Once she felt safe from a certain wandering teenager’s ears, she brought the beryl flame closer to her eyes and spoke into the crackling blaze. “The girl will not be accompanying me this evening. Prepare for her to stay at the town’s Inn. I want eyes on her, Marsden. Understood?” Larae obtrusively barked the words, as her brown eyes brightened to a golden caramel. Her temper also had the unfortunate flaw of showing through her eyes, just like Fey’s. It was a common tell in the Westfall bloodline.
“Yes, madam. I will take care of everything you’ve asked of me. You have my word; Fey will be watched and Aris will be taken care of. I’ll also send Reyson and Wendell to watch over the girl’s every move,” he answered dexterously, adjusting his pointed wizard’s hat as he droned the saying, “Always under your command.” The palm of his hand closed, ending the conversation.
Marsden was Larae’s most loyal servant, acting as The Guardian Protection sector’s right-hand man. This meant he had to do anything Larae asked of him, whether it was for the plight of good or evil. Though he was a boss of sorts, lately, his job title consisted of cleaning up his master’s many messes. He opened his hand once more and spoke into the familiar Orange fire to contact his henchmen as his leader suggested.
“Now, back to the girl,” Larae grumbled, shutting her hand to firmly grip her broom handle. She was already annoyed by the little twat and there was only so much she could take of Fey’s airy ways and bubbly personality. Larae liked things being plain black and white, and fed on being in control.
If I’d been able to have children—I’d be in your place right now, Larae thought zealously. Her white face gathered redness over her cheekbones and her eyes cascaded to a warm, glossy honey as she contemplated the near future.
An orb of light caught in the corner of her eye as she turned to leave the forest. The witch swiveled in her seat to rest her flaxen eyes on the source of the gleam, shifting them over the tall trees and flowers nestled in the brook. By sheer luck, she spied the hiding spot of what she now knew to be a faery, a faery who thought they had carefully chosen a hiding spot.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Larae spat at the tiny creature who was hiding behind a willow’s green tresses. She flew under the tree’s droopy strands of leaves, parting them in the middle and stepping cautiously into the center.
“Hello? Who’s there?” she worded deceptively to sound positively innocent in the hopes that the tiny sprite would appear. A moment later, Reyson and Wendell emerged next to their brooms, landing softly just outside the willows reach.
“Boss said you needed us to watch the Westfall girl?” Reyson asked as he swept a lock of blonde, shoulder-length hair from his grey eyes and glided through the hanging leaves.
“Yes, indeed I did. I need you to follow and escort her around town and anywhere else she’d like to go,” she recounted.
“We can do that,” Wendell answered as he followed closely behind his partner. His penetrating eyes flashed where Larae could see them and his dark features gave no idea into how he felt about anything.
“Good, tell her I’ve left on a call. You will take her to the Inn and watch over her, and under no circumstances are you to tell her I’ve arranged this,” she reiterated as if the men were mere children instead of her gophers.
Both men, who were around their early twenties, nodded at their commander and filed in behind the other. They tacitly made their way toward the old grey house, as they’d been ordered to do. Reyson was in line first, followed by Wendell and then their brooms, which floated three feet above the ground at attention; patiently waiting for their owners to ride once more. Observing that they had reached the Cherrywood porch and were heading for the front door, Larae decided to take her leave. She cocked an eye at the forest behind the wizard's landing strip, since she knew someone, or something was watching. I swear I saw something back there, she murmured, shifting her broom in the direction of the westerly winds.
Brushing off the incident, she whistled to her broom and it promptly floated out of the willow’s grasp and slowly up into the sky. With a kick and cackle, she boosted off with a puff of dark green smoke behind her thrust, which clouded the darkness surrounding the old witch. The time had reached three in the morning: the
witching hour.
