“I’d love to learn more,” she replied. “Niv is a far better cook than I. It’d be nice to be able to create something I’m proud of.”
“Be proud of every meal you make,” Mauria said. “Even if it’s just beans and biscuits.”
“I think a lot of it has to do with who you’re cooking for,” she said.
“Or with,” Mauria added.
She cut the biscuits and put them in the oven to bake, then took a seat at the kitchen table. The two barely had a moment to converse before they heard a knock at the door. She went to the foyer, but before she could turn the doorknob, Mauria stopped her.
Mauria looked out the window. “It’s a strange man. I don’t know who he is. Let’s leave. He’ll go away.”
“But—”
“Kytis doesn’t like visitors,” Mauria said.
She sighed and looked out the window. “I’m letting him in.”
She opened the door and smiled. “Hello, Aiden.”
Aiden wiped the sweat from his brow. Dust clung to his hair and his clothes were covered in grass stains and mud. “Oh, am I glad to see you, Shareis.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“This is Kytis’s house, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “This is my mother, Mauria. Mom, this is my friend, Aiden.”
“Pleased to meet you. Shareis, can we… talk?”
“I would invite you inside, but Kytis has a rule against visitors while he’s away,” Mauria said.
Aiden sighed. “I’m sure he does. We can talk out here.”
“Why don’t you and your friend talk on the porch,” Mauria said. “I’ll make you both a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Aiden replied. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I get a glass of water instead? I’d rather not have hot tea on a warm day like this.”
Mauria nodded. “Of course. I’ll be out shortly.”
Aiden sat on a chair, slowly sinking into it with an expression of relief.
“Sore?” she asked.
“You have no idea. The saddle on my horse is terrible. And I didn’t have time to pack proper camping supplies.”
“Have time?” she asked. “Wait… you never answered me—what’s wrong?”
“Our suspicions are true—Kytis is wreaking havoc in Selandis.”
She moved to the edge of her chair. “Is Niv alright?”
“Niv hasn’t returned from the grove. But he’s charmed Frasie, and Olivia is terribly sick.”
“Oh no,” she said. “What’s wrong with Olivia?”
“We don’t know. Kytis tried to help, but she almost committed suicide. I say tried because I think he just made it worse. Hell, he could be behind it.”
“Maybe Niv can heal her.”
“I don’t think so. Emira couldn’t help. It’s something in her mind, I think. I don’t know.”
“In her mind?”
“She’s been deprived of pleasure. She can’t feel anything. I don’t understand it myself.”
“Oh, that is very dangerous for a Skilla,” she said. “Another Skilla might be able to assist her.”
“Well, the only other Skilla I know in Selandis is Kytis, and he’s clearly not helping,” he said. “He’s only making things worse.”
Mauria came outside and set their drinks on a small table between them. Aiden downed his glass of water in one gulp.
“Another?” Mauria asked.
“No, thank you.” He awkwardly paused while Mauria stood next to them.
“If you two need privacy…”
“You're welcome to stay, but you may hear… unflattering things about Kytis,” she said.
Mauria hesitated a moment, then sat in an empty chair next to them. “The man is not perfect.”
Aiden seemed confused.
“Kytis has been a big help to my mother,” she said.
“I see. With all due respect, Mauria, Kytis is a monster.”
Mauria took a deep breath but remained silent.
“You said he charmed Frasie,” she said. “What has he had her do?”
“Frasie has turned against me,” he replied. “He somehow convinced her to allow him to paint a nude picture of her.”
“Frasie?”
“Yes! I couldn’t believe it. He said it was to help heal Olivia.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Was she completely nude, in a reclined position?” Mauria asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“Did he tell her that the painting would bolster her confidence?”
“Well… no, not that one, anyway. He drew a picture of her she said made her feel sensual. Like a real woman. She can be insecure about that sort of thing. I think he knew that, somehow. He’s taking advantage of her.”
“But he did use magic when he painted her, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
Mauria stood and walked to the door. “I’ll be back.”
In a few moments Mauria returned carrying a large painting. Mauria turned the canvas around. “Does this look familiar to you, Aiden?”
She stood and approached the artwork. “That’s… Frasie… or—"
“No, it’s not Frasie,” Aiden interrupted. “But she looks very much like her. Who is this?”
“This is his wife, Rachel,” Mauria replied. “She died a few years ago.”
“Died from what?” she asked.
“We weren’t entirely sure,” Mauria replied. “He brought in healers from all around, but none found any treatment that worked. She gradually lost energy and became terribly listless. Nothing interested her, and nothing could appease her. Eventually, she passed on in her sleep.”
“That sounds like what is happening to Olivia!” Aiden exclaimed.
“He painted countless portraits of her, all in the nude,” Mauria said. “This was the only one he kept.”
“If he’s laid a finger on Frasie—”
“I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it,” Mauria said. “Would you like some biscuits, Aiden?”
His frown eased slightly. “I would, actually. Thank you.”
“They should be ready now. I’ll bring us out a plate.”
