The Wealding Word (27 page)

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Authors: A C Gogolski

BOOK: The Wealding Word
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They were soon returned to the forest tower on the wings of Lady Zel’s magic, and the sorceress took the newcomers on a quick tour. First stop was the kitchen, where she introduced her apprentice, Miss Elder. “Her cooking is matched only by her weatherworking,” she laughed. The plump cook blushed at the compliment.

Inhaling the savory aromas, Nell realized the magical fare that had kept her alive for the past few weeks was a thin substitute for Miss Elder’s culinary finesse. No matter what it was that Gadnik conjured, it was never quite satisfying, and Nell was suddenly ravenous for something real.

Next they came across Mr. Lambert, whistling as he repaired a lock in the hallway. “Any room that is not locked is yours to use as you like,” Lady Zel said. She arched a brow meaningfully at Nell.

The old caretaker was delighted to have another man around, and took a fast liking to Gadnik when they were introduced. “With my grandson away for the year, I’m completely outnumbered,” he joked. He shook hands vigorously with the other man. Rhiannon’s old thrall smiled vaguely, not quite understanding the humor, but eager to please. “Good to have you here Mr. Gadnik, we’ll get on just fine,” Lambert said.

Evelyn was shown to a small wardrobe of dresses. Every one of them was over one hundred years old, having once belonged to Rapunzel when she herself was a thrall. The girl surveyed the gowns with the disdain of an artist inspecting a crude reproduction of her work. None of the dresses were magical. Rather, they were outdated, sorely worn, and would need to be altered to fit Evelyn’s round frame correctly. She flung one after another aside, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of camphor used to keep the moths away. Eventually she found a frilly something that was satisfactory, but made her displeasure clear with a procession of dramatic sighs.

That evening, Ward came to pick up a gift for Prince Ryan. The boy’s fifteenth birthday was in a week’s time, and Lady Zel had no wish to repeat the ordeal her personal visit caused last year. Mr. Lambert showed the soldier into the dining room, where Lady Zel and the others were taking their supper. The young man wore fine chain-link armor and a cloak patterned with silver unicorn designs along the hem and hood. When he saw Nell, he staggered back a step, as though she were a phantasm. “Nell, you’re back,” he said in a cracking voice. “But, no one sent word of this! Does – does the queen know?”

“No, she does not,” Lady Zel replied. “And it serves her right for interfering in the first place. You can bring word of our new arrivals when you return to the castle tomorrow.”

Removing his cloak, Edward unfurled it before Nell in humiliation. For her own part, Nell was more than a little embarrassed to have the young man put on such a display for her. It only got worse when he knelt and took one of her dirt-black feet in his hands. Staring intently at it, he said, “I swore to protect you, and did not fulfill my duty. It is for this that –”

Suddenly Nell remembered Peter and the snake bite. She stopped Edward’s speech short, swinging her foot out of his grip and
accidently clipping the solider on the chin. “But what happened to Mr. Domani? Is he still… alive?”

Ward rubbed his jaw and looked up. “He is, yes. I brought the leech to him just in time, but we couldn’t move him for many days. Nell,” he said, still trying to apologize. “I searched the coast for some sign of the raiders but found nothing. I had no choice but to return here to give Lady Zel the news.”

“It’s true,” the sorceress confirmed, “I too searched with many means, but the raiders who stole you seemed to simply vanish, and Rhiannon assured me that she had nothing to do with it. To think she was keeping you the entire time...” There was no malice toward the witch in Lady Zel’s voice, just weariness. She looked at Ward and explained, “I had a funny feeling last night though, and I knew I needed to investigate the Widow’s keep one more time. Rhiannon was gone, but in the morning I spotted a small island far out in the kelp. That’s where I found our missing girl. Two of them, in fact.” She smiled at Evelyn. “Come forward, child. I’d like you to meet Ward, special servant of Queen Pharisij.”

