by Terah Edun
“Don’t thank me yet,” he barked. “I haven’t done anything.”
Still, a bit of relief flowed through Mae, as for the first time in a while, the sun seemed to be breaking through the heavy bank of clouds to smile down on them this day.
22
“Well,” Old Man Bergin said, “let’s see it, then.”
Eager not to dissuade him from his newly generous mood, Mae waved Richard forward fast.
Richard opened the book and placed his hand flat on pages. As before, the incantation appeared, and Bergin wasted no time studying the text.
The old man squinted at the pages before muttering, “I’ll need something more for this.”
Mae cocked her head quizzically as she wondered what sort of mage implement he would be getting to let him study the text closely.
He hobbled over to the stool he’d put on the floor earlier and sat down while putting out two bits of glass from his pocket.
No, it’s one bit of glass, Mae thought in amazement as she watched him put the strange contraption on his face.
Richard turned around and glared at Mae, telling her she wasn’t as successful as she’d thought at keeping her amusement to herself, so she put her hands over her mouth and made a show of looking around the hut.
“Your home is nice,” Mae said once she got control over her expression. She could appreciate the solitude of his cabin on an island in the middle of the forest. Considering the hustle and bustle of the greater holding day in and day out, it almost sounded serene.
The only response the hermit gave her to indicate he had heard her was a grunt. Trying to keep silent and not distract him, Mae came to Richard’s side and watched the light of his glowing hands play across the back of his wrist. It was almost like the light was rippling, especially here in the dark interior of the cabin. It was pretty to look at, but Mae wondered if it meant something. She didn’t have the training or the magic to figure out why, though, so she left it alone as Bergin slowly made his way across every instructional line of the text with a deliberate finger.
It took some minutes, but when he finished and looked up again, she had to stifle a giggle. His eyes looked as wide as saucers with those silly bits of glass held on the bridge of his nose by thin wires. But she didn’t dare show amusement; there was no telling what would set him off this time.
He mumbled a bit before Mae grew frustrated and said, “Excuse me?
Glaring at her with a put-upon expression, Bergin replied, “I said it’ll work if you do this before the girls get too ill.”
“What’s too ill?” Mae asked.
“They’re already been battling the illness for over a fortnight,” Richard said. “Far longer than most others.”
“I can’t tell you how they’ve been holding on for so long,” the hermit said. “Just that the incantation is designed to be cast before they become aphasiac.”
“A-aph-asiac?” Mae said. She didn’t know what that meant.
“The girls are still screaming, no?”
Mae nodded.
“Then they aren’t there yet, but they will be,” Bergin said confidently.
“How much time do we have?” Mae asked, trying to gather her courage.
“How should I know?” Bergin asked. “I’m not their healer, nor am I by their bedsides.”
That was the worst thing he could have told her.
As if he saw the wild look in her eyes and knew she needed a win, the old man’s face softened. “The sickness works in a cyclical timeline, and the ill will progressively deteriorate. Just before falling into muteness, the screams will reach a fever pitch, and then…nothing. Like they’ve become ghosts before their time.”
Richard and Mae exchanged worried glances.
“Their cries have been long and strident these last few nights,” Mae said.
“Then you’d best hurry,” Bergin said. “This incantation, cast with the appropriate ingredients and with the support of mages around you, should work.”
“Right,” Mae said, trying to get it all straight in her head. “We’ve got the words—now we need the power and the physical ingredients while we lay hands on the girls.”
“Best be getting to it, then. With the time you’re wasting here, they could already be dead.”
It was as rude an instruction as Mae had ever seen, but she took his words at face value. They needed to leave now and get to the sickroom posthaste. If she could snag a foreigner with mage powers along the way, she’d do that too.
Knowing time was of the essence, Richard closed the grimoire with a thump, and they left without goodbyes.
As she and Richard walked back across the bridge, the hermit behind them said, “Who you got to cast the spell?”
Mae and Richard halted mid-crossing and looked back at him.
Richard said, “Why—are you offering?”
Old Man Bergin spat into the moat. “Not a chance. Not even if you brought the ill here and paid me a mountain of gold. Those ingrates at the greater holding will get nothing from me. Ever.”
Mae shook her head sadly. “Is your hate for those who have done you wrong so great that you would condemn children?”
The old man gave a callous laugh. “If you’d known what you were asking, you wouldn’t have let that question fall from your fool lips, girl.”
Mae turned to leave. There was nothing else to be gained here.
Behind her, she heard the old man hit his staff on the bridge.
“One more piece of advice?” Bergin said.
Mae hesitated. She wasn’t sure she could take hearing more foul words spill from his mouth, but if it had something to do with the casting, she couldn’t turn away. Mae looked over at him.
There was a hard look in the hermit’s eyes. “If I were you, I’d take my licks where they came. This casting will take a lot of power, and you need the strongest gifts the greater holding can give.”
“Meaning?” Mae asked.
Bergin’s visage darkened. “Don’t think I don’t know what it means to steal from my mother’s collection.”
