by Ashley Meira
The tree Adam was referring to towered far behind the Bluejay’s home, but looked large enough to be right in front of us. It was unique to the other trees, with a canopy of leaves wide enough to cover all of Amatovci in shadow. Its base had to be large enough to contain an entire town. I wondered if that’s where Goliki was? Could the settlement be nestled within the tree itself?
“Really?” I asked, finally finding my voice. “We just stepped into another world, and the tree is the first thing you notice?”
“I was looking up,” he said simply. “And this isn’t another world. Can you smell the chlorophyll?”
I nodded. “It’s very strong, even for all the greenery surrounding us.”
“It’s green magic,” he said. “It was around Charlotte’s house, too. The residents here must use their powers to maintain the season.”
It made sense. Green witches drew on the earth itself, so winter wouldn’t affect them, but it would kill off most of the plants they needed to create their potions.
It was a fascinating concept, but Fiona and I had never visited smaller magical settlements. I’d always steered us away from their barriers if I could help it. The smaller a town was, the more likely its residents were to take notice of outsiders, and attention was the last thing we wanted.
We’d stuck to bigger cities, where a pair of young girls could get lost in the crowd and no one would be the wiser. But large cities didn’t have this sort of magic. They changed with the seasons to keep up with societal norms — norms that didn’t really matter since no one outside the city would notice the difference. But hey, I wasn’t in charge of that stuff, so what did I know? Besides, I kind of enjoyed the variety.
“Do you think Goliki is in that tree?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Did Ollie mention it was?”
I dug through my memory but couldn’t find anything. “He said they lived in the forest and that his mom had a huge garden, but not much else. When he speaks of home, it’s usually in reference to the people, not the place itself.”
“Guess we’re about to find out, then.”
We began walking once more. I dug into my half of the food, no longer concerned about conserving our supply. I had enough strength to make it back to the car. If not, I’d steal Adam’s half, which he’d left woefully uneaten.
The sounds of nature were abundant here. Bird calls, cracking twigs, and the rustling of leaves served as our background music. I even saw a deer farther off, though Adam said it was impossible. Magical animals gathered here, but normal creatures would always follow their natural instincts when it came to the seasons. I didn’t press the issue, but I was certain I saw brown fur and antlers lurking in the distance.
While we weren’t sure if the giant tree in the middle actually was Goliki, we continued toward it anyway. Based on the barrier’s dimensions, the tree was in the middle of it, meaning its size wasn’t its only noteworthy feature. We were sure to glean something from visiting it. A shadow caught my eye as we walked. I stopped and grabbed Adam’s arm.
“See?” I whispered, jabbing a finger to our left. “A deer.”
Adam’s brow furrowed as he turned to the shape. It moved too quickly for either of us to confirm my theory, but the jagged things above its head definitely resembled antlers.
I paused, paranoia — and memories of way too many movies — seeping in. “You don’t think the residents of Goliki are actually tribal cannibals or something, do you? And the witch at the diner was trying to fatten us up with this food?”
“Fatten us up?” he said, wincing as I elbowed him. “It could be a unicorn.”
“With two horns?” I tried to think of any magical animals that resembled deer, but none came to mind. “Let’s go see.”
“Let’s not. We came here to find Charlotte, not play deer hunter.”
“First of all, it’s not a deer. Second of all, I’m not hunting it.”
“And third of all?” he asked dryly.
Third of all, I was really glad he was concerned for his half-sister despite the tumultuous circumstances of her birth. Not that I planned on bringing that up now. Things had been going so well — I didn’t want to spoil the mood.
“I just want to see. It didn’t go that far.”
“Do you have any idea how far it could have gotten by now?”
“Do you have any idea how freaked out deer get over seeing tiny fairies?” I asked before setting off toward the shadow’s last known location. “Seriously, ask Fiona. Pretty sure she’s still traumatized. We ate well that night, though.”
