Chapter 20

It was a sigh to behold. They all moved at once, until the treeline broke their unity. Lady Brockrote looked especially mesmerizing. The sun glinted off her armor, and her bangs swayed as she cut through the wind before she disappeared. “Wow,” Atraeya murmured, staring at where they last were seen.

“Alright. Now that they’re all gone, let’s see how much you made.” Gramps came up to her and held out his hand. He counted to himself, before nodding, and adding a few more coins to the mix and handing them back. “That should be enough for two vials. I don’t need to tell you to be careful with them, do I?”

Atraeya shook her head. “I promise! I’ll be very, very careful.”

“Off you go then.”

She ran off toward the merchant. Now that the nobles and their hunting hounds were gone, the racket had died down to a more manageable level. In fact, she didn’t notice how loud it had been until they left. All that was left were the quiet chattings of working people. The merchant herself had gone on to tidy her area. Atraeya’s shadow cast over her and she looked up. “Can I help you?”

“Do you have any glass vials?”

The merchant rubbed her chin, then turned her back to dig through her things. “Sorry, little miss. No vials, but I do have a few bottles.” She held up three glass bottles, each of them green, misshapen, warped, and muddied with age. Two squared ones and a round one. Not at all like the glass she had seen back home.

Atraeya frowned in response. “You don’t have anything better?”

To which the woman laughed. Not in a way that said she found it funny, but more like she was surprised someone had the audacity to be so blunt with her. Especially one so young. “This is the best you’ll find all the way out here. Take it or leave it.”

She glanced down at the change in her hand. It was enough for two. “Fine. But I want a discount. No one is gonna buy such ugly glass.”

The merchant shrugged and held out her hand. “Fine, then.” The amount dropped in her hands turned out to be enough, for after she counted them, Atraeya was now the proud owner of three ugly glass bottles.

She would definitely dump them in a bucket with the cleaning potion before using them. Then she needed to choose which one to gift to Mira. The whole point of this was to pay her back with a sleeping potion. She happily skipped her way back to gramps, who was currently overseeing the carts. They were being lined up, ready for use at a moment’s notice. That’s when she remembered she was supposed to make feather charms for them.

Atraeya halted, and gasped. Gramps turned to her, but before he could ask, she shoved her newly acquired bottles in his arms before bounding off once more. She counted ten carts, two for each noble, including Lady Brockrote. One leaf for each cart was easy enough to find. What she needed was her wand, though. She had grown used to it by now, and though making a charm without it was possible, she would likely be left unexplainably exhausted.

She glanced toward the forest, where horns went off occasionally. Barking could be heard in the distance. Even she could tell it would be dangerous going in there now. But she wanted to help. She stared back down at her pile of leaves. Just turning a few into a charm would make it obvious.

Blackie, sensing her dilemma, came down to her shoulder and cawed at her. Could it help? “Do you think you could get my wand?” she whispered to it. She was far enough away from the fanfare, but the wind could carry her words if she were loud enough. It thought for a moment, then cawed more cheerfully, affirmative, and flew off toward the woods. “Be careful!”

Atraeya did need a quiet place to work though. Everyone was mulling about, and still walked around transporting various things. Even Poe still worked. No clue on what, though. She walked past all of the tents, trying to find a secret spot. They were still doing everything they were before, but now at a more relaxed pace. The nobles must have lit a fire under them to get it done fast, and now that they were gone folks could work at a more normal pace.

It was behind the last row of tents where she found her spot. In the shade of the trees, surrounded by plant life on one side, and closed tents on the other side. She squatted down, then pulled out one leaf, clutching it in her tiny hands, and focused on channeling mana into it.

At once, she felt a coolness run down her arms, pooling into the tips of her fingers before finally flooding into the leaf with a burst of mana. She gasped. It was too much mana. The charm worked, but she felt noticeably tired after just one leaf. For the next leaf, she tried something a little different. She imagined her mana as a small stream trickling by. The came coolness came again, giving rise to goosebumps and turning her fingers a lighter shade. She started to shiver. Mana stored in the body in such a fashion but not used wasn’t good, apparently.

