She hated this feeling of helpless loss and suspicion. And then, Grandmother Peig’s words came floating back to her: A light that burns too bright will soon burn out. Focus that light upon what matters the most, and you will begin to see the world more clearly.
Was that the answer to all of her problems? Was Grandmother Peig right, after all? Had she been too distracted by her fears, she hadn’t been paying attention to what really mattered to her? Seren furrowed her brow. But what did matter to her? When she had run away from home, she had only wanted to escape those who were trying to kill her. That had been months ago now, and her needs and desires had changed.
Yet, you insist on continuing to live as if that is still your life, her conscience told her. It isn’t your life anymore, Seren. You have forged a new one, and you may take whatever path you wish. This time, however, if you let fear rule you, you’ll have only yourself to blame.
Realization dawned upon her and spread through her body like a ray of warm summer sun. The only thing keeping her from forming a deeper bond with Brenn was her fear of his discovery of her magic. And the only reason she feared sharing her secret was because of what her peers had done to her. But Brennon, and Rori as well, weren’t her peers. They had not hurt her, or ridiculed her, or shut her out. She could trust them, even with the secret of her healing glamour.
Seren shut the book she was trying to read with more force than necessary. She had made up her mind. When Brenn returned from his hunt tomorrow, she would ask to speak with him. She wanted her friend back, the one who had nursed her back to health and treated her with a kindness her own people had never shown. And, she would finally tell him her secret. With a somewhat lighter heart, Seren shared a simple dinner with Rori, then, like his uncle, called it an early night and headed off to bed.
True to his word, Brennon was gone when Seren rose the next morning. Downstairs, she discovered he had lit a fire in the large hearth. She added an extra log in passing, then headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for herself and Rori. Using some of her glamour, Seren kindled a fire in the oven and chose one of the smaller cauldrons from the hooks above. She carefully mixed oats, water, nuts and spices to make a hearty, thick oatmeal. By the time the oats were cooked through, the sun was up and Rori was climbing down the stairs, rubbing his eyes with one hand and clinging to the banister with the other.
“Something smells good,” he remarked, through a yawn.
Seren smiled. “I made us some oatmeal. It’ll keep us warm and full while we play in the snow.”
Rori perked up at that. “I forgot! Is there a lot of it?”
“I haven’t been outside yet, but I can barely see through the windows in here, so I’m guessing yes.”
Despite his eagerness to get outside to play, Rori took his time enjoying breakfast and a nice hot cup of tea.
They shared the task of cleaning the dishes, then headed up to the ground floor to wrap themselves in coats and scarves and to pull on warm boots and gloves. When Seren finally opened the door to the back yard, she gasped in delight.
“What?” Rori breathed. “Seren, what do you see?”
Great piles of snow lay on the ground like thick mounds of sugar. Some of it had spilled under the awning, and Seren could clearly see where Brennon had trudged through the knee-deep drift to create a path down the hillside to the barn.
“Oh, Rori! It’s beautiful!”
Seren’s breath puffed in the air as she took his hand to lead him out into the wintry day. As the two of them crunched through the deep snow, Seren described to Rori what she could see.
“It’s as if someone stretched a great, thick sheet of fleece over the landscape, only this fleece is very cold and it glitters where the sun shines upon it.”
She smiled as she scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it into Rori’s waiting hands. He couldn’t feel the snow’s cold through his gloves, but he did crunch it together into a ball.
“Where are you, Seren?” he asked, unable to hide the mischief in his voice.
Seren grinned, knowing what he planned, but answered him anyway.
“Here,” she chirped.
Rori launched the snowball and it caught her on the leg. Laughing in delight, she darted around the yard, making sure to call out to him or make plenty of noise so he had a fighting chance with his snowballs.
Eventually, the two of them grew tired, and they collapsed in the white powder, sweeping their arms up and down in order to make bird shapes in the snow.
