by Diana Rivers
“You think I want something of you, eh? Perhaps I have something to offer you, instead.” The Witch paused as if considering this, then nodded. “Yes, I want something, but not in the way you might think. I want to know what you are and what you will become. I want to understand this new thing. The passing of the Great Star was the end of the Witch-kills. In a way it was also an end to Witches, or at least to Witch power. I think it was the closing of an old time and the beginning of a new one. What that means or what it will bring I cannot see, however much I try to look into the future. I have heard rumors for a long time of some new power in the land. Now, suddenly, edicts spring up like mushrooms on every tree. Reading them, I thought to myself, they must be something to see, these young women, if from this far away they can disturb the Zarns in their cities. Yes, I have heard rumors, but you are the first such creatures I have ever met. I want to talk with you. Also, I want to help you if I can.”
“Indeed? Well, that little game of yours was a fine beginning. Why should we trust you? What help can you be to us?” Pell spoke sharply, as suspicious now as I had been with her.
“In a world where so many hands are raised against you it is good to have some friends, star-brat, especially some with power. Also, we Witches are no friends to Zarns for what they have done to us.”
“I see little power here, Witch, and I want you to understand, we are not your weapons against the Zarns.”
“My poor, foolish girl, whether you like it or not, your very existence is a weapon against the Zarns. Why do you think they wish to kill you?”
“Witch, what is your name?” I was growing tired of this exchange. My neck hurt from looking back and forth between them.
“Alyeeta is how I am called.”
“Well, Alyeeta, my name is Tazzi and that is Pell.” With those words I took off my brother’s cap and laid it on the bench beside her scarf, as a sign of trust. “You are both welcome to your arguments, but I am weary and thirsty. You offered me a cup of tea. For that I would be most grateful. I think Pell may be afraid of your tea, but I will only ask you not to spell me with it. There is a young woman, severely burned, who is in my care. I must be back to her before nightfall. Now her life is in your hands as well as mine.”
“One of those from the barn?”
“How did you know?” Pell asked quickly.
“I know more than you might think. I have been watching all this for a while. So you have saved them. I came too late on the scene and thought them both dead in that inferno.”
“One is dead, the other badly burned.”
“An ugly way they do their killing, those guards. But then I suppose you are not so easily killed. If you wish, I will come sometime soon to see to her burns.”
I saw Pell stiffen, but I said quickly, “I would be very grateful for your help. This healing may be beyond my powers.”
Alyeeta sat down in a chair nearby, poured our tea, and turned her dark eyes on me. Now she was really laying on a charm. I found I could not resist her stare. I felt as if my very soul were being drawn out of me, pulled up to the surface. At that moment she could have had that or anything else of mine for the asking. In a rush of words I told her everything: of the burned ones, and my attempt to heal them, and the pain it cost me. I also told her of Shaleethia’s death. Suddenly I found I was twisting my hands as if to break my fingers. In a burst of grief and anger I cried out at the end, “I am a healer and they have made a murderer of me. With these hands, with medications made for healing, I have taken another’s life. Had I but waited one more day you might have saved her.”
Alyeeta reached out and laid her hands firmly over mine to still them. She was shaking her head. “Not likely. Show me in my head.” I stared at her. “Shut your eyes, Tazzi. See her burns again and show me. You can do it. It will be painful for the moment, but you will have your answer.” I did as she said, gritting my teeth against the pain, going back and trying to see everything, even things I had been barely conscious of at the time, sinking into the memory until she said, “Enough.”
When I opened my eyes she was looking at me with such compassion it made me want to cry. She still held my hands. Now she shook her head again, saying, “Not much chance there. Not from what you have just shown me. Not even with months of healing in a clean, safe place and someone always with her.” Suddenly she released my hands and sat back, as if also releasing me on some other level. “No, I could not have saved her, nor could you, believe me. You did your best. The fire had bitten too deeply. Do not eat yourself up with it, child. That one is gone, let us look to heal the other.”
Pell had accepted her cup of tea, but not a seat. She held herself tense, as if ready to spring away at any moment. Alyeeta turned her attention in that direction. “Well, Pellandrea, will you talk with me now? Please forgive me my little games. I have lived alone too long to be easy with others in my space, but I am neither a fool nor your enemy. I could even be a useful friend—if not for you then for Tazzi. There are things she needs to learn, things she needs to know if she is to survive as a healer.”
“My name? How do you know my name?”
“I know many things, Pell, and nothing at all. Tell me, then.”
Pell sighed deeply and set her cup on the bench. She stared down at Alyeeta as if trying to decide. Then, with a sudden motion she turned away and began pacing back and forth. I raised my hand to stop her, but Alyeeta shook her head. “Let her be. She must come to this in her own way.” We both drank our tea, watching Pell in silence. For a while her restless steps were the only sound in that strange place. Then, just as suddenly as she had turned away, she came back to stand before us. With a quick gesture she flipped off her hat with its attached hair and whiskers, tossing it on the bench next to mine. Then, with much care, she shrugged her way out of her coat and leaned it against a pile of wood by the hearth. It settled there stiffly, almost standing on its own—a strange, lumpy shape that looked like a wide, short, headless man. Watching this, I realized that Pell could not have sat on the floor cushions in that garment. Without it she looked suddenly thin and unprotected and very vulnerable as she sank down with another sigh. She passed her sleeve across her face. Part of the powder came away. It left her face streaked light and dark, as if at just that moment she were emerging from a different skin.
