Spellweaver

by Tamara Grantham

  The wind battered loose strands of dark hair over her face. When she spoke, it was with a quiet tone. “It is true that I was controlled by Geth, but that is no longer the case. I have seen the error of my ways, and now I know him for who he is. He is a traitor to both my people and everyone else. When I found out he was planning to destroy the Everblossom, I tried to stop him, and that is why he imprisoned me. No, I no longer follow that man, and if you allow me to take you to my brother, he will tell you the same thing.”

  I eyed her. I wanted to believe her, yet she still carried the goblin blade, which made me distrust her. Was there more to the story? “Let me get this straight—you chose not to follow Geth because you didn’t agree with his decision to destroy the magic?”

  A pained expression filled her face. “That is not the only reason. It is…” She paused, and then started again. “It is difficult for me to speak of my past.” She lowered her shirt collar to reveal a bruise surrounding her neck. “This is how he controlled me. For a time, I told myself that he loved me and would someday see the error of his ways. But now I know that I was wrong. He will never change, and so I will never follow him again.”

  “I see,” I answered, not sure what else to say.

  “Will you allow me to take you to my brother?”

  “If you speak the truth and have had a change of heart, then I will follow you. But know this—I will still be wary of you. You have tricked me once before, and I will not allow it to happen again.”

  She nodded. “Then I respect your decision. Come, we must hurry before night falls.”

  I followed, holding tightly to my pack as she led me across the beach. Waves crashed offshore. I watched Heidel as we walked up a small slope. I wanted to believe her, yet I’d had too many clients who’d sworn to me they were changing their lives and leaving their past behind, only to return to it once again. However, once they decided to change, they never looked back.

  What other choice did I have but to trust her? I’d arrived in an unfamiliar place, and finding my way would be impossible without help.

  “Where are we, exactly?” I called to her.

  “Volport,” she answered, looking over her shoulder. “The only halfway-civilized village on the inner islands. And that’s a bit of a stretch.”

  Volport. I’d heard of it before. Heidel was right. It had a reputation. Criminals and the seedier folk congregated in places like Volport.

  Great. Just the place I needed to be with the current inventory in my pack.

  As dusk descended, nobbinflies appeared over the water, leaving ribbons of light in their wake, though I noticed their usually vivid pink-and-blue streamers were barely bright enough to illuminate the encroaching darkness.

  The sand muted our footsteps as we passed by a large rock outcropping. As we crested a hill, the town came into view.

  Volport was nothing more than a tatty collection of log-planked, two- and three-story cabins. Lights glowed with a hazy luster through the smoke-tarnished windows. The sharp odor of dead fish wafted through the air. Beyond the town, tall ship masts rose into the air and spanned the shoreline as far as I could see.

  As we entered the village, we navigated through the narrow, cobbled streets. Human and fairy creatures alike milled about. There were a few pixies with tattered, sagging wings that brushed the ground behind them. Several elves wearing mismatched, soiled clothing lumbered down the streets. I even spotted a goblin in its true form walking with its knuckles dragging the ground. The creature looked emaciated with ribs peeking through its transparent, milky skin, and its mouth gaped to reveal bleeding, toothless gums. I would have been frightened if the creature hadn’t looked nearly dead. Most of the humans wore cloaks with hoods that overshadowed their eyes. I spied lean, hungry faces beneath their cowls and looked away quickly, instead focusing on the path ahead of us.

  Heidel walked with an air of confidence. She pulled her knife free once again and held it casually at her side. As we approached the town square, clouds gathered overhead, making the air grow chilly as night replaced dusk. Heidel pointed out a building that was larger than the others and rose not far from the town’s square. A wooden sign with copper lettering read Sailor’s Reprieve Inn and Brewery.

  “We’re staying here. If I were you, I would keep to myself. I can’t say that everyone is eager to welcome you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  As we stopped outside the inn’s broad doorway, she shrugged, offering no further explanation. Then, Heidel pushed the door open, and we entered the building.

