“I thought you would’ve gone to the Capitol,” Elora said.
“So much happened,” Tina said. “After your father died, I couldn’t imagine just leaving with you alone out there. We all thought the Ice Witch would let you go. I hoped. Then it was too late. The Dealer refused to let anyone outside of the Tank to pass through the sigil to the Capitol. The only way there is through the interior of the Sector.”
“Aunt Tina, you’ve made that journey dozens of times.”
“When I was younger, braver.” Tina gave a soft laugh.
As a child, the tales of Tina’s journeys had fascinated Elora, much to her mother’s horror. Looking back on those stories now, Elora could see hints of truth within them but more often than naught, Tina’s tales had been spun with the fabric of Inuit legends. Inuit legends telling of a past full of giants. While Tina had a tale or two with the hulking, cannibal Greater Giants, most were of her meetings with the Lesser Giants as she navigated the interior and faced off against the sometimes cruel wrath of those giants.
“But now, the passage is even more dangerous,” Tina continued, turning serious. “When the Ice Witch tore the shield, it had devastating effects along the shoreline. Tank forces were called from the interior to help. So many lives lost. There’s nary a soul in the village who went untouched.”
Guilt stabbed at Elora. How had she never considered the scale of devastation she’d left behind her? On the island, she’d only thought of Mason and her father. She only thought of herself. Even when Mason and Norm had spoken to her about what happened, she hadn’t grasped the vastness of the damage she’d left in the wake of her foolish prank.
“The entire barrier is weakened,” Tina said. She must’ve seen something in Elora’s face that spoke of the guilt consuming her because she reached over and grasped Elora’s hand in hers. “The Ice Witch was just part of it. The Regent grows old; the power in her magic is fading. The breach along the Sound was only the beginning. There are tales of ravagers roaming the interior, and there is fear she will pass before a new Regent is selected.”
The death of a Regent was nothing new. Since the divide, there’d been eleven Regents, yet never had the sector been left with no Regent. It was a possibility that no one wanted to face. The Regent was responsible for creating a barrier between the sector and Ravagers territory. When one Regent passed, the next was already there, prepared to erect their shield before the full strength of the old Regent’s magic vanished. Without a Regent, the shield would be gone.
“What of the Capitol?” Elora asked.
“It’s the only area in the sector that is safe. The Mage and the Tank forces have managed to maintain the shield.” Tina squeezed her hand and gave a soft smile. Elora’s heart ached as she caught a glimpse of her father. “Your mother is still there.”
Elora supposed she should have been relieved to hear that, but the two of them had never been close. Nancy had left when Elora reached her ninth birthday. Her parents had given her a choice, and Elora had no problem deciding to stay in Ironshore. Living under her mother’s controlling thumb had been even less appealing than the idea of living in the frozen tundra of the North.
A loud thump on the bar top drew their eyes over to Norm. He was pouring a mug of ale and with his head gestured to the two plates of food. Elora walked over to grab the plates and cutlery, then returned to her aunt.
“How have you been?” she asked Tina, wanting to avoid any more talk of her mother.
“I may not have ever gotten along with your mother, but she loves you.”
Elora shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
“All right, I won’t press.”
“Now, tell me how you’ve been.”
The two women spent the next hour reminiscing. When they’d finished their lunch, they stood, and Elora pulled Tina into another embrace.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what, dear?”
“For forgiving me.” They hadn’t discussed her father’s death but it was there between them and yet Tina had put it aside.
She watched from the doorway of the pub as Tina made her way back up to the eastern end of the village. When she could no longer see her aunt, she turned back to find Norm studying her. Ignoring the question in his eyes, she gathered the dishes from the table, carried them into the back room, and loaded them into the sink with all the others left from the morning. She filled the other side of the split sink with hot water and poured in a detergent then began washing.
Norm was a fair man—a practical man. He didn’t suffer fools or freeloaders. Unfortunately for Elora, she had no money, no goods to trade, and her lack of practical skills left her little service she could offer. Oh, he was willing to trade for food, but he wasn’t willing to give it away for free. On her third day, he told her that from then on if she wanted to eat, she’d be doing the morning dishes. It was an arrangement she willingly accepted.
“How’s Tina doing?” Norm asked as he brought in a tray full of dirty dishes, plunking them onto the counter beside her. “She don’t come in here too often anymore.”
“She says she’s fine.” Elora paused with her hands in the warm water. “She’s grown old. In my mind, she was always the same. It’s like my father and Mason. When I was gone, I imagined everything just stopped and that when I returned everything would be the same. My father would be alive, Mason would—” She stopped herself.
Under the watchful eye of Norm, she scrubbed another plate clean and dipped it into the rinse water. When she’d finished, she hung up the towel and trudged back to her cabin.
Was this really her life? If her father were still alive, there would’ve been hope for training on the use of magic to heal. But with no other healer in town, she had no way to learn the art. For now, this was her life.
