Cinders and Fangs

by J. Conrad

  I realized my eyes ached. I was furrowing my brow without even realizing it, and with effort I blinked and softened my expression. I pushed the corners of my mouth into a smile I didn’t feel.

  As Father and Gwyneth said their vows, the ceiling of the modest chapel seemed to tower above me. A cool breeze brushed the back of my neck. Had no one bothered to shut the door after the procession? The chill making the space feel drafty and empty, I folded my arms around my waist to stay warm. I was alone here. Alone in a building full of people.

  I must have drifted into a void of dark thoughts, because the sound of clapping and cheers brought me back. It was like my head shot out of the water just in time to see a ship sinking. Father released Gwyneth from his embrace after their kiss and the happy couple locked hands. I took a deep breath and started clapping my gloved hands together as the two of them walked arm in arm. Father didn’t look at me. Not even now.

  Then it hit me. Yes, I knew Father’s wedding wasn’t about me. It was the fact that I was his daughter and he didn’t even regard me enough to share the moment. When I was accused of declining Gwyneth’s offer to be a bridesmaid, Father wasn’t hurt because I wouldn’t be standing with him. He was hurt because he thought I hurt Gwyneth. He had believed someone he’d known less than a year over me, and now I’d become invisible.

  I took another shallow breath in the corset. To my discredit I had cinched it up as tightly as possible. Gwyneth had already called me ugly and I’d be damned if she called me fat as well. But I had to try and get some air in my lungs, because I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have felt stronger with my new disillusionment about Father and his view of me, but it only made me feel more confused. A hand on my arm made me flinch.

  “Elin,” the odd woman next to me was saying. Her grip tightened on my upper arm. “Elin, come, let’s go outside. You should be the lucky girl who catches the bouquet.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think that is a good idea. And I don’t think Lady Gwyneth wants that.”

  Eiriana raised an eyebrow and she showed too many teeth when she smiled. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll live through it.”

  I started to smile back, before stiffening again. I didn’t know this woman. She was interesting, and she seemed to dislike Gwyneth, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “Come, Elin,” Eiriana said, reaching down and grasping my gloved hand. I still must have been chilled to the bone by the icy winds of fortune, because her grip felt incredibly warm. Too numb to protest, I allowed the strange, silver-haired Eiriana to lead me out of the chapel. She wove us in and out of strings of wedding-goers and right out the door, where people had gathered here and there to throw rice or flower petals.

  Father and Gwyneth had separated into two different groups of congratulators and well-wishers. The bustling, multi-colored skirts of all the women in their best gowns colored the pebbled yard like spring flowers, but the looming grey sky was muting their brightness. There wasn’t much of a breeze, with the autumnal forest walling us off on all sides from the outside world. The fiery trees were hushed and motionless as they hovered over us like sentinels.

  “Elin,” Eiriana repeated, seeming determined to yank me out of my inner world one way or another. She had released my hand and touched my shoulder. “I know this isn’t a good day for you.”

  I swallowed and tore my eyes away from the cluster of people—Father was hidden behind them—and looked at her. “Who are you? What do you want?” The coldness of my voice shocked me.

  “I am your grandmother,” Eiriana said, her voice even and unfaltering. “And I know what Gwyneth is.”

  I know what Gwyneth is. How could she possibly know? I stepped back, wriggling away from her touch. “Then why have I never seen you until today? Why has Father never mentioned you? Why did my mother tell me she lost you long ago? If you are really my grandmother, you sure took your time showing up. My mother was—”

  Eiriana grabbed my arm and stepped closer to me. She put her face by mine and kept her voice low. “Taken. Your mother was taken.”

  My mouth dropped open. I glared at her, knowing well that the idea a stranger believed as I did about my mother was too good to be true. This entire thing must have been arranged by Gwyneth and I wanted no part in it. I wasn’t as gullible as I used to be—little Elin had grown up.

