Chapter 7
CHAPTER
7
The next morning brought with it cooler temperatures as the forest was blanketed with dense fog, making the grass slick. Glancing out my window, I tried to see beyond our lands but couldn’t make out much. I welcomed this type of weather. I awoke, still feeling a bit melancholy from the day before. I wanted to tuck away this shame and instead replace it with numbness; find some way to ignore the fact that my family and I remained untouched by the harsh realities of village life.
We oversaw the territory on behalf of the king. Beneath the veneer of that honorable duty, I was just now seeing the layers of hypocrisy and apathy. I didn’t want to confront the thought of just how spoiled we were. Why should anyone go hungry at all? Why should a drawer full of jewels collect dust while small Fae children have hungry bellies?
Between my education and isolation at home, it seemed like all they wanted us to be good at was looking away and ignoring problems instead of solving them. When Father spoke of his travels, he rarely mentioned people suffering or blighted lands. He focused on the exciting things, like the riches and the beautiful sights. I understood that the generations before us had suffered hundreds of years of instability and bloodshed during wartime, and now they wanted to leave their troubles in the past. Professors liked to say the land and its people were healed, but that’s not entirely true. People are still recovering; plenty are still suffering.
I dressed quickly and apathetically. Haphazardly throwing on a few layers, just comfortable clothes for riding. I tied my hair back into a loose braid to help keep my locks out of my face. I grabbed an entire coin purse filled with plenty of Lorcs and tied it to the inside of my lightweight cloak. Today, I didn’t entirely have a destination in mind, but I knew I’d find a way to check something off the list and lift my spirits.
When I ran into Father in the hallway, he gave me an approving nod and informed me that Versa and my mother had already left earlier in the carriage. They were both attending a dress fitting, and I tried to ignore the stinging reminder that I didn’t need one. He looked at me knowingly as I lowered my eyes in quiet sadness.
“Where are you headed?” he asked curiously, quickly changing the subject. Before I could answer, he continued, “We could always find something to do together…” he trailed off, as if pleading for more time with me.
I didn’t mean to come off as dismissive to my father, it was just that I wanted to be alone. “I’m going riding.”
Before he could offer to join, I added, “Alone. I’m sorry. I just feel like being alone.”
He put his hand on my shoulder, pulling me into him a little and giving me a gentle peck on the top of my head. “I understand. Please be safe.”
I admired that my father wanted to be protective as long as I was still his to protect. I knew as my time here dwindled, it had to be eating away at him. I could tell because dark circles were beginning to form around his steely green eyes.
Perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping, or maybe he’s been trying to find some way to get me out of my obligation, but I already knew that it was fruitless. I wasn’t about to get my hopes up.
I stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a couple of small items to snack on along the way and a giant canteen of water. I looked around at the kitchen staff, who were utterly annoyed that I was helping myself. It was more apparent than ever how ridiculous it was to have staff on hand to do these simple things for us, especially after yesterday. I’m quite capable of making myself a lunch to go.
Upon arriving at the stable, the eager hand greeted me. He was sharper than I gave him credit for, because today he asked me which saddle I preferred. Once again, I pointed to the unmarked saddle, and he quickly began tightening all the straps around Rain. He blushed when I thanked him, and I left, making my way beyond our land into the still fog-ridden forest.
Rain sprinted for what seemed like ages, weaving through the shadowless forest. In the distance, I saw a small, dilapidated cottage and pulled the reins to slow him into a steady trot. As we got closer, I could make out the aged hand-painted wooden sign which read Fortunes, Favors, her skin pale, almost gray and sickly. Her fingers were bony, but none of that was the most shocking part—it was her wings.
Her wings were out on display. And not in the poised way you might think one would show them off; instead, they were just there, calmly folded behind her shoulders. They were almost bigger than she was. Each wing contained the same mesmerizing pattern you’d commonly see on a moth. A gradient of browns, black, and beige, all culminated in a circle that looked like an eye assessing me. One on each wing.
