Bonds that Burn and Bind

Chapter 4 Part 2

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I had been mistaken for an evil spirit a handful of times and once a kelpie. But the kelpie one had been under the cover of night and on purpose. That's how I got revenge on my bully who had told me I looked like one—by dressing as the creature would, hiding in the long reeds of the pond, and leaping out when she passed my hiding spot.

Samaria had been her name. She had snuck out to meet my third oldest brother, Lief, and had peed herself in front of him, much to my delight. Later, after discovering  my motives, Lief pulled me aside and told me he wouldn't have bothered with her had he known she bullied me. But my results were better than anything he could've accomplished.

The youngest soldiers blanched at the news of the stone troll up ahead. However, his comrades seemed not the least bit phased and thanked me for the information.

"Do you mind telling me what day it is?" I asked, before the soldiers continued on their way.

    "It's Thursday, 18th 1548 year since our liberation by the Earth Mother and Sky Father," a soldier with a long, unkept beard had answered.

    So it was still the same day, I thought.

Wooden signs for Witch's Row began appearing along the side of the Path until one pointed me down a road that branched off from it.

I made my way down it, passing several others, traveling in the opposite direction. One woman I passed held a bundle of herbs while her companion clutched a beautifully carved broom.  I also encountered a man pushing a wheelbarrow containing a crate covered by a thick cloth. Whatever lay under that cloth hissed and growled while it threw itself against its prison.

They gave me sideways looks as they passed. Usually, I wasn't even worth a second glance when I walked Witch's Row. During my last visit, I saw a man dressed entirely in taxidermy animal heads and a woman with crystals embedded into every inch of her skin.

I rounded a bend in the road, and there it was, Witch's Row. People walked shoulder to shoulder down its cobblestone surface flanked by buildings on both sides. Some were simple stone cottages with thatched roofs, which sprouted chimneys that puffed smoke, while others were more intricate, stretching several stories high.  Most of the buildings were owned by witches or some kind of magical practitioners, hence its name. The protective wards covering them glowed brightly in the daylight.

Many of the owners sat in front of their stores where tables had been set out, displaying whatever magical items they were selling. They called out to potential customers to come over to have a look at their wares, which ranged from glittering crystals to potions corked in glass vials to ominous-looking metal instruments.

The biggest of the buildings belonged to the mercenary guild, The Golden Lions.  It stood six stories high. Its five red roofs sloped gently downwards, and a banner depicting their insignia of a golden lion in a struggle with a griffin swayed gently in the breeze on the ropes, securing it to the  building's front.

In front and in between the stores sat carts selling a variety of different foods. Stews bubbled over fires, breads goldened and rose in miniature clay ovens, and colorful beverages swirled in glass jugs.  Smells of roasted honeyed meats, buttery sweets, and a concoction of herbs mixed in the air with the collective hum of many conversations happening all at once.

On my last trip here, I had given in to the enticing smells of one of the stands and bought a vanilla bunt cake slathered in purple icing that tasted faintly of coconut.

I had no appetite for such things today. My stomach recoiled at the thought of food when my head thought about the next stop I would be making after I left Witch's Row.

I turned down an alleyway between a large yellow building and one made of shimmering black stones. It was, in shallow alcoves carved into the side of the black building where less desirable businesses set up shop—where my destination lay. I passed by a woman with pink hair and an eye painted in the middle of her forehead, selling a variety of odds in and ends in front of one of these stores, including a full-length  mirror. It's reflective surface caught my image and stopped dead.

I gawked in horror at my reflection, and it wasn't because a ghoulish face appeared behind my own in its reflective surface. The rest of me ached so much I hadn't even felt the raw skin on my cheeks and chin. About half of my hair had come out of my braid and stuck out at odd angles around my face. Most of the skin had been rubbed off my nose and the right side of my face was quickly darkening into a ominous shade of black, with tinges of green and purple at its fringes. It looked like somebody had taken my face and  repeatedly smashed it against the ground, which wasn't far from the truth.

Now I understood the strange looks.

I spent a few minutes doing my best to arrange my hair and cloak to cover as much of my wrecked face as I could, pulling the hood of my cloak tightly around my face.  I handed pink-hair-lady the wren's tail I picked from No-Land, when she started shouting at me to buy something or stop looking in her mirror. The ghoulish disembodied face floating in the mirror behind me, skin gray with death and one eye hanging out of its socket by a cord of nerves, stuck its black tongue out at me as I left.  I made no further stops, ducking my head to avoid hitting it on the low wooden entrance of Bert's Collection.

And what a collection it was. Various objects crowded the small space, with seemingly no order to their organization.  I nearly beheaded a baby dragon skeleton upon my entrance.

Bert himself, a red weathered-faced, medium build man with a blonde beard graying along its edges, sat behind a counter, windowed by a telescope, dusty boxes, and a collection of elegantly forged daggers. He glanced up at my entrance and nearly toppled off his stool in surprise after muttering a quick.

"Hello, m'lady."

I pretended not to notice his reaction and walked up to the last bit of clear counter, slapped the sapphire necklace onto it, and smiled.

A short time later, I exited with three gold rose coins and a bag of silver thorn coins.

I stopped at the alleyway's mouth, and my eyes became transfixed by a mother-daughter pair in front of a stall selling blueberry bread. The little girl, who couldn't be more than four, eagerly reached for the treat her mother held out to her.

A hard wooden corner speared my hip, followed by a loud clatter. I staggered back a step.

"Shit!" The curvy woman pushing the cart that just rammed me cried, reaching for the small clay oven tilting dangerously to the right.

"Ow, curses, that's hot!" she hissed when her bare hand made contact with it. She reached for a hot mitt, using it to finish straightening the lopsided oven.

She also wore the long purple robes and amethyst amulet of a magician's apprentice, like many others selling various food items from other carts. Magical practitioners in Dalmar often trained apprentices in exchange for labor, such as selling food from carts they owned. This woman looked to be selling grilled eels.

" I should've picked a better place to stand, sorry!" I said, replacing the lids on several clay jars of spices.

"Oh, no, that was entirely my fault." She turned, and her blue eyes, rimmed with the golden power she likely drew from the closest heart stone, widened as they swept over my face.

" I think your fire is going out," I said, pointing to the portable clay stove's hollow bottom, where a small blaze barely clung to life.

She spun back around. "Shit, I forgot my spark stones!" She attempted to fan the fire with her breaths, but despite her efforts, the fire blinked out. The look of despair that shadowed her face had me reaching into my basket and producing an Efa's ruby.