Duplicitous Magic

by Linn Tesli

  Everine couldn’t say she disagreed. It would be rude to show up at a formal meeting looking like she had when they arrived. The dress was cut from soft silk, falling in gentle waves to frame her body and featured long sleeves and a high neckline. With no one there to see her, Everine twirled once, hugging Ayva close to her as the skirt swung out around her.

  She put the baby in the basket where she had slept and picked it up. She pinched her cheeks, blinked at her reflection in the mirror, and was ready.

  Birken walked beside her in silence as they crossed a bridge and then descended a stone staircase leading to their destination. Once they arrived at an entranceway to the central platform, Birken took Everine’s hand in his and stopped.

  The corners of his mouth twitched from side to side before he said, “There are three more members of the council besides myself and Frida. Thorleif is the one we need to worry about. He’s very protective of our chasm, and he’s not fond of outsiders.”

  Everine sighed. “At least he has his peoples’ interests in mind, right? What about the two other members?”

  “Yes. There’s our wise woman, Sol, and the council’s foreman, Ragnar.”

  “Wait—Sol is a witch?”

  “Not a practicing one. She’s exceedingly sharp, too. And don’t use that term here—you know, ‘witch.’” Birken shuddered. “They come as a pair, by the way—Sol and Ragnar. If you sway one, you’ll have the other’s vote as well.” Birken hesitated. “I want you to know that whatever is said, I’m on your side.” He averted his face.

  Everine studied him. Why would he need to reassure her of something she had not questioned? It left her uneasy.

  Birken cleared his throat. “Also, you must allow the council members to really meet Ayva, like I did. Let them look into her eyes.”

  Everine crossed her arms and took a step back. “What have you told them? You made us a promise.”

  Facing down, he dug his left foot into the ground.

  “I told them nothing they didn’t already know, Ev. Please, I’m on your side.”

  Everine lifted her chin and strutted past Birken toward the platform.

  With her hands clasped behind her back and Ayva in the basket at her feet, Everine faced the members of the council. She was determined to make a good impression. No matter what Rolf had said, Bermunnos was by far her best option. She was determined to convince the council to allow them to stay.

  The man in the center, who she gathered must be Ragnar, had sandy-colored, sun-bleached hair, which lay braided close to his head in bold geometrical patterns.

  He wore an impressive amount of jewelry studded with gems. As with the rest of the Earthlings, however, his remaining attire was minimal. Only a black leather, open-chested tunic and a pair of breeches accompanied the heavy golden ornaments. The ensemble showcased his sculpted muscles.

  Ondox discreetly lifted a wing to hide his face and winked at Everine from his place on the edge of the platform.

  Beside the five tall chairs sat a few smaller, plainer ones. In one sat an Earthling who was scrawny by Earthling standards. His back was straight and his chin tight. To his right was a cloaked figure bent over a small, round table. There was no way to tell who hid underneath the folds of cloth.

  Everine poised herself and waited. Rolf had explained to her how the council worked. If she were to speak out of turn, it might influence them to vote against her interests. She remained silent.

  Ragnar lifted his eyes. They were of different colors—one gold, one chocolate brown. He raised his chin, beckoning to someone behind Everine. Within seconds, Rolf appeared by her side with a chair. The young Ahddamsson winked at her as he set the chair down, then retreated to one of the entry points nearby. Everine gathered the fabric of her dress and sat. She crossed her legs and placed the basket with Ayva in her lap behind her folded hands.

  Everine answered every look she was given with forced assurance. Rolf had told her that the Earthlings didn't favor those who were weak or indecisive. Of course, neither did they appreciate insubordination or actions taken on a whim. When she had silently greeted the entire council, Ragnar opened the meeting.

  “Welcome, Everine Vargens of Beregend. The fate of the griffins has already been decided upon. Today, we're here to exchange views and pass judgement on the matter of whether or not you'll be allowed to join our society. This, of course, includes your child.” He angled his chin curiously at the basket in Everine’s lap. “That is, unless you wish to be judged individually?” He turned his palms up.

