The food served at the Zere inn only came in combinations of meat, cream and breading. Spiced sausage bits in heavy cream over a plate of baked biscuits was a bit heavy on my pallet, but luckily Riordan was more than willing to pick up the slack. Keeping such late hours last night saw us both dread to get up too early, and much time was spent digesting a truly massive, if blissful, amount of food. Once we both had our fill, I called for the merry innkeeper, hoping she could make our search a quick one. After all, no one knows a town like the person who owns the only bar around.
Her face lit up. "Oh yes, Alanna! That must be who you mean. Sure, she lives here. Worked as a nanny nearly her whole life and now she practically nannies the whole village, bless." she said affectionately.
I smiled and let out a little sigh of relief from the other side of the counter. "Right, Alanna. Any chance you know where she's at?"
The woman looked behind her shoulder and up at the clock on the wall. "Hm, she'll probably be off to see her friend Petra at this hour." she replied, turning back towards me and Riordan with a sweet grin. "You'll find her place just past the great tree."
The two of us thanked her profusely as we exited the inn, excited to get some answers about where Brigadoom might be and how we could get the Wight Knight, Princess Simona, and the rest of the Kingdom of Stornway out of this pickle.
"A supernaturally charged pickle, at that." Stella said, doing her best to whisper inside my head instead of jawing off at her usual volume. "Hey, what happened to that shady, potion toting lady from last night? Didn't she say she'd see you in the morning?" she asked.
I pressed the tips of my fingers into my temples in a vain attempt to relieve the building hiss of pressure from her voice.
Riordan sidled up to me and softly knocked his elbow into my side. "Hey. You look real crappy all of a sudden."
I gave him an aside glance. "Feeling much better after such an eloquent expression of worry." I said.
The boy snorted. "Imagine being a full grown adult with a fancy sword and still getting mad about how a kid talks, pffft." he sneered as he swept past me up towards the town entrance.
Stella sprang out of my head and huffed. "I really don't know how you put up a with a pipsqueak like that." she said, flipping her sandy blonde hair over one shoulder.
I stared at her pointedly.
"What?" she asked, head tilted to the side. "Oh. Oh come on. You can NOT be confusing my delightful banter with. . . with. . ." Stella flapped her hands about inelegantly as she searched for the right words.
"Attitude?" I supplied.
Stella's features crumpled into a vision of offense. "I think you mean altitude. And why yes, I have plenty, jealous?"
In truth I was, though I certainly wasn't about to admit it to her.
"Can you just get back in here," I said pointing to my head, "and keep it down? That 'lady' you mentioned is almost guaranteed to be able to see something like you." I warned.
"Ugh, you're a real wet banquet, you know that? I was only trying to tell you to keep an eye on her anyway." Stella sulked, drifting back into my consciousness.
"Thank you, Stella. I will." and I meant it. I was grateful for how the woman had healed me, but I couldn't help but think coming across someone like her on a journey to figure out a magical mishap was suspicious at best.
I found Riordan standing in the center of the square by the towns entrance, heads and shoulders shorter than everyone around him, though his unkempt nest of wavy red locks gave him an extra inch or so today.
"I guess this is 'the great tree' everyone here can't shut up about." Riordan said, staring upwards, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he did.
I squinted upwards briefly, still none-to-impressed myself with Zere's centerpiece. "Yeah, I guess we'll get a better look soon though. Better get going." I said.
"Oh! Before we do. . ." the boy began rummaging through the small pack of supplies we had packed, before pulling out an unfamiliar book. "I thought maybe you should see this." he said, handing it to me.
The journal was fashioned from a soft hide of some kind, its outer shell bowing outward with how full it was stuffed. Small strips of colorful fabric and paper were shoved in nearly every other page to bookmark different places, causing it to look like a firework in mid-explosion. I tentatively unwound the fine cord closure and panicked as things immediately started to shift and fall from place. I clumsily shoved everything back as best I could as I scanned the pages. Minuscule, blocky handwriting covered every inch, only interrupted here and there with diagrams and formulae I had no understanding of. I frowned down at it and back towards the young boy in front of me, his face one of expectation, mine surely of confusion.
"O-okay? What is this?" I finally asked.
Riordan broke out into a wide grin. "Check the back cover."
I carefully shifted the weight of the awkward tome from front to back and searched where Riordan had mentioned. Very plainly in that same, meticulous writing was a simple pair of initials in the top corner that read 'C.P'.
