The Weaver's Source

Chapter 8

I barged into my house, not bothering to get rid of the mud that clung to my thick boots, and threw my cloak onto the table. Gabi, who had only just woken and realised I wasn't in yet again, opened her mouth to demand where I had been. When she saw my angry red face and grey eyes, she shut it and instead gave me a confused and concerned look. I didn't give her much time to ask what had happened when I turned on her sharply.

"Gabi, can you get me some books on monsters?" I demanded.

She hesitated as she registered what I had asked then very slowly nodded. 

"I can but what on earth for?"

"I want to know what's in the lake and how to stop it."

"But isn't your Weaver doing that? Why don't you ask him? Surely he knows what he's hunting."

"Grigore doesn't want anything to do with me. He refuses to accept that I'm his Source, let alone talk to me about what he's hunting."

Gabi stared with her mouth hung open in shock. "He's said that?"

"I want to help this town. Too many people have died but he won't have it, he told me he wanted nothing to do with me, so I'm going to do my own research and see what I can do." I said as I finished filling the rusty iron kettle and hooked it over the fire.

"Yes, fine, but he doesn't accept you? Is he mad? I thought Weavers always wanted to be next to their Sources."

"Apparently he doesn't." I sighed in defeat and sat down in my father's chair. "He said he refused to be controlled by me. I've no idea what he means by that, I've barely spoken to the man."

Gabi watched me as I remained still and silent. I tried my hardest to keep the pain filling my chest but it was hard. I had never thought my Weaver would reject me. I had always thought he would welcome me and let me help and support him at the very least. In reality though, Grigore didn't want me. I wasn't needed like I thought I was. And it hurt so much.

I glanced up when I felt Gabi gently rub my shoulder. "I'll go find those books then we can prove to Grigore that he needs you." She squeezed my hand. "He does, you know."

I nodded numbly and listened to her put her boots on then shut the front door behind her. I sighed heavily and deflated a little. I let myself slide slightly down the chair so my legs sprawled out before my and arms hung off limply over the armrests.

Things were not going well. I has been convinced Grigore would let me help him protect Gabi and the village but that was long gone. Even my faith of staying by his side, learning what I could about myself and leave this god forsaken place was dwindling. I chewed my lip and let my fingers tap against the ancient leather. I had to prove to him that I was his Source. How I didn't know but, for now, figuring out what was in the river and how to destroy it was my only option. Showing I wasn't completely useless was a first step.

I frowned to myself when I remembered his manner towards me. The first time I met him he seemed to recognise me but was quick to distance himself. The second he was protective but growing hostile. The third, he was angry with me and quite impatient. All in all, he wasn't showing he liked me at all and claimed I was taking away his will. I didn't even think I liked him that much either at the moment. But persevere, I would. Whether or not I liked it, he was my Weaver. He was the man my magic had chosen to protect it and that meant I had to get along with him, regardless of who he was. It was my job to.

I waited another hour, dozing in and out sleep, before Gabi returned to me. She kicked the door shut with her foot and let the pile of books thud onto the table which startled me into consciousness.