  “I know this is a lot to take in, especially on a day like this,” Eiriana said. “I’m not asking you to trust me. But if you’re willing to give me a chance and not fight against me, I can actually help you. And I think I’m correct in that you need the help.” Without turning her head, her eyes flicked in Gwyneth’s direction and back to me. “I know what she is, Elin. What you’ve discovered about her so far, I also know. And I know a lot more. There are things I could explain to you. If you want to escape this fate, and I think you do, let me help you. You don’t have to trust me. You don’t even have to like me or believe I’m your grandmother. Just let me help you.”

  My heart pounded, and the corset was suffocating me. I didn’t feel cold anymore. Instead I had started sweating and my legs itched. I had never had anyone ask this of me before. To say it was peculiar was an understatement, and she was right—I did need help, whether I wanted to admit it or not. There was no way in hell I was going to trust her, but I had no one else. Slowly, I nodded, frowning at Eiriana as I thought of how to reply.

  “All right,” I said, quickly adding, “perhaps. But I must be careful. I’ve never—” I’ve never had any friends, was what I had almost said. How sad. “I’ve never—”

  “You’ve never wanted to leave home before?” Eiriana asked. How could she have known that? Though I tried to hide it, even from myself, my dread was becoming unbearable.

  Slowly, I nodded. “Yes. And I have nowhere to go.”

  Eiriana smiled. “Of course, child. And take care you should. Not everyone is worthy of our trust, sometimes not even those we love.” She lifted her chin and nodded in the groom’s direction. “But just think. If you were to be married yourself, then you’d have somewhere to go, wouldn’t you?”

  And suddenly, catching Gwyneth’s sickly-sweet lavender and rose bouquet didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

  Chapter 3

  Istood holding the bridal bouquet, wondering if the thing was designed to burst into flames at my touch. Gwyneth turned around and her smile fell as she locked eyes on the girl who had made the good catch. The blushing bride wasn’t blushing now. I guess this wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Annest was at my left, narrowing her eyes at me just as the onlookers cheered my victory. And it did seem a victory in some way, I guess because I had openly done something Gwyneth didn’t like. Not that catching the bouquet really meant anything, it was only a symbol thought to bring good luck.

  I scanned the crowd for Eiriana but didn’t see her now. Father was working his way over to me. He raised his hand to get my attention.

  “Elin,” he said when we were close enough. “Francis will take you home in the carriage. Gwyneth and I will lead in the trap.”

  Pulling into the lane was the trap he mentioned, which had been bedecked with bells and lavender ribbons. Drawn by a white horse in a bearing rein, I vaguely remembered Father telling me about this sometime in the past.

  “Of course, Father,” I said. A rustling at my right made me jump and I turned to see Eiriana coming up alongside me.

  “Talies, my sincerest congratulations,” she said, giving Father a polite curtsy and a deep nod.

  “Thank you,” Father said. “We’re honored that you could share in this day with us. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He tilted his head slightly, a quick flit of his eyes signifying that he was trying to get a good look at her without seeming rude. I watched his expression as he regarded her unusual features.

  “I’m Eiriana Wren, Elin’s maternal grandmother and once your mother-in-law,” she said. So, she was bold enough to hand this story to Father as well. Whatever this woman’s moti
ves, she wasn’t afraid.

  Father’s eyes widened like he’d seen a ghost. For a moment he didn’t speak. “Lady Wren?” he said. “I am truly stunned. My late wife told me she lost her mother as a young woman.” But his subtle frown, and the tick in his jaw told me that he didn’t believe her either—for any number of reasons, but most of all for the simple fact that she was too young. “You...” He put his hand to his chin, and I began mentally putting down words for him. You are beautiful beyond belief, or how about, You are ageless and spellbinding, or maybe, You make weird look good, which was my personal favorite.

  “Not what you expected,” Eiriana finished for him. She smiled, nodding as though she understood his reasons for stammering. “I have the clean country air and a simple life to thank for my good health. It wasn’t always this way, of course. When my husband passed, things were hard for a long time. But, nothing lasts forever, as they say.”

