Vixen's Magic

by Aron Lewes

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  KYLIN'S HOPELESSNESS was reflected by the rain, and the constant deluge that followed them. As the driver of their carriage, Esha suffered most from the aerial flood, while Kylin and Rai were safe and dry in the vehicle's interior. Every time they stopped to rest the horses, she apologized to Esha several times, because Kylin knew she was responsible for the rain. She tried to use her magic to send the clouds elsewhere, but her spirits were so low, she could only draw more black clouds to their location.

  By the time they reached Kiley, the village closest to Esha's sister, his robe was sopping wet, and every follicle of hair on his head was saturated. Even in his bedraggled state, he smiled and waved as they rode past Kiley's orphanage, where the children were leaping into mud puddles, challenging each other to make bigger splashes. The rain didn't seem to bother them.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at a cottage with a thatched roof and a modest rose garden. Esha opened the carriage door and offered a hand to Kylin, who pulled up her hood as she ventured into the rain.

  Pointing at the roof, Kylin asked, “How does a roof like that stay dry? Isn't it waterlogged?”

  “It's actually highly resistant to water. I built that roof myself,” Esha said. “Over the years, I've learned a lot from humans. They're very industrious, actually. They're good at coming up with clever solutions to their problems. Their lack of magic makes it necessary, I guess.”

  Rai made a tremendous splash when he jumped down from the carriage. Patting the boy's head with a damp hand, Esha said, “You could have rivaled the orphans with a splash like that.”

  Rai didn't understand. He wrinkled his nose and dashed away in pursuit of a rabbit. Kylin told him to behave, even though she knew he wouldn't listen.

  “Your brother is certainly very spirited,” Esha said, leaning into the carriage to retrieve Wilhelm's corpse. Earlier, before they left Laramie Abbey, he covered the dead body with a cloth.

  “He's annoying,” Kylin corrected Esha's word choice. “I do adore him, but he needs to settle down. He's too old to act like this.”

  “He's a child. You should let him be silly. In a few years, he'll have the joy sucked out of him like everyone else.”

  Kylin started to reach for Wilhelm. She wanted to help Esha carry the body, but when the cloth fell away from Wilhelm's face, she retracted her hand, and her heart broke all over again.

  “There's very little joy to be found in human cities, I admit,” Kylin said. “With the clan, I was always happy. We all supported each other. We took care of each other.”

  “I've been without a clan for so long, I can't say I remember the difference.” Bowing his head at the cottage's front door, Esha said, “Please knock, if you would. My hands are full.”

  Kylin nodded, tapped on the door, and asked, “What's your sister's name? I don't believe you've mentioned it yet.”

  “Chika.”

  As soon as he said his sister's name, a pretty young woman with braided black hair greeted them at the door. “Esha!” she cried. “I didn't expect you! But I'm glad you're here, because—” Her tongue was stilled by the corpse in her brother's arms. “Who... is this?”

  “He's a friend... sort of. It might be more accurate to call him a friend of a friend,” Esha said, tossing a weak smile in Kylin's direction. “I was hoping you might be able to save him.”

  “Esha...” Chika tutted at her brother's request. “This man is dead.”

  “I know. But I want you to heal his wounds anyway. Call it... an experiment.”

  Kylin whistled for her brother and begged him to stop chasing rabbits. With a disapproving grunt, Rai abandoned pursuit and entered Chika's cottage after everyone else.

  Peeking under the cloth that covered Wilhelm, Chika said, “I don't know what sort of experiment this could possibly be. Can you enlighten me?”

  “Kylin can bring back the souls of the dead,” Esha said. “You have the ability to heal wounds. I thought you could patch him up, then Kylin could—”

  “Not likely,” Chika interrupted. “This man's lost a lot of blood, and his brain's been dead for... how long? Honestly, how could this even work?”

  “I can't explain the power of magic any more than you can,” Esha said. “Don't you think we should try, at least? I traveled for miles, in the pouring rain, for a chance to do this.”

  Chika raised a black eyebrow. “And... this matters to you a lot, does it?”

