by Terah Edun
“He’s the mage who was disfigured after creating that fire break last fall,” Mae said.
“Oh, right,” Richard said. “No. Think differently.”
Mae furrowed her brow and thought hard on it. She looked at Ember with a raised brow, but her sister backed away and said, “Don’t look at me. I’m not good at guessing games.”
Mae was stumped until something else occurred to her, someone so outlandish that she normally wouldn’t have presented them as a thought, but these were strange times.
“You want to ask the foreigners for their opinion?” Mae said.
“What? No,” Richard said, disgusted.
Ember looked confused now. “How is that any different from getting them to actually cast this incantation with us?”
Apparently guessing games are okay when you get to start questioning the suspect instead, Mae thought, temporarily amused. She didn’t mind her sister stepping back in, though; they all needed some agency for this to work.
“Because holding folk don’t ask outsiders for their advice on anything,” Richard replied. “If they want to return the favor of their lodging and guest stay with good, honest work, then that’s different.”
“You and I have different definitions of honest,” Ember muttered.
“I wouldn’t be so sure they haven’t already paid their way through coin to our parents,” Mae said. “No one stays in a holding for free, and they’ll in turn demand payment from us if we want services from them.”
Richard and Ember looked at her, and Mae hastily said, “That’s something to think on later, after we’ve confirmed…everything else.”
“Right,” Ember said, totally unconvinced.
“So,” Richard said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “You still haven’t guessed who my someone is.”
“Just tell us,” Ember said.
Richard looked put out for a moment, but he rallied. “Well, since neither of you seem amenable to guessing…”
Mae cleared her throat and made a circular motion with her finger, asking him to move it along.
“Then I’ll just tell you,” he said. “Old Man Bergin is our best bet.”
Mae blinked and blinked again. She honestly had no idea who he was talking about.
Richard looked back and forth between them like an eager dog who had brought his master a hare and was waiting for them to respond with praise.
Shaking her head, Mae finally admitted, “Not really ringing a bell here.”
“Bergin?” Ember said. “Is that one of your retired guardhouse friends?”
“Guardhouse?” Mae muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
“The lazy louts he likes to pal around with when no one’s paying attention,” Ember said.
“That’s not true,” said Richard, outraged.
The girls turned to look at him almost as if they’d forgotten he was standing there during their semi-private conversation. Red splotches had blossomed on Richard’s cheeks.
“What part?” Mae asked.
“That they’re lazy!” Richard snapped.
Mae raised an eyebrow at Ember.
Ember said, “Well, they certainly sleep a lot for men who aren’t lazy.”
“They weren’t sleeping on the job—they get rest breaks,” Richard countered.
“For nonexistent work,” Ember replied with a smirk.
Mae almost laughed herself. It was a well-known holding fact that the “guardhouse” hadn’t held a prisoner in over five years, and the last one had been a horse thief who’d been branded with the evidence of his crime on his cheek. He was released within days of his crime. Other than random prisoners, the guardhouse men were supposed to keep a patrol of the perimeter, but there wasn’t much to patrol—just endless fields of green spreading out on a flat landscape as far as the eye could see. So, they either patrolled inside the holding embarkment…or they slept, and it was easy to guess which they did more of.
Still, it was clearly a touchy subject for Richard, so she tried to back off.
“Okay, okay,” Mae said, waving her hands. “Back to Bergin—he doesn’t work at the guardhouse, I take it?”
“No,” said Richard. “He doesn’t work anywhere. He’s not actually in the holding; he—”
That was as far he got, because Mae realized who he was talking about. “You mean the crazy hermit in the woods!”
She hadn’t known his name, just how every person, young and old, referred to him.
“He’s not crazy, and he’s also the best chance we have at talking to a well-trained mage who won’t rat on us,” Richard said.
“You don’t know that,” Ember said.
It was exactly what Mae would have said, but she got the feeling her sister would have said anything to contradict Richard at the moment.
“I do, in fact,” said Richard. “I trust Bergin, and he would rather chew his own arm off than talk to the council that exiled him.”
Mae turned her head to the side and rubbed her left shoulder with her right arm. As did her sister. As did Richard. It was a sign to ward off bad luck, and Bergin’s punishment had to be some of the worst luck she’d heard of. Being exiled only happened but once every few generations, or so Mae heard, but when it did, it sent a ripple of fear down every single one of her relatives’ spines. No one wanted to be cut off from their blood, the family they had grown up with. Even if that family was difficult sometimes, and she might want to strangle one or two, there was no one Mae was closer to, and she was sure the same could be said for all of her relatives.
Which was what convinced her to go with Richard’s pick. Not because he trusted Bergin, but because the man must miss his family. Being exiled meant every relative he had ever known was prohibited from speaking to him or acknowledging his ties to the bloodline. To imagine Old Man Bergin’s isolation put a shiver down her spine. She didn’t know how or why Richard had broken that covenant in order to become friendly enough with the old man to inspire trust, but whatever friendship he had built with Richard, Old Man Bergin would want more. More companionship, just to push away the loneliness for a little bit. Mae would. Having grown up in the holding towers, she’d never truly been alone. As demonstrated by her repeated attempts to get away with the grimoire and finding nowhere satisfactory to hide.
