CHAPTER ONE

THE AUTUMN MORNING dawned cold and crisp, with the faint scent of winter death in the air. Leaves rustled underfoot as Eolyn ran into the forest, laughing. The rich aromas of pine and loam filled her senses. Fables told at the hearths of her village played through her mind, tales of man-eating trolls, mourning spirits, elusive Guendes and witches who devoured young children. Somewhere in the vast interior of the South Woods, the creatures of legend were lurking. Maybe today she would find one. She scanned the mossy green corridors, her eyes wide and alert.

“Eolyn!” Her brother’s anxious call alerted her to his approach. She had raced him through the mist-covered fields and—though he was much bigger—had left him far behind. With a playful grin she gripped her basket, woven from the waxy bark of a tallow sapling, and darted further into the forest.

None of the other children ventured into the South Woods with such ease of heart, but then none of them had a mother quite like Eolyn’s. Kaie had always laughed at the legends. She called them morbid entertainment designed to keep the unprepared from entering where they were not welcomed. It was Kaie who had taught Eolyn how to listen to the forest and use its gifts. The memory ignited a dull ache in the girl’s heart. The last time she walked these paths with her mother was months ago, as spring was warming into summer. Now the only place where Eolyn could feel Kaie’s presence was in the familiar company of these trees.

Eolyn wandered amid the towering giants, eyes directed toward the high canopy, a tangle of ebony branches silhouetted against the bright sky. Her natural enthusiasm was tempered by the respect her mother had instilled in her heart. She passed one small hand over the rough bark of a massive oak, then grasped the smooth bend of a low-hanging limb. A flash of ivory revealed a patch of fungus beneath the mottled leaf litter, a spot of ruby the last berries on a thorny shrub. As Eolyn gathered these simple treasures, she imagined her mother’s voice reflected in the flow of the stream across fine gray stones, and carried on the wind that rippled through the branches.

“Come look at this one,” Kaie used to call, and the girl would run to her mother’s side in time to see her pluck a delicate herb from the foot of an ancient tree. “This will bring down a fever in winter time.”

The plant bore a star-shaped yellow flower and tiny pointed leaves like a miniature fir. It pricked Eolyn’s fingers as she crushed it to inhale its bitter essence.

“And this,” Kaie gathered several fresh mushrooms bearing the sharp aroma of soft cheese, “will help fill our bellies tonight. . . A balm made from the leaves of this black nettle will heal an infection. But only use the black nettle, Eolyn, for the white will kill you faster than you can sneeze.”

Every time they visited the forest, Eolyn learned new foods and medicines from her mother, whose knowledge seemed boundless.

“You must guard all of this in your heart,” Kaie had instructed. “It is Simple Magic and it will serve you well.”

“It’s magic?” Eolyn’s eyes opened wide. She liked plants, but magic was dangerous. Last fall a woman had burned for witchcraft in Moehn. Eolyn’s friend Dels had seen it. Dels said the first thing to catch fire on a witch was her hair and the last thing to die was her heart. According to Dels, a burning witch smelled so bad even the rats ran away when the pyre was lit.

“It’s not real magic, Eolyn.” Her mother sighed. “Not the kind they would burn you for at any rate. Still, it’s better you don’t talk about what I’m teaching you back in the village, not even in our own home.”

“Why not?”

“Because the walls whisper.” Kaie had many sayings like this one, lyrical in tone and mysterious in meaning. “They hear what is said and repeat it at inopportune moments.”

Eolyn’s mother paused and sat on a large smooth rock. She loosened the ribbons that bound her hair, letting it fall in copper rivers over her shoulders. Her eyes, the color of spring leaves, disconnected from her daughter. Her fingers sifted through her tresses as if to alleviate the tension that hovered over her brow. After a long silence Kaie drew a deep breath and stood.

“It’s late.” She bound her hair and took Eolyn’s hand in hers. “We should start back to the farm.”

“But Mama, you haven’t explained anything about Simple Magic!”

“Nor will I. Not today anyway.”

“Why not?”

Eolyn’s mother did not respond. Her gait grew impatient and Eolyn had to run to keep up. “Why are you angry, Mama? What have I done?”

