Magic and Muddling

CHAPTER EIGHT

Divine’s eyes opened, squinting at the sun peeking over the tree line. For a moment, she took in the brilliant sunrise splaying out from the branches.

Then everything came rushing back.

She rolled over to find Saph sleeping next to her. The tavern owner’s chest rose and fell with each breath and Divine mouthed a silent thank you to her Goddess.

Divine touched Saph’s face and spoke her name; softly at first then louder until her eyes opened. She bolted up on her elbows and looked around.

“The ursavara—”

“It’s gone.”

“It bit me…” Saph trailed off as she examined the blood stains.

Divine nodded. “I healed you. Passed out but looks like I stopped the bleeding—”

“This is a lot of blood—”

“But, I think our horses are gone.”

“Damn. Viktor is going to be furious.” Saph pushed herself upright. “I might be a little rusty at adventurers, but I didn’t think it would be this bad on our first night. Glad I picked you for this adventure, though. Note to self, always bring a healer.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve only ridden on wagons organized by travel firms. Or horses between close towns. I didn’t think…” Divine hesitated as Saph studied her hand, turning it over slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you do this?” Saph wiggled her fingers.

Divine frowned then realization struck like a thorn prick. She beamed at Saph. “Your hand! I didn’t think it was possible to regrow! I was only trying to stop the flow. I’ve never reached so far into my well—”

“It’s normal.”

“What do you—”

“It’s normal ,” Saph snarled. “What, was my deformity too much for you that you had to fix that while you were at it?”

Divine looked at the two hands Saph held up before her. Ten perfect fingers. Her eyes went wide.

“I…no, I was trying to save your life,” Divine pleaded as Saph rose. “It just happened. You were bleeding out!”

She reached for Saph’s hand, but the woman pulled back.

“I’m going to clean myself off at the river. And hopefully nothing ate our clothes, too.” She turned and stalked away.

Divine took no pleasure in watching Saph’s muscular legs and bare buttocks walk away. She busied herself with rekindling the fire, cleaning up their campsite, and rolling up their blankets.

Divine’s mind wandered in her tasks. She couldn’t believe her magic had regrown Saph’s hand, but she’d seen the result with her own eyes. And her magic well had far more depth than she remembered. Using magic had always smelled like her talisman, or specifically the rose petals within. But it had never smelled so overwhelming; the citrus hints were always minor. Ever since being reunited with the necklace, the scent had been strongly present, growing obnoxiously more potent at times even when she wasn’t using her well. She wondered if her magic was warning her something bad might be on the way.

As Saph approached with slower steps than when she left, Divine didn’t turn around. The warmth of the fire in front of her gave contrast to the cold at her back. Travel bags thudded on the ground by the flames, throwing dust into the morning light like glitter.

“Horses bolted. Supplies were eaten or unsalvageable. Our clothes were still there, thankfully.” Saph’s voice held less of her earlier venom as Divine’s clothes dropped in a heap next to her. “Dried and river-scented. At least we won’t reek.” Saph plopped herself on the ground next to Divine.

Divine glanced out of the corner of her eye at Saph as Divine tugged on her pants and boots. The sun stabbed her eyes as it rose further over the treetops and she looked away. Finishing with her own jacket and fully clothed again, a mental barrier as much as physical against the world, Divine was ready to try to explain herself. Before she could open her mouth, Saph spoke.

“When I was little, my parents tried to hide how my hand looked by making me wear gloves everywhere. Custom made for fused fingers, they had built in attachments that made it look like I had five separate fingers. My parents told everyone my skin was sensitive to the sun. That everything had to be covered. The expression people made, looking from my brown face to my obviously lying parents…” She shook her head, then examined her new hand. “Once, while playing in the alley near the market, some made-up game, I took off the gloves. The kids noticed. There was shrieking and laughter and no going back after that.”

The fire popped, sending sparks into the air that fizzled into ash; less brilliant now in the daylight. Divine remembered Saph mentioning mean children when they were in the autumn market.

“Not long after, I wandered into a smith’s shop. He had lost the last two fingers on his hand from a forge accident. Probably not a very good smith to have that happen but, I was drawn to him. For days I stalked his shop, watching how he moved nearly as fast and as precise as any other smith. His products just as good despite his hand. Whether he took pity on me or felt a camaraderie I don’t know, but he invited me in and eventually, I worked for him. Years passed and I became good enough to craft that.” She gestured with a flick of her wrist at the blue-gipped axe on the ground.

“My parting gift.” She shook her head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. When I was sixteen, I had an…encounter with three boys. They told me my hands were only good for pleasing girls, because…” she made a suggestive gesture into the air, her fingers together as if they were still fused. “Anyway, I attacked them and well, three against one was roughly an even fight. Won this prize out of it.” She pointed to her patch. “By the time I was able to peel myself from the ground to get to a healer, it was too late to save my eye. And the loss of accurate vision and woeful depth perception made it impossible for me to continue my work with the blacksmith. Too dangerous, he said. He didn’t have time to watch everything I did for my safety and the quality of his work, so he dismissed me.”

