It’s #bookqw and being magicked ‘dry’ is the start of a friendship!
More of the excerpt:
Biting back a whimper, Fern put the phone away and leaned on the wall, too tired to move. She shouldn’t be this tired. Besides packing Mom’s SUV, she’d hardly done anything physical today. She turned back toward Beri. “How bad is it that this rip energy has stuck to me?”
“Not stuck—” His gaze flicked away. “Bad. Wherever it touches the land or soil, it’ll open another rip.” He gestured to the floor. “It won’t affect heartwood.”
Then, if she’d gone to Hillux… “Oh—uh, thank you for not exposing the Meadows.”
“You should thank Raven. He suggested we come here, and in the rush to get you out of there, I merely agreed. He knew we’d have no way to land there that didn’t involve you touching the ground.” Beri gestured outside to two birds winging their way across a sky now filled with thick clouds.
Except they weren’t birds. Raven was returning with a woman. The graceful beats of their wings would have been something to watch if they hadn’t mimicked the swaying of the tree.
“Hopefully, Willow can dispel it,” Beri said, “and you’ll be right again.”
“Hopefully?”
“It, uh, should be the same process even if you are nae Windborne.”
Fern twisted her fingers together. This wasn’t good magic, and likely dispel it wasn’t the same as wash it off. The closer they got, the younger the woman appeared. “How old is Willow?”
“Seventeenth year, but Willow is learning the ways of the Forest from her mother, who is the Witch of the Forest. She has caught on fast to her mother’s lessons. Here, step back so they may land.”
Beri tugged her to the side while Raven and Willow glided into the tree and alighted on the wood-covered floor. Both drew in their wings, or whatever they did with them, and Raven unclipped a harness to remove a leather bag hanging over his chest. He scowled at her.
Fern’s fingers curled around the blanket edges. Face blank, competition look. “I’m sorry,” she said, not quite loud enough. “Thank you for helping me,” she managed louder.
He snorted.
Her body stiffened, and Fern made herself turn to the other girl.
Willow was the kind of girl her name suggested: fair, slender and placid-looking. Her yellow blouse and long tan skirt made Fern’s wet gardening clothes look even grubbier. Willow seemed not to notice. She smiled sweetly and held out a hand. Fern grasped its warmth with her cold one, and Willow flinched.
“Flights, you’re freezing.” She rounded on Raven. “You didn’t dry her off?”
“She should have done that for herself,” he muttered.
“Not everyone has the same skills. Which I believe you are well aware of.” She shot him an exasperated look—clearly, this girl didn’t have nasty in her attitude stock—and waved a hand over Fern. A yellow light shimmered from her fingers.
Fern startled back, but the light coursed over her, blowing her hair and clothes like a warm Chinook wind coming off the mountains at the end of winter. The heat settled onto her clothing and sank through, toasting her as if she’d been in a dryer. It felt wonderful. If only she could crawl onto that cot and close her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Willow flashed her a smile, then her gaze dropped to Fern’s foot. “Sit.” She pointed to the cot, very businesslike, and said to Raven, “The washbasin.”
Fern obeyed, but her steps faltered. Beri took her elbow and guided her, then helped her lift her leg so Raven could slide a deep enamel basin beneath. They set her foot into it, shoe and all. Beri perched on the end of the cot, and Raven stepped back into a crouch while Willow knelt beside her.
“You will need to stay still.” She flicked her amber eyes up to meet Fern’s gaze.
That sounded easy enough. Fern nodded.
Willow held her cupped hands to either side of Fern’s foot, and the yellow glow flowed from her fingers again. The bubble of light swarmed around her foot, heating it, and Willow made a rubbing motion that didn’t seem to do anything.
Just when Fern was about to ask, “Is that it?” the warmth shifted to pins and needles, like when her foot fell asleep, and…were pieces of her skin peeling off? She wanted to stomp, but instead pinched her eyes shut to hold herself still.
“It’s started,” Willow murmured.
Fern blinked her eyes open. Tiny sprouts of the mucky magic had emerged—at her ankle, along the sock’s edge, between the laces, near her heel, her arch. They twined like dirty roots through the yellow bubble. A new one sprang from her big toe, and she swore her toe was being pulled off.
Her leg jerked, and just as fast, Beri pressed a large hand onto her knee.
“Hold steady,” Willow said kindly.
“How?” she whined, not meaning to.
~~~
I hope you’ve enjoyed The Witch of the Meadows! It’s available now!
Add it to your GoodReads shelf!
Leave a Reply