Duplicitous Magic

by Linn Tesli

  “Welcome, Everine Vargens of Beregend. I much long to look upon the child you carry with you. Your courage may change the fate of the world—and yet, it may not. We shall see. I’ve put the kettle on and prepared a bed for your wounded companion. See you in a wing’s flutter.”

  12

  The Healer

  - Everine -

  A throbbing sensation ran through Everine’s body, waking her as Ondox planted his feet firmly on the ground.

  “We’ve arrived,” Ondox said.

  Everine slowly opened her eyes. The dimming light of the evening sun had almost disappeared behind the treetops. She shook her head, attempting to catch her bearings. It had been a long flight. Her body ached, and her stomach growled.

  Everine caressed Ayva’s cheek and searched for Birken’s pulse. She exhaled with relief. His pulse was faint, only a dull pounding beneath her fingers, but still it beat on. She untied them from Ondox with stiff fingers and slid awkwardly off his back.

  An eerie voice startled her as the echoes from a dream sounded in her ears. “You need a hand with the heavy one?”

  “Do I look like an Earthling to you?” Everine rolled her eyes, flexing her sore arms. Then she held her palms up. She had not intended to be rude. “Apologies—it was a long journey.”

  An old woman pushed passed her, latched onto Birken’s forearms, and pulled him from the griffin with surprising strength. Birken landed with a thump on his back.

  “Hey,” Everine exclaimed. “Be careful.”

  The woman ignored her. She continued to drag Birken along by his arms as if he was a freshly caught bear. Everine considered trying to help, but the woman was already several strides ahead of her, and Everine barely managed to wobble forward on stiff legs with Ayva clutched in her arms.

  The old woman headed for a large ginkgo with extremely dense foliage. Everine blinked in surprise. Embedded into the trunk were an arched wooden door and a triangular window.

  Everine followed the woman silently towards the trunk. Of all the things she had seen since leaving Beregend, this was likely the least surprising. She paused only to turn and nod her thanks to Ondox, who was resting under a maple, preening his feathers.

  The smell of herbs and incense tickled Everine’s nose as she stepped into the trunk, and a crackling fire inside a stone hearth offered a welcoming heat. A funnel-shaped clay chimney was suspended above the hearth. It ran upwards to be embraced by the woody roof. The circular room housed a bed, a rocking chair, a tiny stove, and a wooden table with four mismatched chairs. Glass jars and wooden boxes in a variety of sizes stood atop a row of wooden shelves carved into the trunk of the tree.

  Everine recognized a few of the herbs she could see housed in the jars, but they also held birds’ feet, an odd collection of wings, and a number of items she could not identify. Nothing much hung from the walls apart from a few kitchen implements and a marvelous painting of the shimmering white castle of Êvina. She rubbed her eyes at the sight of her homeland.

  Tearing her gaze away from the painting, Everine saw that the woman had deposited Birken onto the bed. The beat of her heart stilled, and, for a second, numbness spread through her. His sandy skin had adapted a dull shade and there was hardly any color in his face. The idea of Birken not pulling through was worse than anything they had experienced together thus far. It would break her apart if she gave it too much thought.

  Birken’s feet were propped up on a bench at the foot of the bed. The woman sat cross-legged, already busy cleaning his wound. Everine could not help but be impressed that she had been able to drag Birken all the way onto a bed.

  Whatever else she was, she was not human.

  “I can do that,” Everine said, forcing her eyes to stay open and ignoring the prickling sensation on her skin.

  The woman angled her head, looking Everine up and down. “You’re dead on your feet, Miss Vargens. I’ll handle it.”

  Everine swayed. The old woman was right, of course.

  The woman’s lips formed a thin line on her face. “He would have lost his leg for sure if you had been much slower. I think he might keep it now.” She slid a wrinkled finger over Birken’s leg, leaving a thin, pink line in the pit of blood covering his calf. “If he lives till the morning, that is. He’s got a nasty fever. An infection, perhaps.”