Divine nodded, earlier pieces of the story starting to fall in place. “And that’s when you started playing cards?”

Saph snorted. “Almost. My parents meant well, but they were overprotective. Wanted me to stay inside. Find some sort of trade I could do without having to step out on the street. But that wasn’t who I was. I couldn’t stay with them anymore. I had some acquaintances from the shadier side of town and figured, ‘who better to help me take advantage of my situation?’ I stayed with them. They used me, of course, but I learned from them. People’s wallets are loose when they find you alluring. Flaunt what you have, add an intriguing eyepatch, and suddenly you fulfill their pirate fantasies.”

Divine’s eyes narrowed as invisible hands clinched her chest.

“Flirting got me a long way, darling. Dancing across tables and around poles was the majority of what I was doing. Don’t look so jealous.”

Divine almost laughed. Although she was jealous—every inch of her skin bristling—Divine was glad to see Saph’s attitude slip back more into herself. She also recognized the privilege of intimacy given.

Saph continued, glancing at Divine more and more, causing flutterwing flips in her stomach as her story continued. “I got a bit of coin stored up, but I wanted more. That’s when I thought maybe mercenary work would pay well. I trained with my axe. There’s this group of melee experts from Thosporium, west side of the mountains, that the mercenaries all use. They have a training ground near the south gate.” She thumbed the direction. “But there was too much drama in mercenary work and too many times the guild wanted me to travel to other cities. And the paperwork. ”

Divine raised an eyebrow. “I thought mercenaries were allowed to exist outside the laws?”

“To some extent,” Saph said. “A hand of justice accessible to the people.”

“Law enforcement without involving the agents of the Goddess of Condemnation,” Divine muttered.

The Holicratic Council certainly loved to document everything in each city-state. Arosia as the government’s nerve center, was a prime example of tracking the daily goings-on.

“Oh, it wasn’t the city council’s records. The guild wanted to rank each member on a set of standards. How much notoriety you instilled being one of them. That’s how I know I was one of the best. Really, though, I’d grown up here and traveling all over Trelvania, or the whole of Alistraysia, wasn’t something I wanted to do then. Then I happened upon a bar one night, while locating a thief who stole a scrying bowl that looked into the bedroom of a…” Saph waved her hands. “That doesn’t matter. The tavern was full of people. People with weird scars, a missing ear, normal people, and people who fidgeted too much. There was laughter and music and, in the corner, an animated game of Crossroads George.”

Saph’s paused, the unspoken acknowledgment Divine already knew the rest hung as silence between them. The woman wove her black hair back into a braid as she rotated toward Divine and looked her in the eye. “What I’m trying to say is…how I was born has shaped who I’ve become. All the actions I took were influenced by the shape of my hand. And for that to be taken away…it’s like it’s erased that history. It invalidates my struggles, admits that something was wrong with me, even changes what makes me who I am.”

“Saph, I didn’t realize.” Divine stretched a hand out tentatively, looking for an appropriate place to rest her hand but pulled back.

Saph nodded. “How could you have? We haven’t gotten that far in our exchange of personal history.”

Tentatively, Divine brushed her magic and opened herself to feel Saph’s emotion. There was still hurt there, but anger was merely a coiled shadow. Given the wrong response, it could spring up again.

Divine swallowed. “Still, I am sorry. I never meant to reshape you. I didn’t want you to die. Your wounds were…” Divine blinked back tears.

“And the wounds of my past were not buried as deep as I had believed. My response to you was spurred by that soreness. You healed me and for that I am thankful. I do have one request, however.”

Divine nodded vehemently, leaning closer. “Anything.”

“Return my hand to how it was. Well, before it was bitten off, I mean.”

Divine’s heart caught in her throat like a bite of an apple too large to swallow. “I…I don’t know how I did it. But I can try.” Divine held out her hand and with the briefest of hesitation, Saph placed her hand palm to palm.

Divine reached into her well, poking as she searched for the furthest reaches of the dark. Despite her attempt at a calm approach into her magic, she foundered like she was flailing in water. What she was attempting to do was not healing and without any knowledge of the power of alteration, her mind snapped up like a bucket on a string, empty.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” She shook her head. “But I’ll keep trying. Just…I don’t want to make it worse so maybe I should practice on something that’s not flesh and bones.”

Saph nodded once then pushed hands against her knees and stood up. “I guess we better get walking. There should be a few farmhouses along the road. Maybe we can see if they would be willing to part with food to get us back to the city.”

Divine saw Saph’s disappointment in the way she turned her back to her, gazing back toward the overgrown road.

“You don’t think we could make it to our destination?”

“I don’t like the idea of relying solely on my axe to provide the food we need. Unless you can conjure up some bread and tomatoes?”

Divine’s shoulders sagged. “That would be the Harvesters of the Goddess of Fields.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Saph stepped forward, leaving Divine to follow. Groaning at her stiff legs, Divine rose and trailed Saph at a distance.

* * *

They didn’t have to wander down the dusty road far before a house appeared. It stood on the horizon behind a lake, which wafted a morning haze like steam from a cooking pan.

