Sister of the Dead

by Barb Hendee

  He took another step out of the trees.

  The branch slid through his grip, and green needles tore away to litter the ground. His other hand hung at his side, and something in it glinted once in the fading daylight.

  Magiere couldn't breathe. She stared at his hand. Not the one with the strange glint, but the other... slowly stripping the branch bare as bone.

  "Magiere, where are you?"

  When her aunt's voice called out her name, Magiere gasped in a breath and looked back the way she'd come, but Aunt Bieja was still too far off. She turned back, and Adryan was gone.

  The bare branch quivered in the air. There was no house anymore with her mother waiting in welcome....

  A squeeze on Magiere's upper arm startled her from memory. Leesil's fingers circled her arm, and concern marred his tanned features. He leaned close enough that she heard his quick breath in her ear.

  "What is it?" he whispered.

  Magiere shook her head, tried to smile, but this only made Leesil frown in suspicion.

  Wynn dropped her pack by the table and inhaled deeply as she examined the cooking pot.

  "Are... this... esoni tjeto... are these shoshovitzi?"

  Her jumbled speech with its mixed-in Belaskian broke the moment, to Magiere's relief.

  There were few of her thoughts that she could explain to Leesil while others were present. When she looked away from him, she found Aunt Bieja watching the two of them. Magiere's discomfort rekindled.

  Her stout aunt cocked an eyebrow at Wynn's words. Magiere was grateful that it offered a way to avoid both Leesil's and her aunt's curiosities.

  "Are these lentils, " Magiere translated for the young sage. "Wynn doesn't speak much Droevinkan as yet, only Belaskian. "

  "Ah, we don't get much of that foreign tongue this far off the main ways, " Bieja replied. "I remember a little of it, but I'm half a life out of practice. "

  The young sage pointed to the cook pot as she looked to Bieja for approval, who nodded. Wynn grabbed a folded cloth nearby with which to grip and lift the pot's lid. She smiled broadly, replaced the lid, and set to digging through her pack and pulling out small pouches.

  "May I?" she asked Aunt Bieja in Droevinkan, and switched to Belaskian as she spoke to Magiere. "Tell her this one is rosemary. "

  Magiere did so, and Aunt Bieja chuckled as she examined each of Wynn's herbs. The two women exchanged one- and two-word questions and answers in mixed tongues. Chap inched closer to sniff the pouches, though this turned out to be a ploy to nose his way toward the cook pot. Leesil stepped in to grab Chap's haunches and pull back the struggling dog.

  Bieja still wore the same purple dress Magiere remembered, though now it was far more faded. Several times Magiere had sent money when she was fortunate enough to find a land-bound merchant heading inland toward Droevinka. She should have known Bieja would give such coins to the village instead of spending it on herself.

  The sight of her aunt's kind face, with its broad dimples and wrinkles, filled Magiere with guilt. She'd never sent word of purchasing the Sea Lion, yet nine years later, her aunt welcomed her as if she'd been gone but a moon.

  Magiere felt Leesil's hand slide up her back again, and he whispered, "You all right?"

  "It's good to see her, " she answered.

  It was a half-truth and the lesser part of all her thoughts. When she reached up to touch Leesil's shoulder, Aunt Bieja glanced at them again. Magiere neither pulled away from Leesil nor removed her hand. Leesil, not noticing they were watched, stripped off his charcoal scarf and shook out his white-blond hair.

  Magiere tensed, forcing herself not to look toward her aunt this time.

  Superstition ran deeper here than even the back ways they'd worked in Stravina. She wasn't certain how her own flesh and blood might react to someone of Leesil's unusual ancestry.

  "Whatever you're making smells wonderful, " Leesil said.

  Chap yipped in agreement, which earned him a pat on the back from Wynn. The sage looked happier than Magiere had seen her in some while. The hut was warm and dry, and the scent of lentil stew was mouthwatering.

  "Supper for all, though we'll need to stretch it a bit, " Bieja answered, and after a moment's hard appraisal of Leesil's hair, she turned to gather more things from her shelves. "Then I think you have much to tell me. "

  Magiere took a deep breath.

