Witching Fire: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 16

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  To the left was an open area with a group of musicians sitting there, with their long-handled stringed instruments and two wooden drums. The instruments were ornate, intricately carved. The men manning them were gorgeous, with long brown hair and swarthy skin and eyes so black they looked like rich soil. They were dressed in blue tunics and brown trousers, and as for their ages—they could have been thirty or sixty.

  The man behind the counter was a beefy man, with muscles on his muscles. He was bald, his head shining. But for as menacing as he could have looked, his eyes twinkled and a smile creased his face.

  He caught sight of Kipa and rounded the corner of the bar as Kipa stepped up to meet him. The men clasped hands, then hugged, and Kipa said something I didn’t understand. The man turned to us. He said something else and I felt a shift—whatever it was had been an incantation.

  “Well met, Lady,” he said, bowing to my mother. “We are graced to have a Daughter of the Morrígan in our presence.”

  My mother seemed to be caught off guard for the moment, but then she laughed and said, “Well met to you, as well. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  “Kipa, introduce us, you wolf, you.” The barkeep arched his eyebrows. “Such a lack of manners with this one, always.”

  Kipa laughed. “Bear, you need to stop bemoaning my lack of social graces. You do this every time we meet.” He held out his hand to me. “Bear, I’d like you to meet my mate, Raven BoneTalker. She’s one of the Ante-Fae. Raven, this is Bear, my cousin.”

  Startled, I turned to him. “You’re related to Kipa? Then, you’re a—”

  Bear nodded. “Yes, I’m a god. What you might call a minor god. My given name is far longer than I care to use, so you may call me Bear. You are a lovely woman, and I can tell your spirit has a good, sharp edge to it. Well met, Lady Raven.”

  “Phasmoria is Raven’s mother,” Kipa said.

  It was Bear’s turn to look surprised. He glanced from Phasmoria to me. “I can see the resemblance. Then you are not following your mother’s path?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not born to be one of the Bean Sidhe. I’m a bone witch.”

  “Ah, a speaker for the dead. You come from a revered tradition.” Bear paused, then pointed to the table that was empty. The other one had eight travelers gathered around it, and they were all eating and drinking. The music started up again, softer, but as beautiful and haunting as it had been before.

  “Sit, take your weight off your feet. I’ll call for food and drink—and don’t even bother protesting. Even a short jaunt through the realm of ice will leave you out of energy.” Bear motioned to a woman I had assumed to be a serving maid. “Food, drink, plenty of it and quickly, girl.”

  The girl curtsied and vanished into the kitchen.

  “Your daughter is growing into a lovely young woman,” Kipa said.

  Bear laughed. “She is at that. I would have tried to get you to take her hand, but you have found another lovely for yourself.” He turned to me. “No worries, milady Raven, I will not interfere. I would have loved to have Kipa for a son-in-law, but then again, he has been known to play fast and loose with the hearts of many a woman throughout Kalevala, and I would never wish that on my daughter, Aiedal.” He paused then, blushing. “Not that I think he would do so to you—”

  “Give it up, Bear. You always end up with foot-in-mouth disease.” But Kipa laughed and draped his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, love,” he said to me. “You know I’ve left my wandering eye behind.”

  “I should hope so,” Phasmoria said.

  Bear snorted and slapped his thigh. “Best beware, Wolf. You know how mothers can be.”

  “Oh yes,” Kipa said. He gave a reverent nod to my mother. “Phasmoria knows I won’t ever play her daughter fast and loose.”

  I remembered Kipa telling me that, among the Finns, the true heroes were the mothers of the heroes. They often bailed their sons out of trouble and managed to unravel the messes they made. So that meant my mother had some clout here.

  “What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Bear asked as Aiedal carried in a serving tray that was almost as round as she was tall. She set it on a folding stand and began to fill the table with dishes. There were bowls of soup, a basket of warm, fresh rolls, a crock of butter, a round of soft cheese, what looked like a whole fish that had been roasted in the oven, a cranberry tart, and a ham, sliced and ready to eat.

