Briony’s tea had to have gone cold by now. The faun didn’t appear to notice. She continued to swirl the lukewarm beverage with slow, deliberate twirls of her spoon as she sat on the edge of the green settee, looking every inch like a hungry lioness poised to pounce. Her amber eyes narrowed, allowing a haughty smile to pull at the corner of her mouth. “Thought I wouldn’t notice, did you? You gave more information than I expected, I’ll grant you that. But the way you skirted around your encounter with a fire elemental was quite telling.”
Shit.
Oralia had been so careful too. While the obvious answer was to lie, she feared Briony would see right through her deceit. The alternative, unfortunately, wasn’t any better. The truth was so utterly outlandish that anyone with a lick of common sense would dismiss it as pure fantasy. Oralia sighed, running a calloused hand down her broad face. “I had hoped it would slip your notice.”
Briony’s ears flicked in irritation. The leathery snap wasn’t nearly as threatening as a hoof stomp, but the warning to stop testing her patience came through crystal clear regardless. “Stalling isn’t going to reunite you with your team any faster. As I said before, I need to know what sort of trouble you’re in before it becomes my own.”
Sascha is out there searching for you right now. Probably thinks you’re dead. The sooner you get through this, the sooner you can ease his suffering. Maybe he’ll even feed you when he’s done lamenting over the loss of his favorite pot.
Reluctantly Oralia opted for the truth. “The fire elemental and I crossed paths during an ambush. I and another member of my team were out fetching water when we were set upon by her and her bandits. My companion and I ran in opposite directions to divide their numbers.”
Okay, mostly the truth. Oralia’s recount was, admittedly, an over-generous description for what truly happened. It certainly beat ‘my idiot companion ran screaming at the first sign of danger’. Oralia continued, gaze focused on the rhythmic stir of Briony’s spoon as she spoke. “The fire elemental took chase and used her magic to corner me with the intent to kill. Nearly succeeded, in fact.”
The stench of smoke and burnt hair flooded Oralia’s senses once more. The flush of heat that scorched the skin on her forehead was at odds with the ice thrumming deep within her aching bones. Her heartbeat galloped along, steadily gaining speed, like a runaway horse. The only thing that kept Oralia centered was the mesmeric stir of Briony’s spoon. She kept her gaze locked on it, fighting the growing swell of panic stirring to life from within.
“By all rights you should be dead.”
“I should,” Oralia agreed, marveling at how hollow the words came across.
“And yet you’re not. How?”
“The dark entity saved me. As I am its host, it is reliant on me for survival. The one thing I cannot provide is food. The same could not be said for the fire elemental. Her mistake was trapping us together. At such close proximity, the entity used the elemental’s magic to jump hosts, or at least a piece of it did, in order to feed.” The words flowing from her mouth did not sound like her own. Oralia felt detached, as if severed from her mind and body, allowed to sit back as an unconscious part of her filled in the necessary blanks. “The spirit consumed the witch from the inside out in a matter of seconds.”
Briony’s hand froze in place, halting the rhythmic stir of her spoon. The faun’s amber eyes were wide and rimmed in white. She said nothing, resigned to an alarmed silence as she mentally sifted through Oralia’s recount, arranging and rearranging the pieces to make sense of it all.
“I don’t know what sort of answer I was expecting,” Briony said. “Admittedly not…that.”
“You actually believe me?”
“I wish I didn’t, but yes. That’s far too creative for you to have come up with on your own.” Slowly, Briony started up her stirring again, too caught in thought to notice the drop of brown liquid that dribbled down the side of her cup and landed between the folds of her skirt. “You realize what sort of problem this powerstone presents, right?”
Problem was a gross understatement. In the wrong hands, the wielder could use the powerstone to wipe out the world’s most powerful witches without having to lift a finger. It came at the cost of playing host to an evil entity, of course, but Oralia suspected that wouldn’t deter those hungriest for power. “I do.”
“This is the sort of problem I didn’t want to welcome into my home, Oralia.”
