by Amy Bearce
Her work cabin, just inside the woods at the edge of their yard, held all the supplies given to her by Corbin’s mother, a healer. Nell didn’t plan on only being a conduit for a prophetic voice all her life. Healing was at least a steady and sure profession that offered a balance to the pain and hurt she’d caused in her previous profession as an enforcer. The work didn’t hold the same sizzle and spark as a sword duel, but honestly, what did?
Nell had already moved herself and her family from Tuathail to Covenstead to live among Corbin’s family and the other healers. They were some of the few people the alchemist crews didn’t like to antagonize, so she felt safe leaving her family behind while she traveled.
Tonight, bright moonlight guided her to the door. Inside, a simple wooden table with two stools filled the center of the little room. Jars of dark liquids, glistening powders, and fragrant spices filled a tall shelf along the back wall, with empty bowls and vials along the bottom.
She took a deep breath of the potent scent of herbs hanging from the ceiling―rosemary, basil, thyme, even stinging nettle. Every herb had a purpose, as long as one had the knowledge to use it properly. No sense trying to heal a cut by slathering stinging nettle in it, but when mixed into a good broth, stinging nettle could cure a stomachache in a hurry. Just as she wouldn’t use her longsword to pick a lock, she wouldn’t use just any herb for a potion. In all situations, effectiveness was a matter of using the right tool for the right job.
She often felt like the magic of Aluvia had picked the wrong tool when it had chosen her to speak with the voice of prophecy.
What did she know of magic? Or healing?
She was the girl who mastered edged weapons faster than anyone their village had ever seen. So fast, in fact, she was chosen to study with a renowned sword master in Port Iona when she was just fourteen. Shane McConnel had been one of the few men in her life who seemed to believe she could do anything she put her mind to.
Admittedly, it had stung at first that her new trainer turned out to be a mere ten years older than she was, but Nell worked hard. By the time she’d left Port Iona, Shane had been the only one there to avoid defeat at her hands, with his own signature move she could never deflect or duplicate. She’d returned to Jack with her already impressive skills sharpened to a fine point. Now those skills had been left to rust like a dagger left in the rain.
Frustration begged to be let out. She grabbed a batch of rosemary. The pestle and mortar would get a good work out.
Braiding her hair out of the way, she stood at the sturdy table, too restless to sit. She slammed the stone pestle against the plant, and its piney scent blossomed from the mortar. She pounded and rubbed and scraped the rosemary’s firm needles and woodsy stalks until nothing remained but a green paste in the bowl. Her muscles burned pleasantly, but she had more frustration to spare.
Jasper. That troll of a man. Coming into her home, sneaking around the healing homestead. And this ridiculous Dragon person. What kind of a name was that, anyway?
As she stewed, she grabbed a palmful of wild dandelions and pulled out her boline knife and a cutting board. Whack, whack, whack, she chopped off the heads of the dandelions with gruesome gusto and sliced the stalks as finely as the hairs of a unicorn’s mane.
In theory, Nell could sell this burn salve for a decent amount in the ports. The reality was people would swarm her as usual―not for her poultices, but for a message from the mysterious voice that used her as a prophetess. She preached messages of equality with magical creatures and proper stewardship of their world. No one saw her as a healer. They didn’t even see her as a fighter anymore. She was more like… entertainment.
She gritted her teeth and sliced harder, leaving rows cut into the wood board. She hissed. Now she’d have to sand down the whole board. She lightened her pressure but kept cutting.
By the time she finished, pale morning light streamed through the window. She gently placed the jar on the shelf. Her gaze traced the large collection of empty containers waiting for her, and guilt prickled.
She was simply on the road too often to focus on healing skills. Everyone looked to her to provide answers on thorny questions about the ethics of magic because the voice lived within her. No wonder she’d put off returning to the ports, even while knowing she should be out among the people with messages for them. Sensing the troubles of Aluvia could send Nell into a trance faster than a dagger could drop a thief. She didn’t want to lead a magical revolution. She didn’t want to hold this voice anymore. She’d done enough, given up enough.