  “It matters a lot to Kylin. I think this is the only way she could be happy again.”

  Chika's eyes snapped to the girl at her brother's side. “And Kylin is...?”

  “She's my Chosen, believe it or not.” Esha shook his head at the preposterous situation. “I rode all the way here for a chance to reunite my Chosen with her lost lover. I'm sure that makes me mad, but... that's our story.”

  “And an odd story it is,” said Chika. She peeled back the sleeves of her ebony dress and knelt beside Wilhelm's corpse. “If we're going to try this, you'll need to remove the arrows from this man's body. One at a time, please.”

  Esha grabbed one of the arrows, and with a grunt, ripped it from Wilhelm's body. Chika waved a glowing hand over the wound, sealing it immediately.

  “And again,” Chika said. “We'll need to keep doing this until every arrow is out of him.”

  Esha wriggled a second arrow out of Wilhelm's body, and Chika sealed her second wound. One at a time, the arrows came out, and the wounds were mended.

  When they were halfway finished, Chika observed, “He must have been in quite a battle to end up like this.”

  “It was an ambush. I almost died myself,” Esha said. “This man shielded Kylin with his body. I have to say, I admire him for that.”

  Chika sealed another wound and said, “Imagine loving someone so much you're willing to sacrifice your life for them.” Turning to Kylin, she asked, “He was in love with you, wasn't he?”

  Kylin shook her head. “I... don't know.”

  “I know,” Chika said. “He desperately wanted to save you, now you desperately want to save him. All of this desperation makes for a rather obvious love story.”

  When every arrow was removed and every wound was closed, Chika wiggled her fingers over the entire length of Wilhelm's body. She was searching his corporeal form for any lingering impurities or hidden wounds. Confident he was fully healed, she backed away from his body.

  “His vessel is mended. I've done all I can,” Chika said. “Now... I guess it's up to you?”

  Kylin took Chika's place, kneeling over Wilhelm's body. The whites of her eyes turned red as she cried, “Wilhelm... please come back!”

  Kylin's plea made an instant miracle. Wilhelm's eyes snapped open, and a smile tipped his lips when he saw her.

  “Never!” Kylin screamed, slapping his chest. “Never scare me like that again! Do you understand?”

  “I'm... a bit confused,” Wilhelm said. “Why am I getting lectured?”

  “You don't know? You died! I thought you were gone forever, and I... then I...”

  Kylin's reply was interrupted by an explosive sob. As she smacked away the tears that flooded her cheeks, Wilhelm sat up and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I thought I told you not to bring me back?” he whispered.

  Kylin's reply was so quiet, only Wilhelm could hear her whispered words. “I would bring you back a thousand times if I had to... and then a thousand times more, because I can't live without you. I... love you, Wilhelm.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “SO, WHERE DO YOU THINK we should go? The ship?” Vala asked, glancing at her silent companion. She had been traveling south for hours, with no destination in mind. “I don't know why I'm asking you. It's not like you have an opinion.”

  Larien was riding beside her, listless and mute, but he handled his horse well. The Silenced could perform almost any task that didn't require conscious thought.

  “I don't know why I'm talking to you at all. I think I've offic
ially lost it,” Vala said. “Anyway, the ship's like my home, but there are too many memories there. I'd expect to see my little brother walking around the deck, and... well, he's not coming back.”

  Vala studied Larien's face as she talked. In her head, she imagined what his reply might be.

  “I'm pitiful,” Vala said. “I'm talking to you like you're my friend, but there's nothing in that head of yours. You're blank. I doubt you'd even flinch if I showed you my breasts. Hey... that might be an interesting experiment, though. I can prance around naked and find out how little you care about a lady's curves.”

  If they were returning to the ship, they had a long way to go, so Vala decided to spend the night in a small village. Her first stop was the pub, where she chatted with Larien over drinks. She even poured him a few shots, and tried to pretend he was a proper companion.

  “I can't believe I cried in front of you.” As she spoke, Vala took a swig of the hardest liquor she could buy. “I keep thinking about that. I can't remember the last time I cried in front of anyone, but at least you won't remember it. I can take comfort in that.”