“You’re sure he’ll come through for us?” Mae asked.
“I’m sure he’s the only mage within a day’s ride who won’t rat us out to the council the first chance they get,” Richard said. “He just…wants company.”
“And he knows magic,” Ember said skeptically.
Richard shot her a look but tersely nodded.
“Fine—it makes sense, then,” Mae said.
“If we have no other choice,” Ember muttered.
“We don’t.”
The hermit might be the only person who would help them, had magic, and wouldn’t go running to the Council of Elders. Not that he could. If she remembered correctly, he had also gotten in trouble after the exile. So the council had ordered him hobbled. It was a pretty gruesome maneuver, but he had tried to blow up an outer wall or two.
“Good,” Richard said, flashing an eager smile.
It made sense. He actually liked the old coot. Everyone else stayed away from his remote cabin, even those assigned to give him provisions on an annual basis, unless they wanted to be whacked across the head with a cane—on a good day.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s go!” Mae said, ushering them out of the room in haste.
She quickly grabbed up the grimoire before Ember could pick it up from the chair. As Mae rushed out of the front door, though, she was surprised to find that it was Richard who seemed most interested in it, not Ember.
He reached for the book as soon as they got into the hallway. “Maybe I should carry it.”
Mae held it tight to her chest. “It’s not heavy. I’ve got it.”
“I’m sure,” Richard replied. “But it might be better if others come upon us for me to be
carrying it.”
“Why?” Mae asked.
“Because I’m the authority out of the three of us and can explain it away more easily,” he said, puffing out his chest.
“You’re three years older than me and one year older than Ember,” Mae said. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Why don’t we just put it in this?” Ember said, waving a satchel.
“Or that could work,” Richard muttered, seemingly disappointed.
Which surprised Mae. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with the text before, so why ask for it now? But she let it go and took Ember’s bag with a quick thank you.
As Richard’s attention turned toward finding them the fastest way out of the holding without encountering obstacles, Mae turned her focus to Ember. Her sister was now walking side by side with her, and Mae had the urge to chat. Not about the grimoire or the darkness consuming their family. But about everyday stuff—hair, clothes, the market, anything.
It was just…harder than she’d anticipated finding the right words to begin.
The funny thing was that Mae had been eager to argue with her sister all morning, but now that it came down to just personal interaction, it was difficult. They were sisters, they were supposed to be close, but Mae had never found that an easy thing to develop with Ember.
Whereas Mae was active and contrary by nature, her sister was closed off and wary.
When Mae found their family life and all of the cousins bumbling into everyone else’s business soothing, Ember found it fractious at best and downright aggravating at worst.
Their differences didn’t stop there. But Mae wanted to repair the invisible wall that seemed to have sprung up between them.
Clearing her throat awkwardly, she knew there wasn’t a better time to try than when they were walking out into the fresh air beyond the holding, with nothing else to do but put a mile under their feet until they got to Old Man Bergin’s cabin.
“So, this has certainly been some week,” Mae said casually.
Ember laughed. “I will admit, when I woke up yesterday and ran into you before dawn in that closed-off hallway…it wasn’t how I expected the morning to go.”
“No,” Mae said. “But now that we’re so close, so close to find a cure for the girls—it was all worth it, right?”
Ember didn’t say anything for a moment. “It’ll be worth it when we find out if this incantation you want to cast will truly work.”
“It will,” Mae said. She had no doubts.
Abruptly, Richard increased his pace to catch up with them. “If we’re going to see Old Man Bergin to ensure the validity of the spell, why don’t we get something from the girls to make sure it’s compatible specifically with them?”
Mae opened her mouth to automatically deny his request, but Ember got there first.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said.
“What?” Richard and Mae said at the same time.
“You agree with me?” Richard asked.
Ember shrugged. “Everyone’s right sometime. It’s not that I got pleasure out of arguing with you before.”
Well, that’s certainly true for one of us, Mae thought.
“If you both think it’s a good idea, who am I to stop progress?” Mae said.
“Okay,” Richard said. “So, who is going to go?”
Looking between them, Mae said, “Well, Richard needs to be present to get Old Man Bergin to sign off.”
Mae didn’t even let them disagree with her, just turned and prepared to head off.
“Wait a second,” Richard said as he reached out and caught her arm. “We need to show him the incantation, don’t we? So I should take the grimoire.”
He reached down for the object in Mae’s hands, and she stepped back instinctively. If anyone was going to keep carrying this thing, it was her. She had found it, after all.
“Uh, I think I should stick with you, then,” she said.
Richard didn’t comment on it, though he frowned at her.
Ember said, “All right, you go with Richard and I’ll head to the girl’s sickroom to get a sample of their…?” She looked at them expectantly.
Mae shrugged. “Their sweat or their bile will do.”