Mae shivered, wondering if he was talking about her indiscretion this time…or something else.
“To get on her bad side is to risk everything—your freedom and sometimes even your life if she’s angry enough.”
“And you still think we should go before her and tell her everything?” Richard asked.
“The Council of Elders, too,” Bergin said. “She’ll inform them of it all anyway, and they’ll call you to bow and scrape before them. Might as well get it over with.”
Mae waved away the visual he had just described. It was too scary to imagine being hauled before them.
“But about your mother,” Mae said. “If she’s going to punish us regardless, what reason would we have to ask her to bless this casting?”
“You’re not getting her permission,” Bergin said with a laugh. “That’s gone and done. You’ll just have to fess up and push through despite her obstinacy.”
“Then since we’re running out of time, why do you want us to go to her?” asked Richard.
“Power,” Bergin said. “She has it. You need it. Besides, for this indiscretion, I think she’ll be forgiving. She has to be if she wants that cure you two concocted.”
Richard said, “She’s never been forgiving before.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“What if we don’t?” Mae said. She wasn’t being obstinate, just wanted to know their options.
“Then you’ll fail,” Bergin said.
“We have Richard to start with,” Mae said.
The old man laughed. “He’s not enough, and he’ll never be enough, even with the power a pair of second-rate mages that you can find in the greater holding would give. You need my mother.”
Mae shifted uncertainly. This wasn’t her field of expertise, and she had no idea if he was right or just blustering.
Richard said, “And if we don’t involve Grandmother and the Council of Elders?”
<
br /> Bergin shook his head and turned to hobble back into his cabin. “Like I said,” he called just before he shut the door, “you don’t have a choice.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll find some people,” Richard said before turning back and walking over the bridge.
Mae wasn’t so sure. She didn’t like the idea of going to their grandmother for an appeal, mostly because she was known to brand thieves’ cheeks on a good day, but Mae didn’t think they had many other choices.
This was the mage Richard was adamant they had to come to for answers, after all, and Bergin was clear—they needed the head councilwoman of the Darnes clan or they would fail.
Avoiding the alligator’s swampy moat with a glare, Mae began her trek back through the forest with Richard while soaking wet, bone tired, and slightly hopeful.
It was a strange combination, but slowly, the anxiety overwhelmed any other feelings she had about being soaked to her core.
Mae noted that although they had confirmed they were on the right track, their deadline had just gotten closer, and they still didn’t have the key pieces needed before they could do the casting. Not only that, but they still needed to test the bodily fluids Ember had gathered and convince some very trader-savvy foreigners that it was in their best interest to help the children of the holding.
We might need to reorganize our plan here, Mae thought wearily. She bit her lip and eyed Richard.
“What?” he asked, clearly irritated.
“We need to move quicker,” Mae said.
“I’m walking to match your pace,” he said. “If you want to go faster, I’m happy to run.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Mae said, stopping abruptly. Her legs were shorter, but she was concerned with overall time, not just their speed through a dense forest.
She set the bag with the grimoire down. The longer she carried it the more it felt like carting around a load of bricks, and she was happy to place it at the foot of a large tree to think for a moment. She didn’t want to do it this way, but she saw no other choice.
“Mae,” Richard said in a voice that said he was rapidly getting fed up.
Mae looked up and said, “I think we need to split up. Divide and conquer once more.”
“What did you have in mind?” Richard asked.
“One of us needs to gather the ingredients from the forest while we’re here, and the other needs to meet up with Ember to test the bile and the incantation together.”
“What about the mages?” Richard said with a scratch of his head. “We need two more of those, or none of this will work.”
“We need them too,” Mae said. “We’re running out of time!”
“All right, all right,” Richard said. “Calm down. We’ll make it work.”
“How?” Mae asked.
“By doing this just a little differently,” he said.
She looked at him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“You trust me, right?” he asked, adopting his most charming pose.
“Yes,” Mae said warily.
He nodded. “Good—then I’ve got a plan.”
He launched into it before she could object.
“You,” Richard started, “should meet up with Ember, but not to test the bile.”
“Then what—”
He held up a finger. “While I grab dill and white ash from a special friend and meet you back in the cloisters in time for the test. You get to Ember, explain the details to her of what Old Man Bergin said. I’m sure she’ll have a hundred questions, so that by the time I get back, you should have worn her down.”
“Oh, is that all?” Mae muttered.
He rolled his eyes. “At that point, we’ll have everyone together, the incantation verified, the snot and bile tested,—”
“It’s sweat,” Mae interjected.
“— then will be ready to throw ourselves at the mercy of the Council of Elders…including Grandmother as the head.”
“I’m not sure I like that last part,” Mae grumbled.
Richard shrugged. “I’ve come around to the fact that she’s going to find out anyway. Better that it be from us.”
“Easy for you to say,” Mae said. “Grandmother isn’t likely to chop off your head for stealing from her collection.”
“Any questions?” he asked.