If Adam had a reply to my attempt at distracting him, it was an expression I couldn’t feel against my back. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be negative, because he followed me into the woods. Well, into another part of the woods, since there were no paths and we’d just been walking in a straight line toward the giant tree. I paused, making a note to ask Ollie’s parents if the tree was sacred in any way, or if I could refer to it as the Deku tree without being struck by holy lightning.
I was so focused on my search that it took me a minute to realize the sounds of the forest had died down, leaving nothing but the rustling of branches in my ears. The smell of chlorophyll had grown stronger, and the taste of leaves coated my tongue. Were we approaching the village?
It wasn’t an answer, but a glowing green light flew toward me as I thought the question. I ducked, feeling the spell rush past my head, the powerful wind it created scattering my hair every which way. Adam helped me to my feet, and we both took up battle stances.
“Goliki isn’t a hostile village,” he said. Fire danced around his arms before he remembered where we were and switched to ice.
“I hope not,” I said, mimicking him. Maybe it was because of my heritage, but I much preferred using fire or lightning. Then again, I guess it didn’t matter what elements I preferred, because I liked not starting forest fires more than either. “Otherwise, I’m going to make Ollie’s life a living hell.”
“More than you already do?”
I frowned. “I liked it better when you weren’t sassy.”
“You rub off on me.”
“Keep up the ‘tude, and I never will again.”
He choked, and I flashed him a smug grin before advancing toward the source of the magic. We used the trees as cover, figuring their broad trunks could take a hit or two, but nothing else came our way. The magic grew stronger as we advanced, and soon we discovered the source.
A blonde woman in red was on the ground, surrounded by three floating creatures. Their bodies were shaped in a vaguely human way, with thin waists and two legs. But those legs were bound together with vines and their bodies were made entirely of wood. Antlers grew from their heads, winding around in intricate patterns.
They were spriggans, forest spirits. I’d seen a few before, though they’d never been hostile. They protected themselves and the forests in which they lived from threats, but the thin woman cowering before them didn’t seem very dangerous.
Green lights swirled around their fingers, shaped like a human’s but made of twigs. Their iris-less eyes glowed with the same color, and they raised their heads to look at us.
“Can you talk to them?” I asked Adam. “Earth mages can do that right?”
“They can if the spriggans are in the mood to converse,” he said, eyeing the magic charging in their hands. “I don’t think these guys want to chat.”
We took cover as they attacked, blasting the air where our heads had been. Before I could rise, roots wrapped around my ankle and pulled me upside down. I unsheathed my sword, the dark metal gleaming in the light, and sliced the bindings. My shoulder connected with the ground. I winced at the pain but quickly pulled myself up and searched for more cover. I found another tree and hid, peering out into the battlefield.
Five more spriggans had appeared, all converging on Adam. He had no problem keeping them away, though they had a habit of melting into the earth beneath us when he attacked. Something hit my back
, shoving me to the ground. I looked up and saw a pair of spriggans pulling themselves from the tree trunk, their rough wooden skin twisting into the humanoid appearance they favored. In hindsight, it did feel stupid to hide from forest spirits behind a tree.
“We come in peace?” I tried before scrambling away from two blasts of magic. The ground where I’d been looked unblemished from the attack, likely because it provided the spriggans with their magic in the first place. “Hey, you guys attacked first!”
I ran away from another pair of blasts before throwing a burst of ice at my attackers. Since spriggans were guardians, I felt bad fighting them. They were just doing their jobs, after all, and protecting the forest was a noble vocation. But they were attacking me, and I wasn’t about to let them take my head off.
“That’s enough!” a stern, yet feminine voice said. I didn’t know who she was speaking to, but the authority in her voice made my grip falter. “All of you need to calm down.”
The blonde woman who’d been on the ground stomped toward the middle of the trees we were using as a battlefield. Despite her girlish tone, she appeared to be at least in her thirties. The freckles dotting her pale skin were hidden under a red flush, and her hazel eyes were narrowed in the displeased glare I’d seen mothers give their children when they got too rowdy. She ran a hand across her high bun, fixing the clip holding it together, before speaking again.
