Hidden Fire
A Spell for Softness and Sleep
Sometimes, my gem, the world gets the better of us.
It becomes difficult to focus, let alone rest. But to carry on, we need to get a good night’s sleep so we can rise and shine and find that things look brighter on the morrow.
No matter what challenges you face, you’ll need to bolster your spirits by putting your heart at ease.
I’m prone to worrying, as are most beings with sensible heads on their shoulders.
But there’s no need to borrow trouble when it comes to the door uninvited, all on its own.
To set aside your cares, you’ll need to cultivate the proper frame of mind.
Or perhaps it’s not you who’s got the troubled spirit.
You could use this charm to help someone who’s important to you.
At any rate, it’s effective for soothing hearts and minds and making those exposed to the soothing energies more inclined to rest at their ease.
It doesn’t cloud the mind or aught like that; it simply makes daily concerns feel a little less pressing for a time.
A gentle working, this one is, perfect to let people take a deep and healing breath, cast off their cares, and get a good night’s sleep.
This one is best cast right before you rest your head, whenever that may be, and go soft with your spell work. You’ll need:
Topaz and malachite
Dried marshmallow, meadowsweet, and motherwort
A copper censer
The steps to this working are simple. Place the topaz and malachite at the bottom of the censer.
Use your magic to heat the whole container.
That will be the most difficult part of this charm for you, my dear daughter.
But I believe in you. Not just for this working, but for your entire life.
I know you’ll do great things. But more importantly, I also know you’ll do kind things.
Now then, you have a hot censer and some dried herbs.
Place those on top of the hot stones. They’ll create a soft little puff of smoke, and the gentle aroma will allow you to rest easy.
As the censer cools, the scent will lessen, but you should be well asleep before then.
If the smoke troubles you, place the censer some distance away.
It should still be in the same room where you’re sleeping, though.
This spell serves a dual purpose. It eases your nerves and keeps nightmares at bay.
Or it’s supposed to. Whenever I use this working, I enjoy the most delightfully dreamless sleep.
I wish for you that blessing as well, my jewel.
Sometimes the blessing of silence is all we need to set us to rights, and we don’t realize how much clamor there is, even in our own heads, until it ceases, just for a night.
Sweet dreams, and know that I’m lighting a candle so you never lack a glimmer to guide you home.
Thea
“Are you feeling better?” I ask.
I try not to show how shocked I am. Before I touched the bottle, Kerboros had curled into a ball and stopped responding.
Knowing that we’re on a deadline—and failure has fatal consequences—I never would have chosen to join him inside if I hadn’t been so scared for him.
The exterior world is muffled, and I don’t think he’s noticed that he isn’t out yet.
That I’ve come in instead.
The attention to detail is impressive, frankly.
I couldn’t admire some of the intricacy of the model until I shifted in scale.
Now I marvel at the perfectly veined leaves on the trees dotting the distant hill, while in the foreground, a small ship dominates my view.
There is a pier with crates stacked on it and a coil of rope, but we are the only beings in the tableaux.
“I’ll be fine,” he says softly.
On some level, I can’t believe that we’re hugging.
But I’m too conscious of his heat and his scent for this to be an illusion.
I wouldn’t put it past Macha to mess with our minds, but each of my senses confirms that this is real.
I can’t say how long he stays curved around me like a vine, but I register the moment he realizes that the environment is the same.
He lets go of me and eases to his feet, gazing at me with a complicated expression.
By which I mean, there is a pleat between his brows but his eyes are soft and his mouth seems almost to be curled up on the sides.
Nobody has ever looked at me this way before—with this entanglement of gentleness and exasperation.
“Why did you do this?” Kerboros asks.
“We couldn’t communicate.” I pause, unsure how to describe his behavior.
“Because I panicked.”
That’s accurate. I swallow my own anxiety, trying to ignore the ticking clock in my head.
Morally, this was the right choice, but it may not have been a good decision.
I’m so scared of being sent to the mortal realm to die.
Will it be painful? I don’t know what they eat or how to act.
I won’t understand the local customs, and I don’t have anywhere to stay.
I wheeze, forcing the fear away with brute mental force.
I let out a shaky breath. “Let’s hurry. I spent a week as a lizard in Macha’s domain, and we don’t have much time.”
“A week?”
“Seven sleeps. It’s tough to track time as a lizard. I mean, I wasn’t stuck inside a trap, but my physical form limited my travel options. It’s worrying when you’re small enough to be eaten by a bird.”
“I should think so. My magic doesn’t work in here,” he adds.
Half closing my eyes, I reach for the wild eddies of fae magic that are capricious with me at the best of times.
But the air is still and quiet. Is this what it’s like to be human?
Will I feel like this over there, once I’m exiled?
The idea of never seeing Da again, or any of my friends, Tara and Nerys, oh—
I realize he’s waiting for me to respond.
“I can’t use mine either. Do you mind if I test my innate abilities?”
Before, I promised I wouldn’t feed from him again without consent—and I shouldn’t have done it in the first place, even though Lord Liskaal has given me tacit permission to drain anger as needed to keep the populace compliant.
I…hate the fact that I need to, but sometimes hunger slips the leash, and I sample.
