Fairytales Slashed: Volume 8

by Samantha M. Derr

  Elfreda gestured to one and it came to her hand. "For you," she said, handing it over. It floated just above Ida's hand, as ethereal as a soap bubble. "It will obey simple commands—light lamp, lamp off, come, stay. Now you come along to bed before you fall asleep at the table!"

  Ida was swept along deeper into the house to a simple undecorated room with a sturdy bed bigger than the one Ida was used to sharing with little Linza, and a heavy chest and wardrobe.

  "The wardrobe can give you any clothes you desire, the chest any furnishings," Elfreda told her. "If there is anything else you want, you need only ask. Now rest, kind Ida. There will be work in the morning."

  Ida's eyelids drooped, as though Elfreda's magic was commanding her just as easily as it did everything else in her lands. She barely had the energy to kick off her shoes before she was sinking down into the soft bed. Elfreda tucked the warm blankets around her and snuffed out the lamp before she left.

  Ida had the brief uncomfortable thought that she hadn't remembered to ask to be released and sent back home again, but comforted herself that she could do so in the morning. She closed her eyes, and sleep claimed her.

  *~*~*

  Dawn broke quietly, pink rippling through deep water, but no birdsong. Ida was woken by the light, and the bright flashes of it reflecting off schools of little silver fish swimming outside her big window. There was no mistaking where she was, or writing off her experiences from the day before as a dream, not even in the first confusing, half-awake moments.

  Ida sighed and got out of bed. The room was chilly, but not terribly so. Her dress was badly wrinkled for having been slept in. Ida tried to smooth it out with her hands, before remembering Elfreda saying that the wardrobe could supply her with clothes.

  If she was going to be here, whether she really wanted to or not, Ida might as well take advantage of what was available to her. She gave up on trying to unwrinkle her dress and threw the wardrobe open.

  Ida gasped, taken aback by the sight that met her eyes. Long gowns of cloth of gold and mist-light silk dyed in royal purples and blues, dresses in shades ranging from the richest reds to the brightest whites and all the shades of pink between, and all of them looked to be Ida's size or near to it. This was a collection fit for a princess, or a queen. Ida had never seen their equal, and admired them for just a moment before she laughed and closed the wardrobe again.

  Imagine her trying to wear a dress like that. She'd be tripping over her skirts all day, and much good fine silk would do her if she trod it into the mud and tore it. Dresses like that were for high-born ladies, not those who worked with their hands. So there wasn't actually anything for Ida to change into.

  Unless...

  Ida faced the wardrobe and tapped it with her finger to be sure it was paying attention. "No silly gowns. Give me something sensible to work in, please," she requested. She gave it a moment, in case it took a little while for it to reorganize itself, and opened the door.

  Now it was filled with sturdy linen and wool clothes, familiar browns and grays and yellows, and Ida smiled as she set to sorting through them for something suitable. There were dresses, skirts, and blouses, even a few pairs of breeches that looked like they'd fit. Ida skipped past those quickly with her face flaming. Not that there would be anyone to see her wear breeches and gossip, if she did. Ida settled for a skirt and a blouse with some pretty embroidery around the neck, tucked Linza's spindle into her pocket as a reminder, and went to find Elfreda.

  All in all, it hadn't taken very long. The rippled sky was still pink, though fading to brighter oranges and the day.

  Elfreda was in the kitchen when Ida arrived, finishing up her breakfast. She was back to being gray and knobbled, but her hair was still smooth from Ida's brushing, and braided back from the temples. Ida's own hair was still untended; she had no comb and hadn't thought to try and get one from the chest in her room. She must look terribly slovenly beside Elfreda in her long, black gown, but Elfreda smiled at her.

  "There you are," she said, voice harsh and grating. "I have to run. The barley field needs harvesting. The scythe is just outside the door. Can you do that, and milk the goat this afternoon?"

  "I know how, but..." Ida's hand clenched on Linza's spindle in her pocket, but Elfreda had already set aside her bowl.

