Chapter Eleven
The woman mistook my hesitation for nerves.
“You’re not from the city,” she prompted. My fingers twitched. The air was thick and still, laced with the bitterness of herbs. I started to feel stifled, wanting the not-so-fragrant city air.
“Look, I can help you,” the woman muttered, turning her attention to more important things. I swallowed the lump in my throat. The goddess had sent me here, and you didn’t disobey a goddess. There was a reason I was here.
“My name’s Siofra,” I blurted. That was it. I couldn’t take back my words now. “I grew up in the forest. I can...understand nature…” There was simply no better way to put it.
The woman’s back straightened and she stopped fussing over the pot hung in the fireplace. Turning slowly, I could see the stretch of her lips before I saw the grin. Her arms extended and she pulled me into a hug. My face squished against her chest and the remaining breath was knocked out of me.
Slightly winded, I pulled away.
The woman stepped back and stood tall. As I watched, she began to fade. Not all of her, just the top layer of her skin and clothes seemed to gradually turn translucent, revealing another person beneath. Where her hair had been white and dry, now auburn tresses hung to her waist. The wrinkles faded to reveal a heart-shaped face, pure white and smooth.
The green of her eyes began to shimmer, becoming brighter and more brilliant. Unable to take their intensity, I flicked my gaze away. The ears. Pointing out from behind the thick tresses, I saw the tell-tale point.
“I knew who you were. I’m Ainesilver. Nice to meet you Siofra.”
A short while later and we were both sat on weary chairs by the fire. Curls of steam rose from the clay cup I held in my hand. Heat suffused through the pads of my fingers, into my hands and down the length of my arm. I had no idea what I was drinking; it was some sort of citrus-smelling leaf, crushed into a powder and topped with hot water, thick honey, and cinnamon swirled into it. Whatever it was, it was slowly edging away some of the clinging tiredness that had begun to dog me.
“How come you’re here, doing this?” I asked.
Ainesilver let out a long sigh.
“I, am like you, different...the old king once tolerated us. Man, woman, beast and fey all lived together. It wasn’t odd to find a fairy measuring cloth for a gown, a minotaur hammering metal for a sword. But the king had a curse placed on him. By who and why is still unknown but he died a madman. His son took this as a sign and placed a ban on any creature not from this world. He placed martial law on the city. If anyone saw you, you’d be hung or burnt.”
I touched a hand to my birthmark and shifted my twisted foot.
“Me, he’d have me tortured, and worse...then cast me out into the forest. My folk fled long ago.”
“Why did you not go with them?”
The elf let a slow smile form on her face. “There was someone who stayed my heart. He has since gone…stabbed in an alley for money.” A shadow flickered over her features. My mind whirred as I tried to figure out who sat before me. If she had been alive when the old king ruled, a king I had heard about in the history books, and the current king approaching sixty, then she must be at least eighty years old...likely more.
“Now,” she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “What’s your story?”
I had felt at ease with this woman, until now. A spark of mistrust flared, whether from my own conscious or from something more evident, I couldn’t tell. She knew a lot about me already...but she didn’t need to know everything. There had been no spark of malice in her tale of kings, nothing that made me believe I had an ally for my dark deeds. My lips started to move and my speech was ever so slightly stilted.
“I want to learn the arts. My mother taught me a lot, but there’s not many patients out in the forest. There’s also a boy...a nymph...who has caught my eye.”
There was no blush to backup my story but minimal eye contact and a coy smile seemed to do the trick.
“Well, I cannot guarantee coin, but I certainly have a bed here for you.” She gestured to a relatively empty corner, the empty space in all this clutter. I had hoped for a space above, a small ladder hugged the wall to my left, but I supposed these to belong to my new companion. “And as much as I don’t believe in the unnatural to steal a man’s heart, I know the feeling when you hold it.”
I nearly asked whether she visited the castle much but shut my mouth. Now was not the time. I had a bed, I would be fed and I could only grow stronger under her tutoring. Master of disguise as she was, she would also be able to hide me from myself.
“But first,” she gestured at my birthmark. My face had considerably warmed whilst we sat by the fire and I could feel the mud had melted off. I watched as she bustled about her kitchen. I sat entranced; I had always found it fascinating to watch another apothecary at work. Till now, it had been Ysymay but I started to notice differences. For a start, Ysymay had been a cautious apothecary - sniffing the jars to make sure the leaves and potions were still usable, measuring out exact portions, and grinding slowly. Ainesilver was more...liberal. She was staring at the various pots and boxes, muttering to herself, hesitating and then grabbing them off the shelves. There was no portioning, just a whole concoction of liquids, paste, and the lot.
Fed up with sitting, I stood and moved over to her. Her eyes fell on my lolloping gait. Whatever else, Ainesilver had not forgotten about that…
“Here,” a pot was shoved in my face. I glared at the glossy pink paste. I sniffed slowly. There was a scent of rose, of lavender and then the slightly more rancid undertone of fat. I was used to all sorts, so I dipped my finger in, taking a large dollop, and smearing it over the estimated location of the birthmark. I hadn’t got very far when the elf snatched the pot from me shaking her head.
“No. You only need a little. Here.” She began to smooth the moisture over my face. With her soft hands and the soothing coolness of the balm, I began to trust her. I had no idea what I would end up looking like, but with a birthmark the size of a mouse down my face, I couldn’t complain.
