Chapter 8
Eight
An Old Friend
Tapping snapped me awake. It was faint but constant. The water sloshed around me as I stood. It was only warm; I must have been out for a while. I looked to the door, but the tapping wasn’t coming from that direction. Over the tub, near the ceiling, something black tapped on the window.
There was nothing near me that could function as a weapon, and I cursed at myself for not having an axe with me, bath or not. Bracing myself, I stood in the side of the tub under the window.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
With a bar of soap in each fist, I was ready to throw whatever I could reach if need be.
Holding my breath, I unlatched the window.
The window fell halfway open, a chain catching it before it could hit the wall.
A large black bird scrambled through and flapped down to the edge of the tub in a flurry of feathers and claws.
In my panic to get out of the way, I dropped both bars of soap and sloshed half the water out of the tub.
When all was settled, I blinked. A giant wet, black bird was perched on the tub in front of me, making an annoyed clicking sound.
“Puko?” I stared at the ancient bird that never left Mila’s shoulder.
He cawed loudly and looked at me with his one clear eye.
“Wren?” Eberon’s muffled voice called through the door. “Is everything all ri—Where is this water coming from?”
“I’m fine! Don’t come in. Everything is fine, and I’ll clean it up.”
A moment later, a firm knock sounded on the door.
“Wren, it’s Thain,” he boomed. “We need to know you’re all right, will you let Schula in?”
My eyes darted to the door; in my exhaustion, I hadn’t locked it. I cursed at myself. Puko seemed to agree.
Caw.
“Oh, shut up,” I hissed.
“Is that a bird?” Eberon said, muffled by the door. I tried to grab Puko, taking him by surprise, and he squawked as I lifted him toward the open window. He struggled, not willing to leave. I was twisted, half climbing out of the bath to reach higher, when the door opened.
“Bear shit,” I hissed.
“What is happening in here?” Schula shut the door behind her and stared.
My back was exposed, seal and all. A wet, half-blind raven was clawing and pecking at my arms as I attempted to stuff him through a window.
In a panic, I whirled around and slipped, dunking myself and Puko into the tub.
I shot out again and gasped for breath. Water sloshed over the side, spraying Schula and flooding the bathroom even more.
We stared at each other for a moment. A long moment.
She looked between me, dripping wet with hair clinging in odd clumps around my face and shoulders, and the giant black bird in my arms, still as a statue and staring at her with his good eye and beak open, then she slid out the door without a word.
I sank in the tub and let Puko free himself to perch indignantly on the side again.
He ruffled all the water he could off his back and began preening himself.
This was it. Whatever reaction this might earn me was coming.
Mila had been certain it was a witch seal, and after Thain’s earlier words, I wasn’t confident this would end well.
Best case scenario, they would send me away.
Worst case . . . What was the worst case?
My head went to a place I’d been in many times before, of staring, mockery, sneering, and shunning.
Being offered the worst produce at market, having doors and windows closed as I passed by.
And I’d seen in many eyes that they wanted to do far worse than that.
My head swam to a darker place, where the threat of something violent lurked in my future.
A soft knock came a moment later, and it might as well have been a blow to my chest as I froze. This would be it, whatever was to come.
“It’s Schula. I’m coming in.” She entered with an armful of fabric, my sack, and two large towels.
Ice stabbed through my heart looking at the pile in her arms. So, this was how it would end. I would be asked to take my things and go. Any promise of a place with peace was too much for me to hope for, and I was a fool.
“Schula,” I croaked, “I’m sorry. I’ll go as soon I can.”
“Go?” Lifting the sack, she pulled out one of my spare tunics. “I’m here with your clothes.”
Staring at the worn fabric in her hand, then down at the clean towels, then back to the white fae before me, I was at a loss. “You mean for me to go . . . after I dress?”
Schula sighed, setting the items down on the stool and pulling one towel free. “You’re not being sent away. I will admit this is . . .” She scrunched up her nose. “Complicated. But let’s get you dressed first.”
She held up a towel for me, and I took it, wrapping myself in it as I left the tub. She pointed at the stool, a silent order to sit, and then began combing my hair. I hissed as the teeth hit the scar tissue on my ears. She paused, and I let her draw back my wet locks.
