Aidan
The day’s light gave way to night, and Aidan found himself no more certain of where he was or how he had arrived there exactly. Three things he did know of his situation, and those he had trouble accepting. Firstly, something was wrong with his traveling companion, Slaíne. She had remained unconscious from the moment they had rematerialized from Nothingness, the land between the living and the magical dead, waking only once to ask where she was. He couldn’t even give her that.
Aidan raked a hand through his dark hair and continued pacing in front of the iron-barred window. The second thing he knew of their plight was that they were both captives of a wizard who called himself ‘Hex’. Hex had materialized moments after Slaíne’s collapse. He sent her ahead by some mysterious means before he took Aidan through a strange white portal that opened midair. Where the wizard was now, Aidan hadn’t any idea. His Pull, the sense Aidan had of a person’s or object’s presence, had disappeared or changed somehow.
He looked at the door, as if that would force the being to return. Pacing was getting Aidan nowhere, so he stopped and sank to the floor, clutching his sore head in his hands.
Finally, the third and most unnerving of the facts Aidan repeated to himself, was that he had begun to hear a woman’s voice in his head – only, no one else was in the room with him besides Slaíne, who was asleep. Granted, he had heard voices in his head before, such as the strange man Salem, who possessed the ability to inhabit Aidan’s mind and take over his body from time to time. Salem was among the magical dead in the land called the Beyond, with which Aidan had a connection he couldn’t explain. In the land of the living, there was Meraude, the mage, who had interrupted his dreams but had remained suspiciously silent since Aidan was stabbed by the nymph queen’s ice blade. Meraude wanted all magic-kind dead and would use the Goblets Immortal to see to it, if Aidan didn’t stop her in time. He tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present. The voice speaking to him now was different than Meraude’s and Salem’s; it was ancient.
Aidan…Aidan…Aidan….
Smashing his hands over his ears, Aidan let out a growl of frustration. If only that miserable wizard would return so Aidan could have something to do with his fists, though he knew a mere Blest such as himself would be no match for a being such as that. His own power was, after all, derived from a single wizard’s array of abilities, as were all powers gained through a Goblet Immortal. From what he knew, there were five Goblets Immortal, magical vessels that gave their imbibers different abilities, and together immortality and great power. Whoever drank from the Drifting Goblet gained flight for a time, until the water left their body. If a woman drank of a Goblet when she was with child, her offspring would be known as a Blest and would have a magical ability for the remainder of their days. Maybe he and Slaíne, whose mother must have drunk from the Drifting Goblet, could fight the wizard together…if only she would wake.
The sun had sunk in its entirety now, and a night-crow let out its mournful shriek. This would not do, sitting on the floor and waiting. Aidan needed to do something. Anything. He pulled himself to his feet and approached the bed where Slaíne lay.
“Can you hear me?” Aidan asked, pressing a hand to her forehead. She was cold. Far too cold. Aidan looked not for the first time for means to start a fire. There was a great fireplace, but no wood, no kit, no tinder, nothing he could use. Again he tried finding his cache in Nothingness, the magical place objects disappeared to when Aidan Dismissed them. It was there, but when he tried reaching for it with his mind, his thoughts overshot it and he caught brief visions of the Beyond. Why had his ability to make objects disappear and reappear chosen now to change? He kicked at the wall and gave a shout of frustration.
That was when a fire burst to life in the fireplace.
Aidan leapt away. “What the devil?” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and dread clenched his stomach as he stared at the green flames licking at the grate. The wizard must be near at hand, to have conjured a blaze such as this. Trembling with the need to act, Aidan reached for the iron fire poker and was surprised to find the metal nowhere near as repulsive as it might have been once upon a time. In the past, iron had always felt wrong to handle. It interfered with Aidan’s magic, and he could neither Dismiss it – make it disappear into Nothingness – nor use any of his magical abilities on it. Silently, he prodded curtains, looked behind tapestries, and even peered inside the great wardrobe at the east end of the room. There was no one there, just him and Slaíne.
He felt the Pull a mere second before the wizard spoke. “Those are interesting flames.” Before Aidan could lash out with the poker, it vanished from his hands and reappeared by the hearth, causing him to jump. “I know you have a lot of questions,” Hex said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry I left you both alone for so long. I was dealing with…the aviary.” His shoulders sagged, and Aidan noted shadows like bruises beneath his eyes. “If a person’s angry enough, the transfiguration reversal process becomes very difficult.”
“Where are we? She’s—”
“Slaíne is going to be all right.” The wizard motioned for Aidan to follow him to the door. “She’ll probably be unconscious for the next few days.” Hex shook his head. “It must be quite a shock.”
