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Exhaustion is clearly written on every face, but no one complains. I imagine they’re numb or too tired to give voice to their grievances. Inside the crack in the cliff wall the cavern opens up into a wide room with a tall ceiling. A fire burns, spreading its light and warming the space. Stricken faces sit on the ground or makeshift pallets, staring ahead with unseeing eyes. Children cling to their mothers or grandparents. The silence is unsettling.
There is no conversation such as I grew used to in the village from before. No laughter, no songs, and no music. Sadness taints the air, making it heavy and hard to breathe. The mother picks an open spot and nods towards it. I place her basket down and look to her before I open it. When she nods, I remove the lid and there is a rough spun blanket on top.
It takes some time to square it all up, but I make her a pallet and she sits, rewarding me with a brief, grim smile. The baby at her chest fusses and she shifts it around and places it on her other breast. When she looks up her cheeks and eyes glisten with tears. I can’t hold her gaze and I turn and leave the cave. As I emerge the young boy who saw me almost do magic is standing at the entrance. The way he stares wide-eyed with a look of awe leaves no doubt he was waiting.
“I’m Ian,” he says.
“Hello, Ian, I’m Quinn.”
“Are ya a witch?”
Fear clenches my stomach into a tight knot, and I quickly look around to see if anyone is listening. Thankfully no one is close enough to have overheard him. At least I don’t think they are. It’s dark and there are a lot of dancing shadows that could easily hide someone.
“I am not.”
He frowns and his jaw tightens. He shakes his head negative.
“I saw you.”
I kneel so that I’m eye level with him. The flickering firelight makes his eyes sparkle with an unholy light while casting an orange glow on his face.
“And what did you see, Ian?”
“You sparkled. Magic flowed through you. I know. I seen the Fae Queen before, I did. I saw how she moved, like you. Smooth, flowy, and she was pale too, like you.”
“Ian, that would be a mighty stretch indeed if I was the Fae Queen, don’t you think?”
“I did nae say you were the Fae Queen,” he says testily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said you was like her, but not nearly as pretty.”
Ouch, that stings. Got a sharp tongue don’t you, Ian?
“And where did you see the Fae Queen pray tell?” I ask, ignoring the insult. Ian rolls his eyes as if I’m an idiot. “At the standing stones, of course. Where else would I see her?”
When I glance around again there are others watching us now. I need to end this, fast.
“Well, Ian, whatever you thought you saw, it wasn’t magic.”
“Then how did you stand up to Lord Nicholas?”
I close my eyes and sigh. The Druid would be proud of little Ian. He asks the right questions.
“I took a risk. I had to because if I didn’t, it would have been bad.”
“You mean he would have killed us all,” Ian says.
“Aye.”
He bravely schools his face, but I don’t miss the way his lips tremble and the tears glisten in his eyes. He nods sharply, then turns his back and walks away. When he is three strides off, he stops and looks over his shoulder.
“You may or may not be a witch,” he says. “But one way or another.” He pauses for a long, dramatic moment while my heart pounds hard. “Thank you.”
He runs off before I can respond. He’s gone as fast as he came. I stand, then in the shadows see a group of women huddled together who saw the exchange. Though I can barely see them in the dark there is no mistaking when they make the sign against the evil eye.
The more things change, as the saying goes. Here I am. Half an outcast among a clan of outcasts. Shit.
ChapterFour
“That’s my space,”a shrill voice rises.
