The Tale Teller

Ch 41

"You can't rest, can you?" The Bard stuck his nose in the air, catching the last of the smoke hut's scent as they left the village. Out here the air was sweet with the steam but soft enough to be safe.

"No. Not after what she said." Vaun had left Celise in the free-house, tucked up by the fire with a blanket around her shoulders and another across her lap in need of mending. Muirinn had thought it best to keep her active with a needle and thread. That way she may stay awake long enough to get some food and water inside and to feel a little more at home in what Vaun insisted the village now was. It wasn't easy to leave her, but Vaun trusted Muirinn and the other women to keep her safe. Celise would be fine, he just had to keep repeating that fact to keep his nervous fingers calm.

"He's an old man, Vaun. His words ramble as much as the waterfalls flow." John gave a yawn, clearly not yet caught up on his much-needed sleep. He had insisted on joining them, and Vaun had found it hard to say no. He'd missed him, and it was good to see his face again.

"It's not that that bothers him. It's how the man crossed a mountain without taking the only known path." The Bard had admitted to being as equally confused with that, leading to the journey they were now on.

A few days had passed since John and Celise's arrival, and with it had come more confusion surrounding the man who had called himself The Father. His mystery had lured in John and Celise just how it had Vaun and the others. Vaun liked to tell himself he could live without knowing the truth, but something about the man kept calling.

"I don't like him out there without food and shelter, a fire to keep warm."

The Bard shook his head. "Did we not ask him to come with us? He won't be turned and there is nothing we can do." Still, Vaun knew he too wanted answers.

"Still, we could learn from him." John was right, he clearly knew the land well, and new to it, all three were determined to find the knowledge to survive.

They walked until the tunnel through the mountain came into view. There was a red hue in the sky they couldn't explain, but eyes were focused on the footsteps covering the mud where their own followed.

"Someone's been here." Recently too.

"Probably some young lovers on a moonlit night." The Bard gave a grin, but it was as halfhearted as their belief in his words. It was too cold for lovers to come here in the night, and the village was too small for people to not know where everyone was at all times. It was a fact that had taken Vaun a while to get accustomed to.

There was a rustling in the trees behind, and a flash of white as skirts swept between trees like a dove through the sky-blue air. A woman, with hair long and flowing, as white as the gown she wore. It was pushed from her temples with metal clasps of some kind, and even from a distance, Vaun could tell the metal was forged like no other.

She stared right at them, a warm smile breaking to call to them. Arms opened, and Vaun fought the sudden urge to go to her. She was no one but a stranger, so why the twitching of toes to move?

"I knew you'd come." She stepped out from the woods and into the path, sun rays falling between the leaves to illuminate her. Her voice was like a choir in faydura, sweet, lilting. Vaun glued his feet to the space they stood. "I've waited and so have you, but our waiting is over now."

Her hands clasped together, and the chill of the winter woods eased as the heat started to surround them.

Vaun told himself the temperature shift was in his head, but John's head shot from side to side in search of the source. The Bard tugged at his collar, too feeling the heat. It was almost like a fire had broken out, but no flames filled the air.