  Father pushed his mouth into a smile and nodded. He held his hands together, regarding her respectfully. “Of course,” he said, and although his voice was even and polite, the confusion in his expression hadn’t disappeared completely. Then he took a deep breath, and something changed. The shadows fell away from his eyes. “Pardon my ineptness, but I was least expecting to meet Elin’s grandmother today, who I’d believed departed from this world. But what a pleasant surprise. It would honor Elin and me for you to visit us at Blaenwood when you have the time. We have much catching up to do! Do you live near Rhedyn Town, or have you traveled here? And how did you hear of the wedding?”

  And then it hit me. Money, that’s what this was about. That was her game. Think of the coincidence of this strange woman’s appearance from nowhere when Father, who wasn’t bad off on his own, marries the wealthy Widow Urien. So, my “grandmother” shows up at just the right time in hopes of securing a piece of the pie for herself. I had to admit, it was clever, and this way she didn’t even have to do any marrying of her own.

  Then I looked at her extravagant, blue gown with all its sparkling sequins and the golden barrettes in her silver locks. My eyes felt drawn once again to her sapphire necklace. She didn’t seem to be wanting for money. And I had never seen anyone with that hair color who appeared so well-preserved. My bright ideas came to a screeching halt. Eiriana was still a total mystery.

  “Not at all, Talies,” she said. “But I’m afraid I don’t live nearby. I have a cottage at Lyntref and I traveled here yesterday. I’m staying at the Spotted Inn, and I would be delighted to spend any length of time with the two of you. But, this can’t be a convenient time. You have a new bride.”

  “It’s no trouble,” Talies said. “Have dinner with us tonight. I’m intrigued. I’m as delighted at the thought that Elin’s maternal grandmother lives, as I’m sure she must be.” He glanced at me. Delight was out of reach for me today, but a woman who didn’t like Gwyneth joining us at the dining room table sounded like a good idea, even if she was a complete enigma.

  Eiriana smiled, nodding in polite acceptance of his offer. I continued to study Father’s expression, but I couldn’t read it. He had gone from “who the hell are you,” to “charmed, be our house guest.” He excused himself, joining a middle-aged couple who had been waiting to speak with him.

  “May I ride with you?” Eiriana asked. “If you don’t mind. That way I won’t have to arrive in a hired carriage and run the risk of being shooed off. Accompanying you will make for a smoother entrance, I think. And this is important, because my presence will vex Gwyneth very much.” She tilted her head down ever so slightly, giving me a snide smile and raising an eyebrow. I laughed against my will, the motion causing the lavender fragrance from the bouquet to waft upwards at me. I had been so caught up watching Father and Eiriana that for a moment I had forgotten I was holding it.

  “Yes, of course,” I said. I glanced down, wondering what to do with the flowers. I would have to dispose of them before we left.

  Around us, the crowd was breaking up. People were getting their horses ready or having their carriages pulled around to the pebbled lane. The clouds hadn’t thinned, but there was no hint of rain yet. The cool air smelled like leaves, roses and of course, lavender. I watched as Father helped Gwyneth into the decorated trap. I frowned as I noticed Annest and Dafina right behind her. Annest craned her neck around as she waited for her mother to secure her billowing skirts inside. My stepsister was looking for someone. She stopped swiveling when her eyes alighted on me—I was the someone. Annest smiled before she turned and pulled herself up into the carriage. So, she and Dafina were riding in back with the newlyweds.

  My eyes ached, an unwelcome tightness in my chest making me pause. If not for Eiriana’s strange appearance in my life, I would be riding home alone.

  “Come,” Eiriana said, noticing I was having trouble looking away. “We can talk in the carriage.”

  I nodded, turning my back on the latest betrayal which had happened in plain sight. I held out the bridal bouquet, a prickling heat making its way up my neck. I wanted to turn around and throw it at them, to see it slap one of them in the face and fall apart. And if it managed to hit Father, that was okay too.

  “Here, child. Give it to me,” Eiriana said. She glanced at me hopefully, holding out her hand.

  “It might catch on fire,” I mumbled.

  “Not if I put it in this,” she said. Eiriana tugged at her shoulder and pulled off the silk shawl. With nimble fingers she picked at the seam, pulling the delicate fabric apart to show that it was really a bag of some sort. “Here,” she said, holding it open for me. “Drop it in.”