Each day, she and Tina met for lunch at the pub, and Elora learned bits and pieces of what life had become for the people in Ironshore. Their distance from the Capitol or any other larger city had always left them struggling to survive, but as the Regent aged, the Council had closed in on the Capitol and those in the North had been left to fend for themselves.
After meeting with her aunt, Elora would set into cleaning the lunch-time dishes before heading back home. She let herself believe that she could continue this way, pretending she didn’t mind the work. It kept her busy, giving her a chance to get out of the cabin. It wasn’t until two weeks had passed that she was forced to face her doubts again.
Tina had just left the pub, and Elora was scraping food scraps into the compost when Norm came into the kitchen. He parked himself in the doorway, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest while watching her.
“What are you doing here, girl?” Norm asked.
Her brows pulled down in confusion. “Cleaning the dishes.”
“You know that ain’t what I meant. Everything you had is gone. Why are you still here?”
He was right. What was holding her there? She had no home, and other than Tina, she had no family. And as long as Mason refused to search for his soul, she had no love. Was she simply waiting for him to change his mind and suddenly decide she was right? That he would find the love inside of him despite having no soul? Waiting for such a day was worse than pointless, it was torture.
Tina had suggested more than once that perhaps life with her mother in the Capitol would offer her a chance to start new with no constant reminders to shame her. Yet each time, Elora had balked at the idea.
When she didn’t answer, Norm simply shook his head and went back out front. Elora finished the cleaning, then tossed the dirty rags into the laundry hamper outside the back entrance. She loaded up a clean plate with her dinner, covering it with a napkin, and walked back to her cabin.
After placing the food in her icebox, she filled a cup with cold coffee and wrapped her hands around the side of the mug.
“Calor potum ijintuk,” she recited the incantation, then watched as steam began to rise from the liqu
id. It was a little spell she’d made up a few days before while testing her magic.
With her warm mug of coffee, she went out to the front porch. It was a narrow space, only a few feet wide with a single rocking chair. She curled herself onto the chair and sipped her coffee, looking out at the shoreline. It was easy to spot Mason’s post. It was the closest to the remnants of the ice bridge.
This section of the shoreline perimeter was nearly twenty miles long. Each guard had their own post spread out across the perimeter. The further the posts were from the village, the further apart they were. The ravagers, able to sense the presence of humans, congregated near communities.
The posts were designed similar to a hunting lookout with a raised platform, ladder, with an inuksuk and rune stone at the base. She had seen a few of the posts with chairs on the platform for the guards to rest during their shift. Not Mason’s. He stood in the center of the platform, his bolt clutched in his right hand.
She stared at him, taking in the stillness of his form. Growing up, Mason had been filled with energy, always on the go. It had been one of the things his father constantly lectured him on. A Tank needs to know how to stand. A Tank doesn’t make any unnecessary movement. His father’s words had only pushed Mason on in his determination not to join the Tank force. Now he was still. Six years of stillness—was it any different than six years of isolation? If he did get his soul back, would he continue to be still?
A movement in her peripheral vision turned her attention to the station house where Gregory was entering. The heavy weight she’d been carrying had only settled deeper in the days she’d been there. Her freedom had become her burden.
She placed her mug on the porch railing and rose from the chair. She walked over to the station house, up the steps, and with a brisk knock, pushed open the door.
Gregory sat at the table in the center of the room, a half-finished plate of food pushed to the side so he could continue his paperwork. From her place just inside the doorway, Elora could see the papers were maps of the sector. She’d never been privy to the details of the Tank force, few were, but the glaring spots of red along the border were enough to know these maps pinpointed the presence of ravagers.
“I have better things to do than watch you stand there. Speak your piece,” Gregory ordered.
Elora rubbed her hands along the coarse wool of her skirt as a fleeting doubt caused her to hesitate. Then, steeling her resolve, she curled her hands into fists and stepped up to the edge of the table.
“I would like to go to the Capitol.”
Gregory sat back and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Ready to face the charges against you?”
“If I must.”
In truth, she’d put the thought of facing the Council out of her mind as she struggled to adjust to life back in civilization—as simple as it was in a village of less than a thousand. But even the threat of the Council and the fate she faced if found guilty wasn’t enough to deter her from leaving Ironshore. Staying meant spending every day confronting the reality of Mason’s decision, and she refused to put herself through that misery.
If she could get to the Capitol and speak to the Regent, there might be a way to save Mason from himself. And if the Regent refused, then at least she would be able to start over.
“You’re in luck,” Gregory said, the slight smile curling his lips was as empty as the gaze he fixed upon her. “An increased presence at the barrier is required. I cannot afford to take leave for the journey. I’ve petitioned the Regent for a full pardon on the basis that you eliminated the threat of Niobe.”
Shock, followed immediately by suspicion, coursed through Elora. On the surface, Gregory’s decision sounded logical, and someone unfamiliar with the man might have even considered it generous, but she knew better.
“I would still like to go,” she pressed. “My mother is there and there will be an opportunity for me to learn skills. I have little to offer Ironshore.”