  The air was thick with smoke, and the sound of raucous conversation made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the large group of people sitting near the room’s center. I recognized most of them as Wults, though they dressed differently from the Wults of the main tribe. These Wults wore white animal skins and sheepskin cloaks, and for the most part, their hair and eyes were lighter than those found in the main tribe. They smoked thin, curved pipes that gave the room a yellowish haze, and the smoke seemed to cling to everything—the wood-planked floor stained with years of smut; the tables cluttered with crusts of bread and half-filled tankards; the two fireplaces on either end of the room; even the antler candelabrums hanging overhead were dimmed by the thick cloud of smoke.

  I closed the door behind me and followed Heidel into the room, anxiously hoping to spy Kull in the crowd, but as I scanned the room, I saw no sign of him.

  “The Wults of the Northland tribe have agreed to go on this fool’s quest with us,” Heidel said. “I have no idea why, except that my father personally invited them.”

  “Why would your father do that?” As far as I knew, the Wult tribes didn’t get along well.

  “He wishes to form an alliance. His marriage to my mother was supposed to quell the fighting, but his kinsmen resented his choice, and so the quarrel has continued for many years.”

  “Was your mother from the Northland tribe?”

  “No. My father is a Northlander.”

  I guess it made sense. King Herrick’s light hair and eyes were characteristic of the Northlanders, but how did King Herrick plan to strengthen their alliance with the other tribe?

  A woman broke free from the gathered Wults and made her way toward us. She stood a head taller than me, and her penetrating blue eyes gave her an air of authority. Her lean, muscled frame was made feminine by the golden-weaved girdle she wore around her slim waist. Light, loosely curled hair cascaded down her back, interspersed with several small braids.

  “Olive,” Heidel said, “I’d like you to meet Lady Kethildr of the Northland tribe.”

  “Call me Ket,” the woman said.

  She spoke with a commanding voice that was softened by her gentle smile, and when she offered me her hand, I shook it.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” Ket said. “Tales of your bravery have made it all the way to our tiny fort in the barren waste of the Northlands. Which, given our remote location, is an unusually difficult feat, I assure you.”

  “I’m certain the tales are exaggerated,” I said.

  “Well, that is likely, considering our storytellers are prone to exaggeration. Yet you defeated the Dreamthief, did you not?”

  “Yes, I defeated the Dreamthief, but I had help. I couldn’t have done it without my friends.”

  “Then I am pleased to be your ally. I will feel safer with you by my side.”

  “Thank you,” I answered, though I hoped she didn’t put too much faith in my abilities.

  Ket turned away and joined her companions.

  Heidel eyed me. “She pays you a great compliment. I pray you can live up to it.”

  “Yeah, you and me both.”

  Heidel led me to a steep staircase at the back of the room. Torches set in sconces lined the walls, and as we ascended, they cast flickers of light over the thick wooden banister and illuminated the animal hides covering the log-planked walls. The heat from the two fireplaces became suffocating the higher we went.

 
; When we reached a landing at the top, we followed it to a narrow hallway. The conversations from downstairs became muffled; though, as we neared the hall’s end, I heard shouts of another sort. Heidel paused by a set of broad doors. The shouting intensified.

  I glanced at Heidel.

  “My brother and father wait inside,” she said.

  My heart sped up as she opened the doors. It felt like it had been so long since I’d seen Kull.

  Inside the room, Kull and his father stood at arm’s length from one another, both with clenched fists. Chairs and tables lay haphazardly on the floor. A fire roared from the room’s only fireplace, radiating heat over both of their reddened faces.

  When I stepped into the room, Kull’s eyes locked with mine.

  “Olive.”

  Kull said my name quietly, and it seemed as if all of his anger vanished as he said it. He crossed the room and grabbed me in a tight hug, lifting my feet off the ground as he breathed into my ear.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

  He smelled the way I remembered him, of sandalwood and spruce. I fought back the lump in my throat. I hadn’t felt complete until this moment.

