“But how?”
“Aos Si, the fae folk,” Magda barked from the confines of her traveling abode, “Sad, really. Was but a little one myself when it happened, but the wood, it talks, never forgets, told me so. Humans tore it down, made firewood of the unsuspecting doorway to the Hill. Funny now, I guess, that it was fashioned into a plain ol’ door,” she gave it a good rap with her cane, “in the end, hm?”
“The hill? Talking wood?” Uh-hm... If there was ever a time to make tracks, Nugget, old girl, now was it.
My foot went down a step, on the verge of a very quiet retreat, maybe a scramble followed by a run, but my senses cranked up and the door gave off a low hum of vibration under my touch, a sharp zap zipping through me.
“The Hill. Underhill. Fae folk. Yes. Yes. But talking wood? No. Hah! I said it ‘talks’, didn’t say it talks. You see?” Angling herself just so, she tilted her chin towards the faded wood. Her shape shimmered for a minute—small, heart shaped face, pointed chin, glittering gold green eyes—quicker than a blink, but I convinced myself it must have been a trick of the light. “No lips or eyes, but the story is told. Won’t not be told. Old magic runs deep, kisses the roots.” Head dipping back in and popping out again moments later, Magda’s eyes narrowed on me, wrinkle lined face crinkling just so.
“Uhm, sorry. Don’t believe I do.” I took another giant step back, foot slipping on the wrung. Righting myself quickly, my hand fisted the step right above me.
Magda leaned down, gaze bright. “Wouldn’t be leaving so soon, would ye, bonded of Bektam?”
Stilling, my eyes shot up and I rushed up the steps. “What do you know of Troll?” I demanded, my tone much harsher than I’d intended. “Do you know where he is? Can I- can you help me find him? Is he here?” My eyes bounced around and I would have leapt off the sturdy wooden steps, rushing in search of him, but her hand, grip sure and strong, snagging my wrist in an iron tight grasp before I’d even made the first bound, held me.
“Don’t know anything about any whereabouts, don’t know anything at all, actually. That’s the name I was told to address you by. Said it would get you to listen.”
My hand clasped over hers and I let her lead me inside. “Who did? When? Just now? Are they still here, I-”
Flapping her hands as her gaze darted around frantically, scowling, she tried to quiet me down, but I was already babbling by that point. Snapping her cane down on the ground, she stamped her foot impatiently.
“You talk much of nothing. Ears.” Face pinching, she tapped the side of her head. “Be still.”
At the firm, hard tone, a thousand pin pricks marked my flesh and my body locked up, frozen on the spot as the plump older woman’s lips pursed, glaring up at me.
No small amount of triumph lighting her eyes, flashing that eerie silver again, her lips jerked at the corners. “Will you sit a spell now, then? Long enough for an old woman to have her say?” She was enjoying this, amusement lacing her tone.
I wasn’t a puppet for her to play with. There would be no strings attached to me.
Unable to move a muscle, nothing but my eyes, I gave her a hateful, narrow-eyed look, eyes flashing bright blue as my runes lit up, a low hum thrumming through my skin. As my jaw slowly unlocked, a deep hiss escaping my lips, and my limbs sluggishly loosened from whatever hold she had me captive in.
Magda’s eyes widened in stunned shock, blinking back and forth between her cane and my eyes, then she was muttering something that sounded very much like a prayer under her breath, but could have been a spell for all I knew, stumbling back.
Fear, a scent I could now detect as it filled the small space, acrid and sour, quite bitter, had my tension easing as I slowly backed up, noting a small wooden stool, and took a seat.
Good. She should be scared. That witch tried to spell me!
“Not human, and not Fae, and yet...” Her head cocked in pure bafflement, dark brows furrowing. “You have magicks. What are you?” she half mumbled, half demanded, in awe.
“Don’t you already know?” She seemed to know a hell of a lot more than I did with all of this. Meeting her perplexed stare with an irritated glare, I muttered, “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing. What, pray tell, are you?”
Vidi came in just then from a small door towards the back, arms full with three large mugs, a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth tucked under one arm, and a steaming bowl of what smelled like beef stew.
Stopping dead in her tracks, she eyed us curiously. “Did I miss something?”