  “I’ll return with your drinks,” she said, vanishing again.

  I stared at the spread, once again ambivalent about the food in my world. As I tasted the potato soup, my body began to wake up and I realized that the extreme cold had made me feel like I was shutting down and going to sleep.

  “We’re seeking Väinämöinen and last I heard, he was staying here, in your inn.” Kipa picked up a roll and tore it in half, slathering it with the spreadable cheese.

  Bear went into a coughing fit, accepting a stein of ale from his daughter, who had returned with several bottles of wine, two steins of ale, and two goblets. She set the goblets in front of my mother and me, and handed Kipa the other stein. Bear guzzled down the ale, wiping the foam off his lips as he cleared his throat. He handed the empty stein to his daughter. “More, please.”

  She carried the stein away.

  “So, you’re here to see the old coot?”

  “Don’t talk like that. You owe him some honor for all he’s done,” Kipa said. “I’m irreverent and even I give Väinämöinen his fair due.”

  I watched the interplay with interest. I had seen Kipa around Herne, and around Cernunnos and Morgana, but until today I hadn’t seen him around other gods of his kind. And given Bear was his cousin and some sort of god, it fascinated me to see how he interacted with him.

  “True that, my brother. True that,” Bear said. “He can be frightening. But yes, he’s here. He’s in a room on the second floor, but I will tell you this—he seems surly today. I’m not sure what happened but he stormed in, ordered that he’s not to be disturbed, and had four bottles of wine sent up to his room.”

  Kipa stared at his plate. “That’s not comforting.”

  Phasmoria broke open one of the rolls and added butter, ham, and the cheese to make a sandwich. I wasn’t that hungry because I’d been eating potato soup, but the ham beckoned to me, too, and so I added several slices to my plate.

  “Come walk with me,” Kipa said, motioning to Bear. “We’ll be right back,” he added, turning to me.

  As they walked off toward the corner where we couldn’t hear them, I glanced around. “This is a pretty inn,” I said.

  My mother bit into her second sandwich. “So, what do you think?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Would you ever live here?”

  “Maybe,” I said, blinking. “Why?”

  “Because if you and Kipa stay together, eventually he may want to return here and then you’ll have a choice to make. You’ll have to ask yourself if you’re willing to give up city life for a life here.”

  “I doubt he’d want to stay, though. He seems to like the ‘modern’ era,” I said.

  “I know, but you can never be entirely sure of what’s going to happen.” She paused, then added, “The Dragonni are making inroads and the gods aren’t having much luck turning them back. I know all about…their secret weapon, and we can hope that it will turn the tide, but you need to seriously give some thought to what happens if Typhon and his kind manage to take over. You need a place to retreat to, Raven, a place you’ll be safe. Because anyone—anyone—aligned with the gods in trying to repel the Father of All Dragons will be marked for execution. I’ve seen wars like this before. And I will not have you murdered in your sleep, even if I have to drag you off to the Morrígan’s castle.”

  I pressed my lips together, suddenly grasping her meaning. If Echidna—the Mother of All Dragons—wasn’t able to beat Typhon back into the realm in which he had been trapped, then the world would be doomed. There was no option for compromise. With Typhon,
it was all or nothing. Even now, the Father of Dragons was working on two fronts—one offensive, and the other, much more insidious.

  “I suppose I could go to Annwn. That’s where my gods are, and that’s where Herne and Ember and Angel would be,” I said.

  “If it comes to that, don’t wait too long. Whether it be Annwn or here. I’m so proud of how you’ve stepped up to helping with the war effort, but don’t put your life on the line.” She went back to her dinner, leaving me to think over her words.

  A moment later, Kipa and Bear returned. Kipa motioned to us.

  “Bear’s arranged a meeting with Väinämöinen. Come, we don’t want to risk him changing his mind.” He slid his arm around my waist and, with Phasmoria following, led us toward the stairs. On the way up, he added, “Bear’s right. Väinämöinen is a crusty old salt, but he’s also one of the most powerful bards in the world and he’s crafty and sly. So watch your words, mind your manners, and maybe we’ll come away with what we need.”