I felt my brows raise in sudden understanding. "Ahh, Cerys Pelleas, 'globe-trotter, wizard, researcher', if I remember correctly. How did you get this?" I asked.
Riordan's eyes narrowed as he answered in a very even, measured tone. "How do you think I, a thief, managed to get hold of a piece of someone's personal property?"
I felt my face twist into a scowl. "Not okay." I said as I maneuvered the journal into my own bag with no small degree of difficulty. "Now I've got to make sure she gets this back. Here I was hoping to avoid her all together. . ." I sighed.
"Her being sketchy is exactly why I nicked that from her last night to begin with!" he huffed. "I was trying to help you figure out what her deal is, and all you can do is complain." he said.
"Much good that did, neither one of us can make head nor tails of whatever is crammed in that thing anyway." I laughed. "Unless you also happen to be familiar with magic gobbledygook as well as sleight of hand?" I asked.
"Gobble—what? Bah!" the boy threw his hands up. "Fine, fine, I did a bad thing that was bad, I get it. Just leave it at the Inn's front desk and act like it was lost. Not like you haven't lied to innkeepers before." he replied sharply.
I looked away. I wasn't good at outright lying, but I had steadily become more and more adept at misleading and withholding things as I spent more time in the Protectorate. It wasn't as if I did it for malicious purposes, but I still felt badly about being dishonest, especially to my friends.
I cleared my throat. "Well, right. I guess I'll let you," I said, putting as much weight on the word as I could, "handle that after we see Alanna. Shouldn't be long now, just up the hill and back around the other side."
He rolled his eyes but followed as I made my journey up the stone pathway through the little village, toward the very top of the hill it was built on.
It was a pleasant walk; the sun shone with a comfortable warmth above us as the wind whipped around in little bursts to keep us from getting too hot, the breeze sending pink petals scattering across the sky like confetti. As small as the town was, it felt incredibly lively in the daylight, with everyone taking their activities outdoors. Eating, chatting, other groups on similar walks to my own – one seemed content to waste a day like this indoors.
A little girl laughed as she ran past us downhill, her arms out at her side like a bird. A cat sat draped across a rock, lazily keeping its eye on her as she jogged back up the incline then down again and again, crying out with glee each time. Across the street the people had set up a few small fenced off areas for displaying their wares and trading goods. People of all ages milled about, some simply shopping with their eyes, and others in heated negotiations with one another.
Near the very top of the hill was the town church. It was an impressive size considering how small Zere was, it also boasted a very large front deck, currently in use by a handful of people enjoying what looked like an informal sermon. I spied the skinny priest from last night sitting on a stool by the front door, back to the outside wall of the church, eyes half lidded and his head barely propped up by one hand as a nun spoke to the small crowd. I heard a snicker from beside me and traded a giggle with Riordan as we went past.
The single road through town abruptly ended at its highest point where Zere's pride and joy of a tree stood proudly over the cheerful little settlement. It was a rich, dark wood; so much so it almost looked like it had been carved from fine chocolate. Its thick roots ran over the edge of the hill and spread throughout the town like little confectionery hills here and there, interspersed among the candyfloss-like bushes that lined the street. The base of the tree was squat, like a wooden giant crouching atop a small mountain. In contrast, its branches were dainty little twigs sticking up at all angles, tiny pink blossoms in full bloom all along them. They reminded me a lot of Stella in a way, and I suddenly found myself unsure of how much I liked this tree at all. Either way, nothing would quite ever compare to what I had grown accustomed to due to Yggdrasil's preternatural excellence.
Having seen enough, I made my way past and down a long curved staircase that lead to a little spit of land that was split from the rest of the town by the river.
"Oh. There's the inn." Riordan said, pointing across the water.
He was right, from where we stood the backside of the inn was clearly present just on the other side of us. We had gone almost full circle to reach our destination.
"You know, if they weren't so in love with their fat tree they'd probably have enough wood to make a damn bridge over here." he complained with a snort.
A dog barked nearby, and as we turned, an old man with a roughly carved cane approached, his pup at his side. "Can I help you young travelers?" he asked, his voice creaking like wind through the trees.
Riordan explained who we were looking for.