“You could solve that by allowing me to walk out.”
“No, I know about its existence now. I may not have much of a conscience, but there’s enough of one to realize that would be a bad idea.” Briony drew a breath of incense-infused air in through her nostrils and out her mouth, before summoning the courage to ask, “I don’t suppose you’ve tried destroying the stone?”
Ah yes, the desperate search for a logical solution to an illogical problem. Oralia knew that dance all too well. “The stone cannot be destroyed by ordinary means. Believe me, we tried. Daana and I nearly died when Ellisar cast it into the fire. The answer, I fear, is in its creation. The powerstone was created by magic and, therefore, can only be destroyed by magic.”
“Magic?”
Oralia was fairly certain she’d said the word correctly. She was not given the opportunity to confirm her statement as Briony gave a sudden snap of her fingers. “That’s why you’re here!”
Confused, Oralia said nothing, allowing the faun to reveal whatever thoughts were racing behind her wide, gleaming eyes. It was not a long wait, fortunately.
“Oralia, you snake.” The contemplative look slipped from Briony’s face and was replaced with a sly smile. She shook her fuzzy head, chuckling, “You were lying through your teeth before, weren’t you? And to think I fell for it so easily.”
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“I beg your pardon?”
Briony lifted the spoon from her teacup and set it daintily onto the side table beside her. “You’re not here for Faris. You’re here to seek Novera’s help regarding the powerstone and its hold on you.”
“Novera Belfast?” Oralia failed to see what connection existed between the infection coursing through her veins and Faris’s mother. “I am afraid I do not follow.”
“Oh please, you can stop pretending. Finding Faris was a believable cover while it lasted, but I’ve seen through it now. There’s no sense in sticking with an obvious lie.”
Oralia allowed her confused silence to speak on her behalf.
“That is why you’re here, isn’t it?” Several more uncomfortable seconds lapsed before Briony realized her error in judgment. A sheepish blush transformed her tanned cheeks a warm shade of pink. “Oh good gods, you really don’t know?”
“Obviously not.”
Briony lowered the untouched cup of tea and rested it against the top of her legs. “Huh.”
The faun’s sudden, tight-lipped silence was telling. Alas, for the life of her, Oralia couldn’t pinpoint what information she was supposed to be gleaning from it. And, at the moment, it wasn’t her primary concern. Her first priority was reuniting with those still looking for her. “I am unaware of what Novera Belfast brings to the equation. If she is able to assist in any way, I will gladly seek her out but, as I mentioned before, I am here to find Faris. The realm cannot be allowed to use him to get to Rasp. Finding Faris first seemed like the obvious way to prevent this.”
“That’s it?” Briony’s ears lowered as if having difficulty coming to terms with this information. “That’s really the only reason you’re here? You’re not here for Novera? Or on the behalf of the resistance, maybe?”
“I am in no way affiliated with the Sons and Daughters of Resistance.” Oralia was quick to stamp out that misconception.
Unfortunately, it did not seem to matter as Briony regurgitated the same misinformation Oralia had been combatting for months. “Everyone else seems to think otherwise. Your fellow figureheads, for one. According to the realm, you single handedly spearheaded the rebellion yourself.”
Oralia pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing, “I helped move witches from the realm into the flatlands to keep them out of the hands of the Division of Divination. That was as far as my involvement went. It was not my intention for my actions to devolve into a full blown war.”
“But it did. And now you’re helping.”
“I helped Adderwood obtain its independence. Did I assist with the rebellion? Yes. Was it on the behalf of the Sons and Daughters of Resistance? No. I have no issue helping the people win their freedom. I draw the line at transferring the reins of power from the hands of one power-hungry dictator to that of another.”
“...Oh.”
Oralia raised her eyebrow at the crestfallen faun. “Why does this knowledge upset you?”
