Hapenny Magick (7 page)

Mae wound her arms around the pig's bristly neck, and the animal trotted off into the forest. Gelbane's furious howl echoed off the trunks of the trees. The clouds that had threatened all morning chose that moment to release raindrops the size of toadstools.

Shooting pain radiated up Mae's leg with every bounce of the pig's gait. She couldn't really make sense of anything. Her blood raced through her ears like the wind through the hollow. Her limbs felt like they were stuffed with chicken feathers. She flattened her ears against her head and whispered to the pig, “Take me to Callum's cottage in the wood. And may the wind give you wings.”

Chapter Seven

Water splashed Mae's feet as the pig dashed through the creek in front of Callum's cottage. The animal's paced slowed, and Mae slipped from its back to become a shivering mass on the ground. She could do nothing but curl into a miserable ball in the grass. A weak moan vibrated in her throat.

Quick footsteps
shushed
across the cobblestones, and strong arms plucked her from the ground. The smell of peppermint and fresh bread clung to Callum. The long hairs of his beard tickled her face, but Mae had no energy to swipe them away.

“What happened?” Callum asked, his voice rough and whispery.

“I don't know. I found her at the edge of the forest.” Aletta transformed out of her pigskin.

“She is lucky you were near.” Callum climbed the steps to the cottage and laid Mae in the overstuffed chair. Remy cawed and shifted above her.

Callum's hand settled on the iron cuffs around her ankles. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked Aletta.

Aletta shrugged. “What good would it have done?”

“We could have helped her!”

“She didn't want our help, Callum.”

Callum scoffed and muttered, and Mae felt the weight of the iron cuffs fall away from her ankles. She looked down at her legs. The wounds on her calf were crusting up with a foul green tinge. The crust and discoloration made her feel a little woozy. Her head swam; the room swirled. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the crackling fire. The room seemed overly warm. She pulled at the neck of her dress. Sweat beaded on her brow.

“What can I do to help?” Aletta paced back and forth. Anxiety oozed from her voice.

Callum's cool hand pressed against Mae's heel. “Get me the jar of balm, with the green ribbon and the gold seal in the shape of a leaf, from the pantry.”

Something tickled Mae's arm like the brush of Mr. Blackburrow's cat's whiskers did when he curled around her ankles. Mae opened her eyes a bit. The fancy-dressed critters she'd seen on her first visit looked at her from the arm of the chair. Their whiskers shivered like the strings of a lute just plucked. Their tails quivered with nervous energy.

“Beau, Trina,” Callum said, “I know you are worried about Maewyn, but she might find it a little unnerving for you to be staring at her. Make yourselves useful and find some bandages.”

The red squirrels scurried down the chair, their tiny nails making
scritch-scratch
noises against the fabric. Aletta swept back into the room, carrying a jar. Callum popped the lid on the ointment and a bitter smell filled Mae's nostrils.

She crinkled her nose at the stench.

“I know it smells worse than the largest pile of ogre poo, but it is the best thing for a…” Callum cleared his throat. “For a wound of this type.”

The balm was cool on Mae's skin; it felt good despite the fact that it smelled horrid. Beau and Trina hurried across the room, rolls of linen strips unwinding behind them.

Mae tried to sit up, but dizziness overtook her again. She curled up in the chair, reaching into her pocket and running her thumb over the flute's soft grain for comfort. Mae closed her eyes as she waited for the world to settle.

“Can you tell me what happened, Maewyn?”

“I tried to learn to master my magick, honestly I did, but the yolks were purple, so I ate them. And I cut my finger slicing the eggs. Gelbane said I ruined her breakfast with my blood.” Mae opened her eyes and held her injured finger up. “It was just a small cut. It hardly bled at all. Then she lunged at me and I escaped through the pantry window. She tried to stop me.”

Squinting at the tiny digit, Callum pointed to the green tinge that was spreading on Mae's wrinkled finger. “It seems you are going to need some ointment on that as well.”

“She made me lose my necklace, too,” Mae pouted. “I should've listened to you. I should've never gone back!”