Aidan opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about and demand to be released at once, but the wizard walked through the solid door and disappeared. After a moment, he returned the same way, wearing a look of confusion on his face before smirking. “Oh, right. Curses. You can’t….” Hex laughed and pulled the door open like a normal human, then motioned for Aidan to follow. “She is perfectly safe where she is, Aidan.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Aidan demanded, still unwilling to leave his traveling companion at her most defenseless. She may no longer be cursed – something that had been done to her as a child and had prevented her from being away from whomever she called master – but that didn’t mean she was safe.
Hex snapped his fingers, and at once they were no longer standing in the bedchamber but found themselves before a red fire burning bright and smokeless in a circular pit. The white brick room was vast, with windows reaching from floor to ceiling, and though it was dark outside, Aidan could hear and smell the roar of the salty sea.
Startled, Aidan nearly stumbled into the blaze, which spat green sparks at him as he righted himself. “What—”
“Maybe we should be seated for this.” Hex waved his hand, and a chair materialized behind Aidan, knocking into his knees so that he fell backward into it. The wizard took his seat more gracefully. “Right. You wanted to know where you are. This is Vät Vanlud.”
Aidan’s shoulder prickled with cold, and he could hear the faint voice of Salem shouting, but could not decipher the words. Salem always chose the wrong times to attempt to contact him from the Beyond. He had been doing it for weeks now through their peculiar mental connection. Aidan couldn’t remain too angry with him, however; Salem had saved him from Lord Dewhurst, Aidan’s nemesis, by inhabiting his body temporarily, after all. “Vät Vanlud,” Aidan repeated, pushing the voice of his inner friend aside. “What does that mean?”
“The House of Curses.” Hex gestured around vaguely, sending a rainbow of sparks flying from his fingertips. At once the walls around them disappeared and it was as though he and Aidan had been transported to a sheer black cliff overlooking a raging green sea. “The island we’re on – Trys Lanludd – is unreachable.” He gave Aidan a meaningful look. “No one can come or leave here without my help.” Perhaps sensing Aidan’s growing unease, the wizard waved his hands again, and the walls reappeared. “Now, you must wonder how I know who you are.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, shook his head, and said, “I keep an ear to the ground for trouble in the land. When I heard your name and what you might be up to, I sent out one of my servants and had you followed. As for the why and how, that is really a question to answer when Slaíne’s awake, I fear.” He gave Aidan a curious look, one that the latter did not care for in the least. It was a look of expectation and resignation, as though the wizard were waiting for Aidan to burst into flames so that he might extinguish them. After a moment, the look passed, and Aidan found himself regathering his wits.
Anger at being taken against his will bubbled hard in Aidan’s veins. But he knew he must tread carefully with the wizard if he wanted to get out of this mess alive. “Who are you exactly?” he asked, his tone flat and brittle.
Hex seemed to consider this as he sat there and rubbed his bare chin. “You were expecting someone ancient-looking, with a long, tangled beard, I suppose.”
Aidan did not dignify that with a response.
Hex chuckled. “I am the third of the Seven Great Wizards to once rule the Saime, what now is mostly wilderness and wasteland. It was once one nation, but now I see it divided.” The wizard flicked a finger and a long reed pipe appeared in his tanned hands. Out of the tip of his pointing finger he produced a red flame, which he placed inside the bowl of his pipe, and began to puff meditatively.
A chill wriggled its way up Aidan’s back. This wizard was most likely the one who had aligned himself with the rest of magic-kind against the cruel and controlling wizards in the Great War – a war between wizards and the rest of magical kind – making him well over five hundred years old. It had to be him; only two wizards had survived the war, from what Aidan had learned. Aidan had already met the other wizard the day previous, and he was insane. But how could this man be over five-hundred? The other wizard had looked ancient. Hex looked Aidan’s age and not a day older.
Perhaps reading Aidan’s thoughts, as wizards of lore were wont to do, Hex said, “Do not look so surprised, Aidan Ingledark. Magic always comes with a price.” The smoke wafting from his pipe turned red and began to twist and writhe and form itself into strange shapes in the dim air. “The price I pay is immortality.” He laughed but it was without humor. His gaze roved back to Aidan. “You must be famished. I’m sorry I left you alone for so long, but as I said, she’s still fairly angry, and that makes this type of magic difficult.”
Aidan frowned. He did not know how to respond to this, had no idea what the wizard was going on about, so he leapt to his feet. “This is ridiculous. The longer we sit here, the more likely it is that Meraude is going to get what she wants.” From what Aidan understood, Meraude hated magical beings and wanted to assert herself as queen of everyone left after the dust of her conflict settled. Whether or not she had the allies to accomplish this remained to be seen.
