27. Tahlia

The old woman’s gnarled, glowing hands moved slow and sure as she knitted red woolen yarn. A few finished pieces lay folded at her hem on the mossy ground. Tahlia’s breath caught at the beauty of the goddess. The weight of the goddess’s presence was akin to the sensation of Marius’s attention. Like a warm cloak had been draped across her shoulders and she’d downed a cup of crystal wine.

Tahlia glanced at Marius. Was his skin glowing slightly as well? She blinked and the sparkling of his cheeks and forehead was gone.

The goddess lifted her knobby chin and regarded the group with a pair of dark, luminous doe eyes. They were larger than a Fae’s eyes and glossy like an animal’s. The effect should have been frightening, but instead, only wonder poured through Tahlia’s soul.

She slipped from the saddle, helped Fara down, then knelt beside Marius, who had also dismounted quickly. Red petals floated down to land on Marius’s shoulders. The petals caught in Tahlia’s hair and snuggled into her palms like small creatures longing for a warm spot to take shelter.

“Good hearts, I greet you,” the goddess said, her lips unmoving but her voice strong and clear. Her accent was not too different from Trevain’s, with strewn-together consonants and slightly rounded vowels. “Come closer and we will talk.”

Marius stood and turned, holding a hand out to Tahlia, less of a helpful task than a simple show of affection.

“Marius…” she started. He had forgotten the curse. She didn’t blame him. The goddess’s presence was enough to make one believe everything had been set to rights in all the realms.

He winced and nodded, withdrawing.

Trevain and Fara joined them, walking alongside Ragewing and Lija.

“Greetings, Mother Twilight,” Trevain said. He kissed his palm, then pressed his hand to the ground near her feet.

Tahlia mimicked the show of respect, then Marius and Fara did as well. The dragons bowed their large heads, eyes shuttering in a display of trust.

Listen closely, my rider,Lija whispered into Tahlia’s mind.

Oh, don’t worry. I feel her power, too.

Good. I worried you might try to entertain her with your latest knock-knock joke.

Tahlia bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“You seek aid against Katk,” the goddess said.

“Aye,” Marius said. “Do you have advice for us?”

“You cannot fight him. Not truly. But you can trap the monster and take him to his champion. You must move quickly. If he leaves this kingdom, he will end all the Mistgold Fae.”

But Ophelia was far beyond this cursed place. “His champion is in the Shrouded Mountains, in the land bordering this one.”

“Then you must trap him tightly. You must be the one to do it,” the goddess said to Tahlia.

“Because of my human blood?”

“Yes, little wise one. He will not seek to plague you. But if Katk creates more varjuline, they will cage you and drain you of blood and spirit to feed themselves. The varjuline are not picky about the blood they consume. They are more animal than Katk and have no reason, only instinct.”

Marius frowned. “Katk has reason? He seems blind with rage and driven by his curse alone.”

“He seeks to finish what his first champion started. It is his calling.”

“What will happen when we bring him to his current champion?” Trevain asked.

“When Katk is released and in the presence of his champion, that soul alone may put him to sleep for good.”

“And if she refuses?” Tahlia asked.

The goddess inclined her head. “Does she want to end the Mistgold Fae?”

“She is of that blood,” Tahlia said.

“Ah. Then you see what will be her motivation to put him in the ground once more.”

But Tahlia could just imagine Ophelia listening to them telling the story. She wouldn’t believe them. She would hesitate. She would get them all killed.

An image of Tahlia standing on a field of bloodied bodies, both Fae and dragon, washed across her mind. She shivered.

The goddess tilted her head, studying Tahlia. “That is only one potential outcome.”

With a pair of heron-winged bone scissors, the goddess cut the yarn, then rose and faced Tahlia. She held out the piece she’d been knitting, a length of red with braided tassels. “I made this for you, Weaver.”

Palms sweating and still filled with petals, Tahlia stepped forward. The goddess tied the piece around Tahlia’s hips. Sparks of magic and the lull of power cocooned Tahlia until the goddess shifted her weight and eyed the belt.

“It fits.” Her dark eyes found Tahlia’s. “Remember who you are here,” she said, touching a spot near Tahila’s heart. “Little doesn’t mean lesser in your case. Cleverly made by the Fire, there isn’t a piece of you that goes to waste. You are the Autumn Weaver.”

“I’m what?”

Mother Twilight just smiled and tapped her chin. “When you wear this belt, you are stronger than Katk. Not in the way of hand or foot, but in the ways that matter more.”

She was lovely and powerful, but perhaps not the best at practical information. “Thank you very much, goddess. How exactly do I go about trapping Katk?”

“You will know.”

The clearing turned to darkness.