Dark Magic (47 page)

Read Dark Magic Online

Authors: B. V. Larson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Magic & Wizards, #Arthurian, #Superhero, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: Dark Magic
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The elves twirled and kicked and dipped low. Ever as they cavorted, they seemed about to crash into one another, but never did. Each wild movement moved them this way and that over the hilltop, causing the men at the bottom to lunge and grasp as they came near but then danced out of reach again.

“Your men must stand, Brand,” said Oberon.

“You can grab, but keep your places, boys,” Brand called. “Don’t worry, you’ll catch one eventually.”

As they process continued, Brand himself became almost overwhelmed by feelings of lust. He even thought for a short span, that he regretted being the only married man here today. Then he closed his eyes and conjured Telyn’s face to keep himself under control, if not calm.

A shriek and a giggle made him open his eyes again. The first maid had been caught. A long-fingered man from North End had managed it. A marshman by the look of him. He looked as if he’d caught the biggest fish in the swamp and leered happily at his prize, a small elf with curly hair of shining black.

The process continued and men grabbed their new wives-to-be with gusto. At last, only a few danced and Oberon ordered the remaining men to advance. Soon, it was over except for a single elf female who stood atop the mound.

“Stop the dance!” shouted Oberon. He clapped his hands and the piping halted. The last silver-haired maid stood still, crestfallen and silent. Her lovely chin dipped until it touched her chest and stayed there.

Brand realized he had brought one less man than he had promised. That fool Bret Silure had left this fine woman with no mate. Teased and spurned, the girl was dejected.

“What of the last one?” Brand asked Oberon.

The elf lord shrugged. “She will go back to being a spinster. There is nothing for it.”

Oberon led them all off the mound then into the trees that surrounded it. Brand looked about in wonderment.

“Would this be the Great Erm?”

“Yes, my forested homeland. It is something like the Deepwood for your people. We’ve shunned this place in the past, but now that I have the Red attuned, I can keep the creatures that walk here under control.”

Huge trees towered over them. Brand was astounded by their size and thickness. Truly, they stood as tall as the peaks of the Black Mountains themselves. He could not credit his eyes when he saw the animals that lived here. Gnats were the size of birds. Creatures that were of no consequence in the Haven, things that crawled in the grasses and were ignored by all, were big enough here to be collared and yoked to a farmer’s cart.

In a clearing at the foot of a dozen towering trees that spanned a mile, a strange town had been built. The structures within the town were like nothing Brand had yet seen. Shaped like mushrooms, but hollowed out with windows in the caps and doors in the stems, Brand came to realize as he toured the place that they
were
mushrooms. So tall, stiff and strong were they that the elves had decided to live among them and make them into homes.

In the town square, the ceremony was to be held. Oberon did not have the time nor the patience to perform seventy-nine weddings, so he married them all at once. Every man of the River stood with his spine straight and his eyes shining with excitement. Every lovely maid stood at his side, her hands on her man’s elbow and her eyes no less alight.

Words were spoken, vows were murmured, and the ceremony was over quickly. Brand was accustomed to the droning affairs of the River Folk, and so the early ending surprised him. No less surprising was the striking up of the musicians, who burst into a lively tune the moment Oberon stopped speaking.

Every maid turned to her surprised new husband and kissed him passionately. Their fervor was returned by the crude River Folk males, but their rough lips and bristling beards caused some consternation.

“It appears your daughters will have some adjusting to do,” Brand said to Oberon, who had come alongside him.

“As will your men, I assure you,” Oberon replied.

Brand glanced at him sidelong, not sure what his meaning was. He soon was handed a cup of Fae nectar however, which tasted as fresh as morning dew. He quaffed it and reached for another. The celebration had begun in earnest.

While he watched the merriment, participating little save for an occasional cup of Faerie wine, Brand wondered where it all might lead. These marriages between elves and men must result in children. What would their offspring be like? Would they be loyal to the elves or to the River Folk—or to both, as he hoped? He could not think of a way to predict the outcome.

An hour or six later—it was difficult to measure the passage of time here under the permanent glow of the stars—Brand thought again of the maid who had gone without a mate.

“Oberon,” he said, his tongue thick with drink. “I have a proposal.”

The elf lord leaned close and stared at him fixedly. “Describe it, by all means.”

“The maid who was left upon the mound. I would take her home to Riverton to find her a mate…” he said. “If you approve of the idea, of course.”

