Page 44 of The Noldrin Witch

“That’s how you knew the man bothering me in the procession was a goblin?”

Morgaine gave a slow nod. “Many creatures dress as humans to pass unnoticed. You really never know.”

Elise gasped. She figured Morgaine was not the sort to trust just any stranger to come into their house, let alone let her stay and make her their apprentice.

“You used it with me as well, didn’t you?”

“Darling, darling,” Morgaine said. “We don’t have time to waste here. The sooner you go to the castle and become a part of the king’s staff, the better chances you’ll have to avoid that demon coming to take you.”

The memory of Seth came back to her. With the duke’s visit, she had almost forgotten the immediate threat before her. Her imagination had already begun running into fantasies of working at the castle, and perhaps having Kurt close enough that her own gift for magic had taken a secondary place in her thoughts. There was something about him that made her forget everything else, her disappointment with Edward included.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she continued, “About Danu, I don’t feel anything different, Morgaine. Are you sure I was claimed by a divinity?”

Morgaine smiled. “Not only am I certain, but Devon is so convinced of it that he wanted to take you somewhere he could keep a closer eye on you and prevent a catastrophe. You’d better start believing it. That’s the beginning of all magic, my dear!”

Elise took the words to heart. “I believe. I just wish I knew what to expect.”

“The sort of magic you could develop is unpredictable, and you need to be prepared for anything. But first, prepare yourself for the wicked fairies, who I have no doubt will try to make your admission impossible.”

The mere talk about fairies seemed to sour the witch’s mood. She spoke bitterly, dragging her words as though each one personally offended her. “The fairies are haughty beings. They all seem to be cut from the same cloth. They act all the same. One might think they are indeed related. They are scared of witches. If you are ever in trouble, mention the Devil, Hell, or anything of the sort.”

“What should I do once I’m at the castle? Where do I find the stone?”

Morgaine sighed. “That will be the hardest part, my dear. The wretched thing is hidden in the king’s gardens, deep in a labyrinth. But worry not. Once you enter the maze, it won’t be difficult to find. Remember, the relic is as large as a boulder and shaped like a crescent moon. Use the mirror if you ever need me.”

Elise swallowed hard. “I’ll do that. I just hope the fairies take me.”

“Do your best and trust that pretty face of yours has bewildered the duke enough to arrange your entrance without delay.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“He came to see you, my dear. I need nothing more to know.”

*****

Elise walked toward the city with such poise she felt like a noblewoman on a mission. She rose at the crack of dawn with only one goal in mind. She did not know whether it was the magic mirror in her pocket, the crow on her shoulder, or the fear of ending up in Hell, but she had decided she would be accepted.

She had spent the last two days practicing every potion Morgaine could think to teach her. Dedicated as she was, those two days had served almost as well as two months under the stiff discipline of what Elise suspected was the most powerful witch in the realm.

Seth had not yet come to supervise her, and for that Elise was grateful beyond belief. Even if it was true that the demon was a comely infernal, neither his sharp jaw nor his remarkably handsome face could make her wish to see him again.

Her opinion of him regressed the more time she spent remembering all that had transpired between them during the witches’ festival, and by now he was beginning to settle in her mind as King Beelzebub himself.

Elise picked up her skirts as she walked along the narrow forest road. This time she had chosen a dress that neither displayed her better attributes nor threatened to fall to pieces as she walked.

Soon, she found the opening in the wall that allowed her to make her way into the city with considerably more haste.

Despite the humble attire she had chosen for the day, many of the people she passed still turned their heads to watch her. More than a few gentlemen offered their company and remarked upon how properly dressed she was. As Elise advanced along the road to the castle, she could see the enormous fortification perched atop a hill. It was perhaps fifteen minutes away if one walked at a brisk pace and did not mind weaving around a few horses dragging old wooden wagons loaded with provisions.

With an enthusiasm fit for someone who had been told that the king himself had summoned them for a reward, Elise quickly reached the castle gates. She was, of course, nervous about meeting the fairies, but she was well-prepared. She had practiced everything Morgaine had taught her and more. By now, Elise could blend potions with reasonable competence, and although her magic had not yet bloomed, Morgaine had assured her that no one would expect more from a first-time potion-maker than the handling of ingredients.

Immediately after Elise announced the purpose of her visit to the guards, the two hardy men relaxed their stiff expressions at once. She needed only to offer them a small smile for one of them to hurry inside and announce her arrival. She was beginning to feel the task might prove easy and that she had worried without real reason when she was led into the catacombs. That hopeful sentiment died quickly at the sight of a gaunt man waiting for her. His face carried such spite that one suspected he was intimately acquainted with the many varieties of misery. She didn’t need to use the mirror Morgaine had given her to know the small glass would cloud at once.

The man stood in the narrow entrance, nearly blocking the view of the great open chamber beyond. It was as though Elise had been left facing the gatekeeper of the underworld.

“You must be Elise,” he said, his gaze traveling over her with open scrutiny. “I can see why the duke was so interested in helping you, darling.” He let out a dry chuckle.

Elise returned the scrutiny with a glance of her own. The man’s richly decorated tunic barely covered his lower half. His bright red leggings left very little to the imagination and appeared determined to accentuate what the tunic had failed to conceal. Elise noticed a few careful stitches along one side of the legging, and the fabric of his sleeves looked more worn and dusted than bright. This man was not nearly as powerful as he seemed eager to pretend.