Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,14
crowed, head tipped back as her bent body refused to. Everything about her was in tatters, drifting in a wind that only touched her and sent her hair flicking and dancing, the raveled edges of her gown fluttering.
“Hear that, Rhyn Lirkinson? That was gratitude. You could learn from her. You and that cunt mage lusting after your cock.”
“I do not—”
“Silence, Miyenth Trirdan of nowhere and nothing,” the old woman said. Though she did not seem to raise her voice, it boomed through the forest, leaving a silence so complete it made Aida’s ears ring. It was as if even the trees refused to utter a sound. “I know your soul. And its sins.”
Miyenth’s face went pale, lips tinged violet as she shuffled backward to put distance and bodies between her and the woman. Clutching at a pendant of carved stone at her neck, she pressed her lips tight as if to keep them from moving.
The old woman snorted, turning her head and spitting a viscous glob of phlegm in chartreuse and moss. Vivid eyes catching Aida’s twisted lips, she made her rattling laugh once again and poked Aida’s shoulder with her staff. “Up, girl. I’d have a better look at you.”
Aida clambered to her feet, shoving at the wild mane of her hair to see the woman better herself. Stooped with spine twisted, she wasn’t much taller than Aida, though larger still and sturdy even in her seemingly advanced years. Aida did not question the idea the woman was far stronger than she appeared, wouldn’t doubt it even if the others hadn’t given her such a wide berth, fear and disgust painted on their faces. Odd, that, given what the men looked like.
“You wonder why they hate me so when I’m no uglier than them. It’s because of what I am, girl.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a witch.”
“I asked who, not… what. Unless…?” Aida ground the tip of her boot into the dirt, her pursed lips angling to the side as a line formed between the dark lines of her brows. Feeling foolish, her hands began to wring, leaving her wishing for the lengths of silk and lace to hide them in.
Face darkening, the deep lines of cheek and brow collapsing in on themselves, the old woman came closer with a sprightliness Aida didn’t expect, snatching her arm to keep her still though Aida didn’t try to back away. Eye to eye, Aida began to worry she made some offense.
“My name is Marilsa.” She breathed the name at Aida, the thin edge of her lashes almost meeting as she squinted at her.
“I am Aida Vertia.” Glancing at the others, she saw the baffled smoothness of their faces and caught Rhyn’s hand coming up toward his ear, his dancing eyes murky with an emotion she was all too familiar with. Stark fear.
“I do not speak the name I was once given, yet I tell you it. I’ll not give those blundering oafs that power. However, a true exchange should be given for such a prize. That is not your name.”
“He said the same, but I know of no other. I swear it!”
“That, I believe,” Marilsa murmured, giving Aida’s cheek a rough pat with her gnarled fingers. “Who is this man you speak of? Not Rhyn Lirkinson. He’s far too stupid.”
“You said names have power, and it is not mine to give you,” Aida said, pulling her lips tight and hoping she wasn’t being foolish yet again.
Marilsa laughed, and it was not so dry and twisted. It was a belly laugh of true humor, given as her hand gripped Aida’s arm in something less than cruelty but not friendship. “Oh, you’re not as simple as you look! I like this. Come then, tell me the name of the one whose power still seeks to darken your light. It is not the same. Otherwise, your soul wouldn’t be torn so.”
“My soul,” Aida squawked, snatching her arm back to stumble away from Marilsa.
“What are you doing to her,” Rhyn shouted, charging forward to grab Aida and shove her behind his bulk, a physical barrier between her and the witch that, no doubt, would fall.
“No, please stop! I am well. I just… she surprised me is all.” Aida tugged at Rhyn’s arm, trying in vain to pry his fingers from her.
Marilsa sneered, the crooked blackness of her teeth laid bare as she planted her staff, squaring off with Rhyn as he growled in response.
“Otaso! His name was Otaso!” Aida shrieked, twisting in Rhyn’s grip.
For the reaction the