When would her future begin? She scowled.
It already has…
The words were so soft, almost like she’d heard them only in her mind.
Sweat sprung on her brow, and Nell turned to face the empty room. The whisper sounded familiar, but the prophetic voice always took her over to speak to a specific audience. Always. Yet she knew nothing had come from her lips.
She was alone in the cabin. Wasn’t she? She took a steadying breath, looking for anywhere someone could hide. She yanked her dagger from its sheath. It didn’t feel like enough. Her boline knife lay out of reach on the other side of the table, but she snatched up the heavy pestle with her free hand. She’d protected herself with less in times past.
A knock at the door made her jump, and she gave a disgusted snort at her unease. Enemies didn’t knock. Get a hold of yourself, Nell. Exhaustion had played a trick on her.
“Nell, are you in there?”
There was no mistaking that voice, at least.
“Corbin!” She set down the pestle, feeling foolish for her fear. Returning her dagger to its sheath, she swung open the door and smiled with relief. “Good morning!”
His dark eyes twinkled with cheer even in the low morning light as he held out her favorite treat.
She laughed. “Chocolate truffles for breakfast?”
“You work plenty hard to enjoy a treat now and then.”
“Thank you.” She gently laid one hand along the warm brown skin of his cheek. She’d never get over how thoughtful he was.
Corbin leaned against the doorframe and said, “I saw your guest. He’s going to wake your family if you don’t make him hush soon. Why don’t you let us help you when they do this? Or tell the elders?”
Good thing he’d brought her chocolate. It would keep her mood sweeter. She turned to give her work table a quick wipe down. “I can handle the crew by myself just fine, Corbin.”
“Of course you can, but that doesn’t mean you should have to. These days, you’re living a life of peace. Why are you still so hard on yourself?”
“I’m not.” She rolled her eyes.
“Then why do you look so tired? Couldn’t sleep?” He stepped close and ran his hand down her braid.
She gave a noncommittal shrug, carefully storing each tool where it belonged.
“Maybe give yourself a break, and skip a day of sword practice or two while you’re at it. I know you enjoy it, but you have little enough time to study healing as it is. You need to rest more.”
She frowned. “I’ve got to be able to defend myself, and besides, yes, I do enjoy it.”
She’d said so a hundred times before. He was proud of her for her skill and strength, but as time had passed, his desire for her to stop working with the sword had grown―in the name of peace and her own safety. His increasing concern made Nell secretly glad they had agreed to delay hand-fasting until life was more settled. What if he got worse in his judgment over the years?
His jaw set in a way that screamed stubbornness. “There’s got to be a better way to protect yourself. Maybe the port elders would intervene if you told them. The sword brings division and danger. You’re a healer now.”
She huffed through her nose like a bull.
A sword can be a bearer of peace… came that voice again, floating through her mind like a cloud on a breeze.
She startled, and a shiver ran down her back. “Did you hear anything?”
“On
ly Jasper moaning over there like he’s been bit by a naga. The big baby.”
She must just be imagining things from lack of sleep. Corbin’s disdain made her smile. It was strangely cute when the kindest boy on Aluvia was irritated.
“Well, I did give him a hard knock on the head. Or two. I’m surprised he’s already waking up. Just goes to show his head must be made of wood.”
He laughed. Good. She didn’t want to fight. Not with Corbin anyway. Satisfied with the cabin’s condition, she closed the door behind them.
“Have a truffle,” she said, closing the conversation just as firmly.
He rolled his eyes at her before gulping the chocolate in a single bite. That boy was a walking stomach.
They set off in companionable silence to the house, though Nell was still thinking through their conversation. At least Sierra understood the situation. She was a powerful fairy keeper, but a realist, the one who’d led the quest that brought Corbin and Nell together.