  Vala pilfered one of Larien's shots and tossed it down her throat. As the alcohol burned its way inside of her she grimaced and hissed.

  Between drinks, she blurted, “I'm going to kill your uncle. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I'll have that bastard skewered on the end of my sword. You can bet on it. He can hire all the body doubles in the world, and I'll kill them all to get to him. After what he did to you and Wilhelm, I say he deserves to die.”

  Vala swore she saw a smile from Larien—but a moment later, she was convinced that she imagined it.

  When she was drunk enough to dull her pain, Vala staggered to her room and crashed into bed. Larien, who no longer needed sleep, stood guard near her bed.

  Hours later, Vala awoke to an aching head, and a prince who never left her side.

  “I had a dream about you,” Vala told him as she tied her boots. “You were talking again. It's sad, you know... waking up to this shit version of you.”

  Nearly an hour later, when they were well away from the inn, Vala told him more about her dream. “Wilhelm was there as well. My brother always said that dreams were a gift, but I think that's bollocks. I think they're a curse. Dreams are a cruel glimpse... they're a tease of something better. Eventually, you have to wake up... and then you realize what a shit world you live in.”

  Vala was silent for the rest of their journey—chatter was pointless, anyway. She uncapped a flask and took small sips of its contents. Vala expected to be drunk for the foreseeable future. The loss of Wilhelm and Larien was too much to bear while sober.

  Hours later, when the familiar masts of Vala's ship crawled into view, she steeled herself against the threat of tears.

  “It'll never be the same,” she whispered to herself. “Not even close.”

  She expected to return to a ship full of Silenced. Instead, she saw a little boy racing around the deck with Wilhelm's mutt.

  “Rai?” Vala cried. “I left you with your sister. Does that mean she's here?”

  “She's here... somewhere,” Rai answered with a shrug. “What's happened to the prince?”

  It wasn't hard to guess there was something wrong with Larien. His mouth was hanging open, and he hissed when he breathed, as the Silenced often did.

  “He was Silenced by his uncle,” Vala said. “I was going to ask Kylin if she could bring him back. Do you know where she might be?”

  A voice, deep and familiar, answered her question. “The last time I saw her, she was in the galley, making a loaf of bread for—”

  Vala screamed so loud, even Larien flinched. She never expected to see her brother standing behind her. She was so shocked, she shouted every profanity she could think of, then she punched Wilhelm's arm.

  “I hope that punch means you're happy to see me?” Wilhelm asked.

  “I had to punch you to make sure you're real,” Vala said. “Are you a ghost or something?”

  Wilhelm shook his head. “The last time I checked? No.”

  “How are you alive?” Vala swatted her own cheek, as if to smack some sense into herself. “I think I might be hallucinatin' or something. The last time I saw you, you were dead. Very dead. You had so many arrows in you, you looked like a bloody quiver.”

  “Kylin brought me back,” Wilhelm said. “Well... it was a joint effort, from what I can understand. Esha's sister fixed my wounds, and Kylin sent me back to my body.”

  Vala lifted her brother's shirt, checking for wounds, but he had nothing more than his usual scars. “How the hell?” she shrilled.

  Wilhelm hugged his sister, which he didn't often do. Vala was so stunned, she couldn't move her arms to embrace him too.

  “I'm still not convinced you ain't some sort of specter,” Vala said. “You're a specter, a shapeshifter... or maybe some kind of illusion?”

  “I'm not!” Wilhelm laughed. “I'm your living, breathing brother. I promise.”

  “Tell me something that only Wilhelm would know,” she challenged him.

  “Until I was ten, I wore the same pair of knickers every day,” Wilhelm said. “Does that convince you?”

  Vala was wiping tears from her eyes as she chuckled at his reply. She wasn't sure if they were tears of laughter or relief—or possibly both. “Oh god, I remember those!” she exclaimed. “Your knickers were so tattered and horrid, I wanted to burn them when you finally got another pair.”

  “I had a stuffed turtle named Windi,” Wilhelm smiled as he shared another memory. “I lost him once, and you scoured the orphanage for hours 'til you found him.”