  “I missed you,” I said, though it was a complete understatement. I’d missed him so much it was beyond my ability to explain in words. It was like a piece of me had been missing, and now I’d found it again.

  I ran my hands through his hair and then let my fingers trail along his jaw and lips. With one finger, I wiped away a spot of blood and then cupped his chin. His intense blue eyes caught me off guard, making me forget to breathe.

  He kissed me. My skin tingled at the feel of his lips on mine, and I let the kiss deepen until the room faded away. It was just him and me alone, together, with no worries, with the entire universe before us.

  King Herrick cleared his throat.

  I pulled away, and my cheeks grew hot as I realized we’d done that in front of them. I stared at an upturned chair instead.

  Kull took my hand in his and held it firmly. “May I have your permission to leave, Father?” he asked.

  King Herrick inhaled a deep breath. Unlike Kull, he still stood with fisted hands. Rage burned in his eyes as he focused on us. King Herrick was shorter than Kull, with a round belly and reddened cheeks hidden partially by his faded blond beard. He wore the typical Wult fashion, a mixture of leather and animal hide. He also wore a thick belt that supported a sword and scabbard. With the look I saw in his eyes, I was surprised he hadn’t pulled it free.

  “Fine,” his father said, “you may leave. But she stays here.”

  He pointed at me.

  Kull’s grip tightened. “No.”

  “No?” The king raised an eyebrow. “Shall you defy me once again? I would hate for the girl to become involved. You know that our kingdom’s laws don’t protect outsiders. In fact, it is in my authority to deal with outsiders however I please.”

  Kull worked his jaw back and forth. “Very well,” he finally answered. “But if you harm her…”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” A forced smile crossed his face. “As long as she takes heed of our customs and obeys our laws. Let me speak with her. You know it is for the best.”

  Kull stood without speaking. The crackling fire was the only sound that broke up the silence. Finally, he seemed to make his decision. “I will wait in the other room,” Kull said. “Harm her, Father, and you will regret it.” He turned, his booted footsteps making the floorboards creak as he exited.

  Heidel gave her father a curt nod and followed her brother, then closed the doors with a click.

  King Herrick focused on the fireplace. “I appreciate your willingness to speak with me,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, although I was fairly certain that I had not, in fact, agreed.

  “Well,” he said and turned away from the fireplace, “let’s get this over with, shall we?” He picked up two chairs, placed them upright, and motioned for me to have a seat. I unshouldered my pack and sat across from the king. I had an idea what this conversation would be about, and I dreaded it.

  “I’ll have you know,” he started, “that I don’t blame you at all.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Blame me?”

  “My son will make a good king someday. I have always been honored to call him my son. Yet his impulsiveness is his downfall. We all have frailties, of course, but he refuses to see his. I have tried to guide him and teach him, but I have failed to provide him the insight he needs to see his own flaws.

  “I am confident that one day he will grasp the importance of his position. He is young yet, and, the gods willing, I still have a few years left.”

  “If you don’t mind,” I asked, “what did you wish to speak with me about?”

  “Yes, I prattle at times, don’t I? The war with the elves has ceased for the moment. With the loss of magic, they can’t fight, and I would not wish to slaughter a helpless race. The elves travel here now to join us on our quest, though they are useless in a fight without magic. I don’t see what they wish to accomplish.

  “It was never my intention to go to war with the elves,” he continued, “but Kull forced my hand by choosing you over the elven princess. Our alliance with the elves would have ended much bloodshed. Contrary to what most believe, I do not delight in unnecessary killing. But Kull destroyed all chance of an alliance. Why the elven princess did not retaliate against my son is a mystery to me.”

  Kull had told me once that he’d learned something about the princess—something he’d been able to use to his advantage to get out of their engagement—though he’d never told me what he’d learned.

