Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
A Magical Village
Unexpected Discovery
Bria stared at Winnie, certain she had somehow misunderstood what the woman meant.
“Home?” she repeated softly. “This is not my home.”
Winnie said nothing at first. She merely sliced the warm loaf of bread and placed several pieces upon the table as though the quiet task deserved more attention than the confusion tightening steadily inside Bria.
Finally, the older woman looked at her. “Perhaps not the home you were raised in, but your beginnings likely rest here all the same.”
The words unsettled Bria more than she wished to admit.
“Nay,” she said quickly, almost too quickly. “You are mistaken.”
Winnie’s gaze remained calm. “Am I?”
Bria folded her arms tightly across herself, suddenly feeling exposed beneath the woman’s quiet scrutiny. “I was born in Leighfeld. I have lived there my whole life.”
“That does not mean your blood began there.”
The strange certainty in Winnie’s voice irritated her.
“You speak as though you know me.”
“I know enough.”
Bria shook her head sharply. “Because you felt warmth through a touch of my hand? I am a comfort healer. That is all.”
Winnie’s expression changed slightly then, something between sympathy and disbelief.
“All?” she repeated softly.
Bria bristled. “There are many comfort healers in Leighfeld.”
“Perhaps it is as you say,” Winnie said, “but not many with the power of your birthright.”
The words struck Bria wrong instantly, and yet she could not help but think of what her touch had been revealing to her lately. How she knew or sensed things, like how she knew an item had been stolen or how she knew Tibby feared the man and missed home as soon as he pressed against her leg.
Her shoulders stiffened, frightened yet intrigued at the thought. “I possess no power.”
Winnie tilted her head slightly, studying her with increasing interest now rather than argument. “You truly believe that?”
“I don’t believe it, I know it.”
“And yet I felt it as soon as we touched and for that to happen, you must be powerful, but then you are in Driochmor now. No doubt that increased your powers.”
Bria opened her mouth to protest but found no words waiting.
Winnie continued more quietly. “Tibby must have sensed it as well, which is why he trusted you and sought your help. He fears most strangers. And what about the trees? They speak to you.”
Bria’s breath caught softly.
“The trees?” she whispered before she could stop herself.
Winnie nodded once. “You touched one and the old trees do not offer comfort freely.”
A chill slid slowly through Bria. She had told no one of that. “How could you possibly know that?”
“You forget magic lives in Driochmor. Many here possess the sight or sense things, and then there are the ones whose touch goes deeper; they see more, feel more.”
The cottage suddenly felt too warm around her.
Bria rose from the table abruptly and turned away, trying unsuccessfully to steady the confusion building inside her.
“I comfort people when ill or in need,” she said firmly. “That is all I have ever done. I ease pain. Fear. Grief.” She shook her head. “There is nothing unusual in that.”
“There is when it flows beyond simple touch.”
Bria spun back toward her. “You speak of me as though I am something unnatural.”
Winnie’s brow furrowed at once. “Nay. Never unnatural.”
“Then what?”
The older woman regarded her quietly a long moment before answering. “One of us. One of Driochmor’s own.”
The words struck harder than Bria expected. Impossible. Everything about this was impossible.
She laughed faintly, though no amusement touched it. “You cannot truly expect me to believe such nonsense.”
Winnie neither argued nor appeared offended. “It is not my task to convince you.”
“Good,” Bria snapped softly. “Because I would not believe it regardless.”
The older woman took no offense. She simply moved slowly toward the hearth, adjusting the kettle hanging above the flames as though giving Bria time to digest the news before she spoke again.
Winnie turned toward her once more. “You have spent your life in Leighfeld among healers who understand little of your power. It was a safe place for you.” Her gaze sharpened gently. “Until your gift blossomed and began to grow more powerful.”
“I do not want to be powerful.”
Winnie smiled sadly then. “Few worthy of it ever do.”
Bria looked away, her thoughts twisting painfully now. Part of her wanted to dismiss everything the woman said and walk from the cottage entirely. Yet another part of her knew there was truth to her words and the thought tightened something painfully inside her chest.
“Where can I find those who you believe I am like, whose skill you believe I inherited?” Bria asked.
Winnie glanced away for a moment and when she turned, Bria saw a sadness in her eyes. “I do not know if any of your kind still live.”
Bria found it strange that a sense of sorrow drifted over her. Why would she feel for those she had never met?
“How can I find out if any still live?”
“It would not be wise of you to ask,” Winnie said.
Bria’s brow wrinkled. “Why is that?”
Winnie lowered her voice after glancing quickly at the door.
“King Halric ordered the death of those he called the Intruders. Most died, a few, if rumors are to be believed, went into hiding. Where? No one knows. But having met you, I would guess that some dared to hide under King Halric’s nose, among the healers in Leighfeld. ”
“Why did King Halric order their deaths?”
