A Witch's Destiny

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  They heard the displeased grunt that came from behind the tree at Conner’s insulting description, but Conner went on speaking undeterred by the strange noises the trow made.

  “Legend and folklore has it claimed they are entirely incapable of reproducing for the males apparently lose their whallupers by night.”

  All three men wore similar expressions of certain disbelief, yet displeasure at the absurd, yet unimaginably disturbing possibility.

  “They lose them by night? So they simply grow another each day?” Killian attempted to understand the peculiar tale.

  He glanced at Danhoul, clearly thinking because he had some knowledge of magical creatures he might be able to enlighten them to how this unusual happening took place.

  “I’ve never had any dealings with trows and thought maybe their existence was entirely embellished folklore.”

  Everyone turned their eyes to Conner again for apparently he knew the most regarding these odd little creatures.

  “Aye, well, I canna say for sure how it happens, but that must be the way of it. Apparently the trows, male and female alike, are in a state of complete immobility during the day, frozen just as surely as when you still time, Lady Alainn. They also must hide beneath the ground to escape the sunlight for apparently the sunlight on their skin can kill them. So with being entirely incapable of movement during the day and losing their whallupers each night, they can no longer reproduce and surely one day the world will be rid of the wee buggers.”

  “By God’s bones, can you imagine the absurdity of it, havin’ it fall off every night, and then to produce another each day only to lose it every night?” Killian shuddered and Alainn observed that each of the men involuntarily placed their hands to the front of their trews as if needing to assure themselves they hadn’t fallen prey to this disastrous happening.

  “That would most definitely explain it,” Alainn said more to herself than the others.

  Soon another unpleasant sound came from behind the tree.

  “I must now go to the trow for he claims to have information on how we might locate Bulwark.”

  “Well, you’ll not go alone.” Killian stepped closer to her.

  “He’s a wee creature, Killian, and though somewhat disgruntled and unpleasant, I don’t sense he will harm me. He’s ever so tiny.”

  “Tell that to my mother’s cousin for her husband apparently dropped dead having suffered the sting of a bee!” Killian declared. “You cannot underestimate the creature simply because it may be small.”

  Alainn was certain she wouldn’t dissuade her husband when he had his mind set. “I am coming to speak with you, Trow, and I bring my husband, but I assure you he will cause you no harm and he is entirely covered by his garments.”

  All three men looked at her with certain curiousness at that odd proclamation.

  “He may be a wee bit envious of your… whallupers.” She put her hand near her mouth and quietly whispered as she gestured the wee bit with her fingers.

  The trow peered around the tree and scolded Alainn. “Witch, you might still your wagging tongue and keep your opinions to yourself.”

  “I apologize, Trow, but perhaps I might just be able to offer a solution to your predicament.”

  Upon hearing her words, in his uncertain yet hopeful state, he seemed to have momentarily forgotten his dislike of men and he half bounced, have scooted out to where they stood. Each of the men stared down at the strange little creature and he glowered up at each of the tall men that stood near him.

  “I assure you, there is no solution; it has been so for over seven centuries now and is likely to be so for another seven hundred or more.”

  Alainn slowly lowered herself to the ground and sat closer to the trow contemplating what she might do to assist the trow.

  “How long do the lot of you live then?” Conner queried, undeniably interested.

  “We are timeless. Unless we meet with a great violent tragedy or are too long exposed to sunlight, we live on. We are simply able to regenerate if we should suffer a minor malady.

  “Is it a witch’s curse then that caused this misfortune? Alainn inferred.

  “Aye, a most despicable witch.”

  “And why did she curse the trows?” Danhoul asked.

  The small creature glanced at Alainn with a trace of guilt on his homely face.

  “You stole her child,” Alainn related after having read his thoughts.

  “It is true, we took the child, but she left the boy child there for us, I swear it is true. She didn’t want the child for she feared it would grow to resemble its father. She purposely left it there it there in the woods and we were specifically told it would be there.”

  “Told by whom?” Killian asked and he had crouched down now obviously interested in the peculiar tale as well.

  The trow’s small face scrunched up in distaste and it looked as though he was about to spit.

  “The trolls!” Alainn added as he then forcefully spat upon the ground. “So ‘they’ told you it was there, but why would they do that? Don’t trolls often steal children as well, but often with the intent of eating them? It is said trows usually keep the children and raise them as their own.”

  “Well, if we had offspring of our own we’d not be so inclined to do so.”

  “So you didn’t take human children before the curse was placed upon you? Alainn accused.

  “Maybe a wee bit!” He made the same gesture Alainn had done earlier, but with his long clawed fingers it appeared most amusing.

  “But now, Lady Alainn,” Conner interrupted, “there are different varieties of trolls as well, for some are small perhaps the size of a wee dog or the like and irksome but mostly harmless, others are said to be as large as a man with huge, long fangs and green in color with grotesque lumps and bumps covering their entire bodies, and those trolls dinna only eat wee bairns, but adults as well,” Conner insisted.

  The trow looked as though he might keel over with all the spitting he’d been doing each time the word troll was used.