“I don’t know what has gotten into all of you, but I have lived here for the past twenty years, and I’ll be damned if your little tantrums are going to keep up! Go back to your trees now.”
Amazingly, the spriggans dropped their arms, the magical glow around them fading, as they turned to regard the woman. Their expressionless heads tilted to the side before they straightened and began floating back to their homes. I watched in disbelief as the spriggans melted into the trees, their emerald green eyes vanishing beneath the bark.
“Thank you for not hurting the spriggans,” she said, drawing my attention back. “They’ve been so fussy lately. I hope you aren’t hurt.”
Adam and I exchanged curious looks before approaching her. The taste of apples burst onto my tongue, and I found familiarity in her hazel eyes.
“We’re fine, thank you,” I told her. “Are you Ollie’s mother?”
“I am.” She smiled at the mention of his name. “You must be Sophia and Adam. Oliver mentioned you’d be coming by today.”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Volkias?” Adam asked. “When we found you—”
“Please, call me Olivia. And there’s no need to worry about me. I was just gathering a few things when those spriggan appeared.” She went back to the clearing where we’d found her. After picking up a small basket, she came back to us and nodded toward the east. “Come along. We can speak more at my place.”
“I thought spriggans were peaceful,” I said, following after her as she walked toward the giant tree.
“They are, but something has been riling them up lately. My husband says the magic flowing through the earth has changed and it’s causing them to lash out. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it’s affecting the plants as well.” She held out her basket, revealing the herbs inside. I couldn’t tell what was wrong, but she said, “Note their pale coloring. They’re coming in weaker than usual and in smaller amounts. Most of them die before they reach maturity.”
“Could it be the effects of winter?” Adam asked. “The spells you use to maintain the environment may need to be reenforced.”
“It could be any number of things. Pollution, a lack of rain….” She sighed, gesturing vaguely to the air. “The earth is a fickle mistress. My husband and the others are pumping as much of their earthen magic into the Mother tree as they can, which seems to be slowing the damage, but they can’t keep that up forever.”
“The Mother tree?” I asked. “Is that the giant tree in the middle?”
She nodded. “Its magic sustains most of this, though we give our magic as an offering when we can. If we didn’t have the Mother tree, I imagine the damage done would be far greater than it currently is. That’s why the mages have been giving it magic more than usual — to keep it charged as it pushes back whatever influences are affecting the earth.”
As she finished speaking, the sound of idle chatter filled the silence. I followed Olivia down a small hill, taking in the town of Goliki that awaited below. For a moment, I thought I’d discovered The Shire, but the roofs weren’t covered in grass, and the people milling around were of average size instead of hobbits. There were roughly two dozen homes here, each designed like old-fashioned cottages.
There was a market to our right, farther ahead. A crowd was gathered there, looking through the various stalls. Couples sat at tables covered by giant leaves, sipping beverages as they enjoyed their lunch while children played at the playground nearby.
In the center of town stood the Mother tree. They might not live in it, but I’d been right about it having enough room to house everyone. The Mother tree’s trunk was massive. Its canopy of leaves cast a dark shadow across its base, but surprisingly, the rest of Goliki remained in the light. I double-checked the foliage, but concluded it was impossible for the town not to be covered in shadow.
“The Mother tree has many talents,” Olivia said, correctly interpreting my perplexed stare.
“Apparently.” Adam frowned, giving the tree a lingering look.
That was when I noticed what was off. My Fire had risen as we approached the tree, hungry for the abundance of ancient magic within. As uncomfortable as my Fire’s hunger was, I’d learned to live with it. I’d had to. Otherwise, I’d have gone crazy and attacked every mage in sight long ago. But with that talent came a sense of ignorance as I passed by most magic. It caused me to miss things I might have normally noticed instantly, like the tree’s magic.