“He claimed they turned against him, against Scotara, and were responsible for his son’s death.” Winnie kept her voice low. “Let no one know who you are, for there is a good chance that King Dravic will see you dead since your kind is still marked for death.”
Bria sat staring until a whisper fell from her lips. “My kind, who are they?”
“They are known as the Wise.”
Kaelan followed the narrow eastern path through the village, aware of watchful eyes tracking his every step.
Driochmor’s people hid their caution better than most, but not entirely.
Women gathered in talk paused to look his way. A man sharpening tools outside his cottage lifted his gaze briefly before returning to his task. Even the children remained quieter than children ought to be, studying him from behind fences and doorways with open curiosity.
Outsider.
The word lingered silently around him no matter how politely Winnie had welcomed them.
Kaelan paid little attention to it, his thoughts remaining elsewhere.
Too much had changed too quickly since arriving in Scotara, and he trusted none of it. What began as a simple search had become something far more tangled. The creature remained hidden somewhere within Driochmor, outsiders now crossed forbidden borders with growing boldness, and Bria…
His jaw tightened slightly.
He never expected it. One touch had been enough. Since that moment, every instinct within him remained fixed upon Bria with relentless certainty. Even now, with distance between them, he remained aware of her presence as keenly as if she stood beside him.
Yet instead of bringing peace as it should have, the bond sharpened the unease quietly growing within him.
Bria asked questions no one else would dare ask. Worse, she noticed things others overlooked entirely. The longer she remained near him, the more difficult it became to decide which truths must remain buried and which eventually could not.
And then there was the matter of her touch.
Kaelan shoved the thought aside before it settled too deeply. He needed his thoughts elsewhere right now.
The path curved gently ahead, opening into a small gathering place near the center of the village. Several weathered stones circled a wide fire pit with flames burning brightly while beyond it stood a larger cottage built of dark stone and heavy timber.
An older man sat outside upon a wooden bench, his silver hair braided back from a deeply lined face weathered by years and harsh seasons. Though age had touched him heavily, nothing appeared frail about him. His sharp eyes settled immediately upon Kaelan the moment he approached.
“You are the outsider who returned Winnie’s Tibby.”
The man’s voice carried calm authority without effort.
Kaelan inclined his head slightly. “I am called Kaelan and was told you are Kilham, elder of the village.”
“Aye, that I am,” Kilham said with a pleasant smile. “And you, Kaelan, have questions for me.”
Kaelan nodded. “Does everyone in Driochmor possess sight?”
“Most possess awareness beyond what you know of it, but villagers and areas of Driochmor vary. You would be wise to be careful where you go and who you trust. Just like the rest of Scotara, good and evil exist here.”
“Advice I will be sure to mind,” Kaelan said.
“Now what do you want to know?”
Kaelan’s gaze drifted briefly toward the forest beyond the village before returning to Kilham. “Have outsiders passed through here recently?”
Kilham’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“One time no outsider dared cross into Driochmor willingly. The king’s edict made sure of that. And now?” Kilham gave a low, humorless grunt. “Now the king sends emissaries beyond the borders and suddenly others grow curious enough to test boundaries best left alone.”
Kaelan thought immediately of the man who had taken Tibby.
“More than one outsider then.”
“Aye, most come searching for something.”
“Power?” Kaelan asked, knowing too well how it was craved by too many.
“Sometimes, though more often answers.”
Kaelan recalled Winnie saying the same.
“You ask questions like a man already familiar with Driochmor,” Kilham said, studying him more keenly. “And there is something familiar about you.”
Kaelan met the elder’s gaze just as keenly. “Yet we’ve never met.”
Kilham’s brow creased for a few moments before fading, a last effort at recall.
“The man who took Tibby asked no questions. He simply snatched him up. But Winnie’s retrieval spell worked, though sooner than expected. Retrieval spells can be tricky. Then there was another who passed this way.”
Kaelan was quick to ask, “Did he say what he searched for?”
“Nay. But it was obvious he believed Driochmor held it.” Kilham nodded briefly. “You search for something yourself.”
“Everyone searches for something.”
“But you search for someone.” Kilham’s gaze lingered on him. “Did this someone enter Driochmor willingly?”
Kaelan answered without hesitation. “Aye.”
Silence settled briefly between them before Kilham spoke again. “Perhaps he does not wish to be found.”
Kaelan’s eyes hardened slightly. “That changes nothing.”
For the first time, genuine interest stirred visibly in Kilham’s expression. “So, you hunt him.”
“I seek him.”
Kilham leaned back slightly upon the bench. “Be careful of what you seek, Kaelan. You may not like what you find.”