Kaie stopped abruptly. She bent down and placed a tender hand upon Eolyn’s cheek. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at the silence that has been imposed upon our lives.”

That was the first and last time Eolyn’s mother had mentioned Simple Magic. A few weeks afterwards Kaie went alone into the South Woods. She returned with a sturdy walking stick almost twice Eolyn’s height and a worn leather purse secured to a wide belt. Eolyn’s father grew angry, and Kaie’s last nights on the farm were marked by bitter disputes between them. Yet the morning she left he held her close and kissed her with a passion fed as much by love as it was by fear.

“Where is she going, Papa?” Eolyn asked as her mother departed on the road leading north.

He took her up in his solid arms, giving the girl one last look at her mother’s retreating figure. His earth brown eyes narrowed, and his voice was subdued. “Your mother’s allies are dead, but her loyalties are not. We must pray to the Gods for her safe return.”

Eolyn was not allowed past this evasive response. Still she had obeyed her father and prayed. The Gods proved slow in their answer. Spring slipped into summer and summer faded to fall, yet Kaie did not return. So this morning, when Eolyn and her brother raced toward the forest, they did so without their mother once again. This would be the last day of the season before winter set in and froze what was left of the forest harvest. The trees shook under a frigid northern wind. The fruits and mushrooms were cold to the touch, and Eolyn’s breath hung like a ghost in front of her.

“Come, Eolyn. Look at this one.”

Startled, Eolyn dropped her basket. Berries and herbs bled onto the forest floor. The woman’s voice was real, not a whisper on the passing wind, not a memory of months ago. Eolyn’s heart should have filled with joy, but she felt only fear. The forest was ominously still.

“Mama?” Shivering, Eolyn looked around for her brother, but Ernan was nowhere to be seen. “Mama?”

“I am here, Eolyn.”

The girl jumped at the touch upon her shoulder. Kaie stood next to her, tall and pale as the moonlight. Her eyes were opaque green and her hair fell unbound to her waist. Instinctively Eolyn reached toward her. Kaie shimmered and vanished, only to reappear a few paces away.

“What’s happening?” Eolyn whispered taking a step back.

“Hush, my daughter, and listen to me. Find your brother. Tell him you must run. Tell him you must hide.”

With that she disappeared. A breeze rustled through the leaves. Eolyn heard an agitated squirrel in the distance, but its fierce chatter faded against the pounding of her brother’s feet on the forest floor.

“Eolyn!” Ernan came running from behind the trees. He stopped breathless and grasped her shoulders with such strength it hurt. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer when I called? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Eolyn did not answer. She stared at where her mother had stood a moment ago.

“Eolyn, look at me.” Ernan put his hand to her chin and forced her gaze back to him. Five years her senior, Eolyn’s brother was a tall lanky boy with sharp features, red hair and intense green eyes like their mother’s. Ever since Eolyn could remember Ernan had been there watching over her. “What’s wrong? What has happened?”

“I saw Mama.” Eolyn’s voice sounded very small. She wondered if Ernan would believe her. “Mama said we should run. She said we have to hide.”

Ernan clenched his jaw and closed his hand tight around Eolyn. He stood up straight and sent his gaze like a lance toward their village. “Gods help us. They’ve found her.”

“Found who? Mama?”

Her brother’s face flushed red in anger. He spoke without looking at her. “Father was wrong to wait. We should have left a long time ago.”

“Where is she? Is she coming back?”

Without warning Ernan took off toward the forest interior, dragging Eolyn behind him. They dodged trees and jumped over logs and stones. Twice Eolyn tripped. Her hands and knees stung as they scraped against the harsh earth, but Ernan did not ease his pace until they came to a small stream that cut through a narrow trench. He pushed Eolyn into a hole concealed by bushes.

“What is this place?” Eolyn trembled on hands and knees, overwhelmed by the musty smell of damp earth. “Ernan, what’s happening?”

Producing an oil lamp from somewhere in the shadows, Ernan ignited its steady glow with a bit of flint. “I’m going to get Papa. You stay here. Don’t make any noise and don’t come out—no matter what happens—until we return. Do you understand?”

“No! No I don’t understand because you haven’t told me anything!”

Ernan slipped out of the hideaway and covered the entrance behind him.