Oberon’s eyebrows rose high and stayed there. “Interesting. She is lovely to look upon, isn’t she?”

Brand startled. He realized now that the person his eyes were gazing fixedly upon was the girl in question. She was lovely…in fact, that term was almost too weak to describe her.

She had silver shoulder-length hair that made him think of moonlight. Her lithe form had more curves to it than most of her sisters, making her look more womanly, but she still appeared very young and entrancing. Both her eyes were a tawny orange, and a light burned there when she met a man’s gaze.

If he had to put a ranking upon this vision of beauty, he would say she was more intensely attractive than any other elf present. Perhaps even the Shining Lady had not been so pleasantly alluring. And as a bonus, this girl did not have the clawed feet of a bird of prey.

“I’m sure I would have no problem finding a man to match her,” Brand said.

Oberon laughed. “I would be shocked if you could
match her
. But I will allow it. Kaavi will be grateful for your offer, I’m sure.”

“Kaavi?” asked Brand, slurring his words slightly.

“The one you are staring at,” said Oberon with smirking delight. “I’ll tell you another secret: she is my youngest daughter of marriageable age. She was married moments before the war broke out, and never managed to consummate the relationship as her fiancé died in the conflict.”

Brand eyed him. “You mean she’s...?”

“A maiden, yes,” Oberon said.

“I detect subtlety in your voice,” Brand said, frowning at the elf lord with sudden distrust. “Don’t think that I’m helplessly drunk, elf.”

“Oh no,” Oberon purred. “I’m quite sure you are as dangerous as ever. Perhaps even more so.”

“Right,” Brand said, satisfied. He sat back and sipped his nectar more slowly. It went down like drinking spring water, but hit a man like whiskey.

Kaavi
, he thought, nodding off. He wondered what she would be like.

 

Chapter Three

Coming Home

 

When Brand led sixteen men of the River with their elvish brides back to Riverton Common, he was bleary-eyed and tired. The drink from the night before had taken a toll upon him. The rest of the couples had stayed behind in the Twilight Lands. Each couple had been provided a mushroom cottage, fresh grown from the thick loam of the Great Erm. Some had decided to live there, liking the world so much. Others had been talked into at least continuing their honeymoon with the Fae. In truth, Brand thought it was only the most stubborn and homesick that returned with him. Those whose fear of being left with the elves outweighed the promise of wild pleasures.

Brand might have been in a sullen mood due to his aching head and the long journey, had it not been for the seventeenth elf girl in the group: Kaavi. She brightened things considerably, and was a delight in every sense of the word. She reminded him of Telyn, as she had been when they were younger and at their most flirtatious. He felt a strong desire to bed her, and wondered if there had not been so many witnesses trailing him if he would have tried to do so there in the silver grasses. Would she even have him? She gave every sign of interest, but that could just be the natural demeanor of her kind.

Kaavi twisted about under his scrutiny and smiled up at him. She was incredibly flexible, and could bend about like a stalk of grass in the winds. She wore little in the way of clothing, and thus provided Brand with a continuously changing and always pleasant view.

Brand grinned at her antics, but the grin faded into a frown. He gave his head a shake. What kind of thoughts were these? He had a wonderful wife who sat at home even now, worrying about him and the child that quickened in her belly.

“Have I displeased you?” asked Kaavi.

The sadness that came over her face was difficult for Brand to bear. He felt a deep sense of guilt for having brought her pain. Such beauty and life, who was he to insult her? He was an insect beside a goddess, and he was not worthy of distressing her with his petty worries.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, trying to think clearly. “There’s nothing wrong. I just thought of something I should be doing.”

“And what should you be doing?”

“I should be remembering my fine wife, that’s what.”

“Oh, that,” she said, giving her head a delightful nod. “Why worry about her? She’s not here. She will never know your thoughts.”

Brand grimaced at the mere idea. If Telyn
could
hear his thoughts today—well things would become grim around Rabing House. He was not so sure, upon reflection, that she could
not
hear them. He was also unsure if this entire affair of bringing home an elf princess was such a fine idea. It had seemed like a fantastic plan when he’d thought of it at Oberon’s festival, but now….

“There it is,” Kaavi said. “That worried expression again. It’s most unpleasant, you know. If you worry too much, your hair will fall out and you’ll become old. Did you know that?”