Hex’s expression darkened. “That is not entirely true. There is no Questing Goblet, after all.”
The Questing Goblet, had it been made, would have given its imbiber luck beyond measure, and would have aided Aidan and Slaíne in their quest to destroy Meraude. If they could get their hands on the Seeing Goblet, they could look into the future and see the means to their revenge. Even the Summoning and Drifting Goblets might prove useful, though Aidan could not think of a good reason why at the moment.
“Yes, there is no Questing Goblet, but there are other Goblets to contend with.” It took all his strength not to scream at this strange, calm man. “What if she has the Warring Goblet? Then she will have the war she wishes for.”
But the wizard was shaking his head. “That is not how it works, Ingledark. I think you know that very well. You have, after all, imbibed from it.”
Aidan blinked. For a short time, less than a full day, he had possessed the magical vessel. Before knowing what it would do, Aidan had drunk from it, and the only effect it had had was to clear his mind. No wars had sprung up around him, which of course would have been ridiculous. He did not admit any of this to the wizard, however, but he knew Hex was aware of his thought. “All right, but if she has it, then she will have the mind of a great warrior. Will anyone be able to best her?”
For a moment, Hex’s eyes twinkled. “Meraude does not possess the Warring Goblet.” He held up his hand and began ticking off on his fingers. “Nor does she have the Drifting Goblet, as you well know. She doesn’t have foresight, and I believe she is too frightened to attempt to drink from the Seeing Goblet at the moment. The other Goblets, wherever they may be, are not your concern.”
Anger flashed through Aidan, clouding his thoughts. “You decide what my concerns are, do you?”
Hex let out a long sigh. “You need to calm down, Aidan. I know it’s hard. I was young once like you. Age will mellow your rage, but until then, it’s only going to hurt you and those you care about.”
Aidan was so furious he couldn’t move or speak but stared into the flames, which seemed to jump in reaction to his rage. He felt a cold blast of air, and he at first assumed one of the windows had blown open. But he was
wrong: the windows remained closed, and Hex was lowering his hand, tendrils of red wafting from his fingertips.
He gave Aidan a sympathetic look. “It’ll get easier.”
“What will get easier? Being held against my will?” The heat, however, had gone out of Aidan’s anger, and all he felt now was tired and empty.
The wizard’s eyebrows shot heavenward. “Interesting. I thought you knew. Forgive me.”
Before Aidan could ask Hex what he meant, a tray of food materialized before him. It was piled high with piping-hot mounds of roast beef, roasted carrots and red-skinned potatoes, green string beans, and baked apples with their skins melting tenderly off the browned and spiced flesh. As inviting as this all looked, Aidan could not bring himself to be much interested in consuming anything. He continued to stand.
Hex shook his head. “It won’t do you any good to stand there and brood, Ingledark. You can’t have eaten for a day at least.”
It was tempting to insist that he would eat when Slaíne was awake, but the wizard made an interesting proposition: “I know what you are thinking. But hear me out: nourish yourself, and I will show you a magic trick.”
Aidan bit down on a smirk. “Oh?”
“You think this was interesting?” The wizard gestured around him. “This was nothing to be impressed with. Sit, eat, and I will introduce you to some higher magic.” He waved his hand, and a fine yellow bird in a gilded cage appeared in midair. The poor little beast was squawking away, a sound Aidan had heard many an irate mother bird make to keep predators away from its nest. But the bird’s Pull was all wrong. It felt…suppressed.
The cage turned so the bird was now facing Aidan, and the creature’s squawking became a screech. As it went silent, the wizard shot a bolt of white light out of the tip of his pointing finger. The light hit the bird in the back, and the creature began to glow and then slowly grew in size, transforming from a tiny feathered beast in a cage to a woman with deep blue eyes that were in great contrast to her jet-black hair.
At once the wizard took a step back, not afraid, but apparently nervous.
When the woman opened her mouth, her voice sounded strained, as though she had been screaming for some time. “Where is Quick?” The words must have been directed at Hex, but the woman was looking at Aidan, apparently befuddled.
The fire in the pit began to jump again, its colors shifting slightly. Hex’s gaze traveled to Aidan, watchful again.
“Where is he?”
The wizard cleared his throat. “Jinn, your brother is in good health. Come, you’re distressing yourself for naught.”
“Where is he?” Still her eyes did not leave Aidan.
Hex snapped his fingers and another chair appeared, this one on the wizard’s right; like Aidan, the woman did not choose to sit. “Quick is sleeping off a feast in one of the guest rooms. He has wanted for nothing and is at perfect ease. You may see him shortly, once I’ve explained a few things.”