“So, Alyeeta,” Pell started slowly, seeming to draw the words up from some deep place, “You want me to trust you. You say you want to help us. Well, let me tell you, there has been little to trust these past few years, not even one’s own family, that least of all. We have only each other. That bond is very fragile still, just beginning. The rest is like quicksand.”
There was a terrible grieving in her voice. I had never seen Pell so close to tears.
When she stopped, Alyeeta said gently, “Tell the rest.” All trace of mockery was gone. She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes intent on Pell. At that moment she looked almost as old as she had pretended to be.
Pell nodded and went on. Once she had decided to talk, the words flowed out of her. She told it all: the discovery of powers, leaving home, finding the others and the network forming between them, the dangers of the edict, and her hopes for the future. “And in the end we will gather together,” she finished passionately. “We will find ourselves a safe place in this world.” There was silence for a while, then she sat up suddenly and said in a very different tone, “Well Witch, I have trusted you with things no one else knows, no one who is not one of us. Our lives are in your hands. Perhaps I am a great fool.”
“And I have brought you into my home that no one who is not a Witch has ever set foot in till this day. At this moment, Pellandrea, we are in each other’s hands. Something is making and shaping here among us.” I saw a strange look come across Pell’s face at those words, a look of hope and grief and wariness, combined with much else I could not read.
While they were speaking I was intent only on them. Now, suddenly, I sensed another’s presence in the room and look
ed around nervously. With a start, I saw what appeared to be a part of the wall detach itself from the side of the shelter and walk toward us. Mouth open, I watched in amazement as a black, shaggy mountain-pony materialized out of the gloom. As much at home inside as any dog might be, it came to rest its head on Alyeeta’s shoulder. There it snuffled softly in her ear till she fed it some hard crackers from a crock by the hearth.
“My companion, Gandolair,” Alyeeta said with a smile, as if introducing a friend. “His presence helps ease the loneliness here.” Pell made a slight bow. I held out my hand, which the pony lipped gently. Alyeeta had finished her tea. She stroked his head for a few moments in silence. Then she stood up suddenly and said in an abrupt manner, as if dismissing us, “So, Pell, you must tell me the way to your home if I am to come there and help heal this girl.”
Pell’s face hardened. She sprang to her feet also. Everything between them changed in that instant and the air felt thick with threat. “No! No one goes there without me. You can come with us or not, but I give no one who is not one of us directions to that place.”
“Well, I had not thought to be leaving quite so quickly, but never mind, girl, I will see it easily enough in your head.” Alyeeta’s face was also closed and hard. The mockery was back, with even an edge of contempt to it.
“You will not,” Pell said fiercely. The look on her face frightened me. They stared at each other in silence, Pell with her hands on her hips. I could feel the air trembling between them and my head hurt with the pressure. Their silence at that moment rang louder than shouts. Suddenly Alyeeta gave a cry and raised both hands to her head. Her mouth was twisted in pain. In quick succession I saw many looks pass over her face, first of surprise, then rage, then fear, and finally triumph followed by amusement. “So, I see,” she said at last, “Something new has indeed been born on this earth. Something new in our time that has never been seen before. I wonder what this means for Witches.” She looked Pell slowly up and down and added, “If that is how you wish it, then I will follow when you are ready to leave.” With those words she made a slight bow that had both mockery and respect in it.
Pell stood staring at her a moment longer, then she shrugged and seemed to drop her guard. “No, what does it matter. What you already know could see us ten times dead. For some reason Tazzi trusts you. If we are going to work together, if I am ever going to trust you, I may as well start now. Here, you may read it in my mind.” She let her arms fall to her sides and stood very still, looking into Alyeeta’s eyes and leaving herself open, more naked than if she had stripped off all her clothes.
“Ah,” said Alyeeta after she had pondered in silence for some time, “A good place, the twisted part of the forest where most are afraid to go. Even those who know the woods well often lose their way there. You have made a fine choice. If in some ways you are a young fool, in others you are no fool at all. Well, if you are still willing I will go with you now.” Pell nodded. Her face looked pale and strained.
While Pell went to get her saddlebags to repack the contents of her coat, Alyeeta took up her pouch. She had me follow her and hold it open as she went from shelf to crock to cupboard for what she needed. Finally she put on her shawl and her kerchief with the white hair. Then she threw ashes over the fire. At the entryway she turned to Pell and said as one might to a child, “Hold your face still now.” Then with a cloth she wiped away the remainder of the powder and added softly, “Stripes are not a good disguise out there.” I glanced back as we rode away. Alyeeta’s house looked again like a tangled thicket in a clearing and no smoke came from the chimney.
