The Witch and The Thief

15

"Good," Fearne murmured, wiping the substance from Maera's hand with the edge of her skirt. "Now, would either of you care to tell me," she said with a pointed look at Lachlan as she gave Maera a maternal pat on her hand, "why in all that's mystical, would this lass be suffering from having her powers bound?"

She approached Lachlan and crossed her arms over her ample bosom while she waited for his answer.

Lachlan cleared his throat and avoided making eye contact, "T'was a misunderstanding between the two of us."

"Mmm-hmm—what'd you use, lad."

He rolled his shoulders, feeling as though he were no older than nine, and swallowed before quietly admitting, "The Bracers of Binding."

Fearne batted his arm with her hand and shook her head. "Did no one warn you of the consequences when using those vile things? The Aegis Council ought to be burned on pyres for creating them. I'd gladly set them aflame myself. You're fortunate the lass is even willing to speak, let alone harbor tender feelings for you."

Maera clenched her eyes shut with a groan, hoping the floor would fall out from below, the room would implode, or the roof would collapse. Anything to end her misery.

Lachlan blinked and stared at Maera in shock. He slowly turned back to Fearne and her wicked smile, "She does?"

Fearne shrugged and walked to her shelves of potions once more. "T'was only a guess, but judging by both of your reactions, I'd say the two of you ought to converse on the matter further." She motioned Lachlan over, "I've need of your height for a moment."

In a daze, Lachlan went to stand next to Fearne and grabbed the bottle she pointed to on the top shelf. He handed it to her and looked at Maera and caught her staring at him before quickly glancing away. The left corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile as a pleasant warmth slowly bloomed to life within his chest.

"Sit before you fall, you great oak," Fearne chuckled on her way to her work table.

Maera focused her eyes on the older witch and tried her best to ignore Lachlan or anything Fearne had disclosed in the past few minutes.

Nearly all the ingredients were familiar and easily recognizable either by their pungent smell or their unusual appearance. The only unknown in Fearne's concoctions became the bevy of already made potions lining her shelves.

Fearne bent and retrieved a cup from below her table and poured a measure of the bottle's contents, a thick liquid that smelled like burnt treacle. She then added two spoonfuls of sparkling dwarf dust, a pinch of dried toadstools, and a heaping spoonful of what Maera thought looked suspiciously like thorny wolfsbane.

The only potion and accompanying enchantment she'd seen in her grimoire of useful spells that required that particular herb, also issued a dire warning that wolfsbane was to be used sparingly and with utmost caution.

Fearne glanced up and caught Maera watching her with keen interest and a small measure of trepidation. "You've a knowledge of herbs and a discerning eye, I see."

Maera blushed and fidgeted with her skirt. "I don't know if I'd refer to myself as knowledgable, but I've a grimoire of useful spells I've studied the past three years."

"Fair modest you are, but your eyes speak the truth on the matter," Fearne said with a kind smile and perfunctory nod. "Be you familiar with the wakening ceremony, lass?"

Maera nodded, "My coven performs it every full moon—though I've only been... invited... once."

Fearne scoffed and shook her head, "Superstitious fools." She grabbed the cup and waddled over to Maera. "They believe bardus and striga sacrifices t'will enhance their powers, never realizing a simple potion and a hefty spoonful of wolfsbane will do the job nicely enough without the hassle of bloodstains afterward." She handed the cup to Maera, "Drink up, dearie."