by Anthea Sharp
He was watching her intently. She was close enough to lean over and kiss him, not that she’d ever actually consider doing so.
Well, I’ve come this far, she thought, then leaned forward and began binding his foot. “You’ll want to have it tended properly,” she explained, “but it seems most of the damage was to your flesh. I don’t know if Faie can get infections. If not, then you should be fine.”
“We can get infections,” he explained, surprising her. “Or at least, those of us deemed lesser Faie can.”
She continued wrapping his foot. “Lesser Faie?”
“Merrows and such,” he replied, somewhat bitterly. “Those beneath the notice of the Faie Queen.”
Ah, she thought, so that’s what he is. She’d heard of Merrows. They were river Faie. Legend had it that they would charm innocents who tried to drink or fish from their rivers into drowning themselves.
She glanced at him warily.
He continued to watch her, but made no move to shove her into the water.
“Why are you dressed so nicely?” he questioned, then corrected, “Or should I say, were?” He glanced at her tattered, muddy hem.
Finished with his foot, she stood, then hobbled away to retrieve her other slipper. “It’s my eighteenth birthday if you must know, and if I don’t return soon I’ll be late for my party.”
He smirked up at her as she turned, making no move to stand. “Hoping to find a husband, are we?”
She scowled. “That would be my father’s hope, not mine.”
Finally, he stood. “I can get you out of that, you know.”
She took a step back. He was quite a bit taller than her, taller than she’d been expecting. “Do you intend to drown me?” she asked breathily.
Now it was his turn to scowl. “I merely meant to offer you a favor in return for a favor. I don’t like being in anyone’s debt, especially not brazen little human girls.”
“Oh,” she muttered as a thrill of elation shot through her. She knew one must never make deals with the Faie, but surely whoever had originally said that had never been forced into a loveless marriage.
“Do we have a deal?” he questioned, looming over her.
She resisted the urge to cower. “What exactly would you do?”
“Well,” he began slyly, “first I’d need one last favor from you, but since the favor I’ll be doing you is quite large, I’d say it all evens out.”
“Go on,” she pressed.
He smiled, making her nervous. “I came to this part of the forest to find a golden ring. It originally belonged to my great grandmother, but was stolen away long ago by the Witch of the Forest. I intend to get it back.”
Her eyes widened. “A forest witch?”
“The Forest Witch,” he corrected. “The ring is magical, so naturally, she desired it, but it doesn’t belong to her. If I’m able to retrieve this ring, I’ll be able to grant your wish.”
“But why do you need my help for that?” she questioned.
He smiled mischievously. “Because the Forest Witch cannot turn away any mortal girl who comes knocking at her door. If I show up with you, she’ll have to let us in.”
She put her hands on her hips, suspecting an attempt at trickery. “Then how did you plan on getting the ring before I came walking along?”
He shrugged. “I had to try.”
She sighed. She really wished he’d put a shirt on. “So, you want me to visit this dreaded Forest Witch to retrieve your ring, then you’ll make it so I don’t have to get married? How will you do it? I’ll not have anyone harmed.”
He lifted his hand in the air, palm toward her, revealing the slight webbing between his fingers. “I swear to you, I will harm none in granting your wish. Just leave the particulars up to me.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward home, though she could not see it from so deep within the forest. It would soon be dark, and her party would begin. Her father would disown her if she missed it.
She turned back to him. “I’ll help you on one condition. I must be back home in time for my party. It starts at nightfall.”
He raised a brow at her. “Can you be just a teensy bit late?”
She pursed her lips, then nodded. “As long as I don’t miss it altogether, we have a deal.”
He grinned. “Then let us be off. I’m Nevan, by the way.”
“Ailios,” she replied, wondering what the Faie custom was for learning someone’s name.
He patted her on the head like she was a dog, then started walking, favoring his good foot.
She scowled, then hurried after him, quite sure the head pat was less of a custom, and more of an insult.
* * *
“So was that golden fish your pet?” Ailios asked as they walked.
Nevan shook his head. “Faie don’t keep pets. Merrows can communicate with water creatures, and he simply offered to help me out.”
“So you asked him to find you another Merrow, and you ended up with me?”
He smirked, pausing to hold a branch out of her way. “Something like that. So why don’t you want to get married?”
She couldn’t help her blush. She’d been asked the question many times by Lili, and by her friends, but never by a man. She walked through the opening he’d made, and he let the branch swing back into place behind her.
“I suppose it just seems rather boring,” she explained. “To settle down and have children, and never really go anywhere. I want to explore, and to learn about the world. I don’t want to be a wife or a mother. I want to be me.”
He snorted. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind soon enough.”
She stopped walking, affixing him with her most threatening glare. “I will not. And what about you? I don’t see a Merrow wife lingering around here, nor any little Merrow children.”
He smirked. “My five older brothers have all settled down. By the time the attention was turned to me, my father no longer cared. I’m free to do as I please.”
She sighed wistfully, then continued walking. She could hardly imagine being free to explore the woods all day, or someplace beyond. To be able to talk to fish and grant wishes with magical rings.