Brand’s lips flickered upward, creating a tiny smile. “I suppose that I did.”

“We elves live for the here and the now,” she said, as if explaining things to a child. “To worry about futures and maybes…well, it doesn’t bear thinking about! One could never do a
thing
if tied up in thoughts of possible consequences!”

“What do you mean?”

“What if a dozen vicious beasts await you when you return to Riverton?” she asked.

“They don’t.”

“But you don’t
know
that they don’t. Perhaps they
do
. Perhaps there will be two dozen. Perhaps today, Old Hob has marched a horde of rhinogs to your town, flying them there from afar.”

Brand’s axe shifted on his back. His smile, which had been a fleeting affair at best, faded into a snarl. “Are you telling me you know something? Speak plainly, girl!”

She laughed and the sound was like tinkling silver bells. “Of course I don’t know any of these things! The point is: you don’t either. If you let yourself worry about these maybes and wherefores, you will never rest and enjoy life. The key to the joy of my people is we
don’t
worry about what might come to be.”

“A man does not gain much in life if he doesn’t face his responsibilities,” Brand said sternly.

She shook her head and took his arm. Her hands felt like butterflies landing upon this skin. Her touch tickled slightly, but it was definitely a pleasant sensation.

“You don’t understand at all,” she said. “My worries will come or not come. If they
do
come, I will be there to greet my woes when they arrive, but not a moment before. For example, all of us must die someday, but should we think of nothing else today, while we yet live?”

Brand stared down at her. Her large, round eyes looked back up. She seemed most sincere, and he really did think he was beginning to understand her point. If one was a worrier, one could forever find a new thing to worry about. In a way, everyone had to decide at some point
not
to worry about the future in order to be able to enjoy the present. What if, for instance, Telyn was destined to die in child birth with their first child? Should he be fearful of that possibility? Or joyous with the hope all would be well?

“So,” he said slowly. “Your people believe happiness is a choice, not a reality?”

Kaavi stared up at him. “Very insightful!” she said. She gave her tinkling laugh again, and jumped up toward him. Her lips brushed his before he could pull his face back from her.

Brand reddened and turned away. Looking ahead he saw now they had almost reached his own world and the Riverton Common. Delicately, he plucked her tiny hands from his arm and cleared his throat.

“All right boys,” he said loudly over his shoulder. “None of you have gotten lost, have you? Good. We’ll be home in a moment. Don’t step from the path now, or no one will be able to retrieve you.”

His eyes slid to fall again on Kaavi, who paced beside him. She took two quick steps for each of his sweeping strides. She caught his gaze, and wiggled her nose at him.

With his own world and people so near, Brand became suddenly aware of her near-nakedness. I occurred to him he was about to march through Riverton with this impish, nearly-nude elf girl at his side. He removed his cloak and swept it around her, putting it on her shoulders. It dragged on the ground behind her.

“What’s this about?” she asked in bewilderment. “I’d thank you, but I’m not cold, sir.”

“Pull it about you, please. I don’t want all the River Haven to be talking.”

Kaavi shook her head and smiled, but she did as he asked. “Only for you, Brand,” she said.

Brand sucked in a deep breath and wondered how he had gotten into this situation.

 

* * *

 

Riverton Common was a harsh dose of sunlight and reality as they stepped out upon it. Every man of them in the procession blinked at the sunlight, which still died in the west, filtering through the treetops. As it left them, they were better able to see in the gloomy twilight which they’d become accustomed to.

“They’re back!” shouted someone. There was a considerable amount of whooping and a half-dozen individuals trotted toward them. Most were children.

Brand strode forward and hailed them. “Yes, we are back!”

“Where are the rest?” asked a child in disappointment. Brand thought she might be little Jenny Fob, a cousin of Telyn’s. She was about ten years old, and had blonde hair cut short with rough shears. She looked dirty and unkempt.

“There are a few more coming,” Brand said, looking over his shoulder as more men and their new wives appeared as if walking out of a thick morning mist.

“I don’t see daddy,” said the Fob girl.

“Are you Jenny Fob?” he asked her.

“Yes Lord Rabing,” she said.

“Poor girl,” said Kaavi coming and kneeling before her. “Your father is one of those who stayed behind. I’m sure he’ll come back when he’s done with his…ah, honeymoon.”

Brand walked close and loomed over the two of them. “How long have you been waiting on the Common, Jenny?” he asked.

