Twenty Five: Different Magics

Schula and Nassir were up when we got back. They sat at the little table and were talking. I could hear it all as we approached the cottage, but I'm sure Mila couldn't. They were discussing the witches.

"I trust Wren and I trust Mila but I don't know what to make of the rest of them," Schula said. "We don't exactly have a friendly history."

"I was there for that history." Nassir chuckled darkly. "There were wrongs done from both sides. Don't forget about the lifespan of a witch though. It may be longer than humans but it's nothing like ours. We aren't dealing with the same witches from a thousand or so  years ago."

"That's true." Schula sighed and I heard footsteps.

Mila and I were near the cottage now. I adjusted the jug of milk in my arms. It wasn't heavy, certainly not too heavy for a fae, but it was awkward to hold. We were barely at the front porch when the door was pulled open from the inside.

"Good, you're awake. You can take that bucket and fill it at the well." Mila walked past a slightly shocked Schula and I hid a grin. Mila had wasted no time in treating her just like anyone else. Make yourself useful or get out. I followed her inside and set the jug of milk on the table. I noticed Schula really did grab the bucket and she left with a smirk. I'm glad Mila amused her more than irked her. The old witch could rub some the wrong way.

"Come help with the candles, child." Mila was over the fireplace mantle and lighting them one by one. I stared when I watched the dancing flames lick around her fingers as she touched each wick to spur it aflame. These were no ordinary flickers of fire. They were each a different color.

Mila turned to look at me a moment before I hurried to her side. She didn't ask for my help with no reason, so I waited and listened.

"These are each one coated with different oils for different spells. Candle casting is old, but reliable. It's something you could potentially do, and be asked to perform." Mila pointed to a tall, narrow candle. "Light that one."

I held up my hand and willed fire to life in it. It wasn't hard to apply the fire to the wick, and it danced to life as vibrant and green as the fireplace did before.

"That is a spell against eavesdropping," Mila said.

"The fireplace earlier, was it the same spell?" I asked.

Mila's mouth held a ghost of a smile as she nodded. "Yes, although it was applied differently than with the candles. Now, light this one."

She pointed and one by one I lit the rest of the candles on the mantle. By the time I was done I was surprised to find myself short of breath.

"That's enough for now." Mila put her bony hand over mine. In the mean time, Schula had returned with the bucket of water and Mila gave her attention to the white fae.

"Where would you like your water?" Schula asked.

"Here, in the cookware." Mila pointed to the large pot in the fireplace and Schula dumped it in. With a gnarled finger, Mila pointed to a basket of vegetables by the door. Carrots, turnips, potatoes, onions, and some mushrooms she had found somewhere. Likely in the nearby caves. I took the hint and began scraping them into the pot since they were already peeled.

"Not the mushrooms, those go last or they'll be mush by the time the turnips cook," Mila said. She also pulled several spices from jars on the shelf and began putting handfuls in as the water began to heat. Then she tottered over to the little table.

"You two are certain to have questions," Mila said as she sat on her chair with a grunt. "Go on. Ask then."

Nassir, who had largely been watching in quiet amusement, cleared his throat from where he sat on the bed. "What is it you would expect of us while Wren is undergoing her assessment and learning?"

Mila reached out a hand and spread some crushed nuts on the table. Puko flew over instantly to devour them and Mila stroked his feathers as he ate. "I know what Wren wants, and I know what your Wyldes needs. You would do well to go about the valley as she trains and try to form some kind of reputation that is not of suspect. You are fae, we are witches. If Wren is to be proclaimed a witch and ask for our help and knowledge, it would go a long way for her if you were seen as approachable."

Nassir nodded, scratching his chin. "Very well. I think we can do that."

Mila gave Nassir a curt nod and turned her head to Schula. "And have you a question of your own?"

Schula set the bucket down where she found it and sat on the bed with Nassir. "Can we do anything to help Wren?"

Mila shook her head. "Wren is as ready as any of our young witches are. Nothing you do in the next few hours will help more than the last twenty years."

I finished putting the vegetables in the pot and wiped my hands on my tunic as I sat down at the table with Mila. I had mostly recovered from trying to catch my breath, but it was still an annoyance.

"Mila, I wanted to ask about that," I began but was cut off with a sharp look.

"You rest, child. You need to recover. You will be weary from the candles, or is that what you wish to know about?"

"Are you alright, Wren?" Schula asked.

"Our magic and your fae magic differ from each other," Mila explained before I had to answer. "Your natural magic is a part of you, an extension. Our magic is an exertion of what we can pull from the air around us, an ability unique to the witches. Wren has tired herself because she has not performed magic like this before. Our magic is as a muscle in your body. If you use it, it grows strong. If you don't it stays weak and difficult to control."

That surprised me and I found myself looking at the candles. It did feel different lighting them than to light a fire as I had until now. It must have been the witch magic.