I must have been stunned, mouth agape, because she remarked in a displeased raspy voice, “Are you going to stand there and stare or come inside?”
I certainly was staring. It was extremely rare for Fae to have their wings out, especially in any sort of casual manner. But here she was, answering the door for a stranger with her wings out, as if it meant nothing at all.
Wing display was typically only used in times of defense, either to shield or fly. Some Fae wouldn’t even show their wings at all, unless in the presence of their mate. Thousands of years ago, wing type provided evolutionary advantages to adapt to the region and climate where one had settled. As time passed, Fae clans expanded their boundaries across the lands and cultures blended together, making their wings more indicative of their lineage.
She turned her back to me and with one long spindly finger ushered me to follow her into the home. With her back to me, I was able to get an even better view of the majestic moth-like patterning.
“Girl, do you always gawk like this? It’s very rude.”
I tried to make an excuse, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…I mean, no one ever shows off their wings where I’m from.”
She interrupted, “Yes, yes you particular Fae and your silly customs, etiquette, and nonsense. I don’t subscribe to that.”
She waved her hand in all directions, and with each passing gesture, little candles began to flicker to life throughout the house, unveiling what could only be described as a hoarder’s treasure trove.
Every inch of the walls and floors was covered in things. Dusty books, knick-knacks, paintings, sculptures. Nothing was adequately displayed or even cared for, just piled all around. I had likely already offended her once, so I did my best to conceal my reaction and seated myself in the chair across from her at a small cloth-covered table.
She leaned forward in her chair and put her hand out to greet me. “I’m Asterius, but you can call me Aster if you’d like.”
Despite her lack of refinement, she knew the proper etiquette, holding her hand out to me flat, palm facing upward in accordance with the Fae custom. I noticed an odd black mark around her wrist, almost like a handprint. She caught my stare and quickly pulled down the sleeve of her dress. I placed my hand gently on top of hers and held it there for a moment. The icy touch of her skin sent a chill up my spine, and I did my best to spit out a flustered introduction in return.
“I’m Cress. I like your name, it’s very beautiful.”
There was no sign of warmth in her cheeks like a normal reaction when someone received a compliment. She nodded and pulled her hand away from mine.
Between us on the table was a large, round, golden bowl, at least a foot wide, filled almost to the brim with water. I’d never been to a Seer, but had heard that the way in which they use their gift can vary. Some needed to touch you, while others used cards, stones, or other natural materials. Some were believed to have visions in their dreams. And still, some even claimed they could convene with the dead.
Most people avoided Seers, due to the abundant rumors. Some said that the payment was steep, or that it required dark bargains to be fulfilled. She was very odd, but she did not scare me. At least, not yet.
“What brings such a beautiful young thing to my doorway? Seeking answers, are we?” She clasped her hands together, resting her fingertips against one another.
“I’d like to know what my future entails,” I replied softly.
She let out a snort and rolled her eyes. “Well, child, if you wanted to know your past you wouldn’t be here now, would you?”
I was feeling sillier and more uneasy as each minute passed. I pondered for a moment, and then I re-worded the question. “I want to know if I have a future.”
Aster smiled at me with an odd satisfaction. “That’s more like it.”
I was too terrified to ask if I was headed straight for death’s door. I intentionally worded it the way I did to go easy on myself, though I had a feeling Aster wasn’t keen on taking it easy on anyone.
“Please grip the side of the bowl with both hands and dip only your fingertips into the water.” She pointed encouragingly at the object between us. “Do not remove them until I tell you to. You may look at the water, but do not try and interpret what you see, that is my job.”
I did exactly as she requested and submerged my fingertips slowly into the warm water. Aster reached into the pocket of her tattered apron and withdrew a vial of black liquid. Opening it, she then poured the entire thing into the bowl. I watched as the liquid swirled like oil, remaining separate from the water but still within it. Then she performed the same placement of her fingertips in the bowl across from mine and waited.