“Ah, here we are,” Nevan announced.
Ailios stopped walking. “What do you mean, here we are? Where’s the witch’s hut?” There was nothing in sight except a large pond.
“Down there,” he explained, pointing at the water. “You don’t really think she’d have her hut out in the open where any mortal could just stumble upon it.”
She looked at the pond, then back to him. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but humans can’t breathe underwater.”
Ignoring her, he walked to the water’s edge, then turned and held out his hand to her.
She shook her head. “No thank you, I’d rather not like to drown today.”
He rolled his eyes. “You won’t drown, I swear it.”
She glanced again at the water, her heart thundering in her chest. “My mother always said to never take an oath from one of the Faie.”
He snorted, then dropped his hand to his hip. “Well you’ve already done that, if you don’t recall. Now you better hurry up unless you want to miss your party. I won’t be blamed for your lateness when you’re the one delaying.”
She bit her lip, then closed her eyes as she took a few steps forward, placing her near the water’s edge.
A warm hand wrapped around hers, interlacing their fingers. Along with the warm touch came a thrilling, prickly feeling she could only describe as magic.
“Are you going to keep your eyes closed the entire time?”
She nodded. “I fear if I open them, I’ll run the other way.”
He laughed. “Take off your slippers.”
She obeyed, kicking off each of her slippers to rest on the shore.
He tugged her forward, both their feet splashing into the water. “You’ll have to hold your breath,” he instructed, “but don’t worry. I’ll get you down there quick eno
ugh that it won’t be an issue.”
She opened her mouth to argue as he pulled her deeper into the water, then gasped for a breath just before they plunged beneath the surface. Suddenly his arms were around her, holding her to his chest. They were upside down, rushing toward the bottom of the pond. She could have sworn she felt massive fins brushing her toes.
Her eyes shot open as dry air hit her face. They’d landed on something solid. She fought against Nevan’s arms until he released her. She stood, glancing frantically around, wondering if they’d gone back to the surface, but . . . but . . . there was water above their heads? How could this be?
They were on a dry patch of land with a dome of water over their heads, yet she could breathe just fine. Ringing the water from her dress, she looked down at Nevan, then gasped. Each of his feet had turned into a long, fin-like paddle, and there were glistening aquamarine scales climbing up his shins where they showed beneath the hem of his sopping wet pants.
As she watched, the fins retreated, shaping themselves back into his relatively human-looking feet.
Once his feet were back, he stood. “This way.” He pointed. “Her home should be somewhere over there.”
She looked to where he pointed, but could only see low shrubs and rocks, shrouded in shadow. Squiggly lights from the water’s surface danced across the ground. “How is this place so large? It’s far larger than the pond itself.”
“Magic,” he said simply, then began walking.
She couldn’t seem to slow her heart to a normal beat. It was as if she could feel the immense weight of the water over their heads.
“Your foot is healed,” she observed, catching up with Nevan.
“Yes, growing fins will do that.”
There really had been fins. Her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her after all. She scanned the dim space, rapidly losing light as the sun began to set above the pond. She really should never have agreed to any of this. She should have waited for her party to begin like a proper lady.
She glanced at Nevan walking at her side, wanting to convey her worries, but suspecting he wouldn’t understand.
The next time she glanced, he was looking right at her.
She whipped her gaze away too quickly and stumbled, but he caught her before she could fall, for the second time sending a little thrill of magic through her body, raising the tiny hairs on her arms.
Once she was steady, he withdrew his hands. “Are you nervous?”
She started to shake her head, then stopped. “Yes. Aren’t you?”
He laughed, then continued walking. “Just make sure you answer honestly any questions the witch might ask. Even if you think the answers might make you look like a bad person, she’ll know if you’re lying.”
She stared at his back as he continued walking, suddenly more nervous than before. Would Nevan be present when she had to answer these questions?
He turned and looked over his shoulder at her. “I told you before, if you make yourself late for your party, it doesn’t count as me breaking my oath.”
She scowled at him, a witty reply ready on her tongue, but then a chilly gust of wind hit her back as if urging her forward.
She hurried to catch up to his side, her eyes wide. “How is there wind down here?”
“The witch brings harsh winds wherever she goes,” he explained. “Or at least, that’s what the legends say.”
“Legends?” she questioned, matching his pace as they continued onward. “Just how old is this witch?”
He shrugged. “As old as the earth, or so I’m told.”
“Great,” she muttered facetiously. She really wished he would have mentioned that to begin with.
Birch trees came into view, their narrow white trunks swaying like phantoms in the near darkness. She didn’t even bother questioning the presence of trees. If wind could blow underwater, anything was possible. It was hard to imagine that she’d been in her normal, boring bedroom just that morning, preparing for a party she didn’t want. It all seemed so far away.
“Her hut is always surrounded by birch trees,” Nevan whispered, his ocean-colored eyes intent on the narrow shapes. “No matter where it is, the trees will grow.”
