44 - Elred's Keep
1473 Words
(Cam)
“We are looking for a man going by the name of Elred; we have questions that we were told he knows the answer to.”
The booming voice laughed; it surrounded us and sent a shiver down my spine. Nisha stepped toward me as if she wouldn’t be the one protecting me from whatever this turned out to be. I didn’t respond, waiting for the voice to say anything.
“Who sent you?” They asked.
“You don’t know?” I countered.
“They wouldn’t have sent you here.”
“We come in peace. We just have a few questions.” I held my hands up, hoping whatever this was could see.
“About what?” The voice snarled; it seemed to crawl on the ground and hover in the trees.
“Nymphs,” I responded. The truth was always the best.
The voice didn’t come again. Instead, the buttery clearing flickered and showed a small brown cottage in a clearing with the first sign of dusk overhead, making the space under the trees seem darker.
The door creaked open. “Come in,” a woman called.
I looked at Nisha, who shrugged and took a step in. I forgot this was far more familiar to her than what she might find even at our packhouse.
“I swear,” I mumbled as we walked up to the picturesque cabin, “your life is like a fairytale.”
She snorted. “One of those evil ones that teaches kids not to go out at night, maybe.”
I glanced around the clearing; it was quiet but not silent, and the sounds of the forest seemed quieter as if there were a barrier. There were clear, worn paths around the cottage from where whoever lived here would do their daily activities, but this place reeked of magic. I couldn’t trust my senses.
“Well, hurry up,” a woman, definitely older, said. She peered through the open door and crossed her arms. “I’m not open. He’s not here. Take your pick.”
“You made us go through all of that to tell us he’s not here?” Nisha asked, flipping her moonlight hair over her shoulder and crossing her arms.
The woman looked up at her with something like disdain. “Yes,” she decided.
Nisha stood tall. “When he will return?” she asked.
“I doubt he will,” the woman spat, her face contorting. “He hasn’t been here for months; whoever told you this information was wrong.”
“Can you try to help us?” I asked, and her withered face met mine. “We just want answers.”
“Please,” Nisha added, her voice soft.
The woman’s lips pursed, but she waved us in.
The cottage was homey, comfortable, small. It was all faded wood, but the windows and the crackling fireplace kept it bright.
Nisha and I took a seat, but she continued to bustle about in a place that looked like a kitchen or workshop, possibly both. The woman didn’t say anything for a long while, as if she had forgotten we were there.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
She sneered at me. “Names have power, pup.”
I glanced at Nisha, but she just looked like she was trying not to laugh.
“Do you know what I am?” Nisha asked.
“Yes,” the woman replied, “But why you are here is the story I want to know. Alone.” She finally plopped herself down across from us. The rickety chair creaked with the effort.
“I just found out what I was, and I want to know about my kind. I, er, we thought we were some sort of hybrid witches.” I shrugged.
The woman barked a loud laugh, and Nisha stilled. I wanted to reach out to her, but I didn’t think this was the time.
“How many of you are there?”
“My sisters and I made four. I left, and another remains.”
“Only four now?” The woman muttered, her weathered brows pulling together. “You left?” She looked incredulous.
“Yes,” Nisha said.
The woman let out a long breath and settled back into her chair, looking completely breakable.
“You travel with the sun witch.” The woman asked, but it was more of a statement.
“Yes,” Nisha responded quickly. "Have we crossed paths?"
"No." The woman waved her hand as if Nisha had asked the d.umbest question. “When did you leave?”
“A few weeks, closer to a month now, I think.”
The woman studied her as if deciding whether to believe her.
“He betrayed me. I’m not sure why, but he did,” the woman admitted. I blinked at the sudden change of topic.
When she opened her eyes, the wariness was gone. She had the enthusiasm and fire back in her. “That wizard b.astard sold me out, and I have half a mind to sell him out. But no, you’re too close, sister.” She spat on the floor.
She stood and went back to cooking or making something. “Always kept me in the dark, that rat b.astard. You give your best centuries to a man, and then what? Runs off with a little tart, not that she would give him the time of day, but still. What’s wrong with growing old?”
I glanced at Nisha, who had her brows furrowed and was chewing on her lip. A bright green light came from the kitchen, and I almost jumped.
“Need help with anything?” I called.
The woman peered over the bowl in her hands. “You trying to be funny, dog?”
“Actually, just polite,” I replied truthfully.
“Hmm.” She went back to what she was doing, muttering and mumbling. “What do you know of what Soleil is searching for?” She was in front of us faster than I thought possible.
Nisha sat back and shook her head. “I’m unsure of what our, their, next task is. We were going to move again, but I don’t know anything else. I just, I just follow them,” she admitted quietly, looking at her hands.
“And what did she have you do?” The woman stepped closer to Nisha, and I instinctively leaned forward.
“Small things mostly.” Nisha glanced at me. “Just in exchange for room.”
“What is your power?”
“Darkness,” Nisha responded, letting out some of her soft shadows dance around the room.
The woman’s eyes widened like the innkeepers did in awe. “Beautiful,” she breathed, reaching up to them.
“Can you tell us what you know about nymphs?” Nisha said after a moment.
The woman snapped back to herself. “I was kept in the dark too, mostly.”
My lips formed a thin line. That wasn’t an answer. Nothing this woman said was, but she seemed more amiable toward Nisha, so I would try to keep my mouth shut.
“I don’t know much about these modern nymphs.” She motioned to Nisha. “Why you were made or how.” The woman’s face soured.
“What do you mean modern nymphs?” I asked. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Nymphs that weren’t born or given to this world depends what story you believe,” the woman said, still looking at Nisha.
“Nymphs that were made,” Nisha repeated, “I know I was made, not born.”
“You had to have been born once; everything is.”
“But you just said some nymphs, or eh, old nymphs, were given to this world.”
“More like goddesses, if you believe in that. They are old creatures, closer to gods, and would have been worshipped like them if paths crossed.” The woman answered and went back to her kitchen.
I looked at Nisha, who looked just as confused as I felt.
“So the nymphs are gone?” I asked slowly.
She stopped chopping. “They should be.” She looked at Nisha with pursed lips.
“Then why aren’t they?”
“The follies of power, not wanting to go when your part has been played.” She waved the knife around.
“What are you not telling us?” I demanded. The room went icy as I unleashed my aura.
Her eyes turned to slits. “I don’t know much, but I know that if she.” She pointed the knife to Nisha. “Has left them she shouldn’t return.”
I looked at Nisha; her eyes were wide, and her beautiful mouth hung open.
- Writer
