Mixing Magic [Draft 2]: Chapter 5.2

An hour later, Ayda flew back to the Oak and was put to work by Cinder, having dimmed her magical vision until it was only a sixth sense again. It was beautiful, but too distracting to be left on all the time.

By the time she finished scanning through three dense books and noting down a few dozen references to portals she only sort of understood, it was well past dinner and the evening was wearing on. The room had been silent for hours. Except for a brief flurry when a dryad had come in with food, there was no sound except the rustling of paper and the swishing of tails.

Ayda glanced over at Cinder, who was buried in a book thicker than Ayda was tall. He went about his work with an almost unnerving intensity, and yet at the same time she was drawn to it.

As if he had felt Ayda watching him, Cinder lifted his head and looked at Ayda. “Finished?”

She nodded. “It’s well after dusk. They’ve lit the lamps.”

He blinked as if he hadn’t noticed. Then, slowly, he got to his paws. “We’ll leave it here for the night,” he called. Everyone glanced around as if coming out of a deep reverie, and then there was a flurry of voices and activity as books and notes were packed away and information compared.

“It was a slow day today.” Cinder joined Ayda on her way out the door. “With luck, we’ll have something to tell Xaniphe by tomorrow.”

“Why such a small team?” Ayda asked. The library at History Oak was ridiculous. It would take a team this size years to look through even a small selection of books. How did they do this every day? She was already exhausted.

“One reason is secrecy,” Cinder admitted. “But the other is that there is always too much to do during a crisis.”

He paused on the landing. “You’re free for the rest of the evening, Ayda. But remember — stay in History Oak or in the gardens. Don’t wander.”

She nodded, flying over the railing and up. As she left, a leprechaun rushed up to Cinder, who was descending the stairs, and begin to whisper urgently in his ear. What was the news? It didn’t seem good. But Ayda put it out of her mind, hurrying to her room and picking up the bag that held her carving.

Then she opened the window and flew out, beyond the hedges that marked the gardens and into Crescent Moon proper to look for the Artisan’s Ebony.

As she flew, a voice whispered inside her, shaming her for reneging on her promise to the Lord and Lady. They had put their trust in her, and now she was breaking it? And what if they found out?

But she needed to enter that contest. And Ayda knew she wasn’t going to tell anyone anything important, and that was the whole reason they had told her to stay. Doing this wouldn’t hurt anybody, and she wouldn’t need to do it again after submitting her piece.

She passed another fairy in midair and asked for directions. He pointed her to the left, saying the Artisan’s Ebony was on the other side of Crescent Moon, past the central willow. Ayda gritted her teeth — it was so far! She had hoped not to be gone so long.

But she had overestimated the size of Crescent Moon, and it took her less than ten minutes to find the Artisan’s Ebony. The great-tree grew right next to Crescent Moon’s wall. A large courtyard surrounded it, lined with several buildings, two of which were definitely blacksmiths. The whole area glowed with firemoss, and through the blacksmiths’ windows Ayda could see the flickering light of real fire. A dirt road connected the courtyard to the rest of Crescent Moon.

Even at this hour, there were people crossing back and forth between buildings. Squinting in the dim light, Ayda approached the first stationary person she saw — a female dwarf stacking boxes beside one of the buildings.

Ayda landed beside the dwarf and heaved one of the smaller boxes into her arms, pushing it onto the stack with the others.

The dwarf spun. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m Ayda.” Ayda held her right palm facing outward in the common dwarven greeting. “I thought I’d give you some help.”

The dwarf’s beard twitched, and she returned the gesture. “It is well met. I’m Karjal. What do you need?”

Ayda decided her best approach was to be honest. “I’m new to Crescent Moon,” she said, lifting a second box. “I’m a sculptor, and I heard there was a contest to win an apprenticeship?”

Karjal’s face fell. “You’re too late, honey. Entries closed at dusk yesterday.”

Ayda had been afraid of that, and it still hit her like a punch to the stomach. All of this — running away, getting Madeline here, sneaking off, for this? Only to be told at the end that she would never even get a chance?

Ayda turned away, her wings drooping. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t suppose there is another way to become an apprentice?”

“There’s the usual way,” Karjal said, watching Ayda closely. “With references and letters of recommendation. But I’m guessing you don’t have those.”

Ayda shook her head.

Karjal lowered her voice. “There may be a similar contest starting very soon,” she said. “Rumor has it that another master is looking for an apprentice and would like to be a bit unconventional. How long are you here at Crescent Moon?”

“As long as I need to be,” said Ayda.

“Then you should have another chance.”

Ayda grinned, her spirits suddenly restored. This would work — it would give her more time to refine the piece, even. “Thank you for the help,” she said.

The dwarf smiled. “Don’t thank me. I was in your position, once — it’s the least I can do. Good luck, Ayda.”

“Thank you,” Ayda said again, and then she hoisted her bag agin, turned on her heel and flew away. She would have been away from the Oak for all of twenty minutes — surely nobody would have noticed her absence.

-

She was wrong.

Ayda had just left the courtyard behind and was flying down the dirt path when a shadow slipped out of the bushes and began to pad along underneath her. Ayda glanced at it, and was at first only mildly surprised to see another Shade in Crescent Moon. Then the Shade looked up and Ayda’s heart nearly stopped.

It was Cinder. He called up to her, his expression unreadable, “So. Thought we’d take a walk tonight, did we? Were the gardens too small for you?”

Ayda blushed hotly, mind racing for something to say. There was no way to make this look like an accident — she was clear on the other side of Crescent Moon.