When they felt rested enough, Rori suggested they build sculptures for Brenn to see when he came home from his hunt. Seren readily agreed, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of Brennon’s return. Tonight she would tell him about her glamour, and perhaps even admit she wished to stay at Ardun forever. Or perhaps not. She had until spring, after all. Best to see how Brenn reacted to her news first. Drawing in a deep breath of icy air, she joined Rori and the two of them began piling and shaping the snow.
As she worked, Seren’s thoughts kept swirling around her decision to reveal her healing glamour to the master of Roarke Manor. Perhaps she’d really be able to help Brenn, now that she was no longer afraid of being discovered. She furrowed her brow, wondering just how much damage her glamour could heal. And for some reason, Grandmother Peig’s advice from a few weeks ago pushed itself to the front of her mind once again. She had spoken of Seren focusing her glamour only on the thing she held most dear. Did that mean it might work better on someone who meant something to her? If Ruan, Rori’s rooster, had been her pet and not his, would she have been able to heal him without falling ill afterward?
The sudden sound of a large clump of snow hitting the ground distracted her for a moment. Seren glanced to the side, only to find Rori patting the ground, searching for the large snowball he had been trying to place onto another, larger mound of snow.
An odd prickling sensation crawled over Seren’s skin as a sudden realization hit her. Would it hurt her overmuch if she shared her wealth of glamour between two people, instead of reserving it for only one? Brenn undoubtedly suffered from a sickness no normal medicine could cure, but did Rori not need healing, too? Did she not care for Rori just as much as she did for his uncle? Taking a deep breath, Seren set down the sphere of snow she had sculpted and turned toward the boy. She had already decided to share her gift, so why not begin right away?
“Rori, I’ve always been curious,” she started, deciding to ease her way into what she planned to do. “When you focus on something with your eyes, can you see anything at all, or just blackness?”
Rori frowned, then lifted his head to face her. He considered her question for a long moment, then shrugged. “All I see is complete darkness, except when there is a bright light, like a fire or a torch, then the darkness gets a little yellow.” He pursed his mouth and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to describe.”
Seren lifted a hand. “No, you’re explaining it just fine. May I ask how exactly you lost your eyesight?”
She knew she might be treading on sensitive ground, but if his blindness was a result of some damaged nerves or even broken blood vessels in the eyes, perhaps she could heal them. Seren’s heart began to flutter like the wings of a butterfly trapped in a web. If she could restore Rori’s eyesight … She might just be willing to drain all of her healing magic to the point of death if it meant giving such a gift to this boy.
Careful, Seren, she chastised herself, remember what Grandmother Peig told you.
Seren was so distracted with her own internal thoughts she hadn’t noticed how still Rori had grown. Only when he finally spoke did she realize discussing his blindness was, as she had suspected, a very painful subject for him.
“I don’t really know,” he murmured softly, answering her earlier question. “I was hiding in the barn and someone screamed at me, then there was a great pain in my head. When I woke up, I couldn’t see anything.”
So, a blow to the head most likely. Perhaps, there was hope aft
er all.
Trying to contain the excitement in her voice, Seren said very carefully, “Rori, I want to try something. Do you trust me?”
He must not have expected this question, because he jerked back to attention, his pale blue eyes aimed toward her shoulder.
“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.
Seren squashed down a sudden rush of guilt. Of course Rori trusted her. Why had it taken her so long to extend her own trust to this boy and his uncle?
“Okay, but there is something I need to tell you first.”
Rori swallowed hard, then nodded again. “What is it, Seren? Are you in trouble?” he asked.
Drawing in a deep breath, Seren let it out again while shaking her head. “No, Rori. I’m not in trouble. I have a gift, a very rare gift which could be used against me if the wrong people found out about it.”
