by Sam Ledel
“And nothing Father and Brennus can’t handle, I presume.”
Her mother smiled as she threaded the ends of the braid so that it stayed in place. “Precisely. And I believe Drest will be joining them this time.”
Aurelia scoffed. “He can make a lot of noise and agitate our best horses along the way.”
Her mother chuckled. “They’ll be out and back before you can conjure your saol.” Aurelia nodded. She looked down as her mother tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “What is it, darling?”
Biting her lip, Aurelia weighed whether or not to tell her mother about the other night, about Jastyn and the bracelet and how she now felt completely silly about the whole thing. Though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Thumping her index finger against the table, she decided to ask a question instead.
“Mother, what do you know of our horse master?”
Her mother, who had been pulling her own hair into a braid that she pinned to the top of her head, said, “Elisedd Eidhin? Sweetheart, whatever do you wish to know about him?”
Standing, Aurelia hurried to the other side of the room and jumped into bed, the blankets already turned down thanks to Roisin. Her feet slid under them until they bumped hot stones set in a pan, the warmth emanating from it sinking into her toes. Aurelia spoke slowly, unsure what to say, “I have gotten word that his daughter is unwell.”
Her mother stood from the bench, one hand on her hip. “Yes,” she said solemnly, “that has been true for some time now. She’s such a young thing, too, poor girl.”
“Alanna.” Aurelia pursed her lips and pulled the blankets closer. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her. She settled deeper into the pillows as her mother walked to stand beside the bed.
“You know her?”
Aurelia shook her head. “No, I…I’ve met her sister. Just the other day.”
Her mother blinked. There was something in the back of her mother’s eyes, deep within the piercing circles of her pupils, but it vanished so quickly Aurelia was unsure it was ever there to begin with. Dechtire watched her. “Elisedd only has one daughter.”
“Oh, for some reason, I thought…”
“Yes?”
Aurelia smoothed the blankets around her. “I must be mistaken. I met a village girl…woman…the other day who claimed to be related. I’m sure they are simply good friends. Like sisters but not quite.”
Her mother smiled, though her expression remained cautious. “That must be it.” She paused as if considering what to say. “I’ve known Elisedd for some time. He worked on his family’s land when I was little. Before I met your father.” Aurelia admired the way her mother’s cheeks grew pink at the mention of her father, even after all of these years. “You know I grew up just beyond those hills?” She gestured to the closed window, where rain tapped lightly against the pane.
Aurelia nodded. “I recall the stories.”
“Good,” she said, patting the post of the bed as if it needed reassuring as much as Aurelia. “Well, Elisedd is a good man. And he’s been married for some time. But he and his wife only have one daughter, as far as I know.”
Aurelia opened her mouth to protest, to tell her mother everything that happened in the stables and to request she send aid to Alanna. But she considered the other option: a quest of her own. Something she knew that her parents did not. This was something she could dig deeper into. Something she could have control over. Somebody she could help.
“All right,” she said, giving a yawn and an exaggerated stretch.
“I’ll let you rest. I’m sure there will be much to hear about in the morning regarding your father and brother.”
Aurelia bid her mother good night, and when she closed the heavy door behind her, Aurelia turned on her side to face the trio of flickering candles next to her bed. She watched the flames, her mind dancing as excitedly as the light.
Perhaps Drest was right. Maybe the woman they encountered in the barn was a common thief, looking for a way to their wealth. But Aurelia could hardly think such a thing before she knew it couldn’t be true. The way Jastyn carried herself, as if she carried so much in each movement; the look in her eyes when Aurelia told her there was nothing she could do to help Alanna, as if she had encountered another inevitable obstacle in her life. All of this made Aurelia confident that Jastyn couldn’t have been lying. She nodded as if to reinforce her final verdict on Jastyn’s character, then blew out the candle.
But another thought occurred to her: how was it her mother believed that Jastyn didn’t even exist?
