The Goblets Immortal

by Beth Overmyer

  The woman, as if reading his thoughts – perhaps reading his thoughts, indeed – twinkled her eyes at him and said, “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”

  If he weren’t suddenly so afraid, he would have scoffed and demanded that she leave him and his head to himself right there and then. However, a creeping dread crawled up his spine, and he resolved hat, whoever she might be, he would not trust her.

  She tsked again. “Really, nephew. Don’t be so taciturn.” She sniffed delicately. The room in which she sat and he stood at a respectful distance was his childhood bedroom. There was the four-poster bed, the nightstand, the stone fireplace and the iron poker. It felt so real, he could feel repulsion to the metal, and the metal to him. The woman laughed in the white velvet loveseat upon which she sat.

  As Aidan watched, the scene shifted. They were downstairs in the library. Now they were in the kitchen, where Molly, his nurse, was stealing scraps from the table. She looked at him once, then went back to her rummaging. Lastly, they stood outside a burning barn behind a young boy with dark locks, screaming for his parents as the very earth trembled.

  Aidan turned in this vision and asked the woman, now standing, “What are you?”

  Smiling, she tapped her nose. “I am shadow. I am shade. You are the door. Open, my son. Open your eyes.”

  He awoke and nearly jumped out of his skin. It took him a disoriented moment to figure out what he was seeing and feeling.

  Slaíne, normally the cynic and door-watcher, lay against him in the grass, shivering in her sleep as she hugged herself. The early morning air bit at him as well, but neither that nor the strange vision were what held his attention. Had the previous night’s revelations ripped down some barrier between them…at least, in her mind? Aidan did not know how that made him feel. But those thoughts were meant to be saved for a later date, for the girl tossed in her sleep, lashing out with her arms violently and nearly clapping him with her elbow.

  But a moment passed, and Slaíne sat upright with a jolt, her eyes opening wide in alarm. She gasped, and her breath clouded the frigid air. She looked over at Aidan, frowning, then scooted away, her face wrinkled up in obvious distaste.

  Aidan sighed. Well, it would seem nothing had changed materially as he had first thought. No need to fret, then. “Good morning.”

  Muttering, the girl stumbled to her feet and into a nearby cluster of bushes. Aidan knew better than to follow her.

  After taking care of some necessary business, he summoned one of the precious water skins from Nothingness. He took a small gulp and waited for Slaíne to return, which she did presently, a frown upon her face.

  She gave him an odd look, and then shook her head. “Right. What are we to do now?”

  Aidan’s chest heaved. It would be dangerous, returning to Breckstone, never mind breaking and entering Lord Dewhurst’s property. The last time he’d been there…. Aidan shuddered at the thought. All these thoughts took but a split second to pass through his mind, before he spoke. “Slaíne.”

  “Sir,” she threw back.

  He arched a brow, but said nothing of her tone. “I cannot ask you to put yourself in peril.”

  Slaíne groaned.

  Aidan held up a hand to waylay her protestations. “However, our – er, connection and circumstances being unique, I fear that cannot be avoided.”

  She looked at him with her piercing gray eyes, and Aidan nearly lost his resolve. What right had he to ask her? Yet, though little did he know of her, he knew well enough not to tread lightly and dance around the issue. He latched his courage on her strong will and continued.

  “Dewhurst lives about four miles from where I grew up. If we are to travel there….”

  “Aye?”

  “We will need to be discreet and swift. I traveled to Breckstone recently to sell my estate to a friend.”

  “Could he help us?”

  Aidan laughed. “That friend has, shall we say, other interests now.”

  It was Slaíne’s turn to raise her brows, but she said nothing, though curiosity burned in her eyes.

  “No, you and I are the only ones we can trust now. I am not well known there anymore, though there may be circulations of my image. I am not known, however, for having a traveling companion.” Here he looked at her pointedly. “If I were to travel as your servant—”

  Slaíne laughed at this without humor. “That’s likely.”