As we continued to eye one another, the older woman’s cheek started to twitch.
“Nothing you need worry about,” Magda said finally.
Rolling her eyes, Vidi let out a very put out huff. “Uh-huh. That’s what you always say.”
“And for good reason!” Tossing her arms up, Magda let out a loud harrumph. “Heed my words, Lavidia, you keep messing with things best left alone, believe you me, you’ll put yourself in a bind not even a watered down halfling could pull you out of!”
Eyes looking to me sharply before they returned to her wily kin, Vidi’s lips pursed and she muttered, voice just barely above a whisper, “I’ll do as I please, same as you, and you’ll do well to mind yours.”
“No use whispering,” Magda tipped her chin in my direction, “I’ve a feeling she can hear anyways.”
I could, but didn’t realize she’d been talking so low. Her voice was loud enough and clear enough for me to make out easily.
Have I really changed so much? Thinking it over as the two women bickered amongst themselves, my eyebrows puckered in thought and my chin dipped low, masking my expression. I can scent emotions—I’d smelled fear. Hell, I can smell what’s in that bowl—beef stew—and it’s not a guess, it’s a surety.
Have I really changed so much? I kept asking myself, mulling it over as it sank in. My hands strayed to my eyes and I squeezed them shut tight. Of course I have. What does that make me now?
Magda and Vidi’s voices drifted back to me and I let out a long, quiet breath, trying to calm my shaken composure without alerting them to my discomfiture.
“You just mind your own. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll mind what I mind, and you’ll listen and know what’s good for you.” Magda’s cane slammed the floor again.
Power rumbled along the floor boards, but it wasn’t coming directly from Magda, it was the cane itself.
The magic spat at Vidi didn’t faze her one bit, bouncing right off, unnoticed,
“That makes no sense!” Vidi hissed, slapping a small wooden spoon down hard on the small trunk that separated us.
“Of course it does! I’m not infirm.” Snatching the spoon up, Magda glared at her.
“If I have the gift, why should I not harness it?”
“Harvest, not harness. Casters are unnatural. They blur the lines. Part Fae, enough to fill my pinky, won’t do you much good, spells or not. As I’ve said, time and again, you don’t have enough to make a dog piss!”
“But I-”
“It’s pure bull, so you’ll drop this!”
“I’m old enough to decide-”
“How to kill yourself being a fool, yes, so you’ll listen to me!”
“Arrrgggghhh!”
Tuning them out again, my eyes drifted towards the old, oddly shaped wooden door. What am I now? I wondered. Am I Ornthren? Glancing down at my fingers, I turned my hands to exam my palms. I’d never thought to ask, or even questioned it. Not quite human, not quite Ornthren—I’m a freak. Flexing, I curled my fingers into tight, balled up fists, then slowly let them loose. Untainted, they were, pale and soft—normal—unmistakably unmarked, unmarred by anything.
I’m not all marked up like Troll, only the... Ignoring the sharp pull in my chest, the tug of pain that picked at me, I forged on, forcing myself to finish the thought—it was true, after all—only the ‘ruined’ parts of me are marked up, not all of me. And what was the reason for that? A punishment? I didn’t do anythin
g wrong. Would I ever know? Tugging my collar aside absently, skimming my hands over my collarbone and neck, my runes tingled, a low, humming sting. The sheet I’d fashioned two ties out of to secure it around my neck suddenly felt tight.
“What’s that you got there?”
Jumping at Magda’s voice, much closer than I’d realized, it rang in my shocked ears. She took my momentary distraction to flip my makeshift cloak over my shoulder and yank the top of my night dress to the side, exposing the damaged skin at my neck and shoulder.
The second her fingers touched a rune, she hissed and jumped back, leaping so far and fast her back slammed into the wall. Grimacing, she clutched her hand to her chest, wiggling her fingers as she glared. Small tendrils of smoke steamed from her freshly blackened skin.
Blinking down at the swirling bright blue patterns lighting my skin, wide-eyed, I ran a finger along one.
Nothing.
“Whoa,” Vidi murmured, impressed. Chuckling into her fingers, a slow smile spread across her face. “Maybe you should have asked before touching, eh, Granmamma.” Brilliant green eyes dancing, she laughed teasingly at her elder.