  She hauled the bench to the table for Leesil and herself, and they were all soon enjoying the luxury of well-seasoned stew, some late pears, and a loaf of black forest bread. Wynn made small noises of contentment as she ate. Magiere realized the meal was not far from the food served back at the sage's guild. Only halfway through the meal, a loud belch came from under the table, followed by the licking of chops. Chap had finished before anyone else.

  The closeness around the fireside table wore away Magiere's first impressions upon stepping into the hut. She'd barely finished a few spoonfuls when Leesil pushed his emptied bowl back.

  "So, what exactly was that mob about back there?" he asked of Aunt Bieja.

  Magiere stopped eating and stared at him.

  "Magiere hasn't told you?" Bieja asked. "About why she left?"

  "She wasn't happy here... wasn't well liked because of her father. But she didn't mention anyone trying to run her off with pitchforks. "

  Magiere dropped her spoon into the bowl, shifting on the bench. "Leesil—"

  "No, I want to know what's going on. "

  Wynn's attention swung back and forth around the table as she tried to follow the conversation. However, Bieja's glare was purely for Leesil.

  "Auntie, " Magiere said, hoping Leesil would remain quiet, "we've come to find answers about my mother... and my father. And there's much to tell you—"

  "I can see that for myself, girl, " Bieja answered, and folded her hands upon the table.

  "I'm not sure where to start, " Magiere continued. "For now, we need to know what you know. Things you might not have told me. Little things that seemed not to matter might help. Especially about my father... anything from the first time you ever saw him. "

  Magiere waited as her aunt pondered for a moment.

  "Perhaps family matters are best left to family, " she finally said.

  "No. " Magiere settled her hand on Leesil's forearm. "They are part of this.... It's not just me anymore. "

  Again, Bieja hesitated. "There were three of them. "

  "What?"

  "I told you... your father took your mother when he first came here as lord of the fief, but three of them came that first night. Two noble... but the last was a masked thing in a char-colored robe. He's the one who maimed Adryan with no more than a slap. "

  "Adryan's face?" Magiere asked. "His scars... no one would talk about it. "

  "You can blame that on Yoan, " Bieja growled. "Along with the rest of the hog swill poured out over the years. Oh, some truth was well known enough, but he said we'd best keep quiet or invite more misery. And all else that followed, I was forced to obey. " She shook her head and mumbled something under her breath. "Adryan tried to protect your mother. They were betrothed—at least he thought so. "

  Magiere sat silent, chilled inside even near the fire. Through the childhood suffering, the one person she had trusted was Bieja, but her aunt had kept secrets.

  "What do you mean forced?" she asked. "I've never seen you give in to anyone's wishes unless they fit with your own. "

  "I lived in fear for Magelia, " Bieja said. "My sister was my only companion, and they took her. Sometimes servants came and told us stories of her walking in the courtyard, heavy with child, but she was never allowed out, and we weren't allowed in. I tried many times, sneaking as close as I could, but never saw her and got beaten down twice by patrolling guards. The rest concerning your father you already know. One night, one of those noblemen who took Magelia came to me. His shirt was stained with blood when he brought you within hours of your birth, as well as the armor, the amulets, and that sword. He said they were gi
fts from your father. He also brought Magelia's blue dress for you. That frightened me more than anything else. The next day, a man-at-arms brought your mother's body down for me to bury, and that was the last we saw of anyone from the keep. I guess they left in the night, though we didn't know it for a while. Not for certain until the next lord assigned to this fief arrived a half moon later. "

  Bieja closed her eyes a moment.

  "I tried to hide you at first and managed for a time. When Yoan found out, he wanted you exposed, cast out in the woods to die for fear of what ill-fortune you'd bring down on the village. I used your sword to hold him off, and told him the village might face worse if we killed a noble's child, forsaken or not. I would have said anything to save you, but fear is the only thing these fools understand. So Yoan and the others let you be—for the most part. But you were still a reminder of those men's ill-favor upon us, especially to Adryan. "

  Magiere looked away, not wanting to hear any more. Bieja had lied to her for years, but Magiere couldn't escape the image of her aunt holding Yoan off with the falchion.