The man smiled and pointed his cane towards the cottage tucked away near the back of the town. "You'll find her inside just there. I warn you it's a bit lively when those two are together. Ah, and that's definitely why Vulk and I are out here, certainly not because I was ousted. Certainly not." he coughed. Vulk whined by his masters side, nudging his wet nose into the mans fingers until they began scratching at his ears.
I thanked him and turned to leave. I felt a small tug at my elbow a second later. Riordan held onto me firmly, his eyes cast down towards the caramel colored pup.
"Hey, do you mind if I stay out here and let you handle the ladies?" he asked, his voice unusually soft.
I snicked and ruffled his hair. "If you want to play with the dog all you've got to do is say so." I said.
"Yeah. That's it. Thanks." he said, letting me go and crouching down away from me, basking young Vulk in much appreciated attention.
I paused a moment as I watched him engage in conversation with the old man, idly rubbing the dogs belly as it writhed around in the grass. He never seemed quite so much like a child to me before, and I was happy to see it. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling alright; I could hardly touch the boys head without him throwing a tantrum or trying to break my fingers off in retaliation, yet now he hardly bat an eye.
I filed the behavior in my mind for later and approached the house.
It was the same stone and thatch make of all the other houses in Zere, but unlike those lined up and down the hill, Petra's place had a substantial yard and a found itself nestled in around a handful of those pink petaled trees. The garden wasn't like what you would see in Stornway where everything was thoughtfully placed and pruned, but was rather a carpet of various blooms dotted here and there, obviously hand planted and without much thought for what went where. It gave the area a distinctly fairy-tale feel to it, which I supposed was very apt when I came there seeking a rhyme that might lead me to a lost kingdom to save a cursed knight. The very concept was absurd the more I thought about it.
As I followed the small stone path towards the entrance, I noted several large, unfinished stone sculptures in the yard; images of men and women and animals all half discovered in the rock, but not quite resolved. Beside them, nearest to the house itself, there was a very modest headstone.
I could hear laughter on the other side of the wooden door as I approached. I knocked once. Then twice. Only to hear more hooting and ruckus. I frowned and opened the door myself.
Inside led straight to a large dining area, the kind you'd expect mortals to have giant family meals at for holidays, with space for tray after tray of food and drink. At the table now, however there only sat two old women. One wore a dress of dark woodland colors, a blend of browns, creams, and black. Her features were long and her nose stood out from her face like a hook. Her steely gray hair pulled tight away from her wrinkled face in a neat bun. Despite her naturally severe appearance, her laugh rang out through the small house, brightening it like sunshine itself.
"Wheesht, Alanna!" she clucked. "There you go again, blethering about the old days."
Petra then, I assumed.
The woman across from her, Alanna, was more stout and hunched over than her friend – no doubt a back problem earned by a lifetime of bending over cradles and hoisting up toddlers – and had more roundness to her face, giving her an ever so slightly younger appearance, though her fine nest of white hair and a lifetimes worth of smile lines betrayed her. She was dressed in similarly comfortable clothes as her friend, but in deep wine colors, their rich hues bringing out the healthy pink undertone in her skin. She was the very picture of friendliness.
She smiled somewhat sadly at her friend. "I was actually a wee bit jealous of you back then, Petra." she admitted.
Uncomfortable with my potential to eavesdrop, I exaggeratedly cleared my throat to ensure the sound would meet their ears as I approached the table. The women turned to face me with mild surprise.
"Och, we've company! Welcome, welcome!" Petra said, gesturing to a stool set on the far side of the table. "Sit, sit, how can I help you, young lady?" she asked.
I was momentarily taken aback by their immediate hospitality, and awkwardly found myself siting between the two of them as they both got up and fussed about the place fetching me a drink and some bread and making sure the fire was going just so and finding an appropriate place mat for guests. It was the sort of cooing over people I had heard of before but had yet to truly experience. Sure Erinn was a hyper-competent worrywart, but her fuss came with a great deal of well-meaning nag; a steep price to pay when your very purpose consistently puts you in harms way. I liked to think Celestrians would devote themselves to the same level of dedication and attention to detail as these ladies, but with no need for comfort, sleep, or food, and with everyone living in the exact same place with the same furnishings and resources available to them, there was little to offer in the way of hospitality at the Observatory.
That thought sent a small pang through my heart as I was welcomed here so thoroughly.
After I had been spoiled to a satisfactory level, the two elderly women finally allowed me to talk and explain why I had even shown up in the first place.