Shame and embarrassment bubbled up in me as she stared silently, first at one side of my head and then the other.
“Thain told us as much,” she offered softly. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
And that was it. She combed my hair and let me braid it, all in silence with no damning weight in her gaze. She drained the tub and handed me fresh clothes. Then, with my towel, she mopped up the floor while I dressed.
“This is for the bird. If it will let you.” She handed me the other towel.
“He will,” I said. Puko, to his credit, sat still while I dried him off. He fluffed out his feathers when I was done, inspecting himself with his good eye.
“I’d like to talk to you upstairs, please,” she said, hanging up the towels on a bar meant to air them out. “I want to clarify a few things.”
“Have you told the others about the marks?” I whispered.
Schula pulled her lips between her teeth, eyeing the door. “No, but I should.”
“Please!” I still held Puko in my arms, but even the bird seemed to sense it was time to keep quiet. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear.”
The snowy fae blew a huff of stress and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Let’s go upstairs. I’m not promising anything yet, but let me at least try to wrap my head around what’s happening here.”
“Thank you,” I said, piling one more favor on my shoulders. Unless what Thain said was true and it was no longer a practice. Either way, I owed Schula for this moment.
She gave me a grim nod and went out the door first to shoo the others away. They weren’t in sight when I left the bathroom, and she led me upstairs.
We arrived in the room, and Puko wrestled himself out of my arms to perch by the window, settling his good eye on Schula as she sat on my bed.
She patted the blankets next to her for me to join her.
My gut twisted, and everything felt cold despite the hot bath I’d just left.
This was a moment that would’ve had me chased out of Silver Lake by humans, and I didn’t know what the fae would do.
Their finding out might just cost me the new place I thought I’d found.
“So,” she started, “I saw witch markings on your back.” I grimaced. Puko chirped, clicking his beak. “And I would love to hear the story behind that. You smell of the Wyldes, so why the witching marks?”
“They found me with them. As a baby, I mean. This mark isn’t something I put on myself, but just as you said, it’s witchcraft all the same. This will cause a problem, won’t it? Thain said they aren’t welcome.”
Schula hummed. “You aren’t wrong. It’s certainly complicated. And the marks haven’t done anything to anyone else?”
“No,” I answered. “It only affects me.” I gave her everything I knew about the seal, telling her about Mila and touching briefly on the time we’d tried to remove it only to be met with a backlash of fire that still haunted me. Keeping it sealed up was for the best.
Schula had stood and started pacing slowly, back and forth between the door and the window while I spoke. My stomach churned watching her, watching my fate in measured steps as she came to whatever conclusion she was going to find.
“Okay,” she said, stopping before me. “I’m not going to say anything. We can pretend I was helping you with the bird over there. But these markings, you need to deal with them eventually. Agreed?”
“Thank you.” I could have melted into the bed. “But do I really need to remove it? It’s done the job for twenty-five years now.”
“Yes, you must. It’s keeping a part of you from yourself.
Besides, questions will arise when you don’t show signs of magic.
” Schula offered a tight smile. “I’m sure there are people in your life that have already tried to make you feel bad for things about you that aren’t in your control.
I can see that this is another one of those things, and no matter how others will view you for those marks on your back, I will not judge you. ”
Puko ruffled his feathers, shaking out a few more drops of water as he groomed himself. She looked over at the raven with tired eyes. “Now, about this bird.”
The breath whistled out of me, the tension deflating in my rigid shoulders.
Good. This was good. The seal was as much a part of me as my hands or my eyes.
It was just . . . there. Keeping something at bay.
Something I couldn’t quite explain. Something wrong, something I didn’t want to be and didn’t want to let out.
Now, Puko I could explain. Sort of.
“Puko belongs to a friend, and it appears he followed me north.” I looked over at the bird in my window. “He’s harmless.”
“The witch?” Schula watched Puko as he preened.
“Yes.” At this point, I owed her complete honesty, and I remembered some of Mila’s last words to me: I will always watch out for you as best I can. “I think Puko is here to look after me, actually.”
“I see.” Her eyes slid smoothly from the window back to me. “As long as he can’t do any witchery himself.”
“No, no,” I assured her. “Even Mila said as much.”
She nodded. “Can I ask about . . .” She touched her own ears.