Clockwork Goddess (The Lesbia Chronicles) (2 page)

Again Moon and Vix exchanged looks. Ayla could not fathom what was so significant, but she imagined it would come to light soon enough. It was bubbling so close to the surface she could almost taste it.

"You are Kira's friend?" Moon asked the question.

"I have been her friend, her mentor, her healer for many years," Ayla replied.

"So you find her a pleasant character?"

"Pleasant?" Ayla's cheeks dimpled and hollowed as her smile became enigmatic. "Pleasant has never been a word to describe Kira. Brave, bold, loyal..."

"... dangerous?" Vix suggested the word as she passed the pipe back to Ayla.

Ayla drew deeply on the stem, enjoying the blend. It had a mild sedative effect, not enough to make her drowsy, but enough to take the edge off her concern.

"Dangerous? Of course. What is it you want to tell me?"

Vix and Moon exchanged looks. "We are not allowed to tell," Moon said. "We are sworn to secrecy. If we so much as speak a word, Ariadne will have our tongues for a necklace."

"We cannot say a word," Vix echoed. "But we could show you."

"The camp is not all that far," Moon agreed. "A week's travel by foot."

Their expectant, hopeful and concerned looks settled on Ayla. She had seen that look before, it was a look that was only given when someone was desperately in need of help. Taking another puff of the pipe, Ayla considered her options.

Crossing a goddess was not a good idea. Crossing Ariadne in particular was a terrible idea. Once upon a time, Ayla would not have considered it for a moment. Once upon a time she had something to lose. Now she did not. She was alone in the world. That solitude came with a queer freedom, one which bought with it a form of recklessness quite foreign to her nature. Truth be told, she had made her decision more or less the moment Vix made her suggestion.

She looked up, her eyes glinting through the drifting smoke haze. "I will need some time to pack my things."

Chapter Two

"We have the witch on our side." Moon sat in bed next to Vix and elbowed her friend. Ayla's packing was taking an inordinate amount of time. Indeed, according to the witch, she would not be done packing for a full three days. Vix had received the news gratefully. It meant that she might have three days without danger or conflict. Three days respite from the war which raged hither and thither throughout Lesbia.

She nodded in acknowledgment of Moon's words. They did have the witch. Ayla was not what or who she had expected. A twisted angry crone, Ayla was not. The woman was beautiful, sensual, mature... and a dozen more adjectives all of which served to tantalize and excite.

"She's pretty," Moon observed out loud.

Vix made a non-committal grunt.

"Are you going to pretend you don't notice? I tell you what," she said, happily holding both sides of their conversation. "I'll take Kira. You can have Ayla."

Vix made no reply, her agile fingers focused on her whittling. She was so adept at it that nary a wood shaving fell into the bed. Moon was being quite ridiculous. Kira was not interested in either of them, and Ayla would likely not be interested either. Beings like Kira and Ayla were so far above lowly mortals like she and Moon that the idea of them taking more than a passing interest was ludicrous. Might as well hope a star might come down from the heavens and inquire as to how one's day had been.

"We should sleep," she said abruptly, putting her knife aside for the evening. "That is the place for your wild dreams."

*****

The next morning, Vix sat outside the witch's cottage, whittling cogs and wheels as usual. The activity soothed her nerves, which were engaging in a very unpleasant near constant jangling. She was not a woman of war and she did not relish the constant danger she had been compelled to live with over the past months.

"Your talents are impressive." Ayla's resonant voice made the marrow in Vix's bones tingle. How long the witch had been watching, Vix did not know.

"Thank you," Vix said stiffly. She kept her eyes on her work, refusing to look at the witch. It was not proper to look at such an illustrious creature.

A hand on her shoulder made it impossible to ignore Ayla.

"Do you fear me?"

Vix raised her eyes about as far as Ayla's bosom. "Of course."

"Please, do not."

It was not so easily done as said. The witch crackled with power, the air around her was charged with an energy Vix would have loved to harness if such a feat were possible. Fear was the proper reaction when encountering someone so far beyond the realm of the mundane. Vix was not a believer in magic, but she was a strong believer in power. Ayla wielded a great deal of it. Though she lived a simple life far from others, she was one of the most important people in Lesbia.

"You are Ayla," Vix said. "I have heard tales of you all my life."

"I am a simple forest witch with a talent for healing, nothing more."

Vix bowed her head, feigning agreement. If a glittering star wished to call itself a candle flame, so be it. She would not argue, for one did not argue with the heavens. Ayla could declare herself a pork pie and Vix would agree.

There was a soft sigh. "Your fear could prove dangerous," Ayla said, slipping her fingers beneath Vix's chin so that Vix was forced to meet her gaze.

"I'm not afraid of you," Moon said, swinging from a nearby branch. "I am not afraid of anything."

"That's because herbs have dulled the part of your head that allows you to feel fear," Vix said. "At this point, you are more plant than woman."

"Thank you," Moon beamed, "so sweet of you to say."

Vix returned her smile. Moon was a most agreeable sort of person, the perfect companion in times of danger and concern.

"I have taken all the herbs in Lesbia at one time or another," Moon said, changing the subject in a way that relieved Vix of the burden of Ayla's attention. "I have taken them all, and each has left its little leafy mark upon me. I am a part of all that I have eaten."

Glancing up, Vix saw amusement written plainly on the forest witch's face. Ayla found Moon charming, naturally. Moon was very charming. Even if one were to ignore her nudity, which Vix often did, Moon was so cheerful and open to everything the world held that it was impossible not to enjoy her company.

"I think there might be a few you have yet to taste," Ayla said.

"Impossible!"