Aidan’s discomfort increased as the two continued to stare at him while they were talking to each other. What madness is this?
“I didn’t foresee— It’s dark. So dark.” She hiccupped, a sound bordering on a sob.
Shifting his weight, the wizard now looked at Jinn and frowned. “All shall be made known presently. For now…Jinn, allow me to introduce you to Aidan Ingledark. Aidan, this is Jinn. I thought, things being as they are, what with you both at last under the same roof, it would only be fitting for you to meet. There, be met.”
At this the woman paled and would not quite meet his eyes. “Why are you doing this?” At last she stopped staring at Aidan like he was some strange specimen and turned to the wizard. Anger radiated off of Jinn in waves, and Aidan almost imagined he could see it.
Aidan shook himself mentally. One could not see emotions, he was being fanciful, and he never had much of an imagination.
It was a sight, the slight woman confronting the wizard, who seemed ready to run from the room. If the circumstances had been different, Aidan might have sat back and watched the two verbally spar. As it was, he was in no mood to put up with small talk. He needed to know what the purpose of keeping him here was and when they would be released. “Wizard, I do not care what your quarrel is with this woman or even who this woman is. Tell me what Slaíne and I are doing here, or so help me….”
“That is a fair question,” Jinn said, clenching her small hands into fists. “You have no right to detain us, wizard.”
Hex shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He turned to Aidan. “And I think you will be very interested to know whom you share shelter with.”
The air was charged, and the woman seemed to shrink immediately, as if awaiting some fatal blow. “It’s – it’s not what it seems. Don’t listen to the wizard. You know they can’t be trusted.”
Now Aidan’s interest was piqued, even if only slightly. “Go on,” said he to Hex.
“This is Jinn, her brother is Quick, and they have been pursuing you for around a month now.” The wizard placed himself between Aidan and the young woman then, as if fearing what Aidan might do.
Aidan was confused. His attention focused on Jinn, and he found himself scratching at the stubble on his jaw. Pursuing him? Was she some reward-seeker, hoping to turn him in for a bounty? He was, after all, still a wanted man for supposedly killing Lord Dewhurst’s wife and child. Aidan’s eyes flickered to Hex, who shook his head, and then back to Jinn again. “Yes, I am a wanted man. But if you think you’ll be able to hand me and mine over for a bounty, you are sorely mistaken.”
Of all things, the young woman looked confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But maybe we can—”
Hex snapped his fingers, and Jinn disappeared. “Eat,” he commanded, and Aidan decided it would be best now to oblige. The wizard’s brow creased as they both took their seats, and the pipe that he had been holding earlier rematerialized in his large hands. “I turned her brother into a bird too.” Perhaps that explained why the young woman was so angry with him. “That’s right, you were there.” Hex puffed on his pipe and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as the pipe floated in the air. “You live so long, you remember so much, and the more you remember the more there is to forget. It’s quite maddening.”
“I’d imagine.”
The wizard frowned. “Eat,” he repeated, and Aidan ate, though hesitantly. The two of them sat and regarded the fire. “Jinn and her brother have been sent after you, Aidan. They are not two people you want to befriend.”
Aidan snorted. “And you are?”
That drew a low laugh from Hex. “No. I believe our goals are very different.” He puffed red smoke for a moment, his expression vacant. “If only I knew more.”
This would not do, the two of them sitting here, as if there were no greater worries in the world. Time was precious. Slaíne might wake up, find herself alone, and wonder if Aidan had abandoned her. “Why are we here?” he said after some time as he set the half-full plate aside. The wizard said nothing. “From what has been said, I believe you have both the Drifting and Warring Goblets. They are not yours.”
Hex’s hands tensed on his armrests. “And neither are they yours to take and do with as you see fit.”
“My goal is to—”
“Your goal is childish and petty,” said Hex, shaking his head. “You children and your quarrels.”
A mere quarrel? That was going too far. Aidan’s temper again uncoiled and rose to the surface. “Meraude had my parents murdered. You call avenging them petty and childish?”
“Bah.”
The fire sparked green and red, the flames clashing against each other, warring for mastery. “Meraude is killing my kind, Vex, or whatever your ridiculous name is. She needs to be stopped.” Both men were on their feet, standing head-to-head and toe-to-toe as the flames continued to dance. “You are heartless.” It was with those words that Aidan felt a tightening in his chest, as though some great invisible hand were attempting to squeeze his heart through his rib cage. The green went out of the fire, and Aidan swayed.