This imagination worked as intended. The leaf filled with mana with much more precision. She could confidently say it would be more stable charm. There was still mana within her arms though, so she went through the leaves as quick as she could. She was only two more in before Blackie came back, wand in its beak. Atraeya sighed in relief. “Did anyone see you?” she whispered.

It dropped her wand in her hand and tilted it head. It didn’t know, and it still couldn’t conceptualize why she needed to keep her witch status a secret. She frowned, but let it go. The wand had begun to absorb the mana in her hands, and warmth had begun to return to her little by little. Atraeya silently turned back to her leaves, resting the tip of the wand on it. The difference was astounding, now that she had a direct comparison. It might be worth it to keep her wand on her person after all.

“Atraeya? What are—” Mira gasped, her eyes wide and glued firmly on her wand. She knew, yes, but seeing was different from simply knowing. They stood there, frozen in a moment of time, before Mira rushed forward. “What are you doing?! Out in the open like this! Do you want to get taken?” She was whisper shouting now, and reached for the wand.

Atraeya fell back, her knuckles white as she clenched her wand close to her chest. Mira stopped, realizing what she was about to do. About to mother her. Her face still showed her fear, but not from her. For her, if she were to be found out. Atraeya gulped down a wad of cotton forming in the back of her throat. If her mother were here…

But she wasn’t.

She stood up. “I was being careful.” Her voice wavered, but she needed to be confident. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m not stupid. I’m hiding here for a reason. Why did you have to follow me?”

“I followed your bird. Anyone can do that. You can’t do that here. What if it were someone else? Or, god forbid, one of the nobles who came back early?”

Atraeya flinched. She was lucky, indeed. Suddenly warm, calloused hands enveloped hers. She didn’t realize she was shaking.

Mira got down on one knee, and peered at her from below, peeking into her vision. “Atraeya, please,” she pleaded. “You must think of your grandfather. I don’t know what happened to your parents, or why you’re here, but you are the only family your grandfather has left now. If you get caught, and they take you away, I fear he may pass away from a broken heart.”

Her eyes widened at this revelation. Then violently shook her head in denial. “No, gramps is strong. I’ve seen him carry many heavy things since I’ve arrived. He won’t die.”

Mira deflated, disappointed, but at what? Atraeya couldn’t tell what she wasn’t understanding. And the fact that Mira won’t say why was frustrating. Mira rubbed her cold hands, then stood and placed a hand on her forehead. That was when she sighed, her eyebrows knit together. “You have a fever, too. Just what were you even doing that you thought was worth it?”

“I… wanted to make the carts lighter. Gramps said they were heavy when there were boars on them. So I was turning the leaves into feather charms.” She turned her head to the pile of leaves on the ground. The charmed ones looked no different from the regular leaves, but she could tell. She needed to only touch them.

“That would help,” Mira sighed.

Atraeya beamed at this. She was on the right track. Now, she just needed to not get caught. “Will you help me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah! You just need to put the leaves on the carts!”

“But that would implicate me in witchcraft. Why not have your little bird do it? Isn’t that your familiar?”

They both turned to Blackie. It picked up one of the charmed leaves and tried it’s best to look proud and confident. They all laughed after a moment, the tension in the air now lighter. “Yeah, Blackie can do it,” she said, smiling up at Mira.

The woman smiled back softly, and smoothed out her skirts. “Alright then. Just… be careful, alright? And be sure to rest after you’re done.”

Atraeya nodded, and waved as she left. Of course she would be careful. She was always careful. Once Mira was gone, she could fully focus on turning the leaves into charms. Wand to leaf, mana into leaf, charm completed. After each one, she handed it to Blackie, who skillfully placed them on each cart. She could tell it loved being helpful. Every time it came back to her it eagerly looked for the next leaf.

Wind blew past, kicking up her pile and sent them flying towards the forest. She rushed over to grab them before they were lost. Atraeya even managed to grab a few out of the air. Out of the corner of her eye, something moved. A gasp escaped her lips as her head whipped around to see. A boar? A deer?

No, there was nothing there. Maybe a branch swaying in the wind?

After taking a moment to make sure nothing was about to jump out and attack her, she went and finished up her charms. She made quick work of them. The longer she hid out here, the more likely someone was to notice her gone, and the more suspicious she would be if she were noticed.

