Page 28 of Wind and Water (Reign of the Witch Queen #2)
Chapter Fourteen
Liam
T he centaurs chant while the pyre burns, and they continue for hours. It’s haunting and filled with sorrow. Perhaps if I knew their native language, I would also find the happy memories of Belloc and Toball.
The Martin women sit beside me by the river. We stood with the centaurs for the first hour, but backed away once the smoke became too much for Birdie. She and Wren cried for a long time, but they calmed down and started talking about the events of the day.
“How did you know to throw the water at the light?” Birdie asks.
Wren holds several pieces of grass, and she braids them into an intricate pattern. “I suddenly remembered Mr. Perkins’ lesson on refraction and thought there was nothing to lose.”
“Harold Perkins has a way with words.” Birdie’s voice gets a bit dreamy.
“Momma, did you date Mr. Perkins?”
Birdie blushes. “A few dates, but it was never going to work out, so we went our separate ways.”
I have no idea who this Perkins fellow is, but my curiosity gets the better of me. “Why would it not have worked?”
With a slow, sad smile, Birdie looks me in the eyes. “Martin women only fall in love once, and as long as Wren’s father lives, I’ll never shake him.”
This is stunning and disturbing. Even Wren looks appalled at the idea that Birdie won’t let love into her heart because of a man who left her so long ago. “Do you know that he’s alive?”
Taking the braided grass from Wren’s hand, Birdie admires the pattern.
“His name is Joe Cotton. He lives on the Atchafalaya Basin in Louisiana. He never remarried, but he lives with a woman named Jane. He still spends most of his time on a rig in the Gulf of Mexico, and he is not any more faithful to Jane than he was to me.”
“How do you know all of that?” Wren takes the bracelet and ties it around her mother’s wrist.
“I’ve shamelessly kept tabs over the years, and social media makes that pretty easy now. Maybe I should have given you his name, but I was so angry back then.” She smiles at the rustic jewelry as if it were precious jewels.
Shaking her head, Wren takes her mother’s hand. “No. I’m a Martin. Cotton doesn’t suit. Besides, if he wanted to be part of my life, he’s had twenty-six years to find me right where he left us.”
“These men in your world are mad.” I’ll never understand any man giving up either of these women.
“Are all elves faithful?” Birdie asks with her usual openness.
“No. Not all relationships are based on trust and loyalty,” I admit. “It’s only my belief that you are worth staying for, my friend.”
She kisses my cheek. “You are biased, son. I’ll not scold you for it, though.”
The chanting gets softer, and the centaurs begin walking in a circle around the pyre.
Sensing the end of the long ceremony, we three stand.
Taking Wren’s hand, I feel her sorrow renewed. My ability to push death to the back of my mind is curtailed by seeing it through her eyes.
Wasting no time, we ride on in silence for the remainder of the day. It’s only when the centaurs admit to growing weary that we finally stop.
I thank Pallon for transporting me. His long blond hair hangs around his face as he looks at the ground. He’s thinking of Belloc, as am I. “It was my honor, Son of Riordan.”
Not sure what else needs to be said, I remove the thick blanket from his back and lay it with the ones for Birdie and Wren. I wish I had words like my mother in these situations. If I've learned nothing else, I know there is nothing that will mend the pain of loss. Only time heals such wounds.
As we sit around heated rocks and eat, Wren asks, “Why is the witch queen able to use her magic so extensively without killing herself?”
“No one knows. We surmise that she needs rest and must restore her power; otherwise, she would keep attacking, but it took her three days to gain enough power after calling the demon from Coire before she could direct her shadow demons.”
“I would think it would take a great deal of magic to manipulate so many for so long.” Wren finishes her food and tosses her leaf into the heat of the stones. It sizzles and burns up in a moment.
Corell says, “There are those who say she pulls dark magic from Coire. After seeing that fire demon, I don’t doubt that is true.”
Wellon adds deer meat to the rocks, and it sizzles, its scent filling the air. “I have heard she steals magic from those she turns to shadow, and if she cannot turn them, she kills them.”
“Some say it is her lovers who supply her with extra magic and life force,” Jadar adds.
“Magic can be stolen?” Birdie asks. “I thought it was part of you, like blood or flesh.”
Maybe it would be wiser to change the subject.
Scaring Wren and her mother even more than the horrors of what they’ve already endured is not my intention.