Briony stared at the worn floorboards as she spoke. “The realm’s taken Lonebrook hostage. They came looking for Faris, as you suspected, but the little weasel managed to slip their nets. Geralt’s got a stranglehold on the village. He’s trying to lure Faris back by tightening the noose around the people’s necks. When we found you, I had hoped that it was on the behalf of the resistance. That you were here to free us, as you had Adderwood.”
It was Oralia’s turn to utter, “Oh.”
“Yeah. For a second I thought maybe we had a chance. I’ll save you from wasting any more of your time. Faris isn’t here. I haven’t heard from him in months.” Briony’s crestfallen stare swept to the window, adding, “Novera might have some secret means to contact him, though.”
Oralia considered this information. It was bait, most likely. A last-ditch attempt to rope her into another rebellion without begging for her help. “If Geralt has the village on lockdown, as you say, I imagine securing an audience with Novera would be next to impossible then?”
Having given up on actually drinking her tea, Briony set it into the small side table next to the spoon. “Difficult, not impossible. That is with the right help, of course.”
“And the price for securing this help?”
Briony dropped her act for what might have been the first time in, well probably ever, really. Her amber eyes widened and her ears drooped, looking like a shivering dog begging to be let inside. “Stay? Help us? There are a lot of good people trapped in that village. The realm is growing impatient. It won’t be long before they start applying the pressure. And unfortunately, it’s going to be to our necks.”
Oralia ignored the urge to blindly agree. “I cannot make a decision of this magnitude on my own. Your cause is worthy, make no mistake. But I am one person, and I cannot dictate the lives of my team without consulting them first.”
The puppy dog expression faded and Briony’s face went blank once more. “The only leverage I have over you right now is that you are separated from them. Bringing them in before a deal has been struck defeats the whole purpose.”
Oralia pulled the blanket tighter over her shoulders. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this cold. She was indoors, protected from the elements and still, she was shaking like a damn leaf. “This may come as a surprise to you, Briony, but it is not always necessary to use blackmail in order to get me to do something. I helped Adderwood without them having to resort to extortion.”
“Adderwood had an army,” Briony replied.
That much was true. And, without knowing the numbers or the stakes, it was a factor that was definitely going to weigh heavily on Oralia’s decision. She wasn’t going to say that of course. First and foremost, Oralia had to assure Briony that she would not turn and run the moment she was reunited with her team. “You implied that Novera may have insight about–” she gestured to the dark veins branching beneath her collarbones “–this?”
The faun perked up a little. “No promises, but this sort of thing is up her alley.”
“And she may have a way of contacting Faris?”
“I think so.”
“Then that alone is enough to at least stay and consider our options.”
“Alright, I’ll go fetch your precious team. But if any of them try to stab me, I’m not above shattering kneecaps!” With a breathy snort, the little faun stood.
Oralia attempted to do the same with less success. A withering glare from her host prompted Oralia to sink back down onto the floor.
“I said me, not you. For the gods’ sakes, woman. You’re in no shape to go trampling through a forest.”
Oralia had to give credit where credit was due. For being nearly two full heads shorter than her, Briony could certainly put on an intimidating front when she wanted to. The orc lifted her hands in defeat. “Yes, ma’am.”
Briony went over the house rules, accentuating each command with a hoof stomp. “No leaving the house. Don’t go through my shit. If you see any soldiers, run. If you get caught, you and I never saw each other.”
Oralia considered pointing out that the ‘no leaving the house’ rule was in direct conflict with the ‘run in the case of soldiers’ rule. Not wanting to make an issue of it, she bit back her tongue and offered a nod of confirmation instead. “Understood. I will stay here and await your return.”
Oralia waited for Briony to leave before dragging her aching carcass back over to the makeshift bed on the floor. It was a pathetic, undignified, and horrifically painful process that Oralia did not wish for anyone to witness, especially not the person who was depending on her to save their village. Briony knew she was weak, undoubtedly. It just made Oralia feel better not having her watch.
Oralia eased into the nest of soft pillows and blankets. She had no intention of sleeping, but the quiet combined with the velvety softness of the cot soon lulled her into a dreamless slumber.