Alanna's eyes widened as I explained. "Aye, that's right. I used to look after Princess Simona. Feels like ages ago. Why do you ask?"
I answered between sips of sweet, warm milk Petra had prepared for me, enjoying the notes of cinnamon and vanilla more than I had expected to. "Well, I recently met with the Princess, and she had told me about a special nursery rhyme you would sing to her." I said, taking another generous pull from my drink. "She insisted I find you and hear it."
Both women looked across the table at one another, smiles playing across their lips.
"Well, I can't deny a request like that now, can I?" she said, the lines around her eyes deepening as she grinned at her friend. "You'll sing along with me, won't you, Petra?"
"The Right Knight ditty? Aye, I could sing that in my sleep." she said proudly. With a quick sip of her cider and a clearing of her throat, she broke out into song, "Giddy up, giddy up, and away he goes!" she sang, her voice bright and clear, like birdsong on a sunny day.
Petra began to whistle as Alanna started slapping the table between us to the beat, picking up where her friend left off. "The Right Knight sets off on his steed, in search of evil he rides.
If he can defeat the terrible beast, he'll be home to wed his bride.
The town is full of laughter, preparing a feast fit for a queen." she crooned, picking up the whistling.
"Och! But then disaster! The Right Knight's nowhere to be seen!" Petra cried.
"Bird, north, Brigadoomward on, tell her that her knight is gone." Alanna answered.
"Bird, north, Briagdoonward on, tell her that her knight is gooooone!" the two women sang in harmony, rapping their knuckles against the wood in a rolling drumbeat.
The two of them dipped their heads slightly in a bow as I excitedly applauded their performance. For the first time since I'd been in the mortal realm, I finally experienced what being a minstrel would actually entail, and it was positively enthralling.
"Well, that's the song, dearie. I hope it was to your liking." Alanna giggled.
I nodded my head eagerly. "Oh, yes, quite! It's not at all what I would expect out of a nursery rhyme." I admitted.
Petra threw her head back with laughter. "Oh, well we have put a mite bit of sauce on the performance over the years." she explained. "Alanna keeps it a bit more gentle sounding for the wee ones."
"Yes but that's never as fun as putting on a show with your friend after a day of spirits and old stories." Alanna winked. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but did you really travel all this way just to hear an old lady sing?" she asked.
I tilted my head as I gave a light shrug. "Yes and no, if you want the truth. I'm actually very interested in locating Brigadoom, I heard this song might help me get a step closer."
"Och, so you want to find Brigadoom, do you?" she asked, leaning back comfortably in her seat. "In that case, I'd pay attention to the part about the bird flying north. It's a ditty that originated around these parts, so perhaps you try heading north from here yourself and see what you can find?" she offered, turning towards Petra for affirmation.
Petra nodded sagely. "The song tells the story of a princess waiting for her beloved knight, who has set out from the castle to defeat an evil monster. The knight never returns, and the two lovers are doomed never to be together again for all eternity." she explained. "I've heard tell that it was a true story and not just some legend, though it's a sad and sorry tale if that's the case."
I thought about the skeleton within the armor that was the Wight Knight, and his desperate search for his homeland, and his bride. The joy and energy I had felt from the song drained from me like someone pulling a stopper out of a full bath.
I thanked the two ladies profusely for entertaining such an odd request from a stranger, and for all the generosity they had shown. Even then, Petra wouldn't let me leave without a copy of her sweet milk recipe, anyway.
Tucking that little treasure into my pocket as I left, I called out to Riordan. "Pack your bags, kiddo, we've got a lead!"
I saw his mess of fiery red curls first as he shot up from where he was lying in the grass, near the small headstone nearby. "I've already got everything I own on me! Let's get out of here." he said, his voice a little hoarse.
I noted how pink and watery his eyes looked, how swollen his face was. He'd been crying about something.
"Ah. We still need to do something with that book first. But maybe I'll just do that myself. . ." I offered, debating whether or not to address the state he was in.
"And what book might that be?" a deep, feminine voice asked.
I turned slowly, already knowing who would be standing behind me.
Cerys Pelleas stood almost eye to eye, with one hand pressed to her hip, and a smile splayed across her face that was anything but friendly. "I wasn't aware of any libraries in town; however did you manage to pick up a new read?" she asked, sarcasm dripping off her words like acid.
I gulped.