The fields were mostly picked bare and, where larger vegetable vines and plants would have been, grew sparse weeds. Divine couldn’t see anyone tending the fields, which wasn’t surprising given the last harvest was likely past. She wondered if they suffered from the black spot and motioned for Saph to veer with her into the plowed rows.

The air smelled of dewy earth and underneath it, she detected the faint scent of rose from her talisman. Nothing like it had been earlier this morning. Divine found a clump of pumpkins rotting black, their tops caved in. A few leaves on the vines had black spots. Across the field several other clumps appeared the same, but not widespread. Divine shrugged and led them to the lane to the dwelling.

The two women approached the farmhouse, its winding path lined with trees beginning to show burgundy and yellow amidst their green leaves. Saph knocked at the door a step above the ground while Divine stood behind her, letting her take lead.

They waited several minutes, whispering about whether to try a back door or if it was too early, then as Saph raised her fist to rap again, the door squeaked open.

Divine couldn’t see who opened the door, but a distant male voice came from within, inquiring who was at the door this early.

“Just a traveler, love.” Another voice, closer and just behind the door, made Divine’s body rigid. Her breath caught in her throat. Though Saph blocked her view, she knew brown hair was tucked behind an ear, revealing the shortened layer at her scalp.

The familiar voice spoke from the door, “What can I do for you?”

“It’s a long story,” Saph replied with a dramatic sigh, “but in short we are without our supplies and our horses, and we’re hoping you have a spare meal or two to help us get back to the city to try this misadventure again.”

“Us?” The voice rose.

Divine found she could breathe again, the scent of sweet velvety petals filling her nose. She pinched her nose against a sneeze before stepping to the side, coming out from behind Saph.

“Hello, Madeline,” Divine’s voice dripped with ice.

The woman’s thin brows raised, sculpted nearly into oblivion over honey eyes. “What are you doing here? You should be further—” she glanced toward the road.

“Ah, so this is Madeline.” Saph leaned forward, nearly poking her head through the door’s threshold. “Tell me, should I prepare myself for a surprise or do you do all of your betrayings at night?”

Divine could see Madeline’s defenses go up, as her sun-kissed face moved from shocked wide-eyes into a furrowed brow. Now that she knew what Madeline was, Divine prepared herself for the attempts at persuasion and mind-muddling—characteristics of the agents of the Goddess of Condemnation. She touched her well and took a drink, letting the cool water wash over herself like a protective glaze, hoping to have anything villainous bounce off. She stretched the thin layer over Saph as well, the usual garden perfume delicately accenting the air she breathed.

Madeline looked down her thin nose from the higher step of the house. “We have plenty of stores from the harvest. We could part with them easily enough.” She paused, flicking her charcoaled eyes to Divine then back to Saph. “You could even take enough to reach your destination.”

Saph’s eyebrow raised. “And what would we owe for this…convenience?”

Divine clutched her talisman before she realized what she was doing. Madeline glanced at her then rolled her eyes as if to say it was worth nothing to her. Her brown hair shifted as a breeze blew across the threshold, revealing the twin line and downward V etched into the short hair behind her ear.

“Let’s say the equivalent meals at your tavern, plus drinks, when we want them.”

Divine blinked. The trade seemed reasonable, though more in the favor of the two women questors as they’d be getting their food immediately. Did Saph already tell Madeline she owned a tavern? Divine wracked her brain to find what she was missing, what angle was being played by the agent of Condemnation. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Every time she thought her mind was focusing, the thought slipped away. What had she been thinking about?

The proposal accepted, Madeline disappeared into the house and returned with two sacks filled with potatoes, oats, other longer lasting legumes and root vegetables. Before long, they pulled and bumped their way down the lane.

“You didn’t tell me she was a farmer,” Saph commented, back on the road.

Divine shrugged. “I didn’t know she was. Not that anything she ever told me was true, but something seems…off about this. Like she knew we’d be on the road.”

Divine looked back at the wagon behind them, trying to remember what they had agreed upon for the fair use of a cart usually pulled by horses. And had they really not spoken to Madeline any more than what her memory was telling her? There were so many things she wanted to say to the woman who had stolen her heart for spite.

Saph’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “It was suspect that she assumed she had enough supplies to get us where we are going. We didn’t tell her…did we?”

Divine groaned. “I think we’ve been muddled. I tried to place a ward over us, but I must have stretched it too thin and some of her magic seeped through. We’ll likely remember more in the next few days.”

“Hopefully we’ll solve the mystery of the chest and have our reward and nothing of this will really matter.”

“Hopefully.” Divine brushed her nose, though she wasn’t filled with much hope. And pulling a supply cart by their own muscles was not on the original list of adventures.

She looked behind them. The road had turned slightly, and the horizon was a line of colorful trees. Soundlessly, dark brown specks rose from the branches and gathered like a cloud above the foliage of yellows and reds. Divine always forgot the natural magic they seemed to possess this time of year. The flock undulated—a murmuration—connected by that unknown force that birds had like an invisible string between them, dancing as if they were a ribbon whipping on the wind or caught in a rippling current of a river, waving for help as they surged closer to a precipice.