Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
SERAFINA
After receiving directions from a couple of locals, Thorne led me to a building on the outskirts of town. Carved into the entrance was a sigil of the Sacred Arbor Goddess, Hathor. Thorne knocked, and the door swung open, revealing a face I knew as well as my own.
“Yaga,” I cried, slinging my good arm around her wiry shoulders. “Bless the fates.” Tears burned my eyes. Relief from finding my mentor alive and unharmed threatened to weaken my knees. I sniffed back the emotions clogging my throat. Yaga wasn’t a fan of mushy demonstrations.
To my delight, the aged hag returned my hug, grip fierce despite her bony frame. “You’re late,” she said, an odd catch in her raspy voice. “I’d started to worry.”
Late?
“You must be the infamous Yaga,” Thorne said, extending his hand. “The one who helped to put the new king and queen on Carcerem’s throne.”
She ignored the gesture. Her cloudy eyes raked over him, and a crooked smirk tugged at her wrinkled lips. “That’s right. And you’re the handsome dragon shifter the fates have been yammering on about.”
“Fates?” Thorne wiped his palm on his thigh. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Oh, I’ve heard of you, alright.” Yaga flitted a hand dismissively. She clasped my shoulder, steering me indoors. “Come, child. Let’s see to that arm of yours.”
Thorne made to follow, and Yaga stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway with her bony frame. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Inside, to watch over my charge.”
“And it’s a fine job you’ve done,” the aged hag spat.
“Yaga,” I admonished. “It wasn’t Thorne’s fault I was injured.”
Yaga’s milky gaze narrowed. “Nonetheless, your kind isn’t welcome here, young man.”
“My kind?” Thorne’s voice sharpened.
“That’s right. Draconis are not allowed in Hathor’s sacred buildings. Not after what your kind has done.”
Wait. Yaga knew Thorne was a Draconis? What was she talking about? Had they committed some crime against the goddess?
He took a commanding step closer. “Now, listen here—”
“It’s okay.” I was quick to cut him off before he insulted the one person who may be able to help his brother. “Yaga is my mentor. I’ll be perfectly safe in her care. Just wait out here. Please.”
After a heated pause, Thorne relented, exhaling a sigh. “Don’t be long or I’ll be forced to come looking for you.”
“Huh,” Yaga huffed. “She’ll take as long as she needs. Proper healing can’t be rushed.”
With that last stab at the shifter, she shut the door in his scowling face.
Relief loosened my shoulders. “It’s good to see you.” Hints of herbs and oils wafted from her skin, reminding me of the hours we’d spent together in her workshop.
“You too, love,” she said, voice soft with affection. “Now let’s take care of that arm.”
Yaga led me to one of the empty cots, ordered me to sit, then pulled up a stool. She unwrapped the makeshift bandage Thorne had made from a piece of his shirt. At the sight of the ragged wound, she clucked her tongue. “Nasty cut.”
“It was Mortis. But…not Mortis. Honestly, I’m uncertain what I saw.” I’d watched Thorne stab him, didn’t I? Except, Mortis hadn’t even flinched, smiling instead of screaming.
Rather than moth sachets, he stunk of rot and decay. His wandering hands were cold as death when they’d groped my body. I shivered at the memory.
“Mortis, huh? I’m not surprised that rat found a way to rise from the rubble.”
“When you left Nefarr, you said you were heading for Ironwood. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here. I suppose it’s good you left when you did.” Now that I had time to think, Yaga had impeccable timing.
“Before you ask, no, I did not foresee the attack. Not that the Puritans would have believed me had I warned them. I left because the fates guided me where I was needed.” A distant gleam in her eyes as if she peered into the future.
She shook her head, setting her bead-laden braids tinkling. Once she added a scoop of crushed herbs to a bowl of steaming water, she submerged my forearm.
I hissed at the sting. “Have you seen Speck?”
Her expression softened. “Sorry, child, but to my knowledge, your shepherd boy hasn’t passed through here. Not many have. Sad to say, but only a handful of the folks from Nefarr reached this town. It’s likely most didn’t make it out.”
“And the fates? Have they whispered anything in your ears?”
Yaga winced. “They’ve gone quiet since the attack.
Almost as if some darker force is silencing them.
Shortly after Nefarr fell, I tried speaking with them to see how your shepherd and the others fared.
But the path was muddied. All I could pick up was a sense of urgency. Like their time was running out.”
That didn’t mean that Speck wasn’t alive. He was smart and resourceful. One way or another, I would find him. I refused to believe otherwise.
“Those creatures, the wendigos, why did they attack Nefarr?” Could they somehow be connected to this presence Yaga sensed?