Seren thought back to the times she’d argued with her mother about her healing magic. Daniela had insisted she keep it secret. The tribe would only exploit her special glamour, turning her into a slave and forcing her to heal everyone brought before her. She would be too valuable to them and have no free will of her own. Seren had argued back that her gift could be her chance to finally earn the respect of their people. So many times before the fateful day she’d slipped and given her secret away, she’d been tempted to tell the elders. But her mother had always looked at her with such sorrow and fear, so she never went through with it. Only now, did she understand what her mother had meant. It didn’t matter whether or not she was blessed by Cernunnos. She was still the outcast, her power no longer an attribute to finally give her a place among her people, but a threat to all those who once thought themselves far superior to her.
Shaking her head slightly, Seren returned her attention to Rori. The boy hadn’t uttered a word during the past few minutes. He simply sat there, as still as the snow sculpture he’d been creating.
Once her nerves settled, Seren continued, “The Fahndi all have glamour like the Faelorehn, but every now and again, perhaps every couple hundred years or so, or maybe even longer than that, one of us is born with the power to heal serious wounds and breathe life into those who are sick. I have that power, Rori.”
Rori’s eyes grew huge but still, he remained silent.
“Remember Ruan?” she asked, lowering her voice even more.
There was no one around, so she had no reason to worry. She and Rori were alone in the yard. Even the dogs had ventured off into the barn to sleep in the warm hay. But Seren had been guarding her secret for years and breaking the rules, telling another person about her gift, still went against all her instincts.
“Yes,” Rori finally said, his voice raspy with wondrous realization. “Yes! I knew you had done something more than just help him through his shock! You brought him back to life, didn’t you, Seren?”
Seren reached out and grasped Rori’s shoulder, causing the boy to gasp.
“I did,” she admitted. “But it is why I got so sick afterward. I used too much of my magic all at one time. I can’t do that again, or I might grow ill, or worse.”
Rori shivered, but Seren suspected it wasn’t from the cold. “Or you might die,” he murmured softly.
Seren tightened her grip on his shoulder. To her surprise, he flung himself forward, catching her in a clumsy hug.
“Then don’t!” he cried. “Don’t ever use your magic again. I don’t want you to die, Seren! Please, promise me you won’t! Even if Ruan is hurt again. I love him, but I love you more!”
Seren had to fight back tears. “Oh, Rori! Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, I promise!” she vowed.
Gently, she nudged Rori away from her. He was shaking a little, but when he finally calmed down, she took in a deep breath, released it very slowly, and said, “But I do want to try something. Rori, I want to see if I can heal the injury to your eyes. I want to see if I can make you see again.”
The moment the words left Seren’s mouth, the tears began to spill faster from Rori’s eyes. He sniffled, rubbing his sleeve across his face.
“I don’t want you to if it means draining all of your glamour,” he managed between small sobs.
Seren’s hands were still on Rori’s shoulders, and she tightened her grip once more. “I won’t,” she vowed, her voice tight. “I’ll go slow and only use a little bit of glamour. Besides, in this situation, I think it’s best to try and heal you slowly over time. It might work better that way. So, what do you say? Should I try?”
“Will it hurt?” Rori wanted to know.
“I honestly don’t know,” Seren admitted.
Rori furrowed his brow, and Seren felt him shift a little. When she looked down, she noticed he’d placed one hand against his forearm. Layers of cloth and the mittens he wore kept his fingertips from brushing his bare skin, but she knew what he was thinking about. He was remembering the scar on his arm, a result of all the times his uncle had cut him to collect his blood for the Samhain ritual.
Rori took a deep breath and let it out carefully, then nodded. “I want you to try.”
Seren steeled herself, forcing all of her attention on the small boy before her. She could already feel her heated glamour swelling, as if it knew the importance of this new challenge she was placing before it.
“Okay, Rori. I’m going to lay my hands on your temples and let my glamour seep into your skin. Is that alright?”
He nodded. “I trust you, Seren.”
“Let me know if it starts to hurt, okay? We can take this in small steps. Oh, and Rori,” she added, “I can’t promise you this will work. It is only a hunch.”
Rori reached up and hooked his mitten-clad fingers over her wrists. “I know, Seren. But I’m glad you are going to try.”
