Chapter III.22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two Days Before the Wedding, Continued
Miria swallowed. While she understood (all too well) Adaline’s sentiment, this was not a battle that should be fought with a cudgel, like Tuli had beaten the abomination. She would need to be as sharp and subtle as Adaline’s sword edge to prevent additional damage to innocent people.
“We can’t,” Miria said, reluctantly. “Or not so quickly anyway. Anytime Rosmilda attacks us with magic, she’s drawing on some child’s power, and that child is feeling the repercussions. It’s slowly killing them. We need to avoid that, if at all possible.”
She said if, but there was no if about it.
If she was correct, two of those children were her half-sisters.
They both had magic in them, and Miria didn’t believe for a moment that a woman who was so ready to harm another woman’s child would draw the line at her own.
She might be more careful, which was why Miria’s sisters were still alive, but they were too convenient a power source for Rosmilda to ignore.
She had to get them away from Rosmilda, for their sake and her own. If she could bring them to the cottage, she could wrap them in spells to protect them from Rosmilda. The other children, whoever they were … Miria would help them, too. But for now, she would start with the ones she knew about.
Small steps. A beaver’s dam might alter the flow of a river, but it was built with one log at a time.
“How do we that?” Adaline asked, interrupting Miria’s thoughts. “Can you block her?”
Miria blinked until she recollected what Adaline was referring to. “I don’t know. I wrote to the other witches this morning. Hopefully, I’ll learn more when someone writes back. In the meantime, I’m going to start with what I do know. I need to rescue my sisters.”
“We need to rescue your sisters,” Adaline said, already reaching for her sword belt.
Miria braced herself, because Adaline was not going to like what she was about to say. “Not you. It’s—”
“Daughter of Yali the Wise, first Witch of the Shadow Wood, Sorceress of Gawfrid, if you think I’m staying here and sitting on my ass while you embark on a dangerous rescue mission, you do not know me half as well as I thought you did!”
In spite of everything, Miria had to fight down a laugh. It had been a while since Adaline had called her that, and in light of Yali’s passing, she’d adjusted the title. Good memories relieved some of the chill in Miria’s blood and soothed the frayed edges of her heart.
But they didn’t change anything. “It’s not that I don’t want a valiant would-be knight with torn skirts to accompany me, but remember what I said.
Every time Rosmilda draws on her power to attack, we risk her harming an innocent in the process.
Two of us together are more of a threat, thus it’s more likely that she would lash out.
If I go alone, I might be able to avoid that kind of confrontation. ”
Ideally, she could avoid Rosmilda entirely and sneak her half-sisters away without their mother noticing.
But now that Miria knew her stepmother had been aware of her sneaking around her house once, Miria would not put it past her to figure it out again.
This time, Miria would be smarter and look for magical wards or other traps that would give her presence away.
Adaline pursed her lips, her arms crossed. “I concede the point. But tell me this isn’t just about you trying to keep me safe when I could be helpful.”
It was about keeping Adaline safe, which despite recent events, was something Miria was best able to accomplish with Adaline at the cottage. It was also about what Miria had explained, though. “Any help you could give me is outweighed by the potential harm. I need to attempt this on my own first.”
With a sigh, Adaline removed her sword belt and tossed it on the table. “Keeping you safe is important to me too, you know.”
Miria pulled her close. “I know, but I’m much safer in town today than you are.”
Adaline grunted in response. “If my future wedding wasn’t in question, there’s a strong likelihood your family would be at my uncle’s manor for pre-wedding festivities.
There were parties and gatherings planned for all the out-of-town guests.
Who knows what’s going on now, but it’s possible they’re there anyway, scheming together. ”
It would make Miria’s life easier if they were, but she was committed regardless. “Let’s hope they are holed up at your uncle’s since my sisters aren’t likely to be with them.”
“I can’t imagine they are. Their names are Winda and Katline, by the way. In case you didn’t know.”
She hadn’t. Winda and Katline. Miria tried the syllables out a few times. “They’re good names. Strong names.”
She hoped the girls were stronger than they looked.