  Everine could not believe he had asked her such a question. The idea of being separated from Ayva was unimaginable, and yet, she had to consider if Ayva might be better off if the council decided only she could stay. Birken would take good care of her. She glanced at her child and the decision was made for her. Ayva needed a human mother, and whatever happened they should stay together. She squared her shoulders. “Where she goes, I go.”

  Ragnar inclined his head. “Very well. We will pass only one judgement this day.” He introduced the other members, excluding the two nameless strangers who sat beside the council.

  The scrawny Earthling had equipped himself with a set of tools. He used a small hammer and a chisel to carve intently on a slab of stone. Everine thought he must be the clerk.

  Ragnar began by addressing the council members as a group. “What are your concerns in this matter? Please make sure you voice both pros and cons before we reach a final decision. The final vote must be unanimous in favor of it if we're to let the mother and child stay in Bermunnos.”

  Unanimous? Everine bit her tongue but frowned. Birken had not mentioned that.

  Ragnar signaled Thorleif to speak first.

  Thorleif resembled Ragnar in appearance, though without the same air of glamour. His hair was even thicker than Ragnar’s. Though it was styled in a similar way on top, thick braids fell almost to his shoulders. His gold-brown skin was a shade darker than Ragnar’s as well. Dusky bronze eyes rested under heavy-set, protuberant brows, revealing that despite their similarity in appearance, the two Earthlings didn't share similar sentiments.

  Thorleif stood and raised his gravelly voice. “From what we’ve learned, this woman helped save the life of one of the most treasured members of our society, a council member no less.” His deep voice boomed into the chasm. Earthlings on the closest levels above stopped to look down at the council meeting. “I believe she’s earned her right to walk among us.” His tone carried an edge to it that made Everine grip the basket tighter.

  His lips tightened. “However, from what we’ve been told, she’s also the mother of a special child. A child the likes of which none but a few have ever seen. We don't know what power she possesses or what trouble we ask for if we allow her to stay. Many eyes will seek her out, I fear. I believe she poses a threat to our neutral position in Aradria and to our home.”

  Frida and Sol nodded at his words, and Thorleif lifted his chin higher. “I’ll not stand idly by should this child grow to become our undoing. She’s not our responsibility if we don't make her so. Must I remind you of our history? We didn't ask for this burden, and I, for one, don't want it.”

  Ragnar’s face revealed nothing about whether or not he agreed, but he respectfully accepted Thorleif´s contribution to the debate. “Thank you for your wise reflections,” he said. He beckoned to Frida, who sat to his left.

  Frida cleared her throat but remained in her seat. Her elbows rested on her knees, her palms clasped under her chin.

  “Thorleif is right in that we don't know the future. But I say, do we ever? Are we to rely upon visions, which change with every new decision made?”

  What she said put Everine on edge.

  Why would she talk of visions? she wondered. What visions have they seen that would have anything to do with Ayva?

  Frida let her hands fall between her knees and lifted her head regally. “This child might be a blessing, not a curse. Are we to continue to hide behind our neutrality wh
ile the rest of Aradria burns for our sins? If we're going to look back on our history, we might as well take into account that we have great cause to seek redemption. We as a people were undeniably involved in the Fall. Taking in this child would not wash our hands clean, though perhaps it’s a start. Besides, she might prove valuable to us. I strongly believe that war will prove inevitable in time. As for the mother, I don’t see the harm.” Frida leaned back in her chair and waved a hand at Ragnar.

  Sol was next. The Earthling witch was a plump woman, though she shared the square features of her kin. Her golden hair was pulled into loops and curls to frame her face, and a long-sleeved violet dress covered slightly more skin than seemed usual for other Earthlings.

  Sol’s appearance was endearing, though she was not what Everine considered pretty. The Earthling witch shared the same penchant for gold adornments as Ragnar. She straightening her dress, crossed her legs and folded both hands on one knee, then stared curiously at Everine.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Everine Vargens of Beregend. I must thank you for the service you have provided us in ensuring Birken’s safe return to the chasm. My fellow council members have raised valid questions. Your child might very well become a burden.”

