The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

*

Nearly from the moment Lily had entered Bannerman’s Wood, she had sensed magic in the place. Only a few times in her life had she ventured beyond the first trees into the shadow of these woods. All those times were as a child, for herb-picking or firewood gathering, and she’d always been accompanied by an adult then. She’d never wanted to go there for any other reason, certainly not by herself. Adventurous as she’d been as a girl, Bannerman’s Wood had an aura about it that had kept her away. People simply didn’t go there without good reason.

As she rode astride her panthegrunn now, underneath the gnarled and lush boughs, taking in the strange sights and sounds and smells, she tried to recall those few times she’d followed her mother through the woods looking for herbs to add to their specialty cheeses. Had she ever sensed magic in the place back then? Even from the time she was very young, she could always sense the Barrier encircling her town. It was a common thing for people with an affinity for magic to start sensing spells early on, especially if those spells were particularly focused or powerful. As she had aged, she’d become better at noticing not only the Barrier, but its strength, its shape, when it was beginning to fade, until the day she had realized she could almost pick out where Mage Marigold was in town simply by sensing the power emanating from the old woman. But she could not recall if she had ever felt even a smidge of magic from the forest back then.

Yet, now, trained in magic, and grown more attuned to it in adulthood, Lily could feel a minute buzz of wild magic all about her. It wasn’t the kind of focused energy, the light flashing from just beyond the corner of the eye sensation, that would represent a spell cast by a mage. It was like she was immersed in a fine mist of power. It was subtle but all-encompassing. And just like a mist, she felt that if it were somehow gathered up and compressed down, it would represent a dense and tangible strength, the origins and potential of which were beyond her. It was more than a little off-putting.

Hours had passed, and at least a dozen times during each of those hours, Lily had considered turning back. The thing that had kept her going forward was the knowledge that there wasn’t anything for her to do or be anymore if she turned back. The problem was that she had to keep reminding herself of that. Her mind stubbornly clung to the notion that, somehow, her old life was still back there waiting for her. Her home, her family, Marigold. That’s where she would belong, were it true. But it wasn’t, and it hadn’t sunk in yet, so she had to keep reliving the shock of it with each passing thought. She wished desperately she could turn around and race with Fae back to Moonfane Forge and find it intact and idyllic again, with everyone she knew still hale and happy. Then, her thoughts would return to reality, and again she would remember the destroyed homes, the destitute people she’d passed in the streets, the new graves with their freshly-turned soil sunken down after the rain. No. She didn’t want to go back and revisit any of that. She couldn’t yet.

More than all that, as a mage’s apprentice, she had devoted her life to being not only a student, but an attendant to her teacher. Marigold was no longer in Moonfane Forge, and where Marigold went, Lily would follow. So, she did. Deeper and deeper into the strange woods, following a trail left by carriages and horses, with Fae’s large, cat-like strides carrying them swiftly along on silent hooves. Fae, at least, seemed confident. The large panthegrunn prowled the road as if it belonged to her.

Lily sniffed and wiped moisture from her eyes. Thinking about her parents and brother again. That wouldn’t do. “Toughen up, girl,” she told herself, then giggled despite herself when she realized it was a quote straight out of Marigold’s repertoire. She sighed and leaned forward to cross her arms atop Fae’s broad head. “How are we even going to explain the attack to Mari when we find her, Fae? She’s not even going to know what happened. She doesn’t know about her home ...” Fae was silent. Lily closed her eyes, feeling herself carried in the familiar, swaying rhythm of Fae’s walking stride. Unbidden, a memory of being carried by her father when she was a girl bulled its way into her thoughts—comforting then; painful now. She snapped her eyes open. “Enough of that,” she said aloud. “Something else. We need something to do, besides just walk and think. Don’t we, Fae?”

Leaving her reins draped over the saddle horn, Lily grasped Fae’s horns and slipped deftly down from the large beast to walk beside her. It was a trick she’d practiced many times. Neither she nor Fae even broke stride, just continued walking along, side by side.

“Lessons,” Lily said softly. As she walked, she went into one of Fae’s saddlebags and found some strips of salt meat to nibble. “I should probably keep up on my lessons, shouldn’t I? Guess what I was to learn next, Fae. Complex Imbuements!” She took a bite of the dried meat, chewed the leathery stuff, and swallowed. “Ugh, is this what Vetch has to eat when they go out on training rides for days?” She resigned herself to the overly-salty meat and swallowed another bite. “Yeah, it was complex Imbuements. That’s probably what Mari was going to have me reading about while she Slumbered, so that’s a good place to start.” Lily frowned to herself, remembering how all of her study material was now lost. Those days when she would sometimes lag in her reading took on a new significance. She’d never again be able to draw from the knowledge in those books. How much had she lost forever by not staying on top of things when she had been told to? “What do I remember about complex Imbuements? There are different types of Imbuements, Fae,” Lily said, endeavoring to explain things in the same fashion Marigold would. “A simple Imbuement typically takes the form of a Permission, when you decide who can pass through a Barrier. Casting a Barrier with a Permission for one person? Pretty easy. It gets more difficult the more people you add, because you have to encompass all of those individuals into your thoughts while you are Casting. And that takes some significant skill!

“But it’s not considered complex yet, because it’s only one type of Imbuement. When things really get complicated is when you begin to combine different types. Are you paying attention, Fae?”

Lily took hold of one of Fae’s horns and gave it a playful shake. The panthegrunn grunted softly. Lily smiled. She stowed the remaining strips of meat and found a handful of fodder, which she fed to Fae as they walked. Fae chuffed her pleasure and licked Lily’s palm clean.

“One example of a different kind of Imbuement is when you give a Barrier a Condition of time, like the way Marigold casts the town’s Barrier to keep non-townsfolk from passing through it after the sun goes down. That’s difficult enough to do on its own. But when you take something like that and also give the Barrier a Permission, that’s complex Imbuement.”

She sighed and brushed her hands on her skirt. “But the thing is, Fae, I don’t know what new Imbuements Mari meant to teach me next in order that I could learn to start combining them.” She found her waterskin and took a sip from it. She replaced its stopper, stowed it, and then climbed nimbly back up onto Fae. “I guess I’ll have to ask her when we find her, huh, girl?” She took up Fae’s reins and gave her sides a gentle nudge with her heels. “Come on, girl, let’s make haste.”

Fae obliged her.