Chapter Eight
Jastyn pushed aside a low-hanging branch on her way to Eegit’s meadow. Her insides had been in a knot for the last week, and she had finally worked herself up to visit the hedgewitch. For nearly eight days, she had mulled over whether or not to go, her mother’s worries at Eegit’s ability to take such matters seriously echoing through her mind. But Alanna’s cough grew worse. Fits shook her body over breakfast and kept her from sleep in midnight hours. Finally, Jastyn couldn’t stand to watch the brave smile her sister wore for another minute.
Thus, after Elisedd left for the castle at dawn, Alanna went to sell woven goods at the market, and Branna took their second chicken to be sold, Jastyn went out into the Wood. She grabbed an apple from a grove she passed along the way. Chewing on it nervously, she checked multiple times that the handful of gooseberries her mother had picked that morning was still tucked into a cloth inside her satchel.
Jastyn fought the unease crawling over her skin and making her fingers tremble. She tried to let the green leaves that hung down—heavy with last night’s rain—comfort her anxious limbs. But even the quiet of the deep Wood, where she carried herself by memory between trees and over exposed roots, could not lift the heaviness she felt inside. Eventually, she stepped from the shadows and out into the sunlit meadow, where, despite the humidity, an orange fire glowed brightly outside of Eegit’s modest hut.
Before Jastyn could greet her, Eegit—crouched in front of a pile of charred bones and crumpled leaves—spoke first.
“Child, if you’ve come to stomp around my home, now is not the time.”
Jastyn replied, “Stomp? Eegit, I could surprise a tree-dweller, I know my way so well.”
Eegit guffawed. “Ha! I heard you coming for the last half hour.”
Moving to stand beside Eegit, Jastyn crossed her arms over the worn tunic that fell to her knees. “Does this warm welcome mean you’re closer to bottling luck?”
Eegit swayed slightly. She extended a shaky hand over the fire, and a fistful of shimmering dust fell into the flames. They smoked and flickered a faint gold, making Jastyn step back at the brightness.
“Not yet,” Eegit eventually replied, more to herself than to Jastyn. “But I won a bundle of pixie dust from the tree nymph two knolls away.” She stuck her tongue out between her teeth, seemingly transfixed by the fire. “I’m getting closer.”
Eegit stood, wiping the rest of the dust on her torn breeches. She shuffled around to the other side of the fire while muttering under her breath. Meanwhile, Jastyn paced nearby, fingering the bracelet inside the pocket of her tunic.
“Out with it, child,” Eegit cried. “You’re only doing yourself harm biting your tongue like that.”
With a sigh, Jastyn pulled the bracelet out and held it in her palm so that the rubies glinted under the warm sun beginning to peek from the clouds overhead. Before she could inhale, Eegit was in front of her, bent over the silver bracelet, a grin stretching from one jutted cheekbone to the other.
“Child! Where did you find such a thing!”
A familiar sense of pride welled in her chest. As a result, the anxiety from her walk here began to dissipate.
“It’s from the Princess Diarmaid.”
Eegit snapped her head up so quickly that Jastyn was nearly bowled over by the tangled nest of hair atop it. Her eyes lit up.
“Princess Aurelia Diarmaid? Daughter of Grannus and the humble Dechtire Diarmaid?”
Jastyn hastily recounted the tale. As she expected, Eegit only blinked at her story, then glanced back down at the piece of jewelry when Jastyn finished with Alanna growing worse each day.
“I need your help,” she concluded, ignoring the way her own voice cracked. “There’s no one to trade this with in the village. I could buy out the alchemist, but his remedies are useless. I was wondering if you might know someone who could help. Somebody…in the Wood.”
Eegit’s chapped lips twitched, and she gestured for the bracelet. She looked it over like a herder mining through a sheep’s wool for ticks. She held it up to the sky, shook it, and even licked one of the red gemstones. With her arms crossed, Jastyn watched, resisting the urge to hurry the process along.
“Curious…this princess…to hand such a thing off to a perfect stranger.” She squinted, staring into the metal band.
