The Blessing of Equinox Page 3

  “I will not give up my jewels,” she seethed.

  “Ye spoke a promise to the girl,” he growled, snatching up his axe as he stepped forward. “Ye bind me in words and not yerself?”

  Rohesia stood taller, raising her chin. “Do not think you will intimidate me, dwarf,” she began, but just as quickly, Marsilia stepped between them, holding her hands out to ward them each off.

  “Please, please,” she said, “we don’t need to fight between ourselves.” She looked back to him, the worry in her gaze tempered by conviction. “What besides jewels does he like? I can hunt deer as we travel; I’m good with both bow and crossbow. Herbs? Medicines?”

  Fjell slowly lowered his axe until the handle rested upon the ground. Giving a final look of disdain to the elder witch, he turned his gaze back to the young woman. “Aye,” he said slowly. “He might take keenly to a fresh kill. Not many deer inside the mountain.”

  Nodding, Marsilia lowered her hands and looked between the two of them. Rohesia gave him an irritated but victorious look that made his skin crawl before turning and going to collect the books she had laid out. He stared at her with disgust for a long moment before finally realizing that Marsilia was still standing there, watching him, her brow furrowed. When he met her gaze, she spoke quietly.

  “What did you mean, she bound you in words?” the young witch asked.

  Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he turned away, leaning his axe against the table again. He didn’t mean to answer, but she followed him. As he reclaimed his seat before the fire, she sat across from him. Chancing a glance back, he saw the old hag leave the room and he grimaced, leaning forward.

  “I owe the witch a favor for a healing,” he said, gesturing to the bandage on his leg. “She called it in for ye, to take ye to the Fae Realm, so ye can get the Blessing of Equinox, and then to bring ye back.”

  Marsilia furrowed her brow, looking down. “Oh, I see,” she said. “That is why you were so sullen, so upset. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Fjell scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “S’a worthy cause.”

  “You can wait at the mountain, then,” she said, nodding as if coming to a decision. “Wait with your kin, and I’ll make my own way as fast as I can. You needn’t face the elves’ parts of the realm.”

  The dwarf frowned, looking back to her as she gazed into the hearth’s dying fire with determination. “Don’t be daft,” he finally sighed. The young witch turned her gaze back to him and quirked an indignant eyebrow. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the display. “What, ye know yer way around the Fae Realm? Ye know how to get to the Mantles, to avoid the dangers of the land?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Your obligation is only to—”

  “My obligation to the old hag,” he interrupted, “is to see ye to the Fae Realm.” Turning his gaze back to the fire, he frowned. “My conscience is to see ye safely to yer task. It’s a noble cause. I may be resistant to the magics of a dark witch, but I won’t see my fae kin slaughtered by the kerling.”

  Her hand closed around his and he pulled his gaze back to meet hers, brow furrowing, half ready to defend himself against some sort of spell or trickery. Instead, she smiled so appreciatively and genuinely, he nearly wished it’d been a spell instead.

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  The next morning found them well rested, fed, and provisioned for the day. With the help of some herbs and elixirs the night before, even Marsilia’s sore muscles from pulling the cart across the forest were eased and she felt once more energized.

  She was in the healing chamber, kneeling on the ground beside Shuck. The poor hellish dog breathed slowly as if in deep sleep, but she knew better. Stroking his fur, she cradled his massive head in her lap, scratching his favorite spot under his chin. His leg, normally so quick to start thumping at the attention, didn’t so much as twitch.

  Gently laying him back on the ground, she stood and moved over to the bed. Eudon still, for all the eye could see, slept peacefully - save for the dark veins around his eyes, mouth and hands. Sitting on the bed, she leaned over and rested her ear on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, listening to his slowed heartbeat.

  “The sun is rising,” Fjell said from the doorway to the room and Marsilia slowly raised herself up from her father’s still form. “We should get going.”

  Without a word, she stood and moved silently past him into the main room of the cabin. Rohesia sat before the hearth, watching them from the corner of her eye, but more so watching Fjell. As Marsilia collected the blade the old witch had gifted her, Fjell cleared his throat.