Gregory leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. For a long moment, the two of them simply stared at each other.
“I noticed you speaking with your aunt this morning. Tina has been a valuable member of this village. She’s always possessed an adventurous and determined spirit. Traits you once shared with her.”
“My time with Niobe has cured me of those.”
“Has it? I suspect your decision to go to the Capitol has more to do with a desire to speak to the Regent than to see a mother who abandoned you as a child.”
Elora pressed her lips together. Denial amounted to lying, and that was an offense the Dealer could punish without the Council’s approval.
“Your request to relocate is denied, and until the Regent approves of your pardon, you are restricted to the village.” Gregory pushed his plate toward her and dropped his gaze to the maps before him.
Elora’s eyes flicked from Gregory to the plate. His slight action told her all that she needed to know. He had no intention of letting her go to the Capitol to convince the Regent to get Mason’s soul back, and her place here would be no more than a servant at the pub.
Pride stiffening her back, she spun around and stomped out the door and back to her cabin. The door slammed shut behind her, and she winced as the sound filled her small space. The emptiness of her cabin only reaffirmed her realization that staying in Ironshore was no longer an option. She just had to find a way to get around the Dealer’s orders and survive while she did it.
6
A sharp crack followed by the vivid flare of blue light streaking up the barrier signaled the arrival of more ravagers. For nearly a month now, ever since Mason opened the shield for Elora, the beasts had been gathering, testing its strength. Hidden within the water, it was impossible to know the exact number, but the near constant flashes along the barrier were enough to know the number was great.
Mason craned his head to the side and squeezed his shoulder blades together, then resumed his alert stance. The motions were uncommon for him and a symptom of his physical response to the increased hours at his post. While most guards found post duty boring, Mason accepted it, staring at the shimmering cloak that separated the monsters from the humans.
To his left, he noted the arrival of one of the guards at their post a mile down the shoreline. He waited until a burst of red pierced the sky before allowing himself to turn from the ravagers. He climbed down the first four rungs of the ladder then dropped the last six. He placed his hand on the rune stone and spoke the words that would activate the protection spell.
He walked along the rocky path back to the village, and as he approached the Station House, he saw Elora storm from the building and across to her cabin. Her fury was unmistakable as she made short brisk movements. If he’d had any doubt, the slamming of her door would have cleared it up.
Mason’s gaze flickered from the Station House to where Elora had disappeared. Standard operating procedure dictated he check in with the Dealer before going off duty. Official Protocol, however, gave him leave to simply go home. While the Dealer would be irritated, there was little he could do to reprimand Mason for not checking in.
Veering to the right, he made his way up to Elora’s cabin. When he reached the door, he hesitated, not from any sense of nervousness, but to collect his thoughts. It had been an impulse to come, and he wasn’t sure for what purpose. There was mild curiosity, wondering what happened between her and the Dealer that had incited such fury from her. But the warmth that settled in his gut told him his decision was much more basic.
Each night, he went to bed with the memory of her body pressed to his, tasting the sweet honey of her lips. As much as he’d like to put her entirely from his thoughts, his body refused, frequently prodding him with fleeting sensations that reminded him of her presence and his lack of companionship.
Relieving his body’s desires with Luce made the most sense. She was convenient and wouldn’t make demands of him that were impossible for him to fulfill. But even if his body would
cooperate, Luce had decided she wasn’t interested in the idiot who let Elora back in.
His knuckles rapped on the door three times and then he dropped his hand back to his side. The door flew open, and he found himself staring at Elora’s slight form. She’d made some sort of effort to contain her curls, yet there was a little she could do to completely control them and stray strands fluttered around her face.
“Mason,” she said with a type of breathless surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Eyebrows drawn low over his eyes, Mason considered the question and realized he still couldn’t come up with an answer.
“What business did you have with the Dealer?” he asked.
She wiped her delicate hands along her skirt at the hips, then folded her arms over her chest. The stance pressed her breasts together and up, straining the thin material of her top.
“We were speaking of when I would go to the Capitol. He’s asked the Council for a pardon because he can’t afford the time away from the barrier.”
Mason nodded. The Dealer’s decision was expected. Even with the teleportation sigil, a trip to the Capitol could take weeks. Nick’s continued absence was evidence of that.
“And you're not pleased with his decision?”
“I am.” Her green eyes flickered to the side before she turned them back to him. “I told him I still wanted to go—to see my mother. He refused.”
She watched him closely, perhaps trying to find some type of reaction from him in his face. Those wild strands of hair swept across her cheeks as she shook her head.
“I’ve traded one prison for another. Your father has decided that I’m to stay here. Indefinitely.”
As predictable as the older man was, that was unexpected. Yet, it wasn’t Mason’s place to question the Dealer.
“There’s a lot you’ll need to prepare before winter settles in,” he said. “Have you spoken with your aunt? Perhaps she would let you stay with her.”
Winter Souls: an Adult Paranormal Witch Romance: Sector 10 (The Othala Witch Collection) Page 5
