Chapter Twenty-nine
Ena
The following day, with a fresh inch of snow on the ground, the three of them finally joined the Chasm Road about a mile from Aquilo.
The road was familiar to Ena, but she found herself on edge nonetheless.
It was possible, now, that she could run into someone she knew—surrounding villagers that recognized her, or Aquilo witches that knew her.
Though, blessedly, Yule had just passed, so without any other major celebrations in the Turning approaching, she didn’t expect to see any members of her own Coven.
Either way, she rode with her hood up just in case, hiding her bruised face in its shadow.
They’d decided to assume their usual cover as metal goods traders to gain access to the village, but it was tougher than visiting a mortal village, because the witches did not host visitors at guesthouses.
Visitors instead had to camp in the surrounding area and then petition the matriarch to approve their trade request. And given the cold, visitors were fewer and farther between this time of year, so they really had to do their best not to stand out.
They decided that, since Ena could not show her face to Northe, the Aquilo matriarch, whom she’d met many times before, that Ty and Turner would go to petition her for a trade to maintain their cover while she snuck into Cris’s house to leave the message.
When they got close to the village, they veered off the road into the woods, heading for a good camping spot Ena remembered from her childhood.
While the Aquilo Coven didn’t have access to a large river like the River Wry, there were plenty of smaller streams that flowed across the landscape, and Ena led Ty and Turner towards one in particular that passed by an old, gnarled oak tree that she and Cris used to climb as children.
After breaking for food, the three of them left their horses tethered and walked on foot towards the village, Ena’s stomach twisting with every step.
She knew she would have to use her Gift to safely get a message to Cris without being recognized, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She didn’t relish taking away someone’s free will, and even though losing herself to the thrall of her Gift somehow deeply satisfied the part of her which craved losing control, she knew that afterwards she would inevitably carry some guilt.
As they approached the main pathway leading through the village, Ena left the men with a nod. She noticed a slight look of trepidation on Ty’s face, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything—he simply continued on with Turner towards the matriarch’s house, leaving her to her own devices.
Ena veered left, down a less significant path towards a smaller house on the edge of the village, one she was intimately familiar with.
The house used to be Cris’s parents, but they’d relinquished it to their three grown boys around the time they’d all received their Gifts.
It was an older house, and in need of some repairs—some of the stones were crumbling and the roof had significantly more moss than was ideal—but it was cozy and welcoming regardless, just as Ena remembered it.
Walking up the garden path, she heard voices inside. Two of them, both male.
She knew that Cris’s Gift of calor would be in high demand this time of year—he would be needed to warm the barns for animals, or assist the elderly with inadequate hearths, so he would, in all likelihood, not be home. The voices she’d heard must have been his brothers.
Attempting to look casual, she approached their weather-beaten front door and knocked.
The voices inside stopped and the door opened to reveal Cris’s younger brother.
He looked similar to Cris, with pale-blond hair and light-blue eyes, only he was shorter and thinner than Cris was.
His brow furrowed as recognition warred with his surprise over seeing Ena, and most likely confusion over the state of her face too.
He opened his mouth, but Ena didn’t give him a chance to speak.
The use of her Gift was so practiced now, she barely had to concentrate. It flowed through her, like her Knowing, always ready to be tapped into. Using it felt like second nature as she reached for the thread connecting her mind to Cris’s brother’s, the channel between them, and spoke.
{Step aside and let me in. Then forget you saw me.}
Her visanis compelled him, and he did as he was told, stepping aside to let her through the doorway.
Ena stepped into the warmth of their hearth room, looking around to take stock of her surroundings. The house was mostly one large room, with a sofa and two chairs clustered around the fireplace on one side, and the kitchen area occupying the other.
Ena noticed some discarded knitting on the sofa, presumably belonging to the brother she’d already seen, but where was the other one, the older one she’d heard him talking to?
She used her Knowing to assess her surroundings for signs of him.
There was a pot of something simmering on the hearth in the kitchen, and a knife laying on the counter, as if someone had been recently chopping, but no one else was in sight.
Then she heard it: a small creak of the floorboards just outside of her vision. She turned her head just as the man gripped her wrist roughly.
“What did you do to my brother?” he asked, his face a mixture of confusion and wariness. Ena almost pitied him. Almost. She knew what her Gift must look like from the outside, but she was done having her safety threatened in any way.
{Let go.}
He immediately released her.
{You never saw me here. Continue with whatever you were doing.}
Cris’s older brother furrowed his brow, as if something had been right in front of him but suddenly disappeared. He shook off his confusion and wandered back into the kitchen, picking up his knife.
“Was someone at the door?” he looked up to ask his brother.
“No. Must’ve been the wind,” the younger one replied as he sat back down on the sofa and picked up his knitting.
If Ena’s heart hadn’t been beating so hard with adrenaline, she would’ve taken a moment to be impressed with herself, but she didn’t want to count her blessings. She needed to leave her message and get out as soon as possible.
She moved to the back of the house and down the narrow, dark hallway which led to the bedrooms on either side. Locating the familiar door at the back of the house, she opened it into Cris’s room.
It was dark, with only one window, and there was no fireplace in his room, but she knew that since receiving his Gift, that probably wasn’t a problem for him.
He used to have to use a bedwarmer, and she remembered sitting on his bed talking late into the night, being careful not to kick it lest she burn herself.
She moved to his desk in the corner of the room, which contained some scraps of paper.
Cris liked to draw, but the disorganization of his desk always shocked her—and little had changed in that regard, since it currently contained dozens of half-finished charcoal drawings and as many charcoal sticks, most of them worn down to the nub.
Her eye caught on one drawing in particular, however. It was placed at the back of his desk, leaning against the wall and held into an upright position with an empty candlestick holder. She recognized it immediately.
It was her. She remembered the day he drew it, when they’d been outside mushroom hunting and playing around.
They’d practically been children then, maybe just fourteen or so.
It was long before she’d met Ty, and the drawing showed her as she had been then—her hair was down her back as she crouched, reaching for a mushroom on the ground.
Her face was out of view, but he’d spent an extraordinarily long time sketching her hands as they’d stretched for the mushroom.
Ena was awed that he’d kept it so long, and in such a place of honor on his desk. There were no other drawings on display except that one, and a crinkled one of a cat. She didn’t quite know what to make of that, but she didn’t have time to focus on it right now.
Instead, she grabbed a mostly unused scrap of paper and charcoal stick and scribbled her message.
Cris-
I need your help. Meet me tonight by the oak tree—you know the one. But please, keep this message and our meeting a secret. I’ll explain everything when I see you.
Ena
She left the note in the middle of his unkempt bed, hoping he’d notice it right away when he returned, then she slipped out of his room.
She passed the two brothers, still focused on their tasks and unaware of her presence, as she quickly made her way to the front door.
Cautiously stepping back out into the cold, she assessed her surroundings, assuring herself that no one had seen her come and go, before heading back to their campsite.
She hoped against all odds that Cris would believe the note—that he’d recognize her handwriting and come as she’d asked—but something about the way that drawing was displayed made her realize…maybe dragging Cris into all this would be more complicated than she originally thought.