  "Thank you," she said, putting her heavy moss cloak over her shoulders. "Remember, nothing in my lands will harm you, and all you desire is yours." Elfreda stepped out the door of the cottage, took a step away, and was as tall as a tree. After another, she was as far and large as a mountain, and by the third step she was gone in the horizon like the front of an oncoming storm. Ida was left gaping after her.

  Ida hadn't had the chance to even try to beg her way home. She huffed out a frustrated sigh and turned back to the breakfast table. There was porridge, still hot, along with apricot jam and cream to stir into it. Ida served herself a big bowl. It was delicious, but Ida could not help wondering what her family was eating this morning. If they were eating at all and not too sick with mourning, thinking her drowned.

  The food would have tasted far better shared with them.

  Ida washed her bowl and spoon and the porridge pot when she was done eating. If she could not go home, she might as well do the work she was asked to. What was left of the loaf of bread from the night before was still on the table, and she made herself a simple lunch of bread and cheese tied up in a napkin and a jug of water.

  The bone from the roast the night before was on a plate in the pantry to stay cool, waiting to be made into soup. If Ida were at home, she would put it on the back of the stove to cook before she went out—and Elfreda had told her to treat this as her home. Ida hesitated, unsure, before she made her decision. It wasn't hard to find a big pot to put the bone in, or a hammer to crack it with to let the marrow out. It went into the pot along with plenty of water and some beans.

  That would make a good bean soup for dinner, and Ida only hoped it did not ruin any of Elfreda's plans.

  The last thing Ida did before heading out was go back to her room for a kerchief. Reaping and gathering barley into sheaves was hot, heavy work, especially alone. It would only be worse with her hair in her face.

  "I need to brush my hair and tie it back with a kerchief," Ida informed the chest at the foot of her bed, hoping it would give her something suitable, and opened it. Immediately, a simple vanity and a stool popped out of it and settled against the wall. Ida thought she could be forgiven for jumping back with a yelp.

  Once she'd gotten her racing heart under control, Ida inspected what she'd been given. There was a simple hairbrush and a wooden comb, sitting neatly beside a pitcher of water and a basin with a washcloth, so she could wash her face, too, if she liked. There was a selection of kerchiefs and hair ribbons in the drawer when Ida opened it.

  It didn't take Ida long to put her hair back in a snug bun and tie a kerchief over it, and then there was nothing left to do but go harvest the barley as she'd been asked. The scythe was outside the cottage door where Elfreda had said it would be, and River Wolf the pike was napping in a patch of sunlight. Ida settled the scythe over her shoulder, and looked up and down the path. She had no idea which direction the barley field was in.

  "River Wolf, do you know which field E—" Ida's voice broke off with a cough, her tongue twisting around itself rather than speaking Elfreda's name. She really did have a geis on her, to prevent her from speaking Elfreda's name, and Ida felt a cold shiver travel down her spine. She continued carefully, with River Wolf watching her curiously out of one eye. "Do you know where the barley field your mistress the Nixie wanted me to harvest is?"

  "The scythe was to the left of the door, so down the left path," River Wolf answered, yawning and wagging his tail a bit at her. "You'll know it because it's gold and rustling. I could show you to it?"

  "If that won't get you in trouble, thanks," Ida accepted, and River Wolf eagerly darted out the gate to show her the way. He swam circles around Ida as she walked, occ
asionally darting out to chase schools of bright fish but always coming back to her grinning, as eager as a dog chasing hares and just as unsuccessful.

  It didn't take long to reach the barley field, and just as River Wolf had told her, it was gleaming bright gold in the morning sunlight and rustling as it swayed back and forth though there was no breeze. It was not a large field, but still a lot for one person to harvest all on their own. Ida set her lunch in the shade of the little rock wall that surrounded the field.

  "Thank you for your help, River Wolf," Ida said, testing the edge of the scythe. It was more than sharp enough, though she'd likely want to sharpen it again before she was done with the field. She wasn't sure where Elfreda kept her sharpening stone though. "You'd better get back to guarding the cottage."