"Gelwyn will be here shortly. I hope to feed you all before it, but after that a test will be done. Wren is to be assessed as a witch this eve and after she will report to a witch to learn the finer points of one of our crafts." Mila glanced at the bubbling pot of vegetable soup and muttered something under her breath as she waved a hand toward the fire. The flames licked higher on the pot, glowing more yellow now and Mila turned her attention back to the table and stroking Puko's feathers.

"What is this test like?" I asked.

Mila gave me a sigh and a look that made me wonder if she was going to tell me to wait and find out for myself, but she patted my hand instead. "We will walk to the Living Cave and she will test  your knowledge with questions. Then she will test your affinities with a few items. It is nothing to be afraid of and it will not take long."

"May we come to observe?" Nassir asked.

"All may observe," Mila answered. "Even the fae. It is an old tradition, and one we haven't used in centuries, but none here can argue it. You may observe the test if you wish it."

That made me feel a little better to have them there. Particularly Schula, my triquetram. Her eyes met mine and she gave me a reassuring smile. I didn't mind having strange eyes on me, I was well beyond that after being paraded through Icehold in nothing but my tattered leggings and a breast band. Not to mention the constant stares of the Khusuru in the desert. No, it wasn't' the strange eyes that bothered me, but facing my mother's magic.

"What if I can't do any witchcraft?" I asked.

"From what you tell me, you already have," Mila answered. "You've conjured purple flame, and you reinforced a spell in the sands. This will only reaffirm your place here with Gelwyn and any who agree with her."

I nodded numbly as Mila stood from her seat. "The soup should be done now. You may as well take a bowl now while we still have time. I don't advise taking your tests on an empty stomach."

Schula was the first to stand and reach for the clay bowls on the shelf, pulling them down and helping Mila to fill them. I fetched the spoons and passed them around and moved the table toward the bed so that even those of us who had to sit on the bed could eat from the table surface. Puko was displaced and sulked on his bedpost while we ate.

My eyes watered at the first bite. It wasn't hot, it wasn't spicy, it wasn't bad. It was home. I closed my eyes and let it sit on my tongue. It tasted like the mountains, and it hit me out of nowhere. I don't know why it mattered so much, it wasn't even as delicious as the foods from the Wyldes or the fancy restaurants in Sulls. It was just the taste of home.

Mila saw. I knew she did, and she directed the conversation to herself as a distraction.

"I grew this garden with seeds I brought with me from home," she started. "The turnips down here just aren't the same and the potatoes are rock hard. No good. Certainly not for stew."

I almost laughed into my next bite. Even trying to make small talk, which was unlike her entirely, Mila sounded like a stern teacher.

"I thought I recognized the coloring on these carrots," Nassir was happy to chime in, ever expanding his knowledge. "We grow something like it where I'm from. Tell me, do you pinch off every other flower bud as they sprout or do you leave them to their own devices?"

"You've got to pinch the buds," Mila said as though it were obvious. "They'll overgrow their bed and choke each other out. You've got to space out the ones that grow and let them breathe."

Nassir and Mila launched into a lengthy conversation about gardening, which I was all too happy to let them. Schula didn't look up from her soup as she devoured it, but once a cool hand rested on my knee with a gentle squeeze and I knew she was worried about me. I reached down and patted her hand in return.

Bowls empty, fire crackling, and conversation lulling comfortably, I was nearly ready to fall back asleep when the footsteps outside had me sitting upright. Schula and Nassir turned to the door too, and Mila raised an eyebrow.

"You fae types are so jumpy," she scoffed as she rose and swung her door open.

"Gelwyn," Mila said flatly.

The witch from before was standing outside now. Holding her head proudly and followed by a dozen other curious witches.

"Mila," Gelwyn replied in the same flat tone. "I'm here for the so-called witchling."

A wicked laugh from outside had Gelwyn sneering in distaste as I leaned forward enough to see Gilly with her hands on her hips, laughing at Gelwyn.

"She looks almost exactly like Lark, and you want to say she's no witch?" Gilly stepped forward and gave me a wink. "Step into the light, Wren. Let the others meet you. You're one of us, after all. And many of these fine witches were fond of your mother."

I scooted my chair back from the table and stood. A glance at Schula and Nassir gave me two warm smiles. Just what I needed to push forward and stand before Gelwyn. Mila smiled as I stood in front of the keeper of the valley, and I was more than a little pleased to see I stood taller than Gelwyn. And Gelwyn didn't seem to care for it.

A few hushed whispered whirled around the witches. Of course, I heard everything with my elven ears. Lark's daughter. Witch. Elf. Magic. They knew, they all knew me for what I was. I knew it, and Gelwyn knew it.

"Hello, Gelwyn," I said with a smile. "I am Wren, daughter of Lark. I'm ready for your test."