  As we ascended the stairs to the second floor, I found myself getting nervous. As a witch, I instinctively revered the Force Majeure. They worked some of the most powerful magic in the world—sort of the rock stars of the bewitching set.

  We stopped at the second door on the left side of the hallway, and Kipa knocked. A moment later, a young man opened the door. He looked muscled and strong, and young, and though I knew that magic could enhance the illusion of youth, I was startled by how real the illusion seemed. That is, until the youth led us into the sitting room area of the inn’s suite, and I realized that he wasn’t Väinämöinen.

  An older man was sitting in a rocking chair beside the fireplace. His face was lined with wrinkles, a topographical map of his life, and he wore a long pale blue robe. His hair hung in braids down to his back—shining white and smooth—and there was a quiet aura of power surrounding him that almost muffled the entire room. My stomach fluttered and I found myself frozen as I stared at him and doubt began to emerge. Who was I, a mere bone witch, to ask such a powerful bard to teach me his magic? I blushed, my cheeks red and hot as I bit my lip.

  Phasmoria was standing behind me, and she poked me in the ribs and whispered, “Say something.”

  I stumbled forward and awkwardly curtseyed. “Merry meet.” I realized I had no idea what to call him—I didn’t know what title he used. But Kipa took care of that for me.

  “Raven, Phasmoria,” he said, “I present you to Väinämöinen, keeper of the oldest kantele, Lord of the Runos. Lord Väinämöinen, this is Raven, my consort, and her mother Phasmoria, Queen of the Bean Sidhe.”

  The old man looked up and his eyes flickered, a brilliant blue that was unclouded and untouched. His look alone told me that the wrinkles and the age were all the true illusion. Oh, the bard was as old as time, but magic kept him young, and it kept him going.

  He slowly stood, and as he did so the magic in the room shifted, rising up as he stood to cloak him in a swath of sparkling energy.

  “Well met, young daughter of the Ancient Verkko.” He smiled at me, then, and it felt like I had been blessed by some holy man. Being in Väinämöinen’s presence made me feel special.

  “What’s Verkko?”

  “The web,” Kipa said. “The energy that binds us all together.”

  I turned back to Väinämöinen. “Thank you for seeing us.” Pausing, I turned to Kipa. I felt utterly tongue-tied and unsure of how to ask what I needed to ask.

  Kipa stroked my back. “Ask your question.”

  “It’s true, girl, I don’t bite,” the ancient bard said. “Unless you prefer it that way.”

  I bit my lip again.

  Right then, my mother stepped up. She inclined her head and said, “Lord Väinämöinen, my daughter is star-struck. But she needs a boon from you, Ancient Father.”

  Väinämöinen glanced at her, his eyes glimmering. “So I gather, Queen of the Bean Sidhe.” Turning back to me, he said, “Ask, girl. What do you want? You never get anywhere in life if you don’t ask for what you want.”

  I steeled my courage. “I need to know how to seal someone from being attacked by an astral predator.” I explained what had happened and what we had learned about the aztrophyllia. “So, even if we blast it back to the astral plane, that’s no guarantee it won’t try to reach Lenny again.”

  Väinämöinen stroked his beard, which was down to his chest, and sat back down, motioning for us to join him. There were two loveseats as well as the rocking chair he was sitting in. “Let me think for a moment. There are several possibilities.”

  As he leaned back and closed his eyes, we sat down to wait. I tried to curb my impatience, but honestly, just being in his presence made me calmer. I felt something akin with him—like we were connected by our love of magic. In an odd way, it felt like he was the Buddha and I was one of his disciples. And I had never felt that way about anybody before.