“Yes. When did you get so many special friends in your life?”
He sent her a wicked grin. “I’m a popular boy around town.”
Mae rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything, because she wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole.
“So we’re good?” Richard said.
Mae shifted uneasily, then she held out her hand for a shake. “We’re good.”
“One other thing,” Richard said. “I can move faster than you, have longer legs than you, and have a stronger back.”
“Your point?” Mae asked.
“Well, I should carry the grimoire, then,” Richard said. “I promise to get it back in one piece.”
Mae didn’t hesitate—she didn’t want to carry the heavy grimoire back through the forest and the open meadow anyway. There was already sweat running down her face to mix with the swamp water soaked into her clothes. This way, she could get back to the greater holding quickly, and Richard, with his bigger size, could carry the load easier.
“Teamwork,” Mae said with a smile as she handed over her prized possession.
Richard gave her a sharp grin, and she started to stretch her limbs.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he adjusted the straps and put the grimoire on his back.
“Getting ready to run,” Mae said. “This forest is going to eat my dust.”
Richard laughed. “Fair enough.”
Mae left knowing that even if she had time, she wouldn’t have argued with about the grimoire. She needed to get to the sickroom before Ember got impatient and came looking for them. So Mae left the grimoire and Richard behind as she loped off, putting all her focus on the forest floor, because a hidden root could mean a broken ankle if she wasn’t careful.
She just hoped Richard was as careful with her grimoire as she was.
23
Mae was covered in muddy, swamp-soaked clothes and sweat by the time she got back into the greater holding. Plus, she smelled. She knew she smelled because her nose wasn’t broken, no matter what the foreigner boy thought was possible, and every person she came across gave her a very wide berth. Some even crossed the courtyard when they got within feet of her. Mae knew time was of the essence, but she couldn’t go the rest of the day like this. She ducked into the stable and scrubbed herself as hard as she could from the trough they kept for stable boys. Well…stable boys who’d fallen into one too many piles of manure, anyway. She grabbed some of their extra clothes and was on her way again. She still made it back to the sickroom in record time, but Ember didn’t even let Mae get acclimated to the putrid smell before she laid into her.
Mae just took it as she bent over, trying to inhale and not cry from the way the smell was attacking her eyes, nose, and mouth.
“What’s happening?” Ember asked.
Mae didn’t answer; she was too busy wheezing.
“Are you all right?” Ember asked as she got closer. “Weren’t you wearing different clothes when you left?”
Ember gave a confused wrinkle of her nose, but Mae couldn’t answer.
“What is that awful smell?” Mae said as she covered her mouth and tried to back away, but it was everywhere in the room. It was like days-old rancid eggs.
Ember glanced at the door as if someone could come at any time. That wasn’t going to happen, in Mae’s opinion, because the only people nearby were standing far off down the hallway when she’d first approached the room. They hadn’t stopped her from entering, but it was quite clear that no one else would be stepping in unless they were forced to. Mae had wondered why all those people were gathered outside with masks over their face, but now her only concern was how to get rid of the
stench.
“Ember,” snapped Mae. She was only able to get one word out before she covered her mouth and tried to breathe with her nose buried in her sleeve.
Ember brightened. “You like it? My own invention.”
Mae looked at her with watering eyes, still waiting for an explanation.
“I had to clear out the room,” Ember said. “There were too many people in here with the girls. After I set off the stink capsule, I volunteered to stay behind and monitor the girls until the stink dissipated.”
“It’ll take weeks for this stench to be gone,” Mae said as she briefly, so briefly, raised her mouth from her sleeve again.
“The stench only lasts an hour, and I opened all the windows,” Ember said.
Mae glanced at the far wall and saw that this part, at least, was true.
Mae coughed and said, “Why aren’t you affected like the rest?”
“Oh!” Ember said. “I bought a tonic to briefly turn off my sense of smell. I even got three doses—one for each of us.”
She reached into a pocket and produced two vials.
Mae didn’t castigate her for holding out so long. She said, “Bless you,” as Ember handed it over. Mae was quite aware of the irony of using this when she had accused the foreigner boy of lying about his ability to do the very same thing, but all she wanted right now was relief from the stench.
She gulped it down, and within seconds her world turned back to normal.
“Now, where’s Richard and what took you so long?” Ember said, placing her hands on her hips. She looked around Mae as if she was hiding him somewhere.
Mae stepped back in front of her and glared. “Considering I made it back here in under one and a half hours, I’d say I was actually pretty fast.”
“Well, you certainly look horrible enough to have run here.”
Mae shot her a withering look. “You don’t know the half of it. Let’s just say that if I had come in here looking as I did when I first hit the gates, everyone would have been certain the stench came from me.”
“Ew,” Ember said. “So, tell me what happened with Richard.”
Mae was actually feeling a little put out, considering that was all Ember could focus on. “Apparently, he’s the only one you missed, so I guess I can tell you he died on the walk over and I have to break the news to the family.”