Riordan quickly put himself between us, jerking the tome sticking out from my bag and offering it to the woman. "Awesome, you saved us a trip back to the inn!" he said with a put-on sense of relief. "Thank goodness you were still in town, I think you dropped this."
Cerys' frozen stare didn't leave mine for a second as she snatched the journal from him. "Yes, thank goodness. I'd hate to think what might happen if something like this fell into the wrong hands." she said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Did. . . did she think I was the ne'er-do-well of the duo?
"I doubt anyone but someone of your caliber would be able to utilize it" I said, fighting my tongue to keep from stammering. "Surely such academics wouldn't be unscrupulous enough to misuse it."
"You obviously haven't met many academics." she snorted.
"I really haven't!" I said with all earnestness.
"Yep yep, well, we really oughta get going now." Riordan cut in, tugging me away.
Cerys caught the boy by the collar, her painted nails gripping into the fabric like a vice. "Ah-ah, I don't think so." she clucked. "I'm dying to know where you found such a precious thing of mine, I'd hate to make the same mistakes and lose it again." she offered sweetly.
Riordan shook.
She tightened her grip. "And truly, I think some kind of reward is in order for your heroism. Please, allow me to give you exactly what you've earned. . ." she growled, the saccharine tone bleeding out from her voice.
I firmly gripped the woman's wrist and dug my fingers into her tendons, involuntarily forcing her to release the boy. "That's enough of that." I said, pushing him away from me and towards the stairs. "I'll meet you at the entrance."
The boys wide eyes shifted quickly from me to the mage and back again until giving me a tight little nod and shooting off towards the top of the hill.
Cerys' silvery eyes were lidded to slivers as she spoke. "Un. Hand. Me." she commanded, her naturally warm voice now a chilling monotone.
She made no effort to resist my grip or attack me, but I could tell by her near inhuman stillness she was coiled tight like a snake, prepared to go for the throat. I bore back at her with a stare of my own for a second before gently, slowly, releasing my grasp.
Her eyes never left mine as she gave her wrist a little shake, then rubbed at it with her other hand.
"I wouldn't have expected a witch to know grasping techniques." the woman said. "I guess I should study a little more hand to hand combat myself."
"Witch?" I asked. "What on earth would give you the very wrong impression I know enough magic to qualify as a 'witch'?"
"Stop playing dumb with me." she sneered. "I can sense it all over you. You don't just know magic, you are magic. Sure not everyone is in-tune enough to feel it, but you can't hide what you are from me."
My heart fluttered around my chest, my blood replaced by ice. "No. No you misunderstand-"
"-Not likely." she practically yelled over top of me, my voice failing to find its proper volume, instead mushing around my lungs, stopping my breath. "The potion I gave you only further proves it. No mortal person could ever have enough magical power to heal near instantly with something like that. Give it up."
My mind was racing. I had so many objections to her theory that they seemed to pile up in my brain and stop short of my mouth. I could feel my jaw moving, trying to articulate just how wrong she had me, but it was little use.
Cerys' lips parted in a dazzling, self-satisfied smile. "This is going easier than I thought. I was expecting the witch behind all this mess to at least put up a bit more of a fight." she said to herself. "Alright, you're going to release your thrall over that boy and the others or else I magically puncture a few extra holes in you, sound fair?"
"Hardly." I managed through clenched teeth.
She shrugged. "Have it your-"
"-S-somebody help me!" A panicky voice cried out from somewhere behind us.
I swung my gaze behind my shoulder, barely able to make out some commotion near the town square.
"Al-Alta!" Riordan's familiar voice shouted soon after.
I shot a glance towards the nearby stairs and cursed. "That'll take too long." I lamented.
Cerys quickly jogged past me and towards the river separating our location from the rest of the town. As she reached the waters edge she knelt down, spreading her hands wide against the water. I could hear a low murmuring sound for a short moment before a loud series of cracks. As she stood, I saw that a portion of the water's surface had frozen over into a small makeshift bridge of ice.
"Hurry up, and stay where I can see you." the wizard commanded as she gracefully bounded across her magical bridge and onward to the source of the ruckus.
I ran full tilt after her, nearly sailing straight into the river as my feet slid across the ice like a baby fawn taking its first steps. It took me longer than I'd care to admit, but I finally scrambled across on all fours, finding my feet once on dry land again.
