The Toll (51 page)

“
Was that really
necessary?” Vidi grumbled, making a face for Magda as she handed me
a huge slice.

“
Shut up, I’m talking now,”
Magda barked, snatching up a piece of crisp crusted bread, so warm
it felt fresh from an oven, before Vidi could.

Sticking out her tongue before she
shoved a sizeable chunk in her mouth, Vidi snorted out a
laugh.

Magda just waved her off. “The youth
is wasted on the young.”

A small smile crept up my lips, but it
fell when the old gypsy woman’s eyes went back to me.

“
Why don’t we try something
first, hmm?” Holding her hands out, palms up, she sat up
straighter, rolled her shoulders, and wiggled her fingers,
motioning that I should put mine in hers.

Warily, I put my hands out, fingers
reaching, but felt funny about it and pulled back before they
touched.

“
What? Don’t trust me?”
Cocking her head to the side, she studied me, deep, fathomless eyes
boring into mine. “That’s right,” the older woman gave Vidi another
disapproving look, “I keep forgetting.”

Magda must have seen something, in my
face, or the stiffness of my posture, maybe the tightness around my
eyes and mouth, a guardedness that never quite went away, giving me
away, and her expression softened.

“
Don’t know what’s got your
back so stiff, but I can promise you, while you’re with us, these
nomads descended of the Aos Si, no harm will come to you. We have a
code, you know. Can’t break a pact once it’s made. This is my pact
to you.”

“
Aos Si? I thought you were
gypsies?” My blurt had both of them laughing, holding their
stomachs as they guffawed rather loudly and I sat out on the joke.
“Well, aren’t you? That’s what Bavol... said.”

“
Don’t know who this Bavol
is,” Magda chortled, “but he sounds like Puck himself.” That
comment facilitated another round of chuckling snorts.

“
I don’t get
it.”

Vidi, the first to sober, explained,
“Not even gypsies would mess with the like. Not many willing enough
to get caught up with our ilk, no matter how thinly it runs through
our veins. Looked down on by all,” Vidi’s ready smile and sparkling
green eyes faltered a little and her head dipped, fingers picking
at the ties on her shirt, “not that I really blame them,
though.”

Magda patted Vidi’s knee and went back
to her bread.

After a tense silence, Vidi glanced
up. “Casters’ll mingle, Changelings and shifters too, from time to
time sometimes, but most avoid the Sidhe and their get. It doesn’t
mix.”

“
Tell that to your
parents,” Magda murmured under her breath, mouth full of her last
bite.

Vidi hadn’t overheard, gaze still on
me, and I was glad of it. She looked pained enough as it
was.

“
Casters? Sidhe?” I asked
quickly, accepting another large piece of bread. Quickly eating
that one too, I hadn’t realized how starved I was, ready to cram
down more. Uncapping the water skin Bavol had left to me, having
asked me to hold onto it as we’d walked, I took several large gulps
before gesturing for her to explain.

“
Witches. Casters. Humans
who wield the ancient arts. Dark arts. Other.” Hand out, she spun
her fingers in a rolling motion, as if waiting for me to catch
on

I didn’t.

“
The fairy people,” Magda
cut in, eager to move things along.

“
The children of the
Gancanagh—
the fairy lover.
We’re the product of that. His... children, so to
speak. Human, and, yes, by default weak, sometimes mixed in with a
bit of other Other too, but still in possession of some
magicks.”

Fairy lover?
Human and fairy matings? Other-Other?
My eyes widened.
Alright, now I’d heard everything.

“
Oh.” Eyeing the two of
them calmly, my gaze strayed to their ears of their own volition,
not a pointed tip in sight. For fear of sounding stupid or being
laughed at again, I didn’t ask any more questions.

Fairy lover?
I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that one
yet, but why not? I’ve seen much more, so it should come as no
surprise. And yet I felt stumped.

Fairy lover.
The words made me want to snort out loud. Holding
one in, my eyes went back to their faces searchingly.

“
For someone who wields so
strongly and knows so little about any of this, you seem rather
hushed,
”
Magda
observed.