Nell had thought after four years, she and Corbin would understand each other seamlessly. Instead, as time passed and the sense of crisis lessened, their differences loomed larger. They still shared the same love of music and stories. He’d taught her to dance; she’d taught him to cook, a sorely needed skill on his part. They laughed together and cared deeply for each other. But he was so happy she was training as a healer that he seemed to forget she was many other things, too. Or could be, if the voice inside her would let her go.
“We should go check on Jasper, don’t you think?” Corbin angled his face to the sun. “Ought to be breakfast time soon. Truffles will only carry me so far.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “His face may put off your appetite.”
“Nothing puts off this appetite.” He patted his flat stomach.
She laughed. On impulse, she added, “Please, don’t worry. I have to show the crew I haven’t lost my edge. A message from the elders’ clerks won’t get through to them. But their leader humiliated? They’ll remember that.”
They crossed the small yard, keeping a close eye on the slowly waking crew leader. A redbird called from a tree nearby, its cheerful whistle at odds with talk of threats and danger.
“Exactly. Don’t you see? It’s like baiting a dragon.”
Nell shook her head. “I can handle it. But Jasper did say something strange, about dragons, actually. He said there’s a new man leading the crews, called the Dragon, out in the Ice-Locked Lands. He supposedly wants to tame the dragons and use them to take over the ports somehow.”
Corbin snorted. “Good luck with that. Not even fauns can control adult dragons anymore.”
“Jasper seems to believe it’s true. He said this Dragon sent him to recruit or kill me.”
“Jasper tried to kill you?” Corbin’s voice rose.
Nell clenched her hands. She hadn’t meant to let that news out. “And failed.”
Corbin visibly swallowed down more objections. “I understand self-defense is important for you. But why invite more violence in your life than you have to? I worry for you.”
“And I am thankful for that. I am. But I chose the crew and got myself into their mess, and now I’ll have to get myself out of it.”
“You’re not alone anymore, Nell. Don’t forget that, okay?”
Corbin entwined their fingers, and a bloom of pleasure rushed through her. It still seemed like a dream that they could be a couple. But here he was, handsome fairy keeper Corbin, holding her hand and not one of the ribbon-bedecked girls who used to follow him everywhere.
Jasper’s moans shifted to curses. He was definitely awake.
“His men will be around soon to pay his ransom, I think,” Corbin said, eyeing Jasper. “Maybe we can get more information about this Dragon person.”
“He’s probably lying, just trying to scare me into working for him again. As if I’d ever.”
“He doesn’t know you at all if he thought he’d catch you napping.” Corbin winked at her.
She smiled back, but then frowned as Jasper’s curses became more creative, practically coloring the sky purple. Nell pursed her lips, considering her choices.
“You want the girls to hear that kind of talk?” Corbin asked.
Her mother’s singing lilted from the open kitchen window. The girls would be up soon.
Nell said, “Let me grab my bow. Then we’ll deal with him.”
Inside, the scent of oats and cinnamon filled the air. Nell’s mother had already set the table for breakfast.
“Morning, Ms. Brennan.”
Her mother smiled back. “Staying for breakfast, I hope, Corbin? Fairy keepers need their strength, don’t they now?”
“Thank you, ma’am. No one makes breakfast like you.”
The clatter of the dishes barely covered the threats issuing from Jasper’s mouth.
Nell hoped Jasper’s men would come soon. It wasn’t the first time she’d left someone trussed up. They no doubt knew what his errand was last night, and when he didn’t return with morning’s light, they would draw the correct conclusion.
From the corner of the living room, she grabbed her bow and tossed her quiver across her back. She added her sword to her belt, though an attack in broad daylight was unlikely. As Jasper had grumpily pointed out, Nell was still seen as a savior by most people in the region―she, Sierra, and Corbin were heroes who had started the process of healing the weary land. Even their friends Micah, Phoebe, and Tristan were well-known and respected.