  "I'm sorry, " Magiere said. "But you should have told me.

  "You were too young, and why burden you more? You'd enough to deal with as a child. "

  "What was this lord's name?" Leesil asked.

  Bieja shook her head. "That was a long time ago, and we weren't worthy of such information. We just called him 'my lord. '"

  "Was it Massing?" Leesil pressed.

  Wynn straightened, recognizing this one word. Magiere felt as if she'd been struck in the face and turned on Leesil.

  "It had to be said, " he whispered in apology.

  "Perhaps others heard it, " Bieja said, pondering the name for a moment. "I can't remember. "

  "Who is the current lord?" Leesil asked. "Maybe there are still records or some other mention to be found at the keep. "

  "No lord, " Bieja answered. "I guess the Antes couldn't find anyone willing. Our zupan, Cadell, was appointed as overseer. He and his wife are at the keep now. Cadell is a good man, at least. You can go speak with him tomorrow. "

  Magiere barely heard her aunt's response. Each time she sought plain and direct answers, the truth, like all else in her life, became muddied.

  "Enough for tonight, " Leesil said. "Your aunt is right. We can go to the keep tomorrow. "

  Wynn had been trying to follow the exchange, and Magiere assumed she'd probably understood some of it. The sage sat up straight, on the point of speaking, then appeared to change her mind. She slid off her chair to the floor and began whispering to Chap. The dog looked at her and pawed at the sage's pack. Wynn pulled out the Elvish talking hide, and the two of them went to sit in the corner by the spinning wheel.

  "What in the world are those two doing?" Bieja asked.

  Magiere sighed. "A long story. "

  "The long ones are the only ones worth telling, " Bieja responded, and her attention turned once again to Leesil. "And I've a few questions of my own. "

  The older woman got up to pull a tin kettle from beside the fire. She poured tea into unglazed clay cups for the three of them, and Leesil started to fidget.

  "Well, it's sort of... We have this..., " he began.

  Bieja clunked the kettle down and snatched up the side of Leesil's long hair, exposing one oblong ear.

  "Hey!" was all Leesil got out.

  "I knew you were wrong somehow!" Bieja shouted. "What do you think you're doing with my niece, you imp?"

  She lunged to the shelves and grabbed an old notched carving knife. Leesil sprang to his feet, both hands going up his opposing sleeves, reaching for his stilettos.

  "You may have charmed her wits, but I see you clear. " Bieja said. "I know of changelings. I know a forest spirit, right enough. "

  "What—?" Leesil sputtered. "I'm not—hold off a breath!"

  Before Magiere could grab Leesil or try for her aunt, Leesil's surprise and reluctance undid them both. Instead of drawing steel on Magiere's only relative, Leesil back-pedaled. The bench caught behind his legs, toppled, and Magiere tumbled over backward to the hut's floor.

  "Auntie—no!" she shouted, and kicked the bench out from under her legs.

  Bieja rounded the table, closing on Leesil, who scooted backward across the floor as fast as he could. She stomped on his outstretched leg, pinning one of his feet.

  "And you aren't taking her into your zunu world, " she snapped, "like some lost maid in the woods!"

  "Magiere!" Leesil yelped.

  He sounded more pathetic than she'd ever heard before, but it was Wynn who scrambled across the floor on all fours, waving her hands up in front of Bieja.

  "No, not... bad... friend, " was all Wynn could get out.

  Bieja shoved her off with little effort. "Get your addled wits out of my way, girl. He's charmed you, too. "

  The delay was enough for Magiere to regain her feet and grab Bieja's wrist.

  "Auntie, stop it! He's not some lecherous spirit trying to drag me off. He's just an elf. "

  "I am not, " Leesil snapped, pulling up his stomped foot and holding it with both hands. "My mother was. "

  "Bog swill!" Bieja spat. "No such thing as elves—that's just foreigners' tall tales. No such creature has ever been seen hereabouts. "

  "Oh, deceitful deities, " Leesil muttered.

  Chap let out a yawn from the corner, where he still sat throughout the ruckus. Wynn whispered harshly at the dog in Elvish. Magiere wasn't certain what the sage had said, but Chap looked away, dropping his head.