“Ernan, don’t go! Don’t leave me here alone!”

But Eolyn’s brother had already left. A thick darkness engulfed her, broken only by the steady flicker of the oil lamp. The air felt stale and the earthen walls crowded her shoulders, threatening to suffocate her. She would not stay here. She would follow Ernan to find their father or hide in a tree where she could see and breathe.

Just as Eolyn moved toward the entrance, a tremor made her pause. Instinctively she pressed her hands tight against the damp floor and lowered her ear to the ground. A thin thunder ran through the earth, gathering strength and rising like an obsidian wave in the direction of her village. When Eolyn closed her eyes, the tremor sucked her in. Bloody visions engulfed her, roaring and receding like wild fire tested by the wind. Mounted soldiers swirled through acrid smoke. Her friends crumpled under flashing swords. Peasants lay scattered upon the burgundy dust, their homes collapsing into crisp flames. Eolyn screamed for help, but no one seemed to hear her. She ran through the choking smoke, and stumbled upon her father. His limbs were twisted in odd angles against the unyielding ground. His life faded in a crimson river that drained into the earth.

Eolyn’s eyes flew open and a nauseating emptiness ripped through her. She scurried backwards, knocking the lamp over and extinguishing its flame. The wall of the hideaway stopped her retreat. Hugging her knees to her chest she hid her face and wept. For the rest of that long day, and the tortuous night that followed, she saw no more.

When at last the next morning’s cold light peered through the entrance to her hideaway, Eolyn’s limbs were cramped and stiff. The damp chill had penetrated her bones. The girl crept forward and peeked outside. Mist hovered over the stream. On the opposite bank a mottled brown rabbit searched through the leaves for the last of the fall forage. Behind it a pair of flame-throated warblers chirped in a small bush. Thus reassured no humans were about, Eolyn crawled out of the entrance and stood up on shaky legs.

The animals melted into the forest leaving a silence so deafening she covered her ears to shut it out.

Ernan should have returned by now, she thought. Their farm lay on the very edge of the South Woods. It wouldn’t have taken him long to run there and back. He would be here by now if he had survived.

Eolyn bit her tongue against the urge to call her brother’s name, lest any sound bring mounted soldiers from behind the trees. She considered crawling back into the hole in hopes of capturing a vision that would reveal Ernan’s fate, but the thought of that dank shaft made her stomach turn. She told herself she did not need another vision. She saw what they did to the others. Ernan would not have been spared.

The story tellers of Eolyn’s village had shared numerous tales of such raids. It was said entire villages were destroyed by the King’s Riders for treachery and for harboring subversive magic. It was said no one survived his wrath and nothing was ever left standing. But Eolyn had always thought such horrors happened in other provinces, in faraway places like Selkynsen or Selen, where rebellious subjects still clung to old ways. Her family lived in Moehn. Who among the peasant farmers of her home could have disobeyed the King?

It is Simple Magic, Eolyn. The memory of her mother’s words returned like the whisper of a tiny serpent. And it will serve you well.

The ground lurched and she stumbled to her knees. Sour bile burned up through her throat and spilled onto the forest floor.

Was that it? Had Simple Magic condemned them all?

Terrible wrenching sobs shook her body, a torment of unbearable loss and guilt. For she, too, had indulged in the treacherous and the forbidden. She had learned the secrets of the plants.

The pale sun burned the mist off the ground and settled into the high branches long before she ran out of tears. Not until her sobs faded into exhausted silence did the sounds of the forest return, the rustling of dry leaves, the subtle murmur of the autumn wind, the silver gurgle of the tiny stream.

“Come look at this one, Eolyn.”

The girl started at the voice of her mother, close again and very real. Sniffling, she wiped the damp from her cheeks and pushed herself to her feet.

“Mama?” she called as loud as she dared.

Only the stream replied with its liquid tones.

“Mama?”

A fluid movement caught Eolyn’s eye, a subtle shift of light beyond the far trees. Eolyn thought she recognized the familiar sway of her mother’s skirt, the sinuous confidence of Kaie’s stride. She took a hesitant step forward.

“Mama?”

The shadow responded by slipping toward the heart of the South Woods.





Read Chapter 2