  “I remember Windi... and you can stop now. I'm convinced. You're Wilhelm. You're my little brother.” Vala clasped his cheeks in the palms of her hand. “I never thought I'd say this, but... I love you. And I'm really glad to have you back.”

  “I've been getting quite a few I love yous recently. Apparently, I had to die before people realized I was likeable.” Glancing at the prince, Wilhelm asked, “What happened to him?”

  Vala summarized her last few days, and when they found Kylin in the galley, she told her story again.

  “You want me to bring him back?” Kylin guessed. She had a bit of flour on her nose, which Wilhelm brushed away.

  “I'd like you to try to bring him back,” Vala said. “If you can't do it... I understand. It's not like anyone else can do what you do.”

  Kylin tiptoed closer to the Silenced prince, whose constant wheezing and gurgling made her reluctant to approach. “Is he... friendly?” Kylin asked.

  “It sounds like you're talking about a nipping dog,” Vala teased her. “But... aye, he's a friend.”

  “I can't believe you befriended the man we were supposed to assassinate,” Wilhelm said.

  “I'm glad we didn't assassinate him, because you and I were on the wrong side. Clearly. Edmore's a twat,” Vala said. “Anyway, please try to work your magic on him, love. If you could bring him back, I'd be the happiest girl in the world.”

  “Having me back doesn't make you the happiest girl in the world?” Wilhelm asked.

  “It helps,” answered a winking Vala.

  Kylin laid her hands on Larien's chest and whispered, “Come back.”

  The change was instantaneous. The wheezing stopped, Larien's head snapped back, and his eyelashes fluttered.

  Larien's puzzled eyes landed on the most familiar face in the room. “Vala? What just happened?” he asked.

  Vala answered his question with a question. “What's the last thing you remember?”

  “I remember being on the scaffold, about to be Silenced,” Larien said. “Was I Silenced?”

  “Aye. And Kylin brought you back. She's been quite the hero lately.” Vala clapped a hand on Wilhelm's arm. “She brought back my brother as well. And now I've got to ask... what's it like to be dead?”

  Wilhelm compared his resurrection to waking up from a dream, unable to remember the details. Larien descr
ibed a waiting room, bright and crowded, filled with lost souls.

  When they finished their stories, Vala said, “I really am the happiest girl in the world right now. But there's one thing that would make me happier.”

  “Fresh-baked bread?” Wilhelm guessed. His eyes stuck to Kylin's steaming loaf as she pulled it from the oven.

  Vala shook her head. “Nope. Killing Edmore. That would make me happy.” Glancing around the room, she asked, “Would anyone like to join me?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  THE WOMAN IN EDMORE'S bed was young enough to be his granddaughter, but she was older than many women who had carnal knowledge of him. He could barely enjoy the sight of her naked body in the room's flickering candlelight. The constant scrape of branches against his window was a distracting sound, and a portentous wind howled against the pane, testing the strength of the glass.

  Edmore pushed the tempestuous weather from his mind and focused on the lady at his side. He had a peacock's feather in his hand, which he used to tickle her stomach. As she giggled and cooed, he told her, “I'm marching on my nephew's castle tomorrow.”

  “Really?” The redhead's eyebrows shot up. “I thought the day would never come.”

  “As did I... but there's no one left to stop me,” Edmore said. “I would be surprised if Larien's soldiers, given his absence, actually put up a fight in his name. I expect to walk through the castle door, totally unchallenged.”

  “You should have just killed him,” said Edmore's lover.

  “Larien? Well, I did consider it. In fact, I tried.” Edmore wrapped a lock of the girl's hair around his finger, then he leaned forward to kiss the coiled tendril. “It's better this way. No one knows what happened to him, The Council can't persecute me for his death, and when they finally appoint a successor, they'll probably choose me. They would be less likely to choose a man who killed his nephew, don't you think?”

  “Maybe. But I'm tired of politics. Can't we talk about something else?”

  “I can think of something far more entertaining than talk, dear.” As Edmore planted his lips on the beauty's shoulder, there was a clap of thunder so massive, it shook the walls.