Chapter 32
A Treat in Your Pocket
Bronwyn dismounted. His legs ached, but otherwise he felt rather well overall. He watched Alaura tend to Clover. For its size, the pony had performed exceptionally well. It had travelled faster than his horse, and already they had covered the distance he and Isla had journeyed the day before. It also seemed to have a remarkable ability to follow a scent.
Alaura didn’t want to exhaust the mare, so she ran Clover for one hour intervals then cooled her out with a thirty-minute walk. Still, they had made impressive time.
She passed him the saddle bag. “There’s flint and firesteel in the small pocket.”
“I’ll get the fire started.” He made a faggot of birch, added handfuls of old-man’s beard and small twigs then lit it. By the time the flames enveloped the fuel, Alaura had set to work preparing the ration.
“I don’t have a lot of provisions, but it’ll do for a few days.” She emptied the canned stew into the pot and added water to increase the volume.
Bronwyn felt guilty about eating her food. “I could go hunting…”
“Let’s wait until we need to.”
With the ration consumed, he sat next to the fire and cleaned his sword.
Alaura sat a short distance away, cross-legged with a book on her lap. She flipped through the pages until she found what she looked for. As she read, her arms stretched out and her fingers danced in the air. She repeated the motion. Did she practise a spell?
This marked the first time they were alone together without an emergency pressing on their day. More often than not, Bronwyn delivered Isla to his parents’ bakery and left before Alaura picked her up. Most days, Alaura had gone by the time he returned in the evening. Occasionally weeks passed when he didn’t see her. Yet, like the sun behind the clouds, he knew she lived within his world, and at any moment she might appear to brighten it. During the times they shared sporadically, someone else—usually Isla, Farlan or a family member—always seemed to be present. Now, with what seemed as if all the time in the world, Bronwyn didn’t know what to say to her. His blood burnt for this woman, but, in truth, he didn’t really know her.
“What are you thinking?” She looked up. “It’s hard for me to concentrate with you staring.”
He quickly diverted his eyes back to his sword. “I’m wondering what you’re doing. Practising a spell?” His neck warmed, and he feared his ears may turn red.
“As you practise to hone your skills and to keep them sharp, I must practise.”
He dragged a rag across his blade. “I practise every day because I love it.”
“I love trying new spells.” She smiled. “It’s like finding a treat in your pocket.”
“Can I help you with anything?” Bronwyn bit his lip. He didn’t possess magic and she knew it. “I mean, if you need a subject to practise on, I’m here. Not that I want to be turned into anything…unless you can turn me back. And I’m not interested in being a target for a fire ball or anything else.”
She laughed. “You’re not interested in being turned into a pixie or cuddly kitten?”
“Not really.” He watched her consider his offer. “Is there a spell which takes two people?” He wanted to learn more about Alaura, and prove to her they were compatible. If he showed an interest in the craft, it might impress her.
“I’m not sure.” She flipped through the book. “There’s one I’ve wanted to try for a long time but didn’t know who to ask.” She closed the book with her finger saving the page. “But I’m not sure how it’ll work because you’re untrained.”
“We could give it a try.” His confidence faded. The person she desired not only possessed magic, but the skill to wield it. This reminded him of their stark differences. Then he thought about those kisses in his office and her hands on his buttocks, pulling him near. He’d let her turn him into a kitten if she did that again!
“I suppose we could,” she said finally. “After all, if it worked, it might help us.”
“How? What is it?”
“It’s called the Transfer Spell.” She came to sit beside him. “The spell creates a magical bridge betwixt two people. It allows one person to send an object to the other person.”
“As in from here to there?”
“Yes, and if we stood in different rooms. The more it’s used, the stronger the bridge. Eventually, the two people could be hundreds of miles apart and they might be able to transport items.”
“Wow! Small and big things?”
“Whatever can fit in the hand.”
“So I could hold my sword and send it to you?”
She hesitated. “Not exactly. Because you’re untrained, you wouldn’t be able to work the spell. But I could send the sword to you. It would transfer from my hand to yours.”
“You mean…because I don’t possess magic?” He saw in her eyes she meant this.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” She stood.