  "Yes, miss," River Wolf agreed, and darted away down the path. Ida was a little sorry to watch him go, but he had work to do, and so did she. Ida expected a long, hard day's work, but at the first swing of the scythe it leapt out of her hands and began reaping all on its own. Ida watched after it slack-jawed for a moment before she collected herself enough to begin gathering the barley stalks into sheaves in its wake. The sheaves arranged themselves into neatly piled stacks as soon as she'd gathered them. It was very strange to watch the scythe working on its own, and the sheaves dancing themselves into place, but no stranger than anything else Ida had seen in the Nixie's lands, and it did make the work easier.

  Ida got into the rhythm of the work quickly. At home, she wouldn't have been harvesting alone. She would have been surrounded by family and neighbors, all pitching in to get each other's fields harvested when the weather was right for it. There would have been laughter and singing. Ida did sing some as she worked, but it was lonely without Linza's little piping voice beside her.

  The field was not large, and even pacing herself and taking a good, long, lunch break, Ida had it all harvested before the heat of midafternoon set in. The scythe propped itself up against the rock wall when it was done harvesting. The jug of water she'd brought with her never emptied, no matter how much she drank, which Ida was glad of. She had one last drink before she slung the scythe over her shoulder and walked back to Elfreda's cottage.

  River Wolf was sunning on the roof, but swam down to see her.

  "Where does the scythe belong?" Ida asked him, and he immediately led her around the back of the cottage to the toolshed.

  "Sharpening stone..." Ida mused aloud, looking around the neatly-organized space for one. The scythe leapt out of her hands and hung itself on the wall while a sharpening stone jumped up to begin sharpening it. Ida backed out of the toolshed carefully.

  There was a kitchen garden between the toolshed and the cottage. It was all overgrown with weeds, but it was unmistakably a garden.

  "Is there any reason why I shouldn't harvest from this garden, or do a bit of weeding?" Ida asked River Wolf. She could see peas and garlic scapes that would both be good in the bean soup that was simmering on the stove, along with some turnips and carrots from the root cellar.

  "No," River Wolf answered, "Not that I know. My mistress has been sad that she is too busy to tend it better."

  Ida didn't push herself. The afternoon was warm, and she was already tired from harvesting the barley. She weeded just a few patches of the garden, and harvested a handful of garlic scapes and a big pile of peas. Shelling peas was easy work, and Ida settled in the shade on the front stoop to do it.

  River Wolf sat beside her, or swam around the cottage or up to the roof on patrol, and the afternoon passed quickly. The goat happily accepted the pea shells as her treat when it was time for milking.

  The bean soup was fragrant on the back of the stove, rich with marrow and full of vegetables and ready to be eaten, as the sun set in rippling reds and golds and night set in. Ida asked the bubble lamps to light themselves so she was not in darkness, and they did.

  "The Mistress should have been back," River Wolf muttered to himself. He circled up as high as the trees, on watch. "She always comes back."

  He was nervous enough himself, so Ida tried to keep her own nervousness in check. She kept her hands busy, neatening up the cottage, and waited. She was yawning despite herself when there was a crackling like thunder on the horizon and Elfreda appeared on the path outside the cottage. She slumped beneath her heavy moss cloak, her footsteps halting.

  River Wolf dove down from his watch on the roof with a wordless cry, wrapping around her and settling beneath her arm to steady her.

  "Ah, my trusty River Wolf," Elfreda said, as though the words were exhausting to say. "Has... has anyone passed my door?"

  "Only the maiden, hard at work," River Wolf answered.

  "Good," Elfreda answered. Her knobbly gray skin was even more ashen than usual when she stepped through the door into the light, her boggling eyes sunken in deep shadows and her hair a tangled mess. She breathed deep and her eyes crinkled in a smile, though, when she caught scent of the soup.

  "You cooked," Elfreda said, her voice like rusty nails being pried out of wood but its tone somehow warm.

  "Yes, bean soup, Mistress Nixie." Ida dropped a quick curtsy and ladled up a big bowl to serve her when she sat heavily at the table. River Wolf bit Elfreda's moss cloak and lifted it off her to hang on the peg on the wall. It was tattered, as though it had been torn, but the moss began to grow and knit back together as Ida watched. Elfreda looked shrunken without it. River Wolf returned to coiled himself around Elfreda's body like a snake. He was growling... or maybe it was purring.