It maintained the chlorophyll odor that permeated the forest, though it was nearly overwhelming here. I didn’t imagine many trackers lived in Goliki if this was what the magic smelled like. But there was something different about this magic, something I’d noticed in the glowing spells the spriggan had thrown at us. A scent — something dark but not quite earthy. It almost reminded me of beer.
“Liv!” a deep, jovial voice called as we approached a cottage near the Mother tree’s left side.
A short man came out, and it wasn’t until he came closer that I realized he wasn’t a man at all. Standing at around five foot six, he was as tall as he was wide. His stocky build was common for goblins, who rarely grew much taller and were as strong as the earth they’d come from. Despite his muscles and deep-set features, his eyes were kind, and I saw a reflection of Ollie’s face as he smiled at us. Ollie may have inherited most of his features from his mother, but his smile definitely came from his father. As did his hair, I noted when the goblin came closer. A tuft of sandy brown hair stood on his head, more frizz than anything else, but it gave him a boyish look that suited his appearance.
“Edward, come meet Oliver’s friends,” Olivia said kindly.
I raised a brow at his name. Edward was a human name. A lot of non-human creatures changed their name to something more “common” when they moved away from their homelands. Like Rosie, an orc warrior from the Mercenary Guild. Sure, it was impossible to disguise her heritage. One look at her flattened nose and the large under-teeth that protruded from her lower jaw out of her mouth made it clear what she was, but at least we could pronounce her name.
Since “Edward” lived in such a secular community, I was surprised he’d changed his name. I didn’t pry, though. It wasn’t my place — meaning I’d wait until I got home to ask Ollie.
“Greetings!” he said happily, patting us both on the back. His strength pushed me forward, and I had to fight to keep the surprised look off my face. “Come in, come in! My lovely wife has been fussing over your arrival all day. We have tea and food — more than you two can eat, despite what she may think.”
His words were said in good humor, and there was a s
mile on Olivia’s lips as she rolled her eyes. “It seems someone wants to have dinner at the café tonight.”
Edward stroked his rounded chin carefully. “They did say lamb was the special tonight….”
“Urgh!” Olivia shooed him toward the living room as she stepped through the stone archway across from the front door. It led to the kitchen, if the wood oven was any clue. “Entertain our guests. And watch that smart mouth of yours, or you’ll return from the café to find all the doors locked.”
“As if I can’t climb through the window,” he whispered to us with a coy wink.
“And the windows!” she called from the kitchen.
His smile vanished, and he ushered us to our seats. Their living room was a small space with two love seats on either side of a plain, wooden coffee table. A fur rug rested underneath it, and I curled my sock-covered toes around the softness tickling my feet. We sat on one love seat while Edward took the other, his broad form filling the entire thing.
Olivia came back a moment later with a brass tea service. The scent of herbal tea drifted into my nose, making me homesick. It smelled exactly like Ollie’s, and I found myself wondering how rude it would be to ask for mac and cheese. Olivia raised a brow at me, and I blushed. Right, she was a green witch, which meant she’d picked up on my sudden desire for the dish.
“Thank you, my dear,” Edward said pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she sat on the arm rest beside him.
She gave him a fond smile that made my chest tighten. There was a stigma between human and non-human couplings, especially when the non-human looked, well, non-human. It was shitty, but a lot of people were prejudiced toward that sort of thing. That was part of the reason why so many of the upper class scorned Ollie’s cafe. They didn’t have a problem with the food, they had a problem with him.
But looking at his parents now, I couldn’t see how anyone could have an issue with it. They looked so in love. That wasn’t what caused the pain, though. It was thinking of my parents. Had they looked at each like that? Did they still? Were they out there somewhere, looking for the children that had been cruelly ripped from their grasp? Or were they dead, left to rot in a pauper’s grave because no one would dare claim a Fireborn as their own?
