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Ayda could feel the forest breathing around her in a way she had never experienced before. It echoed all around her. Before, using her earth magic had felt like using a language translator. Now, it was like being a native speaker. The nuance between the trees and the bushes, the flowers and the weeds—it was all clear to her now. It was terrific. Ayda didn't think her heart could get any lighter, as chaotic as their evening had been.
Until they stepped into the valley, Ayda saw a light in the church. Hùisdean was waiting for them, likely making sure Ayda returned safely.
Chapter Seventeen
Hùisdean opened the back door to greet them. His hands were on his hips, and he stared daggers at Ásví.
“What the hell did you do?” He stormed towards them, not taking his eyes off his aunt. “There's old magic practically radiating off Ayda.”
“And you're welcome for that.” Ásví smirked. She pulled another amulet out of her pocket and put it on before stepping around Hùisdean to go inside.
Hùisdean extended his hand out towards Ayda, who accepted it with a stifled giggle. Hùisdean tugged her behind him as they followed Ásví.
“I’m serious, Aunty.” Hùisdean pushed again. Ásví said nothing. She raised a single brow at him and started brewing herself a tea pot. “If you put her through that fucked up ritual…”
“Half of her power was dormant, Hùisdean!” Ásví groaned as if this was a conversation she was bored of having. “I simply unlocked it for her. Besides, that was part of the riddle. Not that we got any other answers. Dead people can be so one-dimensional, you know?”
Ayda tried to keep her laughter suppressed as Hùisdean practically turned red. She had been terrified briefly when she thought power might consume her alive, but Ásví wasn't a fool.
It's pretty enjoyable watching Hùisdean get worked up about something.
“Ásví,” Hùisdean pinched the bridge of his nose, “did you even ask Ayda before you did it? Magic is personal…”
Ásví stopped pouring her tea and seemed to consider this for a moment. Her face turned sympathetic as she turned to Ayda, ignoring Hùisdean entirely.
“Ayda, I am sorry. Hùisdean is right about that. Magic is personal. I didn't want you to get unnecessarily spooked.”
Hùisdean looked stunned. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Ayda squeezed his hand.
“I appreciate that, Ásví. No harm, no foul.”
“I have never heard Ásví apologize for anything. Ever,” Hùisdean muttered under his breath. Ásví walked past, carrying her teacup. She patted Hùisdean's shoulder.
“There is no pleasing you, is there? Did you want me to apologize or not?” Hùisdean grunted and rubbed his brow.
“That's what I thought.” Ásví grinned. She placed her cup down, quickly straightened her tie, and grabbed the mug before heading out the backdoor.
“I’m going to sleep with the trees. Don't burn my house down, or I'll curse you in the most imaginable and creative of ways.” She wiggled her fingers and was gone.
Ayda finally burst out laughing, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. There were plenty of reasons for them to panic—they weren't much closer to solving the curse—but Ayda was freer.
Hùisdean smiled at the sound and wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him. He studied her face with awe and a soft smile.
Ayda's heart pounded. There was something in the way Hùisdean looked at her that filled her with equal parts adoration and anxiety. She couldn't remember the last time anyone looked at her with such admiration, but it filled her with dread. What if she couldn't live up to whatever expectation put that look on Hùisdean's face?
Ayda blushed and tried to turn her face away from Hùisdean's to grant herself a moment of relief from the sudden intensity in the kitchen. Her body stiffened, and Hùisdean picked up on the shift. He backed away but kept his arm around her waist as if he was granting her space, but not too much.
“Are you all right?” Hùisdean asked gently. “I would have never let you go off with Ásví if I knew she would pull that stunt. It terrified me when we were children, but that's how you typically need to wake up power from the old gods if it's in your veins.”
“That's the power you have?” Ayda questioned. “The elvish power—it's the power of the old gods?”
Hùisdean nodded. “It sure is. We're more similar in that way than you may think.”
Ayda shifted her weight between her feet. She knew she was already far too attached to Hùisdean. She'd fall over an emotional cliff if he started talking to her about magical synchronicities.
“Are you sure you're all right?” Hùisdean gently cupped her cheek and turned her attention back to him.
“Yes.” Ayda smiled. “Honestly, I've never felt more alive. I don't know what it is. I don’t… I don't fully understand it.” She may be trying to hide her feelings from Hùisdean, but she couldn’t hide her exhilaration over the wintry magic coursing through her veins.
