Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,104

smiled, and managed to convey every appearance of unrestrained cruelty with two rows of perfect, even teeth.

“Kill them all,” Iniko said.

23

In Which a Bride-Price Is Arranged

Everyone in the village knew where the priestess’s house was—a solitary residence some distance away from the rest of the town, bordering the outer walls. What Tala hadn’t anticipated was how normal it looked. It was a small stone hut with a slightly lopsided chimney, the windows polished and the steps carefully swept. The stones had been scrubbed so thoroughly that they gave off a dull gleam as they approached. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about the house, if one didn’t count the strange shrubs and plants that grew along the path. They littered the field and, despite the absence of wind and the persistence of winter, twisted in the air as they passed.

A large number of butterflies nestled in the trees around. They glowed steadily, flared brighter as they approached.

The door was open, as if their visit had been expected.

Inside, a fire burned underneath a large cauldron, and the nourishing aroma of chicken soup filled the air. The furnishings were few, but well kept; a couple of wooden tables and chairs laden with teacups and a silver kettle, some crockery and pots and pans strung neatly across a small ledge, and a fur rug by the fireplace.

The priestess waited, calm and poised, in a chair. She had white hair neatly tied back in a bun, partly hidden by a purple scarf wrapped around her head. In contrast to Tala’s expectations of what a priestess might look like, she wore a simple woolen dress dyed an ivory white, and had no jewelry save for a large ruby-red pendant around her neck. Her face was old and lined, but her eyes were a bright and mischievous brown.

The firebird made a joyous sound, dashing to her and skidding to a stop by the armchair.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old woman had a low pleasant voice, musical in quality. She stroked the bird’s head; it cooed.

“Time flies when you pay little attention. Please sit, all of you. Would you like some tea?” Tala saw teacups lifting off the table, each drifting toward their chairs. “Or perhaps a hot meal? Why so surprised, Zoe of Fairfax? Did not the Count of Tintagel employ such magic as well?”

“How old are you?” Cole said, somehow making it sound like an insult.

“Now, you know it’s rude to ask a woman’s age. And in my case, as with Lola Urduja and her Katipuneros, age is very relative. The Dame sent you here, didn’t she? She’s quite the gentle soul.”

“You must have mistaken her for some other Dame,” Tala murmured. Gentle was not quite the description she had in mind.

“Zoe of the Fairfaxes and Nicholas of the Nottinghams. Of both Avalon and outland birth, yet never truly belonging to either. And Tala of the Makilings.” The old woman trained her eyes on her, and something in her steady, placid expression made it hard for Tala to meet her gaze. “You are exactly how I had envisioned, Spellbreaker. My apologies. I have that effect on strangers. Many of the villagers have grown accustomed to my little idiosyncrasies, and they no longer think anything of it when I call them by name long before they knock on my door.” She rose from her chair and began to move about the room.

“I suppose,” she remarked, “that you have questions.”

“Only about a billion and one,” Zoe admitted. “How did Ikpe survive the frost when the other towns didn’t?”

“A little luck, and a little help from the small mine we have guarded for centuries.” One of the butterflies alighted on her palm. “These creatures pollinate more than just flowers; they weave spells throughout the village, reinforcing the defensive charms on our walls. Nurturing our magic-fed runeflies has been our tradition for centuries; the priestesses who came before me predicted their necessity. When the frost hit, it could not penetrate past the walls at first. It gave us enough time to fortify the barriers, strengthen the shields, but there was not enough time to do the same to the other outlying villages.” She shook her head sadly. “Many spurned my offer. They had their own spells, their own priestesses, and thought it would be enough.”

“I scouted the perimeters of your village,” Cole said, “and didn’t see anything resembling a mine.”

Zoe shot Cole a dirty look, but the older woman laughed. “I would be surprised if you did, young