“You like seclusion, don’t you?” Wendell inquired with a harmless laugh.
“Yes, I do. It’s the only way I can truly be myself,” Fey admitted.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? I mean, you’re not an annoyance. I happen to like you.” Even as he said the words, his face appeared surprised that he had mentioned it.
The girl smirked at his assertion. “You like me, eh?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly put it like that, but yeah, I do. You’re not like most of the other witches around here. You work hard for everything you have. I can tell. Here, most of the families act like the world owes them something. You––You’re compassionate and sympathetic. Not at all like your cousin.” The last of his answer shot out as if he were worried someone might overhear their conversation. It didn’t seem to matter that th
ey were in the middle of nowhere.
“What makes you say that? I just met you. I hardly think that qualifies you to know what type of person I am.” Fey pursued. She began to wonder exactly what Wendell meant. How could he know anything about me? We just met.
“I only meant that’s how you appeared to carry yourself. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” his eyes traveled away from her and into the woods.
“Nonsense, Wendell, stop being so restricted. You’re here with me. Why don’t you live a little? It’s not like my cousin is watching.” The girl eyeballed the forest surrounding them as a secondary precaution, just as he had. She thought she was being funny, but Wendell seemed even more tense than before.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he proposed in a low voice, delaying a lively grin.
Fey giggled cheerfully at his teasing. “What’s a guy like you, working for someone like Larae? She’s ruthless! You honestly don’t seem the type.”
He let out a lingering sigh, choosing his answer carefully. “I just wanted to serve the throne and somehow–– but then…I got mixed up with Larae. Now, The Guardian Faction is my family.” Wendell pronounced as if he were trying to convince himself of the fact that he considered anyone he worked with as family.
“I feel sorry for you. I lost contact with her when I was very young. I’m surprised she’s even doing this for me now. It doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense … but at least you’re here. I’ll have some company for a change.” As the pair dove deeper into the grove, a sense of obscurity overtook the light of the day. The rays of the sun scarcely peeked through the dense trees that seemed much taller the farther they worked their way into the woods.
The Aching Darkness_A Dark Fantasy Anthology Page 20