  Aidan gave her a dark look and continued. “Think of it. No one looks to or at the servant, but to the master or mistress. It would, of course, be somewhat inappropriate, a lady traveling alone with no other female company….”

  Her eyebrows rose higher still.

  “But we shall raise questions no matter how we go about this, and less so if you and I switched roles, so to speak. Besides, your dress is fine enough, and my clothing’s worn enough, that this might just work.”

  Slaíne puffed out her cheeks and released a gush of breath. Her frown deepened. “What of…ye know?” She pointed to her mouth, and Aidan understood at once.

  “Your dialect isn’t common around here.”

  “It’s low-class, that’s what it be.”

  Aidan shook his head. “In these parts, no one but a traveler would have come across it. What are its origins?”

  Her face darkened, and her lips formed mutterings as to discourage Aidan from asking further.

  “Slaíne, this is important. If we are to decide upon a cover story, I am going to need all the information you can give me.”

  The look on the girl’s face lightened a little, but she said nothing and reached for the bladder, which he provided. After taking a silent swig, she said, “Well, me mam and fadder were high, I s’pose. But I don’ much recollect them. The elves….” Slaíne paused to growl through her teeth. “They had their own language when speakin’, and I can nay rightly say I caught onto any of it. What I did understand was as you heard when you was ’round them.” She sighed. “Other than that, we talked to folk in many a different town, me mostly doin’ the talkin’.”

  Aidan nodded. “You’ve had a Roma’s life.”

  Slaíne made a face. “Don’ reckon I ever met the kind, sir.”

  While she was talking, Aidan felt for Pulls, still found no human ones near enough to raise alarm, and Summoned some rations he’d stored: an apple and a slice of cheese each, which he’d wrapped up at the inn and Dismissed when no one had been watching. He offered Slaíne her half of the meager meal, and she treated it like a feast. “Let’s walk,” he said through a mouthful of apple.

  The girl only nodded, licking her fingers as they took off.

  Yester-year’s leaves crackled and crunched lustily beneath his boots, and branches reached out to snag his traveling cloak. Annoyed and hindered, Aidan Dismissed the garment from his body.

  In contrast, Slaíne made nary a sound as they traveled, and the brush seemed to treat her more kindly than it did him. She swore through a mouthful of ancient apple, her face enraptured. “Almost good as new.”

  Aidan nodded. “Hunger will do that to your taste buds. Nothing tastes so good after burning off a whole two days’ nourishment in the course of two hours.”

  She swore again, and Aidan bit down on the corners of his mouth.

  “You’ll introduce yourself as an islander.”

  “Which island?”

  Aidan shrugged. “I don’t think it really matters. The coast is far from here, and few will have ventured hence.” He finished his apple and Dismissed the core, wishing to leave no evidence behind of their passing through. “You were traveling with a larger company, but were waylaid by bandits. You, myself, and a few others escaped.”

  Slaíne spat out a seed and chucked the apple’s core deep into the underbrush. “Where are the others, then?”

  “I doubt anyone will inquire this deeply into your affairs, b
ut for caution’s sake, tell people they are on the road south.”

  She nodded. “The vaguer the better?”

  “The less said the better. If you get caught in a lie, don’t lie further to cover it. Stick to the truth as much as you are able. Such as your name.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, keep my name. And what about you, sir?”

  Aidan grinned. “Refer to me as little as possible.” He waylaid her misgivings with a wave of the hand and a quick reassurance that people were not so nosy in larger towns, which is where they were headed.

  The girl frowned. “All right. So I pretend I’m a lady, keep me name, you’s my servant, and then what? How do I get the map from Lord Thing?” Now her feet were crunching, and she was minding the way more than she had previously. Her shoulders hunched forward, and her face creased against the slight breeze that reached down among the low-hanging boughs. Her hair became ensnared by one of those woody hands, and Aidan was forced to stop and help her untangle herself.

  After some time, having freed her, Aidan spoke again. “I need to know where the map is in the house. If I can find its Pull, Dismissing it will be nothing. But since it’s unfamiliar to me….”