CHAPTER 9
Distraction
Only having slept for mere minutes, Fey was startled awake by the door as another knock sounded through its heavy wood. Hex made his way alongside her, weaving in-and-out of her feet as she made her way to the foyer. He rubbed his thick black fur across the bottom of her dress, leaving behind a trail of black cat hair, as usual. He meowed and purred, as if he couldn’t wait any longer for her to feed him. Bending down, she gently brushed the top of his head and smiled, revealing a remarkable set of perfectly aligned teeth.
“I’ll get you something to eat later, Hex,” she muttered under her breath, remembering that it was the same thing she’d told him when she arrived from the forest. He always had a way of catching her at the wrong time to be fed.
“I’m a little busy just now. We have more company in case you hadn’t noticed,” she alerted him, pointing over to the door. Hex turned his nose up and swiftly shot around, flaring his fluffy tail out in frustration.
The girl loved his character, it reminded her of her own demeanor. At first, he started out as her familiar and carried around messages, as well as aiding in conjuring spells. Lately though, he was more of a lazy pet, who rarely went outside.
“Start helping me more, and I’ll double what you get now,” Fey told the feisty feline stalking off in the direction of the kitchen. Seeing that he’d given up, she turned to the door, twisting it ajar. Instantly, she felt another rush of the bristling-cold air smacking her in the face, so hard that it made her eyes water. Fey blinked as the tears began to fall down her cheeks, obscuring her vision of her visitors. Pulling out her handkerchief, she wiped the corners of her burning eyes to see the two young men that stood before her, in weighty, thick, green cloaks that wrapped around their sturdy backs, face, and shoulders. They seemed much warmer than she felt inside the old house, even with the fire blazing in the fireplace.
Suddenly, she wished she’d left her cloak on. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. May I help you?” she asked humbly, pocketing the rag in her side pocket.
“We’re here to escort you to the local Inn. Are you ready to go?” Reyson questioned, exposing a large, nervous grin. She laughed lightly, for she could plainly see how coy the man was being. As she opened the door to invite them in, he locked eyes with her; and she knew the man thought she was attractive.
“Uh, where’s my cousin?” she asked, distracted by the shiny metal broach on the men’s robes. The same symbol that represented The Guardian Protection Faction: an ancient blue snake eating its own body.
Inside the two loops, the snake coiled to represent the infinity symbol. The infinity symbol housed a blue full moon and the embellished broach flashed neon blue as her eyes combed the design. The girl barely caught on to the changes and as she took a closer observation, she caught the flame in the middle of the crescent moon flare bright emerald.
The powers that be have shown me something, she thought as a cumbrous feeling began to stir within her. All her thoughts paused for a fleeting moment and she focused in on the young man whose pendant had caught her eye. Fey would often get small premonitions of the future, dealing with important things in her life. These premonitions typically happened before a major change occurred. The last time it had happened, she was beginning to manifest her powers and control them. It had been a long stretch since she’d experienced a gaze into her future life.
The feeling was unfamiliar and caught her off guard. She got the impression that there was something different about his aura, she could sense it. He wasn’t like the other wizard—the blonde one, who was so forward with his feelings. On the other hand, the dark-haired man was quite reserved and tolerable. Fey would make it a point to talk to him if she
got the chance. I’m not sure why … but, apparently, you’re a part of my destiny. Even as she reasoned with the words, the girl’s thoughts traveled back to the men standing before her.
“By all means, let me get my things. My cousin only just left, and I haven’t had the time to get ready.” She motioned for them to come inside and to take a seat on the couch.
They strode in, and instead, stood next to the door with their hands hidden inside their cloaks. “Take your time, we’ll wait down here,” the man with the flashy broach replied.
He coughed lightly, pulling his hand out to shake Fey’s. “I’m Wendell.” A magnetic smile brightened his features as he gripped her small hand inside his. Hearing her own name leave his lips made her stomach jolt and butterflies shot up through her chest.
“Fey,” she barely mumbled back, feeling her body shrink into itself. She was suddenly aware of her dirty dress and how awful she must look in her tattered clothing.
Wendell reached out and dotingly brushed away a stray auburn curl that had fallen in front of her eyes. “There, you had something in your hair.” He laughed brazenly, handing the girl a willow leaf that easily crumpled inside her firm grasp.