  Everine made a silent plea for his recovery, but a stinging sensation pained her breasts, interrupting her thoughts. It was feeding time. At least there was something she could do. She sat in the rocking chair by the small hearth, nestling Ayva in her arms. Her child was a blessing in times like these.

  While Ayva drank, Everine studied the woman. Her silver hair was spiked and frizzy, and her body was short but slender. Lines of growing wrinkles on her dark skin framed her crimson eyes. Everine didn't find her plain-looking at all.

  “Seeing as you already know my name, I would like to know yours,” Everine said.

  The woman barely twitched her lips, her smile was so brief. “Is that a question? You should be more specific with your wording.” She tutted annoyingly, as though Everine was a child who had done something naughty. Then she shrugged her shoulders.

  “If you feel it is of importance, the name is Gaija. I am a healer, of sorts.” She pulled one hand through her frizzy hair, leaving it even more of a mess. “That information was free of charge, by the way.” Gaija pulled at the corner of her mouth to imitate a smile.

  “And a mind reader?” Everine let the words slip out.

  The healer removed a rag she had placed on Birken’s forehead. She dipped it in a bucket of water, wrung it out, and placed it back on his face. Then she returned to her seat at the end of the bed.

  “No, I don't read minds. That’s a power mainly bestowed upon those with the gift of sorcery. I do, however, receive visions.”

  “That does not explain how you came to be in my head,” Everine insisted.

  “I was dream-walking. It requires some preparation, but I am quite skilled at it. Besides, I’ve long known you were to come here—one way or another. Now, I’ve done what I can for him.” She inclined her head at Birken. “The rags must be changed every so often throughout the night. The rest is up to him.”

  Everine sighed. “Thank you.”

  Gaija crossed the floor to hunch down in front of Everine. “May I meet her now? Oh, I so want to meet her.” The healer rocked on her heels. If Gaija had possessed a tail, Everine was certain it would be wagging uncontrollably.

  The healer reached out her hands as Everine handed her Ayva.

  “Oh, my,” Gaija gasped. “What a treasure. She’s our salvation, you know. Or maybe you don’t? She is, above all, our only hope.”

  Everine gaped. Salvation? Hope? She didn't have a clue as to what Gaija was referring to.

  The healer lifted Ayva higher in the air, never taking her eyes off her. “Oh, I am so thrilled you decided not to kill her.”

  Everine fidgeted with her sleeves at the reminder, averting her face. Heat burned her cheeks. Sucking air into her lungs, she exhaled and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Ayva.”

  Gaija waved a hand at Everine. “Not to worry. We have all wanted to kill someone at least once in our lives. Some of us have even acted on the instinct. It can be profoundly satisfying, though I am glad you were brave enough to hand this one your heart instead.”

  Aurora’s dying face flashed into Everine’s mind, and she relived the last moments she had seen her sister.

  The healer guffawed as Ayva’s irises showed visions from the healer’s own past. “Such a treat you're,” she murmured.

  Ayva beamed, and Gaija returned her joy with twinkling eyes.

  “I’ll follow you to the ends of the world if you so wish. This I vow to you, little queen.”

  Everine froze. “Queen? Why call her that?”

  The healer didn't even blink. “Because it’s what she was born to become.”

  “Please stop speaking in riddles!”

  Gaija cautiously returned Ayva
to Everine’s embrace. “No need. Your heart already knows the truth.” She went to fetch Everine a buckskin and placed it on her lap. She then proceeded to change the rag on Birken’s forehead. “That rocker is quite comfortable for sleep. I would give it a try if I were you. I’ve got a basket for the little one if you’d like, but it looks as though she’s just as happy sleeping in your arms.”

  So used to keeping Ayva close by then, Everine much preferred her where she was. She declined the basket but happily accepted the buckskin. As her eyelids dropped, Everine caught a glimpse of Gaija sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, her hands resting on her knees, palms up. Her eerie voice filled the room with a long-forgotten song.