  After a while, I began to feel sleepy. My mother was sitting beside me. She had taken off her boots and was now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Kipa was on the other loveseat and he was stretched out, his eyes closed as well. I rested my head against the back of the cushion, and before I realized it, I had dropped off to sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was dreaming that Raj and I were goofing around in my backyard, playing in the snow. Raj kept kicking showers of it at me. I was freezing and getting irritated, wanting to go in but he kept urging me to stay. I was about to order him inside when a voice pierced the dream, echoing through the sky, asking me to wake up.

  Blinking, I slowly pried my eyes open, and the images of Raj and the snow blended into my mother’s face as she shook me by the shoulders. “Wake up, Raven. Raven?”

  I tried to fend off the cobwebs that came from taking a nap. I glanced around, trying to place where we were, and then I saw Väinämöinen, watching me. I thought he was smiling but it was hard to tell behind the trailing beard and mustache.

  “I must have dozed off.” As I shifted, my neck protested with a sharp stab from sleeping all cockeyed. “Ow.” I rubbed my shoulder. “I must have turned into a pretzel. Sorry I fell asleep. That was rude.”

  “We all took a nap,” Kipa said.

  “Indeed,” said Väinämöinen. “Some of my best ideas come from when I’m out on the Dreamtime.” He stood, stretching and yawning. “I suggest you all follow suit and then we’ll discuss your request, Raven.”

  I eased out of the tangle I’d apparently made of my body and hesitantly stretched, taking it easy until I finally felt like I’d unknotted myself. “How long were we asleep?”

  “Time is relative,” the bard said. “But for practicality’s sake, around two hours.”

  I rubbed my eyes. I could have sworn it was far longer, and I realized that I felt more rested than I had in a long while. “Well, then, shall we get on with it?”

  “You’re a hasty one, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Was she always like this?”

  My mother snorted. “As far as I know, yes. But she’s still young in our world—barely off the leash, you might say, and impatience is a trait of youth.”

  “True enough,” Väinämöinen said. “Very well, then. I will teach you the spell you need, but for a price.”

  My heart sank. I didn’t have much money left, given I had tried to pay my mother back for giving my father the money he had spent on my house. And even if we became friends again, I wasn’t at all sure I’d ever trust him enough to accept another gift. At least, not anything like paying for my home.

  “I’m afraid I’m broke at the moment—”

  “No, not that kind of payment,” he said.

  Instantly my mind went where it probably shouldn’t. “I don’t offer my services for—”

  “Guess again,” Väinämöinen said. “I have no interest in you that way. No, my price is this—and it is unnegotiable. You will come back here and train with me for a year’s time. You have a spark in you, girl, which I checked out once you were asleep. And that spark porten
ds greatness. But you’ll never reach that level without someone to train you.”

  I stared at him. What he was offering was a priceless gift, one I’d never even dreamed of. The chance to train with one of the Force Majeure? There was no dollar figure you could place on it.

  “You’re not joking, are you? You’re offering to train me?”

  “Yes, but under these conditions: you obey my instructions. You don’t shirk the work. Once you begin the training, you will complete it. And when you complete your year’s training, you will then enter an internship with me for a period of one year, here, in Kalevala. Do you understand?”

  I caught my breath. The price was steep, but the rewards would be incredible. “Can I bring my gargoyle Raj with me? I never go anywhere without him. And Kipa…” I glanced over at my Wolf Lord. “What about him?”

  “Both are welcome, and you will be given breaks several times through the year where you may travel home and make certain everything is all right.” Väinämöinen sat back down in his chair and unconcernedly picked up a huge dark red apple from the end table next to him. He bit into it, waiting for my answer. “Take your time. We have all the time in the world, here.”

  I glanced at Kipa, who said, “I cannot decide for you, love. This has to be your choice.”

  Phasmoria agreed. “He’s right. This is your path to decide.”

  A thousand thoughts whirled through my head, but my gut said, Jump on it, while you can. You may never have another opportunity like this. “All right, I’ll do it. When will we start?”

  “After the beginning of the year. But now, I will teach you this spell. You can’t learn it the regular way, not in the time we have here. So I’ll need to implant it into your mind. You’ll be able to keep the spell after it’s cast—you won’t lose it. So use it wisely.”