  "You're a big help, " Leesil said to the dog.

  Chap huffed and lay down on the floor.

  The irony of Bieja's exclamation hadn't escaped Magiere. She wanted to pour out the whole story to her aunt, who still loved her without question, who had held off a village elder with a sword and assaulted the evil forest spirit trying to beguile her niece.

  But she couldn't speak of everything.

  Not that she and Leesil had spent late summer and early fall hunting vampires of myth and superstition. Not that she was descended from these same Noble Dead who preyed upon the living. And certainly not mat for years she'd made a living—and even sent home part of the coin—from swindling villagers out of their savings using their own fears against them.

  "Leesil and I own a tavern... but mat came later, " she said. "And elves are flesh and blood, though few have seen them. Leesil's mother was one of the few who've lived among humans. For the rest, I don't know where to start. "

  Bieja eyed Leesil, clearly uncertain if her niece was of her own mind. "How did you meet this here... elf?"

  "I'm not an elf, " Leesil muttered.

  "He tried to pick my pocket, " Magiere said without thinking, and her aunt glared at Leesil with malicious intent.

  "That's not what happened, " Leesil blurted. "Well... sort of. "

  Magiere sighed and carefully lifted the knife from her aunt's grip. Some things had to be explained, if not all.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  L eesil awoke the next morning to a chilly room. The fire had died in the night, and mere was a chill in his stomach, as well. Today, they visited the keep where Magiere's mother had died.

  Magiere woke beside him on the dirt floor and pulled back their blanket. Her stoic front couldn't hide the dread in her eyes. The sooner they finished with this, the sooner he could take her from this place.

  She remained silent through their light breakfast, and this bothered Leesil as never before. Perhaps because mere were so many unanswered questions concerning Magiere's past or even questions he couldn't yet imagine. However, now that Aunt Bieja was certain he wasn't going to spirit off her niece, she sat and chatted with him, explaining all she could of local affairs. The zupan tending the keep and fief wouldn't be available until midafternoon. Still but a commoner himself, he had his own lands and household to tend, so he preferred dealing with fief matters in the early afternoon, and left any audiences for late in the day.

  "Fief matters?" Le
esil asked. "What exactly does he do?"

  Bieja smiled. "We're more fortunate than most clanships.

  Cadell handles the accounting himself and checks to see how the villages in each zupanesta in the fief are faring. There are five villages alone for our clan's zupanesta. If disaster strikes any village, and they cannot pay all their taxes, he faces the collectors of the Antes house himself. "

  Leesil's fondness for Aunt Bieja grew steadily, although she could be a little daunting at times. Strong and sensible, she was knowledgeable in spite of a lifetime of superstitions. After the previous night's misunderstanding, it was plain that lightning tempers coupled with protective natures ran in this family's women.

  "Well, if we can't visit the keep until later, " he said, "what can we do around here? By necessity, I've gotten handy at mending roofs and old furniture. "

  "I understood some of that, " Wynn said, clearing bowls from the table. "If we have the morning free, I would like to wash out some clothes. Magiere?"

  Magiere nodded as she shook out her black hair and began to braid it. "We'll tend to our own needs while we can. There's no telling when we'll have another chance. "

  "Here, let me braid that for you, " Bieja said, stepping around behind her niece.

  Magiere stiffened, but Bieja smoothed wayward wisps of hair back from her face. Magiere relaxed as her aunt's nimble fingers weaved and plaited.

  Leesil tried not to stare but kept glancing over again and again. Bieja took her time, perhaps making up for the years she'd been unable to care for her niece. With an ache in his chest, he got up to step outside.

  The rest of the morning was spent washing and repacking. Leesil split firewood for Aunt Bieja and stacked it beside the hut. They avoided the other villagers as much as possible, and no one stopped to visit. The day would have been peaceful if not for Chap's fretting and scratching at the door. But whenever Leesil let him out, he'd look around the village and whine pitifully.

  "What's wrong with him?" he asked Wynn.

  Wynn tried speaking to the dog with the talking hide, but shook her head. "He keeps saying horses and journey. He wants to leave. "