Marsilia glanced up at Fjell before returning her gaze to her pa. “Can’t you come with us? If we stay in the Fae realm?”
“No, daughter,” the pooka rumbled. “I need to go deep into the wilds, and you have new obligations. Fear not. This is not goodbye, but just a momentary parting of paths.”
Furrowing her brow, Marsilia worried her lip in thought for a moment before Fjell’s hand tightened on hers.
“I need to see my father and my uncle,” he said, looking down at her. “It would give me strength to have ye at my side, if yer willing to come with me.”
Marsilia paused, looking down at her plain black wool cotehardie. The beautiful silver trimmed one she’d so loved had been destroyed in the battle against the necromancer. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought of meeting Fjell’s father looking so ragged when everyone she’d met always looked so regal.
Fjell caught her look and smiled, reaching over to tap a knuckle under her chin. “I said I was going to court ye,” he said. “It’s past time I see that ye get some clothing better suited to yer skill and station.”
“Oh, I mean—” she began but Eudon’s deep rumble of thought cut her off.
“He’s right,” the pooka said. “I brought you up to be humble, to not chase riches, but appearances do matter to those of power and you have entered that world now. Come here, daughter.”
Releasing Fjell’s hand, she closed the distance to her pa. Eudon laid his hands on her shoulders, atop her dryad-fur stole, and closed his eyes. The autumn leaves on the ground below them began to swirl up around her, layering over her old, thread-bare dress. They drained slowly of color as they coated her dress from neckline to hem.
When finally the browned leaves fell away, her dress was transformed. The thread-bare cloth was thicker than before, the black wool woven through with thread of gold and crimson. The buttons, before plain black, shone with gold metallic thread in the morning light. It was still a simple dress. The cut had not changed, and there was no trim, but the rejuvenated cloth gave it a sense of something more. Shuck whimpered at her side, nudging his nose under her hand and she scratched his ears absentmindedly.
Stepping back, Eudon looked her over slowly before nodding. “Fjell will get you something more appropriate,” he said, glancing past her shoulder to the dwarf before returning his gaze to her. “But for now, this will grant you better passage at his side.”
Swallowing back tears, she leaned forward and hugged Eudon. “Thank you, pa. I’m going to miss you.”
“As I’ll miss you, daughter,” his gravelly voice answered as he embraced her in return. Pulling back, he held her out at arm’s reach, looking her over. “Mind yourself. Appearances are important, but do not let yourself be seduced by offers of riches.”
“Pa, it’s not like that,” she began but Eudon frowned sternly at her.
“I do not mean Fjell,” he said, glancing past her again to give the dwarf a nod before returning his gaze to her. “As those in power hear of what you have accomplished, they will start to court you, try to draw you to their service. Be mindful of what they really want; do not be blinded by what they offer.”
Releasing her, he turned his gaze to her dwarven prince. “And you, Fjell. You proved yourself worthy of my daughter’s heart by honor and merit, and you have sworn to protect her. I hold you to that, and thank you in advance for looking after her and being her advocate.”
Fjell bowed low before Eudon. “It is my greatest honor,” he answered, raising up and taking her hand again. “And my greatest charge. I don’t take the matter lightly.”
Eudon nodded at him before looking down at Shuck and Astud. “You two guard her well too, Shuck, Astud, as you always have.”
The dog whimpered and leaned heavily against Marsilia’s leg, making her stagger a step into Fjell. The dwarf smirked down in amusement, squeezing her hand, but Marsilia frowned. What did he mean, as they always had? She’d only just met Astud.
Before she could ask, a swirl of magic began to engulf them, autumn leaves spiraling around the seidkona, the dwarf, the dog, and the raven.
“I will see you soon, I promise,” Eudon said as the leaves grew thick.
“Pa, wait,” she called, but the leaves grew thicker and when they fell, they were in the halls of Svalterfhiem.
Fjell looked down at her with concern in his glowing golden eyes. “Ye alright, elskan min?”
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, one hand wrapped in Fjells, the other deep in Shuck’s fur. “I have a lot of questions for my pa suddenly,” she said quietly. “But… I think maybe he needs some time on his own.” Raising her gaze to his, she furrowed her brow. “I thought there would be a happy, clean cut end to our quest.”
Fjell smiled back gently, turning to trace his fingers across her cheek. “That’s only for stories, elskan min. Life’s far more complicated, aye? But I’m glad to have ye with me, here and now.”
Reaching up, Marsilia tugged on his beard - shortened from burning in the necromancer’s attacks, but still long enough for her to grab. He smiled in amusement and leaned down, kissing her lightly.
“So… your father?” she asked nervously.
“Aye,” Fjell answered, taking her hand to guide her into the dwarven kingdom. “Don't fret. He’s going to adore ye, I know it.”
The End
Name Pronunciation Guide
Ailbhe: ALL-vay
Arne: AR-ne
Astud: ah-STOOD
Aymon: I-mon
Eogain: YO-wen
Eudon: YOU-don
Fjell Ulfson: FYELL ULF-son
Grisell: griz-ELL
Hemin: HEH-min
Herne: HERN
Isabel: IZ-ah-bell
Marsilia: mar-SIL-ee-ah
Nibelung: NIH-be-lung
Rohesia: row-HEH-see-ah
Sten: STEN
Trien: TREEN
Tusenfryd: TOOS-en-freed
Ylva: UL-vuh
Creature Guide
Dryad: (DRAI-uhd) a type of forest nymph from Greek mythology and folklore
Gwyllgi: (GWIHL-gi) demonic dogs from Welsh folklore, often associated with death
Nuckelavee: (nock-AH-la-vee) horse-like sea demon from Orcadian folklore
Nykkjen: (NIK-yen) shape-shifting water spirit of Norweigen folklore
Pooka: (POO-kah) shape-shifting creature of Celtic folklore
Shuck: Black Shuck, Old Shuck, or Shuck. A ghostly black dog from East Anglian folklore
Seelie Court: the summer court of elves and fairies, adapted from Scottish folklore
Unseelie Court: the winter court of elves and fairies, adapted from Scottish folklore
Wild Fae: elves and fairies unaffiliated with either the Seelie or Unseelie courts
The Wolf and The Warlock
Book 2 of The White Witch Trilogy
Coming Summer of 2020
About the Author
Kathryn Reynolds was born in Houston, Texas to an obsession of dragons, unicorns and magic. As she grew, that obsession spread into history and folklore, and she began her first world building and story crafting with her best friends at the tender age of ten.
Now living in northern Colorado, Kathryn continues her personal studies of historical clothing, courtly graces, and martial combat in medieval reenactment.
When not working on her next story, she enjoys hiking in the mountains with her husband, knitting with her Maine Coon curled up at her side, and drinking unreasonable amounts of tea.
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The Blessing of Equinox Page 24