Ayla's expression of mixed amusement and fondness set off a reactionary pang of jealousy in Vix. She wished the witch would look at her that way, but knew such a thing was out of the question. She was a woman of very little note, a tinker who had stumbled into trouble. She did not have Moon's beauty and charm, or Kira's strength and fortitude, or Ayla's wisdom and charisma. All she had were her little works. And so she renewed her labors whilst Moon began nattering on about all manner of plants and potables.

"Psst!"

Vix looked toward the sound, which came from the corner of the house. A young woman with dirty blonde hair and a wicked expression of glee plastered across her face was standing there. She winked at Vix and waved. Vix did not wave back. Neither Ayla nor Moon seemed to notice the interloper as she walked up and sat down beside Vix.

"She has a soft spot for herbalists," the young woman said, indicating Ayla with a jab of her finger. "A full member of the sisterhood of traveling plants."

Vix did not know what to say, so she did not say anything. She sat and she whittled and she watched the world unfold as her new found companion chortled in amusement.

"Someone should tell that Moon to put some clothes on," she said. "Or she's going to end up with nettles on her nipples and weeds in her wazoo."

Vix snorted in amusement.

"Something funny?" Ayla turned, giving her a questioning look.

"Just..." Vix indicated the space next to her with her elbow.

"Just..." Ayla shrugged, her ample bosom moving enchantingly with the motion.

"Her."

"Her who? Moon?"

The interloper grinned at Vix. "She can't see me. Neither can your naked friend."

Vix lowered her eyes to her work and tried to figure out what to do next. She was having a conversation with what seemed to be a figment of her imagination. One didn't go about announcing such things, especially to people one wanted desperately to impress.

"Moon," Vix mumbled. "Moon is funny."

"Ah, keeping my secret. I like you," the invisible-to-everyone-besides-Vix stranger said, nudging her in the ribs with what felt like a very real finger.

"Don't mind Vix," Moon said, drawing attention back to her semi-nude self. "She's just quiet."

"It's the quiet ones you have to watch," Ayla murmured.

Vix kept her head down, but she could feel the witch's eyes on her. The hairs at the back of her neck were prickling with awareness, telling her she was being observed closely and deeply, past the surface of her skin and right down into her thoughts.

"Relax," her new companion said. "She can't actually read minds. She just pretends to."

Slightly scared but completely curious, Vix pretended to ignore the woman sitting next to her. That didn't seem to bother the interloper. She stretched out her stocking clad legs, crossed them at the ankles and rested her arms behind her head, lifting her dirt smudged face to the sun. Through frequent glances, Vix deduced that she must be a traveler of some kind. Her clothes were worn and patched, liberally covered in the sort of grime one could only accumulate after weeks on the road.

All of a sudden, Vix became aware that Ayla and Moon were no longer talking. She looked up to find that Ayla was looking at her with a keen gaze which was very unsettling. She knew something was going on, but she didn't seem to know what. Certainly her gaze did not slip to Vix's right, to the spot where the intruder sat and sunbathed.

"Problem?" Vix directed the question at the witch.

"You stopped whittling. Something get your attention?"

"It's a nice day," Vix said. "I was enjoying the sun."

"Oh, nice save," the intruder interjected. "Sun is a good one."

Ayla glanced around, her eyes darting from the cottage to the trees, to the ground. "Something is amiss."

"Yes," Vix said glibly. "Everything."

"So negative!" Moon launched into a lecture. "Don't you know that negativity attracts negativity?"

"According to my experiments, negativity repels negativity," Vix argued. "Metals..."

"I'm not talking about metals, I'm talking about mortals," Moon said, interrupting once more.

"Suck down some more smoke and shut your mouth," the intruder growled under her breath. "Happy clappy yippy skippy silliness."

The corner of Vix's mouth curled up in a little smile. She couldn't help it. Whoever this caustic, carefree stranger was, she rather liked her.

"Vix." Ayla's calm tones cut through her amusement. The witch beckoned her with a crooked finger. "Come with me."

There was a little cough next to Vix's elbow as the stranger slid down in the seat, uttering not so much words as sounds. "Uh oh."

"Are you going to tell me what is happening?"

"Nothing is happening," Vix said. "We are waiting for you to be ready to travel."

Ayla's lips thinned. "Do not play verbal games with me. You know perfectly well what I am asking."

Vix's defenses were well aroused. There was a secret and she was its keeper.

"I know there is something amiss," Ayla said.

"She doesn't know what's going on!" The traveler exclaimed, appearing all of a sudden from under the table. She proceeded to dance all about Ayla, kicking her legs out at the knee in a stiff-legged jig. "She doesn't know nothing at all!"

Ayla's eyes were locked on Vix's when she reached out and seemingly plucked the uninvited visitor out of mid-air, grasping her by the lobe of her ear.

"Ow!" The visitor shrieked, more out of indignation than pain. "You're not supposed to be able to see me! I drank ten gallons of invisibility potion! Ten gallons! I was drinking potion from sun up to sun down."

"I could see your reflection in Vix's eyes. In future, if you want to stay invisible, don't talk to anyone immune to the potions."

"I'm immune to the potion?" Vix asked the question.

"You're immune to potions other people have taken."

"Aren't we all?" Vix was skeptical, but Ayla did not give any further explanation.

"Are you going to let me go?" The visitor was standing awkwardly, her ear still trapped in Ayla's pinch fingered grip.

"That depends on your answer to two questions. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I'm Liz," she said. "And I'm here to keep an eye on things. For Ariadne."

"So you are a spy."

"That's what I said." Liz folded her hands over her chest, her head still cocked at that uncomfortable angle.

"A spy in my home," Ayla purred, her green eyes flashing. "An interloper with ill-intentions."

"I'm just doing the goddesses' bidding," Liz shrugged. "As we all must do."