  “Do ye still have any thought to hold to yer word?” he asked, moving to stand in sight of the old witch and tucking his thumbs behind his belt. The woman didn’t respond but waved a finger for him to continue. “I need a shield if I’m to defend her properly.”

  “You gave me that shield,” the old witch said calmly, “in payment for your life.”

  “I won’t take back that which I gave,” he growled in annoyance. “Ye have other shields. I saw when ye took mine and added it to the stack. I don’t mean to take permanently, just to borrow.”

  Sighing, the old witch pushed herself to her feet and walked over to a massive chest on the far side of the room. With great drama, she tossed it open and gestured for him to take his pick before stomping back to her place by the fire.

  Marsilia frowned between the two of them as Fjell made a face at her back and went to the chest to find himself a shield. Whatever had happened between them, they clearly did not like one another. The young witch couldn’t help but wonder why he came to her instead of to her father’s cottage when he was so in need of healing.

  She had always assumed that everyone knew of their cottage, that she and her pa were well known to all fae, but perhaps that was not the case. As he selected a shield, rife with motifs of roses and golden crosses, he sneered at the symbology, but tested it on his arm and nodded.

  Without a further word to Rohesia, he marched out the door and stood at the edge of the woods beyond her gardens waiting for his companion. Marsilia lingered a moment longer, gathering the side bag of herbs and elixirs, food and water the elderly witch had gathered for them. Turning to the old woman, she took her hand and smiled down at her.

  “Thank you for all of your help,” the young witch said. “I won’t forget it.”

  Chuckling, the old woman raised her hand to pat Marsilia’s check. “Just succeed, dear child. I’ll keep your papa stable as long as I can, but remember - even more important than his life are the lives of all the other fae this monster will hunt. We’re relying on you, Marsilia.”

  The young woman swallowed hard at the reminder and nodded firmly. “I won’t fail you, Elder Rohesia. I’ll get the blade blessed, and then find a way to defeat her. I swear it.”

  In that moment, Marsilia felt a binding magic attempt to take hold of her before shattering against the strength of her will. She jerked back from the old witch, staring down at her in equal parts offense and shock.

  The old witch smiled at her knowingly. “I had to try, child.”

  Pulling herself up to her full height, Marsilia looked down upon the old woman and took a deep breath to still her anger. “Swear to me,” she said quietly, gathering the magic wielded against her to turn under her own prowess. “Swear to me you will do all in your power to keep my pa, my dog, and the fairies alive while I am gone.”

  Rohesia stiffened under the sudden onslaught of pure magic and she sneered for but a moment in anger before stilling herself as the spell began to take hold.

  “Fair is fair,” the old witch said. “I tried to bind you, so you bind me instead. I swear it.”

  “Say the words,” Marsilia hissed, her anger still sitting atop her very skin.

  “I swear I will do all I can to keep your father, dog and the three fairies stable while you are gone,” Rohesia said, teeth grating as the magic settled in upon her. Raising her old silvered eyes, she took th
e girl in from head to toe and back again. “You could be formidable if you didn’t let your father hold you back.”

  Marsilia took a step back, feeling sullied, dirty. She ground her teeth and, without another word to the witch, turned out the door to join Fjell.

  Chapter 5

  Fjell watched as Marsilia stormed from the cabin, anger and disgust all but rolling off of her. She dug in her cart and pulled out a longbow and quiver before stomping towards him. Pulling himself up to stand straight, he glanced between the young witch and the cabin.

  “Ye alright?” he asked warily.

  “Just fine,” she answered bitterly, marching past him into the woods.

  The dwarf followed behind, letting silence reign as she seethed. They followed the old trail between oaks and birch, ash and sycamore, all in new bud of spring. Snow lingered in the shadows as green moss began to peak out, growing from the melt. Birds sang overhead and squirrels chattered at their passing in irritation. The morning sun was beginning to temper the night’s chill and clouds drifted lazily through the sky. And the white witch continued to seethe.

