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“Yes.” Ásví nodded, fidgeting with her rings. “There's no mistaking it. This means, dear girl, you may have only been taught earth magic, but other talents are dormant in your veins. It appears they don't want to be dormant anymore, do they?”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Ayda burst. She sounded like she was close to tears.
Hùisdean's chest ached, but there was nothing he could do for her. They all had the same questions.
“Be calm, Ayda,” Ásví murmured, taking on a gentler tone that was more suitable for a grandmother. Hùisdean's eyebrows shot up. He’d never heard his aunt take that tone with anyone before.
“You have some Scottish ancestry, yes?” Ásví continued, and Ayda nodded. “Then it seems you have some Norse parentage too. It's not uncommon. You told her the history of the Shetland Islands, boy?” Ásví turned her attention to Hùisdean. “I’m assuming you at least did that.”
Hùisdean nodded. “Yes, Aunty.”
“Good.” Ásví clapped her hands together and jumped up from her seat. “Well, we'll have to ask Margaret again, won't we? You've got some magic from the old gods in you, Ayda. There is no point in fretting about that now. The next thing to do is determine what the gods want you to do with it!” Ásví hurried over to the kitchen cabinets and started pulling out jars and sprigs of herbs.
“How do you suppose we do that?” Ayda crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't know which ancestors were Norse or whom to ask.”
“Ayda is right,” Hùisdean spoke up. “Aunty, these powers just manifested for Ayda. It may be a simple explanation of her having Norse ancestry, but why are they appearing now? After all this time? For what?”
“Those are excellent questions, nevø.” Ásví stopped what she was doing and smiled. “Now, you're thinking like a magician! Why now? For what?” Ásví rubbed her hands together, growing more excited. She looked practically giddy as she skipped around the kitchen, making Hùisdean nervous.
“Answers, Aunty.” Hùisdean sighed. “We need answers.”
“And we shall get them!” Ásví cheered victoriously. “Ayda, my love, why don't you come with me?” Ásví started to walk towards the back door, pulling a scarf over her head. “We’ll need a few more things from the garden, and I could use your help.”
“What are we going to need those things for?” Ayda pushed without getting up from her chair.
“Why, to ask Margaret again, of course!” Ásví grinned. “Except, this time, we'll summon her back properly. Whenever an apparition appears in a painting, it has a limited vocabulary. Horribly annoying, you know. It's something like a voicemail.”
“Good lord,” Hùisdean grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved Ásví but wasn't sure if this plan would work or if Ayda preferred to run back to Carenlume after this morning.
“You can summon her back properly?” Ayda interjected, perking up.
“Of course I can.” Ásví scoffed. She grabbed two baskets from a chest near the door. “Why do you think there's a cemetery out back? I like to keep my enemies close by. I bring them back to gloat every once in a while.”
Hùisdean's jaw dropped. “Aunty!” He turned towards Ayda. “Look, if you want to go back, we can—”
“Absolutely not.” Ayda started smiling. She jumped out of her chair and practically ran to join Ásví. “Do you think you could show me how you do it?”
Ásví handed Ayda a basket and patted her on the cheek. “More than that, young one. I need your help.”
Ayda was beaming as Ásví led the way out towards the garden. Hùisdean followed close behind, watching in a fair amount of shock and awe at how quickly Ayda won over Ásví.
“Help us,” he muttered under his breath. “There're two of them.”
Hùisdean watched in equal parts horror and delight as he watched Ayda glued to Ásví's side. They'd flipped a switch and quickly become thick as thieves as soon as it was time to talk about magic. Ayda's entire face lit up as she spoke to Ásví. Hùisdean could practically see her taking mental notes.
“And…this one.” Ásví plucked a fresh sprig of rosemary from the ground and tossed it into her awaiting basket.
“What do you think rosemary will do?” Ayda asked, and Ásví launched into a long explanation.
Hùisdean stood a few paces behind them, dutifully holding Ayda's basket as she nodded with rapt attention at everything that Ásví said. Although he'd been worried about Ayda's reaction to being spoken to by Margaret the Maid, Ásví could help her overcome some of her anxiety about it. As long as she could approach a situation from the perspective of a magical puzzle, Ayda wouldn't have any problem powering through.
While Ayda had slipped easily into Ásví's good graces, Hùisdean was growing increasingly anxious on the periphery. He wasn't worried about the Shetland Islands or Ásví but about his love for Ayda.
He'd been determined to win her over, momentarily concerned his hopes were squashed, but now, watching Ayda interact with Ayda, he could see how perfectly she could nestle into his life.
Ásví was the most challenging member of his family to get along with. If Ayda could get along with her, nothing else in Hùisdean's life would cause her any issues. Standing in front of Ásví was more difficult than standing in front of the entire elven court at Carenlume.
That's if she even has feelings for you. Or if she does have feelings for you, she might have zero interest in signing up for a life of scrutiny.