“How would you know?” Richard said with a look of dismissal.
“Because I pay attention to our uncles when they’re casting—unlike you,” Mae said. “Besides, that was the first thing those charlatans—”
“Charlatans?” asked Richard as he interrupted.
“Don’t get her started,” Ember said. “She hates the people who have come to the greater holding with the cures.”
“‘Cures’ that did nothing for the girls’ long-term health,” Mae snarled.
“Right,” Richard said. “Bile or snot it is.”
“Sweat, not snot,” Mae said before Ember could get out of earshot. “The sweat and bile will be the best ways to assess the effectiveness of the cure.”
“All right, got it,” Ember said. “And where should I meet you? And don’t say Old Man Bergin’s! I’m not running all the way to the sickroom and then racing out to his shack in the woods.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mae said dryly.
“What about we come to you,” Richard said. “The cloisters above the sickroom good enough?”
Ember gave him a beaming smile. “That sounds just fine.”
20
Mae hesitated in the hall until Ember said, “You know it’ll be easier for me to get to the sickroom instead of going back by the way we came if I take the side route?”
“The one that exits out near the main gate?” Mae asked with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s the one,” Ember said.
“Let’s go, then,” Richard said, looking around with a distracted air.
Mae nodded, and the three set off.
Before long, they were passing a lot of other bodies, but it didn’t take them as much time as Mae had imagined to get to their splitting-up point. Richard purposefully strode ahead of them—whether it was because he didn’t want to be seen with two girls or he wanted more time to speak with the guards at the gate, Mae didn’t know. But she didn’t mind. Soon she and Richard would be walking out through the portcullis, and Ember would be going back into the greater holding through a side entrance that would take her around the back routes. From there, Mae knew it was a little less than mile across the green pastures to get to Old Man Bergin’s. As they were going on their separate journeys, Mae wished her sister luck on hers. Everything they did from this moment on counted toward the final goal.
They were forced to slow down just a bit and navigate through thicker traffic at the gate.
Field workers, Mae thought as she ducked her head and avoided eyes.
They might have been out in the hot sun all day planting, but her relatives wouldn’t hesitate to stop her and engage in conversation if they spotted a friendly face. Keeping her head down had the effect of keeping her from being stopped, but it held the challenge of avoiding being trodden on. Soon enough, someone bumped into her so roughly that Mae was almost knocked off her feet.
Trying to keep her balance while not dropping the heavy grimoire, Mae finally managed to regain her footing and turned her head to glare at a retreating back.
“Loaf,” Mae said.
She didn’t really mean it. He’d had a hard day’s work out there and probably just wanted a bite to eat and to duck his head in a washbasin before falling into bed. Her shoulder still hurt from his shove, though. As she turned around and saw the side entrance Ember would be going in, she raised a hand to see her sister off.
But to Mae’s surprise, Ember was hesitating at the door, her hand on the handle but not turning it. Frowning, Mae touched her arm lightly. It was the first personal touch they’d had in weeks that wasn’t confrontational. Mae wasn’t precisely proud of that fact, but she felt like she and her sister were turning over a new leaf now.
In the spirit of that cooperation, Mae asked, “You know w
here to go, right?”
Ember turned and gave her a startled look, but it wasn’t animosity-filled, so that was a good change.
“Yeah,” Ember said absent-mindedly. “It’s just—”
“What?” Mae asked.
“Did you notice the men who just passed us?” Ember asked.
Mae turned to look at the men who were rapidly disappearing back into the greater holding at a fast pace. “He and his friend were in hurry, weren’t they?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t it,” Ember said with a frown.
Mae raised a brow. “Then what?”
“I don’t know—they just gave me a weird feeling,” Ember said.
“A weird feeling?” Mae said.
“Yeah,” Ember said, but before she could say any more, Richard was back with them and snapping his fingers impatiently.
“Can we get a move on, please?” he asked. “You and I need to get to Old Man Bergin’s before it gets too late if we want to be back in time to slip into the rafters.”
“Right, right,” Mae said with some irritation.
“Yes, we know,” Ember said.
“Mae and I will get the confirmation that the girls are the right patients for this incantation, and we’ll meet up with you in the hidden alcoves above the sickroom before another day disappears on me,” Richard said.
Ember nodded and put a scarf over her hair. “It’s a plan.”
“A plan,” Mae murmured softly.
As Ember turned her back on them and opened the door, Mae and Richard dipped back into the crowds together. As she did, she thought, This is kind of nice.
It was bloody hot now that the noon sun was rising, and they were going to be walking a mile in the heat with no water to drink, but it gave Mae a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time—excitement. It was with a sense of purpose in her bones that she and Richard strode off the main road to a little-used, naturally cut path through the tall grass of the meadow.
As they spotted the forest far up ahead, Mae knew that the three them at least were united in this mission, as they all wished for one thing: a miracle to come down on high to bless them all.
Before long, Richard had plucked a bit of grass to pick his teeth, and Mae was adjusting the straps on her back where the grimoire was weighing her down.