“Kytis is not her favorite subject, is he?” Aiden asked.
“My mother is loyal,” she replied. “Perhaps to a fault.”
“He always has an ample supply of defenders,” he said.
Mauria returned with a spread of biscuits, honey, jam, and butter and served it on the outdoor table on the porch. Aiden kept his thoughts on Kytis to himself while they ate.
“This was delicious,” Aiden said. “Thank you.”
Maura looked at Shareis and smiled. “My daughter and I baked them.”
“They’re the best I’ve ever had.”
Mauria began to clear the plates, but Aiden stopped her. “You don’t have to get up. Please, allow me.”
“There’s no need, I can—”
“Let Aiden and I handle this,” Shareis interrupted.
Mauria eased back in her chair. “Alright.”
She and Aiden brought the dishes to the kitchen and set them to soak in the sink. Before they returned, she showed him Kytis’s dark paintings.
“Kytis could stand to get a bit more sun,” Aiden said.
“He certainly has a flair for the dramatic.”
Why so many wolves?”
“He’s a half-Druid.”
Aiden gasped. “Are you saying he can shapeshift into a wolf like Farius becomes an owl?”
“There’s no way to know for certain, but it’s likely.”
She heard Mauria call her from the porch. “A young lady is here.”
She and Aiden returned to find Frasie standing on the front porch steps, transfixed by the portrait of Rachel.
Chapter 51
Niv, in her vixen form, sat at the edge of the grove, looking out into the dense forest. Contemplation was a completely different experience as a fox. Instead of a whirlpool of thought and doubt,
her mind focused on broader themes, providing clarity to her dilemmas. Her animal mindset placed less emphasis on human morality and adhered to the seemingly uncaring rules of nature.
She still had emotions, of course. In fact, some weighed more heavily than as a human. But her diminished ego allowed her to pay attention to more of who she was rather than what others thought of her. The senseless rebuke by Maeva and the anguish from the shard of amulet brought her human self to tears but garnered a diminished response as a fox.
She wasn’t quite sure why the pain from the amulet’s shard seemed less intense as a vixen, but it was a welcome escape. Her dreams were now filled with images, sounds, and smells from events that transpired long before her birth. The physical wound in her chest diminished, but the emotional scar, combined with her mother’s disapproval, felt heavier by the day.
The other Druids, including Lyndoni and Farius, gave her a wide berth after the ritual. Perhaps they sensed her wishes. She needed time to heal, and, at least for now, being alone seemed the best way to accomplish this. Regardless, she noticed, and appreciated, a consistent wave of healing being sent her way.
She didn’t want to return to Farius or Lyndoni, so she planned to find a nice spot to sleep among the trees in the grove. She lifted her paw and started to bathe when a beautiful owl descended from the trees and landed a few feet beside her.
“Nothing quite matches the non-human perspective, does it?” her father asked telepathically. “However, human solutions require human discussion.”
Farius shifted into his human form and patted her on the head. She lifted her nose, and he scratched her chin. After a moment, she turned back into a human.
“I love chin scratches,” she said.
“We Druids are lucky. We are blessed to experience two lifetimes in one—two distinct personalities, preferences, and sets of emotions. It is difficult for those who do not shape shift to understand what it means to become another creature.”
“I used to think your owl form was simply a sort of disguise,” she said. “Now I know you become the animal.”
“Our perspectives and biases cloud our judgement. It is a symptom of conditioning, ignorance, or both.”
His clever example didn’t change her mind about Mae. Her mother’s disapproval hurt, and she had a hard time bringing logic to the situation.
“Must I justify who I love to my own mother?”
“You should be exactly who you want to be. There is no greater harm you can do to the world than to not be yourself. I am merely pointing out your mother comes from a different background and has focused on different priorities. To her, the leadership of the order is the most important thing in her life.”
“I understand that,” she said. “But it does not justify her racism or bigotry.”
He sighed. “No, it does not. I am very disappointed with how she treated you.”
She started to pace in frustration. “It’s not just our last argument. She has misled me or disapproved of me for most of my life. I understand her wanting to protect me from Vorea, but she shouldn’t have hidden my magical heritage.”
“I understand how you feel.”
“I have come to terms with her deception, but I cannot ignore the fact she used me and the amulet to do her bidding.” She scoffed. “The amulet and the order were the first things on her mind after freeing her.”
“She cares deeply,” he said. “But she does not always show it. As for Vorea, stopping her was not her bidding. It had to be done.”
“I know, but she could have been forthright.”
“She and I do not agree on everything,” he said. “Her methods, at times, I find ineffectual or even disruptive. But I have never doubted her love—for either of us. She is an imperfect soul who would not think twice about risking her life for us, just as you did for her when you freed her.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I understand your anger and frustration. I feel it too.”
“I can understand her distrust of Shareis after what she did to her, but I think it wouldn’t have been that much different had it been another Proctor. It’s easy to tell she doesn’t like them.”
“It is an old hatred. Her father was killed in the Proctor Wars, and I suspect that plays a large role in her feelings. I tell you this not to justify her words.”