  “And your grandmother informed you of all this?” Alainn questioned Conner.

  “Aye, but I canna say I actually believed any of it to this very day.”

  Each of the men looked to Alainn to clarify the uncertainty regarding the trolls.

  “I’ve never seen or met one of ‘them’, of any type, but I suspect there are different types for there is much misinformation and speculation on the creatures.”

  “Aye, the larger type is definitely most unpleasant for a good many reasons,” Danhoul informed them. “I’ve seen them a time or two in the realm of the gods.

  “Do you care to hear the remainder of this tale or shall we stand here discussing the various species of ‘those’ creatures till the sunlight forces me below ground?”

  “Continue, Trow.” Alainn nodded.

  “Well, the witch apparently mated with one of the larger variety and produced a child which she most certainly didn’t want,” the trow explained. “It is said she wouldn’t even allow herself to look upon the child, during or after she gave birth. She is said to have closed her eyes and did not open them until the child was taken from her.”

  “She mated with a troll?” Killian asked with disdain.

  “Well, she was not simply a witch, but an eternal lusting witch and her mother was apparently a shee, which would make her part lusting witch, and part shee. It is rumored she was not so particular about whom or what she mated with.” The trow elaborated.

  “Clearly!” Killian spoke again.

  “A lusting witch and a shee?” Alainn grimaced in distaste. “That would make her much like the love fairies, but capable of powerful spells, she was surely even more dangerous and perhaps impossible to resist. The love fairies’ sole purpose is to tempt males and to mate, endlessly, but a lusting witch would have much more power over her victims. But why would she leave the child to be taken and then curse the trows when they did so?”

  “It is all rather complic
ated,” the trow suggested, “and time is short for the sun is certain to rise in little time.”

  “And then you’ll just magically produce a…” Conner wondered aloud, but the trow had no time to address the inquiry for Alainn spoke.

  “Finish the tale, trow, for I must see if anything can be done to undo or reverse the curse.”

  “Well, apparently the troll”—he spat violently in saying the word—“was actually a wizard who had merely made himself appear to be a troll and when he learned the witch had borne his child and that she had simply left it to be taken and possibly become fodder for any number of creatures, he was enraged and placed a spell upon her. Although she would remain beautiful in appearance, and ever-lusting, she would be incapable of attracting a male of any species no matter how often or diligently she attempted it or what powerful magic spells she created. Not until the lost child was located and returned to him.”

  “But why would she leave the child to be taken or possibly be killed?”

  “The witch is said to have left the child out at the mercy of whomever might find it because she assumed it would have the appearance and the tendencies of the father, a troll!” He spat. “When she learned he was not actually a troll, but a human wizard, she apparently hoped if she fabricated the tale of the trows stealing the child away, the wizard would take pity on her and remove the spell. It is said he saw through her falsehood and the spell remains for she has never been able to locate the child.”

  “If there is even a marginal amount of truth in the tale, it sounds more than a bit of a muddled mess to me,” Killian declared.

  All of them including the trow nodded their agreement.

  “It is the solemn truth!” Trow said in seriousness.

  “And does the witch still live?” Alainn asked clearly interested.

  The trow nodded. “She does, for she is an immortal witch. I know it to be true, for in her unhappy and lusting state she sometimes comes to see if we know the location of the child. We told her the trolls took the child, so she is sure to believe the child was killed. Now she appears to take delight in rubbing it in our faces for although she suffers with being unable to mate, we suffer the same fate for still we cannot mate or reproduce.”

  “Maybe you should rub it in her face that she can’t get anyone to shag her even though she has been a desperate state of lusting for over seven hundred years.” It was Danhoul who offered this suggestion as, he, too appeared to be empathetic of the trows’ plight.

  “Has she never seen her child then when she visits the trows?” Killian questioned.

  “Well, there are more than a few human children of various ages in our villages,” the trow disclosed with some shamefulness. “And we do take them with us when we spend our days beneath the ground and our nights as well when we suspect she may be near.”

  “So there are any number of lost human children made to spend a good portion of their lives beneath the ground,” she suggested with noticeable disapproval.

  The trow squirmed uncomfortably at her accusing tone and nodded as he hung his strange tiny head.

  “Why didn’t you simply turn the child over to the witch then if it would end the curse?” Conner spoke.

  “We did not trust her for lusting witches are vicious creatures, if they cannot mate with a male, they will kill them, although sometimes they apparently kill them even after they mate with them, or during for they are said to be cruel and insatiable during the joining. It is certain this witch has killed males of a variety of species in past centuries before and after the curse.”

  “She is clearly truly immortal then to have lived for seven centuries. Will she die if the spell is undone for there are those types of spells with such conditions placed upon them?” Alainn cocked her head deep in thought and spoke lowly.

  She glanced at Danhoul and then at the trow, but both simply shrugged.

  “But if the child was half human, would he not be long since dead?” Killian suggested.