  “That’s where I come in.”

  “This is going to be dangerous, Slaíne. Are you sure you’re equal to—”

  “’Course I’m equal,” she snapped. “What else?”

  Aidan let loose a laugh and finished the crumb of cheese he’d allotted himself.

  At this point in their travels, the area became marshy, and Aidan refilled his water bladders, Dismissing any harmful elements. His spirits were hopeful. The weather was fine enough for traveling: not too cold as to numb, but neither too warm as to cause him to work up much of a sweat when moving. The flies, however, were intense in this area. They were of the biting variety, and Slaíne cursed like a sailor as they swarmed her.

  “Can you nay do nothing about these blighters?”

  Aidan shook his head and stoppered the last bladder. “No. For whatever reason, I cannot Dismiss any living creature…save for myself.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he was surprised that he did not wish them back. It had been his secret, his safe-hold. Secrets had always been his escape route, and to throw important ones such as that around – and to a strange girl above that – was most likely the worst thing he had done since selling his estate to Tristram. And yet, regret did not follow.

  * * *

  It was nearing dusk when they reached the main road, which Aidan had been hoping to avoid. His travels rarely took him this far south, and the way was unfamiliar to him. For a moment he stood on the precipice. The wind shifted, and he regained his bearings. “Tanderine blossom.”

  “What?”

  Aidan looked around and, sure enough, spied the yellow blossoms pushing up through the thick underbrush. He smiled a real smile for the first time that day. “Tanderine blossoms grow thickly in a small area outside of town. I haven’t traveled there much since my twenty-fourth year, but I am quite certain we have just stumbled upon it.”

  Slaíne wrinkled up her nose. “Smells pretty, I suppose. Why have I never seen ’em before?”

  “Because they’re specific to this part of the world. They’ve been cross-bred again and again, to get that sweet a smell.”

  “They’re sort of ugly…like shriveled up-old hags with a skin fungus.”

  Aidan chuckled. “Appearances are deceiving. There’s great healing in their nectar.” After a beat, he reached down and plucked one of the blossoms from the earth and studied it. Then, reflecting further on their goodness, he picked with fervor, stuffing the flowers in his hat. If he’d had these when he’d run into the Romas…. Upon further reflection, that was what the antidote was most likely made of.

  He didn’t have to look to know that Slaíne was following his example.

  The glowworms had already made their appearance, and Aidan knew there would be no more traveling that day. They would eat their supper – a heartier slice of cheese and two more apples apiece – after building some structure against the night, which looked to be a cold and wet one. This close to town, he did not wish to light a fire, and with the dampness, it would smoke something terrible.

  “Care to help me?” he asked, setting the overflowing hat on the ground.

  Slaíne added her handfuls to the heap and waited for him to Dismiss the whole lot, which he did without show this time. “Right. What’re we doin’?”

  He pointed to a cluster of trees and asked her to gather brush and any large sticks she could find. Aidan went about, trying to find branches on the ground, and he thought Slaíne would follow suit. But soon he felt a strange fluctuation in the tension between their two Pulls, and turned around to find her scurrying up the side of a tree…without actually touching the trunk. Amused, he stopped his work and bit his lip so that he would not laugh.

  Slaíne had found a thick branch and was standing astride it. She looked down at him, and though he could not be certain, she might very well be smirking at him. “Watch out below.”

  “Be careful. Perhaps you ought to find another— That branch looks too thick to be of use.”

  She appeared not to be listening as she floated up another two feet, then four, aligning her feet with that branch below.

  Time to put a stop to this. “Slaíne, you cannot possibly break that branch. Come down before you—”

  Too late. She shot down at the branch at breakneck speed, and the branch creaked ominously. Again she floated higher, and again she shot downward.

  “Slaíne,” he warned. “You’re going to break something.”

  “Yep!” she shouted, then, “Timber!”