Chapter Ten
My mother had raised me to return honorably and with care everything we ever borrowed. In my whole life I had never stolen so much as a match stick. Yet there I stood in Pell’s shelter, all dressed in stolen clothes, surrounded by stolen wares, and about to eat stolen food. How life changes! We had just returned from our thieving trip to the Hamishair market, bringing back with us Alyeeta the Witch as well as a whole cargo of stolen goods, the contents of Pell’s extraordinary, expanding coat. Pell, in a high good humor, had insisted on having me try on different bits of the new clothing to see what did best for me. She kept turning me this way and that for Alyeeta’s inspection. Maireth, freshly bandaged, sat propped against some cushions, watching silently and eating slices of the peach I had brought back for her. All this, I believe, was more for Pell’s amusement than for any real purpose. The shelter itself looked much like a market stall, with everything from her packs lying scattered around us in colorful disarray: clothes, boots, wooden bowls, another lamp, a jar of lamp oil, potatoes, apples, more peaches, a bolt of undyed cloth that Pell swore she did not steal but bought from the weaver for honest coins, two knives, bread, cheese, berries, and a small basket.
Pell herself looked almost playful, a strange altering of her lean, hard face. “Tazzi, I must tell you, you were a marvel today, wonderful, inspired, better than I could possibly have imagined. In fact, by the Goddess, you are the best fool I have ever followed through the market, though I think we cannot play that same show there again. Too many would remember. Next time they would be watching and waiting to catch us.” I looked down at the floor, blushing in discomfort at this high praise for being a thief’s accomplice.
“Give me back my necklace,” Alyeeta said suddenly. “It is worth far more than your few coins and is much too fine for a crude farm girl.”
“Good,” I said, grateful for this distraction in spite of the insult. “I surely have no need for it, and it cost far too much besides.” I fished in my pouch and held out my hand with the beads. I was glad enough to be rid of them, though seeing them now in the lamplight there was something alluring in the depth of their blue, something that seemed to draw me in.
Alyeeta laid some coins in my palm, quickly took up the necklace, and slipped it over her head, saying, “You have no knowledge of true worth.”
“Count the coins,” Pell said sharply. She had been watching all this intently.
I did as she said, then held out my hand again. Alyeeta looked reproachfully at Pell. She sighed, shrugged, gave a little laugh, then put more coins in my hand, one at a time, until I nodded. “I thought at least to get something for my work,” she said to Pell with a grin.
***
On the way back to Pell’s shelter the three of us had come by yet another one of her meandering paths. To me it seemed to wind in circles and bend back upon itself. I did not question. I simply held to my horse through the tangled growth and the steep ups and downs, following her mindlessly just as Pell had so often accused me of doing. I was too exhausted by that day’s happenings to care, and even dozed a little when I had the chance.
For her part, Alyeeta kept up a low, quarrelsome complaint, grumbling about everything: the roughness of the path, the steepness, the rocks, the rub of the saddle, whatever came to mind, though her sure-footed little pony had no trouble with the way. Pell would hush her impatiently. For a while Alyeeta would be silent. Then, at the next hint of difficulty she would commence again. It was as if she had put on the voice with the scarf and the white hair, mumbling and muttering to herself as much as to either of us. If I had not seen with my own eyes that strong looking, straight backed, black-haired woman, I would have sworn this was a decrepit old crone we traveled with, one whose bent body could not bear the hardships of the trail. I was struggling not to laugh, but Pell was in no way amused. “It is dangerous out here, not a place for clowns and fools,” she snapped as Alyeeta started up again.
By the time we reached the shelter it was already the edge of dusk.There were just a few streaks of red from the dying sun visible through the trees. I was much relieved to be safely back before dark. Pell, for her part, was thoroughly aggravated and out of sorts, while Alyeeta looked amused and pleased with herself.
Once there, Alyeeta took on a different style. She went striding about outside, looking at the shelter and poking at it with a stick. “Well made and well hidden.
Yes, yes, very well. Even a little spring here, I see, and all tucked into such a secret part of the woods. You must have very special powers for theTwisted Forest to welcome you this way. Most it keeps out and drives back. Yes, well done. I could not have done better myself.”
Pell could not tell if she were being mocked or praised. Her eyebrows were drawn together again in one dark line. She appeared to be struggling to keep her temper. I felt caught between anger and amusement at seeing her so tried. Finally she muttered some answer and went off to see to the horses.
As Alyeeta was setting out to do yet another turn around the outside of the shelter, I took hold of her arm. “Alyeeta, please come look at Maireth,” I pleaded.
“Ah, yes, the burned one. This is all so new and interesting I had almost forgotten what brought me here.” She took up her healing bag and followed me in.
The stench of festering struck me the instant we entered. Maireth had lit the lantern and was sitting propped up, watching the door. “This time I thought you had truly deserted and left me to die here alone in spite of your promise. Look, it is already dark.” Her eyes were reproachful, her voice bitter and full of accusation.
“Spirit, anyhow, that is a good sign,” Alyeeta said as she came over to peer down at Maireth. “Give her some of this for pain, and let us get on with it.”
“These are for you, and Pell has more,” I said quickly, setting an offering of three peaches in her lap and beginning to slice a fourth one for her. “And I have brought back another healer for you, one who has ghero-root and other things we need, as well as more skill than I do.” Even as I said those words, I hoped in my heart it was true.