  Everine remained motionless. Her attention never left Sol’s face. A suffocating pressure built up at the back of her throat. If Ayva was a burden to these Earthlings, then Everine would teach them about burdens. She had a hard time grasping that anyone might find her daughter disposable.

  Sol’s thin lips spread out into a smile. “You don’t look like much of a warrior. But you certainly have a warrior’s heart. For this, I would gladly welcome you into our fold. In regards to your child, however…” Her gaze slid across the basket in Everine’s lap, and she leaned forward. “I would very much like to meet her before I take a stand in this matter.”

  Swallowing her doubts, Everine stood as Ragnar signaled for her to approach Sol. She gently lifted Ayva from the basket and held her in front of the Earthling witch. Sol reached out, placing a hand on Ayva’s head. The baby looked up at her, and a flurry of visions from seasons past flooded Ayva’s eyes.

  Sol gasped. “It is true. I see it now. How are we to pass judgement on you, little one, when it’s you who must pass judgement on us?”

  Ragnar put a hand on Sol’s shoulder as he leaned in to take a peek at Ayva.

  “Those are wise words,” he commented, as Ayva showed him his own images of events long forgotten.

  Sol never took her gaze off the infant, even as she spoke. “Yes, I believe so. Either way, it’s the truth. It’s about time we pulled our heads out from under the earth. This child should be our ally. We would be fools to turn her away and risk making an enemy of her.” Sol moved in closer. She lowered her voice, speaking directly to Ayva.

  “I pledge myself to you, little one. When you're ready, I will serve.”

  Ragnar clapped his hands together. “Fools we might be, and I am inclined to agree with you. We still need to hear a couple more speak before we cast final judgement.”

  Everine relaxed. She was relieved to see Sol so eager to accept them into the fold, though the impact Ayva had on others troubled her. It would be difficult to hide the healer’s premonitions about her daughter this way.

  Thorleif was the only council member who didn't choose to look at Ayva. Frida, on the other hand, abandoned her seat to meet the baby. She narrowed her eyes. “Odd, isn’t she?”

  The three of them had forgotten themselves completely. When Everine grew restless, it was Thorleif who finally cut through the buoyant mood.

  He nearly shouted in his frustration. “Shall we proceed? I believe there are those who have not had their say. Or have you already decided to fall for a mere mirage of visions?”

  “Yes,” Ragnar said. “you're quite right, of course.” He and the women returned to their seats. “Birken, do you have anything to add?”

  Everine took a seat with Ayva once more as Birken stood. His face had taken on that same thoughtful expression she had been drawn to the first day they met. She wondered what part he had played in the matter of the council’s obvious knowledge of Ayva’s powers.

  “I agree with Sol and Frida,” he said. “I, too, have looked into her eyes, and it gave me peace. I’ll make you all the promise to stay here and forgo my usual travels to the outside world for as long as these two remain in the chasm. However, if judgement is passed, and they must go, I regret to inform you I’ll follow them. I intend never to return if I do.”

  Everine was fuming. She had not asked this sacrifice of him, and she didn't expect it. At the same time, she found she didn't want to part from him either. She rarely trusted in anyone like she had Birken. Having spent most of her life fending for her sister, she was hardly accustomed to being cared for by another.

  Thorleif’s brow wrinkled. “You mean to threaten us? You think you're such an asset to our people that we can’t afford to see you go?”

  Birken replied with an air of pity in his voice. “No, my friend, it’s not a threat. I simply state the facts, as well as making my point as to how valuable I deem these two.” He gestured towards Everine and Ayva.

  “We have heard from every member of our council. Now, it’s time to hear our witness,” Ragnar said.

  Everine shifted her attention to the only plausible witness present. The cloaked figure lifted its head, and folded away its hood. A tiny cauldron stood on the table in front of it. Steam poured over the edges. The light reflected off a head of wild, silver hair. Everine’s heart skipped a beat. She had not expected to see Gaija again so soon.