I could see people fleeing the town square, many towards the inn as I muscled past them. In the midst of the chaos I saw four figures, all but one familiar. A young blonde man I did not know, but surely the person who had originally cried out, judging by the way he was shaking. Cerys, her arms crossed under her chest, standing furthest away from the others, watching intently. Riordan, fists clenched as he stared up at the figure in front of him, and finally, the Wight Knight himself, in all his spooky splendor. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I approached them.
"Why does everyone run from me? I just want to talk. I mean no one any harm." the Wight Knight asked sadly, his deep, disembodied voice reverberating from under his helmet unnaturally.
Riordan scowled up at the man as best he could. "Maybe you should be on a search for a mirror first; you're super creepy looking, dude." he accused. "Haven't you already learned you can't go galloping into towns like this?"
"Y-yeah! And dinnae lie! I saw that witch in the woods out lookin' for ye, so I did!" the blonde man said, his voice quavering. "A real piece o' work, she was, red eyes a-blazin' an' all! Asked me if I'd seen her slave, the Wight Knight, so she did! That's you, I'd wager."
Everyone present spun towards the man.
"A witch!?"
"Red eyes, you say?"
"When did this happen – no – where did this happen!?"
We all began asking him questions in concert, the young mans terror intensifying across his face as he found himself cornered.
The Wight Knights horse whinnied in that same, unpleasantly echoing way it did when we fought him, quickly silencing the lot of us.
"Do I look like a witch's slave to any of you? I've never heard anything so ridiculous! Altairis," he said, turning his gaze towards me. "I am surprised to see you and your young protege again, what brings you here?"
I explained, with some surly interjection from Riordan, how we had come here looking for more information on his home of Brigadoom.
The knight bowed his head deeply towards us. "I thank you for your efforts, you really didn't need to go to such trouble on my account. So. . . were you able to learn anything?" he asked hesitantly.
"Uh." I replied eloquently. "I suppose it's best I just let you hear it. . ." I said as I shuffled my feet against the stone ground.
"Hear?" the knight asked, confused.
I cleared my throat and closed my eyes, ignoring the heat I felt creeping up my neck and into my cheeks as I began to sing the Right Knight Ditty I had learned earlier.
Singing was. . . not something Celestrians do. As pleasant as I dare say our voices all are, song just wasn't a part of our culture, instead we prayed. We did little but pray and work, really. And as I sung, I realized what a joy it must be to live in a society that encourages such skill. A skill I found myself sadly quite lacking.
My lilting voice quivered and trembled over the words, never hitting the mark as I thought I could. Still, I soldiered on and finished, my hands clapping to the beat the entire way. I opened my eyes once I was done, only to be met with four different stares ranging from amusement to stunned silence. Just as the creeping quiet grew awkward, the blonde man clapped softly.
"Woo." he offered.
I raked my hands down my face. "Right. Uh, thank you. That's all I found out."
The Wight Knights voice came to my ears softly. "Ah, yes, thank you for. . . sharing." he said. "They did call me the Right Knight back in Brigadoom, this is true, but surely I am not just the figment of a storyteller's imagination? Why would anyone be singing such a thing?" he asked.
"They really shouldn't be, judging by that performance. . ." Riordan muttered, his face still frozen in horror.
"Look, I think the important part was the direction. The lady told me this song originated in this area, so if we were to go northward, perhaps we would find something." I explained.
The Wight Knight ran a gauntlet-clad hand over his bony chin. "Bird, north, Brigadoomward on." he jerked at the reins of his steed and spun away from us. "Then I suppose there's nothing for it but to follow the bird's example. Northward ho!" he cried as he rode off out of the town and quickly out of sight.
A chorus of sighs escaped us once he was gone, and we all turned toward each other.
"So. . ." I said.
"So." Replied Riordan.
"Indeed." Cerys supplied.
"Auughhhhh!" The young man with us cried as he fell into a heap of stress.
"Ah, yes, you." Cerys said, frowning down at the man. "I must know, what you said before about the witch, was that the truth?" she asked, her voice flat and serious.
He blew out a slow breath as he calmed himself down, then stared up at the woman nervously. "It's the truth, I swear tae ye! I met some scary witch-like besom in the woods right before I came back here today, she was lookin' for that Wight Knight character." he pleaded. "I told her I knew nothin' aboot him, and she awayed an' flew off intae the sky! Ye hae tae believe me!"
Cerys raised one graceful hand to dismiss his blubbering, and turned to me. "I am willing to admit that between this mans testimony and the way the knight reacted to you, I could be wrong in my assertions." she said matter-of-factly.