  “He was half human, but his mother immortal so it was likely he might have lived for a few centuries. However, apparently the wizard placed a spell on himself which included any child he might have fathered. He is now immortal as well, and so the child is entirely immortal now for he has lived for seven centuries as well.” The trow alerted them.

  “Well, it is apparent what must be done. We must locate the child who was born to the witch, find the wizard, return the child to the wizard, and then see the spell undone. Then we shall summon the witch, and with the spell undone she will be most pleased to be able to attract males again, therefore she will surely remove the curse she placed on the trows and they will be capable of mating and reproducing again.”

  “Is that all that must be done?” Killian’s voice was thick with continued sarcasm, which once was rare for him.

  “You recall we do have to locate your father and see to other important matters,” Danhoul reminded her.

  “And we must get back to Mary for she’ll be wondering what is keeping us, and on the chance that disagreeable husband of hers followed her, we’ll need to take her away before the bairn is born.”

  “And the sun is soon to rise!” The trow actually pinched Alainn on the arm when she did not respond, and in seeing she seemed deep in thought.

  “Ouch!” She swatted his clawed finger away. “Troll,” she blared and the trow spat once more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So you dinna rate the importance of an actual name?” Conner quizzed the trow.

  “I have a name,” he replied indignantly, “It is Trow.”

  Alainn heard the trow explain and saw Conner’s confused expression.

  The two were conversing while Alainn and Danhoul conferred on how to approach the many tasks at hand or whether it was even feasible to consider it. Killian was staring at Alainn with some concern and she questioned him with her eyes before he spoke.

  “Do you have any notion how long this might take, Alainn?”

  “Not for certain, no,” she admitted. “But if Danhoul and I both are able to still time then I am hopeful it can be attended to with reasonable curtness. Not this night for there will need to be some deliberate preparation to ready the summoning spells and create a protective barrier so the witch can be contained if she is not willing to cooperate.”

  “And are you the only one who can manage this? If this has been ongoing for centuries, must it be up to you to magically attend to it?” he questioned.

  “Well, I must at least attempt to rectify the situation and end the curse on the trows. If Danhoul and I are not able to manage it by dawn the day after tomorrow, I will concede my inability and we will then continue the search for my father.”

  Killian’s eyes nearly always revealed his moods, his joy and his ire, and at the moment Alainn noticed there was great uncertainty in the alluring eyes that held her heart.

  “And were you not warned to keep your magic at bay?”

  “Aye, the gods spoke of such, but also told me to enlist magical creatures and use my magical intuitiveness. I think I shall not care to listen or take heed to much the gods have told me, for always it seems to be contradictory,”

  “Aye,” he said with a sigh as he walked away and it was clear he was not entirely in favor of this venture.

  She left her position near Danhoul and went to Killian. She touched his arm and he turned to face her, she was struck by the haunting look of discontent in his eyes.

  “If I can see the curse undone, I must, Killian. You know how gravely and unnecessarily your own O’Brien line suffered because of Mara’s potent curse. If someone had been capable of ending it many years ago, how much tragedy and despair would have been prevented? Not only can these poor wee creatures never produce young, they can’t even mate.”

  “Aye, that would be an unenviable life, sure I agree, and I’m certain possessing magical abilities makes you believe you can remedy much. But you cannot always be the one to take on everyone’s injustices and unfortunate cir
cumstances, Alainn.”

  “I know you speak the truth, Killian, but if I’m able, how can I not?”

  “Sometimes, you don’t actually think it through before you charge ahead so eager are you to assist those in need. Do you truly know anything of this wizard or the child that was born to the witch? Do you have any notion what the wizard wants with the child? You clamor to the aid of many, magical or no, for it is part of your giving nature, but I’d suggest one day soon, you maybe need to take time to sort out the uncertainties you and I face as well”

  With that, he stared at her with distinct seriousness, and her heart despaired as he did not wait for her reply before walking away.

  *

  “You are certain you want to attempt this, Alainn, even though the gods have warned you to be cautious and limited in the use of your magic?” Danhoul who questioned her now.

  “The gods informed me using my magic would alert the demon to my location. The evil being inside me summons the demon wherever we go. I sense it, though I cannot say why he has not shown himself. I also believed the use of my magic causes the child’s own abilities to grow, but they now grow at an alarming rate no matter what I do.

  “If the gods are not successful in seeing the child gone then I believe I shall die in less than a week’s time. That is the only certainty I know at this time. And, if that is to be the truth, then before I meet my end, I desire my magic to be employed in a benevolent manner one more time to assist the trows.”

  “I see your mind is set,” Danhoul stated and she nodded. “You’re confident you can still time and create a summoning spell for an eternal witch and a wizard?” Danhoul’s face revealed his doubt.

  “I know not what I can accomplish anymore, Danhoul!” she said as she stared off toward where Conner and Killian were standing.

  “Well, sure you’ll not be capable of accomplishing anything if your mind is on your husband and his uncertainty in your attempting this feat.”

  “It’s not as if this has to be addressed this very night for we’ve lived seven hundred years like this, a few more weeks or even years won’t make much difference.” The small creature added.