“We will get your necklace,” Aletta said. “Please don't worry yourself into a tizzy. You'll need your strength to heal.”

Callum was very gentle about wrapping her injuries, and Mae's eyes drooped with weariness. Trina crept toward her, whiskers shivering, and Mae reached out to the squirrel, rubbing the soft fur under her chin. “Your dress is very pretty, Trina.” Delicate white lace trimmed the cuffs.

Trina's nose twitched and she curled the end of her tail, eyes lighting up.

Mae had outgrown her nice dresses three and a half years ago. Gelbane didn't think they needed to be replaced. She told Mae that a good bucket and a sturdy shovel, not nice dresses, were all she needed to slop the pigs and shovel manure.

“Maewyn,” Aletta knelt in front of her, “the knife that you cut your finger on, can you tell us what it looked like?”

Mae shrugged. “It was just a regular old kitchen knife.”

“Did it have a special pattern on it?”

“No, but…”

“But?” Aletta's eyes bored into hers.

“When I took the knife into the sitting room, the blade reflected the firelight, but the reflection was green, not orange or red, not even yellow. I blinked and the green was gone. I thought I was just tired or that my magick was acting up.”

Aletta gasped. “It is as I feared!”

“Now, now, Aletta, let's not be melodramatic. You'll frighten the poor girl.”

Mae chewed on her lip. “Is there something wrong?”

Callum ran his hand over her mud-brown curls, brushing her long bangs off her forehead. “It is nothing you need to worry about right now. Let's give your injuries some time to heal, and then we will talk about Aletta's suspicions.” He turned to Aletta, who had risen from Mae's side and was pacing by the hearth, chewing on a thumbnail. “And that's all they are right now: suspicions.”

“But—”

Callum held up a hand. “We will talk about this later.”

Mae wanted to know what Aletta was worried about, but she didn't have the strength to argue with the wizard. Callum went about preparing a cup of tea, and Mae was grateful when he handed it to her. “Do you think you'll be able to keep this down?”

“I'm a hapenny.” Mae attempted to smile. “I can eat more in one meal than a nest of baby birds.”

“Yes.” Callum grinned back at her. “I almost forgot.”

The tea soothed her weary, injured body. Mae's eyelids drooped. She sniffed the last dregs. “What's in this? Lavender?” she asked with a yawn.

“Yes, some of that and more of something else, to help you heal and sleep.” Callum tucked a frayed blanket around her. He took the cup as her eyes closed. Her ears tried to perk up again as Aletta whispered in a husky voice, but Mae caught only one word.

Troll
.

“She said the knife glinted green, Callum. And the state of the house—it wasn't tidy, not like a hapenny's house should be.”

Chapter Eight

“And you've never noticed this before?”

“I was a pig! I've never been in the house! I only peeked in the windows today because I was checking in on Mae.”

Mae opened her eyes. She was not in the chair by the fire anymore, but in a large bed, the frayed blanket tucked around her. Aletta and Callum argued as they walked down the hallway, pausing in front of her door. Mae closed her eyes again and pretended to be asleep. The flute in her pocket vibrated against her leg.

“Maybe Gelbane is just disorganized.”

Aletta clicked her tongue. “Have you ever heard of a messy hapenny? Or one with such a bad temper?”

“Have you ever heard of a hapenny wizard?” Callum retorted.

“It isn't the same, Callum, and you know it! What about the knife? What about the missing boys? And the scratches on Maewyn's leg? Those didn't come from fingernails!”

“You're right; there is strong proof, but taking action before there is reason can be dangerous as well.”

Strains of music floated through the room. Mae sat up, forgetting about playing opossum, and pulled the flute from her pocket. She held the little instrument in her hand as it played. Aletta and Callum walked through her doorway.

“Has it ever done that before?” Callum asked. His eyes were as big as saucers.

Mae shook her head.

Callum held out his hand. “May I see it?”

She gave the flute to Callum. The man held it up to the firelight and shook his head. “Amazing. I don't see anything to suggest an enchantment, besides the fact that it plays by itself.”