Finally, Ainesilver stepped back and smiled. “Better.”
I shrugged my shoulders. I guessed I had to take her word for it then. Reading my thoughts, she moved to a cabinet buried under a pile of papers and bottles. With a considerable amount of noise, she threw everything around, emerging with a triumphant ‘aha’. Brandishing a square piece of glass set in a dirty but once ornate frame, she shoved it into my face.
Taking a moment, I bought it up. My breath stopped for a moment.
Staring back was a girl I did not recognise. She had the same dark eyes fringed with long lashes and the same slightly snub nose. She was thin, her cheekbones prominent. But it was the absence of her birthmark that completely transformed this young woman. All my life, I had been accustomed to the presence of that disfigurement...but now, it looked like someone had simply wiped it away. My skin, never clear at the best of time, was dewy and flawless.
Whatever magic Ainesilver had, it was stronger than mine.
“I think you can show your face now,” she smiled down at me. Her eyes kept going down until they rested on my out-turned foot. In the light from the fire, I flinched. It looked broken and gnarled. It was hard to tell where the dirt ended and the bruising began. I had numbed myself to the shooting pains over the last few days. Now, it was just a dull ache that I acknowledged at the back of my mind.
In a movement that brought me back to the one-room cottage and Ysmay, Ainesilver pushed me back into the chair and pulled a stool out from under the table. She plunked my foot on it unceremoniously and I twisted my teeth into a snarl.
There was the banging and clattering I supposed I’d have to get used to. The elf remerged clutching familiar items that made my heart sink. Two rods - metal this time, there was an improvement if nothing else, and some strands of what appeared to be wicked-looking wire.
“Oh no, I wouldn’t put this directly against your skin,” she admonished. She pulled a layer of cloth out from somewhere, supple and shining, and began to weave it around the small rods. Satisfied, she pulled down some fine material and began weaving it over, so that it looked like frost.
She clamped the contractions down either side of my ankle and used the same material to bind it all together. I peered down at the material, my finger itching to touch the strands. A sharp slap sent my finger darting away.
“This comes from the wispmothers. Creatures as small as a spider but as fast as lightning. Spiders borrow their strands from them, turning it into nature’s art. Thinner than a strand of hair but as strong as a rope.”
I gazed down in awe as the final knots were made. Wiggling my foot, I gauged the new crib. There were no sharp shards of wood digging in. If I ran, splinters wouldn’t embed themselves deep into my leg. I grinned. This was a splint I would want to keep on.
“It won’t heal you, but it will help you feel and look more like a lady. Now,” Ainesilver stood up with a yawn. “Some food and sleep and then we can discuss what you can do when you’re here.”
I nodded. The thought of having a roof over my head and the presence of another being engulfed me in a wave.
After shovelling a hunk of bread and cheese, complete with a mug of mead, I gratefully crawled onto the palette Ainesilver had set up for me in the corner of the room. I sensed that upstairs was her own place, a place I didn’t dare venture. Well, not whilst she was around anyway.
I pulled the pile of blankets around me, and closed my eyes, revelling in the steady warmth the embers of the fire pulsed out. My eyes grew heavier and heavier. It wasn’t home but it was haven.
I woke to the melody of...banging. Inwardly groaning, I saw Ainesilver bending over a small pot hung above the fire. The smell of oats and milk set my tummy muttering. Hearing the strange commotion, Ainesilver turned towards me, nodding her head. I barely had time to lever myself into sitting position before she cleared a space on the table with her forearm and slammed down a wooden bowl and spoon. A wave of porridge sploshed out onto the table. With a small shrug, she ran her finger through it so a smear of the table came through.
I tucked in, memories of those rare days when I had sat on a stool with Ysmay outside, talking over breakfast. But Ainesilver had put a sweet spice in hers, which diffused through my body as the food went down.
As I ate, Ainesilver moved around, rummaging through pots and bottles and throwing them in a leather bag. I winced as the bottles cracked against each other; a very different approach to Ysymay’s careful folding.
“Where are you off to?” I asked, catching the stodgy remnants of my bowl with my spoon.
“Doing the rounds and then I need to get some supplies beyond the gates.” She paused in her whirlwind of activity and looked me dead in the eyes. I felt a pulse of adrenaline. After we had gone to bed last night, I heard the creak of the bed above as the occupant tossed and turned. “In return for bed and lodging, you can work as my apprentice. I need someone to help with the town. Take as long as you need.” Ainesilver turned away, but I heard her mutter, “I wish I had had someone to show me the way.”
I felt fire shoot through my veins. I tried to keep my face neutral, despite the muscles fighting to release a smile. I hesitated before letting the words slip out.
“And do you ever deal with those in the castle?” I wiped my sweaty palms on my lap, hoping Ainesilver hadn’t noticed the small movement.
I noticed her body tense for a moment but she resumed her packing. Her back remained turned so I couldn’t see the expression that crossed her face.
“I just want to see it,” I babbled. “Growing up in the forest..”
My companion turned, dumping a final load into the bag. Her mouth curved into a wistful smile. “Yes, I go twice a week. They don’t trust me still...but they know I keep them fit and healthy.”
I nodded and stood up.
Ainesilver looked me up and down, then up and down again. “We’ve got to get you something better to wear…”