Other fairy keepers had taken up the message throughout the ports, and the last earthquake had been over two years ago. Dragons and firebirds were awake again after their long hibernation, and though the dragons were admittedly creating some chaos, it was contained mostly to the mountains. The merfolk were finally healed, too, and they were trading once more with humans on a small scale, which helped both groups. Only the dark alchemists loudly protested the restrictions on magical supplies, but they’d been furious since the voice made its first appearance through Nell anyway.
She needed to hurry and get rid of Jasper before her mother noticed―
“Is that what I think it is, out there tied to a post? I thought we were past all that non-sense.” Nell’s mother stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, worry creasing her brow.
Too late.
“Nothing for you to fret over.” Nell kissed her mother on the cheek, wishing she could remove the worry lines from her face. The older woman’s hands were reddened and calloused from the lye used in her laundry business. She’d endured a hard life.
Nell squared her shoulders. “I can deal with it. Don’t worry.”
She and Corbin sauntered across the front lawn to Jasper, who continued to name-call and issue vile threats.
“Shut up, you,” Corbin said, pointing his finger at Jasper.
Nell barely suppressed a grin. Corbin didn’t do threatening very well, but that was part of his charm.
She waited until Jasper paused for breath. “If you wake my sisters, your price goes up to fifty. And I might not unlock you until evening. You really want people to see you like this?”
“You’ll regret this, girly. You should have changed your mind while you could. Traitors don’t last, not even ones with special ‘voices.’ You won’t stand against the Dragon.”
Something stirred within her. No. Not now. Not in front of him.
ell tried to walk away, but she was rooted to the ground as if she’d turned into a statue. She had just a moment to hope Jasper’s men didn’t arrive in time to see her like this. Then the voice took over.
The arrival of the prophetic voice was like being shoved underwater. The world grew softened and muted, like through a watery veil. The feeling was familiar, one she used to even enjoy but now sometimes hated. The low, resonate woman’s voice filled her mind just before the words slipped from her lips.
“Aluvia’s healing nears completion but could be thwarted still. The land has spoken. The sea has risen. But a new threat comes to destroy. This e
nemy has a heart encased in ice and plans to spread his frozen wasteland across all the world. Go to the Ice-Locked Lands, where the fiery sword of Aluvia can be awakened to bring full healing to all. Balance must be restored before his strength reaches the sky.”
“Where in the Ice-Locked Lands?” Corbin asked, his words rushed.
Sometimes the voice would respond, sometimes it wouldn’t. Nell didn’t have the presence of mind to wonder which it would be.
“The fiery sword waits at the tallest mountain peak for the hand that can claim it. It’s held by the Tree of Life. You know the stories, fairy keeper. Listen to them.” Nell’s throat relaxed, and she gasped.
Jasper was as white as bleached bones beneath his swarthy complexion. “What on Aluvia did that mean?”
“It means we’re in trouble,” Corbin muttered, steadying Nell with a firm grasp under her elbows.
“H-h-her eyes…” Jasper’s own eyes bugged out of his head.
Corbin had a rather smug smile on his face. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Nell’s eyes went black as night when she prophesied, or so she’d been told. People also said she all but glowed when the magic overtook her, thanks to the many fairy queen stings she received four years ago. Given reactions like Jasper’s, she was glad she couldn’t see the changes.
With another deep breath, Nell came fully back to herself. She felt alone in her mind again―but the voice could arrive to steal her body and drop life-changing messages on them at any moment. She never forgot.
“That’s one big reason why you don’t want me back, even if I wanted to come. Which I don’t. So leave me alone.” She backed away from Jasper. The voice left her weakened, empty like a washed out shell on the beach. Vulnerable. But it felt good, too, like stretching after being cramped in a too-small space.
The voice had been quiet for a few months now, thanks to Nell’s careful avoidance of crowds. And now the threat of this Dragon made it awaken? The thought made her testy.