  “What is it that you have witnessed?” Ragnar asked. Everyone turned to the healer.

  Gaija winked at Everine before she faced the council. “I’ve had visions of her past, but—more importantly—also her future. The past is as it is, but the future is always more, well, unpredictable.” She paused for effect, waiting to ensure she had everyone’s undivided attention.

  “Thorleif has a valid point. Ayva might prove to be a cause of grievance for the Earthlings. On the other hand, she is to inherit Aradria if she prevails. Like others here, I too have pledged myself to her, although I expect her chances are slim.”

  Everine frowned. Gaija had never been more annoying. If the healer saw the look on her face, she ignored her.

  “But, I for one am tired of living in this mayhem. Frida is right. War will inevitably come to your doorstep whatever your choice today. We can’t escape our fate, with or without the child.” Gaija bent forward, stretching her arms wide. “The question is—which side will you be on when that time comes?”

  Sol briefly lowered her face. “We made the wrong choice once.” She twined her fingers. Turning to Thorleif, she enquired, “Would you have us repeat our mistakes?”

  An awkward silence hung in the air. At last, Ragnar cleared his throat. “We shall vote. Those in favor, raise a hand.”

  Only Thorleif kept his hands where they were.

  Sol glared at him. “This needs to be unanimous. Please see reason.”

  Everine’s jaw dropped, but she quickly regained her composure. She gripped the basket so hard the strands of red osier bowed inward. Everyone stared at Thorleif.

  Disgruntled, he finally conceded. “Very well. If you're all fixed on such a vote, I’ll allow it. I want it noted, however, that I warned you all.”

  The clerk hammered furiously to record what had happened. Thorleif huffed in annoyance.

  “And don’t you expect me to be happy about it. When the time comes, I’ll not be the one accountable for our demise.”

  15

  The Nutcracker

  - Birken -

  Birken’s elbows rested on his knees as he stared into the chasm. The light was dimming, but he had a good view of his homeland from where he sat on the rock at the edge of the lookout.

  “Why the square face?” Rhastoc startled him, appearing out of nowhere and bounding toward him. Jumping forward, he leaned his paws on B
irken’s thigh and smacked his lips.

  “Why are you here, squirrel?” Birken grunted.

  “Just keeping an eye on you. The wizard wants an update. We tried to cover for you when you killed the guards. But the Zila’r-nath caught your scent and tracked you down—sorry about that.”

  Birken put a hand inside his vest, retrieving a nut. “I only did what the wizard instructed if we were to be exposed.” He shook his head. “Here. I picked this nut when we were hiding in Elfen Lyconis.”

  Bobbing his head, Rhastoc accepted the nut with a crooked grin. His eyes widened as he clawed at the shell of the nut.

  “You could’ve told me who it was you hired me to protect,” Birken said, eyeing the squirrel.

  “We were not entirely sure ourselves. How is she, by the way? The baby.”

  “Her name is Ayva.” Birken angled away from the squirrel, and Rhastoc lost his balance. The squirrel danced on his hind legs and skipped forward, coming to land on Birken’s shoulder.

  “I want no more part of this—no more killing,” Birken said. “I’m staying with them in the chasm.”

  Rhastoc tutted and wrapped his tail gently around Birken’s thick neck. He fell away from Birken’s shoulder to hang upside down.

  “Now, that won’t do, Earthling. you're a bounty hunter, are you not? We want you to continue reporting to us about her progress. Besides, those guards in Arvaex were necessary casualties. We can’t have the king finding out about the baby, don’t you agree? We’re glad you were able to bring them here safely.”

  “The deal is off. I’ll protect them, but on my own terms.”

  “You’ve been paid. A lot.” Rhastoc ground the nut between his teeth before he continued. “At the very least, you owe it to us to report back about what you’ve learned so far. Let me assure you that we only wish to keep her hidden and safe. If we had wanted her exposed, the king’s eyes would have already fallen on Bermunnos.”