“Thank you … I’ll just be a moment,” a stunned Fey managed to force out of her jumbled thoughts when she dropped the tattered pieces to the floor. Thoughts that were far away from packing her clothes upstairs.
Once alone in her room, she gathered everything she would need to continue self-training: robes, potions, books, and a few dresses and under garments. By the time she was finished, her room was littered with clothing and miscellaneous items all over the floor. My room hasn’t been this dirty since I was 10, she remembered, picking up what she could with what little time she had left. Just before heading out, she checked her appearance in her vanity, and headed back downstairs.
Before passing Gran’s room, she felt a strong, omnipotent force pull at her as a bright light flooded the old woman’s room. What now? Something obviously wanted her to go in. Like any curious witch, she entered against the apprehension holding her back. She didn’t feel it was a good idea to test the higher power that had decided to help. As expected, the room was filled with a spectrum of portentous shadows that seemed to claw at the girl’s arms and legs. Pushing all fear aside, Fey followed the source of the light. It was coming from a jewelry box sitting atop her grandmother’s dresser. Reaching out, she allowed her soft fingers to caress the subtle wooden edges of the box and as she picked it up, the blooming light shined upon her face.
The girl’s eyes brightened again, gradually radiating as she opened the box to reveal its secrets. Puzzled by what she saw, she reached in and pulled out a silver ring with a sapphire setting. How elegant! Why have I never seen gran wear this before? The girl hesitated, losing herself in the cerulean lights that danced off the gem and onto the walls. She was too busy to notice the symbols refracting from the stone behind her to try and translate them. Taking one last eyeful of the exquisite band, she closed the box. This time, the light escaping from within disappeared and the room fell dark once more. She pocketed the box with the ring safely inside, and before traveling back down the steps to the awaiting guards, she took one last look her grandmother. Larae had covered her body with blankets so that she was no longer visible. At least I don’t have to see her terrified expression, again. She wasn’t sure if she could handle it.
“What about Hex, my cat?” Fey remembered he would have no one to watch over him as she came down the stairs.
“We’ll send for him in the morning. It’s best we escort you to town now. Lady Westfall has expressed her concern for your safety,” Wendell answered gently as his bulging arms wrapped around her, urging the girl out the front door. Normally, she wouldn’t allow such behavior, but she was slowly finding out that Wendell made her weak in the knees. What am I thinking? I just met him and I’m already fantasizing about him?
Outside, she felt somewhat free from her emotions. The bite of the air snapped her attention to her broom, which she’d mounted in preparation for takeoff.
“Follow me,” Reyson howled into the night’s sky as he kicked off the frosty ground. Mimicking his energy, she launched herself into the air alongside him. A rush of icy wind smacked her in the face, sending frozen tears back behind her when she shot up into the heavens. Closely following behind, Wendell observed the girl’s chestnut ringlets as a powerful gust of wind swept them about sporadically. The henchmen caught himself marveling at the color of her magic as the fire boosted at the end of her broom, for he had never seen such a bright blue before. It wasn’t long until they reached the very heart of Edelweiss Pines and their destination at the small Inn.
A quiet city revealed itself below their dangling feet and all three stared down at the incredible view of their home. Fey was impressed by the shining lights that elatedly bounced off the massive cloaking spell that sat much like a dome over the entire town. It was only a twenty-minute walk from the Westfall family manor, so the girl usually visited by ground. Never had she seen it at night from above. The view was breathtaking, and the girl made a mental note to never forget its beauty.
Touching down near the Broken Shackle Inn, she spied another faction member standing just outside the main entrance. Marsden. Of course, my cousin must micro-manage everything in my life now that gran’s gone. Doesn’t she understand I’m basically an adult? Feeling her independence was already being cut into by Larae’s controlling ways, she huffed, knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she were Matron, The Protection Faction still dictated safety protocol.