“Hush, brat, and mind your betters,” Magda muttered, shaking out her hand. Fixing her stare on me, she grimaced. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. No need to mark me up like that. Only wanted to see. Damn and blasted, I know you’re stronger than me! You broke the hold, didn’t you? I concede! And you certainly don’t have the taint of Fae, that’s for sure.”
“Nope, not Fae,” Vidi agreed, ignoring Madga’s warning glare.
“Whatever monster you’ve fashioned yourself into,” her eyes turned to small, beady little, accusing slits as they bored into me, “you can be sure I’ve no means to tangle with you.”
Hurrying to cover up my markings, face crimson, I spluttered. “But I-I didn’t do anything.” At her unconvinced look, I admitted, “I mean, I didn’t want you to touch me, yes, but I-I... I didn’t! I don’t... I mean...” Tears filled my eyes, unbidden, and my lower lip started trembling something awful as the pair stared at me like they were in the presence of a real, living nightmare. “I swear,” my voice choked on a sob, “I’d never hurt anyone!” It immediately brought to mind the fact that I’d cursed my entire family, and I caved in on myself, crumpling off the stool and onto the floor, openly sobbing, sprawling in an unseemly heap where I lay, uncaring who witnessed.
Firm arms wrapped around my shoulders, hugging me tight, and it was Vidi who’d approached me, eyes unafraid when I glanced up through blurry, tear filled ones of my own once the worst of it was over.
“It’s alright,” she soothed, “it’s alright now.”
As small hiccups wracked me, Magda quietly asked, “Who is it you’re bonded to, child?” Sighing heavily, she rubbed at her neck.
Confusion clearly evident in my voice, I mumbled, “Don’t you know?” She’d said his name. I know she’d addressed me as bonded of Bektam, or something like that. What was she playing at?
Vidi let out a small chuckle as Magda threw her hands up dramatically, exasperated. “If I knew that, dearie, what would I be asking you for?”
“Well, I don’t, I-”
“Look,” she sent me a level stare, leaning forward on bent knees, “I understand you’re in a... predicament, and I can understand, seeing as to how there are things going on,” her gaze went to Vidi briefly and she paused, asking me silently not to elaborate, “we aren’t privy to, but we can’t help if we don’t know anything.”
Curling my legs up to my chest, I rested my chin on my knees, arms wrapped around my bent legs, hugging myself protectively. Sniffling and not quite sure how much to say, I said tentatively, “Why don’t you start off with what you know.”
“Not very trusting, are we?” When I just stared at her, she nodded. “Smart, really, unlike that one. Walk off with the first boy who made calf eyes at her if I wasn’t around.” Waving a hand at Vidi, who had situated herself between us and was currently carving up the loaf of misshapen bread, Magda clapped her hands together once, making everyone but herself jump.
“Was that really necessary?” Vidi grumbled, making a face for Magda as she handed me a huge slice.
“Shut up, I’m talking now,” Magda barked, snatching up a piece of crisp crusted bread, so warm it felt fresh from an oven, before Vidi could.
Sticking out her tongue before she shoved a sizeable chunk in her mouth, Vidi snorted out a laugh.
Magda just waved her off. “The youth is wasted on the young.”
A small smile crept up my lips, but it fell when the old gypsy woman’s eyes went back to me.
“Why don’t we try something first, hmm?” Holding her hands out, palms up, she sat up straighter, rolled her shoulders, and wiggled her fingers, motioning that I should put mine in hers.
Warily, I put my hands out, fingers reaching, but felt funny about it and pulled back before they touched.
“What? Don’t trust me?” Cocking her head to the side, she studied me, deep, fathomless eyes boring into mine. “That’s right,” the older woman gave Vidi another disapproving look, “I keep forgetting.”
Magda must have seen something, in my face, or the stiffness of my posture, maybe the tightness around my eyes and mouth, a guardedness that never quite went away, giving me away, and her expression softened.
“Don’t know what’s got your back so stiff, but I can promise you, while you’re with us, these nomads descended of the Aos Si, no harm will come to you. We have a code, you know. Can’t break a pact once it’s made. This is my pact to you.”