“How do you know all of this?” she whispered back, her heart in her throat.
“All Merrows know the tale of the Forest Witch,” he said cryptically.
A small, strange hut came into view, nestled within the trees. It looked almost like a cauldron, but with a solid roof, and small, dark windows. Surrounding it was a crooked fence composed of white sticks that looked suspiciously like bones. Ailios recalled what Nevan had said about the witch never turning away a mortal girl. How many mortal girls would be needed to make an entire fence out of bones?
She gulped.
“Keep walking,” Nevan prompted, making her realize she’d stopped dead in her tracks.
She couldn’t seem to move.
She stared at the hut. “What happens if you lie to the witch?”
“Don’t,” he said simply.
A warm hand slipped into hers. She could feel the slight webs of his long fingers rubbing against her skin, but she no longer found them strange. In fact, when compared with a giant cauldron home in a bubble under a pond, Nevan was utterly normal.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered, waiting for her to walk forward.
She turned to him, perplexed, then narrowed her gaze. “I can take care of myself.”
His eyebrows raised, but he didn’t argue.
She gulped, suddenly wishing he had. She was just a sheltered Alderman’s daughter. Truly no match for a witch, or for the Faie man now gently tugging her forward.
Finally, her bare feet began to move. Slowly at first, then quickly as she crossed through a small opening in the bone fence, Nevan still at her side. The tiny hairs on her neck stood at attention, even slicked down as they were by her wet hair. She realized with a start that she’d gotten rid of the horrible curly hairstyling after all, then internally chided herself for worrying about something so silly while she was approaching a witch’s hut.
They reached the door, made from the same heavy iron as the home’s walls.
“Knock three times,” Nevan instructed. “The witch will answer.”
Ailios lifted her free hand, firmly clenching her fist to hide its trembling. Nevan still held her other, which was odd, but she felt reluctant to pull away. If only her father could see her now. He wouldn’t mind her holding hands with a proper lord, but a Merrow? He would die at the sight.
She felt her arm was working of its own volition as her fist knocked on the heavy iron three times, stinging her knuckles. Her hand had barely left the door after the third rap when it swung inward with a loud creak.
A fire blazed in a hearth opposite the door, releasing a wave of heat to prickle across Ailios’ face. She couldn’t help but think that the flame was large enough to consume her entire body at once.
“Enter,” a wizened voice called out, though from the angle, she could see no witch.
“Do not keep her waiting,” Nevan whispered.
Horrified at the thought of angering the witch, Ailios practically leapt across the threshold, dragging Nevan along behind her. The door swung shut with a loud creak, trapping them, and it was all Ailios could do to keep her heart stuffed below her throat.
Her eyes darted around for the location of the witch, scanning past shelves packed with dried goods and bottles of liquid, a small straw bed near the fire, and a rickety wooden table covered with crystals, branches, dried herbs, and, she gulped, animal parts. Ailios was glad that none of the dried up parts looked human, but there still could be human parts elsewhere in the hut. It was deceivingly large on the inside.
A throat cleared, and Ailios whirled around. At some point she’d apparently dropped Nevan’s hand, as he was free to step in front of her, placing himself between her and the witch.
Ailios had expected an old woman, but the witch appeared only around her f
ather’s age. Her long hair still clung to much of its original dark color, and her face was only slightly lined. Ailios perused the rags that clothed the witch, drawing her eyes back upward to her face, which suddenly appeared younger. Ailios blinked, and the witch appeared to be an old crone.
She gasped, then took a step back.
“A human woman and a Faie man?” the witch crooned, her voice old and young all at once. “How unusual.” She stared at them for a moment, her pupils lost in the near-blackness of her irises. “One seeks my magic ring, but the other?” Her eyes pierced right through to Ailios’ soul.
“Where is the ring?” Nevan asked, distracting the witch’s intent gaze.
The witch smiled at him. “You can have it, and the girl can have a wish, but only if she can pass my tests. If she fails, I’ll have you both for supper.”
Ailios let out a frightened squeak, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to draw the witch’s attention. She flicked her gaze to the door. If she tugged on it, would it open, or had the witch sealed them inside with magic?
“She’ll take your tests,” Nevan agreed, making Ailios’ heart skip a beat, “but if she fails, you only get to eat me.”
“And why would I make such a deal?” the witch snapped.
“Because Ailios doesn’t need a wish,” he explained. “I am the only one with something to gain, so I should be the only one with something to lose.”
Ailios felt that now was not the time to remind him he’d promised her a wish. At that moment, the world where she was supposed to choose a man to marry seemed far away.
The witch was watching her steadily, as if weighing her worth. “You would trust this puny mortal girl with your life?” she asked of Nevan.
“Of course,” he said smoothly.
If Ailios didn’t think Nevan a bit mad before, she surely thought it now.
The witch turned her attention to her. “I will ask you three questions. Answer them correctly, and your friend will live. Fail just once, and he shall die.”
“I will live, and you’ll give me the ring,” Nevan corrected, ignoring the latter part of the statement.