When I finally stopped staring at the black liquid dancing around our fingers, I looked up to see that her eyes had both gone milky white and I could no longer see her pupils. I gasped audibly, but quickly remembered not to pull my hands from the water, even though her appearance was frightening.
She was such a tiny, frail thing, but it was clear she possessed strong magic and I wasn’t going to underestimate her. I kept my fingertips firmly planted on the side of the bowl and turned my attention back to the water, trying to make out whatever image or message it might show me.
I squinted my eyes and strained to understand what I was seeing. In some ways, it seemed like the black liquid showed both calm tides and then rough seas.
The fuzzy images constantly changed and shifted. She told me not to try and interpret them, but it was beautiful and I was transfixed.
Then Aster spoke, her voice no longer deep and raspy but this time melodic, almost like someone else was speaking through her. My breath hung on every poetic word that left her crinkled lips.
The ink is dry on pages past
but shines anew on skin.
Behold! When cursed die are cast
A conflict builds within.
Which path is safe?
Which door is locked?
How strong is faith
When arrows nocked?
Let loose, they’ll pierce the golden mask
that hides beneath the surface.
The sands of fate within your grasp
Reveal a darker purpose.
When Aster’s voice went silent, I watched as her eyes returned to normal. She looked at me like prey, cocking her head with a sly smile spreading across her face.
“You may remove your fingers from the water.”
I pulled myself away from the trancelike state, and when I looked down, the black liquid was no more, the water crystal clear again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I felt like I had been staring into that bowl for an eternity.
Her puzzling words echoed in my mind over and over. It was one giant riddle. Anger swelled in my chest. Is this what I was paying for, nonsensical rhymes? I wanted answers!
She could tell I was on the verge of unleashing my displeasure.
“Your fate is entangled with Gaia Wood enchantments.”
My eyes narrowed with annoyance.
She continued, “This vision is unclear. It ensnares my tongue to speak to you in riddles and rhymes because it doesn’t want to be revealed and can only be understood when it comes to pass. Your fate doesn’t want to be known.”
My hands clenched in tight fists. “But I want to know! I demand to know.” This outburst had been building in me for days. After all the hours of placating my family and pretending to be fine, I wanted to know what my future held.
“Your foolish outrage doesn’t change a thing,” she chided. “Gaia Wood enchantments are extremely rare and powerful. Whoever bound it did so intentionally to ensure its secrecy. I’m not about to go meddling—nor should you. Whatever you’re fighting, accept it.”
I pushed back from the table, rising to my feet defiantly. “I hope the price for this babble isn’t absurd.”
Aster clenched her teeth and began to look irritated—very, very irritated, and somehow her tiny size meant nothing as fear began to pulse through me.
“You insolent brat. You wanted to know if you have a future, and not only did I show you that you did, but I conveyed it’s one of importance, of secrecy, and yet you continue this ungrateful tantrum.”
I folded my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the bitter truth. I’m almost certain all of this secrecy and importance had everything to do with the king’s Offering, which I already knew, and didn’t get me any closer to the details I needed.
I did my best to keep replaying the words she said in my head, memorizing them so that I could mull through them later in peace and quiet.
“My apologies, Asterius. You’re right,” I replied curtly. “How much do I owe you?”
She began to walk me toward the door, and just as I stepped outside the threshold of the cottage, she stood there smiling at me slyly. “You owe me nothing. You’re about to lose everything, anyway.”
Before I could even respond, she closed the door in my face. I practically stomped my way back to Rain, who was still waiting at the fence nibbling on clover. I mounted and took one last glance at the dilapidated shack. I could see Asterius in the window, staring back at me with an ominous grin, and my stomach roiled.
This whole morning was a complete waste. I wasn’t any closer to answers and, in fact, now I was stuck with a senseless riddle that only concerned me more. I wanted a drink; Gods, I needed a drink.
Rain and I continued north in search of a pub where I could drown my sorrows and ignore the fact that I had been accused of being a brat!