CHAPTER 10
The Inn
“Good evening, Ms. Westfall,” Marsden pipped, clearing his throat as he bent low and flipped his fingers out to grab Fey’s hand. Pulling it toward his lips, he kissed her porcelain skin delicately and set it back down to the girl’s side.
“I’m here to make sure you arrived safely. You’ll be staying at The Broken Shackle until we can get the Westfall manor back in order.” Marsden noted as he took her hefty bag from her aching shoulder. He sensed the despair in her emotions and continued with his greeting.
“It should only take a matter of days and the Mistress has informed me that you will take sole ownership of the house after your 18th birthday. In the meantime, Reyson and Wendell will be watching out for you. If you need anything, do not hesitate to let me, or one of my men know what your heart desires. You will be protected round-the clock.” he stated with tenderness—not at all like his master, Larae. Fey was certain he allowed her cousin to walk all over him, he was too much of a gentleman. His true nature of steadfast loyalty carried with him wherever he went, and he was always obedient to a fault.
“Thank you, I’ll take my leave to my room. Unless there’s something else you need of me, Marsden?” She insinuated genuinely just wanting to get some sleep.
“No, there’s nothing else, my lady. You’re free to go.” He backed away, holding his hands out to let her pass.
“Ms. Westfall, I almost forgot,” he began as the girl traveled up to the Inn’s creaky door, “Wendell will be right outside your door tonight. Should you need anything, he will be there at a moment’s notice.” She took the room key from Marsden with a nod and when the feeling of nausea presented itself, she headed for solitude. Thanking him for his generosity, gripping her full bag that she had taken back from Marsden, she used it to hide the box inside her pocket. Not sure why she felt the need to, she hurried up the stone walkway and inside the warm Inn. The air was a bit musty for her taste and the furniture a tad bit too dirty, but wouldn’t hinder her sleeping for the next couple of nights. She certainly wasn’t one to complain about where she slept, especially with how much she needed it. Even if she had the power, her humble beginnings straightened out any discourteous traits she may have had in the past. The budding witch was humbled by life and all it had to offer.
Regardless of the late-night hour, the bar was as lively as ever. Many of the town's eligible bach
elors and wanderers were fastened warmly in their seats in a drunken stooper, suckling down the ale of the day. A lengthy wooden bar top lined the back wall with moon shaped candle-lit lanterns that donned metal encasings to catch the melted wax from falling on patrons. The more she noticed, the more the atmosphere put her in the mood for a drink…if the establishment would allow it. It didn’t seem like asking much when she’d be giving up her soul to keep an entire town safe. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey, if you have it left, sir.” Fey expressed confidently as she strode up and took a seat on the wooden stool in front of her feet.
“Ye got the funds to be asking fer drinking privileges this eve’nin, do ye?” The barkeep grunted at the young witch taking up a spot at his bar. He paid no mind to the group of men behind her, following her every move.
“Of course, I do.” She responded, pulling out a leather bag filled with golden coins, setting it on the bar top for the dirty fingered man to gawk at. He hesitated, getting an eyeful of the escorts behind the girl, and reached for two of the coins, placing them at the back of the bar in a glass jar near the many different bottles of ale.
“Ye can drink to yer heart’s content fer as long as ye stay, Mistress,” he mumbled in his robust accent, not used to the oppression the faction bore on him.
He rarely had visitors from the higher-ranking families in the town, because most stayed home in their lavish furnishings and rarely stayed at his INN. There simply was no need to.
“I’ll have a whiskey, then, if you don’t mind.” Fey sat her bag to the floor and grabbed the clear, short-glass that the keep sat down for her at once. She was sure this was the fastest any guest got service out of the Inn, and chuckled to herself as she saw him scramble about to fetch her drink. Before he could notice, the girl pulled up the edge of her sleeve and cleaned the area where her lips would meet the glass and the inside of the bottom, setting it back down just as he returned with a bottle filled with brown liquor. The old man poured the girl a generous amount, and refilled it every time she drained the glass. She had 3 shots before she was relaxed enough to retire to her room. She gripped her last drink in her hand and turned around to face the floor of the tavern.
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