  Elfreda shoveled down the first bowl of soup like she was starving, and Ida served her a second bowl with a wedge of hard cheese to the side when she sat down to eat her own.

  "You are drained, my Mistress," River Wolf said. "How did this happen? Who must I fight?"

  "Those damned kelpies thought they could infringe on my western borders again," Elfreda answered, giving his head an affectionate scratch. "I reminded them why that's a bad idea. It's nothing to be concerned of. My base here is stronger than ever." She smiled over at Ida with needle-sharp teeth. Ida was lucky she'd always had a hearty appetite or the sight might have put her off her dinner. It was a close thing, still.

  "You are an excellent cook," Elfreda said, after she'd finished her third bowl. She was sitting up stronger now, and gave River Wolf an affectionate pat to send him back outside.

  "I am passable. Thank you, Mistress Nixie." Her hand crept into her pocket, touching Linza's spindle to remind herself what she had to return to—no matter how terrifying Elfreda looked right now.

  "None of that formality," Elfreda said, serving herself another bowl. "You are not a servant in my home. You have been given permission to call me Elfreda."

  "Elfreda," Ida corrected herself. "I thank you for your hospitality, but my family will—"

  "Do not speak to me of them," Elfreda hissed, like venom through her sharp teeth. "They do not deserve you."

  Ida snapped her mouth shut, so hard she very nearly bit her lips to bleeding. Her hand clenched on the spindle in her pocket.

  "Then I will bid you good night," Ida said, when she could trust her voice to be even. The things that happened to people who angered powerful magical creatures in fairy stories didn't bear thinking of. Best she kept her hurt and her anger to herself.

  She did not look at Elfreda again as she washed her bowl and saw herself to her room. The wardrobe had a selection of soft flannel nightgowns when Ida went looking for sleep clothes. The one she chose was warm and cozy, but that luxury wasn't nearly enough to distract her from the fact that she was trapped far from her family. She curled up in the blankets, cradling Linza's spindle to her heart.

  It took all Ida's willpower not to cry herself to sleep.

  *~*~*

  Ida wanted to be angry at Elfreda. She wanted to be cold and distant and hate the person who was keeping her prisoner.

  That was harder than it should have been. Ida had never been good at holding a grudge.

  Elfreda was b
eautiful the next morning when Ida got up. The kitchen was full of the scent of griddle cakes, and Elfreda was combing her hair out, the silver-threaded lengths of it falling around her body and the green dress she was wearing. A smile broke across her face when she caught sight of Ida, and she laughed like a girl as she tossed her hair back.

  "You harvested the barley perfectly, and you started on weeding the garden, too! Thank you so much," Elfreda praised as she served Ida up a stack of griddle cakes with honey and cream. "You are so wonderful, Nan the goat and River Wolf adore you already. Will you help me tend to the rest of the garden today?"

  Ida nodded mutely, accepting her breakfast. It should have been anger that stilled her tongue, but Elfreda did seem to be truly grateful for what Ida had done. Elfreda smiled, almost shy as she sat across the table from her to eat her own breakfast. As though she'd entirely forgotten her anger of the night before.

  The weather was perfect out in the garden, when Ida followed Elfreda out to work. The sun was warm, but there was a cooling breeze that had already dried any dew from the leaves. The weeds were easy to pull, and Elfreda's company was easy too. She seemed to love her garden and spoke fondly of the plants in each section as they worked. She asked Ida's opinion on the care of various plants, and listened when Ida answered.

  The eggplants had grown thin and weak from the strangling of the weeds, and Ida helped stake them, so they would not fall over once the weeds were gone. Little fish darted here and there through the garden, nosing through the roots of the weeds they had pulled like curious sparrows searching for grubs.

  Elfreda offered Ida half of anything she harvested as she worked—sweet berries and tender greens to sample. Ida looked up from clearing the weeds out of a patch of marrows to see that Elfreda was wearing twisty garlic scapes like bangles on her wrists. Ida laughed to see it. She'd done the same as a child, and taught it to Linza. Elfreda laughed herself, and slipped one onto Ida's wrist, so they matched.