Shrugging, I murmured quietly, “What
would you have me say?”

“
You push too soon,
Grandmamma,” Vidi scolded. “What can be done tonight, can be done
tomorrow. The hour is late. Let us rest and start fresh, with the
sun.”

Turning stormy eyes, rife with
something undefinable yet undeniable, towards Vidi, Magda snapped,
“No. We do this now.”

“
Fine.” Black sparked in
Vidi’s eyes, licking with red and orange, like flames, there and
gone in a flash. “Do as you wish,” Vidi hopped up and sprang
towards the back, irritation rolling off of her in waves, “but I’m
going to bed.”

“
See what I have to put up
with?!” Reaching for her cane, Magda slammed it into the rug
covered floor with a heavy thump. Again with the magic, and again,
no reaction from Vidi. It bounced off her back.

Eyeing Vidi’s retreating back, I had a
strong sense I wasn’t the only one in the room who could best Magda
in a power struggle.

“
Impertinent little... I
should make you sleep outside with the dogs!”

“
She means well,” I replied
tentatively.

Upon Vidi’s exit, Magda got up, with
much more vigor than I’d expected, and closed the thick oak door,
throwing the latch as the sounds of Vidi rummaging around in the
small compartment just behind her, settling for bed, reached my
ears.

‘
We will wait a moment,’
Magda mouthed, turning to me and blowing out her lanterns, one by
one, hustling as she shuffled around the small space. Then, as she
sat, lighting one single deep blue candle, placing it on the middle
of the small trunk, she motioned for me to stay put, and we
waited.

Only a short time had passed before
the soft snores from the sleeping compartment had her nodding.
Blowing out the small blue stub of a candle, she set it down in a
small wicker basket off to her side.

Waving her hand, she pulled out a
warped metal bowl, cracking a small, oddly shaped black spotted egg
into it. Bright pink oozed from the inside, and she tossed what
looked like dried herbs in, breathing onto it, sparks shooting from
her lips, to jerk back when a flame lit. Silver sparkles shot out
around us, a small curtain-like veil enclosing us, and she smiled
serenely, supremely pleased with the feat.

Edging back a little, stunned, I made
a choking noise as she tossed me a conspiratorial wink.

“
There. No interruptions
and no intrusions. Now,” she looked to me pointedly, “we may
speak.” The lines on her face relaxed and she let out a deep
breath. “We will be leaving in the morning, and cannot take you
where we are headed. I am sorry, but your condition would put us
all in danger.” When I went to speak, she held up a hand. “I know
what you are,” her eyes drifted to my markings, hidden by my night
shirt, all the starch and matronly patronization gone from her
tone, “and I know to whom you belong.”

I flinched at the way that
sounded, but let her have her say. No use in explaining he’d
abandoned me, either.
What would be the
point?

“
Anyone as old as I,” her
hand pressed to her breast gently, jingling her clinking bracelets,
tinkling in her wake, “and I am much older than one might think,”
silver and dark brown mixed brows lifted up slightly, daring me to
argue the fact, “knows of Ornthren. Or trolls, if you prefer.”
Giving her head a quick shake that sent more wisps of stray curls
free from her thick braid, she pulled something out of a hidden
pocket in the fold of her voluminous skirt, keeping it hidden
within her closed palm.

“
Then you know...” I
trailed off, letting it taper off into dead silence. Swallowing
past the lump in my throat, I forced the words through dry lips,
“Then... you know what I am.” There, I’d said it.

Finally saying it out loud, having
someone to come clean to, I wasn’t surprised to find it gave me a
small measure of relief. A small weight lifted off my
chest.

“
Yes,” Madga nodded
somberly, a sadness in her eyes I knew mirrored in my own. Hers
might be out of pity or sympathy, mine was derived from a sudden
sense of loss, of grief, a bit of spite.
He’s gone.
He left me.

All signs point to Troll
not caring—he found out the truth
—I had,
in fact, been just as duped as he—
and
still he cast me out. I should despise him and be glad I’m rid of
him, once and for all, but... if only someone could tell my head
and my heart.