“Careful, sapling,” said Hex. “You would do well to remember not to question me and my motives here in the House of Curses.”
The pressure in Aidan’s chest released, and he collapsed, clutching the spot. “Meraude is—”
“Not your concern. I’ll send you back to your quarters now. I grow weary of you.” The wizard snapped his fingers, and the world glowed red as the room around Aidan dissolved.
With a none-too-gentle thud, he found himself back in the room with Slaíne, possessing more questions than answers.
* * *
Slaíne slept through the night, though Aidan attempted to rouse her at intervals. The green magic fire had gone out long ago. It was now an hour or so before the dawning, and he had given up hope of warming the room, but grabbed a blanket for himself and sat curled on the bed a ways away from Slaíne.
Something was different. Her Pull was all wrong; it was just as strong as ever, but its quality had changed. Aidan lay there, listening to the strange voice inside his head. Then he suddenly shot across the bed and landed against her with a thud, and was then tossed away as if by an invisible hand. “What the devil?” said he, picking himself off the floor. Half-awake and wondering how he had lost control of his abilities, Aidan crawled back on top of the coverlets and placed a hand on Slaíne’s brow. She was still cold. He felt for a pulse, though he knew what he would find: a strong, healthy heartbeat that thrummed in time with his own.
Aidan.
He curled into a ball and shivered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “What?” he said through a yawn.
You feel different.
Aidan cracked an eye open. Was he going insane, or was she somehow tapping into his thoughts? “You feel different.” He shuddered violently as the wind outside picked up to a howl.
You’re not insane.
He blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Wake up and tell me that. Then I’ll know for certain that we’re both mad.”
The voice that sounded like Slaíne’s sighed. Nay think I can yet. Too tired.
Aidan grunted. He knew the feeling. “I really have lost my mind. Nothing’s been the same since the cave.” In the cave where they had hoped to find the Questing Goblet, Aidan had been forced to Dismiss himself and Slaíne into Nothingness. Something strange had happened there. Slaíne had said something about him freeing her spirit, and then proceeded to take something out of his chest and put it into her own. He had felt so cold, so…empty. Then there was pain. Slaíne had taken something out of her chest and put it in his. When they had returned to Existence – the world where the living dwelled – she had fainted and Aidan was left wondering what exactly had happened. At the thought, something stirred in Aidan’s chest. Again he let out a mighty shudder, and now could not keep his teeth from chattering.
You gotta let it take over, I think.
That did not sound promising. “Let what take over? The madness…or whatever illness this might be?”
Slaíne stirred, and Aidan sat upright, ready to help her if need be. Her eyes remained closed, and her chest continued to rise and fall at a slow, rhythmic rate.
Cold.
“I would try making a fire,” he said, as though she could hear him in her sleeping state. “But there’s no wood, and Nothingness is….” Aidan puffed out his cheeks and gestured widely in frustration. “I can’t access it.”
You’re cold, Aidan, not me. Nay fret ’bout no fire. Crawl in next to me.
Now Aidan knew himself to be losing his mind. If she had been conscious, the Slaíne he knew would never make such an invitation.
Maybe I’m not what you knew. Maybe I’m more.
Aidan decided to ignore the voice in his head to the best of his ability, and curled up again on top of the coverlet with his back pressed against Slaíne’s side. After some time, he drifted off and slept a dreamless sleep.
* * *
“There was a man
Sat at death’s door
The girl he had
He loved no more
Now from her breast
She drew her light
Placed it to rest
In him, the blight
Loved not the wife
Not in her life
But in her death
Gave him her breath
And sealed her…”
There was a long pause, to which Aidan awoke with a frown. “Hello?”
“What rhymes with ‘breath’ but means ‘fate’? Or maybe somethin’ else….”
Aidan rubbed his eyes and looked over at Slaíne, and was surprised and relieved to find her eyes open, if only a crack. “Are you all right?” When she didn’t respond but lay there, blinking at him, he repeated his question.
“Oh, I heard ya the first time, Aidan.” She started humming, only to stop and start listing words. “Breath, death, deaf…deft? Nah, those aren’t all true rhymes and none of ’em fit, anyway. Help me out.”
He rolled onto his back. “You’ve been asleep for two days.”
But she shook her head. “Nah, more like five. You’ve been asleep for two.”
That made Aidan sit upright. “What do you mean I’ve been asleep for two days? What has happened? What’s—”
Slaíne placed a distracting hand on his leg. “Calm down, Aidan. I’m not awake enough yet for ya to have a full-blown panic.” She yawned large enough to swallow a pillow and blinked frantically before swearing. “I figure another ten minutes should be right.” There was a pause, and she opened one eye further. “You know about it yet?”