It was early afternoon by the time Miria was prepared for the trip into town.
She’d packed supplies, including as many premade spells as she could, and she’d taken the extra time to scry on her father’s house for whatever information it had to provide.
Everything appeared quiet on the outside, which was all she could see.
It suggested Rosmilda had some wards around the building to prevent being spied on, and Miria would need stronger magic or a better means to learn more.
Adaline consoled herself over her inaction by turning Tuli into her sparring partner and assuring Miria that she would figure out how to cook dinner while Miria was gone, a promise that gave Miria something else to worry about on her journey into town—namely, that Adaline would burn the cottage to the ground.
Miria had expected to discover men searching the forest for Adaline as she walked, but to her surprise she found none.
It was unlikely they’d given up, which suggested that Rosmilda’s attack meant she and Miria’s father really were working with Adaline’s family.
Where the men had failed yesterday, magic took over.
Although Miria doubted Adaline’s family was aware that magic was being used.
Still, she was grateful for the quiet; and disguised, Miria entered the town without trouble.
Any part of this plan that did not require her to use magic was a gift.
Once she found her sisters, she would have to quickly wrap them in protective spells.
If she had to fight Rosmilda on top of it, Miria feared tiring herself out as much as she had the day before—a possibility she hadn’t shared with Adaline since it would only worry her.
She kept her eyes open for signs of trouble as she made her way toward her father’s home, but although the townsfolk she passed seemed especially tense, nothing else stood out of the ordinary, and especially tense wasn’t surprising given what happened yesterday.
Word would have spread through the taverns and town square.
Even those who had previously turned to the witch in the woods for help expected her to stay in the woods—to not make trouble.
For the witch to have made such a bold appearance, to have openly attacked (from their perspective) the Lord of Gawfrid, the world would have turned upside down. If someone as powerful as Lord Sigmun was threatened, so were they all. It would have been stranger if no one was on edge.
Miria patted her satchel of supplies for reassurance. At least if anyone saw her looking anxious, she had a good excuse.
Acting like she had every reason to be there, Miria strolled up to her family’s home. Today, there would be no hiding herself. Her sisters needed to see her, and she couldn’t risk casting any spells she didn’t absolutely need to. When she found the girls, then there would be time for magic.
Miria held that thought firmly in mind as she inspected the servants’ side door for wards. None had kept her out last time, but there were as many kinds of wards as there were needs for protective magic. Rosmilda had known Miria had come here before, which suggested Miria had set off something.
She ran her finger around the door frame, hoping no nosy neighbors were watching.
When she found nothing, she turned her attention to the stones beneath her feet.
There, in the center of the path right before the door, she found what she was looking for.
One of the flat walkway stones was giving off power, faint but enough to tickle her palm.
If Miria hadn’t been searching for it, she’d never have noticed it.
No doubt she’d stepped on that stone during her last visit.
After another glance around, she knelt and flipped the stone over.
Sure enough, a sigil had been painted on the bottom in a reddish-brown ink that Miria suspected was dried blood mixed with other substances.
It was a simple warning mark, not too unlike the ones Yali had drawn around the cottage and which Miria maintained.
Only the power in this one was cruder. Rosmilda had known what to draw, but she hadn’t perfected the technique for powering it, nor did she have the strength to make it invisible.
Although perhaps she simply hadn’t bothered.
The fake sapphire she’d given Adaline suggested Rosmilda had skills when it was worth her while to employ them, but most people wouldn’t be picking up the stones.
Miria removed a jar from her satchel and sprinkled its contents over the ward. The mix of salt, forest dirt, herbs, and a drop of Miria’s own blood worked instantly. The sigil faded from view, and Miria felt its power vanish. She quickly replaced the stone and wiped her hands on her skirts.
No one had stopped her or called out to her yet.
Luck was on her side, perhaps. She inched open the servants’ door and slipped inside.
Although she heard a few voices from the direction of the kitchen, and the scent of roasting meat and baking bread filled the air, she encountered no one, and she crept up the stairs, holding her breath.