  Aidan ran back a few paces as the branch crashed to the forest floor, scattering leaves and scaring birds in its massive wake.

  A moment later, Slaíne floated down, panting yet grinning. Her smile, however, melted, as she looked at the waist-thick branch with her tongue stuck out from between her teeth. Slaíne sighed and shrugged. “Too big and heavy to move, ain’t it? Guess we’ll have plenty o’ firewood.”

  At that, Aidan burst out laughing, and she had to smile again.

  Aidan hated to discourage her, but the noise was sure to have drawn unwanted attention. Anyone living on the outskirts of town would be drawn in their direction to investigate the noise, and attention was the last thing they needed. With a sigh, he shook his head. “I fear this won’t do.”

  Slaíne’s brow creased. “What, sir?”

  “We should move on perhaps a little further tonight.” As he said the words, the sky began to spit down on them…not a heavy rain, but a thin mist. He caught a shiver and smiled at her ruefully.

  She nodded and followed him away from the fallen branch.

  Before crossing the main road, Aidan felt for Pulls, satisfied himself that there were no travelers within their immediate reach, and they both crossed the way, trembling against the cold and damp and trying to leave as few tracks as possible. By the time he thought it a safe distance to stop, there was but a bit of daylight left. They ate their supper, such as it was. Slaíne shook so hard that Aidan feared she might miss the apple entirely and bite her lower lip instead. It was not a satisfying meal. Aidan didn’t know when they’d be able to restock their food supplies, seeing as he was a wanted man in Breckstone; they had to be thrifty.

  Once they’d finished eating, Aidan found a giant evergreen, beneath which they would sleep. He crawled under after Slaíne, who swore as the needles prickled her.

  “Can you nay get rid of ’em?” The second he collapsed next to her, she surprised him by grabbing and clinging to him, her breaths coming in clouds that hung in the air above them. “Well?”

  Her hands were cold against his chest, and her thighs against his waist were…. Lucidity left him for a moment, and he forgot what she had asked him.

 
“Ouch!”

  Aidan jolted back to reality. “Try not to move about so much.”

  She swore at him through chattering teeth. “These blasted needles will be the death of me.”

  With a sigh, he felt for their thin, fragile Pulls and Dismissed as many as he could sense. It didn’t take long, and as soon as he finished, he tried extricating himself from her tight grasp, which was rather strong for someone so slight. But she appeared to have fallen asleep, so he gave up trying.

  The hours trickled by like sand down the throat of an hourglass. Aidan watched through the branches as the sun finished its descent, and the moon climbed to its highest point, and all the stars lit up a cloudless sky. The night dug its nails into him, leeching the warmth from his body. At once he was thankful for Slaíne’s warmth and strove to think nothing more of the situation.

  Dew fell. The night-dwelling creatures pitched their songs into a cacophony of sound, until, the moon sinking, the creatures grew still and left Aidan to believe the sun’s dawning was near.

  The night through he tried running the plan through his mind. It was a feeble one at best, downright deadly at its worst. But they needed that blasted map…if Larkin hadn’t been lying about it in the first place.

  Perhaps, Aidan mused, I should simply Dismiss all the paper and parchment from the house. It was an idea, a somewhat workable one. Yet there was a problem: What if the paper was concealed by iron? Or what if the map was not made of paper at all, but painted on oilskin? There would be no knowing. He could try Dismissing all the paper and oilskin he could sense, and sort through it at a distance, seeing if he had discovered the document. But how much paper might Dewhurst’s manor contain, and what then if the map was not among that which he had Dismissed and Summoned? It would look suspicious to Dewhurst if all the paper goods had gone missing from his home, and the issue of theft would be raised. Naturally, all the vagrants, Romas, and foreigners would be rounded up and questioned, drawing so much attention to Aidan and Slaíne as to prevent their attempting the theft a second time. No, they would get one chance at this, and they had better get it right. No map meant no Goblet. No Goblet meant an angry Meraude, no answers, and another bounty on Aidan’s head.