Atraeya rounded the row of tents to see a small crowd had gathered around the carts. “It’s so light!” one of them exclaimed. “Elmer! Did you do something to these?” The entire group were rolling the carts around.

“Oh, just worked a little magic,” gramps chuckled. So he figured out. Their eyes met, and she could feel the anger of a thousand suns behind his wrinkled eyes. She shivered, and tried her best to slink away. He won’t be able to yell at her out in public like this.

“Well whatever you did, it works amazing! Hauling the boars will so much easier,” another said.

Atraeya could just about die of embarrassment. She didn’t think her charms would be that strong. It was just supposed to be a slight shift. She decided to quickly leave the area, lest someone notice her. Instead, she spent her time helping around the area and earning some extra coin.

Horns blew throughout the day, with carts leaving and coming back with a boar or two. Some of them would be cooked for dinner, while the rest would be preserved into jerky or turned into hide and other things. Sometimes the tusks would be dropped off at the blacksmith who would hollow it out for drinking or carving them up into buttons and accessories.

Eventually the tables and benches came out, which she helped set up. They were all going to eat out here, apparently. She asked gramps about it.

When there’s a hunting party like this, there’s typically speeches and a feast, drinking, and other celebratory activities. Mostly for the nobles, who “donate” most of their kills to the peasants in favor of public accolades they could lord over other nobles. “They already have plenty of food,” gramps had said once he noticed her confusion. Nobles just don’t make sense.

Slowly, nobles became to come back from the hunt, emerging from the elongated shadows of the trees like magic. A few of them headed to the tent with Marrint. They, thankfully, didn’t seem to be in serious danger.

Then the standing torches came out, and Atraeya realized they would be out past dark. Her thoughts flashed back to the wolves that howled behind her, the hot blood trickling down her leg. The scrapes and bruises that she kept finding even days after her incident.

An old hand clamped on her shoulder, startling her. Gramps, his eyes knit together in concern. “It’s alright. The nobles are here. If anything comes out, they’ll defend us.”

Atraeya nodded. She hoped it were true, but wasn’t sure she believed it.

The fresh aroma of hot food filled the air. Once everyone had come back and hung up their armor and weapons, the drinks came out and food was set up on the tables. The nobles sat separately from the rest of them, cheering and hollering. Drinks sloshed over the tables and crumbs fell to the floor that the hounds rushed to clean up.

Children were encouraged to eat quickly to help serve the nobles. So, once Atraeya had eaten her fill of boar, grains, and various vegetables, she went around with a pitcher. Various people got her attention by waving her over, and she filled their cups and jugs between her own pitcher refills. She heard snippets of conversations of various heroics from today’s hunt. Stabbing, swiping, saving. Sometimes she would get distracted and listen to the story.

Until she got the distinct feeling that someone was watching her.

Atraeya halted in her steps, scanning the whole area. The light was mostly gone by now, and she relied on the glow of the torchlight.

There. Near Lady Brockrote. A noble stared at her, unsmiling. He raised his glass, and she went over.

His eyes were on her the whole time and her whole body began to scream that something was wrong. Pouring the drink was easy enough. She didn’t spill any at least. When she went to pull away, he grabbed her wrist, hard.

She began to shiver, unsure if it was from the temperature dropping or the un-moving stare. “How did you get the carts to move with such swiftness?” he asked, his grip tightening.

Tears welled in her eyes. From the pain or was she caught? “I-I do not know, Sir Noble,” she stammered out.

“You are the granddaughter of a woodcarver, are you not?” He did not blink. He did not smile. His eyes bore into her soul. The nails dug into her skin. She wanted to cry out in pain, but this noble would likely hit her.

“Gram— My grandfather does not teach me about his work, Sir Noble,” she said. He did not move. Was he even breathing? For a moment, she thought the answer wasn’t satisfactory for him.

“Hey kid! A refill!” someone shouted a table over. The shouting startled her, and his hand disappeared below the table. Her wrist throbbed with lingering pain. Atraeya got away from that man as fast as she could without looking disobedient, and let the other kids refill the drinks from that table. He never stopped staring at her.