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C at left in the morning, hugging us both goodbye and riding off down the shadowed road into the forest.

“Do those love potions really work?” I asked as we watched her go. “Are they actually magic?”

“They work. But the answer to your second question depends on what you consider magic. They work in the same way many of my tinctures do, with the natural healing power of plants. Damiana increases sexual proclivity and helps bind two people together. Fermented honey with linden flower relieves anxiety and has a relaxing effect. And it’s slightly alcoholic, for courage. ”

“So it only works if two people are already attracted to each other?” I asked.

Eilith chuckled. “Yes, it helps move things along if there is already a mutual attraction, if taken with the right intention, of course. It requires a bit of the users’ own magic. So, if the interest isn’t already present in both parties, I don’t give it out.”

“So the potions aren’t magic, then.”

“You’re asking for a black and white answer in a world that is only gray, child,” she answered. “Love itself is a far more potent magic than any practitioner could distill into liquid form. I know the limits of my abilities, but it does not mean it isn’t magic.”

“What do you mean when you say their ‘own magic?’”

“There is life energy present in every living thing. Some call it consciousness, some say it’s the spirit in all of us.

Others, like myself, call it Source. It’s present in all of nature, all around us, even within us.

That’s where my medicines get their power, their magic.

Straight from Source, delivered through plants.

Some places have more of it than others. ”

I nodded, and an image of those strange stones from my dream flashed through my mind.

“But some of the things I make require extra input from the spirit, or Source, of those using them. And just like some places have more Source, some people have more Source than others. And a stronger connection to all Source outside of themselves. Like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yes, like you. Come on, clearly there’s something different about you! For fae’s sake, I mean, you scare the shit out of everyone who meets you with those black eyes. You’re called ‘fae-touched’ for a reason.”

“I thought that was just the story,” I said. “Just what they call us because we’re different.”

“There’s always a reason for the story, Halja. Always truth hidden in the legend. That’s why we tell stories. It’s how we show each other the truth.” She glanced up at the leaden sky. “Come. It’s stopped snowing, and it’ll be easier if I demonstrate. We need to do this soon anyway.”

Eilith set off toward the groundwater spring and I followed. I was used to her cryptic philosophizing by now, and I waited patiently for her to explain as we went.

“I’m sure you know many of the myths and legends of our land, but it seems to me you need a better education in history.”

Blunt observations like this were the kind that had hurt my feelings when I was new here, but I was getting used to her way of speaking.

“Thousands of years ago, humans were not the only ones who roamed this world, made their cities here, raised their families here. The fae folk of legend were real, and shared this realm with us for thousands of years. And when they left, they left their mark all over this land.”

“The old relics and ruins really were from the fae?”

“Yes, child, and some of them still are,” she answered.

“What do you mean, still–”

“Just listen. Patience, and I’ll explain.

” She pulled her long skirt up a few inches as she stepped over a snowcapped log.

“The fae and the old humans of long ago understood that there is magic in the land.

All around us, in the water, in the air, in the earth beneath our feet.

And within the fae, in their very blood and bones too.

They existed with Source as a natural part of their lives, and so exposed humans to it as well.

Some humans even learned the secrets of wielding it, working with it.

One of the most common ways to do that was through the earth and the plants it gives us.

So, to answer your questions again: Yes, my potions do work.

And yes, they are magic. Some more than others.

“So humans and fae folk shared the land, in many cases even sharing cities.

Although most tended to be either predominantly fae or predominantly human, there were no strict rules governing who could live where.

Humans and fae made their homes alongside each other, and many humans even made their families with fae folk. For a time, at least.

“But tensions rose between the races eventually.

Perhaps the humans began to feel threatened or inferior, suspicious of the fae who lived so much longer and were naturally so much more powerful.

Perhaps the fae began to grow covetous of their Sourcery, resenting the humans for sharing the power that once belonged only to them.