It’s instinct for me, and every day, I battle my nature.
I long to be someone who contributes, not someone who leeches from others.
But self-control leaves me unsatisfied, always hungry, always on the verge of doing something dreadful. The silence makes me feel guilty for asking, so I add, “Never mind.”
“Go ahead. I’m furious with myself for delaying us, so there’s plenty to spare.”
Us. What a curious word, one I never expected to hear from Winter’s hound.
I shouldn’t call him that. Something has shifted between us, and it feels wrong to dismiss him now that I’ve caught a glimpse of his secret heart. Silently, I extend a hand. If he takes it, that will persuade me his assent is more than empty words.
Kerboros gazes into my eyes for a beat, and then he puts his fingers on my palm, just the barest whisper of touch.
A frisson pops on my nerves, but before I can analyze what I’m feeling, appetite takes over.
His energy is dark and lush, filling me in a rush of dusky-purple wrath.
I can feel the heat rising in my face, a sensual flush, and he makes a sound deep in his throat.
I break contact, heart rate up, breath coming in soft gasps. “Wow. Was it good for you too?” My voice sounds embarrassingly husky.
He startles me with a laugh. “It was. I have no outlet for those emotions. If Liskaal suspected how I truly feel, he would judge me too great a risk, regardless of how useful he finds my service.”
I clear my throat. “Accurate. You weren’t kidding about the anger.”
“At least you won’t starve while we’re stuck. There’s something unexpectedly fulfilling about nourishing you.”
My chest feels tight. I never thought I’d meet someone who finds me less than odd. Some fae find my presence disturbing and would gladly return me to the mortal realm. There’s a bit of a flutter within the constriction, and I struggle to keep from revealing just how touched I am by his words.
“Good to know,” I manage to say. “We should check our surroundings. Macha never makes a trap impossible to escape.”
“There’s a way out?”
“If we’re clever enough to find it. She’s not a bad person, just…testy. She uses these snares to deter visitors.”
“One would have to be quite determined to persist,” he agrees.
“I’ll just…” I make a vague gesture toward the dock and hurry off, the heat lingering in my cheeks.
That was beyond awkward. Let’s not focus on that part.
If Macha left objects to be examined, maybe there’s a clue.
I peer into the crates and examine the rope.
They look like normal items to me, and nothing happens when I put the rope in the crate.
I try the other one just in case. Nothing.
There’s no result when I hop into the crates either. I try stacking them, to no avail.
Wishful thinking. I didn’t really imagine it would be that simple.
Maybe I’ll explore the hills away from the ship.
If I find a ring of tiny mushrooms, that would absolutely be the portal out.
But the distance is deceptive, and it takes what feels like a long time to walk the length of the hills.
I don’t find anything but random plants and flowers, and the light seems to be fading outside.
Kerboros is on the dock waiting when I get back. “Anything?”
I shake my head. “What about you?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
I could cry. The ticking clock is even louder in my head, but I’m so tired. It feels like forever since I said goodbye to Da. “I need to rest. I’ll catch a few winks, and then we’ll get back to it. We have to get out of here as soon as possible.”
Ugh. I regret my cockiness in assuring Kerboros I’d never need gear, as I can always find a friendly face, someone who’s willing to shelter me.
I guess I’ll curl up with a coil of rope.
While that could be fun under the right circumstances, I don’t have the energy to get creative.
Nor do we have the time, even if I had the verve.
“I’m missing something, but I’m no longer at my sharpest,” he admits with a trace of reluctance. He sweeps off his cloak and spreads it out. Then he produces a blanket from his pack. “We can share,” he adds.
I don’t question his generosity. Before he can rescind the quiet offer, I settle on the edge of the makeshift bedroll, bemused to find that the fabric retains his heat. The feeling is curiously intimate but not unwelcome. Not anymore.
“I’m surprised you’re open to this,” I whisper.
“Why?”
“Because I was so sure the wildlands would provide, and you said you wouldn’t help.”
“That was before. I don’t know that coming in after me was wise, but your kindness means a lot to me.” There can be no mistaking his sincerity.
It feels like the antisocial layers are sloughing away, revealing a Kerboros known only to me. “I appreciate it, as our predicament has me eating my own words.”
“And nothing else,” he notes.
Despite the dire situation, I laugh, settling in further. “I deserve that. I should’ve asked Uncle Tim for a snack. He has pockets full of treats that could sustain us for a week.”
There is something I can do to help us rest, however.
I sit up and delve into the bag hidden beneath my shirt and quickly perform a spell that should preserve our peace, at least according to my dad.
The smoke is soft, just as he promised, a faintest trickle that reminds me of expensive incense I’ve smelled burning in the Winter market.
“What’s that?” Kerboros asks.
I’m not sure if he means the spellbook or the ritual. Quickly, I explain, “Gifts from Da. To help me cope with my magical…differences.”
“That was kind of him. I see where you get it.”
“He’s the best.” I try (and fail) to ignore the fear tapping at the back of my brain. While I am exhausted, I don’t know if the anxiety will let me sleep.
“You’ve got a remarkably bright soul,” Kerboros says.
With the consequences for failure looping in my brain, it takes forever to drift off, and I awake with a yell at finding a stranger’s face right next to mine.