Bronwyn grasped her hand. “I want to try. It might come in handy for both of us.” She hesitated still. “Not possessing magic doesn’t bother me. I live by the sword. It’s all the magic I need. I’m interested in learning more because of you. If you could send me an object when I’m in need, it can only help us both.”
Alaura sat back down. “Are you sure?”
“Tell me what to do. If it doesn’t work, it’ll be a good laugh if nothing else.”
“Magic is serious. Can you be serious about the spell?”
He eyed her. She knew better.
Alaura opened the book and placed it flat on the ground. She dug into her pouch and extracted three small packages. “Kneel here.” Once in position, she knelt in front of him.
The light from the fire flickered in the strands of hair framing her face, creating a warm orange glow. Her eyes caught every spark of light and twinkled like the sunshine on the Shulie River. Bronwyn sighed as he watched her carefully measure the ingredients and place them in a small dish. To this, she added lukewarm water. She stirred until the mixture became thick and sticky.
“May I have your right hand?” She took it and flipped it over so the palm faced up. She supported it from below and studied it. “Your skin is thick.” With her free hand, she traced the deep life lines, circled each callus and touched each finger.
Her caress made his skin tingle with a warm sensation. Her fingers, long and thin, fondled every space of his palm. It appeared as though she was studying it, committing it to memory. He leant in close enough to smell her odour, an intoxicating scent of sweat, herbs and wood smoke.
Using a spoon, Alaura plastered half the magic mixture on his palm. She stirred three times, smearing it over his skin, as she mumbled secret words to ignite the spell. Occasionally, she glanced at the book to confirm the recipe.
The mixture created a warm sensation in Bronwyn’s body; or did the closeness of Alaura cause his temperature to rise? He watched her movements so closely he had a perfect view of the valley between her breasts and the soft curves on the edge of her shirt. The campfire generated dancing shadows on her skin, and the heat spread to his groin. At this moment, he’d surrender to any magic she wished to perform on him.
“Keep your hand still,” she said. She repeated the action on her left palm. When she finished, she set aside the jar and spoon. “We must join, matching finger for finger.”
When their hands met, a strange prickly sensation erupted. Bronwyn’s blood warmed and his heart beat quickened, yet he still didn’t know whether Alaura’s touch or the magic stirred these wonders.
“Repeat after me, Dodem lopin nisp.”
He repeated the Hauflin words. “Dodem lopin nisp.”
Then they recited the words as one, pressing their hands together and staring into the others eyes.
“My hand is getting hot. Real hot!” He winced from the pain, but didn’t separate from her. “Did you misread the spell?”
She shook her head. “This is supposed to happen.”
He pursed h
is lips. The heat became unbearable. He noticed that she never flinched. Could she control the heat because she possessed magic? “Are you sure you have the right recipe?” She ignored his question. He took shallow breaths, unsure of how long he could keep his hand against something as hot as a wood-burning stove.
Finally, Alaura curled her fingers betwixt his and held their hands in the air. The burning sensation subsided.
“We are transfer joined,” she said, looking into his eyes.
She sat near enough for him to feel the heat of her breath on his cheek. If he leant a little closer, he could kiss her, but before he acted, she brought their hands down and released her hold.
He shook his arm then looked at his palm, believing it to be burnt, red hot at the very least. But his hand appeared unharmed. The magic potion had disappeared. “Did it work?”
“Let’s see.” She picked up a stone and placed it in her palm. Staring at it, she recited, “Travel in air. Travel on land. Transfer this item to his hand.”
Bronwyn grinned at the rhyme.
She frowned. “Please, be serious.”
“Did you make up the rhyme?”
“No, it came from a very serious book.”
He wiped the grin from his face, but as soon as she spoke those words, it reappeared.
“I can’t do this with you staring at me. Turn around,” she said, making a circle motion with her arm. “I’ll sit behind you.”
He swung his legs around—Alaura did the same—so they sat back to back, leaning against each other.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready.” Bronwyn opened his hand and rested it on his bent knee. He felt her take a deep breath and slowly release it.