  With a sigh, Fjell rubbed a hand across his mouth. Half an hour had passed and Marsilia showed no signs of easing her temper. This was not the way to start off a quest.

  Stepping up beside her, he kept his gaze to the lay of the land around them. “Either speak yer anger or let it go,” he said. “Ye’ll taint our entire endeavor if ye keep on like this.”

  Marsilia continued on in silence for a moment more before speaking evenly. “I don’t see how my mood will affect our quest.”

  The dwarf looked at her askance. “Yer not serious, are ye? However a magical quest starts sets the tone for the entire damned thing. Ye want this to be a quest of anger and seething?” He returned his gaze ahead. “Don’t know how the Mantles’ would take to that.”

  “Fine,” the witch sighed, deflating. “I’m mad at myself, and I’m mad at Elder Rohesia.” When he nodded for her to continue, she purposely averted her gaze. “She tried to bind my words to me, but failed. My temper got the better of me and I reversed it, binding her instead.”

  Fjell stopped dead in his tracks, eyes bulging. “Ye… ye what now?”

  Frowning, she hesitated, looking back at him. “I know, I know, it’s vile and disgusting. I feel dirty from using that type of magic.”

  “Nay,” he said. “That’s not what I meant. Ye turned her magic around on her. That’s… impressive.”

  Marsilia didn’t reply, but turned her gaze back to the trail and continued ahead. Fjell fell in step with her, thinking over the matter before speaking again. It was clear she didn’t see what she’d done as impressive, but as some sort of shame. He chose his words carefully when he spoke again.

  “Say a man comes at me with his sword,” he said, “and I parry his attack, and in doing so, cause him to trip up. I then get the killing blow. Should I feel bad he tripped up?”

  “That’s not what I’m upset about,” she said. “Pa and I don’t deal in binding magics. I’ve never done that sort of thing before. Sure, she tried to do it to me first, but I let my anger get the better of me and used something foul on her in return.” Her brow furrowed and she looked down again. “Pa will be so disappointed in me.”

  “Hey,” he said, taking her shoulder to stop her and turn her back to face him. She kept her gaze down at first, and he waited until she finally met his eyes before continuing. “Yer pa will forgive ye. Ye don’t plan or want to do it again, eh? So just resolve not to let yer anger get the better of ye and let it go. Letting that rattle ‘round in yer head won’t do our quest any good. Understand?”

  Her eyes searched his for a long moment and he forced himself to keep meeting the witch’s gaze unwavering - even though a part of him wanted to pull back. She seemed to have a good heart, but she was still a witch and one never knew exactly what went on in their minds.

  Finally she gave him a weary smile. “Alright,” she said, then steeled her spine and nodded. “You’re right. I can’t let myself get bogged down with other matters. We need to focus on this quest.”

  He nodded, finally taking that step back. “Good. Let’s get to it.”

  As they returned to following the path, he fell in behind her. He couldn’t say as much to the young witch after her distress, but he smirked nonetheless. He was glad Rohesia had finally gotten a taste of her own medicine.

  The brilliant sun continued to rise higher in the sky as they made their way through the forest, melting the morning frost and bringing much needed warmth. Another hour passed in silence, and while Marsilia was still deep within her own thoughts, Fjell was just glad she was no longer brooding.

  A movement from behind a tree ahead caught his gaze and he grabbed his companion’s shoulder, raising a finger to his lips as he stared ahead. She frowned, following his gaze. Drawing his axe from his belt, he silently stepped past her, warily approaching the tree. When close enough, he whipped around it to find… nothing.

  An echo of giggles sounded through the wood and he turned again, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise. Not the dark witch. Dryads. He lowered his blade and as he glanced back to the witch, he found her standing with her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at him. A dryad slipped from behind a tree and draped herself upon the witch’s shoulder. Another came from the other side and likewise entwined an arm through the witch’s.