Baffled, Aidan stared at her. “Know about what?”
She swore some more. “Ne’er mind. If I tell ya, you’ll be upset.”
It occurred to Aidan that she had said something strange moments earlier, something she had only ever said when she was under great duress. “Slaíne,” he said after a moment. “When did you start calling me by my first name?”
But she had started to snore. Upset.
Aidan shook his head and then reached for Slaíne, only to be hit with a bolt of blue light in the hand. “Ack!”
Slaíne stirred and groaned. “You can nay do that right now, Aidan.”
“What did you do? How…?”
“You startled me.”
Now it was Aidan’s turn to swear. “I’ve startled you before, and you never threw blue fire at me then.” He held his hand where the light had struck him, which felt as though she had slapped it. This was getting to be too much for Aidan to cope with. What would she do next? Turn into a frog and leap out the window?
You’re overreactin’. Her lips were unmoving. Was she speaking to him with her mind?
“Are you inside my head?” Aidan demanded, tapping his right temple and then daring to tap hers. This time, mercifully, she did not attack him.
“Of course I was inside your head,” she said, taking his hand and holding on to it. “We’re bound.”
What was she talking about? “Bound to what?”
“To each other, you great idiot. Now, let me be a minute more.” Slaíne tugged on his hand, effectively pulling him down next to her. Her brow puckered and her grasp on him tightened, but whatever had her worried, she did not voice it.
Aidan’s pulse quickened as she rubbed small circles on his wrist with her thumb. Her Pull warned him a moment before her eyes flew open and bored into his. Once gray, they now were an unnatural blue. A thrill of terror and desire jolted through Aidan, and he didn’t know whether he should flee or throw himself at her. He didn’t get a chance to do either.
“I feel your fear,” said Slaíne, placing his hand on her breast over her heart. Her skin was like ice, making him shudder. “It’s natural for most to be afeared of me. But you ain’t most no more. We are one, you and me.” She released his hand, letting it rest on her bosom.
Her heartbeat was frenzied. The second rhythm in her chest, the one Aidan recognized as his own, had taken off as well. His hand steadied and he rubbed the spot there, eliciting a primal sigh from Slaíne. Delighting in the sound, Aidan traced his callused fingers across her collarbone and marveled at the silky smoothness of her skin. Her flesh warmed at his touch, or rather, Aidan observed, his cooled to match hers. He ceased caring that they were in the clutches of a dangerous wizard and he forgot about Meraude. Blood roared in his ears as he rose to his knees, searching her eyes for permission.
In answer, Slaíne grabbed him, effectively tearing his shirt and landing him astride her, right where he wanted to be.
* * *
After, they lay entwined, his clothes here, her clothes there. Aidan no longer felt the cold, though something told him the moment he let go of Slaíne, he’d be shivering again. “What happened in the cave?” Aidan ventured to ask, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
Slaíne was quiet for a moment, and then rested her head on his chest. “You say a wizard’s got us?”
Aidan grunted. “Yes.”
“He’s not the only wizard in this place, Aidan.” She said nothing for a time, as though letting the truth settle into Aidan’s brain. When he remained silent for too long, trying to make sense of things, she sat up, her red waves cascading over her shoulder as she twisted to face him. “You understand me?” She smoothed his brow.
“How did I not know?” he asked. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a…wizard?” It made no sense. She had displayed no powers beyond being a Blest with the gift of flight. Why now? As she continued to stare at him, into him, Aidan’s thoughts cleared. “After the cave, in Nothingness, you said the curse had been broken, and something about freeing your spirit. The curse—”
“The curse that was put on me kept my powers locked down. I nay knew I was a wizard ’til they was unlocked.”
Aidan nodded, though he still found himself bewildered by the whole thing. “Well,” he said after some time, “what does this mean for our plans to destroy Meraude?”
Slaíne groaned. “Well, we’ve a better chance at succeeding, to begin with.” She gave Aidan an odd, expectant look, one that he would think about late into the hours of the night, before releasing him and sitting up entirely.
Just as Aidan had predicted, he again found himself freezing cold. “That is a boon, indeed.” The words came out through his teeth, which were clashing together so hard, he thought he might knock a few of them out by accident.
“You nay started no fire? It must be cold in here for ya now.”
“I tried,” he reminded her. “There was a green fire in here earlier, but that went out quickly enough. I….” Aidan watched as she moved toward the wardrobe, opened it, and began rummaging through its contents.