Jastyn let out a laugh. “Curious is right. Here I thought the royals were educated. What could she possibly think something like this could do for Alanna?” She pictured the princess lounging inside a castle chamber, munching on slices of cheese and counting her many fine possessions.
Her face hot with renewed frustration, it took Jastyn a minute to realize Eegit was watching her with a knowing smile.
“What?”
“You’ll find out, child.”
Jastyn was about to ask what she meant, but Eegit returned her gaze to the bracelet after handing it back. “I may know of someone.”
Hardly able to contain her excitement, Jastyn leapt forward. “You do? I knew you would.” She paused when Eegit eyed her. “Well, Coran knew you would. How do you do that, by the way?”
Eegit only waved a hand and strolled toward a collection of rotten apple cores, berry leaves, and crusts of bread lying next to a melon-sized boulder a few paces away. After digging through the pile, she pulled out the remains of a half-eaten apple, picking off bugs and specks of dirt.
“You wish to trade this bracelet, is that right?” Eegit asked, walking back to the fire where an open box of herbs sat near the circle of stones surrounding the flames.
“I do. For Alanna. I don’t know how much time she has…” Jastyn trailed off. She cleared her throat and ran a hand down her braid. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Very well,” Eegit said, plucking a rectangular vial from the box and standing in front of Jastyn. “I know somebody who may be willing to trade.”
“Anyone. I’ll go.”
Eegit held Jastyn’s gaze for a long moment. “What do you know of the Red One?”
Jastyn thought back to the stories her mother told her as a child. They had spent almost every night before her mother’s marriage huddled close together by the hearth while her mother told her of the many fae who were said to roam the Wood.
“Do you mean the leprechauns?” she eventually asked.
“Not just any leprechauns…the leprechaun. The Red One is the Elder, the head of all leprechaun clans that dwell in the woods of this kingdom and beyond.”
“All right,” Jastyn replied, rubbing her hands together. “Tell me where I can find this Red One.”
“Do you know the brook that lies near the druid’s meadow?”
She nodded. Of course she knew that meadow and everything surrounding it. It wasn’t far from where, twelve years before, she met the sinister fae from all her mother’s tales.
Willing herself not to linger on those memories and the dark rider, Jastyn watched Eegit crouch before the fire once more. She held the apple core, gnawed on and grimy, and dropped two liquid droplets from the vial on it. The core glowed a dull yellow, then all at once, the formerly rotten apple remains became whole again and were coated in gold.
“Craving something expensive?” Jastyn asked playfully.
Eegit grunted and stood. “You’ll need this for your trade.” She held the golden apple up.
“But I’ve got the bracelet. That’s what I’m offering.”
Eegit clucked her tongue. “The Red One is not your everyday barterer for shiny coins, child. You will need to coax it into a deal. Entice it…with this.”
“Fine.” Jastyn groaned, taking the apple from Eegit’s hand. “Anything else I should know?”
Eegit looked into the sky. Thin clouds drifted by, and sunlight shone down between them. “Yes,” she muttered. “When the moon is exactly half-full. That is when the Red One will be ready to meet.”
“That’s in nearly two weeks!” Panic clanged in her chest, and she struggled to keep her composure. “Eegit, that’s too long.”
Her eyes fixed skyward, Eegit tilted her head as if to see the clouds better. “Yes. Half-full. And you should be grateful, child. The Red One only appears for trade three times each year.” She shrugged and wandered back to the fire, which had faded to dull embers.
Disheartened, Jastyn pictured Alanna shivering beneath her blankets for the next two weeks. Her fists clenched in new rage, and she glared at the clouds. Jastyn felt spiteful looking up at the billowing shapes. Perhaps she could will the sky to change over. Perhaps she could make the moon go through her phases faster. She cursed the endless gray. Couldn’t somebody understand how her sister suffered?
“I recommend carrying some of those gooseberries when you go.” Jastyn returned her focus to Eegit, who sharpened the end of a brittle bone with a rock. “The Red One always appreciates something sweet.”