“Travel in air. Travel on land. Transfer this item to his hand.” She spoke in a calm, smooth voice.
He heard her mumble the words again. He felt her inhale and exhale. When the stone didn’t appear in his hand after she had repeated the rhyme thrice, he worried his lack of magic made the spell fail. For once in his life he wished he possessed it. Suddenly, his palm tingled and became warm. A red substance materialized.
“What is it?” He stared at the mess in his hand. “I thought you were sending a stone.”
She looked over her shoulder. “It worked!” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
“It’s a bog berry!” He rubbed his palm on a grassy edge. “Great! I have a big red dot on my hand. Is this what you wanted?” He held up his hand to show her. The squished bog berry juice stained skin for days. “Is this being serious?”
Her giggle broke into a laugh. “But it worked.” She stopped him before he had a chance to rise. “Let’s try again.”
He glared at her. “What are you going to send me this time? Bat dung?”
She reined in her smile. “How about dirt? I want to see if I can transfer faster.”
He rested his back against her again. “Okay, but just dirt this time. Better yet, use those pebbles there by the fire. They’ll be easier to clean off.” He truthfully felt no anger for her trick. She had merely surprised him by her ability to fool him.
Alaura scooped up a handful of the small stones near the fire and poured a fine stream onto her hand.
Bronwyn heard her chant the rhyme. She sounded quieter and more confident. He watched a circle of pebbles materialize in his palm faster than the bog berry had. It amazed him to be so close to magic and watch it work. The pebbles circled the big red dot on his palm. With the index finger of his left hand, he dragged the top of the circle towards the centre. Hmph, he thought. It looks like a heart.
“Did it work?” When she saw the way he had changed the shape of the stones, she glanced at him curiously.
Bronwyn smiled back then threw the stones in the air to let them rain down upon them.
“You rascal!” She shook the pebbles from her hair.
He chuckled and whirled around to seize her by the shoulders. “Gotcha ya!” He ruffled her hair with both hands. He lost his balance and fell forward, taking her with him. As he lay upon her, their faces an inch apart, his laughter ceased, and he stared into her sparkling brown eyes. “Do you want to transfer anything else tonight?” He watched her bite her lip as her gaze fell upon his mouth. It delighted him to have Alaura with him like this. No one could barge in looking for a delivery list. He leant forward and prepared to kiss her.
She put her hands on his hips and shoved him off.
He watched her rise, puzzled by her actions. Why didn’t she kiss him?
She went to the ingredients and utensils used to create the Transfer Spell and packed them away.
Bronwyn stared in confusion. “I guess we should get our rest if we want an early start,” he said slowly, wondering if she’d offer an explanation for the quick dismount. She didn’t.
He glanced around for a comfortable spot to sleep, a place to shelter him from the cool night air. When they had gone to retrieve the saddle bags from his dead horse, all the food and most of his things, including his blanket, had been either torn apart or eaten. The horse was unrecognizable. He’d have shared its fate if not for Alaura.
He walked to the base of a tree and sat down. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon and soon, it would take the lingering light with it. As he adjusted his position, he watched Alaura spread her blanket near the fire and fold it to create a cover. To his surprise, she produced another blanket and unfurled it next to her sleeping space. When she finished, she looked up.
“Bronwyn, I’d feel safer if you slept here.”
He scrambled to his feet and went to the blanket. Without a doubt, he wanted to sleep next to her. For her safety or for his pleasure, it mattered not.
She went to her bedroll, slipped off her boots and crawled inside. Before she settled, her fingers danced in the air.
By the time he removed his footwear and spread the blanket over him, she faced the opposite direction. He rested on his back and watched her for a long time. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her. He sighed and stared up at the stars. It felt good to breathe without pain and know tomorrow he’d be one more day closer to Isla.
His right hand twitched as a slight burning sensation erupted. He looked at his palm. In the glow of the fire, the red spot appeared as bright as the summer sun in the blue sky. It wouldn’t fade for days. Stretching his hand reduced the intensity of the burning, and before long, it disappeared. With the spell in place, he felt wary about being magically joined with Alaura. Were there side-effects to the spell?