  Fjell felt his mouth go dry. They were slender of waist with full chests and hips, and wearing nothing more than semi-transparent gauze gowns and thick fur stoles over their shoulders. While one had hair as silver as starlight, the other’s hair was the dark night itself. Jewels glittered in their hair, around their throats as they draped themselves upon the young witch, watching him with an alarmingly enticing mischief.

  Marsilia watched him for a moment before rolling her eyes and turning to hug each of the dryads in turn. As she did, they broke their gaze from him and he felt his mind begin to clear even as his heart continued to pound in his chest.

  “Little sister, you found something fun,” the silver dryad said, glancing back towards him. “Is he for us to play with?”

  “I’ve never had a dwarf before,” the dark dryad added, returning her gaze to him.

  “Fanden,” Fjell cursed under his breath and looked off to the woods.

  “No, sisters,” Marsilia said. “He’s my guide on a quest, you mustn’t take him.”

  “Aww,” one of the two pouted, but the dwarf didn’t dare to look towards them again.

  Their magic easily lured men to their deaths, and dwarves shared too much with humans for him to be immune. But what a sweet death it would be. He gripped his axe until his fingers ached, focusing on the pain of it.

  “Very well,” one of the dryads said. “We’ll leave him for you, little sister.”

  At that statement he felt their magic ebb from him and he took a deep breath, finally looking back at the three. They now completely ignored him, putting a crown of flowers on Marsilia’s head and a thick stole of silver fur around her shoulders. He watched on, utterly bewildered, as he slowly slid his axe back into his belt.

  “Oh, sisters, this is too much,” Marsilia gasped.

  “Nonsense!” the silver dryad said, adjusting the fur upon her shoulders just so.

  “You saved our sister,” the dark one said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “This is the least we could do.”

  “Just some herbs would have been more than enough,” Marsilia said, taking each of their hands as tears welled in her eyes.

  “You never ask enough,” the silver dryad said, raising a hand to the witch’s cheek.

  “You never ask anything,” the dark dryad said, raising her hand to the witch’s other cheek. “And you always come when we need; it’s past time we mark you as our own.”

  Marsilia’s lower lip trembled for but a moment before she embraced them both in a tight hug. Fjell scratched at his chin and smoothed his beard before clearing his throat. The three women turne
d back to look at him.

  “I hate to drag ye back to the present,” he said, “and this is all very touching, but we need to keep moving if ye want to make my mountain before dark.”

  Sobering, the young witch pulled back from the two dryads and nodded at him before returning her attention to them. “Listen carefully, sisters. A dark witch has taken to these woods. She’s stealing magic from any fae creature she comes across. I must beg you to warn the others and then hide yourselves away.”

  “Is that why you quest?” the dark dryad asked.

  “Why doesn’t your pooka join you?” the silver dryad continued.

  Fjell watched as Marsilia’s face fell and he stepped forward. “The dark witch defeated him,” the dwarf said. “Elder Rohesia is keeping him alive until we get back.”

  The silver dryad nodded slowly, then embraced Marsilia again. “We will send out word and hide well, sister.”

  The dark dryad turned to fully take him. “You go to the Fae Realm?” At his nod, she lifted her chin. “Guard her well then, dwarf. Our little sister is well loved in our woods and we would have her back.”

  The dwarf hesitated for a moment, half expecting to feel some sort of magic, but none came. He met the dryad’s gaze evenly and nodded. “I will.”

  The two dryads gave Marsilia parting hugs and kisses on the cheek before taking each other’s arms and melting into the forest beyond the road. Fjell breathed a sigh of relief at their departure and turned back to find Marsilia sobered but petting the fur draped around her shoulders.

  “We should go,” he prodded quietly and she looked up, nodding to him.

  As she walked past him, he fell in behind her, considering. That hadn’t been a display meant for him; it was an honest moment of gratitude from the two dryads. Gratitude so deep that they had claimed her as a sister dryad, despite her mortality. In truth, as she had stood between the two incarnations of nature’s desire, she had not looked one bit out of place.

  Perhaps there was more to the young witch than he had realized.