“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, exchanging a scowl with the devil goat.
“I want you to ward the cottage against magic so no one can use it within or evanesce directly inside.” That cottage would become a sanctuary from me and my kind. The safest place for Aveen outside of the castle.
Meranda’s lips pursed. “Who lives here?”
“No one.”
She glanced sidelong at me. “Ye want me to waste magic warding a cottage with no one in it?”
“That’s right.”
“Why can’t ye do it?”
I couldn’t do it for the same reason I’d renovated this place by hand: I didn’t want my magical signature anywhere near this cottage or this village. Without a signature, even the best scryer wouldn’t be able to find it.
But I didn’t explain any of that because it was no one’s business but mine.
“If ye don’t give me answers, then I’ll be headin’ away.”Meranda turned back toward the road.
I caught her arm before she could evanesce. “It’s for . . .her.”
Meranda wasn’t a complete eejit and seemed to understand my meaning. “So she’s not dead, then?”
I shook my head.
She pulled out of my grasp, returning to rest her hands on the gate. This time, Phil paid us no mind. “It’s a mite small, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t small, it was quaint. Aveen would love it. I was ninety percent sure. “If you tell anyone about this place, I will end you.”
“She was my friend long before she was yer . . . whatever she is.”
“She is nothing. This is the final part of a bargain we struck. Still, it would do no good to havesomeonelearn of my involvement and mistake it for something more.”
Meranda studied me for what felt like forever. I pinned a bored expression on my face, waiting for her to get on with it. Eventually, she turned back to the cottage and lifted her hands, twisting them and speaking in low tones as an ancient spell fell over the quiet cottage. Magic in every shade of green painted the exterior as Meranda poured more and more into her spell. It wasn’t the one I would’ve used, but interrupting would’ve broken her concentration, potentially weakening the ward. When she finished, the house emitted a faint, iridescent glow. The colors would fade in no time, but for the moment, it looked as if the cottage had been encased in a soapy bubble.
Meranda sagged against the wall, gasping for breath.
“That’s the best you can do?” I asked, earning a glare from the witch. “Don’t give me that look. It’s a simple question.”
She pushed away from the stones, gathering her hair back from her face and sighing into the breeze. “If I want to get home, it is.”
“Why’d you use that spell instead of Cosantóir?”
“Sciath is a more subtle cast and shouldn’t draw the attention of any callers comin’ by.”
Aveen wouldn’t be having any callers. Would she? The old man, sure. Perhaps she’d make a friend or two. I couldn’t begrudge her company, now, could I? But what about other men? They’d be arriving in droves once they spied an unmarried woman. Smelly fishermen. Dirty Sailors. Even that fat baker would come sniffin’ around.
“Can you make it so that only she and her sister are allowed inside?” I asked.
“That’d cause her a great deal of problems, wouldn’t it? Not bein’ able to invite folks in fer a cuppa.”
I didn’t want to cause Aveen problems, but . . . “Only women then.”
Meranda scowled up at me. “Is this yer home or hers? If she wants to be keepin’ out male callers, then all she has to do is tell ‘em to stay away. If that’s all, YerHighness, then I’ll be goin’ back to my sewing.”
“Thank you.”Look at that.Twice in the same day. Miracles did happen.
* * *