The Weaver's Source

Chapter 44

"No. You'd never hurt me." I repeated matter-of-factly. "You're too protective of me." He stiffened, his eyes searching me with guarded bewilderment as I wrapped my arm around my waist, splaying my hand over my wounded hip. "You'd never feed me to anything, no matter what."

I felt something stir in him, a hot mix of emotions I couldn't make heads or tales of, but the magic surrounding him like a savage storm settled a little. The anger shifted, melting into frustration.

"Follow the drums, Lyra." When my mouth opened in protest, nerves shivering down my spine, memories of teeth sinking into my flesh, his fingers circled the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing my skin soothingly. Instantly I felt the fear die, replacement by a flustered beat of my heart and surge of nervous joy at his gentle touch. "Your magic will only get worse. Don't ignore it." He paused, eyes glimmering softly at me. "The people here aren't worth your fear, Lyra, and they can't hurt you."

I nodded slowly, my heart calming at how protective he was, his thumb still stroking my neck. I knew that they couldn't hurt me, not with Grigore shadowing me ominously, but I still felt small here, like I was a child again. But Grigore was right. Ignoring my magic wasn't wise, we'd both proven that in the crooked house when he nearly died.

I turned from him and, after sucking in the air stained of animal and filth, I set off again, letting my feet and my magic take me where it wished. Grigore prowled after me, closer this time and shadowing me almost protectively, a hand loose on Ursus' hilt to ward away any potential threats. I tried to cower less, to stand taller, to not let the habitual need to hide myself the moment someone spied me take over. It was difficult but I tried all the same.

I kept close to his side when we entered the heart of the village and made our way through the numerous narrow lanes. People kept out of our way, keeping to the opposite of the roads or turning back to where they came from but, with Grigore so close and looming beside me, crackling with magic, most left me be now. As he promised, I was safe.

We heard the house of the old woman before we saw it. As we came out of a lane and entered a small clearing, we heard hysterical screaming and shouting. A small hut stood at the centre of a circle of small houses and, in front of it, was a woman, collapsed onto her knees, crying and screaming at the door. I slowly recognised her as the woman Molly who had found the remains of her husband at dawn.

At first Grigore and I watched her as she cried and accused the old woman in the house. It wasn't until she seemed to exhaust herself that we decided to approach her. We walked quietly to her side and Grigore touched her shoulder.

Molly looked up at us sharply with wild red wet eyes, recognising us instantly. She sniffed hard then pointed at the door with a shaking finger.

"It's all her fault he's dead. If she wasn't here, he'd still be alive. He'd be there to see his own children grow." She said in a mixture of venom and misery. And then her eyes caught my face. She stared at me for a moment before hatred twisted over her features. Then she rose quickly to her feet and took a swipe at my face with her bared nails.

Horror was what I felt as I saw her attack me and I was so shocked that I didn't think to move. Grigore reacted for me however. I was yanked back hard and crushed to his chest before she reached me, his hand on Ursus and his arm refusing to let me move.

"Be careful who you decide to attack." He warned firmly.

"Magic is the death of good people." She snarled. "It should just die, taking all you devil people with it."

"And if magic died and those who can use it, who would keep you safe from the monsters that plagued towns and feast off of the flesh of travellers." A strong old voice demanded.

I looked up and saw the door had opened and a tall elderly woman stood there. She was dressed in an old faded dress with a thick cloak surrounding her frame and her white hair was left to go where it pleased. With defiance in her eyes, she stepped down the small steps, the bottom of her cane clicking loudly in the sudden hush. Molly flinched and backed off.

"Magic is what keeps you safe, Molly. For years I had done that, for other villages as well as this one." She snapped then softened after a pause. "I am deeply sorry for your loss but it's no fault of mine and especially no fault of theirs." She swept a hand over at Grigore and myself before her eyes fixed on Molly. "Go home and grieve. I won't have you causing such a ridiculous scene outside my own home."

"You murdered my husband!" Molly screeched.

"I did no such thing." The woman snarled. "Now go. Grieve and care for your children. But don't come accusing me of such a ghastly act ever again."

Molly scowled at the woman and she, in turn, scowled back. And then Molly broke down into tears again in defeat, all anger spent. The elderly woman watched her for a moment before she sighed, patted Molly's head and lifted her to her feet.

"Go home, Molly. Your children are going to need you more than ever now their father is gone." She said kindly.

Molly, still sobbing, wandered aimlessly back into the lanes back to her home and children. Grigore watched her go with a scowl and didn't let go of Ursus or relax until she was out of sight. The old woman turned to face us and it was only then that I realised my magic was content, curling in recognition as the sound of drums echoed pleasantly about me. The song surrounded the house thickly, as if it was drowned in it, and emitted weakly from the elderly woman in front of me.

The old woman smiled faintly. "You've responded." She said warmly. "I'm sorry I didn't come out to meet you but the village doesn't exactly take kindly to my presence anymore."

As she calmed, her eyes shifted from stormy blue and blood red to a calm grey. I stared at her, my own eyes now yellow in happiness and shock.

She bowed a little. "I am Lillith, once guard of this village." She smiled. "Now come with me, Weaver and Source. It's better for you to come inside."

I followed eagerly, practically dragging Grigore behind me, as I followed Lillith up the crooked steps and into the tiny magic enveloped house.

Never in my whole life did I ever imagine I would find another Source.