“I don’t know what bothers her more—the fact that I’m with a Proctor or that I’m with a woman.”
“Your sexuality is not a direct concern of hers. The old Order of the Ael’Shanar, before your reformative efforts, was greatly concerned with hereditary leadership. Having an heir was important to them, and thus her.”
“And I need a man to do that? That is backward thinking. Shareis and I are capable of having a child. And our relationship is no less important because we both have the same parts.”
“Do not put words in my mouth,” he said. “And I do not think that is exactly what she means.”
“You can’t speak for her, so there’s no use in trying.”
He looked at the ground. “I know. I love you both so much. It pains me to see you at odds.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Her pointed words sent a spark of pain through her wound.
“It was a poor choice of words on my part. Please forgive me.”
She sighed. “It’s alright. I understand. You love her.”
“Do you not?” he asked.
“Yes. But I cannot accept her in my life if she cannot accept me.”
He smiled.
“Why are you grinning?”
He opened his arms, inviting a hug. “I am proud of you, Niv’leana.”
She fell into his embrace. Knowing that he accepted her for who she was, and had pride in her expression of self, warmed her soul.
“I love you.”
“And I love you. I will try to reason with your mother but cannot make any promises.”
“It’s not your job to change her mind.”
“No, but I want to. For you.”
She pulled away and dried a tear.
“When will you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Remember, time has no meaning here. You will return to the world the moment you entered the grove.” He rested his hand on her face. “Make it tomorrow afternoon.”
She nodded. “I will. For you.”
Chapter 52
Frasie pointed at the painting. “Who is this?”
“Her name was Rachel,” Shareis said. “Kytis’s departed wife.”
“She… She looks just like me.”
“Close,” Shareis said.
She was terribly confused. “I don’t understand. Aiden, Shareis, why did you come here?”
Shareis and Aiden exchanged glances, then Shareis spoke. “I came here to learn more about Kytis. Aiden joined us today.”
She pointed to the woman standing next to Shareis. “Are you Kytis’s present wife?”
“I’m Mauria, Shareis’s mother. And no, I am not married to him. I take care of his house.”
She stumbled to an empty seat on the porch and buried her head in her hands. “I don’t understand.”
Aiden knelt next to her. “We don’t have all the pieces to this puzzle either, Frasie. But we know something is terribly wrong, and you and Olivia are in danger.”
“Me?” she asked. “How could I be in danger?”
“Kytis charmed you,” he said.
“What?” She shook her head. “No, that can’t be.”
“Every time you’re near him you think he can do no wrong, even when he’s clearly hurting someone.” Aiden lowered his voice. “He even charmed you into taking your clothes off for him.” Aiden pointed to the painting. “Just like his wife.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Kytis seems to be an expert in Pictomancy,” Shareis said.
“Pictomancy?”
“He can cast spells through drawing and painting,” Shareis replied. “He can bolster spirits, boost sexuality, fertility, o
r even draw power from you.”
“Whoever he paints is at the mercy of his brush,” Aiden added.
“He said he was trying to help Olivia,” she said. “He pulled power from me to give to her. It seemed to work. She’s doing much better.”
“She is?” Aiden asked. “That’s a relief.”
“Yes. We even ate breakfast together in the cafeteria. She’s the one who convinced me to find you.”
“I see…” Aiden said.
“I told you—the painting was to help Olivia.”
“That still doesn’t explain why he charmed you,” Shareis said.
“I… I don’t know. I’m not even sure he did.”
“Who suggested it?” Aiden asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Him, I think. It’s all so cloudy.”
“Are most of your memories with Kytis this cloudy?” Shareis asked.
“Well… I don’t know. Some, maybe.”
Aiden sighed. “Each time Frasie resisted, he charmed her.”
“You don’t know that for sure!”
“It’s not an unreasonable guess based on the evidence,” Shareis said.
Mauria stepped forward. “What you both seem to miss in these theories is a motive. Why would Kytis want to charm Frasie or harm Olivia?”
“Because he’s a bastard,” Aiden said.
Mauria frowned at Aiden.
A sudden wave of realization washed over Shareis’s face. “Wait… tell me, who killed Narelle?”
“Olivia,” she replied.
“And Mom, who was Narelle?”
“Kytis’s mother.”
Aiden clapped his hands. “That’s it. He wants revenge! Why didn’t we see this earlier?”
“That doesn’t explain wanting to charm and paint Frasie,” Mauria said.
“Frasie reminds him of his wife,” Aiden said.
Shareis took a step toward her. “Frasie, Rachel, his wife, died of mysterious causes. Healers could find no specific disease. Her last days were filled with apathy and depression. She was confined to bed, and eventually died in her sleep.”
She reluctantly pieced together their words. They made a convincing case, but she knew Kytis. He tried to help Olivia and made her feel better. Why would anyone so awful do those things? “There has to be another explanation.”
“Maybe there is,” Shareis said. “Perhaps it’s time we confronted him.”
Olivia Page 19