“
Never known an Ornthren to
bond, though I’ve heard a tale or two.”

“
Never?”

“
No. Ornthren are fierce
beings,” she murmured, a strange look crossing her face, “full of
magicks, but humans and certain others wield more power over them
than they think.” The way she talked, was as if she considered
humans a different species than us completely. “I have heard of a
few being enslaved by Casters,” she added almost
conversationally.

“
Casters? Oh! You mean
witches. But, how?” I found myself leaning towards her, hanging on
every word. This is what I’ve been waiting for—someone who will
finally give me answers.

Lips pursing as she picked up a small
flask from her cloth lined basket, she pulled the cork and took a
long quaff, eyeing me dubiously the entire time. “Don’t you know,
dearie?” Offering me a sip, I shook my head, hands up, and she
pulled it away, tossing the swill back as she wagged at me with her
pinky. Shooting forward, she smacked her lips, nose wrinkling. “You
don’t expect me to believe you ended up that way on a whim, do
you?” Snorting as she pushed the cork back in, she let out a high,
tinkling laugh—carefree—like I’d just done or said the funniest
thing she’d ever heard. “And then, well, you know.”

Anger flashed through me, red hot, and
I bit back a hiss through gritted teeth. “I don’t, and I didn’t do
anything.”

“
Oh,” she smirked cattily,
“but don’t you?
Didn’t
you?”

“
No.”

Magda stopped dead at my words, my
voice gone harsh and guttural. Hands fisting the rug underneath me,
a loud rip tore throughout the room.

“
Mmm. Pity.” Trying to mask
her expression, she gave the rug a small forlorn look before
sending a frown my way. Clucking her tongue, she waved me off. “I
rather liked that one.”

Hard as she might, she couldn’t hide
her smell. She was nervous, and she wreaked of it.

“
So buy another fucking
one.” Teeth clacking, I’d just snarled at her, incensed by her
careless remarks. Runes humming, my Other sense was hissing at me
to establish dominance with this lower being. It was the way of
things. This is how it was to be.
How dare
she insult me.
She needed to learn her
place.

A low growl built up in my throat,
neck cracking as I rolled my shoulders to ease some of the tension
bunching in them, pulling tight, and she squeaked.

Magda’s jaw dropped and she sat back a
little, putting as much distance between us as possible without
getting up and scrambling from the room.

“
You’re eyes are glowing
again.” I could feel her power, smell it in the air, muted, weak
but building. She was preparing, arming herself, reaching for the
cane, just in case.

My power wafted around the room, thick
in the air. It wanted to envelop hers, touch whatever she had
closed in her fist, radiating a sort of rush of familiar magic in
waves. It soothed a little, but not much. My senses were clawing at
me to gain it—take the pretty—by whatever means
necessary.

The pretty?
That brought me tumbling back.

“
I’m sorry,” I snapped
after a moment, a small sheen of sweat beginning to form on my
brow, eyes squeezing shut tight. “I don’t know what’s come over me.
Please, just... just give me a minute. And... put whatever is in
your hand away. I don’t want to be around it.”

Digging deep, I tried for
calm, chest rising and falling rapidly as emotions clawed at my
throat, grappling to break free. I wanted to bellow at her, I was
so inexplicably mad. I wanted to roar, but why?
What had she truly done, other than being momentarily
rude?

Biting my tongue, I clenched my teeth,
ignoring the sharp, metallic tang of blood in my mouth as I slowly
found a small measure of control.

I wanted my mate, but that couldn’t be
remedied.

“
Apologies. I’ve hit a
nerve, and this, well...” I could hear her hands fluttering around
me, the clink of something delicate but metal, the flutter of a
small chain reaching my ears. Inhaling deeply, I scented silver,
fear again, and what I now recognize as Fae magic, as well as
Magda’s heart racing in her throat. The cane was something else
entirely, and my newfound sense advised me not to touch it,
cringing away from the thing. The small glimpse of fear I’d smelled
on Magda did help deflate my ire, though.