“How about you come down here and we talk about this,” Cinder said, his tail-tip twitching. His eyes were cold and hard.

She flew down until she was on eye level with him. He continued walking, slowly, and she flew alongside him.“I’m sorry.” She looked away. “But I had another reason to come here. There was something I had to do, and it had to be tonight. I won’t leave again.”

He continued walking in silence, saying nothing, his countenance unchanging, until Ayda couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m a sculptor, okay?” she said, unbuttoning her bag and pulling it open as she spoke. “Except at home I can only apprentice to a carpenter, and I don’t want that. I heard there was a contest to win an sculpting apprenticeship here, so I went to the Artisan’s Ebony to enter this in it.”

And she thrust the sculpture of the Shade at Cinder. He stopped and studied it.

“That is a beautiful piece,” he said, ears sweeping forwards. “And thank you for telling the truth.”

“You believe me?” Ayda said, shocked. Then a suspicion crept through her. “How long have you been following me?”

Cinder pulled his teeth back in a grin and stretched his front paws out, satisfied. “Check your magical vision,” he suggested.

Ayda closed her eyes and concentrated, sliding into her magical vision. When she opened her eyes and looked down at herself, she saw a magical tether wrapped around her, tinged such a dark purple it was almost a velvet black. It connected directly back to Cinder’s chest, where it joined the mass of energy inside him.

“You put this on me?” Ayda’s voice caught in her throat. How had she not sensed it?

He nodded. “Just as we were leaving for the evening. Xaniphe asked me to, to make sure we’d know if you went anywhere. I wasn’t expecting to have to follow it.”

“I’m sorry,” Ayda said again. “But you’ve been following me the whole time? Then you know I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

“I heard everything you said to the dwarf,” Cinder confirmed. And I suppose all of that could have been some kind of secret code, but frankly I think that’s too complicated, even for Nadra.”

“So what are you going to do with me?” A dozen unpleasant possibilities raced through her mind. Keep her under guard? Lock her up? They couldn’t send her home now.

“I don’t know,” said Cinder. “You deliberately ignored our request.”

“I won’t do it again. I don’t have a reason to do it again.”

“Not even when the next contest rolls around?”

Ayda didn’t have an answer to that.

Cinder sighed. “You could have asked for an escort.”

Shame filled Ayda again. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I know.” They walked on for a minute. “How long have you been sculpting?” Cinder asked.

“A few years,” Ayda said, relieved that he didn’t seem to be mad at her anymore. “It started as a pastime on the road.” She explained about her parent’s business and how they traveled during the spring and summer, then about their plans for her to apprentice to Bivale. How the contest was a last resort.

“And in the middle of all this, your parents were okay with you just taking a detour here by yourself?”

“Well, no,” Ayda admitted. “I sort of ran away. They never even saw Madeline.”

Cinder whistled. “What’ll you do when you go back?”

“I don’t know. I was only expecting to be gone for a few days.” Her stomach churned at the thought of the letter that was probably making its way towards her right now.

“I think soon they be more relieved you’re safe than angry you’re here,” Cinder said, suddenly somber.

“Why?” Ayda said, alarmed.

“Because the rumors aren’t rumors anymore,” Cinder said, plodding along without looking at her. “We just received the first confirmed reports of large-scale Shade attacks. Two small towns northwest of Nikka. Only a handful escaped.”

A lump had formed in Ayda’s throat. “Dead?”

“We don’t think so, but we’re unsure.” Cinder’s lips drew back into a snarl. “She left a large contingent at both towns — she wouldn’t have needed to if all the inhabitants were dead.”

“And you think she’s moving east?”

“Yes.”

“But why do any of this?” Ayda asked. “Last time it was because she hated the Elves. What does she want now?”

Cinder shrugged. “Power.”

It was an unsatisfactory answer, but maybe he didn’t have another. “Are more Shades being taken?”

He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Every day.”

Ayda finally voiced her concern. “Is it… safe for you?”

Cinder kneaded the earth with his claws. “I can be taken just like any other Shade. Is it safe for me to be here? I’m a historian. I specialize in our species’ history. I was sent from Neleluna specifically to help.”

“I’m sorry,” Ayda said quickly.

“No,” he said, relaxing. “It’s a reasonable concern. My wife didn’t want me to come because of it. She thought it would put me in danger. The only thing I can tell you is that if I were taken, you would know. You’ve seen a turned Shade. I wouldn’t be able to work as a spy, and if she took me here at Crescent Moon, I would be overwhelmed before I could do anything.” He spat her name.

“But Ayda, this research is how I can do something. Maybe I’m just a drop of water in the bucket, maybe we won’t find anything useful, but I don’t want to see my kids possessed.”

“I… didn’t know you had children,” Ayda said, at a loss in the face of his passion and the reality of his fear.

“We had our litter last year.” Cinder’s voice was tender. “Two girls and a boy, all beautiful.”

Ayda had been planning to ask Cinder to teach her more magic, but now she knew that even if he could teach her fairy magic, she couldn’t take him away from his work. What had seemed so boring to her only a few hours before was now revealed as a desperate race against the clock.

They were nearly at History Oak now, and they walked up the winding path in silence. When they reached its towering roots, Cinder paused. “I think this time, Ayda, I don’t need to mention your little outing to Xaniphe. But next time you want to go out, remember we’re not tryingto keep you locked up simply for the sake of it.”

Ayda returned his teasing smile with a serious one. “I will.”