Chapter Twelve #2
The elder lady cocked her head to the side, then nodded to the tub. “You alright? Water runs a bit hot in these old pipes, hope you didn’t scald yourself. Ain’t nothin’ worse than burnt skin between your toes, trust me.”
“Uh,” Avelina blinked rapidly, shaking the fuzzy static from her own mind. “Uh, no, sorry, I must have spaced out. How long have I been in here?”
“I’d say a good ten minutes, why?”
Avelina lost ten minutes? Just to a two second conversation? Her gaze fell to the tub, horror prickling the skin up her back. When had she filled the tub? How long did she stand there, staring at a water without a single person in it? She stepped into the suds, steadying herself on the sides.
“Must have slipped my mind,” she murmured, unable to come up with a better excuse. “Sorry, who are you? Are you in here to hurry me up?”
“Name’s Neddy,” the woman said as Avelina finally got a good look at her.
She was an elf, a wood elf by the green hue to her skin and the bark like etching around her temples and forearms. Neddy rolled up her dark sleeves to show off more bark shaped grooves in her skin.
Legends of old said different elves came from different makers, and wood elves were closer to Fey than they were to city folk.
Especially when they lived in the groves their magic stemmed from.
But long, pointy ears, long hair that was the perfect minty blonde, and pointed facial features?
Avelina would bet her left pinkie toe Neddy was an old wood elf.
It wasn’t the crow’s feet crinkling at the edges of her eyes, or the slight silver hue of her eyes.
It wasn’t even the way she hunched slightly at the shoulders.
Avelina could tell Neddy was old by the expression carved on her face.
Elves who lived as long as Neddy felt had a certain disconnect behind their gaze.
The elder, Lord Pavlin of the Order, had the same dissociative stare.
He was a tall man, long white hair to match his eyebrows and clean-shaven facial hair.
She could picture his golden eyes burning through her even from two days journey away from the Stronghold.
The one time she had the misfortune of speaking with him, years ago, he made her feel like an insect.
“Nice to meet you, Neddy. The culinary mastermind,” Avelina tried with a grimace, hoping that Neddy had a sense of humor.
Neddy snorted, wiping her hands off on a rag tucked into her belt.
She wore trousers that were fitted to her strong legs and a flowy blouse tucked into a thick, leather belt.
Much like Callum’s, it sported two knives, a few pocket pouches, and that rag.
“I wouldn’t call me a mastermind. I can follow a recipe, and I like learnin’ new foods, but I ain’t much for comin’ up with new tasty treats on my own. ”
The dry yet jovial woman pulled the wooden stool out from beside the basin and plopped down into it. She pulled out something from a pouch on her belt and flicked it into the bath. Avelina caught it before it sank more than an inch. She stared in confusion at a rock.
“Heard ya like shiny rocks.”
Avelina smiled, despite herself as she pulled a dusty jade stone from the water.
Holding it up, she inspected it in the light.
It was a smooth, kidney shaped stone with a finger sized hole in the middle.
On pure instinct, she put the stone closer to her right eye, closed her left and peered through the hole.
Neddy hummed thoughtfully, “Aye, so you know about seeing stones?”
Avelina turned her gaze from wandering the ceiling to the woman beside her.
Her heart skipped a beat to see that Neddy was not simply a person, but a being.
A tree made of swirling smoke and a cruel face carved in its bark sat intertwined with Neddy.
Avelina slowly lowered the rock to her chest. “What is that?”
“That’s my patron,” Neddy smirked.
“You’re a warlock?”
“Down to the bone. Now, don’t go pointin’ that thing at Paladins or clerics of SunBringer, your eyeballs can thank me later.”
“Thanks,” Avelina giggled nervously, curling up around her knees. “Callum said something about it’s been a long time since a warlock’s walked Gloomsdale.”
“He’s right, we haven’t had any roll in for some time now.
Years and years. Boy didn’t last long. They won’t let us if they know what’s good for them.
Our contracts are typically made for terrible magic, which lends itself to quick power grabs or short plots.
Not many of us have deals like you and I.
” Neddy folded her arms over her lap as she studied Avelina from that same, impassive tilted chin.
Avelina scrunched up her face, mouth opening as if to ask…
but long fingers crept up her back. She swallowed down a scream as familiar boney digits clutched her bicep.
Someone sat behind her; a scratchy lace pressed against her skin as someone put their chin on her shoulder.
“You can see her,” Avelina breathed.
“Not as you see her, I see a figure, like a shadow that’s thicker than smoke.
” Neddy shrugged, gaze falling away to the water where Avelina soaked.
The hands slithered away and she felt Catalysta physically melt away.
She jerked around, glancing behind herself as if she might catch a glimpse of her goddess.
Neddy sighed, “You’ve joined a nasty one, that’s for sure. ”
“I didn’t have much of a choice, she picked me.
” Avelina whipped back around. Neddy handed her a washcloth and sighed.
Grabbing up the bar of soap that was left on a nearby ledge, Avelina began to lather up her body and scrub the mess off her.
The words fell out of her mouth. She honestly had no reason to trust Neddy with her story.
Who she really wanted to tell was Tala, but she wasn’t sure her best friend was on speaking terms with her yet.
So Avelina washed, she couldn’t stop, like with each patch of filth, she was also ripping off a scab.
First the stains of sex, then the dirt, followed by the grime, all while she detailed every instance of The Dead Mother. “And so, I took her hand.”
“I don’t blame you. If I could remember why, I’d tell you why I carry The Poisoned Tree’s seed within my heart. But it’s been so long, that wound is already skinned over.” Neddy offered a hand and helped hoist a freshly scrubbed Avelina out of the tub. “Welcome to Gloomsdale, Maiden of Madness.”
A hard shiver ran down her spine and there was a snicker floating around in her ears that didn’t come from any living thing. Her goddess’ ghostly touch along her back told her Catalysta liked that title.
“What?” Avelina furrowed her brows as every inch of her prickled with gooseflesh.
“That’s what they’ll call you. All followers of The Voiceless One.
Just like the Bark Father’s children are Poisoned Seeds.
You get used to the titles. They’re all bullshit, but they’ll call you it regardless.
I almost had a cult following once, ages ago, back before that Stronghold was so tall.
Ah, them were the days,” she trailed off, shaking her head.
“Anyways, Cottonmouth took the boys out into the swamp to inspect something. He asked me to take you out; let ya see the place while there’s a drop of sunlight to soak up.
A storm’s rollin’ in tonight, so best to do the sight seein’ now. ”