"Is that an apology or. . .?" I asked.
Riordan looked back and forth between us. "Assertions? What is she talking about?"
"She thought I was the witch pulling the Wight Knights strings, oh, and that you were under my thraaaaaaallll." I replied, wiggling my fingers menacingly at the boys head.
He slapped them away. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Riordan looked Cerys dead in the eyes. "You are the stupidest thing."
The mage gave him a chilling smile. "Oh? If I pluck your brain out through your dirty little ears, I wonder if that will still be true. . ." she said, tapping her long nails against her chin idly.
The boy paled and took half a step back. "Er, seriously though, how could you think Alta is a witch? She's like. . ." the boy looked me up and down in confusion for a moment, "She's like, complete rubbish?" he finally said.
"Wow." I replied.
He shrugged in mild apology. "I'm just saying, a witch would be like. . . spooky and mysterious and really good at magic like uh, you?" he said, gesturing towards Cerys.
Her face twisted between anger and amusement for a moment before simply asking, "What?"
Riordan and I glanced aside a one another, then back at the disarmingly beautiful woman in front of us.
"I kind of thought you may have been the force behind what was going on with the knight, to be honest." I admitted.
Riordan nodded sagely. "Oh yeah, super sketchy."
Cerys pinched the bridge of nose and shook her head. "We have all jumped to wrong conclusions then."
"Nah, you're still sketchy." Riordan corrected.
Cerys glanced at me. "Are you under his thrall by any chance? How else do you put up with him?"
Riordan's mouth opened in protest, and as it did I clamped my hand over it. "Look. It doesn't matter. Riordan and I need to head north, the sooner the better. You have your book back and have no need to hold us up any longer." I took my palm off the boys mouth. "Let's go."
"Wait." Cerys said, one finger outstretched towards me. "There was one thing I am certain I did not get wrong, and that's what I said about you earlier."
My heart began pulsing awkwardly. ". . .And what do you mean to do about it?" I asked quietly, my hands beginning to clench into fists.
Cerys' meticulously painted lips parted into what might have been the first genuine smile I'd seen her make, the near imperceptible lines around her mouth and eyes deepened, lighting her expression up from within. "Oh dear, I'm not threatening you this time." she purred. "I'm going to study you and find out each and every one of your secrets." she said, her smooth voice practically vibrating with excitement.
I blinked. "You. You're going to follow me around then?" I asked, unsure where she was going with this.
Cerys patted the fine leather satchel slung across her hip. "Got everything I need here now that my book has been returned. We're going north, yes? Should be a long walk, plenty of time to ask you about your life. . ." she said, striding past us. "Chop chop, don't want to keep our poor knight waiting!"
Riordan and I stood in silence as she left the town, whistling and twirling a small wand between her fingers.
"What did you do?" Riordan demanded.
I grimaced. "I uh, look, she just has ideas about me."
"Ideas? Ideas like what!? This lady is crazy town in a pretty package and I'm too young for my remains to be found in a swamp somewhere!" he exclaimed.
I groaned, unsure how to explain to him why she thought I wasn't human, and how right she was.
"Are you sure you're not mad because it won't be just the two of us anymore?" I teased, trying to change the subject.
It worked.
"What!? Oh come on, gross, you're like 50." he replied. "Imagine, a grown adult flirting with a kid, ugh."
I did a little math in my head and smiled, the kid had still come up a little short. "You realize Princess Simona is still too old for you too, right?" I prodded.
"Gah! She'll wait for me! I know it." he said, his face growing pink. "Ju-just shut up, argh! We have a job to do, seriously, get your head together. I swear. . ." Riordan ranted as he stormed away from me and after our new traveling companion.
I was smiling, but it faded as easily as it had come. What was it I was so afraid of? Mortal rejection? It shouldn't have mattered, they shouldn't have mattered so much. It was my job to look after them, not be their friend. That message had been taught to me for years from my fellows. And yet. . . when I thought of how Ivor still accepted me – in his own caustic way – of how much kindness Erinn had always shown me since I fell, even the ladies of this town welcoming me in their home and sending me away with a meal and a song. . . I couldn't help but want to be friends. To have a connection. Something in them called out to me and I found myself craving it.
I didn't want the thing I was to get in the way of the things I wanted.
With a heavy heart, I left Zere.