Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,96
at the spire with horror.
“A tower?” West suggested helpfully.
The prince sighed.
“An outpost, maybe?” Zoe frowned. “It’s flat plains for miles around. You can see anyone coming for at least a league even without it. What I’m more concerned about is that strange stone over there that’s packed full of magic.”
“It’s a barrier,” Tala said, concentrating. “To protect the village, I think. Want me to feel it out?”
“Don’t,” Alex said immediately. “It’s one of their sacred stones. You’ll antagonize the whole clan.”
“Are you familiar with the people from Ikpe?” Zoe asked.
Alex met her gaze, looked away. “I’m familiar enough with the people I’m supposed to be leading.”
Three of the guards had spotted them; they approached on their horses, guns leveled at them, but their demeanor was cautious rather than outright hostile.
“Really not liking this Avalonian hospitality at all,” Ken murmured.
One of the men called out in a language Tala didn’t understand. Alex spurred his horse forward.
“Your Highness!” Zoe protested.
“I’ll take care of this.” Alex turned to the men, responding in the same odd language. He’d barely finished before the soldiers jumped off their mounts, bowing low before him.
“That’s odd,” the prince said, surprised. “They said they were expecting us.”
“We have been,” said one of the men, speaking English this time with the faint Avalonian accent. “Six months ago. You are very late. Please stay and enjoy our festival. We apologize for our earlier aggression. It has been some time since anyone outside the village has come through our gates.”
“It is of no consequence, Mfoniso, and thank you.”
“You are the prince. It is our duty, and also our fervent hope that your presence here means spring is still in Avalon’s future. I shall inform our priestess immediately. In the meantime, we offer you our humble inn to stay.” The man turned and barked out more commands to his soldiers. The gates opened.
“A priestess?” Tala asked.
“Obeah is their form of magic, and the practice runs deep in the village,” Loki told her. “My fathers and I’ve stayed with them in the past.”
“A festival?” Ken asked. “They’re surrounded by frost and nightwalkers, and they’re having a festival?”
“It’s not just a festival,” Alex said. “It’s a ritual and a celebration, from what I remember of my history. People are allowed to celebrate even when times are hard, Ken.”
Ken scowled. “I know, and I’m not saying they can’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon that we’ve finally found people here, but how did they survive? And how do they know that you’re the prince? It’s not like they’ve got a current picture of you to compare to.”
“Mfoniso said their priestess predicted our arrival.”
“Yeah. Six months ago, exactly like the Dame thought. Not a coincidence, if the inaccuracy’s consistent.” Ken sighed. “Another seeress?”
“Any place that has their own oracle would have had higher chances of survival,” Zoe said, “just like the Dame with the Count of Tintagel.” She nudged her horse into a canter, her voice crisp. “Still, be prepared to ride out immediately at any sign of trouble. If Mr. Mfoniso is willing, the priestess sounds like she’s willing to listen to us, but keep all your segen hidden, anyway, and especially keep the firebird out of sight, Your Highness. Until we know what she intends, the more questions we can avoid answering, the better.”
“Have we gotten around to electing a leader yet?” Loki asked impishly. “Because I’m voting for her.”
Despite the threat of the frost and the distinct chill in the air, there were flowers strewn everywhere; small paths were made, literally, from pale pink petals and rosebuds, still dewy and wet. Where they’d gathered enough of the bouquets from, Tala had no idea. Heat blazed out from every lamppost that dotted the well-paved streets.
Ken and West perked up visibly at the sight of the women, slate-eyed and black-haired with dark skin. They danced in bright red dresses, with gold sashes tied around their waist. Some wore garlands carefully combed into their thick, curly hair. Others wore elegant weaves in different styles, with roses tucked behind their ears.
Butterflies of varying sizes dotted the trees around them, and the strangest thing was that they were glowing, flickering in and out of view. Some encircled the group, bold and unafraid; flickering as brightly as candles and shining down on their path, leaving tiny threads of light in their wake.
“Butterflies don’t shine like that.” Tala was astounded.
“Someone in this village,” Zoe said, “is extremely talented at magic. They do possess one of Avalon’s bigger glyph mines,