First she pulled out a silky green tunic, which she pulled over her head, then a pair of men’s trousers. Those she hoisted up to her waist beneath the tunic, securing the loose fabric about her with a sash. Satisfied apparently, Slaíne reached farther back and pulled out a shorter tunic and another pair of trousers, which were longer. “Here,” she said, tossing them at Aidan. When he didn’t move, she snapped her fingers, jumping when a blue blaze appeared in the fireplace. “Well, that answers that question.”
With a shudder Aidan pulled on the trousers, which were much too thin to keep out the biting cold of the room, secured the sash around his waist, and then pulled on a brown tunic. “How did you do that – make the fire, I mean?”
Slaíne laughed. “Magic, I s’pose. But I can nay quite control it…yet.”
Aidan did not know if he entirely liked the sound of that. “How are you going to learn to control it?”
“From our wizard host, of course.” She reached into the wardrobe once more and pulled out a dark brown cloak, which she brought over to him. “Here. This should help.”
“Thank you.” Aidan threw the cloak around himself, marveling how at once his shaking and teeth-chattering ceased. He felt warmed through, as if he had been plunged into a hot bath. He followed Slaíne to the door, which she tried pulling on, before swearing at it.
“Well, that’s rude.”
He was tempted to remind her that being taken hence and held against their will was beyond rude, but now knew what she was potentially capable of and did not provoke her. “He walked through the door like it had no substance,” Aidan said. “Can you…?”
Slaíne threw her weight against the door, and bounced off it. “Not very ruddy likely. Let me try something, though.” She took a few determined steps back, and Aidan made sure to remove himself from her path, for she had raised her hands as if preparing to cast a spell. Shaking and clenching her jaw, Slaíne stared at the door with rapt concentration, and then made a throwing gesture at the knob. Nothing happened, except the blue flames in the fireplace began to dance wildly. Her shoulders hunched and she looked at Aidan, as if daring him to laugh.
He was not even inclined to give her a half-smile. There was nothing remotely amusing about their situation.
“Have you tried escaping?” she surprised him by asking.
Aidan shook his head. “The bars are iron,” he said, pointing to the window, “and the door has been locked fast.” He did not voice the fact that he had been concerned about her condition and had hoped that the wizard would help her.
“Iron don’t feel dif’rent now?”
He considered that for a moment before saying, “It does feel different. How would you know?”
She did not grace that question with an answer but again threw herself at the door with a loud grunt before falling to the floor in a heap. With much cursing, Slaíne got to her feet and began pounding on the door with her tiny white fists. “Hey, you. Wizard. Let us out.”
Now Aidan did feel the stirrings of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, but didn’t dare let a smile come into full fruition. “Perhaps I ought to tell you, the wizard’s name is Hex.”
“Odd, that.”
Aidan nodded. “And there are at least two other prisoners here, and it seems they were trying to find us for some of our journey.”
That caused Slaíne to cease her pounding and yowling at the door like a cat left out in the rain. She turned to Aidan, the strange blue light in her eyes flashing, before fading and leaving her looking almost human again. “The shape-shifter?” Before arriving at the cave, Aidan and Slaíne had noticed they were being followed, and one morning, they were awakened by the creature, who had attempted to kill them both.
The mention of the creature made the hairs on Aidan’s neck prickle, but he brushed the feelings of terror aside and shared the rest of his information with her. “I don’t think so. Larkin warned us that I was being sought. They must be the persons to whom she referred.” Larkin was a Blest with the ability to see parts of the future and had hindered and helped him at different points in his journey.
Slaíne took to pacing, and as she did, sparks of blue fire flew haphazardly from her fingertips, though she did not seem to notice, until her tunic began to burn. She stifled the small blaze by putting the offending part of the sleeve in her mouth, much to Aidan’s horror, and then resumed pacing. “That ruddy seer. She ought ter have told us more about what we would face.”
“She said something about there being holes in a veil, and that our futures ended in darkness.” He moved to the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress. “Perhaps she did not know our fate.”
That caused her to laugh without humor. “Some ruddy good seer she is, then. If’n she told us what’s true.” Slaíne paused and whirled around to face Aidan. “Right. And you can nay feel anything in Nothingness?”
Aidan winced. “It’s there, but I keep…overshooting it every time I try reaching into it.” He studied Slaíne, who suddenly looked guilty.
“Your magic’s changed.”
It took great strength of will not to grind his teeth and growl. “We’re going to need everything in our arsenal if we’re going to escape this wizard.” And now I’m absolutely useless to us and our cause.
“You’re not useless,” she said patiently. “You just gotta learn to adapt.” She joined him on the edge of the mattress. “’Sides, like I said afore, I need to learn my magic from this Hex fella. Then maybe he’ll set us free.”