“Over a month now,” she said. Jenny put up a brave front, but a tear ran down her face. “I come here every morning and night.”

Kaavi caught her second tear with her finger and lifted it high.

Jenny stared at her. “Are you an elf?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes dear,” said Kaavi. She peered inside the droplet of water as it clung to her fingertip.

“What do you see in my tears?” asked Jenny.

“Lots of things,” Kaavi said.

“Like what?”

“A hot meal and a warm fire, for two!”

Brand cleared his throat and they looked up at him. “Let’s take you back to Riverton. I’m sure the Fobs at the Tannery will look after you tonight.”

He led the way toward town. The group broke up behind him, every man taking his wife a separate direction. It felt good to be home, even if he was a month late. He wondered if Telyn had worried overmuch. He suspected that she had. As was often the case when journeying to the Twilight Lands, time had moved differently here. Historically, this was particularly common when Faerie celebrations were involved. He supposed he should be glad only a month had passed rather than a year.

Kaavi took Jenny’s hand automatically. As Brand walked beside them, he could not help but smile. Kaavi had Jenny giggling before they dropped her off at the Tannery. Afterward, he saw the elf girl tasting her finger. Was that the same teardrop? Had she carried it somehow, all this time? She ran her tongue over her finger with an odd expression of curiosity? He suspected it was the first child’s tear the elf had ever experienced.

 

* * *

 

They spent the night in Riverton at the rebuilt
Spotted Hog
. Brand paid for two rooms with clinking silver coins. Kaavi complained when she realized she was to be left alone in an unknown town in an unknown world for the night. She tapped at Brand’s door and asked to be let in.

Brand opened the door, but put a big hand up to stop her as she tried to slip by him into his chamber.

“Kaavi,” he said, whispering in the quiet hallway. “You have your own room.”

“The bed is rough,” she said. “It’s as if they stuffed it with straw!”

Brand chuckled. “They did precisely that,” he told her.

“Beastly!” the elf said. “Have they no goose down?”

“Not here.”

“Well, the bed is cold besides,” Kaavi said. She looked up at him with eyebrows raised high.

Brand blinked back. Was she asking to share his bed? To warm it with him? He felt a flush creeping up his neck. “I’ll have a bedwarmer full of fresh coals sent up,” he told her.

Kaavi pouted, but eventually returned to her room. Brand spent a fitful night after that, trying to shed thoughts of Kaavi, Telyn and Jenny Fob from his mind.

In the morning they set sail for Rabing Isle. Brand had nowhere convenient to drop off Kaavi, unlike Jenny Fob. He had promised to find her a mate. There was nothing for it other than to take the elf girl home with him on his sailing skiff.

They rode the River peacefully. There was little other traffic. As they traveled the quiet waters, Kaavi did not seem to be at peace, however. Brand sat in the stern of the skiff to steer it after having seated her in the prow, thinking she could best see the Haven passing by from there. She slipped under the boom of the sails and soon came back to place herself beside him.

“Can I steer?” she asked. “I’ve never guided a watercraft before.”

“We call it a boat,” he said, chuckling. He let her take the tiller, but soon had to put a guiding hand atop hers as they neared rocks, shoals and rapids. She seemed to have no aptitude for steering safely down a river, that was for certain.

Brand soon noted his hand felt hot upon hers. Was he sweating? How odd.

“What’s that?” she asked, leaning suddenly across his body.

Brand sucked in his breath at her nearness, and the scent of her filled his head. It was hard to think clearly. He found himself wanting to wrap his arms around her. She was right there, pressing against his chest, almost embracing him….

“Ah,” he said, following her pointing, outstretched arm. “That’s a woodpecker.”

“Such a strange call it makes.”

He laughed. “That’s not a call! It beats its beak against trees to dig out insects.”

She frowned at him and pouted. “I’m a joke to you?”

“Certainly not.”

Mollified, Kaavi went back to staring at the passing world with big, intense eyes. “You’re trees are rather small here.”

Brand huffed. “Would you believe our insects are so tiny, we can crush them with a single boot?”

Kaavi looked at him disapprovingly. “Father said you were a murderous people.”

“He should talk!”

She withdrew from him somewhat and crossed her arms under her small, perfect breasts. At some point he realized, she’d managed to remove the cloak he placed upon her shoulders in Riverton. It now lay discarded at the bottom of the skiff. Brand picked it up.

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