She tilted her graying head, casting me a curious look through milky eyes. “Didn’t your dragons tell you?”
“No.”
Yaga harrumphed. “Course they didn’t.”
She hesitated, lips pursed in thought. Then gave a solemn nod. “Those creatures that attacked Nefarr once served a dark and terrible force, the likes of which hasn’t been seen in a very long time. Born of mist and shadows, The Dark One survived by draining life from the living.
“There are few left who remember, but once there were dozens of sacred arbors. One after another, The Dark One’s armies invaded the Arbor Kingdoms. Kings and queens sworn as protectors of the trees fell.
Anything connected to the arbors was devoured, leaving wastelands where magic once thrived.
Eventually, the remaining kingdoms united and struck back.
Together, they banished the beast into the darkness, never to return. Nobody has seen him since—until now.”
“You believe the wendigos came because of this Dark One, and not some isolated incident.”
“Sadly, yes.”
Her expression of concern ran a shiver down my spine. “If he was defeated, how is he here?”
“My guess is he sensed a surge in power when Carcerem received a new king and queen.”
Both Thorne and Alaric had spoken of their time in that place. In the kingdom that had imprisoned the dragon.
“This creature hungers for power,” Yaga continued. “That is why you must be especially careful.”
I blinked, startled. “Me?”
“Bah.” She tilted her head back, saying to the ceiling. “How could I have trained an apprentice this oblivious?”
Her gnarled finger flicked me between the eyes, and I flinched. What did I do?
“Yes, you.” Her frustration rushed over me, causing my ears to warm with embarrassment. “It was on your last birthday that your powers awakened. Didn’t you find it odd how flowers kept blooming under your ass?”
“You knew about that?” I winced, and the squinty, one-eyed glare Yaga sent me warned that I’d insulted her.
“I know about a lot of things. For instance, the reason you’ve come to me.”
“Yes, that.” I squirmed.
“Well, I’m waiting?” She arched a silver brow.
I huffed an exasperated sigh. “Yaga, you were right. I should have listened to you.”
“Good girl.” She plunged her gnarled hand into her skirt pocket, rummaging until her eyes brightened. “Ah. There it is.” She extracted a familiar cloth bag and tipped the hideous stone into her palm.
I leaned closer, examining the runes etched into the rock. Nervous anticipation skittered along my nerve endings. “How does it work?”
“I’ll show you.” She withdrew my arm from the tincture, drying my injured flesh with a soft towel, then leveled me with a look.
“Give me your hand,” she commanded, and given her mood, I didn’t dare refuse. I extended my palm, and she plunked the pendant into it. The instant the stone touched my skin, a gentle vibration traveled up my forearm.
“Now hold it tight, as you did before, and place it over your injury.”
I did as she ordered, holding it above my laceration. “Now what?”
“Now close your eyes and picture your flesh as it was before the attack. Whole and healthy.”
My eyes slid closed, and an image of my mended skin flashed in my mind. Warmth pulsed from the stone in my palm, climbing my arm, trickling into my chest, then spilling through my limbs. My torn flesh burned, and I winced at the discomfort.
“That’s it. Breathe deeply, and reach out with your senses,” Yaga urged. “Feel the world around you. The energy that connects all of us, animal, plant, and mankind. Draw on that power.”
I deepened my breathing, letting the tension in my shoulders ease. Static prickled my skin, and a strange buzzing hummed in my ears. Deep in my core, something stirred, stretching out its arms, reaching, then embracing. The odd sensation stole my breath. I tensed, ready to bolt.
“Don’t,” Yaga barked. “Stay right there.”
I swallowed, delving back into that oddly welcoming place.
“Now, envision that power flowing through your body. From your center, down your shoulder, into your forearm.”
Heat flared in the wound, searing and insistent. I grunted, gripping the stone tighter. Just as I was about to wrench away, a cool wave swept over my skin, soothing the burn.
“It…it feels better,” I whispered.
“That’s not all. Open your eyes.”
Where the bloody laceration had been was now only a pale pink line.
“You healed me?”
“Oh no. Not me.” Yaga’s voice swelled with pride. “You healed yourself. That stone is only a conduit. It amplifies and focuses what’s already inside you.”
“I… I have magic.” I cast a wild glance about the room, relieved to discover we were alone. “How?”
“You’ve been blessed by Goddess Hathor. You are one of her handmaidens. The mark on your neck is proof.”
Shock jumbled my thoughts. For a long moment, I gaped at Yaga, mouth hanging open, catching flies. Finally, my brain lurched into motion. I wanted to deny it, but deep inside I knew.
“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” When she claimed she couldn’t see anything.
Yaga nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”