  Sereana’s velvet vocal chords echoed deep within Everine’s mind as she remembered how the Siren would frequently recount the tales of old in song. Everine missed her friend’s soothing voice. She much preferred it to the healer’s. Gaija’s voice was tuneful, but it was husky and contained an edge of foreboding.

  Gaija’s tune followed Everine into her dreams. It was a song so old that Everine didn't recognize the language in which it was sung. The songs of old from Caradrea clearly differed from those of Ûnda, Sereana’s homeland. Within the dream, Everine found herself dancing barefoot in the center of a grove. All the people she had loved and lost surrounded her. She spun around until she was so dizzy she fell to the ground.

  With her back against the grass, Everine watched as the cloudless azure sky slowly darkened with black smoke. She sat to find the ground around her covered in crimson; everyone she knew had been slain and lay on the ground around her. Life had been torn from everyone except Ayva, who now appeared as a grown woman. Her eyes blazed with fire as she attacked Everine with a sawn-off unicorn’s horn in her raised arm. Everine screamed so loud her throat burned.

  She woke to find rays of sunshine flowing in through the triangular window above Birken’s bed and Gaija, bending over her, holding out a cup of tea.

  “To ease the nerves.” She leaned in and studied Everine’s face before apparently deciding she was fine.

  “Hey, Ev, would you mind toning down the damsel in distress business? You know, the screaming and all that? I was halfway out of this bed before I realized there was no danger.” Birken propped himself up on his elbows. “And then I remembered I was no use to anyone anyway.”

  His voice was a blanket of warmth. Everine stood, nearly knocking the tea out of Gaija’s hands in her haste and embraced him heartily. Collecting herself, she sat by his side on the bed.

  “Good to see you awake—and alive.” Everine smiled.

  “Yes, well…yes, that’s good.” Birken grinned back at her.

  Ayva stirred in Everine’s arms, attempting to reach for Birken. Everine laid her down on the Earthling’s chest, and he raised one hand to pat her on the head.

  “Hey there, precious. I had a dream about you.” He gently tickled her neck. “I might tell you sometime. Your mother was in it too.”

  Ayva giggled, then turned her face toward his chest, her mouth searching for something she definitely would not find there. Picking her up, Everine returned to the rocker.

  While Ayva fed, Gaija kept busy by the fire, stirring some sort of concoction in a big, black cauldron.

  “How long before he’s healed?” Everine asked.

  “I’d say it’ll be a good long while before his wound is fully healed. Perhaps it never will be. The arrow seems to have caused damage to the nerves.” She fed another log into the flames.

  That was a dreadful thought.

  Everine could not imagine Birken suffering this injury for the rest of his life. “Alright, then how long before he can travel?”

  “A while.” Gaija turned her back and kept stirring, adding pinches from a number of jars into the blend. “It would be much quicker with magic, you know.” Gaija dipped her hand into a glass jar, retrieving something that looked like it might have been a pixie once.

  She held it in front of her. Tiny ochre wings flapped in the steam that poured over the edges of the cauldron. “Would you allow me to perform a trick or two to help the process along?”

  It was tempting, and Everine much preferred not to stay in Catyan Forest any longer than was necessary. She wanted so badly to accept, but Ondox’s warning whispered through her mind. Magic is never without consequence. She shook her head at the offer.

  Gaija placed the pixie back in the jar. “Pity,” she muttered, pursing her lips.

  It took longer for Birken to recover than Everine would have liked. It was a very gradual process. Ondox stayed the whole while. Whenever Everine and Ayva came out to visit him, the impressive griffin was obsessed with looking into the baby’s eyes, even as he spoke with Everine. For her part, Everine enjoyed their long conversations.

  Although thankful for her help, something about Gaija put Everine on edge. She didn't appreciate the healer’s cryptic speech and the frequent intrusions into her dreams.

  As soon as Gaija said that Birken had recovered enough for them to depart, Everine wanted to leave. It was so late in the day, however, that Ondox asked that they rest through the night before their departure. Everine conceded, though it agitated her more than she let on.