  I stared at her but held out the bouquet and dropped it inside. Eiriana quickly squeezed out any excess air and secured the top with a knot. She hadn’t questioned my statement about the flowers spontaneously combusting. I know what Gwyneth is.

  “Do you really know what she is?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Eiriana said. Her smile had vanished as we started toward our awaiting carriage. “And I also know what you are.”

  Chapter 4

  As the wheels of the carriage rolled along on the short journey home, my hands were so sweaty I had to remove my gloves and retrieve my handkerchief from the carry pouch under my skirt. All I could think about was Father finding out about my special ability. What would he say if he knew? Things were bad enough already.

  “What do you mean, you know what I am?” I asked.

  “Because you’re my granddaughter, you must have gifts. You may only be aware of one, or you may be aware of many. But you certainly have them. Your mother had gifts too, of course.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, sharply turning my head away and staring out the window. “I think you have me confused with someone else.” She knows. My God, she knows.

  “Elin, as I said, you don’t need to trust me, but there is no reason to lie. I already know. I know that Gwyneth is a witch. And I know that you have gifts, because you are my blood.”

  “Lady Wren, I can assure you, I have no gifts save for an innate ability to displease my elders,” I said.

  Eiriana cast her eyes down at her lap. “Very well. I don’t blame you for keeping it to yourself. I hope that one day you’ll feel safe enough to tell me. Perhaps instead you’ll share the story of when my daughter was taken—of when your mother was lost,” she said.

  The little girl who had died long ago, who had been suffocated and shut away forever wanted very badly to answer. This odd woman with her bright blue eyes, who “knew” Gwyneth was a witch stood a far better chance of believing me than anyone I had ever met. But even she would not—could not—believe what I had witnessed and experienced that day. The sensible Elin, who sat beside her, knew better and kept her mouth shut.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, it was very long ago, and I don’t remember well,” I said. It wasn’t true, of course. Out of necessity for my sanity, I suppressed those memories, but I would never be able to forget.

  The giant, black wolf had carried
me to the end of a passageway which opened to a small hollow within dense shrubbery and vines. She had turned and gone back to the woods, leaving me there. I couldn’t see much, but I had heard whimpering. Puppies. Father had always told me it was dangerous to be near a female wild animal with young. Mothers were fierce protectors, he had said, and they would do anything to keep their babies from harm, even if I intended none. Remembering this, I had halted before the hollow, lingering as I wondered what to do. As my eyes had become accustomed to the weak light, an ordinary, black wolf entered the tunnel—the mother? She had gone inside the hollow and crouched down to lick her young. Looking up, she had bounded back to me.

  She had licked my face and words came into my mind. Come. You will be safe here.

  “You want me here,” I had said. “Are you a friend of the great wolf who helped me?”

  I am an enemy of those who hunt you, the wolf had thought to me.

  When I had stepped into the cozy den that smelled a lot like dog fur and straw, I noticed a larger shape off to the side. My breath catching in my throat, I had started to back away. Was that the father wolf? What if my presence angered him? Then I had looked more closely. No, it wasn’t a wolf at all. It was a human, a man. It was—

  “Father!” I had said, half-whispering. I hadn’t believed the sight, and my voice trembled. Father had been lying on his side with his head on the ground like he was asleep. I had knelt beside him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Father, are you all right? I thought I’d lost you.” He hadn’t stirred, so I put my hand on his chest to see if I could feel a heartbeat. I had felt one, faint and slow, but it was there. I had let out a shaky, raspy breath. Father was here, and he was alive. How was this possible? Had the wolf rescued him as well? I had noticed that his mouth was no longer gagged, and his hands were unbound.

  The whimpering behind me had grown to fervent whining, and some of the puppies started yipping. Their shrill voices had hurt my ears, so I crawled a few feet closer to see what they were so upset about. I had noticed the mother wolf had vanished. The puppies had scampered to me, clambering all over each other and climbing into my lap. They had clawed my dress, licked my face, and walked on me with their wiggly bodies. I had counted five in total. Two had been black, two had been brown, and one had been grey, or that had been my best guess in the dim light.