“Whatever the reasons, the cities segregated, often violently. Skirmishes began. One group would raid the cities of another and provoke a retaliatory attack. Leaders of both groups began to radicalize their people, speaking of safety, protection, even purity. Humans would steal magical artifacts and relics, to ensure they wouldn’t lose the way of Source, or even to use the relics against their more powerful fae enemies.

Then the fae would steal them back and kill those who had crossed them. ”

My boots creaked in the snow as we arrived at the spring. Where it had not frozen over, the water was crystalline and clear. The sand and pebbles of the bottom danced and twirled with the current of the groundwater emerging from below.

Looking into the water, Eilith continued, “So the peoples separated, and skirmishes became war. Thousands died. Even though the fae were more powerful, they were greatly outnumbered. With their long lifespans, they reproduce much more slowly than humans, meaning losing their young men and women in battle was a much heavier hit to their population. So, eventually, the fae sought to save themselves, and disappeared.”

“To the other side of the Veil,” I said.

Eilith nodded. “Most left to the other side, to the Fiadhain. Some remained, masked from mortal eyes, and the cities they left behind were taken over by humans. Other cities left entirely, whole towns moving to the other side of the Veil, buildings and all, taking all their ancient knowledge with them.”

“But all memory of the fae was not erased from the land. Their circles still stand, their springs still flow. Hidden in forests, mountains, within the sea itself, their cities remain. There are those of us who remember their lessons, remember that we are all bound by the laws of nature and the Source inherent within. And some of us”––she looked up at me––“still carry the very visible marks of the ancient fae.” She beckoned for me to crouch beside her.

“Put your hand in, I want to show you something.”

I did as I was told, and the freezing water bit my fingers with cold, sharp teeth.

“Now, close your eyes, and feel.”

I did, focusing my attention on my hand in the water, feeling the current dance through my fingers. They began to ache with cold. I wanted to withdraw my hand, but I didn’t want to offend her, and I wasn’t sure yet if she was just eccentric or actually a little crazy.

“Don’t just feel what your hand feels, feel what the water feels. Put your awareness into the water.”

I pushed the pain out of my mind, and pictured the water around my fingers. Felt the current swirling and rushing around my hand, and reached into it with my mind. I imagined flowing downstream with the water, tumbling over small rocks and rushing with a cold, persistent charge.

Then I felt it. Something.

“There,” Eilith said. “You feel that?” She must have read it on my face.

“Yes, I think so.” I felt a slight tingling, an energy.

As if the stream had become an extension of my arm, and I could feel its movement like the movement of my own muscles or the senses of my own nerves.

I could feel what the water itself felt.

It was relentless, forceful. Moving with steady, graceful power.

The kind of power that can tear down mountains.

“What is that?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed and trying to hold my focus on the feeling.

“That, my dear, is Source.”

I opened my eyes and the feeling dropped. Slipped through my awareness and dissipated, like the water pouring through my fingers. I was suddenly and painfully aware of my frozen, aching hand.

I was reminded of what I had felt in my kitchen, standing there with my mother when I returned with the sealskin cloak. It was that same energy that had been suspended between us in the air so briefly, and then had crashed back into the earth and flowed away.

“Try this,” Eilith said. She brushed away snow and ice until moss showed green beneath. She dug her fingers into it.

I did the same, closing my eyes and searching with my awareness as I had before.

This time, the feeling seemed to leap to my fingers.

Bright, green, and quick. Buzzing with the potent, packed energy of spring.

Like a tiny seed about to burst forth into leaves and growth.

I smiled, and opened my eyes to look at Eilith. My jaw dropped.

She was kneeling on the ground in the center of a full circle of glowing mushrooms. They grew taller, expanding as I watched, bathing her face in a luminous pale blue glow as they reached up toward the trees.

I stared, awestruck, not a clue what to say.

Eilith laughed at the look on my face, seeming delighted at her little show. “It has been a long time since I could share this with anyone.”

“This is incredible. Eilith, how?”