  In need of privacy, she left Ayva with Birken and wandered by herself among the nearby trees. It was the first time she had been completely alone since Ayva had been born.

  Everine trusted Birken more than she had ever trusted anyone. She was relieved to find that she could relax in the knowledge that he was looking after Ayva. Inhaling deeply, she tasted the refreshing air of the evening on her tongue. The forest was peaceful.

  She turned at the sound of twigs cracking and quickly adopted a defensive stance. Her whole body was alert. She gasped as cold metal stroked her neck.

  A familiar voice whispered in her ear. “If I had meant you any harm, you would already be a byline in the scale of time.” Gaija released her hold on Everine and sheathed her knife.

  “You scared me halfway to the otherworld!” Everine shouted, anger rising to replace the fear she had felt.

  Gaija blinked once. “Yes? You really ought to take better care. The woods are not safe for you to wander alone.”

  Everine huffed and patted down her clothes. “Well, I’ll be heading back, then.” She was about to turn on her heels when Gaija’s strong hands grabbed her arm.

  The healer used Everine to steady herself as her eyes rolled back, leaving a misty haze of grey in their sockets.

  Holding her ground, Everine waited. The Healer clung to Everine with a tight grip and her body went rigid. After a few disturbingly long heartbeats, Gaija’s eyes returned to their normal crimson. The healer dropped to the earth.

  “So much violence. So much death. Aradria seeks balance, but at what cost? I don't know what future will unfold, but as it stands, the decisions we all make will lead us there. It will either be our redemption or—more likely—our doom.”

  Her words sent a shiver through the trees. Even the ground shook in response to her ominous foreseeing.

  Everine’s stomach twisted into knots, but she gulped down her fears. “This has to do with my daughter?”

  “With the one you name your daughter, yes, though we both know her true heritage.” Gaija regained her fervor and stood.

  Everine said nothing to deny the truth.

  “We might not survive the reckoning, but I intend to go out fighting if I have to. I would strongly advise you to spend as much time as possible practicing your combat skills. you'll need them in the future.” Gaija stepped close enough for Everine to feel the healer’s hot breath, coated with the scent of boysenberries, on her face.

  “I’ve decided to tell you a secret. I think what I am about to tell you might change the turn of events, one way or another.”

  Everine ensured they were packed and ready at first light. Birken urged her to slow down, but she would not have it.

  Gaija followed them outside. Everine knew she should be grateful to the healer
. While she didn't like it one bit, she was compelled to be polite.

  “I’m in your debt,” she said.

  Gaija cocked her head. “Yes, you're,” she responded. “We’ll meet again.”

  Despite knowing the truth of those words as soon as they were spoken, Everine decided she would try to avoid such an occurrence anyway. It was a welcome distraction when Birken cleared his throat.

  “I owe you too, healer.”

  “Oh, don’t mention it, my boy. Happy to help.” Gaija winked.

  Everine took a deep breath and made her own goodbye. When they had climbed atop him once more, Ondox bent his head to Gaija, stomped his feet, and took to the sky with a single bound.

  13

  The Chasm of Bermunnos

  - Everine -

  Catyan Forest disappeared into the distance, and the Caradrean plains spread out beneath Ondox’s wings. The vast mountain range on the horizon signaled the end of their journey. It stretched the length of the border to Sonûdor, its majestic spine extended well out into the ocean on either end of Bermunnos Mountain. It served as a division between Sonûdor and Caradrea.

  The wind howled around them.

  “It certainly is something to see,” Birken roared above the noise of the strong air currents from behind Everine.

  She pulled her fingers through the loose strands of hair that had been torn from their coif. “It certainly is,” she shouted. Although the scenery amazed her, Everine was uncertain what she would face once they reached the chasm’s depths.

  Birken had assured her that Bermunnos would be the safest place for them, but she doubted anywhere would be truly safe enough for Ayva.

  A sudden surge of wind whisked the rest of Everine’s hair loose and prompted her to turn her gaze eastwards. Although the day was clear and sunny, dark thunderclouds had begun to gather over the plains with increasing speed.