Rolling her eyes, Jastyn walked dejectedly toward the trees that led her home. She kicked a rock on the matted grass patch with the toe of her boot when all of a sudden, Eegit popped in front of her, clear out of thin air.
“Gods!” Jastyn cried, stumbling back. “I forgot you could do that!”
But Eegit’s face was serious. She raised her bony, vein-riddled right hand and spoke in a hurried whisper. “Be warned, child. Do not take this trade lightly. The Red One is one of the cleverest fae to ever live. They survive on wit alone to get what they need. What they want.” She held out her hand, and Jastyn was surprised to see the princess’s bracelet. Fumbling, she grabbed at her pocket and felt the thin outline of the band.
“But…”
“Do not believe everything you see,” Eegit said slowly. Then she flourished, and the bracelet transformed into a thin green snake that slithered up her arm.
A shudder overcame Jastyn, and she swallowed to quench the dryness in her throat.
“The Red One will look into your mind. It will try to offer you more…try to tempt you.” She stepped forward, her eyes wide as they looked into Jastyn’s face. “Do not allow it to fool you. No matter how enticing the offer appears to be. Do you understand?”
Jastyn nodded. “I will stand my ground. I always do.”
Eegit’s beady gaze held Jastyn’s a moment longer. Then, her eyes flickered, and she yanked a twig out from somewhere on the back of her hair. After examining it for a few seconds, she glanced up as if remembering Jastyn was still there.
“Go on, child!” She waved and hurried away, back to the fire.
Slightly bewildered, Jastyn shook her head. Then she called over her shoulder, “Thank you, Eegit. I won’t forget your advice.”
Once she was a few paces into the trees, Jastyn smiled when Eegit shouted after her. “And don’t forget the gooseberries, either!”
Chapter Nine
“Please, Roisin. I cannot bear to go through more of this!” Aurelia exhaled loudly, throwing her arms onto the wooden table. Her maiden sat across from her, draped in one of Aurelia’s old gray cloaks which she had unclasped over her wide frame to bring some relief from the warm night air. Roisin scooted back in her chair as the princess flung her head down atop her left elbow.
“M’lady,” she said sympathetically, leafing through several pages of the leather-bound botanical book open between them, “we’ve only ten pages left.”
Aurelia moaned and looked up imploringly. “You would think I knew enough of this by now that my mother wouldn’t require we review such trivial nonsense.”
“
Trivial nonsense? Is that what you call healing magic these days?” Her mother’s voice called from the corner of the room. She stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookcase packed tightly with jars and tin boxes containing herbs and crushed plants, the contents of which Aurelia knew so well that she could find whatever remedy within them blindfolded.
Under the gaze of her mother, Roisin shrank in her seat, but Aurelia only sighed and sat up. “No, Mother. You must have heard me incorrectly.”
“I must have. Roisin,” she added, “kindly resume the lesson.”
“Yes, m’lady.” She and Aurelia exchanged guilty looks. “Let’s see. What if you’re out in the Wood and you get bit by a spider? What do you need?”
“Plantain. Plantago major. A low, short plant with wide and round leaves. Its veins run parallel,” Aurelia stated, running her hand along the edge of the table.
Roisin nodded and turned a page when Aurelia’s mother spoke. “That was very good, darling.”
Aurelia stood and moved across the room to join her mother, who added several new bunches of yarrow herb to a box wearing the same hand-written label. Seeming to read Aurelia’s mind, she said, “Sweetheart, I understand you are anxious to put your skills to practice.” Aurelia leaned against the wall near a window that overlooked the stables. “Soon we will go together into the village. We will make a day of it.”
“You’ve said that since I was sixteen.”
Her mother’s eyes crinkled at their corners. She adjusted the pin at her breast, then reached out to run her fingers through Aurelia’s hair.
“I promise,” she said softly. Then she grabbed both of Aurelia’s hands and held them. “But not right now. It’s too much, what with—”