She gave a weak smile, then carefully pulled her gloves off so her fingers could touch his bare skin. For a moment, she entertained the thought of returning to the house before undergoing this experiment, but she feared if they made the effort to relocate, both she and Rori would lose their nerve. No, it had to be now. Besides, she didn’t plan on pushing her healing glamour too deep this first time. She would make herself stop after five minutes.
Seren lifted her hands and placed her fingers gently on either side of Rori’s head. He drew in a sharp breath and pulled back a fraction, but then stopped himself.
“Ready?” she breathed.
“Ready,” he echoed.
Seren let her eyes drift shut and began pulling on her bright glamour. It flowed forth eagerly, like water spilling between rocks in a creek bed. She felt more than heard Rori suck in another breath, but after that, she lost track of his movements. Instead, she focused on sending that golden stream of healing magic to the nerves and blood vessels behind and around his eyes and even into his brain. Gently, she pictured her glamour splitting into thousands of tiny, root-like tendrils as it sought out Rori’s injury.
A minute passed, then another. Rori’s breathing remained steady, and he never once complained. Seren wasn’t sure if he was being brave or if her glamour was being gentle with him. After nearly three minutes, her magic abruptly stopped its search and instead zeroed in on two spots inside the back of his skull, just above his neck. Feeling her heart rate spike, Seren had to be careful, controlling her power so it didn’t rush forth all at once. A few seconds passed, and she replenished what had been used up fixing the old wound. There was damage to his brain, she realized, damage that had never quite healed from his injury those many years ago. Seren didn’t know much about brain injuries, or why this one had never healed properly. All she knew was her magic was impatient to make it right. Without prompting it, Seren’s glamour flooded the damaged area, trying to bring new life to the nerves and tissue there.
“Seren?” Rori asked gently. “Are you okay? Your hands are very warm, and you’re shaking.”
The sound of Rori’s concerned voice jerked her out of her own head. No! She wanted to shout. No! I know what’s wrong. I can fix it! But she remembered her own promise to herse
lf, and to Rori, that she would only spend a little time on this today. And she remembered Grandmother Peig’s words about burning out too quickly. With a great pang of regret, she called her glamour back. It, like her, was annoyed at being interrupted during its very important job.
I’ll let you try again later, she promised it. We need rest now.
The golden tendrils obeyed then, retreating back into her like tree roots growing in reverse. When all of her glamour was settled in its place, she opened her eyes. Rori’s blue gaze was huge and trained on her face. Seren’s heart began racing again as excitement replaced the rush her glamour had caused.
“Rori?” she asked harshly, reaching out to him.
He lifted his own hand, placing the mitten against her palm.
“Can, can you see me?”
She didn’t dare believe it. It couldn’t have been that easy.
“Y-yes!” he rasped. “And no. I can’t see you like I used to be able to see, but there is color, very faint and very fuzzy, and I can sort of see your shape.”
Seren couldn’t help herself. She cried out in joy and scooped the boy up in her arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
Unfortunately, her moment of celebration was cut short.
“Ah, so you are the lovely young woman the folk of Dundoire Hollow keep talking about.”
The cool, deep voice sent a chill down Seren’s spine, and she immediately got to her feet, nearly knocking Rori over in her haste. She turned to find two men standing at the top of the trail leading down to the main road, a mere ten yards away, their gazes fixed on her and Rori. The man on the left was tall and thin, wrapped from head to toe in layers of white clothing, topped off with a pale grey cloak made of wool. He looked old, too. Not as old as Grandmother Peig, but definitely wizened enough for Seren to suspect he had mortal blood in his veins. The beard falling from his chin matched his cloak and had been plaited into several intricate, interwoven braids. The much younger man beside him was built more like Brennon. He had fair hair and wasn’t as warmly dressed as his friend. Seren wasn’t sure who had spoken to her, but if she was to guess, her money would be on the younger man.
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