The sunken-eyed girl sneered at the mention of the queen. Her gaze slid between Nell and the handsome soldier kneeling before her. Ward was the first man Evelyn had ever seen – aside from Gadnik – and at the sight of him her heart filled with a jealousy she had never before known. The woebegone young man gave himself completely to Nell, practically kissing her feet, and in return she had kicked him in the face. Clearly his failure haunted him, but Nell seemed blind to his grief. Worst of all, during the whole exchange no one had bothered to introduce Evelyn, except as an afterthought, and even then the soldier had barely glanced at her.

Face flushed, Evelyn pushed away from the table. As she did so, the back of her too-small dress split. “I hate it here! I hate all of you!” she shrieked. Before Lady Zel could stop her, she ran out of the room, sobbing and tearing at her gown.

“Ward, meet Evelyn,” Nell said.

 

After dinner, Lady Zel summoned Nell to her private chambers. The room was the highest in the tower, complete with an open solarium, which, like so much else about the tower, was not apparent from outside. The sorceress sat out upon the balcony, combing out her tresses beneath the glimmer of stars.

Nell approached, and was shocked to find Lady Zel silently weeping as she combed. “W-why are you crying?” Nell asked.

Lady Zel took several moments to answer. “Did you ever lose someone you loved, Nell?”

“My Nan died a couple of years ago.”

The sorceress nodded, gazing up at the star field. The constellation of the Great Chariot wheeled behind the Boar, giving chase across the heavens. Winter’s chill was in the air that evening. “Do you know why I called you here?”

Nell was quiet, surveying the dark treetops. She still could not quite believe they were back at the tower, safe and sound. As she sat considering the past few weeks, an unexpected bitterness took hold of her. Without thinking she gave vent to the feeling. “She was going to kill me, she would have killed all of us,” Nell said.

“Yes, she would have. Would you like to tell me why she didn’t?”

Nell turned to face the sorceress. “You know why. Because of Evelyn and Gadnik: they used the Isolet Word. There was a woman who crawled out of the pit where Rhiannon did her magic… I think she was dead. She followed us up and attacked the Widow,” Nell paused, shuddering at the thought. “Then, when Rhiannon wasn’t looking, Evelyn banished her. Everything was gone: the Widow, the ghoul, even the Malady.” Nell gave a tight laugh, “So I guess your plan worked after all.”

Speaking so boldly to Lady Zel made Nell feel even worse. She knew she would regret it, but she couldn’t stop the sharp words from darting out. “I guess you’ll just send me away now. The Malady is gone, so I’ll be the king’s slave forever.” The edict of the king loomed large in her mind. Once cured of the demon, Nell was destined for the plantations of Granlevin to serve as harvestmaiden – Lady Zel had said so much herself. Glumly she looked toward the few small lights shining from the castle, far away in the night. A life of servitude stretched before her like the shadowy forest below.

Lady Zel shook her head. “No child, my plan did not work – not exactly.” Nell tensed, dreading what the sorceress might say next. “I’m afraid the Malady is with you still.”

“What? You’re wrong! They banished everything! It all went away – even the palace!” Despite her protest, however, Nell knew the sorceress was right. Whether it was the Wealding Word speaking to her, or some other intuition, she could feel the calamitous leer of the Malady still upon her. Nell struggled against a tide of emotion as she tried to make sense of what the news might mean.

“But it was not in vain that you went,” Lady Zel said. “Though we did not succeed in ridding you of the Malady, you saved another person from an unspeakable fate. And now you have a responsibility toward Evelyn. You have to teach her how to live, help her to make friends.”


I
don’t even want to be her friend. She’s a spoiled brat!”

The sorceress nodded, unraveling another silver plait to work the comb through. “Remember that she was made to be this way. It isn’t something that Evelyn chose. In any case, you must try and open your heart to her. The life of a thrall is a miserable one. You cannot imagine the loneliness she has endured. What’s more, she carries a very dangerous magic within her.”