“To go on our merry way and kill Meraude?” It was Aidan’s turn to let out a dark, humorless chuckle. “I’m afraid that’s most likely not going to happen. Our wizard host has the Drifting Goblet and at least one other, the Warring Goblet.”
Slaíne put a hand on his knee with a squeak. “He do?”
Aidan stared at her fingertips. “Yes, and he did not seem keen on releasing us or them when we last spoke.” Why, though? What could he mean to do with them? Aidan’s stomach clenched just as Slaíne’s snarled, and they both looked at each other. “You haven’t eaten in a week.” They’d only had water available to them.
With a sigh, she removed her hand from Aidan’s leg and rose. “You probably nay have either. Lemme try somethin’.” Slaíne took her hand in his and pressed it over her heart.
“I have eaten.” Aidan felt his half of a soul begin to writhe in her chest, and his heart began to race in excitement.
“Stop thinking amorous thoughts, Aidan. Try to focus on Nothingness.”
He cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and began feeling for his cache in the land between the living and dead. Salem’s confused face flashed before his mind’s eye, then the mansion, then the orchard and fields beyond. “It’s the Beyond again.”
Something shifted inside him. Aidan felt a great swelling of power within, one that threatened to tear him apart. Then, before he could fully comprehend or reach for the source of this strange new strength, he felt the power leech out of him, until only the old, familiar one remained. Aidan sensed the Pulls inside Nothingness, those of food and cloth and tools. Still dazed, he attempted to latch on to only those Pulls that were edible, and succeeded in Summoning them to Existence, along with a few other things, he found upon opening his eyes.
“There,” said Slaíne, her brow creased as she released his hand. When he was slow in removing it, she gave him an amused, albeit dangerous, look and Aidan let his hand drop.
The power that Aidan had felt surge through him pulsed again, before fleeing to some dormant, quiet place inside his chest. Eyes wide, he looked at Slaíne. “What was that?”
She shrugged. “Just some o’ my power.”
Aidan had more questions, but he would save them for later. Right then, the food was proving too great a distraction. They fell upon the small feast – leftover cuts of ham, some bread, and a slice of cheese – as civilized as they could, though both proved ravenous. It took a deal of willpower to override his instincts and let Slaíne have the first drink of the one and only water bladder he had managed to Summon. By the time it returned to him, the contents were more than half-gone.
Her eyes spoke her apology as she broke her fast in silence. Finally, after every morsel had been devoured, Slaíne sighed and then sniffed. “We both reek to high heaven. Maybe that’s why that wizard will nay come near us.” She laughed, and he managed a low chuckle in response. With a grunt, she was back on her feet. “Right. We should try somethin’ else. I wonder if….” She worried her lower lip for a moment and gave Aidan another strange look, before closing her eyes and reaching out her hand as if grasping for something. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” he asked, only to be immediately hushed. Frowning, Aidan watched her and was ready to ask her if she was all right, when he felt another strange stirring of power in his chest.
Slaíne groaned. “Do ya nay have any tools in Nothingness?”
His hand flew to his heart, which began to throb excitedly, as though he were running a race. “What sort of tools do you mean?”
“Like a hammer or crowbar or somethin’ we could use to pry the door open.” When Aidan did not respond, wondering if he was having a heart episode, Slaíne snorted. “No, Aidan. Yer all right. Just think of the tools in Nothingness. What do they feel like?”
Aidan tried to consider this, but the surge of power intensified, and he became aware that a strange presence was rummaging through his cache in Nothingness, one that was alien and at once familiar. “How are you doing that?” he asked in wonderment.
“Doing what?”
He grasped his chest and willed his heart to stop racing. For a moment he managed to slow its pace, but then he felt her soul-half within his chest writhe; it gave him a jolt, as if in warning.
Don’t interfere, she said.
Aidan’s temper flared. “What are you doing?”
Slaíne ignored him, and then…. “Aha!” She Summoned a copper knife, nearly cutting herself. It sliced through the air and clattered onto the ground by her feet. “Ack!”
Had he not been so confused and startled, Aidan would have rushed to her aid. As it was, he sat there, gaping at her for a moment, before his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How?”
“Lights above, Aidan, but ya’ve got to ’ave something better than this stored away. Concentrate.”
Once again she shut her eyes and reached out her hand, but this time Aidan was having none of it. “Slaíne,” he said, stumbling to his feet. As the stirring began again in his chest, he placed his hands on her shoulders. Both pulsing souls within his breast and within hers stilled for a moment, before a loud ringing filled his ears. It happened so quickly. One minute they were touching, the next they were on opposite sides of the room, a wall of red fire between them.