  “The elven princess travels here now, along with the head magistrate, I believe.”

  “My father is coming?” Wonderful. I couldn’t wait.

  “Yes. The elves are concerned about the magic, understandably so. I’m sure the elven king himself would have traveled here if his health had permitted.”

  “I understand. But what does this have to do with me?”

  “It has everything to do with you. My son has shown interest in you, but his responsibilities are to his country first. It’s a shame that it must be this way, but the truth of the matter is, he is a political asset. When he marries, it must be to bring security and prosperity to his country. This is the way it has been for generations. We have all sacrificed our personal feelings in order to better our homeland, myself included.

  “When I was a little younger than Kull—which seems like a lifetime ago now—I fancied a woman—well, a girl, really—from my home village. The Northlands were a treacherous place at times, but Æsa was never bothered by it. She was tougher than the lot of us. Slaughtered a jagamoor once. But when my father arranged my marriage with Halla, I left my home immediately and did not look back. This is the way our culture operates.

  “Kull has already failed his people once by not accepting the elven princess. When the time comes again, I will expect him to not make the same mistake twice.”

  “Your concern is noted,” I answered, “although I’m sure you misunderstand my relationship with your son. He has never expressed any interest in marriage. I am merely a passing infatuation.” I prayed I wasn’t. I begged and pleaded with the Almighty above that I wasn’t an infatuation.

  The king shook his head. “Then you do not know my son. And you do not understand our customs. Marriage is considered sacred, sanctioned by the gods, a union that cannot be broken. Intimacy is more than a physical act to satisfy one’s needs. It is an act of creation, a fabric that binds life and death together. Kull knows our ways. He knows our traditions. Soon, he will realize his true purpose in life, and I am afraid you cannot be a part of it.”

  My heart gave a painful thump. I’d had an idea this was coming, but it still hurt to hear. “I see,” I answered quietly.

  “Do you?”

  I looked him in the eyes. Unlike Kull, his countenance exuded a sense of cold calculation. I wondered if that’s what Kull wou
ld look like someday. Cold, devoid of cheer, more concerned for his country than for the wellbeing of his own kin. But was I really so low in status to him? Surely he could be reasoned with.

  “I understand,” I said, “that you see me as someone inconsequential, although I am the daughter of the head magistrate and the sky king’s ward.”

  He set his jaw. “And the child of an Earthlander. Don’t you realize that I know of your ancestry?”

  “That’s the reason?” I asked. “Because I’m the child of an Earthlander?”

  “No,” he answered, “it is not the only reason. I know of the oath you swore to my son. I was there when you made it. He agreed to accompany you to the goblin lands at great peril to his own life in exchange for an Earth talisman, yet you broke your oath. I realize you do not understand our ways. My son may be blinded to your blunder, but a broken oath is something I cannot forgive. I am sorry, but even if you are merely—as you say—a passing infatuation, that changes nothing. Kull’s responsibilities are to his duties, and he does not need you as a distraction. You cannot be with my son. My word is final.”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. First, Kull was engaged to the elven princess, and now his father had forbidden us from being together. The situation was almost laughable. I would have laughed, too, had I not been on the verge of tears.

  Instead, I swallowed back my pain and squared my shoulders. “And what if I refuse to part with him?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed. “Our laws are quite clear on this matter. If Kull chooses you over his homeland, then he will no longer be the heir to my throne. Kull will be exiled. He will no longer be welcomed at Danegeld, and he will never be allowed to see his family again.”

  I stared, shocked. Perhaps Kull wouldn’t mind losing his seat on the throne, but he would never in a million years be capable of parting with his family. With the threat of never seeing his family again hanging over his head, I would never ask Kull to choose me.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I wandered into a wooded area behind the inn, my hands fisted, my breathing uneven. Somehow, I had to come to terms with King Herrick’s wishes. Somehow, I had to let Kull go.