A note of revulsion in her tone, Lady Zel said, “That Rhiannon would have taught such a Word to Evelyn is unthinkable. The Word

Isolet cannot be forgotten like some Words – once given, it’s burned into the mind forever. And the more it’s used, the harder it is to control.” She beat her long hair with the comb. “It becomes the solution to every conflict. An undisciplined young lady like Evelyn could do a great deal of damage if left on her own.” She paused. “That is why I must take her as my apprentice: to temper her power with understanding.”

The news stabbed Nell to the core. She remembered Evelyn’s wish at the pool beneath the fortress; she knew the girl’s hunger for power. Now it was all coming true. Evelyn would be a real sorceress someday, taught by Lady Zel herself.
And what would become of me?
Nell wondered.
I’ll be a slave to the king, counting ears of corn forever
. A grinning moon rose just above the horizon, putting the distant castle into silhouette. Nell looked at the ocean of stars above, tears rolling down her face at the injustice of life.

After a moment Lady Zel went on. “As you know, idle hands are a serious danger in life, and it’s the same in magic. When I was young, the sorceress who kept me believed firmly in discipline – she made it so my hands were
never
idle. I had to wear my hair very long, and it grew at an incredible rate. I devoted hours every day to washing, combing, and braiding. It was my life for years.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Nell yelled. “You think you can discipline Evelyn? She won’t listen to you! She’s spoiled rotten and all she wants is
more
. But you’re going to make her a sorceress like she’s always dreamed. And me – I’m going to be the one who’s cursed for ever and ever,” she swallowed a sob, gritting her teeth against a swell of tears. “Just send me off to work in the king’s fields! I don’t want to be here with
her
anyway.”

Lady Zel was suddenly the stern and powerful Witch of the Weald, her words slicing through Nell’s self-pity. “There are two reasons why you cannot go to Granlevin. As you know, the Malady will bring
ruin upon you. That is certain. There is no telling how far its curse could spread if you left here again.” She paused, her colorless eyes glinting in the starshine. “The second reason is that I wish for you to join Evelyn as my apprentice.”

Nell’s jaw dropped. “Really? You mean it?”

Lady Zel smiled. “Of course. Though sixteen is the earliest age for beginning lessons, you show real promise, as does she. And what you said is true. Evelyn is spoiled and undisciplined – she won’t listen to me, not completely. This is where you can help. Be her friend. Learn how to open to her like you’ve opened to the weald. Perhaps she might someday recover from Rhiannon’s abuses. Will you do this for me?”

Nell made no effort to hide her smile as she once did. She was an apprentice now, and she showed her crooked grin with pride. “Yes!”

“Good, that’s settled,” said Lady Zel. “Now it’s time for bed; we have a long walk back to your home tomorrow.”

Nell bobbed her head quickly and started back inside, afraid the sorceress might change her mind. But something still bothered her. She paused at the door and, on impulse, called, “Lady Zel?”

The mistress of the tower came in from the solarium, her long white hair now completely unwound and trailing down past her knees. “What is it Nell?”

In the face of Lady Zel’s unblinking gaze, Nell wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to. “Well,” she hesitated. “What I meant to ask was… why me? I mean, why did you give
me
the Wealding Word? Of all the people in the kingdom, I don’t think I deserve…” she waved her hands about the room, indicating more than merely what she saw, “any of this.”

“That is good to wonder about.” Lady Zel said. Her voice was at once unsentimental and kind. “When we are quiet, it’s a question that must inevitably arise. Call it a sign of inner health, something every person should eventually ask themselves. Many men are slaves
to what they think should be theirs, but they never consider all that shouldn’t. To feel undeserving of one’s life, whatever it may be, is a state to aspire to.” She nodded gravely at Nell. “I can’t give you the answer you wish to hear. However great or awful, none of us
deserve
our fates – not you, not me, not Evelyn. So much is simply accident. The true measure of a person is shown by what they make of what comes their way, whether deserved or not.”

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