“Aos Si? I thought you were gypsies?” My blurt had both of them laughing, holding their stomachs as they guffawed rather loudly and I sat out on the joke. “Well, aren’t you? That’s what Bavol... said.”
“Don’t know who this Bavol is,” Magda chortled, “but he sounds like Puck himself.” That comment facilitated another round of chuckling snorts.
“I don’t get it.”
Vidi, the first to sober, explained, “Not even gypsies would mess with the like. Not many willing enough to get caught up with our ilk, no matter how thinly it runs through our veins. Looked down on by all,” Vidi’s ready smile and sparkling green eyes faltered a little and her head dipped, fingers picking at the ties on her shirt, “not that I really blame them, though.”
Magda patted Vidi’s knee and went back to her bread.
After a tense silence, Vidi glanced up. “Casters’ll mingle, Changelings and shifters too, from time to time sometimes, but most avoid the Sidhe and their get. It doesn’t mix.”
“Tell that to your parents,” Magda murmured under her breath, mouth full of her last bite.
Vidi hadn’t overheard, gaze still on me, and I was glad of it. She looked pained enough as it was.
“Casters? Sidhe?” I asked quickly, accepting another large piece of bread. Quickly eating that one too, I hadn’t realized how starved I was, ready to cram down more. Uncapping the water skin Bavol had left to me, having asked me to hold onto it as we’d walked, I took several large gulps before gesturing for her to explain.
“Witches. Casters. Humans who wield the ancient arts. Dark arts. Other.” Hand out, she spun her fingers in a rolling motion, as if waiting for me to catch on
I didn’t.
“The fairy people,” Magda cut in, eager to move things along.
“The children of the Gancanagh—the fairy lover. We’re the product of that. His... children, so to speak. Human, and, yes, by default weak, sometimes mixed in with a bit of other Other too, but still in possession of some magicks.”
Fairy lover? Human and fairy matings? Other-Other? My eyes widened. Alright, now I’d heard everything.
“Oh.” Eyeing the two of them calmly, my gaze strayed to their ears of their own volition, not a pointed tip in sight. For fear of sounding stupid or being laughed at again, I didn’t ask any more questions.
Fairy lover? I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that one yet, but why not? I’ve seen much
more, so it should come as no surprise. And yet I felt stumped.
Fairy lover. The words made me want to snort out loud. Holding one in, my eyes went back to their faces searchingly.
“For someone who wields so strongly and knows so little about any of this, you seem rather hushed,” Magda observed.
Shrugging, I murmured quietly, “What would you have me say?”
“You push too soon, Grandmamma,” Vidi scolded. “What can be done tonight, can be done tomorrow. The hour is late. Let us rest and start fresh, with the sun.”
Turning stormy eyes, rife with something undefinable yet undeniable, towards Vidi, Magda snapped, “No. We do this now.”
“Fine.” Black sparked in Vidi’s eyes, licking with red and orange, like flames, there and gone in a flash. “Do as you wish,” Vidi hopped up and sprang towards the back, irritation rolling off of her in waves, “but I’m going to bed.”
“See what I have to put up with?!” Reaching for her cane, Magda slammed it into the rug covered floor with a heavy thump. Again with the magic, and again, no reaction from Vidi. It bounced off her back.
Eyeing Vidi’s retreating back, I had a strong sense I wasn’t the only one in the room who could best Magda in a power struggle.
“Impertinent little... I should make you sleep outside with the dogs!”
“She means well,” I replied tentatively.
Upon Vidi’s exit, Magda got up, with much more vigor than I’d expected, and closed the thick oak door, throwing the latch as the sounds of Vidi rummaging around in the small compartment just behind her, settling for bed, reached my ears.
‘We will wait a moment,’ Magda mouthed, turning to me and blowing out her lanterns, one by one, hustling as she shuffled around the small space. Then, as she sat, lighting one single deep blue candle, placing it on the middle of the small trunk, she motioned for me to stay put, and we waited.
Only a short time had passed before the soft snores from the sleeping compartment had her nodding. Blowing out the small blue stub of a candle, she set it down in a small wicker basket off to her side.
The Toll Page 34