Still, truth always sits better with me.
“Magic is an integral part of most beings who live in Domhan. It is part of our life, and to lose one’s magic would be similar to going blind, maybe worse. ”
“Do you think she can steal my magic?” Wren holds a small stick and draws in the dirt. I think it’s a design for a pendant, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of light.
I wish I knew the answer. “She will try if she can, but human magic and the human world are foreign to her. She hasn’t quite figured you out yet. If she knew all she needed to, she wouldn’t have kept Birdie alive. She wanted to learn something.”
“Maybe she did.” Birdie rubs her arms as if she caught a chill on the warm night.
“What do you mean?” I pull a blanket out of my pack and wrap it around her shoulders.
Staring at Wren’s drawing, Birdie won’t meet my gaze. “She cast spells and did rituals while she had me. She seemed more frustrated than satisfied, but what do I know? I don’t even have magic.”
Wren wraps her arm about her mother. “I’m sorry I didn’t insist you stay home, Momma. You’d be safe there.”
“Safe, but alone and without any way to know if you were alive or dead. No. I couldn’t have borne that, baby girl.
I brought you into this world, and I’ll defend the right of that until my dying breath.
I’ll not be back in Texas with no idea if I’ll ever see you again.
I’d suffer a thousand hours with that horrible witch rather than leave you.
” She lays her head on Wren’s shoulder and closes her eyes.
“I don’t know about the magic.” Corell’s voice is soft, and he smiles gently at the humans. “But the love of parent for child is the same as what we have here among the centaurs.”
It’s two more days to the point where the main river splits.
The Giants’ Bridge is within sight, and figures are crossing over the stone bridge.
Its name comes from the heavy rocks that look as if they could only have been set in place by giants.
In reality, no one knows who built the ancient bridge that has stood for a thousand suns.
Before I can pull my sword in case defense is necessary, the centaurs break into a gallop and start calling out the names of their loved ones from the village. A moment before, they’d been dragging and tired. Now they are imbued with a sudden burst of energy.
Farress stands on this side of the bridge, making sure each male, female, and foal crosses safely. Her blond hair blows in the wind. She turns in our direction, and even at this distance, her eyes brighten, and a broad smile shows off her beauty.
Suddenly out of place, I slip from Pallon’s back and give the centaurs some privacy for their reunion.
I find Wren, and we walk to the river. She splashes water on her face, then wipes it with the shoulder of her short-sleeve shirt. “I’m happy to see the others are alright.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the bridge, and we sit on the stones where they meet land. “I’m sure it’s a great relief to them all to reunite.”
She cups my cheek. “You must miss your family.”
Birdie does not attempt to give the centaurs space. She hugs and greets them as if she has always been part of their community.
Farress embraces her for a long time with tears running down her face.
“I am a soldier. I am often away from home for months at a time.” Still, I worry about my brothers and pray they are already back in Tús Nua, safe and with the humans they were sent to collect.
They will be preparing to harass me about how long it took me to complete the mission.
I kiss Wren’s palm. She’s so much more than a set of orders. She’s everything.
“You know, Liam, you don’t always have to pretend to be impervious. At least, not for my sake.” She taps the side of her head, and her smile is soft and teasing.
Everything about her feeds my soul. “I miss them, and I’ll be happy to get home. Now that the centaurs and your mother are safe, I will speak with Corell about our departure from the party. There’s a portal not far from here. We could be home sooner.”
“You want to leave them?” Horror and disappointment register like a blinking sign on her face.
Leaning over, I kiss her forehead. “It’s you the witch queen wants, my love.
The centaurs will be safer if we are away from them.
Venora shouldn’t be able to use her magic on this continent, but clearly, she’s found ways around the oracle’s magic.
The farther away from these people we are, the better off they’ll be, and they’ll have a better chance of reaching the capital city. ”
“How do you know your city is safe?”
It’s a fair question. “I can only hope the magic my mother and the oracle use to protect Tús Nua is holding better than that which is meant to protect this part of Domhan. For thirty years, the witch queen and her magic have been contained on the eastern continent. I don’t know how she has breached the wards. ”
Wren leans into my side and rests her head on my chest. “Will you think less of me if I admit I’m afraid?”
“I’d think you foolish if you were not.” I wrap my arm around her and pull her tight.